#i live for sam so heavy he truly represents us

[ultra-raging-ghost]

"LETS GO, DAPPERS BACK??? THATS ILL I NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT THE QSMP!!!!!" <- sam speaks for all of us <333

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The room where it happened. 10x03 and 15x18

(Sorry for the title, I had to.)

No one afaik has said anything about it yet but I have been mentally screaming about it since I saw the episode and you all need to scream with me about the room where the scene happened.

And also how the scene was filmed. At the beginning, while Dean says that he ruined everything because he’s full of anger and the only thing he knows is to kill, the chair is positioned between the two of them. In fact, it’s filmed in a way so that the chair is clearly visible and oddly (well, oddly only if you don’t know what it means) emphasized by the direction and how Jensen touches it and leans on it.

After Dean makes his hopeless speech, Dean walks in front of the chair (again, Jensen’s acting emphasizes the movement in relation to the chair)

so, when Cas confesses his feelings, the chair is no longer between them. Nothing is between them.

Many things happened in that room and multiple characters sat on that chair, but the most iconic and emotionally heavy thing that happened in that room, well, we all know it.

The chair represents Demon Dean and what that represented. The chair represents the trauma and the fear and the anger. The obstacles. It’s not a coincidence that when Dean expresses his feelings of self-loathing and hopelessness the chair stands between them, and when Cas tells Dean how he sees him and how he feels for him the chair isn’t between them anymore. Of course it’s not complete yet, but they have progressed, Dean has finally heard something he needed so badly to hear. The very thing he needed to hear. They’re on the path to healing.

The chair is there, of course, in the middle of the room. The elephant in the room except it’s not an elephant but a chair, I guess. But it’s empty and Dean is able to step in front of it and get closer to Cas and hear what Cas has to say.

The trauma is there, but it’s an empty chair. And it’s possible to step around it and get closer to love.

But I want to say something more about 10x03 and 15x18.

Compare these moments.

This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.

Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me - the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something - guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.

It’s you, Dean. It’s always been you. Death-defying, rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame. You are human disorder incarnate.

It’s almost like someone wrote the script for 15x18 with 10x03 open on his desk, right? Let’s continue.

There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.

Oh, I will bring him back.

In fact, your uh... guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been MIA for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new model: lean, mean, Dean.

Right.

You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just... tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since... [Dean laughs.] Forever. Or maybe... Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!

This isn’t my brother talking.

You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.

No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!

Well, then, we got nothin’.

Would you say that to Dad?

Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!

and

I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You’re destructive and you’re angry and you’re broken. You’re-you’re “daddy’s blunt instrument”."And you think that hate and anger, that’s-that’s what drives you. That’s who you are. It’s not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You’re the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.

Let’s also look at Cas in the episode

You say you’re fine, but you don’t... look fine.

It’s what the humans do. They say they’re fine. And even if I-I don’t look it, you say I look well, and that way, we avoid talking about something we can do nothing about.

Oh boi, we’ve gone so far from “we don’t speak about things we can’t do anything about”. (Well, he thinks he can’t do anything about his feelings for Dean, but still.)

Look at this line from Hannah

What about helping your friend? And sending the rogue angels back to Heaven? Your preference to die for your principles, it’s very noble, but it is meaningless.

Thank you, it hurts! It was never about principles. It was about love. And love is never meaningless. It’s the only thing that is not meaningless. It’s the only thing that really matters, and, in fact, the only thing that is truly real in the universe.

And of course the most important line in the episode:

What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.

Well... I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but... also such profound pain. This is easier.

Only humans can feel real joy, but also profound pain.

I always wondered since I took that burden, that curse, what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want... it’s something I know I can’t have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being... it’s in just saying it.

[...]

You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.

I’m fine.

To conclude this - of course, 10x03 was also one step of the big misunderstanding between Dean and Cas. Cas eventually leaves saying something vague about a famale companion that makes Dean think he’s leaving him for a woman that is more important than he is.

While one of the scenes with Crowley in hell subtly drops the other side of the misunderstanding - a demon tries to get in Crowley’s good graces by offering to be Dean’s replacement for him with these words:

I, too, love to party. And I do love the ladies. And the classic rock-and-roll. Most importantly, I could debauch by your side without being a personal embarrassment. 

That was to emphasize how those weren’t the relevant things about Dean that Crowley, or anyone, cared about. Thus, those aren’t the relevant things about Dean. Those are some things that are true about Dean, but that’s not Dean.

It’s been a very long journey, and we’re seeing the fruits of a very long work.

[clembian]

ok so since like. one person wants this I now have a legal obligation to finish it. here it is, the sleeping at last dsmp analysis post I've been hoarding for weeks.

(mars and five are from an analysis post I made the other day but we ignore it)

homesick by sleeping at last for c!clingyduo - I made the connection with this one the first time I heard it, it's just very c!clingyduo!! this song is, in it's barest form about the crushing weight of growing up. reminiscing on life before you realized the world isn't all it was cut out to be. here are some cool lyrics I think fit! (it was hard to pick)

"you spend your whole life, just to remember the sound; when the world was brighter, before we learned to dim it down."

"call it survival, call it the freedom of wills; where breath is borrowed, our compass needle stands still."

"when the world was flat, we dreamt of its edges.."

"cry wolf, cry mercy. cry the name of the one you were raised to believe; cry hard, cry yourself to sleep, cry a storm of tears if it helps you breathe"

they're just kids that were forced to grow up too quickly by the harsh world surrounding them. always involved in things so much bigger than them. is there really one person at fault or was this always meant to be their fate?

five by sleeping at last for c!tubbo - this song very much represents people who feel the need to understand everything, the investigators and the daydreamers. there are a few lyrics I think apply very well:

"I want to watch the universe expand. I want to break it into pieces small enough to understand, and put it all back together again in the quiet of my private collection"

"a white flag waves in the dark between my head and my heart. my armor falls apart, as if I could let myself be seen, even deeply known. like I was already brave enough to let go"

he feels like he needs to understand everything around him because that's his way of ensuring he's safe. that's how he protects the people he loves.

uneven odds by sleeping at last for c!sam and c!tommy - this is more about sam nook than c!sam himself but we also know that sam nook is a version of c!sam. (fuckin mitosis, shits wild innit) I think there's something very idyllic for a lot of us in seeing c!sam helping and supporting c!tommy in his recovery. (insert sparkly transition) lyric time!

"forgiveness is the lesson he cursed you to learn."

"as your guardian, I was instructed well, to make sense of god's love in these fires of hell."

"are you getting stronger or is time shifting weight?"

"no one expects you to understand, just to live what little life your mended heart can."

"for the weight of the world was placed on your shoulders that day."

"you're much too young now so I'll write these words down: darkness exists to make light truly count."

I think c!sam also blames himself quite a bit for everything that's happened to c!tommy. he knows he could've prevented it but c!sam also did something that no one else had ever done. something that was so desperately needed. he let c!tommy be a kid.

heirloom by sleeping at last for c!crimeboys - this song really fits with those two. for me it shows the mutual regret with each other. they care far too much to ever distance themselves, but the relationship is as harmful as it is comforting. (crowd chanting) lyric time!!!

"you try your hardest to leave the past alone. this crooked posture is all you’ve ever known. it is the consequence of living in between the weight of family and the pull of gravity"

"you are so much more than your father’s son. you are so much more than what I’ve become."

"it’s not your fault. no, it’s not your fault, I put this heavy heart in you."

"you remind me of who I could have been, had I been stronger and braver way back then."

"a million choices, though little on their own, become the heirloom of the heaviness we've known."

(im not a c!dadbur enthusiast I swear (lie)) c!crimeboys want so badly to improve. both improving themselves and their relationship with eachother, but they have no idea how to start, so their dynamic stays stagnant and dependant.

mars by sleeping at last for c!tommy - this tells the story of a young soldier who truly didn't know what he was signing up for. he was trying to protect the people he loved and he walked away alive, but at what cost? here's some lyrics I really like:

"we were full of life, we could barely hold it in. we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering."

"so we found our way back home, let our cuts and bruises heal. while a brand-new war began, one that no one else could feel."

"there is goodness in the heart of every broken man, who comes right up to the edge of losing everything he has."

he was so young and couldn't have known. he survived (for better or for worse) and now he has to learn how to survive the rest of his life.

(this post is a bit c!tommy centric but my mind is also c!tommy centric.)

mercury by sleeping at last for c!ranboo - specifically I thought this song was very interesting for not only his enderwalking, but for his self-discovery. his change from "I can't choose sides" to "I'll do what I need to do in order to protect my family" even if it's at the cost of his own well-being. that's what happens when you find people you love. (*car crash noises*) LYRIC TIME.

"rows of houses, sound asleep. only street lights notice me."

"I am desperate, if nothing else. in a holding pattern to find myself."

"i talk in circles, watch for signals. for a clue. how to feel different, how to feel new; like science fiction, bending truth"

"I know the further I go; the harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed, and somehow I've fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul."

"that somehow, all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life"

I honestly don't specialize in c!ranboo analysis, that's not really my strong suit, but I felt this song fit him quite nicely!

WELL. that was fun!! a nice combination of two things I really like! I might make another dsmp music analysis post at some point, cuz I've got a lot!! hope everything I was trying to say made sense ;-;

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[mhaccunoval]

i finallyyyy finished the explanations for my tlb playlistttt so come get yall juice

if you haven’t already seen my first (official) post about this silly little playlist then you are still in luck !!! here is the spotify and the youtube links !!! oh yeah also all of the songs are in chronological order (maybe not by month but definitely by year) because i had to be organized like that sbjhshsjbs

———

❥ title

i mean. there isn’t much to explain about it but sbjshbsjhs it’s based on sam’s line “you’re a creature of the night, michael!” of course but i made it plural because this playlist is sort of a. general boys / movie playlist, if that makes sense??? but yeahhhh they’re all littol creechers who love the night >:o]

———

❥ paint it, black — the rolling stones

so !!! i was kind of trying to relate it to the boys vampirism and. love of black clothes sbhsjbshjs but no. similar to the title, they. literally live in darkness because of not being able to go into the sun and because of the few lights in the lair but there’s also a sort of duality where being vampires in an internal darkness??? like. each of the boys takes heavy advantage of the benefits of being undead but i can’t imagine it’s without its faults outside of the lack of sunlight and such. i’m sure there’s a kind of uh. monster complex that follows it, especially with the way outsiders view them, which certainly fits with the song’s vibe of being washed with this sort of sensory overload to color and earning weird looks for it

———

❥ riders on the storm — the doors

first of all, there’s a giant ass jim morrison poster in the lair therefore the boys definitely listen to the doors (if not idolize jim) so jot that down. but also !!! it has very Them vibes !!! i think the storm effects definitely relate to boys in how storms create a darkness that is soothing in its own way, and comes on strong, just like the boys’ presence. and. technically they Are killers on the road that Will kill a sweet family sbhjsbshjsb but no most of all the !!! “into this house we’re born // into this world we’re thrown” and !!! the found family that the boys have going. like, if you look at. vampirism as the house they have LITERALLY been born into it and been thrown into a whole new world, depending on each other for comfort and pleasure !!! oh also. they ride motorcycles so they’re also literal riders sbhjsbshjs (fun fact, according to genius lyrics: apparently it was the last song jim recorded before he died a few weeks later 😳)

———

❥ love her madly — the doors

whole jim morrison poster and listening to the doors reasoning is sustained. HOWEVER for the rest of reasoning… perhaps it’s more straight up 95060 than anything but sbhsjbsshj the whole woman walking in and out of the audience’s life is very symbolic of michael being in and out with the boys, never really deciding whether he wants to fully join them and straining. all of his relationships with that indecision and sitting on the picket fence (those who sit on the picket fence are impaled by it). although, it could also be partly symbolic of that indecision, as he does find Some charm in the boys’ lifestyle and keeps finding himself drawn back enough to even consider partaking in it. also, if you wanna go the parko route, paul loves marko madly enough to go after the frog bros personally for killing him <3

