#and why do british people call women birds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lailoken · 4 years

Text

‘Heathen Survivals’

“In Scotland, as in other parts of the British Isles, the conversion to Christianity was largely led by foreign saints who were of noble birth or royal descent. They converted the tribal kings who then forced the new religion onto their subjects. For this reason the process was resisted by the lower class, and even by some members of the ruling power elite. The Chronicle of Lonecast recorded that as late as the 13th century Father John, the parish priest of Inverkiething, seduced young village girls so they danced wantonly around an ithyphallic stone idol. He allegedly 'stirred them to lust and [to] use filthy language' while leading a procession around the churchyard holding aloft a representation of 'the male organ of generation' on top of a pole. At Loch Mournie in the 17th century the local minister condemned his practitioners for continuing to practice the pagan ritual of sacrificing bulls. Twenty years later Hector Mackenzie of Mellon, his two sons and his grandson were summoned before a session of the kirk (church) elders to explain why they had killed a bull on their farm "in ane heathenish mannere". In his defense Mackenzie told the elders the sacrifice was an attempt to recover the health of his sick wife. It was not recorded who the animal was sacrificed to.

In 1650 a woman was called to account before the kirk elders for killing and burying a lamb under the threshold of a house, a magical liminal place. She told them she had sacrificed one of her flock of new-born lambs, the healthiest, so the rest would be protected from disease. When Isobel Young was charged with sorcery in 1692 for burying a live ox, her son told the court it was common husbandry practice and nothing to do with witchcraft. In a program broadcast at Hallowe'en 2009 the local radio station on the Isle of Lewis mentioned a letter written by a 17th century visitor to the island calling on the laird and the church to outlaw 'barbaric customs' at that time of year. The writer said he had seen a bull sacrificed and its blood spilt on the earth and ritual bonfires blazing on every hill. (Letter from Linda Fallows to author 31.10.2009)

On the Isle of Mull disease broke out in the herds of cattle in 1767. It was decided to take drastic measures to deal with the outbreak. A need- fire was lit on a hilltop without the use of flint and by friction between two pieces of wood. 'Need' is from the Old English niedfyr and the Old German nieten, meaning 'to churn'. The fire had to be lit before moonrise and during its lighting an old man chanted an incantation. Then a sick heifer was sacrificed and the diseased part of the animal was cut out and burnt on the need-fire. The rest of the good meat was then cooked and eaten by all those present as the fire gradually burnt down.

An ancient druidic cure for epilepsy still practiced in the Highlands at the beginning of the 20th century required the sacrifice ofa black cockerel. A hole was dug near to where the patient had experienced their last fit. The bird was buried alive while an incantation was read out calling on the earth to "swallow the evil". Shortly afterwards the sufferer would recover and, it was claimed, would have no more fits during their life.

In 1909 when a farmer died on Orkney his grieving family sacrificed his prize heifer. This was said to be an offering to the hogboy or hogboon, from the Norwegian haug-bui or haug-buinn meaning 'mound dweller'. This was the Norse term for a tutelary or guardian spirit associated with ancient burial mounds. Sometimes the hogboy was believed to be the shade or earthbound spirit of a former owner of the nearby farmstead or the ancestral founder of the family concerned. They remained earthbound to watch over their property, land and descendants and to monitor the progress of the estate down the generations.

In the 18th century Martin Martin said that the inhabitants on the Isle of Lewis still performed sacrifices to an ancient sea-god called Shoni or Shoney on Hallowe'en (October 31s). They brewed a special beer and after sunset threw cups of it into the sea. Afterwards everyone went to the local kirk and sat in the pews in silence while a candle was lit on the altar. This candle had to burn down and go out before they would leave. The rest of the night was then spent in the fields drinking, eating, singing and dancing. It was believed this ritual would ensure a good crop of seaweed used as fertilizer on the fields and therefore a bountiful harvest for the next year.

In the Hebrides St Michael, the patron saint of horses, horsemen and boats, was spoken of in the 19th century as "the god Michael". On the saint's feast day of Michaelmas (September 29th), a special bannock or oat cake was baked inside a lamb's skin. It was then blessed at a special Mass by the priest and dedicated to the saint. It was also a traditional custom on the same day to hold horse races and, unusually, both men and women participated in these events.

As well as blood sacrifices there was also a folk tradition of making offerings to the genii loci, the 'spirits of a place' or nature spirits, that inhabited the countryside. In 1697 when Martin Martin was travelling through Scotland he said country people still held pre-Christian beliefs. Although they claimed to outsiders that they were God-fearing pious folk, secretly they believed the hills were inhabited by spirits and made offerings to them. These entities could appear in an instant from their natural hiding places whenever they wanted to startle a passing traveller.

In January 1657 at Cullen in Forfarshire Margaret Philp was arrested on a charge of practising witchcraft. Her servant, Isobel Imblaugh, who may have been related to Philp's husband as they shared the same surname, testified she had seen her mistress have dealings with a spirit taking the form of a talking hare. Imblaugh said she had seen Philp put out a bannock, a jug of beer and a piece of meat for the sprite and the next morning it was all gone. On another occasion the spirit-hare had allegedly entered the house through an open window and drank the beer left out for it in a bowl. In the 19th century superstitious Highlanders left offerings of milk at 'fairy hills' (prehistoric burial mounds) and standing stones for the faeries known as brownies.

Aspects of pagan moon worship also survived in folk magic and folk customs. People believed warts could be cured by a simple ritual at new moon. When its crescent was first seen in the night sky a handful of soil was taken from under the right foot of the sufferer. This was then made into a paste using the affected person's saliva and spread over the infected part of the skin. This was then covered with a dressing and left until the lunar disc had waxed to full and then waned again. It was removed when the crescent of the next new moon was seen in the sky. It was said that this procedure was always successful in removing the blemish. Unmarried women also performed a ritual at the new moon to divine who their future lovers or husbands would be. When they could see the lunar crescent in the sky they sat astride a gate or stile without any underwear on. They then recited the following charm:

'All hail to thee the moon, All hail to thee, I privy good moon, declare to me, This very night, who my husband shalt be'

Various wells and springs all over Scotland were visited until comparatively recent times for healing purposes. Many of these places were said to have specific properties to heal diseases and illnesses in a throwback to pre-Christian times. For instance any well dedicated to St Tegla was claimed to be able to cure the 'falling sickness', probably dizziness caused by fluctuating blood pressure levels. St John's Well at Balmanno in Kincardshire was frequented by parents taking their children to be cured of rickets, a once common disease caused by malnutrition. St Kilda's Well cured deafness and drinking the waters of Trinity Well in Perthshire was reputed to be able to cure even the so- called Black Death, or bubonic plague.

St Fillan's Well near Tyndwell in Perthshire was visited by those suffering from mental illness. They were first dipped in the water by their carers and then taken to a nearby chapel. Once inside they were tied up and the chapel's bell was placed on top of their heads. The patient was then left in this uncomfortable and rather undignified position overnight. When their relatives returned the next morning at dawn they were supposed to have been cured.

Another well used to try and cure the mentally ill was situated on the isle of St Maelrubla on Loch Moree in Ross and Cromarty. Near the well was a tree where pilgrims hammered coins into its trunk as offerings to the saint or the spirit of the well. There were also the remains of a stone altar on the island allegedly used by the druids to sacrifice bulls on in ancient times. When St Columba arrived in the area he reconsecrated it to the Christian faith.

People suffering from depression, anxiety, or other mental problems were rowed out to the island in boats. Just before reaching landfall they were thrown out into the shallow water and then dragged by ropes the rest of the way to the shore. Once at the well they were forced to drink the water and a piece of their clothing was cut off and hung from one of the branches of the tree. An offering of a coin was then made by hammering it into the trunk. It was said that the well's healing properties were negated when a shepherd threw his mad dog into it. This apparently caused the spirit who inhabited the well to leave.

Some of the holy wells were only potent at certain times of the year. One example was at Craigie, which only possessed healing properties on the first Sunday in May. Its waters were said to be a powerful antidote to all known diseases, malefic witchcraft and the baleful influence of the Good People or faery folk. Crowds gathered at the well and colored threads and scraps of clothing were hung on the shrubs and rocks surrounding it.Other wells were given offerings of pins, needles or coins in a far memory of the sacrifices given to water deities in pagan times.

The prehistoric megalithic monuments of Scotland still retained their special nature after the conversion to the new religion. An ancient custom of holding legal courts at stone circles for settling property and land disputes survived into historical times. The bishop of Aberdeen held one at the Ring of Peddles and a nobleman called William de Saint Michael was summoned to attend it. He was asked to explain why he had seized some property from the Catholic Church. Forty years later the son of King Robert II of Scotland held a special court at a stone circle and called the bishop of Moray to justify why he was making a claim on some land at Badenoch. This ancient custom also survived in Wales. In the 1980s a man asked a council official to meet him on neutral ground at the Pentre Ifan cromlech near Newport in Pembrokeshire to discuss a longstanding property disagreement.

Following the conversion of the pagan Scots prehistoric sites like stone circles, standing stones and burial mounds were popularly believed to be the meeting places of witches, the haunts of spirits of the ancestral dead, and the habitat of faeries, elves and goblins. One witch was seen to regularly visit a local standing stone for unknown purposes of a magical nature. Another, Helen Rogie of Lumpahana, was accused of building a cairn or pile of stones on a hilltop for the practice of alleged 'devil worship.' She was probably making offerings to, or doing rituals involving, the genii loci.

In 1649 the male witch Andro or Andrew Man was accused of setting up a stone as an idol. He was seen to perform a "superstitious ceremony", taking off his hat to bow to it. In his defense Man claimed it was only a boundary stone marking the edge of his land and the beginning of his neighbor's. This is interesting in itself as in prehistoric times standing stones were often erected for just this purpose, to divide one tribe's land from another's. Such boundary makers were also regarded as having a magical liminal significance. The kirk refused to accept Man's explanation and decided he was performing some kind of “heathenish practice". He was ordered to break the stone into four pieces.

One of the earliest recorded examples of witchcraft in Scotland was in the 2nd century CE when King Natholocus consulted a famous witch living on the sacred island of Iona. The King had just lost an important battle with a rebel army who were trying to overthrow him. He sent a messenger to the witch to ask her advice about what he should do next. Unfortunately after consulting the spirits she predicted the King would be murdered. This dastardly deed would not be carried out by one of his enemies, but by somebody close to him who he trusted.

The King's messenger demanded to know by whose treacherous hand his master would be killed. The witch gave a mocking laugh and replied; "Even thine, so shalt be well known within these few days." The man returned to court in some distress and at first he was reluctant to pass the witch's prediction to the King. He thought if he told the truth the King would put him to death. However, if he kept it secret one of the others present might tell the King anyway. Only one possible alternative was left. Just as the witch had predicted, he entered the King's bedchamber during the night and stabbed him dead while he slept.

St Patricus or Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was a 5th century Romano-British subject allegedly kidnapped by Irish pirates and sold as a slave to the king of the Dalriada tribe in Scotia. However an alternative story says that Patrick was forced to flee from his home country of Scotland to Ireland after being attacked by the witches of Dumbarton. He fled in a boat across the sea to escape them as he knew the dark sisterhood were unable to cross water.

During the 7th century King Kenneth became so concerned at the widespread practice of witchcraft and wizardry in his Scottish kingdom that he passed a new law condemning its practitioners to death. Three hundred years later King Duffus (who reigned from 962 to 966), the son of King Malcolm I, fell ill with a mysterious malady and began to physically fade away. His physicians could not help him and they began to believe some form of witchcraft was involved in the ruler's dramatic and potentially fatal decline in health.

A few days after the King became ill word reached the court that a number of witches had been gathering nearby to magically bring his death. A young girl who worked in the royal kitchens had been overheard threatening Duffus' life. The governor of Forres Castle immediately ordered her to be arrested and interrogated about the alleged plot. She named her own mother as the head of a witches' coven casting spells against the sick King. As a result of the servant girl's confession several women including her mother were detained. They were caught red- handed in the act of roasting a wax image representing the King over a fire. Once the image had been destroyed and the witches summarily executed the King recovered his health.”

—

Scottish Witches and Warlocks

by Michael Howard

#witchcraft #traditional withcraft #scottish witchcraft #Scottish Magic #Scottish witches and warlocks #Michael Howard

141 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Summary: Steve begins his life at Camp Lehigh, throwing himself into training alongside the other candidates for Operation Rebirth and is shocked when on his first day he comes face to face with someone he hadn’t been expecting to see again…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

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.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were to form part of a programme run by the Strategic Science Reserve, a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between teo men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!” A female voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.” He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both who was clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck! Steve swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” A man further down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Then, there was a flurry of movement and in a flash Katie was behind him, jerking his arm up his back. She aimed a sharp kick to the back of his knee causing Hodge to stumble to the floor. She went with him, her knee planted firmly in the base of his spine, arm twisting even more and he gave out a yell, “Okay, okay I yield.”

