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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer Ch 13: Cap’N Crunch

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: The investigation begins to slot together...with some suprising results.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!!!!

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Song for Episode: The Imitation Game by Alexandre Desplat

A/N: This is a LONG chapter guys, but the case is cracked... ooooohhhhhhh!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List // Main Masterlist I'd look at one of my stonecutters hammering away at the rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet, at the hundred and first blow it would split in two, and I knew it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before. - Jacob Riis

By the time they had arrived at Pierce’s, the press were already circling like vultures. Steve called Fury on the way to fill him in on what they had found in Stan’s notes and to his surprise the Commander wasn’t as shocked as Steve had expected. Mind you, he had stated to Steve that he suspected a cover up had happened so maybe this was simply cementing his initial suspicions. The Captain drove carefully through the crowd which was being parted by a number of Thor’s officers, before the large blonde himself gave them both a nod, lifting the tape to allow him to steer his car into the inner boundary. They parked up, climbed out and headed up the drive way which led to the double garage at the side of the large house.

Tony, Sam and Bruce were already in the garage along with Bucky and Commander Fury.

“Sir.” Steve nodded to the man, watching in the corner of his eye as Katie approached the car, stopping by the driver’s side to get a look.

“I take it that’s what killed him.” She said, nodding to the body. Steve walked up behind her, stooped down and his eyes flickered to the single bullet hole straight between Pierce’s eyes.

“Yup.” Tony said. “No other marks or bruises. The blood splatter indicates that he was shot where he is now, so we’re not looking for a second crime scene, same as the others in that respect.” “Yeah, and here’s your cereal…” Bruce said, holding up a clear bag “I’m no expert but these look like Apple Puffs to me.” “Well that fits.” Bucky said “AP, Alexander Pierce.”

“Time of death?” Steve asked and Tony looked at him.

“Judging from the body you’re probably looking at between 5 and 6 hours ago.” “We’ll know more when we get him on the slab.” Sam said, and Steve nodded.

“5 or 6 hours ago means he was killed in daylight.” Fury said, and Steve took a deep breath.

“I’ll get Thor to have his team conduct a door-to-door.” he said, and Fury nodded as the Captain turned to Bucky “I take it there were no signs of breaking and entering?”

“No.” Bucky said. “Natasha and Clint are in the house supervising the detailed forensics sweep but so far nothing. No forced door, picked locks, smashed windows.”

“Which confirms, as with all the others that Pierce knew his attacker.” Steve nodded.

“This is all pointing one way.” Katie said, “Rumlow. He fits the Profile to a tee…”

“But if what you found in those files is right, Pierce has been shielding Rumlow, hell, hey all have one way or another. If it’s him, why is he targeting them? Fury asked

“And why is he suddenly breaking with his MO?” Steve asked, “None of our other bodies have been killed at home or in broad daylight.”

“Maybe he’s just getting sloppy.” Bucky shrugged

“No.” Katie shook her head “That was an execution. Nothing about this is sloppy. If you want my opinion, he’s reached the end, everyone on that list of people involved in the conspiracy is now dead. This was done on purpose so we would find him like this, he’s taunting us…look what I did before you figured it out…”

“But that doesn’t answer my question.” Fury said “Why would Rumlow target the people who protected him?”

"Maybe he's just a fuckin’ psycho." Bucky shrugged “I mean, hey, Sam…” Sam looked up at his shout “You said the last body, Schmidt, had been beaten in a blind rage right, symptomatic with someone losing their temper?”

“Yeah…” Sam nodded before he bent back over into the car, continuing his examinations and Bucky looked at her

“Point proven, he’s a loop.” “No. He’s not. He's too meticulous.” Katie shook her head and looked at Bucky “Each killing escalated in violence right? I think he was doing that to frighten Pierce. Leading him to think he was going to meet the most violent end of all.” she bit her lip. “What is it?” Steve asked.

“Rumlow can't have known for long...that Pierce was his father I mean.”

“His what?” Bucky spluttered as he looked at Katie then to Steve as Sam let out a huff of surprise too.

“Oh, yeah, there’s a lot we need to fill you in on…” Steve looked at the sergeant apologetically. “But not here…” Bucky nodded and Katie continued.

“If he had known, he would have been using him long before the rape case to progress his career because that's what he was like, a narcissist. Everything was about him. When Sarah Klein turned him down, he took her anyway...and then tried to do the same with me.”

“So he finds out about his parentage...he tells Pierce to make the rape case go away or he blows the fact that he got an underage girl pregnant.” Steve looked at her and she looked at him.

“That’s my guess, yeah.”

“So Pierce plays ball otherwise his career and reputation are dead in the water.” Fury mused “Which leaves Rumlow free to continue at the 99…” “And then he assaulted me.” Katie swallowed “Which is where my dad comes into it. The assault charge against me is dropped as well, and we can assume Pierce was to thank for that too, only this time they hadn’t factored in Dad’s amazing ability to kick up a shit storm…so Pierce has no alternative but to force Rumlow to resign.” she paused again and Steve spotted the look on her face, the look she wore when things were finally slotting into place.