———

❥ walk this way — aerosmith

i am. blanking on how to tie it in other than being on the movie’s soundtrack (yes i avoided it and people are strange until the very end of making the playlist, but one of the evils got me clearly— have always ADORED people are strange though). but. i guess you can make the case that the song is full of innuendos and some scenes, like the feeding scene, are lowkey horny sbsjhbshjsbs and YES it’s the aerosmith version instead of the run dmc one because. i prefer this one and it’s my silly little playlist <3

———

❥ the boys are back in town — thin lizzy

technically the boys never Left town but !!! *christopher walken voice* Boys !!! them cast ARE crazy and they’re ALWAYS dressed to kill, ready to spill some blood and pick a fight !!! yeah no it’s just a very fun song that i think really works to. represent their crazy lifestyle and infamy around town due to causing trouble !!! and you can almost say that in this scenario star is the girl who used to dance a lot and slapped the shit out of someone <3 just girlboss moments <3

———

❥ xanadu — rush

hehehe… this started as the. desire to add more rush to the playlist for my own amusement but the more times i listen to it, the more i’m like “!!! it actually fits”… like. xanadu here is meant to a sort of utopia that’s long searched for, partly BECAUSE of the promise of immortality which !!! the boys have (unless. harmed in one of the ways at the end of the movie) because of their vampirism. like even if we don’t know the exact reasons they got turned, they all still, mostly indirectly probably, sought out that same principle. And the dining on honeydew and drinking the milk of ‘paradise’ is similar to their thrill-seeking tendencies and general enjoyment of being unable to die, leaving them to enjoy their undead lives to the fullest. not to mention, in [b part 2] (as genius refers to it) there’s talk of many, many years passing and waiting for the world to end, which we know there’s been quite a few years in between the boys getting turned and the movie, as well as i’m sure they sit back and wait on Some apocalypse, if not just to watch the world burn. in writing this, i’ve ALSO realized how it can be considered very Michael; he didn’t exactly seek this life out but he found it and indulged, only to be that “mad immortal man” towards the end of the song

———

❥ runnin’ with the devil — van halen

i just van halen is neat sbjshbsjsh and would definitely be something the boys would actually listen to hsjbshjsb i don’t Necessarily think vampires are in any way tied to the devil but. here it’d be more like a metaphor of “taking a walk on the wild side” if you wanna call it that; also, they all truly live their lives like there’s no tomorrow (not that they have to worry about death until the very end), have stolen a lot of things just to get by (probably in life AND death), don’t bode well with the ‘simple’ life (likely including the idea of a nuclear family like max proposed) because of it’s lack of pleasures, and don’t exactly have any “love [that] you’d call real” unless you read into the subtext 

———

❥ hot blooded — foreigner

originally this was going to be another joke about the. lowkey horniness of the boys and the movie as a whole but i’ve realized in writing these explanations thus far and rereading the lyrics that it’s. it’s just michael-centric sbshjsbsh sam is “at the mercy of his sex glands” and so is the audience of both the movie and the song sbhsjbshsj like. michael finds himself attracted to star immediately and tries for two secret rendezvouses, with only one working, and. can be said that he also finds a fever running within him when he’s around david and the boys sbhjsbshjs i just 🙈

———

❥ renegade — styx

renegade is my favorite styx song so i just said “fuck it” and added it sbshjsbshj but !!! you can say that, again, the boys live their lives on the wild side and. probably commit enough crimes to warrant dozens of sentences, some that would lead to death row (like, ya know, the. manslaughter) but they manage to get away unscathed. And the law man serving as an allegory to all of the people, including the frogs and grandpa, that want them dead for being vampires, with the bounty to be rewarded being the ridding of their trouble from santa carla

———

❥ big shot — billy joel

mikey :o) … ok yeah he isn’t the. silver spoon in hand (nose) type but he’s LITERALLY the type to open his mouth and get himself deep in enough shit that a fight breaks out, potentially bloodied his eyes, nose, and/or fists. i don’t have much of an explanation outside of he is a himbo jock who pulled a “i didn’t know how to talk to my crush so i wrote a note telling them to get out of my school” except he said it with his fist instead of his mouth sbjshbshsj

———

❥ boys don’t cry — the cure

pretty sure this is one of the ones i stole off of shovel (@/iswearimavamp) sbshjbshjs but i do love this song in a general sense too. in regards to the movie, like. none of the guys. obsess over masculinity or anything— and both david AND michael cry at different points— so that’s not necessarily an issue. but, there *is* still a lot of hurt and stepping on toes in many of the relationships in the film that can be stretched to fit, i would think sbjhsbshjs

———

❥ highway to hell — ac/dc

this and back in black were some of the last two i put on here because i. wanted to make an ‘even’ 35 sbsjhsbshjs BUT, like with runnin’ with the devil, it’s about a devilish lack of care for one’s own life or the “status of their soul” and just doing what feels right or like the most fun, no matter if it lands them in hell or not. and !!! “my friends are gonna be there too” fits with the friendship within the boys’ found family and how they’ll all always be together, no matter what !!!

———

❥ back in black — ac/dc 

i can’t really think of an explanation that differs from highway to hell so just reread the above sbsjhsbsh

———

❥ witch hunt — rush

OK !!! this is the song i’m the MOST excited to explain !!! right off the bat, moving pictures as a whole is an IMMACULATE album, absolutely love it. right so !!! this song literally SOUNDS like it belongs on the movie soundtrack; it has the same overtones and sounds as cry little sister and it’s just !!! and with the title, a witch hunt is BASICALLY what sam + the frogs went on in search of the lose boys, relying on little else but hearsay and catching glimpses at what was happening to michael, “confident that their ways are best” and moving along like a mob of three to get to the bottom of it. “features distorted in the flickering light // faces are twisted and grotesque” is very reminiscent of the faces the lost boys pull when they’re about to attack, and “they say there are strangers who threaten us” is symbolic of them being outsiders/outcasts that make everyone uncomfortable, even if You aren’t going to be their next victim. “the righteous rise with burning eyes” AND “quick to judge, quick to anger // slow to understand // ignorance and prejudice // and fear walk hand in hand” can apply to any number of characters, particularly the mains who are all pitted against each other, the humans fighting for their lives and the vampires fighting for their Right to live, neither taking into consideration the other’s perspective. i just… ADORE this song…

———

❥ red barchetta — rush 

this one was mainly just because of the car that grandpa keeps in the barn and both sam and michael’s fascination with it sbhjsbsshj and just to get more rush on here shjsbshjsbsh

———

❥ maneater — hall & oates

one of the first songs to hit the playlist !!! because the boys eat people !!! they’re the lean and hungry type that only come out at night !!! they’ll be sitting with you but their eyes are on the door and if you want love from them, you won’t get very far !!! the beauty IS there but there are beasts inside that can rip your world apart !!! they’ll chew you up but also leave you begging for more :o)

———

❥ hungry like the wolf — duran duran

the second song to have gone on the playlist !!! the boys are always on the prowl for fresh meat (in both the food AND turning senses) and they come alive while on the hunt, blood no doubt rushing through their veins (assuming it still can) !!! and in the movie, michael is the one they’re after for the turning connotation, all wanting a taste of him for themselves !!!

———

❥ subdivisions — rush

this rush song actually went on before the others shbsjsbshj but !!! it still fits just as well (certainly better than red barchetta)… the movie all takes place on the fringes of the city, “in between the bright lights // and the far unlit unknown”, and while it’s not exactly in the suburbs, there’s still little comfort to soothe the restless dreams of youth. there IS a drawing like moths into the city, for both the emersons and the lost boys, which is what ends up bringing all of them together, although it starts are cruising for action just to feel the living night. and just !!! NOBODY fits in !!! if you take the movie title as them being Lost instead of an allusion to peter pan, then you get slapped with thinking about what actually makes them lost and how they don’t conform in any way, shape, or form to just about. anything. and !!! the emersons are new, which immediately puts them at a social disadvantage, but they Also don’t seem too terribly great at making new friends in general so !!! “nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone”!!! 

———

❥ abracadabra — steve miller band 

i just love this song for whatever reason. and i think the allusion to magic to very fitting for the hallucinations that david gives michael, putting a sort of magic spell on him if you want to look at it that way. not a lot of silk and satin going gone but plenty of leather and probably some lace in there somewhere ( ;o] ) … also michael DOES heat up like a burnin’ flame whenever his name is called and the situation with the boys just keeps going round and round with no exact end in sight, only the calling of desire 

———

❥ separate ways (worlds apart) — journey

you would think i would have more journey on here ??? because i love them ??? but instead i stole this off of shovel too ??? it’s fine. time to be back on the 95060 bullshit sbsjhbsjhs we all know david Really wants michael to join them but. michael is reluctant, so that hesitance sets them worlds apart from each other— as if they weren’t already— and there’s still love between them, or at least the bgeinning sparks of it, even if michael refuses to act on them and only keeps pushing david away 

———

❥ cum on feel the noize — quiet riot

just some boys loving to party <3 some boys with evil yet dirty minds, out of time singing, funny faces, and that have a lazy time <3 yeah no this is one they’d rock out to and someone would probably pull a muscle over because it’s just such a banger sbshjsbsjh

———

❥ rebel yell — billy idol 

Another stolen off of shovel sbjhsbsjhs also ever since it’s been pointed out to me that david looks like billy idol i’ve just been losing it a little sbhjsbshjs Anyway. they’d definitely idolize him to some degree, even if just for looks, and it certainly fits the way that they. most Definitely let out a rebel yell at the midnight hour if you know what i mean— *taken out by a sniper*

———

❥ every breath you take — the police

would to believe to know i took it from shovel (i swear the last three where i say that will be rock you like a hurricane, livin’ on a prayer, and cherry pie sbshjsbsh) BUT !!! the watching every move is yet another. david keeping watch over michael and uh yearning from afar moment, heart aching the longer he’s away and the longer he keeps up this game of not knowing what exactly he wants to do 

———

❥ handsome devil — the smiths

ok THIS one was lent to me by ej (@/maybe-strawberry-blue) sbshjbshjsbs and let me tell you. this song (especially when paired with this charming man) is Very homoerotic, aka perfect for this movie shbjsbshjsbs like what got me first was “let me get my hands // on your mammary glands” and just. thinking about trans parko sbhsjbshjs but also in general the. “and i would like to give you // what i think you’re asking for” and “a boy in the bush // is worth two in the hand” and just sbhjsbshjs Everything. fits the ambiguous homoeroticism. And i think the boys would listen to the smiths (will elaborate more in the other smiths song explanation)

———

❥ panama — van halen

i Told you all i think van halen is neat sbsjsshjb what can i say. the boys like fast moving vehicles, hard partying, and tender loving sbsjhsbhsj also forgot to mention that i think they’d all be :eyes: about pre-1985 david lee roth and i cannot blame

———

❥ rock you like hurricane — scorpions

third to last shovel snatch sbshjsbh Here you can replace any one of the boys with the animals mentioned, as they’re always hungry and need to feed… they come out scratching and ready to win, willing to rock anyone who gets in their way like a hurricane— including with lust, depending on the situation 

———

❥ livin’ on a prayer — bon jovi

i actually can’t even manage an explanation for this one either just because of the song’s plot and how greatly it differs the movie plot <3 however it will stay because shovel said one of the boys (i forget which) would listen to it and friendship is more powerful than my small brain <3