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and trousers as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders, hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” He nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits. “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” He paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers. And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was five days away! Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure,” he continued, “an experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts,” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

***** Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

He knew it was stupid, as he hardly knew the dame, but he felt betrayed, and if truth be told a little confused. Betrayed at the fact she’d kept her true identity and vocation from him, confused as to why she’d kissed him, especially if she was married and knew they’d end up working together. It confounded his original opinion that she’d done it out of some kind of obligation, a thank you if you will for him stepping in that day on the street. Not that he needed to step in, it was perfectly clear now she’d been able to handle herself.

He looked down at the tasteless bully beef and dumplings, before he sighed and continued to eat. Whilst he wasn’t particularly hungry he knew that he had to keep his strength up, especially if he wanted to have any chance to complete the training that was in store tomorrow. When he’d had his fill, he took the tray over to the clear down area and headed outside into the warm New Jersey evening.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He trudged down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark.”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” She shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.

“What’s with the Ma’am?” She frowned but Steve ignored her question. Her frown deepened and she cocked her head to one side. “Wait, are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh. “Steve, I…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on, Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms. “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned. “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” She let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” He stopped dead.

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do?”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” She looked at him. “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

Steve looked at her again before he glanced away, not quite sure what had come over him. He’d literally never had a conversation with a woman that lasted longer than a few minutes, if that, and here he was for the second time with her just rolling with it, and not just that, he was actually being a little rude. His ma would not be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite. “That was rude. I guess, well, it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Well, I’m not like most guys.” Steve instantly retorted, repeating the sentiment she had expressed to him mere days ago. She blinked a little, before she gave a huff of laughter and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” Feeling emboldened Steve asked hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Not for certain.” Katie shook her head. “I had an idea when you told me it was a doctor from a Science Division that had recruited you but until I saw your name on the new-recruit roster this morning, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder. “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion. “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him. “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid. “And I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” He snorted. “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her. “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged which means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

He felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

***** Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning, Steve had done five different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination. He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!”

Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged ten or fifteen yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

"Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!” Sergeant Duffy instructed as they rounded the corner of the dirt path, drawing up behind a jeep which was parked by a flag pole surrounded by white rocks on the ground. “Squad, halt!”

Finally, Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

Steve pushed his helmet back up his head, remaining where he was simply watching as the entire unit all tried to climb the pole. It was a free for all, men pushing each other out of the way, elbows flying, fists flailing. Steve however scanned the pole up and down, his brain logically thinking it through. There had to be a way to get that flag down without having to climb the pole, otherwise how did they put it up there in the first place?

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in seventeen years!” He shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

That signalled the end of the little pole exercise, but not for Steve. As everyone cleared away he walked towards it, glancing first at the bottom of the pole, then up to the top, squinting slightly against the sun. If he was right…

“Rogers! I said fall in!” Duffy barked, but Steve ignored him as he bent down and pulled the pin out at the bottom of the pole causing it to fall with a loud crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tossed the pin to the floor with a clang as everyone fell silent, watching as he removed the flag from the rope which held it to the pole. He handed it to Sergeant Duffy on his way past.

“Thank you, sir.” He said gently as he climbed into the back of the jeep. Agent Carter turned to face him from her seat in the front and he shot her a smile which she returned, an amused look spreading across her features.

Steve was damned glad of that ride home as, following lunch, they were subjected to another physical activity, this one a seemingly endless circuit training involving star jumps, push up, sit ups you name it.

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking over towards the group of men. She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

Steve had no idea how many he did, but he continued going, his arms and legs both spreading and then coming back together as he made jump after jump. He grit his teeth, powering through the burn he was feeling in his muscles, tossing his head out of the way slightly as his dog tags bounced off his chest after a particularly energetic leap, smacking him straight in the nose.

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

All logic flew from Steve’s head and as the rest of the unit scattered he instinctively dived towards the explosive, covering it with his body, curling his knees into his chest in an attempt to minimise the impact to everyone round him.

“Get away!” He yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him, “get back!”

He remained curled in on himself, waiting and waiting but nothing happened. Eventually he looked up, to see everyone was slowly starting to go back to normal and he sat up, frowning a little, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” Someone spoke as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” He asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Katie tore her eyes from his to turn to Dr Erskine who was also smiling and they both simultaneously moved their attention to Colonel Phillips. He shot them both a withering look as he spoke before he turned to walk away. As he passed Katie he stopped, pointed to Steve who was now getting to his feet and she nodded, saluting.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, once again patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers,” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him, “with me.”

“Ma’am.” He scrambled after her, tripping over his feet slightly as he hurried to catch up with her, glancing back at the line of men who were now being addressed by Agent Carter before she dismissed them all.

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head. “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” The surprise was evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices. “So that’s why you were there that day.”

Katie grinned. “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark.” He greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office. She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior. “At ease, Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days, Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.”

Phillips shot her another look which she met with a smirk and he scoffed a little, turning his attention to Steve. “So, Rogers, Dr Erskine has chosen you as the candidate to become our first Super Soldier.”

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

Steve pondered for a second. Truth be told he had a lot of questions, but the biggest one, the why, that was going to have to wait for Dr Erskine himself. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Agent before his eyes flicked to Colonel Phillips, and back again.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“You’ll be injected with Erskine’s formula.” Katie looked at Steve “This will cause immediate change to your cells, your DNA. Then to stimulate the change and growth, you’ll be subjected to an intense permeation of Vita-Rays, in a chamber that my brother and Erskine developed especially.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged. “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug. “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over fourteen hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says,” Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “there’s little to no time for contemplation.”

“There’s fourteen hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke. “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers? Because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like five days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

“Your basic training, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be a problem.” Peggy shook her head “Our intention is to continue to train you up fully so that you’re prepared to lead the others who we, well, who we convert.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced once more at Katie, who was staring to her left, her jaw set. Was he in? He began to logically step through things in his head. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew full well that if he said no he’d be shipped off to another unit and likely sent home or shoved into some kind of non-combat role due to his current lack of physical abilities or strength. The serum might not work, but then what? He ended up deformed? Or dead? But if he was perfectly honest with himself, having had a taste of what it was like to do what he always wanted to, if the opportunity was taken away from him, he might as well be dead anyway.

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“God forbid we do things properly.” Katie mumbled. Phillips shot her another withering glare before he waved a pen at Steve. Steve stepped forward, took the pen off him and glanced down at the form. His eyes scanned it and then, without further hesitation he scribbled his name on the space at the bottom.

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want, within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled. “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” She asked him as they left the building. “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up. “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him. “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

“For now, no. Plenty of time for me to change my mind though.” And with that, just as she had done at the expo she turned and left him standing there, tossing him a wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

*****

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw for a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last ten minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’,” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point, “he says, ‘you will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

That name Steve recognised from before, the one Katie told him about. He watched as Erskine continued talking, once more pushing his glasses up his nose. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist.” Erskine paused as Steve looked at him, understanding immediately he was referring to Schmidt taking the formula. “Schmidt must become that superior man.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Yeah. But, there were other effects.” Erskine conceded, but didn’t elaborate further. “The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” He explained and Steve glanced down, taking all the information in “This is why you were chosen.”

At that Steve looked back up at him, his brow furrowing deeply as Erskine continued “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, frowning slightly, “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing.” Erskine said, corking the bottle one more and setting it down on the floor “That you will stay who you are.” Erskine took a glass off Steve and stared straight into his eyes, almost as if he was trying to drive the message home. “Not a perfect soldier, but a good-“ he pointed at Steve’s chest “- man.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled. “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered. “No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” He reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself. “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

Steve gave a small smile as the doctor knocked back the clear liquid in the glass and was just about to speak to tease him a little about making sure he had a clear head for the morning, when there was another knock on the door. Steve’s head turned to look as Katie stepped inside the dorm, smiling.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning, Steven.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he strode past, the bottle of schnapps in his hand as Katie moved to allow him through the doorway. He smiled once more before he shut the door behind him leaving the pair of them in the dim light of the bare sleeping room. Steve looked at Katie, inhaling deeply as even in the simple combat trousers and plain khaki t-shirt she was wearing she still looked effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back off her face in a simple braid, and her skin was devoid of her usual make up, lips clear of their normal bright red paint. He realised with a slight swallow that this is what she’d look like at home, last thing at night and first thing in the morning…

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk, “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her. “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” She looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” He repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.”

Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just, well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” He asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic.” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

At that Steve gave a snort. “Come on Doll, physically I’m a wreck. That’s one of the reasons Erskine picked me.” no sooner had he spoke, he realised what he’d said and his eyes widen at the involuntary use of the pet term but Katie merely laughed, arching her brow.

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh. “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed. “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez!” He snorted shaking his head as she laughed. “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose. “In that case I take it back.”

“Thank you, now I feel great.” Steve retorted sarcastically and she laughed loudly, snorting as she did so. Her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth as Steve chuckled at her very un-lady like manner, his head falling forward as his own laughs rang out around the barracks. Eventually, Katie managed to stop, wiping her eyes and she shook her head.

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment. “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his parents were both dead, it was fairly obvious she would have read his file. Instead he simply smiled and looked down at his hands “I like to think so. Although I’m pretty sure if my ma was still around and knew what I was doing tomorrow she’d have a coupla’ things to say about it. And a few slaps ready for the back ‘o ma head!”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’!” She mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head. “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him. “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging. “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically, who I am kinda got me through the door.” Katie shrugged, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued. “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent Thirteen was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged. “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged. “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status, and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

At that both her eyebrows raised and he cursed himself. He’d managed most of this conversation so far not to put his foot in his mouth and now, wham, kicked himself straight in the teeth. “Or a beautiful… a woman.” He floundered for words “An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but…”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“Because up until the point I met you I think the longest conversation I ever had with a woman would have been with Mrs Barnes or Mrs Tomley.” he looked up at her, before he glanced back down at his hands. “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

“Well, I think all the girls in Brooklyn are dumbasses for not noticing you.” With her words she stood up and crossed to the bed he was sat on, taking a spot besides him. Steve swallowed, his entire body going rigid at the fact she was so close to him and she turned her face to look into his eyes. “You’re sweet”

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said,” she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “dumbasses”

Steve looked at her before he felt his cheeks once more growing warm and he looked away, hastily, focussing on nothing in particular as her words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to respond to praise, not in the sense in which she was giving it to him anyway.

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward, Steve?” She asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel awkward.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she glanced back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light. “But I just, well, I like you Steve,” she whispered, “I mean, really like you.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” He took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as surprise but he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” She asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” He swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” He licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

Steve had to concede she had a point, and as he looked into her eyes he could feel that last thread of his self-control starting to fray. Every inch of his body was on fire for her, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her stupid and feel her underneath him.

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his. “Just run with it.”

So he did. He kissed her hard, dropping to his elbows and pressing a little more of his weight on top of her, totally lost in her warmth and softness. He let out another soft sigh as he felt her shift underneath him and pulled away, turning his head so that his lips were inches from her neck as he recalled a part of a film he’d seen. He glanced up at her as she watched him, her pupils blown with a combination of lust and anticipation.

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered softly.

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. As he did so, his arms and hands moved downwards slowly, his fingers timidly resting on her hips as they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him as she groaned slightly at the contact. Steve pulled back to stare at her again, her noise shocking him slightly, not sure what to do next but Katie wordlessly answered his silent question by tilting her hips up again, and this time it was him who moaned.

“Katie, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

Steve’s mouth was dry again as he glanced down at her chest, her hair falling around her shoulders, breasts spilling over the tops of the simple, black balcony cups of her bra and his groin twitched, the crotch of his pants now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he froze as he found himself once more unsure of his next move. Swallowing hard against the lump that felt like it was obstructing his entire throat he began to gently squeeze and knead the soft flesh and black lace, before he stopped again to consider his next move.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop,” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements, he became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

“More,” Katie moaned into his mouth, and with movements that were completely and utterly automatic he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. It should have been wrong, rutting up against someone fully clothed, but God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him

As he pressed up against her, the tightening across his lower stomach that he’d only felt before when bringing himself off warned him he was fast approaching his release. He let out another groan as he felt his movements beginning to lose rhythm and he moved his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin. Katie moaned brokenly and his mouth continued pressing kisses to the spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

There was no noise bar the sound of the crickets drifting in from the outside as they both lay, breathing deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies, a light sheen of sweat beaded across Steve’s brow, wisps of his hair sticking to his skin. Finally mustering enough strength to move, he raised his head to look at her, to find her smiling as she pushed her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wow,” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same, “you got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I. Well, not to that extent anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” She asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath. “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

**** Chapter 3

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

72 notes · View notes

justalarryblog · 3 years

Text

💮give and take by @sky_reid (1k) | Explicit

sometimes louis just needs.