“That’s what this is about…” she continued and looked up at Steve, then to Fury then to Bucky “In Rumlow’s eyes they all failed him…” she looked back at Steve “Rumlow had no family, no wife, nothing but the job so take that away from him and he becomes a no-one, which is the worst thing in the world that can happen to a narcissist.”

“But why wait 5 years?” Bucky looked at her.

“He didn’t.” she said, shaking her head “He killed the person he blamed at the time- My dad. Then 18 months or so later he gets busted for the robbery and handed 3 years. Only Pierce doesn’t bail him out this time so he spends his sentence getting angrier and angrier, because everyone else is to blame but himself. He gets out, and starts hunting the rest of them down. One by one. Anyone and everyone that he feels is at fault.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“Well…” Fury looked at Katie, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards lightly “Looks like you just cracked it Stark…”

And damned it, Steve couldn’t help the proud smile that spread across his face. His girl was clever, and he fucking loved her brain as well as her beauty.

“No wonder you wanted to bring her back from DC. Well, apart from the obvious more selfish reasons…” Bucky muttered to Steve, who looked at him, raising his eyebrow.

“I told you Buck…” he said, watching Katie who was talking to Fury now “She’s the best in the business.”

“…we still need to find him.” her voice said as Steve tuned back into what she was now discussing with the Commander. “And I need to prove it too. Back it all up with facts so it isn’t merely supposition…and I still want to know for sure what the fuck the cereal is all about.”

“So do I.” Fury said, as he looked at his watch “Ok, I’m gonna head back to Plaza, speak to Rhodes and Wuntcsh. We need to handle this press release carefully.” “I think we need to put Rumlow’s face out there.” Katie said “Let’s name him, have everyone in the country looking for him.”

Fury nodded “I agree, time we went public. Keep me up to speed.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and watched the man make his way down towards his car. He turned back to his troops just as Natasha and Clint emerged from the house “Anything?”

They both shook their heads “Nothing out of the ordinary.” “Alright, in that case can you organise and supervise the house to house, Nat, get Thor onto it. Someone has to have seen something. Meanwhile, we’ll head back to the station.” he looked at Katie, Clint then Bucky “We’ll start digging into this theory, see if we can make it tie up. We could use your hawk eyes on this one Clint.”

“Happy to oblige Cap.” he saluted, before he turned to Nat “You keep my car, I’ll grab a lift off Super Serge…” he said, patting Bucky’s shoulder.

“Lucky me.” Bucky rolled his eyes, playfully.

***** They had been back at the station for roughly 2 hours, digging through everything they could think of whilst sprawled in the Incident Room. Clint had ordered pizza in for them, and as such there were discarded boxes along with cans of soda littered around the place, adding to the general chaos of the room.

Katie had written the key points of her theory on the whiteboard, and they were busy tacking documents to the board which seemed to back the different points up. The idea being, as Katie said, they could make connections, trace one link to another easier if the visuals were right there in front of them

It struck Steve just how like Howard Katie was. She worked in a very similar way, his mantra always being that if you eliminated the impossible, no matter what remains, however improbable, it had to be the truth. His daughter seemed to do the same. She was eliminating things that didn’t matter, that couldn’t possibly be true, things that were unimportant as she was following this one thread through the entire case. She’d said right from the off Rumlow was involved, even though they’d had no hard evidence to back that up. Well, now they did, and they were uncovering more and more as they worked.

Steve looked up as he saw Katie reaching for her phone. “Yeah, you get something?” he watched as she paused, her hand running through her hair before she grinned “Tony’ you're a fucking genius..."

She put the phone down and she stood up, moving to the board and pulling the DNA results off from where they'd been tacked up

"These are duplications..." she says "Tony's been digging and talking to a few of his friends in the private sector...apparently these were run originally by a Dr Armin Zola, who was struck off not long after for malpractice. The originals were mailed out to a Mr Brock Rumlow a few weeks before the rape took place...and guess what? Zola turned up dead a week or so later...choked on a steak."

"How the fuck did Tony find that out?" Bucky looked at her.

"Ok, when I say talking to a few friends...I actually mean hacking, but that's not important. I was right, Rumlow didn’t know until that point and ever since he's been using it. Pierce keeps him out of jail but when he's done for robbery he can't…” she tapped at a photo on the board, “because the CCTV footage, everything...it's too much. It would attract attention.”

Steve looked at her, then Bucky before Clint spoke up.

“Yeah, and I've been digging into Rumlow's financials. The guy was destitute. After leaving the police he struggled to find work- was doing the odd bit of security but nothing big, and he couldn't take his pension yet. This was the prosecutions main angle during the robbery case- that he needed the money.”

“The cereal…” Katie mumbled. “Fuck, when I said about the caviar and silver spoons normally being used about making a point, people being rich.”

“He is making the same point, but the other way around.” Steve looked at her and she nodded.

“No posh or fancy silver spoons for me, just mundane cereal. He’s bitter. Bitter he never had the fucking lifestyle that being Pierces kid would have brought him.”