———

❥ the queen is dead — the smiths

rightttt so here’s the deal, buds and duds. something in my gut just tells me that david would pull a me and. listen to this entire album on repeat, particularly bigmouth strikes again and i know it’s over when in dramatics bshjsbsjh BUT to make a case for the title track itself, breaking into buckingham palce— or really any major building— with only a sponge and rusty wrench would ABSOLUTELY be an endeavor the boys would get up to And they’d all pale (worse than normal) about finding out they’re the descendant of some royal. “oh, has the world changed, or have i changed” and “life is very long, when you’re lonely” is quite fitting of their immortality, which i can only imagine would leave them questioning how the world has evolved and, although they have each other, i’m sure living forever still can get a Little lonely. And they’d certainly celebrate the death of a royal (because anarchy <3). mostly i’ve just been listening to this song on repeat for days sbhjsbshj but, i think it’s the most. generally related to all of the boys, whereas like. cemetry gates would be more solely 95060 

———

❥ need you tonight — inxs

my favorite inxs song… technically the 21st century Wasn’t yesterday when the movie came out nor when the song did sbhjsbshjs but there *is* a lot of sweating from desire and aiming to put that passion into use, very blatantly letting everyone know that sbjhsbshjs

———

❥ bad medicine — bon jovi

there’s just something so fun about this song… and while listening to it on the drive home, i was thinking about it from a 95060 perspective where. david’s a bit lovesick (hence the love like bad medicine) and the choir of voices in the bg, saying “that’s what you get for falling in love”, would be the other boys knowing he’s gotten himself in over his head over what was supposed to be a minor tease or a small fling (would be a real fun and poppy animatic i think)

———

❥ pour some sugar on me — def leppard

legitimately this started as a “haha what about my ‘what if the blood was kool-aid instead’ joke” and then i realized it was. a fair enough fit, especially with the feeding scene. except they’re actual vamps not just video vamps sbjhsbshjs anyway. sugar highs and red hot flames of passion for one another <3

———

❥ cherry pie — warrant

ok THIS is the last song i took from shovel and. my reasoning is pretty much the same as pour some sugar on me and. Friendship

———

❥ somebody told me — the killers

i wasn’t going to add any modern songs but. i thought it’d be funny if michael had had a girlfriend before leaving phoenix that looked a bit like david sbshjsbshj and then it only just added to angst sbhjsbshj

———

❥ you know what they do to guys like us in prison — mcr

i was reminded that vampires will never hurt you exists but. i went with my favorite mcr song instead because. vwnhy is more like ??? a vampire that fears themselves ??? so like. an edward cullen type ??? while ykwtdtgluip is more about the homoeroticism and community ??? i said what i said

———

❥ house of wolves — mcr

thank god this is the last song because i’m getting tired sbjshsjshb a little less homoeroticism, a little more general sinning and egotism <3

[lisamsedita]

From September 11 - December 30, The Alice Austen House will be showcasing The Photographer in the Garden exhibit.  Featured artists from the exhibit include, Sam Abell, Alice Austen, Mack Cohen, Stephen Gill, Lonnie Graham, Justine Kurland, Lori Nix, Bill Owens, Sheron Rupp, Collier Schorr, and Mike Slack.  The photographs are taken using natural lighting.  The natural lighting enhances the colors of botanical specimens of our earth.   Some things seem to be in their natural state while others look like they are cared for.   

The first Photograph I selected is by Collier Schorr.  This is the first image I saw when reviewing the exhibit, and I’m glad it was, because it caught my eye.  The colors of the flowers are what first stood out to me in this image.  The contrast between them gives the photo so much depth and makes it more interesting.  I really enjoyed the heavy exposure and saturation on the image to bring out the vibrant colors of the flowers.  What really stood out to me about this photograph, however, was the odd placement of the flowers.  The flowers look as if they were arranged, and appear to be floating.  I think it’s really interesting how the flowers appear to be floating but if you look a little deeper you notice they are being held up by what appears to be string or wire. All of these individual flowers are arranged in a specific design, over a beautiful field of grass, weeds and natural flowers.  If I were to dive deeper into this analysis, I would say the photographer purposely displayed the arranged flowers in front of the natural field, to show the importance of not only nature, but it’s caretaker, such as a gardener.  It is our society’s duty to take the natural resources our earth provides for us, care for them and turn them into something beautiful.  The second image, by Lonnie Graham, spoke to me as well.  There is an overwhelming amount of all different shades of green in this photograph.  The natural light shining in from the right side of the photo is lighting up the crops which gives them a bright green color, but when you look more toward the left side there is less exposure, which gives those leaves more shadows and makes the green appear darker.  Even the pots and watering cans are green which adds to the aspect of complementary colors.  This photograph represents taking what the earth provides for you.  The man in the photo appears to be tired, as he is leaning on what may be his shovel.  All of the plants next to him are neatly potted with fresh soil in them and the bed of crops are evenly lined up in a squared out section in this backyard.  I believe the this image is giving generally the same message and the last, however this photo actually captures the gardener, or caretaker.       

This exhibit revolves around capturing the natural beauty of the world which is nature.  Many photographers would use their own backyards for photographs because it was such easy access to beautiful scenes that often included “botanical specimens”, as stated in the exhibit description.  However, while these photographers are capturing the natural beauty of the world, it also shows the importance of the caretaker of this world's beauty.  When you look at these images of bright colored flowers, grass and plants everywhere, it makes you think that if we as humans who live on this planet, where we have access to all this beauty, do not take care of it, we will not be able to appreciate it for what it truly is.  I think this completely relates to society and how we all need to be a little bit of an environmentalist on this planet.  We are given the resources but we must choose what we do with them.  I think these photographs really send that strong message, because if these places in the pictures were not well kept and taken care of by people, the photos would look and feel much different.    

[chrysanthemumpink]

The politics of this show is what really bring Falcon & The Winter Solider. It’s talking heavy political themes like boarders, terroism, supremacy, and imperialism... and not doing a good job of it. All of those things are systematic issues in need of systematic address. But what FatWS does is take those systematic problems and makes them plot points channelled through individual people.

(Very Very long rant and description of what I mean + the stuff I wish had happened instead)

There’s a terroist/revolutionary organization called the Flag Smashers. And they want to return to a pre-return world that was borderless. (i think!) But truth be told, we don’t even know, or see, the political world that the Smashers invision. They say a world “pre-snap.” But what is that? There’s a little dialogue peppered in but the Marvel Universe hasn’t really explained what the world was like during the snap and after. So descriptors like “boarderless” & “together” seem like buzzwords rather than rallying cries.

But back to the flag smashers, there’s isn’t even a real organization here. Just Karli. The narrative *says* revolutionary groups but we only see a singular person. And this treats the systemstic things that she is forced to represent as a matter of personal will. Everyone has personal stakes.

And the reason the narrative does this is because they’re trying to do that thing where *everyone* has a point. On some level, you can sympathize with each character. Even John Walker can be sympathized with.

And it doesn’t work because systematic issues aren’t solved through sympathizing. No matter how much white ppl wish that it were so, systematic issues aren’t addressed through abstract concepts like forgiveness, love, or even pain. They are addressed through tangible legislation, reparations, organization, and implementation. But this is a superhero show. It’s Marvel. Everyone came to see lasers, guns and punches. ESPECIALLY since this is a Captain America tale. And that’s fine to an extent. But not like this & not with the political themes this show wants to deal with.

What the are doing is militarizing a social issue. As if the conflicts mentioned can be solved through industrial war fare. And ngl, stories of anarchists going too far will never truly be genuine in this context. All these stories of ppl going “too far,” just begs the question of who is doing anything at all.

ANYWAY, this is long. But Marvel has always suffered from bad villains. In the movies, you almost never know what it is that the villain actually wants. (Quick, Yellow Jacket was the villian in AntMan. Why? See!)

Even Thanos’s motivations were narratively flawed. It happens with most superhero things though because there has to be some dark concept about being Jesus or saving the whole entire world or man vs beast. In an attempt to be grand, villains and heroes become flat. And FATWS is doing the same by making the conflict largely political. People don’t represent political ideology, they exist within it as individuals. So I wish this show had dealt with these characters by letting them be individuals moving through the world & politics...not the world & politics moving through them

Like imagine how much more we could get if Karli was just a girl who randomly showed up one day as a super soilder and starts trying to murder people in an attempt to reduce the population. All because, in her mind, when half the world is gone... things were better. She surprisingly doesn’t kill anyone because Falcon manages to get through to her. He’s a Trauma Counselor. Karli is then taken into custody, but the real mystery is who is this girl? & how did she get the super serum?

And it turns out that she stole the serum with the group called the flag smashers. And this organization wants exactly what Karli wants...to reduce the population. But unlike Karli they are a collective rather than an individual. And they have a plan in place to create as much serum as possible so as to prepare an army of unstoppable force. Now Bucky & Sam have to find them, learn where they are getting this serum, and stop them.

But uh oh! Bucky breaks Karli out of prison because he knows what they want to do. The serum has been lost to the US government for years. But now they have Karli to experiment on & have an attempt to reverse engineer it. Bucky can’t let that happen & gets her out. So Sam & Bucky are kicked off the mission & are now fugitives on the run with a radicalized teen super girl. Not long after, though, they see a new Captain America has been crowned.

It pisses them off but what they don’t know is that John Walker desperately wants Karli back because he wants the super serum. He wants the power & will stop at nothing to get it.

Meanwhile we learn how the world has changed through Karli’s stories. We see what happened to those left behind. And in exchange, we see Sam’s perspective as a returned person, and Bucky’s perspective as a Super Soilder who should have never lived to see 2021, let alone all the extra shit. We can also explore how Bucky, unlike Cap, can’t go back and live the life he was supposed to live. And how Steve got to get a happy ending...and he was left behind.

They still need leads so they break Zemo out too. Sam says something along the lines of “i guess we’re just breaking everyone out of prison now.” And since Sam is back on the run, Shannon Carter shows up like “hey you’re back on the wanted list! Me too. Yay!”

Zemo & Shannon get them a few leads. And as Karli begins to open up, she reveals that she didn’t mean to try & kill all of those ppl. One minute she was fine & the next...she snapped. Like her body wasn’t hers. And now she has nightmares about what she did. Turns out the Flag Smashers have also discovered how to brainwash and control their soldiers like Bucky was. And they, more than likely, plan on doing this to all their soldiers.

Meanwhile the Dora Milaje show up for Zemo. We find out how Bucky was freed from control while in Wakanda. And its revealed that he also broke Zemo out because that was the only a way to have Wakanda come to him. He asks them to take Karli and help her, like they did him, but they say they can’t take any fugitives....not now.... (😢). But she also says Bucky can help, and so can “your partner.” And Falcon’s sitting on the step behind him. And to piss Bucky off, Falcon also has Zemo and throws him to the Dora Milaje. And one of them reminds him to save one of his Sister’s plates for her. And Bucky is like... “you know her???” Because why not.

I know i’m rambling but do you see how all of that instantly tightens the story and engages with all of the themes. With much better pacing and scope. And it still would give us space to explore the characters and the world.

[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

Death Stranding: A Love Letter

Death Stranding, we’ve been waiting for you for a long time and to be honest there were times where we thought, we’re never getting this game, it just isn’t going to happen. I had this game on pre-order for over 2 years. 2 YEARS! The expectation level was obviously very high, and from my perspective it firmly... delivers. 

WARNING - SPOILER ALERT - This is a review/breakdown by someone who’s finished the game, for people who have finished the game. You have been warned!

Death Stranding revels in it’s cinematic credentials constantly and with intense consistency. From panoramic mountainous vistas which you can control, to dazzling close ups of it’s digitally recreated stars, to just watching Sam go to his Private Room. It’s stunning and a testament to Kojima's cinematic knowledge with every shot. 

Not only does Death Stranding handle this beauty, and intricate world building and story telling with ease and grace; it’s concepts and emotional ideas (which I’ll go into more later) are translated so strongly that you can’t help but get swept up in it. This is the sort of experience that I’m used to getting from films, who embed this framework within their narratives so deeply, in a way it’s expected. Death Stranding hits you like a freight train. Through the power of the performances, the narrative and the fresh nature of the ideas it’s portraying. 