💮One for Luck by @leavingonatrain (96k) | Explicit

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles’ deep, deep voice, he’s just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he’s officially back on Great Britain’s Olympic team. He’s also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there’s a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life’s grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

💮Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet? by @afangirlfantasy (45k) | Mature

“It sounds to me like the people you’ve allowed to be a part of your life, don’t deserve even a fraction of a minute of it.” As they repeat over and over, Harry calls out to fate and destiny, asking them why that can’t be true? Why can’t Harry be deserving of love? Why can’t Harry be as special as Louis argues he is? Louis’ beliefs ring in Harry’s mind like the most hopeful of gospels, and Harry wants to proclaim them as his new religion. But when his hands reach out into the vast emptiness of his flat to grab them, to grab Louis, there’s only a shard of a memory to clutch onto.

AU where Harry doesn’t know what it means to be in love, and Louis’ still in love with somebody else.

💮I Cannot Dream Tonight Series by @afangirlfantasy (50k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

💮Birds in Gilded Cages by @graveyardwitch (157k) | Mature

There is a hotel in London where beautiful young men and women are kept like birds in a gilded cage, prisoners bound to satisfy your deepest darkest desires….

After being kidnapped as a teenager, Harry Styles was forced into high-class prostitution by the evil Mr Cowell. Louis Tomlinson is heir to his father’s corporation, set to inherit millions…But engaged to a woman he doesn’t love and deeply unhappy. When they meet at a party sparks fly and they embark on a passionate and dangerous relationship…But can it ever be true love when one of you is being paid? And can Louis ever rescue Harry from The Bird Cage Hotel?

Warning-This story is about prostitution so there will be a LOT of sex. I do not own One Direction etc etc. I do ship Larry but I don’t care if it’s real or not, I just like reading and writing the fanfic.

💮Don’t Waste Your Time On Me, You’re Already The Voice Inside My Head by @afangirlfantasy (28k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

💮driving instructor fic by @LoadedGunn (104k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who’s really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

💮His Submission Series by tonystankyall (orphan_account) (152k) | Mature

Louis Tomlinson lives in a world where Domination and Submission is a norm. When you are born you are either branded Sub or Dom. Subs get a little pink or blue, depeneding on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck. Doms get Red or Black, depending on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck.

Louis Tomlinson was branded with a Blue tattoo and his day has finally come. The day of his 18th birthday where he will be randomly assigned a Dom. This dom could range from younger to older, poorer to richer, and male to female. You never knew what you were going to get. Some Doms were more harsher and stricter than others. Louis didn’t want a harsh Dom to submit to.

Harry Styles was branded with a Black tattoo and he just recieved in the mail that he was finally getting a submissive. Harry was a 32 year old man, settled in, and very very rich. He’s been waiting for an assigned submissive to be chosen for him for a very long time. His Dom friend, Zayn, has gotten his submissive two years prior, a little spit fire irish boy, Niall.

*The rest is in the note*

💮Loving You Is Free by @littlelouishiccups (91k) | Explicit

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

💮sex shop fic (dildornado ‘verse) by @istajmaal, @LoadedGunn (96k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is the most helpful sex shop salesperson in the history of sex shops, and Harry really was just looking for a vibrator with simple instructions (yet ended up getting a hands-on demonstration).

💮Dance Floor Whore by @ropewithnoanchor (7k) | Explicit

Louis and Harry go to a club while on tour to blow off some steam, but Harry gets too drunk and lets another man dance up on him in front of everyone. Louis takes him back to their hotel and spends the next morning punishing Harry, making Harry work to make it up to him.

💮Hold On To The Words You Spoke (Anchored Down In The Throat) by @justletmegohome (13k) | Explicit

“No, no. Louis, just stop. It’s not stupid, it’s never stupid. Believe it or not, I care. I care so much. Do you honestly think I’d still have my dick in your ass if I didn’t?”

Louis chuckles at that, but it’s sad, Harry notes it’s not right. “That will change when I tell you.”

“Never.” Harry kisses every bit of his face he can reach, he has no idea how that can help but he’s going to do it anyways.

“I don’t like the way I sound. ’S all,” Louis says in one breath, going coy as soon as he’s done speaking, his eyes casting downwards.

For a moment, Harry can’t believe his ears. Or the words Louis just said even if he can see them hanging in the air between them. Harry is not even sure if he listened He doesn’t want to believe them, maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time coming up with his own words.

*** Basically, Louis is loud. And then he isn’t. Harry ties him up to find out why. ***

💮I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

💮leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

💮Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back) by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

💮smile in slow motion by @istajmaal (24k) | Explicit

“It’s 2011, Niall. People can fuck their friends’ faces without it meaning anything more than that.”

or, Louis is Harry’s dom and maybe also his soulmate.

💮sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me by @moonlightlouis (4k) | Not Rated

harry’s been a naughty boy and needs to be punished and louis is there to do it

💮Sweet Dreams by @dormant_bender (5k) | Explicit

When fantasies become reality.

💮To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature

At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.

Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.

Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨

53 notes · View notes

arjuna-vallabha · 3 years

Photo

In the years leading upto the Battle of Plassey , Bengal was going through some extremely tough times . Accounts by contemporary writers describes vividly the problems faced by the common man . This was a period when the East India company was gaining more political power . The true ruling class , the Nawab of Bengal and his aides immersed themselves in luxury and debauchery . On the other hand infamous zamindaars such as Devi Singha made life miserable for the common folk . And then there was famines , epidemics , droughts and inability to pay taxes . But still the people fought on with a smile on their lips . But even that seemed to disappear with the onset of Maratha raids into Bengal in mid 18th century . The “bargee” attacks , as they became popularly known , was so devastating and horrifying that they have been permanently etched in Bengali memory in form of lullaby songs . Even today bengali mothers lull their babies to sleep singing “ Sleep fast my child , for the bargees are coming ! The bulbul birds have eaten all crops , how are we going to pay taxes ? “But who were these ‘bargees’ ?The word bargee is thought to derive from Persian ‘Baargee’ which denoted a cavalry soldier . The other type of cavalry men used to be called Shiledaars . The government used to provide horses and weaponry to the baargees . The shiledaars on the other hand had to source these themselves . In those times , the sultans of Ahmednagar developed the art of sudden stealth attacks , which came to be known as ‘baargeer-giri’ . This mode of guerrilla warfare was effective and gained massive popularity all throughout the Deccan , including Maharashtra . In the year 1740 Alivardi Khan defeated and killed his master and the then Nawab of Bengal , Sarafaraz Khan and himself sat on the throne of Bengal . But the brother in law of Sarfaraz , Naib Nazeem of Orissa Rustam Jung turned against Alivardi to avenge the wrong done to his brother . Alivardi defeated Rustam Jung and dethroned him from his Orissa office . In retaliation , Rustam Jung went to Nagpur and sought the help of Raghuji Bhonsle , the then ruler of the region . Raghuji Bhonsle’s Diwan , Bhaskar Kolhatkar AKA Bhaskar Pandit launched an attack on Bengal with all his might . The raids continued for a period spanning 9 years and according to contemporary Dutch estimates , four lakh people died in the bloodbath . It devastated the economy of Bengal and created a period of anarchy and terror . The bargees gradually approached uptill the capital at Murshidabad and sacked the city and plundered the houses of the rich . The Britishers of East India Company on the other hand became anxious about a possible attack on the emerging prosperous city of Calcutta , their main hub . To deter any attack , they began digging a giant moat around the entire town . Luckily the bargees did not attack Calcutta and the work on the moat was discarded midway . The moat was eventually filled up in 1890s and made into upper and lower circular roads ( Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose road & Acharya Prafulla Chandra road presently ) A certain poet named Gangaram composed a poetry describing the affairs of the bargee raids in his book called “Maharashtra Puran” . Parts of it describe the horrors faced by civilians in those times – “ They round up everyone and loot their gold and silver . They cut off the hands of some . To others they cut off the nose and the ears . For the rest they simply chop off their heads . The pretty ladies they take away and tie them up . Then they take turns to rape until they start crying to be spared . The set the homes of the rich on fire and destroy all the temples of Vishnu . They tie up their captives , fold up their hands and kick on their chest with their heavy boots . Those who have money give it to them and escape death . Those who don’t have money have no other option other than to surrender to death . The Brahmins flee with their sacred books under their arms ! The goldsmiths flee with their measuring insruments . The shopkeepers flee with their wares . The metal workers flee with their copper and brass . The blaksmiths flee along with earthen pot makers . The fishermen flee with their nets . Rich men’s wives unaccustomed to walking flee with loads over their heads ! The khetris and the rajputs also flee in fear dropping their swords . The gosais and the mohants of temples flee on palanquins . The Mughals , sayeds and sheikhs also flee in terror hearing of the bargees . The pregnant women are forced to deliver their child along roadways . “None managed to escape the wrath of the bargees. Numerous temples of Bengal were looted and plundered . Fables narrate how the iconic neem wood deity of Dhameshwar Gouranga ( Chaitanya mahaprabhu ) , worshipped by Bishnupriya ( Consort of Mahaprabhu himself ) also had to be buried for quite a few years to save him from the bargee raids! Such lawlessness continued for almost 9 years . In the end , the nawab of Bengal entered into a pact of truce with the bargees conceding Orissa to them on the condition that they would never return to Bengal . During such tumultuous times , the bargees reached upto the capital of the Malla dynasty kings – Bishnupur . Mallas have been a dominant power in that part of the state for more than a 1000 years ! When the bargees approached , the people panicked and started praying to the presiding deity of the town , Madanmohan . It is said that during this time people saw Madanmohan manifest and rush into battlefield ! He lifted up a giant iron cannon and started firing into the bargee hordes that were trying to enter the city . The cannon would later get the name ‘Dala-mardana’ or “destroyer of hordes” and can still be seen in Bishnupur . Madanmohan successfully defeated the bargees and protected his devotees . This tale has been narrated for centuries in Bishnupur and has become one of the popular religious folklores of Bengal . But this Madanmohan is not originally a deity of Bishnupur . He is said to have been brought to Bishnupur from elsewhere by Malla king Bir Hambir .One source opines that Madanmohan originally resided at the ShriPaat Chaatraa of Srirampore . This was the residence of Kashishwar Pandita , one of the associates of Chaitanya . Bir Hambir brought Madanmohan to his kingdom and after installing a new deity of Radharani beside him , honoured him with the status of ‘Nagar devata’ of Bishnupur . The entire story raises some fundamental questions and doubts – The first question is , if the marathas are considered the champions of Hinduism and viewed largely as upholders of indian valour , why did they plunder and loot the Bengali temples ?! The second question that may arise is , did Madanmohan indeed manifest and do this impossible act ? In order to answer this , one must understand that history is never unidimensional and one pointed as we tend to think . History has many complex layers . As the saying goes – “ history is written by victors “ . If we twist it slightly it would be safe to say that history is written by the privileged . Or perhaps , History is most often written with an agenda ! Therefore history , by its very nature , can never be complete nor foolproof . We tend to overlook the fact that in history two opposing ideas can also be true simultaneously . Therefore , every Brahmin need not be a tyrant evil oppressor nor every low caste an oppressed . Every deity taken away from a temple may not amount to a sacrilege and dishonour of hinduism . Taj mahal is not a name changed hindu shaivite temple . Gyan Vapi is not a mosque built on virgin soil . A thousand such historical over simplifications or agenda driven narratives have done more damage to true history than good . It is very necessary to have an open mind while discussing such a tricky subject as ‘bargee attack’ . I will lay down some points which will provide the readers with food for thought . But it is upto them to interpret why the bargees did what they did .1 – Bhaskar pandit organised a full fledged Bengali styled Durgotsav in Dainhaat of Bardhaman district . New pratima was built , new chandi mandap temple constructed and thousands of sacrificial animals were brought in and grand preparations were begun . But in the night of MahaNavami , Alivardi Khan sent a message of truce and took Bhaskar Pandit into confidence and had him killed . The puja remained unfinished . Even today ruins of the chandi mandap can be seen at Dainhaat . Understandably , Bhaskar pandit was not anti bengali or anti hindu per se and he embraced Bengali customs and culture . In this context it is worth remembering that the cult deity of Marathas , Tulja Bhawani ( from whom legend says Chatrapati Shivaji received his sword ) is also an image of Mahishamardini . Presumably , the marathas quickly saw the sameness in the rituals and ideas and were glad to adapt . 2- Just like the Mughal army had hindus in their ranks or the british indian army was largely constituted of the Indian soldiers , in the same way the bargees also had men of all castes and religions in their ranks . They even had large battalions of muslim men . It would be unfair to expect that the Islamic bargees would be respectful towards bengali idolators and their practices . 3- human ethics and moral values have underwent massive changes in recent times . In ancient times , we did not have human rights commission , supreme court or the like . Survival of the fittest was the mantra for the times . In an event of attack it was normal for the army to indulge in plunder and loot . The rulers unofficially allowed their men to have a free hand in ‘exploits of war’ after a hard earned victory . This was a sort of incentive for the men ! Remember in those days warfare had more to do with brute strength and direct combat than with intelligence as it has become nowadays after advent of computer controlled war machinery ! During such post war plunders , rape , looting , rampage and selling humans into slavery became the norm .This was true for the entire world throught history !4 – The temples in Bengal which harbour tales of bargee attacks are mostly vaishnavaite shrines , namely Radha Krishna or Gouranga ( Chaitanya ) temples . Both these divinities would have been unknown to the Marathas whose own brand of Vaishnavism were centered around Vithhal , Rukmini and Satyabhama . It is possible that unknown gods attracted more wrath .5- But interestingly the marathas were also one of the chief patrons of the Puri Jagannath temple . The hati vesha or Gaja vesha of Jagannath was directly due to Maratha influence over Jagannatha cult . The form of Jagannatha too would have been largely unknown to the marathas . That being said , they would have definitely been aqquianted with the tirtha mahatmya of Puri and the name of Jagannath from the puranas and scriptures . 6- In all probabilities Bhaskar Pandit did receive some support from the local hindu populace . The records of his durgotsav mentions throngs of villagers coming to participate in his puja . Presumably , there was both an element of fear and awe working amongst the masses . 7- It is hard to answer whether Madanmohan manifested in form or not , from a point of view of history . Such things are matters of faith and are best left untouched by history ( or even historians ) . However if we introspect purely from a historical perspective some hypothetical probabilities may be suggested . In hindu society when a man narrowly escapes a danger , he often attributes his miraculous escape to the mercy and compassion of his cherished deity . Its common for such a bhakta to say – “ I got saved due to intervention or madanmohan “ . It is very much possible that the Malla dynasty kings who ruled over a jungle infested tricky terrain and whose subjects largely comprised of martial races and tribes , overrun the bargees by their military strength and the pious king attributed the win to the mercy of Madanmohan . In due course of time this popular way of saying aqquired more realistic and literal connotations and became etched in collective memory as madanmohan manifesting in person ! Just a “what if” …. but worth a thought nonetheless !8 – It is also possible that the bargees themselves chose not to attack the malla kings , who in any case had been famous as champions of Hinduism for the last 1000 years . I have laid out the points to contemplate on . It is upto you to draw the final conclusion . History is never straightforward . All we can do is record and mention the loose ends . If the ends meet , well and fine . If they do not , it is best to be honest and admit that history is unclear thereafter , rather than to try make them meet by force and end up projecting a personal political or sociological agenda unto history . But even after so much , the people of Bishnupur could not keep their beloved Madanmohan in their town . Malla Raja Chaitanya Singha got into a financial debacle and had to take a loan of a thefty sum of money from rich zamindar businessman Gokul Mitra of Calcutta . By this time , the sun had already began to set on the glories of Malla dynasty and Calcutta had begun to emerge as the next economic and political capital of India . In exchange of the money , Chaitanya Singha mortgaged his nagar devata Madanmohan to Gokul Mitra . When Malla king was unable to return the money back in due time , Madanmohan was left back at disposal of Gokul who went to build him a grand new temple . Even today visitors to Kumartuli in Calcutta can see the grand temple of madanmohan built in typical greaco roman neoclassical colonial style . At Bishnupur a replica deity was installed which also got stolen a few decades back . A second replica of Madanmohan is presently housed in the original temple back at bishnupur . So did Madanmohan really manifest ? Well, the eyes of a rationalist seek out different things from the eyes of an artist . To an artist , his divine manifestation is of much more importance because it has ‘rasa’ . It has the power to soothe the mind and senses from the drudgery of daily monotonous existence . To the artist , the supernatural is more appealing than the natural . But then again it is the ‘natural’ that gives birth to the ‘supernatural’ . In this painting I have strived to bridge the gap between the two with the string of bhakti . Jay Madanmohan .