“So he kills Zola…” Bucky looked up “And makes it look like an accident?” Katie bit her lip and something else flashed in her eyes and her mouth dropped open.

“What is it?” Steve looked at her.

“I don’t think he did…”

“The MO…” Bucky started, but she shook her head.

“It’s different. None of the others actually died from choking. They were hit with a hammer, or in Pierce’s case shot.”

“So someone else did Zola…” Bucky looked at her and Steve let out a sigh, the dots connecting in his own mind.

“Pierce.” he said looking at Katie. “Rumlow approaches him with the evidence and he kills Zola to keep his dirty little secret quiet...”

“And then when my dad uncovers all this…he killed him, and mom too.” She shook her head, looking down before she reached for her chair sinking into it “It was Pierce…he killed my parents…I can’t believe it.”

The room fell silent as the 3 men all exchanged a look and Steve turned back to his girl, whose eyes had filled with tears. And at that point, he decided enough was enough.

"Alright, I'm calling it." he said "It's midnight, it's been a long day.” he took a deep breath “Rumlow must have been staying somewhere since he got out of jail. Tomorrow we need to find out where” he turned then to Clint, “We’ll reconvene here at 8 am sharp. Barton, first thing I want you and Nat to follow any lead, no matter how small we got from the house to house. And before you go, get onto Thor...I want all eyes out for Rumlow on the night shift. If they see him, arrest on sight.”

****

Steve, Katie and Bucky all climbed out of Steve’s car in the underground parking lot attached to the apartment block. Steve headed to the trunk and pulled out Katie’s bag, which Bucky noticed was larger than normal meaning she was intending on staying for longer than the night, but he refrained from making any snarky comment. She’d hardly spoken a word all the way home and he couldn’t blame her. Instead he simply observed as Steve reached for her hand which she took and the two of them walked slightly ahead of him to the door that led to the elevators.

They emerged onto the landing and Steve unlocked the door, swinging it open to let Katie in first. Once she was in she took off her jacket, hung it on the coat stand by the door and turned to them both.

“I don’t want to be rude but I’m exhausted. I’m gonna take a shower and get in bed.” Bucky gave her a smile “Don’t blame you Doll Face.”

She managed a roll of her eyes with a smile at the nickname and she moved to take her bag from Steve but he shook his head.

“It’s ok, I’ve got it.” he said and she smiled at him before she turned back to Bucky.

“Night Buck.” “Yeah, see you in the morning.” he said.

Steve followed her down to his room where he deposited her bag on the chair in the corner and she turned to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. The rain was beating against the bedroom window and he glanced outside, his chin resting on the top of her head as he gave a sigh. Looked like this shit weather was in for the night, which was fairly apt really all things considered. Eventually she stepped back and looked up at him and he leaned down pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Go get sorted.” he said, “I won’t be far behind you. Do you want a drink or anything?” “No, I’m good thanks Stevie.”

He smiled again and then left her to her own devices. When he walked back into the kitchen Bucky was sat at the breakfast bar and slid him an open beer as he dropped onto the stool besides him.

“She ok?” Bucky asked.

“Not really.” Steve sighed

“And what about you?” Bucky looked at him. “You were close to Howard. That’s bound to have been a head fuck.” “You’re not wrong.” Steve sighed “We gotta catch this bastard Bucky. Pierce will never face justice for what he did but Rumlow can.” “And he will.” Bucky said, taking a mouthful of his beer “We’ll find him.”

The two friends sat talking until their beer was finished and at that both decided to call it a night. Steve’s room was dark when he entered, the only light coming from outside street lighting which flooded through the crack in the curtains. He went to pull them shut tightly but Katie stopped him.

“Don’t, I like the light.” He chuckled as he turned to face her “Now we both know you’re not afraid of the dark, Star.” “I know…” she said as he pulled off his Henley, discarding it over her pile of clothes on the chair “I just like it, that’s all.” Once he was down to his boxers he crawled over her, dropping a kiss to her lips “I’ll be 5. Just gonna shower.” “Ok.” she yawned, settling herself down further under the covers.

Steve took the hottest shower he could stand, willing the warmth to wash away the events of the day. His shoulders ached from them being so damned tense and he rolled them slightly, cracking his neck from side to side as the water beat down on him. Once he was done he headed back to his room, towelled off, pulled a clean pair of boxers on and settled down besides Katie. He pulled her to him, her back pressed to his chest as he dropped a soft kiss to her bare shoulder just to the side of the strap of her cami top. They lay silent for a while, the only sound was the rain falling outside, but he could tell she wasn’t asleep from her breathing.

“Remember that trip we took to Camp Lehigh.” Katie broke the silence and Steve took a deep breath.