Death Stranding’s emotive credentials are set firmly in 2 scales, the more typical big stuff, saving the world, stopping the extinction, well trodden video game territory. But where it truly sets itself apart, embodied so perfectly when Sam walks away from Die-Hardman’s Inauguration speech, and sets to surprise is in how it handles what could be argued to be the smaller scale stuff. 

Sam’s emotional world is rich and powerful, from his Aphenphosmphobia to the fact that we see him openly weep and break down holding a crying child. This is a male lead in a video game, and as a woman I loved seeing Sam being so vulnerable, to the point where he’s physically naked in those shots (ssshhh, there are academic reasons too.) It’s fresh and poignant, and as a woman it gives me access to media rejecting the male gaze so completely. 

On the notion of the Male Gaze, there is some stuff to unpick about the game’s female characters, as much as I would have loved to have seen more, with some ethnic diversity also, it doesn’t subject it’s women to typical video game stereotypes. The creators of the network (whatever it’s true intentions) are all women, Amelie found the path through the country to place the terminals, with the hardware and software created by Mama and Lockne respectively. This network is recognized as the saviour of humanity, the only male input is Sam connecting the terminals with the Q-pid, a Q-pid created by Mama and Lockne. Fragile is the only character powerful enough to get Sam and all the other characters to where they need to go through her DOOMs. I think the shows opinion on Male Gaze is shown in the story, when Fragile is using Sam’s shower, and Sam moves to the glass, his intention is to see her timefall damaged skin, but Sam is punished for it by Fragile as he questions her motives, she’s aggressive and she puts him thoroughly in his place for it. I love love love the physical powerplay in this scene between them. 

Sam is reluctant, profoundly unhappy, arguably suicidal, and is convinced to do all of this purely to help save his friend. Sam is a constant reminder that there is so much more at play here, drilled home every time he flinches away or holds Lou in his hands. Although there is a world to save, it can be for nothing unless you save yourself too. Sam and Fragile’s final discussion brings this home. Before leaving to stop Amelie Sam is full of hope, but in losing Lou, he does a 180, he’s just a man getting to the next sun rise. Something I’m sure a lot of people can identify with. 

This narrative nuance is reflected in Cliff. Through the memories we’re shown a man just trying to save his child, not the world, not willing to sacrifice his child to be made into the activation code for a city, no matter the cause. He just wants to be a father and that is his driving force. Mads Mikkelsen was my gateway into this particular world, safe to say I have an intense soft spot for him. I can go on all damn day about how talented he is. He’s the best in the business, no one does what he can, no one else can give a performance that is so real and so raw but so full of fight. Mads can take the your most profound story line, otherworldly in it’s extreme, and he embeds it so firmly in the human experience, you’ll never be able to untangle that web. That is why his ability to do what he does can almost never be questioned. You let him get to the heart of your story and that is what he’ll do to it and that is why it works. Mads Mikkelsen could easily have been Higgs, based on early trailers we suspected he was Higgs, but he isn’t. Could not be further from it. 

Death Stranding’s narrative dichotomy in this way is resembled perfectly in the games two ‘Boss’ characters, Cliff and Higgs. Higgs represents the greater plan, the end of the world stuff, and Cliff the smaller scale human to human emotion. Sam must overcome both. 

Death Stranding has an even wider scope, an even wider message. Kojima hasn’t been shy about his message of connection being prominent and poignant in the current political climate, being from the UK I feel this so keenly, but the same is present in the US as well. Humanity driven further apart, through legislation, walls and boarders. You can see the potence of the message being translated through a video game, when alternate reality, video game violence and social media is being blamed for these things. It’s fighting back in a way. Death Stranding’s gameplay is full of positivity, from the signs that other players can leave you that replenish your stamina, make your BB happy, to the fact that if you knock a MULE out in water they have a neck float so they don’t drown and die. 

The lack of violence in this way and use of ‘non-lethal’ guns, which are described as such, were again refreshing. I’m not a first person shooter gamer, never have been, could not be less appealing to me if it tried. But Death Stranding doesn’t just have a gun aversion, to me it is explicitly anti-gun. Again another important message, particularly when the game is set in the US. One of my favourite moments in the whole game is Sam listening to Die-Hardman’s grovelling apology for his actions, his thoughts and his prayers, only for Sam to shove the gun Die-Hardman brought to the Beach back at him, warning him with disgust at his actions, by passing on the message, “that gun won’t work here” and walking away. I completed a video game without taking a single human life. It rejects the notion so fully and completely. You stop the extinction, save humanity, not with a gun but by hugging Amelie, reminding her about how valuable human life is, every human life. It’s not to be thrown away, you need to give it a chance to bloom.

In Death Stranding humanity is left cowering underground, separated by an invisible enemy in the form of BT’s, it has to learn to fight back, with literal blood, sweat and tears. If you couple the notion of the invisible enemy with Bring Me the Horizon’s ‘Ludens’ Lyrics:

Sticks and stones may break my bones but soon the sting will pass But names can dig so many graves, you won't know where to stand

I love this line. (BMTH wrote that song in 5 days to get it into the game in time, by the way!) As children we’re taught that names shouldn’t hurt us, but actually they do. In a time where the effects of racism, sexism, homophobia, all of this “name calling” are putting people in their actual graves, these lyrics should be heard more keenly. Political leaders put people in their graves with their words, through direct or indirect means. These words are the BTs of our world, invisible hands which destroy people.

Some of the criticisms of the game are based on elements of game play, like the deliveries you need to make, as slow and tiresome. Higgs himself addresses this asking whether you’re tired of the grind, begging for a “game over”? 

The game is not only acutely aware that perhaps trudging all over the US with vast cargo loads isn’t what you want to be doing, but it knows it’s what you need to do. And truly, in what way is that different from shooting your way through levels and scenarios to get to the end? Death Stranding makes you feel the sacrifice Sam is making and you experience that with him, every time you fall and drop your cargo, every time you stumble down a mountain side, every time you wreck your stamina bar climbing an incline. Video games can’t really make you feel what it’s like to kill an enemy soldier with an air strike, but hell it can make you feel frustrated at having to climb another mountain with a boat load of heavy gear. 

Death Stranding rejects the idea of a ‘game over’ and other video game staples in other ways, it mockingly calls Higgs and Cliffs narrative end “Boss fights” and when Deadman says that wiping Lou’s memories, her connection with Sam in order to make her work better than a piece of equipment is just a ‘do-over’ a reset, normal, Sam rejects that it’s not that simple and Norman’s performance brings that home acutely. It’s not just a game. 

From style, to message, to performance, to rejection of the Male Gaze, Death Stranding is an intense and beautiful game. It managed to hook me so thoroughly (as I’m sure you’ve been able to tell from my live tweeting/blogging) and I don’t imagine I’ll get the hook out of my heart for a while. It speaks to something higher and I love it for it.

Keep On Keeping On.

[hurlumerlu]

For the lotr asks ! 2 4 12 23 and 44 ? Hope you'll rest easier today 💜

♥♥♥♥

2 Which character do you connect with the most ?

Sam. Sam-Sam-Sam. Which is a bit ironic given that we have absolutely nothing in common and he arguably represents (at least in part) the wisdom of small country folks, a concept I am extremely sceptical of, and we could talk about the absolute-ness of his devotion to a man who is also his employer... but this is my tendency to over-analyse everything speaking. When it comes to surges of the heart I feel like this character and I are made of the same key words. (no idea what those words are, I felt like being dramatic)

4 Which scene always makes you cry ?

Well. It’s probably related to my first answer, right, but the very last lines of the book always very reliably get to me. You may have noticed that I love the word “bittersweetness” a lot but there is so much of it there, in the deep breath taken before speaking, in the simplicity of that sentence. It begs the question, I think, of how much of Sam is actually back, or perhaps begs the completely opposite (except not really) observation that Sam is back with more than what he had when he left, heavy with loss. There is this theme, in my favourite Tolkien’s works, that you can only ever come back different, and I don’t think it’s sad (quite the contrary), but it is a very overwhelming feeling. also the world of Lord of The Ring is so bereft of female characters that it was very important to me as a kid that Sam had, specifically, a good relationship with his daughter, and I think it’s also at play here, for me

12 What unpopular opinion do you have for the movie ?

The issue with that is that depending of which type of fan I’m hanging out with, what is considered an unpopular opinion vary greatly. So here’s an opinion, unpopular or not : if Jackson hadn’t felt the need to add unnecessary conflicts and slow-mo shots of people smiling or suffering to his movies, then we could have had the Hobbits going back to the Shire only to realize that their home hasn’t been untouched by war, and maybe no one else cares about those chapters but. I. Do. I do !

23 Who do you think is the most underrated character ?

Again, that greatly depends on who I’m talking to, I think. But I think people tend to be very unfair to Frodo, who a) is a very interesting character and b) gets through a lot, ok ? leave him alone. (also Frodo’s other Hobbit friend, the one who stays behind and whose name I shamefully can’t recall because I haven’t read those books in almost a decade, is a very good side-character and while I understand why he was cut from the movie I think he plays an important role in making the world deeper and more lived-in, and ultimately making the reader feel that things truly are at stakes. EDIT : that’s Fredegar Bolger)

44 Who is your favourite horse ?

Bill the poney, king among king. The fact that Tolkien takes the time to tell us he arrived safe and sound to Rivendell is the ultimate proof that the man knew what was truly important.

[nclkafilms]

The absurdity of fanaticism

(Review of ‘Jojo Rabbit’. Seen in Biffen Art Cinema, Aalborg on the 23rd of January 2020)

“Let everything happen to you, Beauty and terror, Just keep going, No feeling is final.” (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Taika Waititi received his commercial breakthrough with ‘Thor: Ragnarok’, which followed indie hits such as ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ and ‘Hunt for the Wilderpeople’. He is one of those directors with a very clear style and vision, and he continues with a unique style in his latest film: nazi satire and self-proclaimed anti-hate-film, ‘Jojo Rabbit’. As if the notion of making a comedy/satire about Nazi Germany was not controversial enough, it certainly raised some eyebrows when he cast himself, half maori and half jew, to star as Adolf Hitler. And ever since it premiered, ‘Jojo Rabbit’ has divided audiences and critics alike into more or less three groups: those, who are deeply offended by its lack of political correctness and comedic take on one of history’s most tragic events, those, who think it is not dangerous enough or does not expose the horrors of the holocaust enough, and, finally, those who has been charmed, entertained, provoked and moved by a perfectly balanced mix of slapstick humour and gut punching drama. I, myself, sit firmly in the third group - ‘Jojo Rabbit’ is a wonderful piece of filmmaking.

We follow 10-year-old Johannes Betzler, better known as Jojo, as he prepares for a weekend camp with the Hitler Jugend. We watch him as he proudly dresses up in his uniform before heiling his imaginary friend, Waititi’s Hitler, as if he was a sportsman preparing for a game before he ultimately shoots through town heiling at everyone to the tunes of the german version of The Beatles’ “I wanna hold your hand”, while we alternately see Jojo and b/w clips of Hitler being celebrated as a superstar complete with cheering girls and everything. A bizarre and weirdly entertaining opening scene that perfectly sets the tone of the film’s dark humour; nothing is sacred here. The story that follows is Jojo’s coming-of-age-story. A process that typically lasts years, but in the midst of a world war nothing is “typical”. Waititi manages to beautifully balance the naivety and blind-eyed fanaticism of young Jojo with the horrors and brutal reality of war as things start to spiral out of control for our main character from the moment he discovers a jewish girl hidden in the walls of his home. Where is her horns? Is she going to eat him? Why is his mum helping her? and what does it mean to love someone? Jojo is forced to discover the many feelings of life and following him on his journey is as hilarious and endearing as it is thought-provoking and tragic.