Text an art by Halley Goswami

#Krishna #hindu art #bengal #vaishnavism

28 notes · View notes

geniedocroe · 4 years

Text

CLOSE AS STRANGERS

(don malarkey X reader)

angst, potential fluff

wc: 4430+

you were very in love. in fact, you had been for quite a while. since your seventh birthday actually. it was a blur of memories now and you could just barely recognize it. thirteen years passed quickly. soon things began to change and the future you were seeing . . . it wasn’t very bright and happy.

donald malarkey (your best friend, soulmate, the person you were in love with) had always been very perfect in your eyes. there wasn’t much to despise about him. so you simply couldn’t. you couldn’t hate him. of course there were a few things that set you off. these were only little things though. for instance, when the two of you would share a milkshake or something of the sort and he’d accidentally drop it (he was fairly clumsy), or how he’d jokingly trip you (that ticked you off to no end), or when he’d notice everyone else but you . . .

despite these minuscule flaws you loved him. from his toes to the stunning freckles and ginger hair. he was as pretty as a picture. he truly was. you didn’t believe you were as pleasing to be around, but it was always a confidence boost when don politely asked your mother if you come outside for a while. you felt as though he cared when he did little things like that.

today was like any other. you sat on the front porch of the little house you had grown up in, reading a book.

you thought maybe that was why you weren’t as desirable as the other women in town. they all seemed so daft and boring. apparently these “men” didn’t appreciate someone who could use their brain. it frustrated you to no end.

your like any other day was actually very tedious. it was one warm day in june. your mother wouldn’t allow you to work because she encouraged you to attend college first, which you did, but it was summertime. there was not one thing for you to do. so half of your day was spent sitting on the porch, flipping through books you had appeared to have read hundreds of times.

the excitement bubbled throughout your chest when you saw a mess of red hair running your way. it was about time he had shown up. don ran through your front yard and up the steps. he stopped short of you, trying to catch his breath.

“good afternoon, ma’am.” the ginger managed to cough out with a very bad british accent. he never failed to try and turn anything into a joke.

you looked up from your book with a soft smile. you responded in the same accent. “good afternoon, my good sir.”

“the weathers quite alright today, isn’t it?” he questioned, sitting beside you on the swing.

“i guess it is looking rather nice.” you gazed towards the sky. immediately regretting your decision to be blinded by the sun, you blinked at him, seeing colors.

“nice enough for a walk?” don asked, dropping the accent.

you grinned, gently shutting the book before standing to enter the house. “let me ask my mother.”

“you’re twenty years old!” he called after you as the screen door slammed shut. your laugh could be faintly heard.

don gave a soft little chuckle at the sound of your own laughter. he thought it was quite musical. everything about you screamed peace. it was like tiny birds helped you get dressed in the morning, or mice aided you whilst cleaning the house. you were some sort of sweet dream. something that he didn’t even know he wanted, someone he didn’t know he needed.

he may have been smart at times, but he was completely oblivious to your feelings and his own. you hadn’t made it extremely obvious that you were infatuated with your best friend. however, you dropped a subtle hint every now and then. don would just seemingly dance around it, but after some time you realized he didn’t even know how love-struck you were. in fact, you didn’t think he shared that very same feeling. you didn’t think he even had a minuscule bit of that feeling.

don sure felt something, but he thought it was just nerves. his chest felt loose and fuzzy, his stomach seemed to have joined gymnastics, and he just couldn’t seem to stop wringing his hands when you were near. he didn’t hate the way it felt, then again he certainly didn’t appreciate it either.

seconds later you reappeared, slamming the screen door shut behind you. there was a distant yell within the house. don looked up at you with innocent eyes.

“she said yes, of course.”

he stood up with a grin plastered over his freckled face. you bounded down the steps with your dear friend in tow. as the two of you stepped onto the sidewalk, he looped his arm through your own. you appreciated this dearly. it was as close to holding hands that you were gonna get, but it was casual enough where people didn’t ask you too many questions. this action had also made you feel safe. like the two of you were just out of arms reach.

of course you never felt unsafe in don’s presence. you weren’t incapable of protecting yourself, he was just your knight in shining armor. don was there and you would never force him to leave.

“what book were you reading?” don asked, gazing over at you, taking you in as if there was no more time left in the world.

“the wonderful wizard of oz. i cannot tell you how many times i’ve read that book.”

don thought for a moment before replying excitedly. “do you remember when we saw the movie and you dumped that bucket of popcorn on that poor guy? his face is fried into my brain. that was truly one of your best moments.”

“i live to please.” you sighed, throwing up your free arm. “you know what i still can’t get over? how amazing judy garland is. like truly, she is perfect i think.”

“she may be judy garland, but she doesn’t have a thing on you.”

you ducked your head away as your cheeks began to grow warm. a little voice in the back of your brain was screaming at you to just tell him before it was too late. you didn’t know how much time you had left or what girl was going to come and steal him away before you got the chance.

the rest of your walk continued it silence. the empty moments were filled with tranquility. don felt as though he wouldn’t be able to experience times like this for a very long while. all he wanted was to be around his best friend. all he wanted was for you to understand. for you to hug him and tell him that everything would be alright in the end.

approaching “your spot” on this day was unlike any other. it was a beautiful maple tree in the middle of a field with one ancient looking tire swing. not a lot of people knew about this place so it was perfect to get away. to just be the both of you. this was your safe place. you loved it here. you practically grew up here.

you could faintly remember the moment everything changed for the two of you as best friends. the moment you fell in love. you wondered if don remembered it better than you did. you wondered if he even thought about it at all. because to you, it meant the world.

“hey don, can you promise me something?” you asked, hanging upside down from the tire swing. you struggled for a moment before jumping down.

“i’d promise you anything.” he smiled at you as you sat down beside him. the two of you leaned up against the tree, looking out over the field.

“promise we won’t ever be like my parents. that we’ll always be best friends. cause, my parents have no friends and i always want you around.” you wrung your hands together nervously.

“of course we’ll always be best friends. i promise.” he stuck out his pinky to you and you accepted graciously. “oh! i have something for you.”

don pulled his hand away to grab something in his front shirt pocket. the look he had on his face said everything. the excitement had built up at this point. in his hand was held a small chain with a locket hung securely on it. he handed it to you and watched as you inspected it. engraved onto the silver was “forever in my heart” with two tiny roses.

“wow, don!” you gave him a huge grin as he secured the necklace. you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. you spoke into his shoulder. “i love it. thank you!”

“happy birthday.” he said fondly as he pulled away. he stared at you for a moment before he made an impulsive decision.

it was quick and it surely caught you off guard, but don pressed his lips to yours in a fleeting motion. you stood their wide eyed as you blinked at your friend with burning cheeks. don’s face was almost as red as his hair. and you were sure you had never felt this way before.

even at seven years old, you fell in love.

you plopped down beneath the tree without a care in the world. dust flew up as you disturbed the spot with your presence. don stood hesitantly beside the tire swing. his hand reached out to hang onto the rope.

looking out over the empty field sent a warm sensation from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. the sky seemed to stretch for years and the grass was as yellow as ever but that never stopped you from adoring it. the soft chirp of birds was music to your ears. how could you ever learn to loathe a place like this?

“i need to tell you something.”

you looked towards don. he fiddled with the rope for a moment before looking up at you. he didn’t expect you to already be gazing at him with puppy dog eyes. the sight of you almost made his eyes well up with tears.

“i’ll always listen. you know that.”

“i know. that’s why this is going to be so hard.”

as he sat down beside you, you began to think. with the war going on you weren’t very confident in what he was meant to tell you. half the men you had gone to school with had already enlisted or been drafted. it was only a matter of time before don would be leaving too.

there was a moment of silence where the both of you gazed out into the open field. you had to remind yourself that this was the place you loved and that don was your best friend. he wouldn’t ever intentionally do anything to hurt you.

“y/n,” don turned to you, placing a hand on your knee. “i’m being drafted.”

you blinked at him once, twice, then a third time. he stared back at you with sincere, innocent eyes. he prayed that you would understand. that this would all be okay and your friendship wouldn’t suffer.

whatever preparation your mind had done was no use. not a single person on earth was ever ready to face war. it didn’t matter how old you were or how many horrors you had seen. don would come out of the other side of the war as someone else. you knew he would. he would barely make it out alive. you didn’t want to know that person.

“i have to go.” you muttered, shoving his hand away from your knee.

immediately you stood with don following suit. he looked so incredibly hurt by your sudden movements. this was not the reaction he had expected.

a part of you was telling you to turn around and hug him one last time as you stalked off. you knew he was following close behind you but you were hard to keep up with. it was like a giant black hole had materialized in your chest and was beginning to consume all of your organs.

a hand grabbed your shoulder and you whipped around at an ungodly speed. the tears in your eyes were visible. you weren’t angry. don took a step back from you. he frowned at your reaction but still managed to choke out a sentence.