“How could I forget?” he smiled. And he meant it, that weekend was ingrained in his brain forever. He’d split up with Peggy a few weeks before hand and Katie had split up with Grant a couple of months before that as well. The pair of them had been miserable, basically slumping around her apartment or his, wallowing in their joint grief and pity before Katie had decided they needed to go and do something, something fun. Camp Lehigh had been somewhere that her parents had taken her and Tony every year as kids, an activities camp of sorts, with little cabins and all kinds of sports and activities to do, so on a whim she’d booked them in for the weekend and they’d headed off. It had been great. They’d gone hiking, done the assault courses, paintballing, kayaking, drunk round the campfire with the other people there. In fact, that was where her star necklace had come from, the gift shop. It was a cheap, sterling silver pendant but he’d wanted to say thank you as the weekend had been a balm to his soul. Upon leaving they’d vowed that was it, their lives started over and they moved forward. Which was what they had done, and every spare bit of time they had they’d filled with something fun.

“You made me take the top bunk.” She said, “You were afraid if you took it you’d come falling through and land on me in the middle of the night.”

“Well on the second night we both ended up in the bottom one anyway.” he said, his arm pulling her closer “It was raining, like it is now, and then it thundered and you shit yourself.” “I did not…” she said indignantly, causing him to snort. “Ok, maybe a little…”

They fell silent again, and she shuffled in his arms, turning to face him. “You know, that night when we just lay there and we were talking for hours until you fell asleep…I could feel your heart beating in your chest and I remember asking myself how Peggy could have ever let you go.” Steve looked down at her, brushing her hair back slightly off her face as she continued. “In fact, I think that’s the moment I realised I loved you. I mean, I’d had those feelings for you for a long time but that was the time I finally understood why whenever I was with you I got that safe, happy feeling.” Steve pressed a kiss to her lips, his forehead resting against hers. “We wasted a lot of time Doll.”

“I know.” she sighed. “So stupid when you look back on it isn’t it?” “Well, there’s no point thinking about it now.” he said softly, his hand gently sliding up and down her back “You’re stuck with me forever.” “Promise?”

“Cross my heart Star.” he said, his lips catching hers again in a soft kiss before he grinned. “Even if you are afraid of thunder.” “Piss off…” She chuckled, shoving him gently.

“You know, I always found it odd…how you could be so scared of thunder but quite like a Storm…” he quipped and she let out a groan.

“Again, Steve?”

“Sorry, sorry…” he chuckled, “I know, it’s just…well it was only a week ago tonight that I thought I’d lost you again when you left with him.” “Keep on mentioning him and I just might do it again.” “Uh-uh…” he said, grinning as he rolled her onto her back. “Like I said, you’re stuck with me forever. You’re never leaving.” “Never?” “No.” “What you gonna do? Handcuff me to the bed?” Steve let out a soft groan as she tilted her hips upwards, pushing into his groin “Don’t tempt me Star…” She bit her lip as she looked up at him. “You wanna go all bad cop Captain?”

“Yeah, well, you bring out the absolute worst in me…”

“You love it.” she teased.

“No, I love you. The rest of the shit just comes along.” he mumbled, his lips catching hers again. This kiss this time fevered as her tongue slid into his mouth, tangling with his own. She gave a soft moan which almost died in her throat as she pulled back and looked up at him, her hands tangling in his hair. It took a while for the fog to clear from his lust addled brain, but eventually Steve pulled back, searching her eyes in the dim light of the room.

“Sweetheart, you need sleep…” he said, clearing his throat as his nose brushed up against hers. “After everything that’s happened today, I-“

“I need to forget…” she whispered, cutting him off, her hand cupping his face. “Please, make me forget Stevie…” She whispered into his mouth.

And that was it. Suddenly he was pulling her top over her head, his mouth nipping and sucking at her chest as she writhed and keened underneath him. His hand worked into the waistband of the shorts she was wearing and she gasped as his fingers gently started to tease her, before he upped the pace slightly, and with a flick of his wrist pushed two inside her, curling against that soft spot that he knew would leave her boneless and pliant underneath him.

“I love you…I love you so fucking much…”He said, making her groan again as he continued to work her with his hand. Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and she wriggled underneath him.

“You want something?” he teased and she raised her head, glowering at him.

“Steve if you don’t fuck me right now I swear to God…” “You’ll do what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll call Storm…”

“Doll, don’t threaten me…” his voice grew low. She was such a mouthy little shit at times and she knew what buttons to press and when to press them, fucking brat.

“Or what?” she propped herself up on her elbows. Oh he knew exactly what. In a flash he had reached out, and grabbed at her hips, flipping her over so that her front was pressed into the bed covers. She let out a little shriek, followed by a dirty giggle which made his already evident arousal even harder as he crawled over her, nipping at her neck. In seconds he had her moaning again, and grinning to himself he pulled back slightly and she let out a cry of frustration.

“Steve…” she said, her voice pleading. He completely ignored her as he hovered over her, his mouth tracing a line down her spine as she continued to whimper. His lips formed a smirk against her skin and as he reached the dip of her lower back he wriggled out of his boxers and grasped her hips, pulling her ass off the bed. He easily discarded her shorts before he positioned himself behind her, the tip of his aching, rock hard cock simply teasing at her entrance.

“This what you want?” he practically purred and she groaned.