This is more than anything thanks to just 12-year-old debutant, Roman Griffin Davis, who is nothing short of a revelation as Jojo. The range that he shows in his portrayal of Jojo is simply spectacular. He truly has funny bones with both physical comedy and a great timing, but it is when the story gradually shifts from Wes Anderson-ish, bizarre, slapstick nazi satire to a much heavier and emotional war story that Griffin Davis really pulls the rug from under you. In the process of the film you both laugh at and with Jojo, you are shocked by him, you feel his excitement and loss, and most importantly you really care for him. This is, of course, down to Waititi’s screenplay and directing, but it would never have worked without Griffin Davis’ wonderful performance that really bodes well for his future.

In addition to him, the other actors also turn in some memorable performances. Scarlett Johansson is perfectly endearing as Jojo’s mother, Rosie, who has to raise him on her own, while hiding a jewish girl in the attic and manoeuvring through the hardships of war with a heavy heart from losing her daughter. The chemistry between Johansson and Griffin Davis is stunning and feels so natural that their mother-son-bond becomes one of the most heartwarming aspects of the film. Johansson shines just as much as Rosie shines as the film’s clearest ray of humanism and empathy. As Elsa, the hidden jewish girl, Thomasin McKenzie is fierce and strong with the inevitable vulnerability of an oppressed person hiding to save her own life. As such she represents all the jews who suffered from Holocaust while staying brave to save their own and loved ones’ lives. Just as with Rosie and Jojo, the chemistry between Elsa and Jojo is electric and it is an absolute delight to see how their relationship develops and becomes deeper and deeper the more they both get to see each other for what they see rather than what they have learned. As such they become the clearest symbol of the film’s obvious anti-hate, anti-prejudice moral.

In the other spectrum, Sam Rockwell, Alfie Allen and Rebel Wilson are all hilarious as absurd caricatures of Nazi officers blinded by their fanaticism and extremism. This is, of course, one of the film’s very divisive decisions; because the actions that they perform whether it be teaching children to shoot and use grenades or burning books and teaching lies about jews are obviously despicable - especially in the light of what happened during holocaust. So to turn this into something funny (and boy, is it hilarious) is a brave decision, but also a clever one. The things they do are so absurd that to simply show them as dreadful and horrible is sometimes too easy; showing the absurdity and making people laugh at it can be quite disarming and, frankly, relieving at times. Another example of this is Stephen Merchant’s unforgettable, yet short, cameo as Gestapo agent, Deertz, who is hilarious at first. You laugh at him only to find yourself on the edge of your seat seconds later as the tone shifts and the scene becomes immensely nerve-racking. Now Deertz’ absurd behaviour is intense and in no way funny. Waititi disarms you by exposing you to the hilarious absurdity of this character only to catch you off guard shortly after and hit you with reality. He does this in another simply devastating scene that stands as one of the single biggest gut punches that I have had in the cinema for a while; leaving me with my mouth wide open and a tear running from my eye.                 To round off the acting performances, Waititi’s own portrayal of Hitler never really becomes anything other than a funny sidenote that adds some interesting comments to the extremist thoughts roaming around Jojo’s head.  It’s funny and at times delightfully dark in its humour, but it - thankfully - never draws focus away from the other, much more interesting characters.

But let’s get back to this balance between the laughs and tears, because this is what lifts ‘Jojo Rabbit’ up as a stunning film experience. It works as a comedy/satire and it works as hard-hitting, thought-provoking drama. This is an insanely difficult balance to truly hit and only a few films manages it. ‘Jojo’ succeeds in being a hilarious comedy thanks, partly, to its well-written and delightfully politically incorrect screenplay by Waititi with so many great and memorable one-liners. But it is also because of its tight editing by Tom Eagles and brilliant score by Michael Giacchino, who supports the shifting nature of Jojo’s perspective through both joyful and more sorrowful compositions. As a drama it works - of course also thanks to the screenplay - because of a brilliant production design by Ra Vincent that often stands in great contrast to the absurd action unfolding in it. Finally, the costumes by Mayes C. Rubeo are simply delightful whether they are historically accurate or hilariously comedic as when Jojo roams the street as a robot gathering “metal for Hitler” or Rockwell and Allen take their final bow as some kind of absurd superhero devoid of all the human faults that they otherwise infuse their characters with.

And now let us return to the quote from the beginning of this review.

“Let everything happen to you, Beauty and terror, Just keep going, No feeling is final.”

This is not only a beautiful quote that gives us an important lesson on why not to give into hate and despair, it is also a quote that is mirrored in the film’s three main characters. Elsa remains hopeful and decent even when the entire world seems to hate her and want her dead. Rosie gives her son the love a mother should give despite him representing everything she fights against. And, finally, the film tells the story of how Jojo learns this lesson; to not be tempted by hate and the “easy exit” of jumping on the bandwagon, but to stay curious, to acknowledge love and to let it in. As such ‘Jojo Rabbit’ does not become “oh, that film that made fun of Hitler”. No, it becomes a film about the importance of experiencing and exploring the world around us. The importance of being curious and engaging with people despite our differences. Simply put: the importance of never forgetting love. It might not be in the absolute top of 2019 objectively, but personally, Jojo and Elsa danced their ways into my heart and my top 3 for 2019.

4,5/5

[onevisionanthem]

- New beginnings -

Pairing: Josh Kiszka + readear ( basically )

Content warnings: none at all, pure fluff 😍.

Words number: honestly I don’t remember it, haha! I’m sorry!

Writer’s space: It was 2013 when I wrote the last fiction of my brief “career” as a writer. But, as I read so many new and interesting fics here on tumblr I decided to start again writing. I had been helped by @satans-helper for grammar corrections ( English is not my first language, sorry) and little improvements to the story ( thank you babe 😘 ) and I had been supported by @loveandhappiness91 too ❤️❤️. Btw, I hope you’ll enjoy the story ( it’s not too long) and I thank everyone who will read it in advance ( comments are welcomed, as I’m writing another story and I need to know if I have to change or improve my style ). P.s. I also posted my version of Josh in this story ( the cutest period , to me ).

​A new year has finally begun.

Well, to be honest, I have been eagerly waiting for a new beginning since last summer--I really wished to change my life and do what I truly wanted. I needed to find a new job, rent or buy a little apartment where I could live, maybe in a new city entirely... Basically, what I was aspiring to do was to grow up and be independent. And what was the best way to say GOODBYE to the old me? Easy: throwing a party with the most important people in my life.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

​The party idea was a success and it really went wild. Josh and I, with his brothers, decided to spend New Year’s Eve together renting a chalet on the mountains of our hometown. We chose the best place in the world, as there was no one in the surroundings that could be annoyed by the loud music and, moreover, we were surrounded by a beautiful landscape. It would have been a better choice for a couple of lovebirds alone but, when I and Josh move, usually the others follow us. To me, it’s not a problem to be together with Josh’s family--I love them. But sometimes I wish I could spend more time alone with him.

I love to be in his arms and breathe at the same pace as him.

I love to look in his eyes and read in them how much he loves me.

I literally depend on his kisses, those kisses that take me to another dimension.

I truly love him.

​We really enjoy the company of each other, even if my boyfriend sometimes acts like a peacock. He really had the urge to be the centre of the attention in every situation and, for that characteristic, we all agree in giving him a nickname: The Peacock. And last night, our tiny peacock did his best to honour his funny name. He was the first to volunteer for the karaoke competition--but honestly, no one else volunteered for that game, knowing that the victory was impossible against Josh and for all the drinking games we invented. He won the silliest ones, too.

​After the stroke of midnight, Josh was so high that he was the only one who didn't understand what was happening. He laughed even for the most innocent things and, when he wasn’t involved in the conversations, he would fall asleep wherever he was standing or sitting. We took some funny photos of him while he was sleeping with his half-open mouth and I had even saved one on my phone as proof of this baby's behaviour.

​When it was almost impossible for Josh to stay awake at all, Danny and Jake carried him to our bedroom and laid him on the bed. He looked like a sack of potatoes, our cutie. I reached for him and kissed his forehead before leaving him sleeping and going again to the dining room where the party was still on fire.

…………………………………………………………………

​And so there we were--the day was almost dawning. The party went on until late and Josh and I were together, lying under the covers in our bed. As I couldn’t hear anything coming from the other rooms, I supposed that even Jake, Sam and Danny were still sleeping with their girlfriends and perhaps I was the only one awake in the entire building. Indeed, Josh was still struggling with his sleep and apparently he was losing his battle--he couldn’t keep his eyes opened despite me caressing his cheek.

​I looked at his face, his lips parted and, in that moment, he was truly the perfect representation of quietness. His hair was sprawled all over his cushion and he was hugging me so tight that I was not sure how long I would resist. His body was so warm that I was starting to sweat under my pyjamas. I needed to slip from his grip, even if I felt comfortable and safe in his arms.

​I succeeded in escaping from his grasp without annoying him and decided to go to the kitchen to make some hot coffee, seeing as how that was the best thing to drink after having spent the previous night only drinking alcohol. It would definitely help me find my focus again. While the coffee machine was getting ready I looked out of the window and saw that there was a beautiful rosy sky where the sun was appearing; even the snow on the top of the mountains was reflecting a light shade of pink from the sky.

​It was too beautiful not to be seen. We couldn’t miss it.

​So, once the coffee was ready, I almost ran in my room and I started to give Josh little kisses on his cheek to wake him up. At first, he tried to protest and tried to take me under the covers again but I managed to grab his arm and dragged him out of the bed.

​Still half asleep, Josh was heavy to carry around but, fortunately, to reach the porch we didn’t have to climb a mountain. Eventually, we made it to the door and Josh started to yell, “A thunderstorm? An earthquake? Do we need to hide somewhere?” and it was in situations like those that I started to think that he should completely avoid alcohol. The morning after he usually acted like a dumb-ass... but he also made me laugh like a fool.

​On the porch he finally stopped talking. He understood why I was so keen to go out of the chalet. He stood still and breathless at the view in front of him: the lake was reflecting the woods, the mountains and the sun were now appearing fully in the sky, brightening everything. He turned to me and he noticed that I had already arranged some covers on the rocking chair and took some hot coffee with me to drink together.

​We sat close to each other and pulled the covers over our chests while I gently leaned my head on his shoulder. We sipped our coffees in complete silence, enjoying the magnificence of the view in front of us. He slid his right hand on my thigh under the covers and kissed my forehead, still really quiet. I was sure that we were living what the adjective “peaceful” truly represented and, while Josh was completely captivated by what nature was showing us, I was focusing on other things.

​The soft light was giving Josh’s profile a delicate pearly shade making him look like marble. His lips were so full, his cheeks were gaining a bit of colour from the hot beverage and his eyelashes were so long... I was captivated by him. He noticed me looking at him and turned his face to me:

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?” he said, smirking.

I cupped his cheek with my right hand and leaned in to kiss him. Our lips melted together divinely and that was enough to make my heart beat faster than normal. His grip on my thigh became stronger and we pulled our lips apart but rested our foreheads together. I looked in his eyes and mimicked with my lips “I love you” before sinking my face next to his neck.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered in my ear and, leaving the empty mug on the table in front of him, he hugged me tightly while the sun reached out from the trees in front of the chalet.