“this isn’t my fault, y’know. i wish i didn’t have to go.” he tried to reach for your hand but decided against it at the last moment.

“i just hope you make it home some day. you stay safe wherever you go, kid. good luck.” you gave a small smile before turning once again.

don was quite taken aback. you hadn’t called him kid in years. it was a joke that had died away after being used one too many times. then it became something you only called him when you were hurting deep down. he couldn’t fathom that this was one of those times.

as you quickly walked through the field you saw flashes of your childhood before you. the good, the bad, all of it. you love it here. actually, loved it.

over the next few days, you and don had absolutely no interactions. you strayed away from him and he felt hopeless. any time you saw him approaching you, you ran in the other direction. however, he never seemed to chase after you. neither of you knew what hurt more.

all don wanted to do was say one last goodbye. he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again. there was some part of him that needed to see you but he couldn’t understand why. so, he left.

the day after don left you had begun to regret not going to see him. that black hole in your chest never subsided and you were afraid it was permanent. you had never gone so long without talking to him. the two of you had always been attached at the hip. if he never made it home . . . this silence would become your biggest regret.

your family looked at you with annoyance as you shoved the food around on your plate. you felt selfish to not want to eat but you truly weren’t hungry. you weren’t tired. you weren’t interested in anything. you had no motivation. it was obvious.

“what is the matter, dear?” your mother asked.

“nothing, mother.” you set down your fork, resting your chin in your hand.

“elbows off the table.” your mother instructed. you did as told. “it isn’t nothing, y/n. you haven’t spoke a full sentence in over a week. you haven’t left your bedroom. i haven’t even seen donald around here. are you ill? have the two of you gotten into an quarrel?” your mother questioned you with clear worry on her face. the rest of your family was silent. they looked at you curiously.

“i ain’t ill and there’s nothing wrong with don. he’s gone off to fight in the war. we won’t be seeing him for quite a while. we’ll be lucky to even see him again.” you huffed, studying the table cloth.

your siblings exchanged a glance. they didn’t understand the war. their naive innocent brains couldn’t comprehend why the war was being fought or why some people might not ever come home. you wished you could be as angelic as them.

“are you infatuated with that boy?” your father asked. mother elbowed him sharply in the side as your head shot up.

“infatuated?” you scoffed.

“let me tell you, y/n, military men are no good to marry. i like donald, but he’ll be completely gone after this war. they never come back home with a sane mind.” your father pointed his fork at you with a raised brow. “thought it will be such a same. he had a great future.”

“yes, because you’re such a great judge of character.” your mother dismissed her husbands opinion with a wave of her freshly manicured hand. “when he returns home you will dote on that boy. i’ve seen firsthand how much warfare can change a man, he’ll need all the help you can give him.”

you looked back down at your plate before looking up once more and scanning every face at the table. they stared at you expectantly.

“may i be excused?”

dear y/n,

i know we haven’t been on speaking terms and i’m sorry for that. i miss you so much. you are my best friend. your opinion means everything to me, but i hope you have tried to come to terms with my absence. it’s been over a year and neither of us have reached out to one another. that truly breaks my heart.

i’ve finished my training as a paratrooper. i’m sure you’ve never heard of that before. to put it simply, alongside the men i have trained with, i will be jumping out of airplanes with a parachute. it sounds terrifying, i know it does. however, i have trained with the best. you don’t need to worry.

i have met some amazing people during my training. it’s safe to say i’ve also met some insufferable individuals. there’s this guy named skip. he really became my best friend over the past year (of course no one could take your place). you would love him. he’s a great guy. super funny too.

my company consists of mostly good men. i don’t think i would ever say otherwise. they have to be extremely brave to want to jump out of an airplane. i have really gotten to know these men and i’m sure i’ve made bonds that will never break.

the beginning of my training took place in georgia. we ran up this mountain more times than i could even imagine. it was so painfully hot everyday. i don’t think i’d ever want to live there.

today i’m in a camp in new york. we leave in a couple days. we’re getting on a boat that’s heading over the atlantic ocean. i don’t know where we’re going or how long i’ll be gone. i’ve always wanted to visit europe, but not like this.

i hope you’re doing well. maybe you’ve graduated from school. maybe you have a great job. maybe you’re dating the best man you could find. maybe you have a kid. maybe you don’t have any of that. what a shame that’d be. you’re a real catch. you deserve anything and everything.

even if i don’t ever come home, i want you to live the kind of life that was always meant for you. find a new best friend. move on with your life. show everyone that you can’t be walked all over. don’t think that it’s all over because you won’t be seeing me again. in fifty years you could have everything you’ve ever worked for.

i miss you. i always will.

-don malarkey

dear y/n,

in about two days we will officially be entering the war. i’m terrified and i know i should be. i’m just trying to push through everything so that one day i will be able to come home.

there’s not much i’ll be able to say. i actually don’t know what to say. training has always been rough. they claim they want us to be the best. i secretly think they just want to see us struggle.

there has been a lot of difficulty over the past couple of months. despite all of this, there’s been the usual shenanigan. skip and our other friend alex, have dragged into some odd situations. i’m glad they do though. these are some memories i’ll hold close to my heart forever.

i still miss you. you never responded to my last letter. unless you did . . . perhaps i never got your response. i hope you’re doing great.

is there anything knew happening in your life? did you graduate? have you met any peculiar people? have you met anyone who’s completely changed your life? do you still go to that diner? i know you loved it there. i miss the milkshakes so much. are you working at all? do you miss me?

i pray that you will be able to respond to me. i’ll never know what my last letter will be. this could be it.

i miss you. i always will.

-don malarkey

dear y/n,

i still haven’t gotten a response. i hope you’re okay. i don’t know if you’re even alive. how horrible would it be if i was the one fighting in the war and you’re the one who’s passed?

this war is brutal. it’s horrible actually. i cant even explain how bad it is because those words aren’t even in my vocabulary. i’ve seen some really horrifying things. things that would make your hair curl.

we’ve lost people. good people. men with lives and families back home. people just like me. it just makes me realize that my days are potentially numbered.

i ended up getting into some trouble actually. a friend of mine and i had stolen a motorcycle. we went through the country in england and honestly i haven’t had that much fun in a long time. it was nice to let go and appreciate everything that was happening at the time.

if you are reading this, please respond. i need to know that you don’t hate me. or if you do hate me, i still want to know. i haven’t gotten many letters but every single one i get, i hope it’s you.

how are you? i really want to know. it’s been so long. are you okay? i miss you. i haven’t spoke to you in over two years. i’m sure something has happened in your life. something that has changed you completely. please respond, y/n.

i miss you. i always will.

-don malarkey

“hey mal!” skip called over to his friend who sat beside george luz.

don looked up curiously. skip, alex, john julian, and babe heffron stared back. they all shook furiously from the harsh weather of bastogne. taking the piss of conversations during their sad mealtimes were the only way to get by.

“who’s that girl back home that you’re constantly chattering on about?” skip asked.

“girl back home?” george echoed skip with raised eyebrows. “why have i never heard about this?”

don rolled his eyes as everyone looked at him with curious eyes. he had only ever spoke about you to skip. he hadn’t even told alex about you. i mean, what was there to say? you were only friends.

“i gotta hear this.” joe toye leaned forward to listen in.

“there’s this girl back home and she’s . . . she’s everything. you know, we were best friends. we grew up together. she hasn’t spoken to me since i told her i was leaving though. and – and i used to think i wouldn’t need her to just exist, but now without her . . . i feel like there’s a part of me missing. it’s horrible. she’s my best friend, y’know.” don explained. beside him george burst into uncontrollable laughter. skip and alex shared a look before cracking up as well. julian looked at babe with a confused expression. “why are you laughing at me?”

“sounds like you are in love with her, my friend.” joe nodded. george took a moment to try and regain himself but he burst back into laughter a second later.

“there’s no way. i’ve known her my whole life. i just - i just miss her, that’s all.” don pushed george away. the man was all but laughing in his face.

don felt like he was folding back into himself and pulling away from his friends. he didn’t want to bring you up and then get laughed at for your friendship. you hadn’t even spoken in years.

“you said you haven’t spoken in years?” julian piped up. don nodded. “well, why not?”

“i don’t think she wanted to face the idea that i wouldn’t be around for a while. she was pretty hurt. called me a name i hadn’t heard in years. i don’t blame her.”

“oh, so she’s in love with you too?” joe suggested and don gave him an incredulous look.

“i strongly doubt that.”

“you never know until you tell her that you love her too.” julian said.

“what the hell do you know about love?” babe snorted at the replacement next to him.

“i just think it seems kind of obvious.” julian shrugged. “he can’t realize that he’s in love with her and she could be in love with him and doesn’t realize it either. if the both of them can’t come to terms with it then the other would never know. so, they’ll both be suffering while they watch the other move on with their lives. might as well tell her now.”

everyone blinked at julian. for being so young and virginal, he spoke very wisely about love. he had more of a mind than don did. perhaps he would confess to you . . .

y/n,

i’ve never felt more alone. skip & alex got hit. they’re my best friends. i don’t know what to do. please tell me you’ll still be there when i get home.

-don malarkey

don,

i’m sorry about your friends. i��ll be here.

-y/n

dear y/n,

the past couple of months and years even have been extremely difficult. the war has changed my life drastically. it’s put me through the ringer. i pray it hasn’t done the same for you.

everyday i anxiously await the announcement of the japanese surrender. i cannot tell you how exciting that news was. the war is finally over. after years of all the pain and suffering for millions of people. of course, there’s still tons of rebuilding that will need to be done and there’s still so much that needs to be change. all i want to do is come home.

i hope you’re waiting for me. if you haven’t already met someone and started growing a life for yourself, i’d love to go out with you. you’re always the only thing i can think about. which is not good in a war.

i love you. i have always loved you. you mean everything to me and it’s hurt the both of us knowing that neither of us had said it sooner.

i’m coming home soon. i promise. i’ll be home before you know it. please don’t forget about me.

i miss you. i always have.

-don malarkey

#band of brothers #hbo war #easy company #donald malarkey x reader #don malarkey #donald malarkey #donald malarkey imagine #band of brothers imagine

66 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers @southerngracela and @icanfeelastormbrewing

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

SSR Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were part of the Strategic Science Reserve, this was a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between 2 men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!” A voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.” He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck… he swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” a man down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and skirt as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders, hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” he nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits. “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” he paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers…”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was…5 days away!

“And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure.” He continued “An experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts…” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He headed down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark…”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” she shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am” he dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.”

“What’s with the Ma’am?” she frowned but Steve ignored her question. She frowned a little, cocking her head to one side “Are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh “Steve, look…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” she let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” he stopped dead.

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red.

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” He spoke quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do.”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” she looked at him “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite “I guess it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” feeling emboldened he asked his question hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid “I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” he snorted “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged but that means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Katie, I didn’t-” But even by the time he’d finished half his sentence, she’d turned on her heel and left “-mean it like that.” He finished a little lamely, watching her go. His hands dropped to his bony hips and he glanced at the floor, toeing the dirt slightly before he looked up and around. God he felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning, Steve had done 5 different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination. He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!” The drill Sergeant barked. Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged 10 or 15 yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

Finally Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years!” he shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking in his direction. She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

“Get away!” he yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him “Get back!”

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” someone said as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” he asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers…” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him. “With me.”

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations Steve… you’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the SSR lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” the surprise evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices “So that’s why you were there.”

Katie grinned “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark” he greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office. She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior “At ease Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over 14 hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says…” Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “There’s no time for contemplation.”

“There’s 14 hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers, because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like 5 days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” she asked him as they left the building “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last 10 minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point “He says, ‘You will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Thanks.” Steve said, frowning slightly “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered.

“No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” he reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning Steven.”

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk. “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” she looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” he repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.” Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just…well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” he asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez…” he snorted shaking his head as she laughed “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose “In that case I take it back.”

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’” she mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically who I am kinda got me through the door.” She said, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent 13 was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status…and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said…”she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “Dumbasses”

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward Steve?” she asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” he took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she gently moved towards him, closing the already small distance between them as Steve reached up, with a shaky right hand, his actions completely instinctual. He gently cupped her cheek as his lips found hers and he kissed her, tentatively at first before soon the kiss was as deep as it had been at the Expo. His spare hand balled into a fist by his side as he was unsure exactly what to do with it until he felt Katie’s fingers gently work his away from his palm and she pulled his left arm towards her. Following her lead, he tentatively pressed his palm onto her hip as she shifted her weight slightly, wrapping her arms round his neck. She pulled him closer, the kiss growing deeper and Steve couldn’t help the soft little whimper that rolled in his throat. As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as a not-entirely unwelcome surprise to Steve and he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” she asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” he swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” he licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his “Just run with it.”