“Yes, Jesus Christ…” In one swift move he was buried to the hilt and she let out a load moan, her face muffled slightly by the pillow.

“Ah, ah Star” he said, as his hand reached out and gripped her shoulder, he pulled her back so she was propped up on her elbows “I wanna hear you…”

Katie bit her lip as he started moving, hard, fast, deep. He could tell that every thrust was rocking her very core and she was putty in his hands within minutes. As his hips snapped back and forth, loud grunts and groans filled the room, mingling with the sound of skin slapping on skin as he continued his ferocious pace, his hand still on her shoulder pulling her back onto him with every pound forward he made. Steve bent over her to nip at Katie’s neck, a little harder than usual, and he spoke into her ear with a growl. "You feel so good. So fucking good.”

"So do you…" she moaned to him as he kept up his relentless pace, and she felt the release creeping up through her belly. “Shit…Captain…” Captain…fuck he loved that! He gave another nip to her neck before he pulled back, looking down at the place they were joined, were he was pumping in and out of her as he continued his salacious assault on her spot. He felt her legs go rigid and she tightened around him, her head tipping back.

“Come for me doll…” he groaned and a loud cry ripped from her throat as her hands fisted around the sheets and her entire body shook. Unable to control herself she collapsed and in a flash Steve curled his arm around her waist, he’d never let her fall. A few short thrusts and he was done, the entire world around him tilted on its axis as he spilled himself inside of her with a low growl, before he collapsed forward, letting her down as gently as he could, finally face planting onto the bed, sweating and spent besides her. Neither of them moved for a moment, the only sounds that could now be heard was deep breathing from both of them as they came down from their high, fighting for composure. Eventually Steve felt Katie move and he turned his head lazily to the right to see she was led on her stomach, her head turned towards him, and at the sight of her looking utterly wrecked thanks to him, he couldn’t help the smug grin spreading across his face.

“I kinda like Bad Cop.” She mumbled and he laughed, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear before he pulled her face towards his for a soft, gentle kiss.

********

Steve's eyelids were heavy the following morning and he struggled to open his eyes before rubbing them and giving a yawn. His bladder was full but his mind wandered to the events the previous day, exhausting as they had been, which had led to a no less exhausting, albeit for better reasons, night. He smiled as he turned around to reach for Katie only to find the left side of his bed empty. He ran a hand over the vacated space and sighed at the cold touch.

After the customary visit to the bathroom and putting on a t-shirt, Steve went out of his bedroom and headed for the kitchen, following the clattering sounds of breakfast getting ready as if he was following the Pied Piper. When he reached the kitchen door the smell of something just baked mixed with the delicious scent of freshly brewed coffee hit his nostrils.

But something even more delicious caught his sight. Just as he had predicted Katie was already up, making breakfast. She was wearing one of his Henley shirts over her lacy panties and nothing more. He was sure. He had spotted Katie's bra discarded over the back of the chair with the rest of her clothes from the previous night before heading out. Steve felt something stir inside his boxer briefs at the sight of his shirt covering the curve of his girl's ass and how it hung over the upper part of her thighs. Fortunately, he had decided as a last minute decision to put on a pair of pyjama pants.

He couldn't deny the sight of Katie, in his clothes, making breakfast in his kitchen like she just belonged, made his chest burst with happiness. To the point that he let out a contented sigh from where he was leaning on the kitchen's door frame.

It was then that Bucky, who was sitting at the breakfast bar eating his plums, noticed his presence and turned around. He saw his friend, and observed the way he was staring at Katie and mouthed Pervert at him. Steve just smiled and said "Morning." At that Katie turned to greet him back and Steve instantly saw the stains on her cheeks. She had been crying. He gave her a concerned look before turning to look at Bucky who didn't need any words to understand what he was expected to do.

"Erm, I'm gonna get ready." he said as he just sat up before nodding at Steve as he left the kitchen giving them some space.

Steve then crossed the floor of the room towards her and Katie simply leaned into him, wrapping her arms round his wide back. Her face pressed into his T-shirt, inhaling his scent. He didn't say anything. He just rubbed his girl's back as he thought he could get used to her being there in his arms every morning, before stepping back and wiping her face with his finger pads.

"Sweetheart, how much sleep did you get?" he asked her softly.

"Few hours." she shrugged. "I just couldn't stop thinking about mum and dad... and how Tony needs to know we're pretty sure Pierce did it and..."

Steve sensed her beginning to spiral and decided to take the matter in his hands.

"Shhhhh...Star, just breathe... let me help you with this ok? We'll go to the station, check on the status of the search for Rumlow and then we'll go speak to Tony." he cooed, hugging her against his chest again.

Katie nodded and Steve, satisfied with how things were turning out, tried again with another distraction.

"What were you cooking?" he asked nodding towards the stove.

"I did cinnamon buns, your Ma's recipe...and was just whipping up some eggs and bacon." she answered as she resumed her position in front of the bowls and pans that were scattered over the kitchen counter.

Steve realised then she had to have been up for hours if she had managed cinnamon buns as whenever she made those, she usually got them ready the night before to bake in the morning. He shook his head in a disapproving gesture before approaching her again, hugging her from behind this time, and kissing her head.