********************************

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

Supernatural 15x20, Carry On -- Review

Alright, we’re at last here. I can’t believe it. And what a waste of time that episode was! It seems “the finale” did indeed keep to task with the rest of the season, in a season of “meh” episodes, the finale continued to be a “meh” episode. Actually, I can’t even really call this a finale. Last week’s episode was the finale, this episode was the epilogue, a very subpar fanfiction-esque epilogue. And I make the fanfiction comment with a very heavy heart. I love fan fiction, I love that we can continue the stories we love through fan fiction and sometimes, a lot of fanfiction can be better than its source material. But also, sometimes, fanfiction has a tendency to be one-note. Fanfictions have a tendency to focus and hone in on one aspect of the story and tell just THAT story and the epilogues in these fanfics usually reflect that. Very one-note, only give regard to the main thing they honed in on the story. And there’s nothing really wrong with that but the weight of the story does feel less and kind of empty, the story doesn’t feel fleshed out and so in the epilogue, you don’t really feel a sense of closure and that’s what this episode felt like...and the series finale for a legacy show like this shouldn’t feel like that. 

But let’s cease with the rambling and get on with this. There will probably be spoilers, So definitely if you haven’t seen the episode yet and you don’t want to be spoiled, skip this post. Although granted, I don’t know how you’re online reading this and also have somehow managed to avoid spoilers. Teach me your ways, please!

As I’m sure most of you are aware, the finale isn’t great. It’s not even really a particularly strong episode. I felt things watching it and even cried a couple of times but that’s because my sensitive ass will cry at anything even slightly tear-jerky. I definitely understand why a lot of the fandom doesn’t like this episode. But also unfortunately, I’m not too surprised that the episode turned out like this. Disappointed but not surprised. When you think about how networks operate, it makes sense. Though our fandom is big and vocal, all that matters to the CW execs is that people come back to the CW. Now granted, some of us may be forever turned off to the CW because of this incident but those numbers aren’t going to mean anything to the CW. Because as large as we are as a fandom, the general audience is much larger and that’s who the CW execs are trying to keep. The general audience, a lot of them aren’t going to be paying attention to the finer story beats, to the subtext, to the meta, to the foreshadowing. No, the general audience just wants something that’s mildly entertaining they can turn the tv onto while they cook dinner or wash the dishes or whatever. It hurts but this finale was not meant for the fandom. It was for the general audience. And if I take my fandom goggles off, I can see how this finale might be satisfying to the general audience who don’t really have too big of an investment. 

But also looking at this episode from a critical standpoint, I can also tell this episode  is empty, its lacking in emotion. And I say this as the girl that cried mid-way through this episode. Because while I was crying and I was sad for Sam but then I was also happy for Sam, even though I was crying through these moments, I also wasn’t feelaing anything beyond the base emotion of happiness for a character or sadness for a character. When a story makes me get emotional I’m crying because of all sorts of conflicting emotions and I’ll forever go back to those tear-jerker moments whenever I feel like I need a good cry -- Tommy’s death on Arrow, Jenna’s death in TVD, Fred’s death in Angel, the Season 2 finale of The 100. All of those things not only made me cry because I felt things for the characters but also because there was a story element that reverberated inside of me, something about it made me feel alive and glad to be alive so I could experience it. So while I was crying for Sam’s loss of Dean, while I was crying tears of happiness when Sam was finally living the life he always wanted, the story felt empty to me and I couldn’t truly be happy with what I was feeling. And when it comes right down to it, while this finale meets all the basic standards it needs to in order to be a finale, that’s all it does. There isn’t anything special about it. It makes callbacks to how it began, it has just enough nostalgia to get by and it creates an ending for the characters. But that’s all it does. It meets the bare minimum to be a finale and I”m disappointed in that. I haven’t been loving this show for a few seasons, really since season 12, but I still kept on hoping the show would pull itself together long enough for at least a memorable season finale. As bad as they were, I will still always remember the finales for Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother. Supernatural’s finale was so uninspired, I don’t even really care to remember it. 

But let’s talk about what happened in this finale. First, some good points. I liked that we did see Sam openly mourning Cas and Jack. My Sastiel heart lived for that. And I’m also very happy Sam was able to live the life he wanted. I’m also very happy that Cas is not still stuck in the Empty, however, I do admit that if he was broken out so easily, it really kind of detracts from the initial sacrifice he made for Jack and for Dean and Sam. 

Things that I did not like, that essentially things were just kind of the same as in Season 1. You know, Sam gets his apple pie life but I kind of wish there was a little more of spark to that kind of life. Like this was something we talked about my blog a long time ago about a possible endgame for Sam but let’s say the Winchesters did kind of open like an organization for hunting monsters. Like, Sam could handle the legal aspects of something like that. He could go to law school and he could represent victims that were put in tough situations because their bodies were possessed or their on the line for a crime they didn’t commit because no one believes that a monster killed their loved one. So I just kind of wish we had gotten kind of a catch to Sam living his apple pie life. Living that life, doing what he always wanted to do, but also still helping people the way that Sam feels he needs to help people. So I wish we’d kind of gotten something more along those lines. I also don’t like that it takes Dean actually dying for Sam to feel like he has Dean’s permission to finally live that life. At first, I was going to feel sorry for Dean for dying in such a dumb way, but screw that. Dean put all of his self-hatred and baggage and dragged Sam down with him and made Sam feel like crap for even dreaming about something different. So Dean, you and that rusty nail deserve each other. I don’t even want to ship you with Crowley anymore. The ship you deserve is with Rusty Nail. 

So uh, let’s talk about Dean now and the return of Jenny the Vampire. I  completely forgot she existed. But yeah, she was a thing but she’s so loosely connected to Dean and Dean’s character arc, it’s like, there’s a lot of other monsters that would make more sense for Dean to die at the hands of. Like in Season 7 I believe, when Dean killed Sam’s friend in front of her son and he told the son that when he gets older, feel free to come after Dean. That would make more sense and have a kind of literary weight to it. Dean’s death would’ve been the result of his own actions and decisions years prior when he killed that woman on a whim. Dean and Sam could’ve come back from the vampire nest, after dropping the boys off, maybe they stopped at gas station to get some food and as Dean is walking around the corner to a bathroom, that’s when the now grown kid pops up in front of him and as Dean has a flashback to the kid and what he did to that kid, the kid stabs him in the heart like Dean did to his mother. 

Now the two brothers ending up in heaven together and presumably spending eternity together, while this may be a wincest or bibros wet dream, to me, I don’t know, it kind of feels pathetic. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love my brothers and I absolutely would go to the ends of the earth for them and I will mourn their deaths, but I also don’t want to be defined by them. I don’t want to feel like they’re so intrinsically a part of me that I need them in order to be truly happy or completed. While it might be nice to see them when I go to heaven, I would hope that I had grown to a point that there are also other things to me that are important that I would like to experience in heaver, you know? Plus, this whole ending feels like a slap in the face for what the show is most well-known for: found family and “family don’t end in blood”. The finale basically says, yes, family does end in blood, my blood is my soulmate basically. And I don’t really like that. 

Let’s talk about Cas and I don’t even have to be a Destiel shipper to be angry about how Cas was treated. I understand what they did in 15x18, and it does make a certain amount of literary sense, but considering there was no sense of closure to the act and it really kind of falls flat. And it makes you think, “so if what Cas needed in order to be truly happy was to admit that he loved his family” well, didn’t he already do that back in season 12? So it just kind of makes 15x18 feel kind of pointless. Yes, 15x18 was something that needed to happen for Cas and it made literary sense but that was only the first part of what his ending needed to be. The second part of his ending was hearing it back. Not necessarily a love confession from Dean (you all know Destiel is a thing of the past for me, I don’t ship them anymore) but what Cas needed to hear back was that his family loved him. We know they loved him but his own insecurities stopped him from truly feeling and believing it. And that’s the part the show missed and that’s what makes 15x18 fall flat and it makes Cas’s character arc feel incomplete. 

And also, it’s really sad to think that Sam never got to say goodbye to Cas. That’s something that Sam must feel very unresolved about and why he just lets the guilt eat up at him about it. My Sastiel heart needs one more final SamCas heart to heart. 

But I think that’s all I got for this episode. What grade would I give this episode. A big solid F-...I ‘m just kidding. It wasn’t that bad but nor was it anything great either. As I mentioned, the finale did what it needed to in order tom meet the bare minimum requirements for a finale, so honestly, I’d probably give this episode a D+. It meets the standards but it also doesn’t execute them very well so I don’t feel comfortable giving it a C. 

[naruhearts]

14x13 First-Watch Thoughts: Dean Winchester, John Winchester and Destiel

Before I write a full proper review this weekend (and I plan to write a separate Sam post) (I’ll be missing other key details for sure) let me SCREAM about:

JOHN WINCHESTER FADING AWAY AT THE END OF THE EPISODE LIKE A GHOST INTO THE ETHER as the Winchesters said goodbye to him --> TPTB visually/narratively textualized his ghostly presence like we’ve seen in S13/S14 -- Ghost-Monster-Yeager-Michael epitomized figure. He loomed over Sam and Dean's lives (especially Dean's) as the core toxic remnant of their past that they internalized and which subsequently influenced them to live out their toxic life courses and crippled their healthy self-processes, yet John Winchester’s narrative cathartic (and redemptive) role was fulfilled during Season Who Am I 14.

DEAN: For the longest time I blamed Dad. I blamed Mom too. I was angry. [...]  But to be honest I don't know who that Dean Winchester is [re: letting ‘some other poor sons of bitches’ take Sam and Dean’s place if they were normal].

DEAN: I'm good with who I am.

x

Dean ACTUALLY used his words and disclosed the sources of his trauma and parental neglect *screams* He self-introspected during the dishwashing scene in the kitchen -- the Heart and Home -- by precisely doing what we expected/hoped for him (and Sam) to do: reflecting on their current lives in response to 2003!John Winchester’s resurrection and determining what really holds true value and worth...what holds more fulfilling love and true heart’s desires than a pearl ever could --> Found Family. DEAN, recalling that life is short, accepted his current respective life with Cas and Jack and stressed the self-fulfilling importance of why their lives turned out as such. What they went through since Mary died in 1983 moulded them into who they are today. HE ACCEPTS WHO HE IS!! Dean accepts who Sam is. Sam and Dean, as grown men, become the optimum versions of themselves where their physical, emotional and mental suffering was, of course, undeserved, but also ultimate self-cathartic blessings in disguise: it contributed to their both their psychological resistance and individual journeys towards self-actualization as they create interpersonal bonds with others outside themselves. THEY LET GO.

JOHN: I'm so proud of you boys. I love you both...so much.

x

THE LONG-WANTED AND LONG-OVERDUE PRIDE AND VERBALIZED LOVE FROM A FATHER WHO ABUSED HIS SONS FOR YEARS. He finally told Sam and Dean that he loved them. He asked for forgiveness, and they freely chose to give it, additionally permitting themselves to embrace cathartic closure. Now THAT is how you transform trauma into your self-motivational strength!! In particular, we knew *points at all the extensive John vs Dean meta* that Dean yearned to hear those direct words from John. He yearned for years. For Dean to hear it spill out of John’s actual lips -- to hear John verbalize how much he loves Dean, how he’s proud of the man he has become -- after everything Dean has done for him -- is sheer meta fulfillment executed in the most emotive way. Instead of watching his son die without fostering altruism e.g. 2x01 In My Time of Dying, we see John watching his son LIVE and grow -- exercising his agency, formulating decisions for himself, and finally discovering SELF-WORTHINESS. SELF-LOVE. SELF-ACCEPTANCE. John also told Dean that he “never meant for this. I guess I hoped that eventually you'll get yourself a normal life. A peaceful life. A family.” Well--

Dean told John he does in fact have a family, topped off with the smile of utter happiness on his face. 

He chose his own timeline in which Cas and Jack exist. He chose his Found Family.

x

It’s intriguing to note that, in the context of John hoping Dean would have “eventually” obtained a “normal life” --  a “family” -- for himself, if we go off SPN’s constantly-reiterated narrative differentiations between familial family (brothers) and intimate family (husbands, boyfriends, girlfriend) aka Love and...Love, the unsaid connotation of ROMANTIC family applies here, as @thetwistedwillow​ and I discussed. Sam is Dean’s family, but John isn’t referring to him.