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispered softly.

“Doll, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay Steve,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

“It’s okay…” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop…” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements be became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

He needn’t have worried, at his words Katie moaned brokenly and nodded and his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

“Wow…” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same. “You got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” she asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

#stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #katie stark #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #pre serum steve

92 notes · View notes

aethelar · 4 years

Text

This is a love story. Not the usual sort; it doesn’t end when they marry, and it doesn’t end when they divorce, and the they of it isn’t really important. What’s important is the he.

His name is Newt Scamander. He’s born small, loud, with wisps of curly hair that will darken to red-blonde when he’s older. He has an older brother who loves him, a mother who loves the idea of him, and a father who dotes on him when he remembers. It’s not a bad start.

Later, he gains a nanny. He calls her Ayah at first because that’s what his mother called her, but he learns, soon enough, that her name is Bhudi and she smiles when he uses it. He learns a lot from her, picking up new names and new words and new knowledge until his mother scolds him for the foreign accent that’s invading his speech.

They are in India. It’s 1902. His father works for the British Ministry and his mother ships exotic creatures back to England to grace the menageries of the rich and Bhudi shows him a feather and teaches him about the bird it came from. She speaks in Marathi because the Lady Scamander doesn’t like Newt learning English from her, and, privately, she thinks that if the Lady Scamander wants her son to speak like his parents then perhaps his parents should speak to him so he can learn.

At breakfast, Newt stumbles through asking Theseus to pass the dudha instead of the milk, and his father shakes his head and calls him cute. His mother purses her lips. She commands Newt to follow her that day, and the next, and for the rest of the week he trails her heels as she judges how many peacocks she can convince the Lord Malfoy to buy. They aren’t even magical, but they’re pretty, and because of this they are valuable.

Newt frowns at the little brown peahen that’s pecking at the dirt and has no pretty feathers to make her worth anything, and thinks they should be valuable anyway.

His mother finds she likes the idea of Newt trailing her more than the reality, much like she liked the idea of a pair of sons more than the time it took to raise them. He asks too many questions, he calls things by the wrong names, he has too many stories that distract her from her work. She gives him books instead, worthy and important books to improve his English, and a month later Newt sits at the breakfast table and recounts to Theseus how he’d rescued an “exhausted and dispirited monkey” from a rope snare trap.

“Exhausted and dispirited?” His father repeats, laughing. “Did you hear that, Theseus - your brother’s a scholar in the making!”

Newt doesn’t speak for the rest of the meal. He asks Bhudi what he did wrong, and she tells him that people who set traps for monkeys don’t understand why it’s important that they’re set free.

“But why?” Newt asks.

“If you love the monkey’s coat then you want it always in reach,” she says. “If you love the monkey, then you wait for it to come to you.”

“If I were a monkey,” Newt says, “I would rather be an ugly one with a coat no one liked. Then no one would trap me and ship me off to England, and I could stay here forever with you.”

Bhudi laughs and kisses his forehead, but when Newt is ten he has to leave her behind anyway.

He resents England, when he arrives. It’s cold, and the houses are too close and too dark. There are no peacocks, with grand feathered tails or otherwise. There are no monkeys. His grandmothers speak with accents he can’t understand, heavy with Gaelic undertones that his mother sniffs at and asks the children not to copy. But if he cannot talk to them, and his parents are busy, and Theseus is at boarding school, and Bhudi is in India - then who does Newt have left?

“Namaskar,” he says cautiously to the hippogriffs. “Hello. Um, Ha - halo?” The Gaelic is awkward in his mouth, copied from a greeting he wasn’t supposed to learn, and he ducks in his head in shame because he thinks he got it wrong.

The hippogriff huffs, and when he looks up, it’s ducked it’s head back in mimicry. It almost looks like it’s bowing. And when the next hippogriff comes up, curious, Newt bows again - and the hippogriff blinks in startled thought and then slowly, ponderously, bows back.

“Oh,” Newt says. It’s a new language. Not Marathi, not English, not Gaelic. Well, ok then. He can learn.

And he does. His mother calls the hippogriffs vicious beasts, best handled by experts, suited more to the war that’s brewing than to anything else. Their value, she tells him, is in their strength, their hooked beaks and their curving, deadly talons.

Newt bows and smiles with his mouth closed and straightens the feathers between their wing bones and curls up amongst their foals in the spring, and he tells them, “I’d think you were valuable even if you never fought in a war. I can’t imagine you’d want to. I don’t think you should have to.”

When he’s eleven, he goes to Hogwarts. When he comes back, the hippogriffs are gone, and new ones have taken their place. “These sorts of beasts aren’t pets,” his mother dismisses when he asks. “They’re property.”

And at school: “They’re dangerous.”

And when he’s expelled: “They’re illegal.”

And when he’s gone to war himself, too young, too scared, too short of other options because Theseus went to war and if Newt doesn’t follow him he has to go back home but home is in India with a woman who was more of a mother to him than the one he’s got - when he’s gone to war: “They’re weapons.”

He looks at the dragons and he rubs what poultices he can make into the scars that litter their sides, and he says, “I don’t love you for your fire. I’d wish you didn’t have it, except it’s yours, and if I love you for you then I should love your fire as well. I just wish people wouldn’t keep using you because of it.”

The dragons croon, low, gentle rumbles that they’d use to soothe a frightened hatchling. They bend their necks around him and quietly despair at the way his lack of scales leaves him vulnerable, and when he cries, they hold their wings out over him to shield him from the world.

“You aren’t weapons,” he tells them. “You’re dragons. War is not where dragons live.”

It’s not. War is where dragons die.

When peace is called, Theseus goes back to England, a hero, a leader, a different man than the one who first joined the fight. Newt goes to India, a runaway, expelled and disgraced and the same little boy he always was, loving the birds in the trees even if all he can see of them is the feathers they leave behind.

He doesn’t make it to India. He finds a niffler on the way, and then a bowtruckle; he finds a demiguise and an occamy nest and a nundu.

He calls the nundu Adelaide. She eats scones with clotted cream and jam. She learns his gestures and mimics them back to him, and she takes up all his sofa because she’s not a kitten any more. When Newt publishes a book about the creatures he’s found, someone edits her entry without asking him, and the rest of the wizarding world believe she’s a monster.

Later, he finds a little girl who’s so afraid of her magic it kills her. He finds a thunderbird, kept in chains and forced to bring rain to a patch of desert that should never have been settled to begin with. He takes the thunderbird home and on the way he finds an auror who was fired for doing the right thing, and her sister who’s chosen to wait tables because people are scared of the secrets she hears.

“Pickett,” he says in frustration, “I love you, and because I love you, I’m telling you that you’ll be happier in a tree. Because you’re a bowtruckle. You belong in trees.”

Pickett blows him a raspberry and continues arranging his curls until they look like a crown of flowers in the sun.

Newt calls him an impossible creature, and dutifully passes up a clip so Pickett can fix his work in place.

When he marries, he’s distracted. He’s known all his life what love is, and he knows that if you love something, it’s a careful balancing act. Addie wants to roam, but she always comes home in the end; Pickett wants to stay, and he cries if he’s left behind. Frank wanted to fly with his wings stretched out and his feet never touching the ground, and Dougal wants never to take his medicine again.

It’s difficult, persuading a demiguise to take his pills when he can see the future coming.

Some of these, he can give them. Some of these, because he loves them, he can’t. He says goodbye to Frank. He bargains a compromise with Pickett that won’t put the bowtruckle’s health at risk. He slips Dougal’s medicines into his food and forces himself not to react until at least an hour after they’ve been eaten. He cries when Addie calls for him, and he cries again after a week when she’s settled enough in her new home to stop.

“I miss her,” he admits to Bhudi, one afternoon in May when the jarul are flowering and he finally made it to India. “I checked on her, and she’s doing so well - I think she’s going to have cubs soon. But I miss her.”

“You love her,” Bhudi says, worn and wrinkled and beautiful. “It’s hard to let go of those we love, even if we have no choice. We think it should be enough to know that they’re happy, but sometimes we’re selfish, and that’s ok.” She smiles, and teases, “It’s nice when they come to visit, at least.”

“You were hard to find,” Newt defends. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Do you want to come?”

Bhudi laughs, and tells him to stop worrying about old women when he has something so important waiting in England.

“America,” Newt corrects. “And one thing being important doesn’t make anything else any less so.”

It’s still on his mind when he marries. In his vows, he promises to value this one person above everything else, to put them first, to love them before all others - and it sits wrong. He feels like he’s lying. How can he love one person more than all the dragons that died, more than the niffler that started his journey round the world, more than the monkey he once released from a rope snare trap? He knows so many languages now, even if some of them he lacks the tails to speak, but he doesn’t know how to explain the words that stick inside his throat.

“Newt,” they say, he says, she says, it doesn’t really matter who they are. “I know you. I know who I married. I love you, and you love me, and that’s enough.”

Is it? Because there’s a world, such a big world, with so many creatures and so many people and all of them are so deserving of love but Newt is just one person and how can he save them all how can he make people see how can he ever be enough -

He has a son. Galton Scamander. In time he has a grandson, Rolf Scamander, and in time after that two great grandsons, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

Addie has a son as well, and two daughters. They don’t have names - not that Newt can pronounce. They hang back warily but Addie prowls forwards and butts her head against his chest, and she still knows the gestures he taught her and the gesture she uses for him is the same as she taught her cubs to use for her.

The niffler has more children than he can keep up with. She dies, in the end, because she is small and nifflers don’t live that long, but she passed her thieving ways on to her children and Newt’s sugar spoons are never safe.

Pickett doesn’t die. His life is tied to his tree. Newt tried so hard to make him bond to an oak, a great sweeping elm that would live for centuries, even a yew that would grow and keep on growing - but Pickett is bound to the tree he chose because Newt would be sad without him and Pickett would rather he not be.

There are no hard words when Newt divorces. Only an apology and an acceptance and a thank you for twenty seven years, and if both of them cry they do it in separate rooms on separate siblings’ shoulders. It is enough, sometimes, to have twenty seven years of happiness and leave it there.

Newt doesn’t cry at Bhudi’s funeral. He wasn’t there, he didn’t know; but when he next goes to visit he is taken to the place her ashes were released, and her daughter hovers awkwardly and decides to leave him to it, and Newt walks until he finds a feather on the ground and tells it in his first language that he doesn’t know what he’s doing and he misses her and he’s trying so hard but he can’t -

He hears a monkey calling out in the darkness, and he stops. He breathes. Pickett crawls up to his shoulder and starts fussing with his hair. When he starts talking again, he tells her about the next book he’s writing, the dragon sanctuaries that are going to open soon, the changes he’s made to the way creatures are taught about at Hogwarts. He tells her about a friend of his who’s just retired from running a bakery, and his son who’s learnt to fly and gives Newt a heart attack every time he goes up on a broom. He tells her about the sunset he saw and the trees he found and the tracks in the forest that belong to something new. He tells her about the world, and everything he loves about it, until he runs out of voice and he tells her everything by saying nothing at all.

In 1997 when he is a hundred years old a boy called Harry Potter breaks out of Gringotts riding the back of a dragon. It’s a Ukranian Ironbelly, scarred from the war, and when it finds Newt it croons, low, gentle rumbles like it’d use to soothe a frightened hatchling.

He is old, now, and he doesn’t run around the world fighting battles for the creatures he loves. But the dragon - his dragon - he digs in his heels and he digs in his cane and he fights until she’s free, because he loves her, because he thought she was dead, because she is old like he is and she failed to guard a vault so she is of little value to the goblins but she’s worth so much more to him.

“She has to live in a sanctuary,” they caution him. “Dragons are too dangerous to be allowed to run wild.”

“And yet people can go where they please,” he retorts, run down and tired and still not ready to stop. But he is no longer naive enough to believe that a dragon without fire is safe from those who would use it; the sanctuary is as much for the dragon’s protection as for anyone else’s.

He takes a month to sort things out. He lives in the old house in Scotland, where his grandmothers used to teach him Gaelic on the sly and make him promise not to let his mother know. There are hippogriffs, and kelpies, and an ever growing hoard of nifflers - he makes arrangements for them all, as best he can.

In the autumn, he packs his life into a beaten up old suitcase, tells Pickett to hold on tight, and apparates to the sanctuary. The dragon lifts her wing and drapes it over him, and Newt rubs poultices into her old scars, and in the evenings the dragon keepers gather round the fires with mugs of whiskey-spiked tea and Newt teaches them how to identify birds from the feathers they leave.

He meets Lorcan and Lysander there, in the sanctuary. They are small, like he was once small, and they will grow to be curious, like he still is. Their mother believes in creatures she cannot see and loves them from the clues she finds, and Newt smiles and asks her name four times and doesn’t remember it and when she goes he looks at the cork necklace in bemusement and wonders why it seems important.