"Ok Doll, let's get those ready and we can eat." he suggested.

"I'm not that hungry..." Katie began to explain.

"That wasn't a request. You're already sleep deprived. I don't want you fainting because you haven't eaten." Steve stated, nearly ordered, going into concerned Captain mode.

She saw Katie smile, instead of getting all pissy at his commanding tone of voice, and bite her lip.

"What?" he asked.

"You'll make a great husband one day..." she said with a simile that reached her eyes.

And just like that Steve was brought back to his ma's banter about the ring and the proposal for the second time in less than 24 hours. And not only that. Fucking hell! It hadn't even been a week since they had got back together. What day was today anyway? Friday? Just the previous Friday he was moping around and getting dragged to the Compound in a stormy, you could say, turn of events. But then again, as everyone liked to point out lately, they went back to 10 years before any of this. Everything they've done...it really was like they had dated but without the physical side. How the fuck did he not see what was right in front of his damned eyes for all that time? Coz you're a stupid, punk. His little inner voice answered for him, a voice which was annoyingly similar to Bucky's. But back to the husband thing....

"Well, as long as it's your husband Doll..." Steve said as he felt his cheeks flush.

Katie stopped what she was doing to look at him and simply smiled again, that damned smile that got him weak, before giving him a gentle kiss.

He then grabbed a tea towel from the breakfast bar and threw it over his shoulder to start helping Katie. He was loving the domesticity. How she directed him around as if they were a pair of newly- weds getting breakfast ready on a lazy Sunday morning. Again those marriage thoughts but he didn't mind as he helped her with the food before shoving more coffee on. And then their domestic bliss was broken by a piercing sound.

"Can I come back in now? I'm starving!" Bucky shouted from somewhere in the living room.

"Jerk." Steve yelled back.

"Smells good, doll face" Bucky said when he appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later.

"That fucking name!" Katie said, throwing a spoon at him.

"You know? I still remember the first time I called you that and you got mad." Bucky grinned catching said spoon expertly in his right hand.

"I hated you back then." Katie retorted as she whipped the eggs.

"You didn't doll face. You loved me. And HIM." Bucky said gesturing to Steve. "Even though you pretended otherwise." he shrugged before biting another plum.

Steve then saw Katie stop what she was doing and slowly turn to look at his friend with narrowed eyes. There she is, he thought, his face cracking into a grin at the dirty look she was shooting his best friend.

"Piss off Barnes."

Bucky laughed before looking at Steve. "Steve tell her how you were mad at me coz you thought I was hitting on her."

"No...that's...I never said that..." Steve tried to protest as he looked from Bucky to Katie.

"Oh you absolutely did." Bucky said nodding exaggeratedly.

"Seriously Steve...you can't lie for shit." Katie said after watching him for a couple of seconds, a smile playing on her face.

"Remember when they all gave you the slip and I bought you lunch?" Bucky asked Katie. “Well apparently I did that because I wanted to bone you…” At that Katie let out a huge laugh and Steve sighed, shaking his head.

"Ok, maybe I was a little paranoid..."

"Yes, paranoically in love...." Bucky quipped.

"Do you wanna eat this breakfast or wear it, jerk?" Steve said with feigned indignation. Well, maybe not so feigned. Although it was true, he didn't like being exposed like that. Not that Katie didn't know how he had felt about her, though.

Katie chuckled and shook her head as she started to plate up breakfast.

Bucky then shot Steve a wink, to which the captain mouthed Thank you. He really appreciated his friend's efforts to keep her distracted from her thoughts again. Even though Bucky could be like an annoying little brother at times, Steve felt the dynamic the three of them had set was remarkably good. True Katie and Bucky had hit it off from the beginning, despite their constant bickering, but the addition of Bucky to the equation that was his and Katie's budding relationship was flawless. Mind you, he could be a teasing jerk sometimes, and there was no way he didn't hear them the previous night the way they were going at it but he hadn't passed any comment. Not yet, at least.

They headed for the station without further ado that morning. There was so much to do, so many phone calls to make, so many reports and evidence to go through once more, now the case had taken a much needed, though unexpected, turn. They had no time to waste and they were also eager to know if the search on Rumlow had thrown any light.

So Steve pulled the car into the station's parking lot after a quick stop to grab their usual morning coffee treat, seeing as it was his turn to buy and Bucky wasn't willing to let it go. No matter how busy they were, no matter what the circumstances were. Steve wondered what was with Bucky and just eating plums for breakfast first thing in the morning and not having his dose of caffeine until much later through the day. Unless he was hungover that is, which was happening a lot quite recently.

When the three of them entered the station's main office they were met with a face they weren't expecting. Sure, they didn't expect to find Wanda but her replacement had arrived fast and might have caused a stir in the organization of another precinct.

"Gina! Oh my god..." Katie squealed, approaching the woman with her arms open.

"What are you doing here? Not that I don't want you here but are you Wanda's replacement?" Steve asked, trying to understand.