John is referring to Dean getting himself an Apple Pie Life™ -- one that Dean initially tried with Lisa and Ben Braeden but couldn’t sustain; Dean seeking marital happiness outside The Life™ was NOT personally/characteristically feasible. It entailed burying vital truths about himself -- imprisoning his non-performativity -- as a broken man within a broad illusion of Want vs Need whom Lisa also tried and failed to fix...failed to make whole despite Dean once telling her that she comprised his happiness long ago.

Indeed, the present era of Season Cyclic 14 ushers in truth. 

Dean has a family with “someone who understands The Life™.”

This aforementioned Life™ -- regardless of it being full of pain, horror, and death -- offers Dean joy, security, and new beginnings. 

Cas and Jack, willingly choosing to incorporate themselves into The Life™, are the mirrors of freedom to Lisa and Ben’s jagged misfortunes. 

They accept who Dean is wholeheartedly. They lend him purpose, zeal, and love -- buckets of love. They are aware of his faults. They encourage his strengths. They represent his faith and his hope.

(Cas, more than anyone, is indelibly aware of Dean’s capabilities.)

In terms of communication, Dean told his brother Sam that he loves him in 14x11 [for attempting to find another way re: Michael]. He directly told his mother Mary that he loves her in 12x22. Tonight he finally told his father John that he loves him, too. ALL the emotional honesty and transparency, my friends!!

Who else is left for Dean to say such significant words to? WE JUST DON’T KNOW!

- - - - 

14x13 practically crossed off most of this + my entire SPN300 checklist!!!

- CHOSEN FAMILY VS FOUND FAMILY themes - S14 Dean encountering/hearing about the Castiel of Old—the Angel of the Lord who hasn’t yet built a trustful and ever-complex ten-year relationship with him - Sam finally rectifying and clarifying things with John as a grown man!! TPTB know what 14x13’s premise means for Mary Winchester and TFW’s characteristic arcs aka EMOTIONAL CHARACTER-DRIVEN NARRATIVES. They are facing their pasts and must subsequently introspect and FINALLY act upon their WANTS vs NEEDS. Bros (Dean the Emotional Hero of SPN in particular) may have wished John was alive, but is it worth losing Cas and Jack? - Is it worth losing the real Cas Dean knows? Worth replacing the angel who executed his own choice to Fall, embodied his newfound humanized principles and willingly became part of Dean’s life? - (And here the focal point of the Destiel-adjacent 14x13 narrative comes in) If John didn’t die, Dean’s life course progression towards self-actualization (with Cas as a key aspect of his psychological realizations; Dean and Cas as both each other’s offsets to healthy self-process) wouldn’t have happened. Losing Mary—losing John—ALLOWED Dean to, despite all the unfortunate circumstances, endure necessary pain in order to heal…to: A. release himself from the shackles of predeterminism, Brodependency, parental absenteeism, repression, toxic misemotionality, and trauma + eliminating the old perceptions of himself as a blunt tool: his father’s hammer and society’s hammer and B. embrace his reflection that he sees in the mirror of his identity - Is alive!John truly what Dean WANTS? What he NEEDS? Dean and Sam, confronted by personal ultimatum in terms of their individual relationships with John and the psychological states/growth stages his death left him in, must decide! - TL;DR character development - And, of course, proliferation of endgame Destiel in some way (not a BIG way yet, but building blocks) from this point onwards and subtext moving into its final pre-text phase as I hope/expect Dean to choose his reality with Cas

(I’m expanding on the last point in a bit!!)

I have LOTS of additional thoughts (tbh they’re all an incoherent jumble lol), but as of now I’d like to say that nothing else can surpass the heartwarming satisfaction that bloomed in my chest over the way Dabb and Glynn beautifully interweaved the narrative’s Family/Love/Forgiveness/Self themes into an episode full of amusing callbacks e.g. Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie (there were a LOT of easter eggs I tell you) and heavy-weighing characteristic ones e.g. Goodbye Stranger Destiel redux -- and oh my gosh, the Dean and Cas narrative callbacks we received tonight, where Dean couldn’t believe that OG Cas had NO recollection of him?!

I don’t know about you, but the romantic subtext smacked me in the face; the negative spaces and unsaid verbalizations were glaring. I was, quite frankly, thumping the table in excitement, because alongside the explicit and gorgeously done Lazarus Rising redux scene -- in a PIZZERIA no less *gestures at Cas = Pizza D/C bonding meta and romantic connotations* -- Sam and Dean confronting OG Cas depicted Dean and Cas' current relationship and dual growth reverting to zero in this AU.

It was a painful encapsulation of the unstable past vs healthy present. 

Castiel the Angel of the Lord was non-humanized and never saved Dean from Hell. Emotional detachment and warrior-obedient violence resurfaced as his characteristic markers.

x

Dean, whom Cas --  from the point of first contact in realtime canon -- forged a profound bond with (the bond that proliferated into an intrinsically complex underlying romance narrative which worldwide audiences have been devoutly privy to) was struck by harrowing shock here, and TPTB took intentional liberties to visually fixate on Dean. Sam, on the other hand, reacted via wariness, and he was placed in the periphery -- blurred out to juxtapose their varied emotions of brother and husband; one of these is, as per usual, not like the other.

x

Dean realizes the integral role Cas currently holds in his life -- how far they’ve come together, in that the Goodbye Stranger parallel scene between him and Cas has him begging for Cas to stop -- to no avail -- and my heart lurched awfully when Cas made no move to do so. Dean fails in breaking his personal Naomi bred-reminiscent Soldier coding because we all know this certain iteration of Cas never freely chose Humanity. 

He never Fell, never embodied the human principles of free will/autonomy and self-identity, never found kinship, and never fell in love with Dean. 

Keeping the above in mind, when the real Cas comes back to the bunker after the ever-palpable and necessary self-catharsis that occurred during his absence, TPTB’s narrative brings the episode’s thematic premise of WANT vs NEED full circle as Mary, Sam, and Dean witness his entrance.

Sam and Mary are awed after the temporal fracture ordeal they just experienced, but there lies, once again, a certain cinematographic focus on (12x19-reminiscent) Dean.

x

x

We observe Dean’s onscreen expression of raw appreciation and self-conviction in that he has realized, amongst the throes of meta-laden cathartic self-acceptance, that everything he encountered since childhood -- the good, bad, in-between -- was worth it. This current canon reality is his heart’s deepest desire. He accepts it. He WANTS it.

For Dean Winchester, a life without Cas is no life at all.

RATING: 10/10

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Where it’s darkest

As largely expected and basically announced, we’ve entered the “darkest” hour before the dawn, which from a viewing experience means that it’s Super Suffering Time. Which we love, as Supernatural fans. Watch Supernatural they said, it’s gonna be fun they said. You’re gonna suffer, but you’re gonna be happy about it...

Anyway. I guess it says a lot about my investment in Nick’s character that when Dabb tweeted "where it’s darkest...” I’d completely forgotten that it was literally a quote by Nick from the scene where he picked Lucifer over his wife... and many of you did too, don’t lie, because everyone rightfully went back to 11x20/11x21 (which was all over the current narrative, obviously, down to the copy of the amulet...) but I haven’t seen anyone being like, ah yes that’s what Nick said :p

I have been saying that Dabb is writing his turn at the themes that the previous showrunners explored through the Leviathan and Amara, and now not only we have the Shadow narrative and Cas’ deal, but even Lucifer in his Empty form is visually reminiscent of the Leviathan (and the red eyes over black remind me of the monsters in Purgatory). (Remember, the Gamble era tackled the same themes of depression and identity issues as the following ones, but slightly more confusedly or maybe without the “what’s subtlety” of her successors... it’s not a coincidence we’re still answering the question the Gamble era asked in s6 - what’s a soul - and playing with metaphors around the color black, shapelessness and emptiness.)

So, this is another turn of the spiral that corresponds to the Leviathan arc: which means stripping the characters of everything, stripping the characters of what makes them the most genuine, healthy and strong versions of themselves, to rebuild them again. While I don’t think we’re going to see Dean, Sam and Cas truly stripped of everything (but they’re going to lose a lot - they already have started losing things - and their bonds are going to be tested...), because that’s not the turn of the spiral we’re at at this point, but the “extreme” version of that narrative is obviously on Jack, their ultimate mirror, who has been struggling with what makes him... him, and has maybe lost that very thing.

And of course this episode had heavy callbacks to the Amara storyline, and in fact we’ve been multiple callbacks to the last few episodes of season 11. The very character Donatello has been recently reminding us of the reason of his soullessness (he was “activated” in 11x21 and Amara consumed his soul in 11x22). God is back at full-force into the narrative, although not in person yet... and the last moment of the episode is reminiscent of the last moment of season 11 (and there’s also a cliffhanger similar to Sam being shot, if you want). In fact, it’s the antithesis of it: at the end of Alpha And Omega (beginning and end... ouroboros... and the spiral goes and goes) Dean asks “Mom?” as she is brought back to life. Now Jack asks “Mary?” as...

We’re in the turn of the spiral that corresponds to the last portion of season 11. Not surprisingly, because season 11 could have been the end, was the end of the narrative crafted by Carver and that simply was added new elements to make the spiral go again instead of letting it arrive at a conclusion.

But it’s also an antithesis of the Amara narrative, because that was about the anger of the suppressed feminine principle, and it concluded with the revival of the original woman who was sacrificed to make the story (the show and the story the characters have been living) happen. Now we have the most annoying character in the history of ever, Nick, who is (irritatingly but aptly) such a strong example of the worst masculinity, who chose Lucifer over a dead wife so reminiscent of Mary when she died. We have Lucifer, who represents exactly the same brand of toxic masculinity and toxic fatherhood, in the imagery of the shapeless black, instead of Amara.

We will see how Chuck fits in this narrative. But remember - I mean, me versus your mom? That’s... that’s not even a choice. The masculine, paternal principle gets put in the past. The father goes and the mother stays. I don’t know what Mary’s fate will be specifically, but what she represents is going to stay. What John represents - from paternal neglect to a normative model of family - goes.

[mittensmorgul]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean for my ask to upset you.You're a terrific writer & I love your meta! For awhile, I've been having a hard time reconciling the show's original "humanity" theme with what's happening now. Jack's almost invincible & has God-like powers. He singlehandedly took care of Michael, Nick, Lucifer & is teaming up with 2 other supernatural heavy hitters. I like Jack but TFW's my jam. So I hope you're right that they'll still be important, even if they're not special with superpowers

It’s okay, I’m fine, really :D

I guess I’m just confused as to how the humanity themes aren’t still being well represented, considering 14.20. I mean... Dean, a human, literally snatched the guitar out of God’s hands and smashed it. He stood there, thinking there was literally no other choice but to kill both Jack and himself to save the world. After he spent more than half of s13 thinking HE needed to die or be locked in that box to contain Michael and save the world. But in the end, he literally stood up to God and said NO. No he would not destroy himself and Jack for Chuck.

(and then Chuck went ahead and killed Jack anyway)

Dean, a Human, has spent the entire season telling cosmic beings to shove it-- Michael, Billie (re: him getting in the Ma’lak box), Chuck himself. While Jack was human for a while and then finally bonded with Dean and became family to him.

But as I’ve been writing for a really, really long time, the A Plot, the defeating of the seasonal big bads, has long ceased to be the point of the show. I’ve written several things in the last few weeks about how it’s undeniably clear now that Dabb has been writing toward this endgame since he took over back in s11, and has been exploiting the show’s own spiral narrative to do it.