He dies in the spring. There are no jarul flowers, because he is not in India, but there are primrose, and crocus, and blue forget-me-nots - and between them tiny speedwells, close to the ground and small and easy to miss but no less valuable for it.

He leaves behind a dragon on the side of a mountain who can stretch her wings and fly, and a nundu on the open plains who can roam with her pride in tow. He leaves occamies and kelpies and demiguises and nifflers, he leaves the knowledge that hippogriffs bow to say hello and thunderbirds should never be forced to stay on the ground. He leaves children and grandchildren and great grandchildren, he leaves generations of students who are taught what it means to love something, he leaves a world that is still struggling and still in need of so much more - but that is, in a thousand tiny ways, so much brighter than it would have been without him.

He doesn’t leave Pickett. He is Pickett’s tree. Pickett will follow him wherever he goes, because without Pickett he will be sad, and Pickett loves him too much to allow it.

They bury him at the sanctuary, his ashes safe beneath the rock he used to lean his cane against, and the dragon keepers take up the job of rubbing poultices into the Ironbelly’s old scars. At his funeral they call him a hero and a fighter and a good man, and his brother wheels his way to the front and calls him an idiot boy who got expelled for caring too much and never learnt to stop.

A year after he died, a special edition of his first book is released. It lists the creatures he’d found up until that point in his life, and his notes about what he’d learnt - though the book is prefaced with a caution from his grandson that some of the information was now out of date, and that Newt’s later books refined and corrected a lot of his thoughts. Still, though, there’s something beautiful about the book, raw and unpolished, with no ministry classifications, and illustrations that are at times more enthusiastic than precise. The side notes give a glimpse into the life of the man who wrote it, cautions about nifflers and their attraction to cufflinks, and a winding diatribe on the frustrations of moulting season when the entire nest of occamies have taken residence in your bed.

Between the nifflers and the occamies there’s an entry for nundus. It remarks that they have no concept of how large they grow, that they believe themselves to be lapcats despite being significantly heavier than the owner of the lap in question, and worries that their fondness for scones and jam will do bad things to their teeth. The entry comes with a postscript saying that in the original printed version the ministry had decided nundus were too lethal to be so carelessly written of, and had replaced Newt’s text with one they felt more accurately represented the threat of so large and dangerous a beast.

“Dangerous?” the newest generation of magizoologists said, setting up habitats, warding off breeding grounds, relocating people to places they won’t disturb the latest litter of cubs. “Well, yes. It doesn’t make them any less worthy of being loved.”

#newt scamander #pickett #addie the nundu #i got some bad news today #writing this helped #long post #my writing

279 notes · View notes

new-sandrafilter · 4 years

Text

Timothée Chalamet and Eileen Atkins Interview - British Vogue May 2020

“Maybe your knuckles weren’t bleeding, but there was ice,” Timothée Chalamet tells Dame Eileen Atkins. He is recounting, with no small amount of awe, how he first came to hear of the legendary 85-year-old actor with whom he is about to appear at The Old Vic. It transpires that Oscar Isaac, Chalamet’s co-star in the upcoming blockbuster Dune, was at the receiving end of Atkins’ fist in Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood (all in the name of acting, of course). Chalamet was duly impressed.

“I gave him the worst time of his life,” says Atkins, bristling at the memory, before merrily launching into several candid, very dame-like stories from her time on set – “That was a nightmare movie. A nightmare.”

It is a Saturday afternoon in late February, and the two actors – one a titan of British theatre with an eight-decade career; the other, Hollywood’s most in-demand young leading man, with an insatiable Instagram following – have just finished being photographed together for Vogue. Chalamet, 24, in louche, low-slung denim and a white T-shirt, has folded his Bambi limbs into a chair next to Atkins, whose hawkish frame, in a navy jumper and jeans, belies her 85 years.

“Do you like being called Tim or Timothée or what?” Atkins asks in her warm but brisk RP, all trace of her Tottenham upbringing erased.

“Whatever works,” he replies in a bright American accent, that shock of chestnut hair falling into his eyes. “Anything.”

“So you won’t object to ‘darling’? I call everyone darling. I’m told I mustn’t say it these days.” He assures her he is fine with it: “It’s a rite of passage, being called darling by Dame Eileen Atkins.”

“You always, always, have to put the dame in, otherwise you can’t address me,” she jokes.

It’s good the two are getting all this sorted now. A couple of days after our interview they will begin rehearsals for a seven-week run of Amy Herzog’s play 4000 Miles, in which they star as a grandmother and grandson, each quietly dealing with their own grief. Chalamet takes on the role of Leo Joseph-Connell, a somewhat lost 21-year-old who experiences a tragedy while on a 4,000-mile-long cycle ride with his best friend. Atkins plays Vera Joseph, his widowed 91-year-old grandmother, upon whose Manhattan doorstep Leo unexpectedly arrives in the middle of the night, unsure of where else to go. What follows is a wonderful, and wonderfully witty, study in human relationships, a portrait of two generations with decades between them trying to make sense of the world.

Its stars, who’ve met twice previously, in New York last year, are still very much getting to know each other – and are confident in the appeal. “There are things like this play – hoping I don’t butcher it – where you can just sit back and go, ‘Oh, this is a delicious meal,’” says Chalamet. Atkins agrees. “I have a phrase in mind that I shouldn’t really say because it’s going to sound terrible in print.” Which is? “I find it a dear little play, a really dear little play. I think it should be very moving. But who knows? We might f**k it up.”

It’s unlikely. Atkins has been a regular on The Old Vic’s stage since the 1960s, going toe-to-toe with greats from Laurence Olivier to Alec Guinness, and fellow dames (and close friends) Maggie Smith and Judi Dench. Chalamet, meanwhile, is a relative novice, with only two professional plays under his belt. But since his turn as Elio in 2017’s Call Me by Your Name (for which he was Oscar-nominated), his celluloid rise has been meteoric. Roles in Lady Bird, Little Women, The King and Wes Anderson’s upcoming The French Dispatch have not only earned him the slightly fraught badge of “heart-throb”, but proved him to be among the most captivating actors of his generation.

He says he couldn’t resist the opportunity to come to the capital. “There was something exciting about doing a play that feels very New York in London,” Chalamet explains of taking on the part. He’s a diehard theatre fan, too, revealing he saw the six-and-a-half-hour epic The Inheritance – twice. “There are films like The Dark Knight or Punch-Drunk Love or Parasite that can give you a special feeling. But nothing will be like seeing Death of a Salesman on Broadway with Philip Seymour Hoffman or A Raisin in the Sun with Denzel Washington.”

Herzog’s writing particularly spoke to him. “Leo’s in a stasis that was very appealing to me,” he continues. “We find our crisis in moments of stasis, but there’s an irony to it when you’re young, because the law of the land would have you think that to be young is to be having fun, to be coming into your own. But as everyone at this age who’s going through it knows, it’s often a shitshow.”

It’s safe to say that, in casting terms, director Matthew Warchus, also artistic director of The Old Vic, has hit the jackpot. He first took the play to Atkins three years ago, but it was only towards the end of 2019 that Chalamet came on board. When it was announced, in December, that Hollywood’s heir apparent to Leonardo DiCaprio would be making his London stage debut, the news was met with a level of hysteria not usually associated with the 202-year-old theatre’s crowd.

“Oh, my friends have told me who the audience is,” Atkins chimes in when I ask who they think will be coming to see the show. “It’s 40 per cent girls who want to go to bed with Timothée, it’s 40 per cent men who want to go to bed with Timothée, and it’s 20 per cent my old faithfuls.” Is Chalamet prepared for the onslaught? “I think it will be 100 per cent Eileen’s faithfuls,” he demurs.

On the surface, they can seem quite the odd couple. Chalamet, raised in Manhattan by an American dancer-turned-realtor mother and French father, an in-house editor at the United Nations, may be living a breathless, nomadic movie-star life but there’s an iron core of Gen Z earnestness there. He arrives on set with minimal fuss, even deciding to wear the clothes he came in for one shot, before knocking out some push-ups, politely ordering an omelette and generally being divinely well-mannered.

He turns on the star power for the camera, though, and I can confirm it’s as dazzling up close as it is on the red carpet, where he has, famously, casually redrawn the rules for male dressing. From that Louis Vuitton sparkly bib at the 2018 Golden Globes, to a dove-grey satin Haider Ackermann tux at Venice last year, he’s a true fashion darling. Then, of course, there’s his dating life – from Lourdes Ciccone Leon to Lily-Rose Depp – that remains an endless source of fascination to millions worldwide. (All this, it must be said, is of significantly less interest to Dame Eileen.)

Atkins started dance lessons aged three, shortly before the start of the Second World War. By 12, she was performing professionally in pantomime, not far from where she grew up in north London, the youngest daughter in a working-class family. A fast-established theatre star, wider fame didn’t find her until late in life. Despite memorable turns in Upstairs, Downstairs and Gosford Park, it was the 2000 television hits Cranford and Doc Martin, when she was in her early seventies, that finally made her a household name. Today, she lives alone in west London, since her second husband, the TV and film producer Bill Shepherd, died in 2016. She has often spoken of being happily childless, and has zero time for razzmatazz.

And yet, despite their differences, the pair appear perfectly matched. They already have their grandmother-grandson dynamic down pat. Atkins does a fine line in mischievous eyebrow-raising, and at one point recites a limerick that is, honestly, so rude it almost makes her co-star blush. Chalamet, meanwhile, is politeness personified, still trying to work out his thoughts on various subjects, less inclined to give so much of himself away. There is a physical likeness, too, in their delicate features and fine bone structure. They share a naturally melancholic look, one that melts away when they laugh.

Their upcoming play, which premiered to rapturous reviews Off-Broadway in 2011, “about a block” from Chalamet’s high school, LaGuardia, could have been written for them. “Other than not being American, I’m very like the old woman,” says Atkins of the Pulitzer-shortlisted play. “I can’t be bothered to learn the internet.” If there’s one thing she won’t tolerate in rehearsals, it’s people on their phones. That’s the only thing that will “piss me off ”, she says, brusquely.

Ah, phones. Are they really the symbol of generational disconnect? “It’s easy to point to these things,” Chalamet says, tapping his phone on the table, “as the cause or the symptom, but I think my generation is a guinea pig generation of sorts. We’re figuring out the pros and cons and limits of technology.”

Equally, Atkins is keen to distance herself from some of the criticism levelled at her age group. “There’s a saying isn’t there: if you’re not very left wing when you’re young, you’re heartless. And if you’re not very right wing when you’re old, you’re foolish. I’m not political, but I’m not with this government I can assure you – and I’m not with Brexit. I wanted to wear a sweater saying ‘I did not vote Brexit’, because it was all old people who did. Not me, not me,” she snaps. “I went on the march.”

Both are in agreement that intergenerational friendships are too rare these days. “So. Important,” Chalamet says, hitting the table between each word. “There is so much to learn from people who have walked the path of life. That’s why I’m so looking forward to these next couple of months.”

Atkins is thoughtful on the matter. “I don’t miss the fact I don’t have children, but I do envy my friends who have grandchildren,” she says. “About five or six years ago I met a couple of young people – they are just about 30 this year – and, do you know, we go out together. And people immediately say to me, ‘Are these your grandchildren?’ And I say, ‘No.’ And they say, ‘Your godchildren?’ And I say, ‘No, they’re just friends.’ Everybody thinks there is something weird about all three of us. They just don’t get it. But the boy makes me laugh more than anybody and the girl is enchanting. I have more fun with them than I do with almost anybody else.”

I remind Atkins about her description of today’s youth as being overly serious. “I do call them the New Puritans, yes,” she says, before motioning to her young co-star. “He probably drinks like a fish.”

Chalamet, currently single, is remaining tight-lipped about plans for his new London life, and how many late-night manoeuvres in Soho or Peckham it may involve. “I’ve got friends here, which is nice. But I’m here for this – to be terrified at The Old Vic.”

Before we leave, there is a final thing to clear up – Atkins’ aforementioned limerick. “Do you know about the Colin Farrell situation?” Eileen asks Timothée. No, comes his reply. “Better get it over with now because someone will tell you,” she says, proceeding to explain how, when she was “69, about to be 70” and filming Ask the Dust with a 27-year-old Farrell, “he made a pass at me. He came to my hotel room. He was enchanting. I let him chat for two hours, thoroughly enjoying it, but no not that. He was very cross I didn’t.”

But then, she explains guiltily, she later told the story during “some stupid TV show” (Loose Women), where despite her best efforts at keeping Farrell’s identity secret, the internet did its thing and news got out. An apology to Farrell was required. “So I left a limerick on Colin’s phone…” she says. She clears her throat: “There once was a **** of a dame…” she begins, in her imitable theatrical timbre, before reeling off one of the filthiest rhymes I’ve ever heard.