"Kinda... I'm gonna be doing 2 days here, 3 at the 99 until Fury finds someone." Gina explained as she stepped back from Katie’s embrace.

"Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in." Steve frowned.

"Well, there's a lot of things he doesn't tell people." Gina shrugged, as if she hung out with Fury on a daily basis.

Steve went quiet and looked at Katie, who was unsuccessfully trying not to laugh. His own mouth was quirking as well when he turned around to look at Bucky who had an expression of utter whatthefuckness, if that was even a word, all over his face. But Gina didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest, as she continued sharpening the pencils Wanda had left in the pencil pot at the reception desk before asking. "What did you do to Maximoff."

"I didn't do anything to her, she quit." Steve informed, yet a bit offended.

"Ah, maybe that's why she resigned... Anyway Captain, your post is on your desk and I sent pretty eyes out for a Danish." Gina said, turning into assistant mode.

"Who's pretty eyes?" Bucky asked.

He had met the woman twice, once when he had been at the 99 with Katie to fetch Rumlow's case files and the other a week or so ago on the night out. He remembered clearly on their trip to the 99 Station, she had been teaching Holt how to trash talk. Frankly, the woman was something else.

"Clint..." Katie said, smiling as she sat down on her chair and switched her computer on.

"Is he married?" Gina asked nonchalantly.

The three of them then paused and looked at one another. They didn't know what to say because, truth be told, they hadn’t got a clue.

"I dunno actually, ask Romanoff..." Katie was the first to speak.

"She's kinda scary..." Gina trailed.

"No more than Diaz." Katie quipped, winking an eye at her.

"Yeah, ok, fair point. Anyway I'd love to chat all day but I got stuff to do so stop distracting me." Gina shrugged and started to sort some post on Romanoff's and Barton's desks.

Steve frowned and opened his mouth to say something to the woman but he was utterly lost for words. If whatthefuckness really wasn’t a term then someone needed to add it to the dictionary because that was the only thing that came to his mind right then. So he closed his mouth again and looked at Katie, who again was trying not to laugh.

He was so lost for words to express what he had just experienced that he didn't think too much of it when he dropped a kiss to Katie's cheek who looked up at him surprised.

"Oh... Ok... Finally." Gina said casually before heading back to her desk.

Steve then went bright red at the realization of what he had just done. That was not what he was supposed to be doing in the office he thought as he headed for his office door in a rush, cursing internally, without glancing in Bucky's direction. He didn't need to look at him to know he would be grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thank God, Clint and Nat were nowhere to be seen.

Speaking of the devils, just as Steve was closing the door of his office he saw Clint walk in with Natasha with a brown paper bag, presumably from the deli round the corner. He could hear the banter the two detectives were having with Gina as he took off his jacket hung it over his chair's back.

He ignored the muffled sounds that came from the main office and decided to have a look at his post. He picked up a few letters and went through them. It seemed to be just the normal internal memos and stuff. There was also a note from Fury to say Gina would be starting. No shit Sherlock, he thought.

He then noticed one manila envelope that was a bit larger than normal. He frowned as he opened it to discover it was a box of special K cereal. He instantly dropped it and stood up giving a very loud “Fuck!”

Steve could hear the sound of chairs being dragged and concerned words he could not fully understand in the main office before his office door was slammed open and everyone headed inside, Katie leading them. But they all stopped on their tracks as they spotted the cereal box on his desk.

"Shit, he hasn’t finished...” Katie looked at it, as she glanced at Steve “Special K... SK...Fuck Steve, he's going for Sarah Klein." Katie stuttered, but still managed to get her thoughts expressed.

Steve blinked at the cereal box just as Katie's words sank in and instantly went into Cap mode.

"Buck, get onto Interpol. We need to inform the German Authorities, warn them. Barton and Romanoff I want everyone looking for Rumlow right now. Get Thor to step up patrols. He has to have been staying somewhere, so find him." he called it, nearly barked.

"I'll grab an evidence bag, get that to Tony." Katie offered.

"Doll, you don't have to do that, I can send someone from patrol..." Steve trailed, his voice softening.

"Did he just say doll?" Clint asked Nat, quirking up his eyebrow.

"Loud and present." she answered.

"I can do that, Steve." Katie said, ignoring Bucky's smirk as he had overheard Clint and Nat too.

"I’ll go with you, I said I would..." Steve insisted, but she cut him off.

"No, it's fine. I want to talk to him about what we found yesterday and think its best I do that alone. And besides, you're needed here."

"Ok, get to it. I'll call Fury, keep him updated." he said after a moment’s hesitation, nodding.

And that was the cue for everybody to retreat to the main office and start working on their Captain's orders. There was no time to waste. Steve grabbed his phone and was about to dial Fury's extension number when he noticed Bucky hadn't left his office and was smiling at him.

"What?" he asked, placing the phone on his desk again.

"So, before you kissed her cheek, and now you called her Doll in front of everyone." Bucky said, slumping on one of the chairs in front of Steve's desk.