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184788264850/i-will-always-maintain-that-dabbs-finales-titles

here’s a post linked in the one above that I wrote right after 12.23 aired, pointing out the fact that watching this as if it was a plot-driven narrative would lead to frustration and like... missing the whole entire point...:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/160988290690/12-while-i-do-not-ask-this-to-be-negative-at

I mean, I’m sitting here watching 13.01 right now, which from the perspective of post 14.20 looks like a freaking bookend... in pretty much every way. Dean’s prayer to Chuck which goes unanswered (which feels like the complete opposite sentiment toward Chuck that Michael will express, the opposite of what Lucifer expressed), Sam begins to teach Jack how to Human, but also to help him understand his own powers.

All of this was supposed to stop after 11.23, after Dean found a peaceful reconciliation for the original divide of the universe. Chuck promised the world would be okay without him, but it wasn’t. The hits kept coming, and in 14.20, we learned WHY:

Chuck: Listen, you guys know me. I'm hands-off. I built the sandbox -- you play in it. You want to fight Leviathans? Cool. You got that. You want to go up against -- what was it? -- the "British Men of Letters"? Okay. Little weak, but okay. But when things get really bad, like the Apocalypse or the Other Apocalypse, that's when I have to step in.

This was still Chuck, watching his favorite show, watching his guys reenact his favorite story over and over again. We’ve complained for literal years about Lucifer being a one-note, boring Big Bad, because he was. Intentionally. People were disappointed in the whole Michael storyline, because it was never really made clear what his motivations were, or what his plans were outside of the completely nihilistic desire to break everything Chuck ever built. He sounded just like another tired rehash of Lucifer’s storyline since s12:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184740345285/im-watching-1207-on-the-tnt-loop-and-yeah

and see this for Dabb As Death, his chosen in-story avatar, the way Kripke was Chuck and Carver was Metatron:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184557290140/death-is-one-of-my-favorite-characters-in-the

Dabb literally introduced Billie in 11.02, singing O Death. He killed her in 12.09 and then leveled her up to the mantle of Death. That’s Dabb’s function in the writer’s room... started out as just another writer, stuck around paying very close attention to the characters, through every other showrunner’s tenure, and finally leveled up himself to showrunner where he is calling the shots, and will be the one to finally end the show. Well he’s already ended the long spiral of Chuck (Kripke’s) original story. Considering how long the loop has been looping, there was really only one way to stop it: narrative syzygy and the sudden dropping of the curtain in such a way that TFW can finally see the Big Narrative Spiral for what it is. For the complete Cosmic Runaround they’ve been put through over and over again for Chuck’s entertainment.

Big Bads from the Leviathan to the BMoL to Lucifer to Michael to Asmodeus to even Crowley sometimes, to the alternate universe’s apocalypse have all been rendered secondary to what the actual point was-- the gradual character growth for Sam, Dean, and Cas. 

Sam, Dean, and Cas are the characters we care about. They’re the reason we continue watching this show even after 14 years. I wrote a post the other day about this:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184829064145/why-is-every-piece-of-media-now-about-surprise

and here:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184459635020/you-know-what-i-love-dabbs-vision-for-spn-he

and quoting myself from that second post: “Viewers don’t identify with apocalypses, we identify with the characters who survive them, who save the world from them, you know?”

But see, I think looking at the show as “must defeat the big bad, this is what’s important” is literally missing the entire point of watching. THAT is what Dabb wanted us to take away here.

First off, it was Dean who killed Lucifer, by finally saying yes to a version of Michael, but then Dean lost to Michael internally. He eventually DID defeat Michael inside his own mind in 14.10-- with the help of Sam and Cas. I mean... TFW victory, right? And then he spent several episodes struggling to keep Michael contained.

And all of it, in the end, when the three of them stood there facing God, was pointless. Pointless in the plot-narrative of defeating an endless string of Big Bads. Discovering that no matter how well they succeeded, no matter how many people they saved, Chuck would just throw another wrench into their lives and start the story again. Every time they thought they were finally winning, finally allowed themselves to think about their lives reaching a sort of stasis where they went out on occasional hunts and handled them easily, and even considered the “toes in the sand” sort of break from hunting where the world wasn’t constantly trying to end itself... Chuck would just toss another Cosmic Catastrophe at them.

And Jack... was one of those Cosmic Catastrophes.

(which is why no matter how much he’s become family, no matter how important he is to all of them, no matter how much they’ve all grown by their relationship with Jack, he’s still in a different narrative category than our Three Heroes)

I don’t know what Jack’s fate will be at the end of the road, but what I do know is that for the rest of TFW-- for Sam, Dean, and Cas-- s15 will absolutely be about their very human wants and needs, and their final release from Chuck’s eternal cosmic spiral. 14.20 was about their individual awakenings to this fact of the universe, this fact of their entire lives having been engineered entirely for the original creator’s entertainment. Only now can they truly fight for THEMSELVES, instead of fighting to stop an apocalypse and save the world. For the first time EVER, they are fighting for their OWN humanity.

I really really hope this makes sense. There’s only so much yelling I can do about this. :P

[metalgearkong]

Thoughts on “Death Stranding”

Death Stranding was one of the most anticipated releases of this console generation, and finally in November of 2019 the world got their hands on it. I got my copy about three days after it came out, and leading up to me playing it, I intentionally avoided all trailers and gameplay footage. I wanted to experience this game as freshly as possible when it was in front of me. I bought this game out of pure confidence in Hideo Kojima’s brilliance, and wanted to support him regardless. After being fired from Konami, the publisher he was with sincemost of his career, he created his own independent studios, and Death Stranding is their seminal title. 

Hideo Kojima is most known for the Metal Gear series, and is the grandfather of stealth video games. I wasn’t a big fan of Metal Gear Solid 5, but Metal Gear Solid 1 through 4 are some of my favorite games of all time. I also adored P.T. the demo for his upcoming Silent Hill rebooted under Konami. It’s one of gaming’s greatest tragedies that it was discontinued, as P.T. is one of the most subtle and terrifying pieces of media I’ve ever experienced. Konami decided he was spending too much money on his projects, and they apparently weren’t about to give him millions of dollars further to finish Metal Gear Solid 5 and start a new game with Silent Hills. Death Stranding is a brand new original game made by Hideo Kojima’s brand new studio Kojima Productions (under Sony), and I have deeply conflicting feelings about it.

We play as Sam Porter Bridges; his name referring to his job and the company he works for. Bridges is a pseudo governmental organization which employs Porters, glorified couriers who deliver cargo between the fractured cities on a post-apocalyptic USA (now called the United Cities of America). Like any Hideo Kojima game, the beginning is front-loaded with cinematics and exposition. In the past, his cinematics may have been long (revolutionary for their time) but at least they were informative, dramatic, or entertaining. The cinematics in Death Stranding feel dull, lifeless, overly long, and worst of all, don’t deliver information of this vastly strange world very well. I was deeply confused constantly as to what the new terminology for very ordinary things were, and I don’t feel like I was given enough emotional connection or information to care much for this world.

Gameplay is all about lugging cargo on foot from one place to another. One of the most major fundamental aspects of this game that keeps me from liking it, is the world itself doesn’t make much sense. Not only are lone men sent to physically carry cargo on their backs between places miles apart, the hazards of getting from one place to another make this method of connecting cities extremely dangerous and anti-efficient. Not only is the terrain rough, the environment is populated with marauders called MULES who seek out to stop you, and ghostly entities called BTs who will essentially drag you to the underworld. These BTs are invisible to the naked eye, and a loud sensor on your shoulder tells you when they’re near. Sam has a special syndrome called DOOMS which allows him to at least partially see these BTs (at lest when he’s holding still). To add to it, Bridges don’t give him a vehicle or weapons of any kind. If someone dies in this world, soon their body causes a “Void Out” which means their corpse basically becomes a nuclear bomb. Yes, someone’s fresh corpse becomes a nuclear bomb, lets send out men by themselves through all these hazards as our means of connecting everyone to the network and making UPS deliveries.

This all would be more than enough if it weren’t for the Timefall. In this world, Timefall is basically the name for rain, and it instantly ages anything it lands on. We see this demonstrated when Sam puts his hand out in the rain, and the place where the rain drops, ages that tiny bit of skin immediately. This is essentially several times worse than if the rain was simply acidic. The problem with this is, why does the Timefall only seem to affect certain things? Why aren’t the futuristic buildings and roads constantly degraded? Why does Sam’s rain coat doesn’t degrade? Why does the entire environment except for what’s inconvenient for gameplay affected? Your cargo, if carried in the rain, will degrade, worsening your score at the end of delivery missions. You have to spray it with repair stuff to get it back to good condition. And if the rain is this destructive, why is Sam only equipped with a hood? Have you every been out in the rain in a raincoat with a hood? You still get wet, especially if you simply look up slightly. This whole world doesn’t seem well thought out, and is unique for the sake of being artsy and different.

The game, according to the map, seems to take place on the East Coast, somewhere around Southern New England, but the terrain itself looks like nothing from the East Coast (even after an apocalypse). The environments look more like volcanic Iceland or Northern Europe, and I question why Hideo Kojima chose the East Coast of the United States as the game’s location if the terrain resembles nothing like it. Most of Death Stranding is hiking from one place to another, getting packages to their destinations in as good of a condition as possible. As far as the walking mechanics are, they are very realistic and in-depth. All of your cargo is physically represented on Sam’s back, and each item has a weight. When walking, Sam has to use his balance to stay upright. Each arm is mapped to each trigger button, and as a hiker myself, I appreciate the level of detail of carrying a heavy load. The strange juxtiposition to me, is that this is a very serious game that takes everything super seriously, yet the main game is all about carrying a comically large load on your back. It looks comical compared to literally every other aspect of the game, and I think Death Stranding would have been a lot more fun if the cargo’s weight was simply represented, and not its physical presence.

The menus and much of the UI is also terribly designed. As a lifelong gamer, I shouldn’t have been driven to such levels of frustration trying to simply make sense of the menus. I’ve never had such a difficult time getting to know a game, and I would dissect this UI to study what not to do if you want to teach your players how your game works. It feels intentionally unintuitive, especially because most of what the menus do, are typical things found in any video game. All of these issues would be more forgivable if the gameplay was any fun, but when you have nothing to look forward to are managing meters, walking miles with 120 kilos on your back, and avoiding annoying enemies, it all kept me from wanting to keep pushing onward. There is a multiplayer aspect similar to Dark Souls, in that other players can leave ladders, ropes, and roadways for other players to use, but I live in a place where I can’t use multiplayer, so these helpful aspects did me no good.

Death Stranding is a truly bold and unique vision. I am genuinely glad Hideo Kojima was able to land on his feet so quickly, and form his own video game company with his own staff, vision, and goals. It’s uncommon that a triple-A game is able to take such interesting new routes with the open world format. Death Stranding is completely devoid of microtransactions and other money making bullshit filled in other major titles to release on consoles. While I did not enjoy this game, it seems like many other people did. Even if I don’t love every game, I’m all for this sort of visionary game design, and wish the industry encouraged more of these sorts of titles. It’s better than playing franchise games only pushed out to make a quick buck, or have little difference from their prior titles. 

I like Death Stranding for what it is, but calling it a grind to play would be generous. Most of the mechanics and concepts feel deliberately tedious, and I’m not going to subject myself to two dozen more hours of it to uncover the story. Besides the gameplay, the logic of the world didn’t make any sense to me either, and the obtuse cinematics with a bloated sense of self importance when very little is accomplished, I found very little reason to care about anyone in this world. Hideo Kojima always wanted to make movies before he landed in the video game industry, and his passion for writing and directing has reflected that throughout his career. I have a feeling Death Stranding would have worked better as a TV series, and not as an interactive tedious game experience. I like what’s happening at Kojima Productions on a purely philosophical level, and I hope this game does well enough for them to continue making unique games. My personal feelings on Death Stranding are not overall positive, but I’m rooting for Hideo Kojima regardless