There is a moment of stunned laughter. “Wow, that’s sincerely amazing,” comes Chalamet’s response, as Atkins finishes the verse. He gives her a solemn oath: “I promise I won’t hit on you.”

4000 Miles is at The Old Vic, SE1, from 6 April

#timmy #timothee chalamet #4000 miles #british vogue app #Eileen Atkins #my edit

276 notes · View notes

itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto · 4 years

Text

Cause baby you’re a firework.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is a bit of an angst heavy fic. Reader gets hurt on a case, and Spencer, her best friend worries he didn’t get the chance to admit his feelings. It has a fluffy ending!

Trigger warnings: Explosions, bombs, swearing, mentions of violence, blood, surgery details.

“So, my loves, bit of a heavy one for a Monday morning but there have been a series of explosions in Dallas, all big companies, 50 dead and counting.” Garcia said.

“That’s not as high as I thought it would be.” Emily says.

“Some have life threatening injuries.” J.J said as Garcia quickly went through the photos trying not to look at the horror of the blast and the injured victims.

“Why have we been called in baby girl?” Morgan asks

“The un-subs have been in disguise, a different one each time and seem to pose very professional so security doesn’t question them.” Garcia said, “We need to find them fast.”

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said closing his case file.

Everyone nods and grabs their go bags. “You okay Spence?” You ask your best friend

“Yeah, just these victims didn’t deserve this. No one deserves this.” Spencer says

“We know kid.” Rossi says to the 30 year old, “Let’s roll.”

On the plane

“Y/N, you used to be a bomb diffuser, didn’t you?” Hotch asked

“I did. Why?” You ask. Before the FBI you used to work dealing with this stuff every-day and have saved thousands of lives.

“Do you know what bomb this is?” Hotch asked showing you a photo of the last bomb used.

You look for your glasses before Spencer lends you his, as you have the same prescription, “Yeah, it’s a T148. It’s used mainly in Afghanistan and 3rd world countries where there are wars still going on. Small put powerful. Could kill anyone within a 10-mile radius.” You say handing Spencer his glasses back. “I’ve diffused a couple.”

“Y/N, how old are you?” Rossi asks, “I don’t like to ask women their ages, but you are very young.”

“I’m 24. I diffused one exactly like this when I worked for the MI5 in London. This bomb is poorly constructed though. The wiring is badly put together, probably explains Emily’s theory on why not as many people died in the buildings, only those about 2-3m from the bomb would have died and everyone else life-threatening injuries as J.J said earlier.” You say. “I’d say our un-subs are young, similar aged to me and doing this because they are being forced to for some reason such as their families being threatened.”

“How awful.” J.J says

“I’ve seen it before, it isn’t pleasant.” You say, not really keen on talking about your past but know the team wouldn’t ever judge you, or force you into saying something that made you uncomfortable but their facial expressions tell you they want to know what happened. “Last case I did in London, before transferring here, a family were held hostage in their own home and the un-sub wouldn’t let them go unless their son blew up their family home with them all inside. It was horrible.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked

“I ran into the house, and diffused the bomb, but the unsub found me stabbed me in my stomach and back multiple times just as I diffused it. He got shot dead outside, the next thing I remember is the family thanking me for saving them and the doctor saying I was in a coma for 7 days as I lost that much blood. One of the family members had the same blood type as me and donated the blood I needed as a way of thanking me for saving them or I would have died in surgery.” You say getting out of your chair, showing your scars on your stomach and back from where you got stabbed and had surgery.

“Shit.” Emily said.

“Did your family come to see you?” JJ asked

“I don’t have a family. I’m adopted and I don’t get on with my real family, or my adopted ones. I moved out when I was 18.” You shrug, not really bothered by it. “And before you all give me your condolences, I don’t need them. You are all my family now.” You smile as some turbulence occurs.

“Y/N are you okay to look at the diffused bombs when we arrive into Dallas?” Rossi asks you softly

“Yes, of course.” You say and get some sleep, but still dream about that day once a week and it keeps you up at night.

“How old was she when that happened?” Spencer asked, referring to the house bomb you just referred to.

“18.” Hotch said, “It’s in her file. She saved not just the family but the whole street as it was late at night.”

“Poor kid.” Rossi said as some turbulence hit the plane. “I didn’t realize she’d joined us when she was 18.”

“She really doesn’t act her age.” Morgan said, “When I was 24 I was doing stupid shit like getting drunk with my buddies and playing socker.”

“I didn’t know you were a bad flyer.” Spencer said noticing Rossi looking uncomfortable

“I’m not, I just hate turbulence.” Rossi said, holding onto his seat.

“You know turbulence very rarely causes planes to crash.” Spencer said looking up from his file.

“That does me absolutely no good at the moment. Thank you.” Rossi said through gritted teeth

“What we really need to worry about are microbursts - a sudden downburst of air associated with thunderstorms - but small craft like this one, if we hit one of those at the wrong altitude... Get pulverized.” Spencer said as he sipped his coffee.

“I beg of you to make him stop.” Rossi said to the rest of the team

“You can’t silence genius.” J.J chuckled

The team arrives into Dallas

“Wake up sleepy head.” Spencer smiled, gently waking you unaware you had the horrible dream again.

“Yeah.. Coming.” You say rubbing your eyes looking for your go bag.

“I got it.” Spencer said

“Thanks, and for lending me your glasses earlier.” You yawn.

“No problem.” Spencer smiled at his best friend.

You smile back as you get into the car and drive to the police station.

“Hi I’m J.J, these are my colleagues, Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Y/S/N and Dr Reid.” J.J said shaking his hand, “You must be detective Smith.”

Smith nods, “Sure am. Set y’all up a conference room with donuts and coffee.” He says in a British accent.

“Donuts and coffee? To what to we owe the pleasure of food?” Morgan said as Smith shrugged winking at you.

“You know him kiddo?” Rossi asked

“He was in the same foster home as me.” You sigh, he beat you up a few times and eventually you learnt to fight back telling Rossi what he did to you.

“Just remember you are so much better than him Y/N, you’re in the fucking FBI and he’s a lame detective.” Spencer said, “And you have a donut.” He smiled shoving it in your face which made you laugh.

“And I have a family, and a dork of a best friend.” You smile, trying to hide your crush on Spencer, unaware he feels the same and start to eat the donut.

The team deliver a profile

“Hotch, can I go to forensics and check out the old bombs?” You ask

“Yes, of course Y/N. Spencer, Morgan, go with Y/N.” Hotch said

“Road trip with two nerds, come on Hotch.” Morgan rolled his eyes

“Hey!” You and Spencer both say

“We’re not nerds, we’re limited edition weirdos.” You smile

At forensics, you are chatting to the lab assistant, making chat about things, unaware Spencer is getting jealous.

“Just ask her out pretty boy.” Morgan said sipping his coffee.

“No! I can’t… She’s too perfect. I bet she has a boyfriend.” Spencer said

“Hey love birds, so this bomb is the same as the others, the first was done perfectly, but the last one, less so. So, I’m thinking something happened to him or her, and the other two are now working alone.” You say to Morgan and Spencer

Spencer’s cheeks flush at the mentioning of the words ‘love birds’ and phones Hotch with your findings as Morgan phones Garcia.

“Has he asked her yet chocolate thunder?” Garcia asked

“Not yet Mama, soon hopefully.” Morgan chuckled

“Keep me posted my love.” Garcia giggled

“Will do baby girl. Bye.” Morgan laughed and hung up, as Spencer’s cheeks got redder.

A few days have passed, and the case isn’t going anywhere, there is little information and all DNA left at the scene has been too small to get a sample.

“Guys… I think I got something.” You say looking up from the computer you were reading from.

“What is it Y/N?” Hotch asked

“Big new building having a grand opening today, over 1000 people attending. This could be the next one.” You say.

“Let’s go.” Hotch told the team

In the car

“Hotch, if it comes to it, you realise I will want to find the bomb and diffuse it.” You say, feeling the tension in the car.

“Y/N, you can’t risk you own life again.” Morgan said

“1 for over 1000, I’d rather that than my family and all those people die.” You say bluntly.

“You can’t.” Emily says as Spencer nods agreeing with her.

“I will.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Hotch said as you arrive into the building.

Outside the building

“Prentiss, J.J, Morgan, you take the left side. Rossi, Reid, Y/S/N and I will take the left. Meet in the middle.” Hotch says as you all nod putting your vests on and holding your guns out ready.

“Ready?” Spencer asks you.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You say.

“FREEZE FBI!” You announce, noticing the un-subs who set the bomb to go off and run. “After them, left stairwell, 6th floor, going down.” You say, “I got this.”

“Y/N…” Spencer began

“Spencer, fucking go. I’m fine.” You say shooing him away.

Spencer nods, not really wanting to leave you and goes after the un-subs with the team.

“You forgot about one thing princess.” You suddenly hear behind you.

“Smith?” You say, recognising his voice. “What the fucking shit?”

“Never were the smart one was you…” He said stomping on your arm and you scream out in pain trying to grab your weapon as he stomps on your leg and starts to tut. “Oh Y/N… So helpless… So innocent… Never could take my punches…” He said as you quickly notice a gap and grab your weapon, as he stabs you in the chest. You take your chance, whilst screaming in pain and shoot him dead then quickly tell the team you are hurt and continue to work on the bomb.

30 seconds until it goes off.

You take some wires apart. 20 seconds left.

“Y/N!” You hear the team call your name.

“Up here!” You call back, as you manage to stop the bomb going off and collapse next to Smith, blood pouring out of your chest.

“Y/N… Breathe… You’re going to make it…” Spencer says scooping you up and putting pressure on the wound as you close your eyes. “You’re going to make it…” He says again as tears go down his cheeks as the paramedics arrive to take you to surgery. “I’m going with her.” Spencer tells Hotch who nods.

“Keep us posted.” Rossi says as Spencer just keeps his head down as Morgan tells Garcia what happened.

“Oh my baby… Please bring her home.” Was all that she managed to say.

You ended up having surgery.

“Dr Reid?” A doctor said coming out in scrubs full of blood.

“Yes.” Spencer says quickly getting up, he hasn’t left the hospital since you went in 5 hours ago, twice to have a stress cigarette and to get a coffee.

“She’s strong that girl. Her heart stopped beating in surgery, but she’s out now and she’s awake if you want to speak to her.” He says

Spencer nods and follows the doctor to your room as he tells the team the news.

“Oh thank God.” Garcia says, “Bring her dessert. She needs chocolate pudding.”

Spencer walks into your room. “Hey.” He says softly

“Hi pretty boy.” You smile.

“Nice to see your memory wasn’t affected.” Spencer says

“If I’d been stabbed 5cm closer. I’d be dead.” You say, “I think my bomb days are over.” You chuckle then wince noticing the stitches.

Spencer sits down. “Are you okay, besides the pain?” He asks giving you the chocolate pudding.

“Yeah, I mean, I got my best friend right here and my favourite pudding. Can’t complain.” You say smiling

“I was really worried for you.” Spencer said

“Me too.” You admit

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer asked biting his lip

“If it’s for a stress cigarette, I already know you have had one.” You say, “We have the same habits Dr Reid.”

“No.” Spencer laughed. “I like you Y/N. I love you actually, more than just you being my best friend… I have for the last few years… Would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked looking down.

You smile, cupping his face with your hands. “I’d love to, but maybe when I’m not wearing a hospital gown and we have an audience.” You say referring to the team all there, and Penelope on Skype, waving at you.

“Audience?” Spencer asks then clocks the team. “Fuckers.” He says as they all come in to hug you and bring you more pudding.

“She’ll be out tomorrow morning.” The doctor said

“Thank you Doctor.” You smile at him

“Don’t do that again Y/N.” Hotch whispered to you, you’re like the daughter he never had. “You saved 1000 people, and we caught the other two un-subs.”

“My bomb days are over.” You assure Hotch and make grabby hands for the pudding Spencer has started to eat.

“Hey pretty boy, better make sure pretty girl gets her pudding or she’ll put a bomb on it.” Morgan said as you all laugh.

“I love you guys.” You smile.

“The feeling is mutual.” Rossi smiled as they all left you and Spencer alone.

“Stay the night?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m not leaving you.” Spencer smiled kissing your cheek and holding your hand.

“I thought you had a thing with germs.” You say

“I make exceptions for my Mum and my date.” Spencer smiled, “Now get some rest.”

“As long as you don’t eat my pudding.” You say as you close your eyes getting the best nights sleep you have had in a long time.

“Deal.” Spencer whispers as he sings you your favourite song, Firework by Katy Perry.

'Cause baby, you're a firework

Come on, show 'em what you're worth

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you're a firework

Come on, let your colors burst

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Tag-list: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner , @gubler-me-up

Requests are open!

Let me know if you want to be on my tag-list!

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer x reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jj #Penelope garcia #my fics

36 notes · View notes