Steve groaned and blushed again before asking “Did I? Fuck... It came out naturally, I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry, Pal." Bucky said, waving whatever embarrassing thoughts Steve might be getting with a movement of his hand.

"I should control it though, Fury..." Steve said, ignoring his comment.

"Steve, Fury is on your side. Otherwise Katie would be cleaning toilets at Police Plaza instead of being here." Bucky tried to calm him.

But he remarked the last word and Steve got what he was trying to say. It was Saturday. Officially Katie should be off the case, but here she was working on it despite Fury’s orders. Mind you, Fury had been there yesterday when she had basically cracked it and had also, albeit maybe not expressly, given Steve the permission to keep her involved on an unofficial basis…but he would be damned if he abiding by the official orders and benching her now. And he was willing to bet no one in the station would go and tell Fury. With Wanda out of the picture, they were a perfectly assembled team again, watching each other's six.

Steve smiled at him and Bucky stood up and turned to go just as Katie came back with an evidence bag and gloves. He watched as she methodically put the box in the evidence bag and looked at him, nodding.

"Ok, I'll call you in a bit." she said.

"Ok..." Steve nodded and smiled at her. Then he checked around and decided this time it was safe, no eavesdroppers or unwanted witnesses, before saying "Love you. Try not to worry."

"I will and love you too..." she said back before heading off, nodding to Thor who was passing her.

"You're in a rush little Stark?" he asked.

"Gotta get this down to the lab. Talk to you in a bit..." she nodded.

"This is taller and stronger, is he married?" Bucky heard Gina asking Nat.

For the following hour and half everyone was doing what they had been told to as if doing it was second nature to them. The bullring was like a busy marketplace, full of people talking. Thor was helping Nat organize a sting whilst Clint was on the phone talking to some contacts, all of whom seemed to be some sort of former spies if you asked Bucky based on the odd bits of conversation he could get from his desk, trying to trace Rumlow and emailing his photo left, right and centre. Bucky was focused on getting onto Interpol, Rumlow's photo was already at all major airports, but they have to alert the Munich Police force to take Sarah Klein into protective custody.

Gina was assisting them all in whatever phone number or data they might need while screening calls according to importance or relevance to the priority case and taking messages for all of them and Bucky had to give the woman credit, she was doing it well.

At some point Bucky saw Gina stand up from her desk and beeline to Nat's desk where Thor was perched revising some notes on the police operative for the sting.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she said looking at the tall blonde as she pointed in the direction of the kitchen with her right thumb. "Maybe tea?" she insisted, seeing Thor was looking at her wondering who the woman was.

"I don't drink tea." he stated plainly.

"What do you drink?" Gina asked again, now curious about the man.

"Not tea." he stated again as if it was obvious.

Bucky chuckled as he saw Gina look at Thor as if he was some kind of mixture between an alien from another planet and a God, and just as she shrugged and moved to head for the kitchen she nodded at the photos of cereal brands that Natasha was shoving back into a file.

"By the way, what's with the cereal?" she asked.

Natasha then started to explain but soon Thor cut her off and started rambling about how every victim had a different make of cereal shoved down their throats once they were dead. There had been Puffed Rice, Jump Start, Juicy Skulls and finally Apple Puffs.

"God, that's so unimaginative. It should be a cereal that represents the person..." Gina spoke her mind.

"It did." Bucky explained. "It was their initials."

"No. I mean like their personalities..." she said before elaborating on her idea. "So, I would be something sophisticated, like a Granola."

Bucky, Thor and Natasha looked at her, finding it hard to believe what she had just said and Clint snorted as he lifted his eyes from the screen of his computer. At that point Steve walked out about to ask for an update when Gina continued her charade.

"And Captain Hottie Rogers here would be Cap'n Crunch" she said with a flourish of her hand and a wide grin, proud of her own joke.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked her. "What is she talking about?" he asked again, looking at Natasha this time.

"She's just critiquing the Cereal Serial Killer's choice of breakfast snack." the detective said, smiling slightly.

Steve took a deep breath, reminding himself she wouldn't be here for long, before speaking. "Ok, can we focus, please? Thor, report on your troops."

"The gates of hell are filled with..."

Steve stopped listening to Thor, who seemed to have been infected by Gina's nonsense rambling, as from the corner of his eye he saw Clint whisper something to Nat, who snorted. Steve then glared at her. He had too much on his plate right now as it was and they were starting to give him a headache with their shenanigans and high-school whispers.

"Care to share with the rest of the team?" he asked Clint, sternly.

"Sorry, Cap. It…it was a bad joke." Clint apologized.

"Well, it was clearly amusing so let's hear it." Steve insisted.

Clint looked at Bucky, who nodded discreetly at him. Steve had used his Captain voice, he was pissed off. You'd better answer him, pal.

"I just reminded Nat of a joke we used to make... how Katie would be your Special K, that's all, was just a..." Clint explained. “We code named our matchmaking plan Operation Cap’n Crunch and Special K…you know, it…”

"Ha, that's amusing." Thor's laugh echoed throughout the main office, earning an appreciative look from Gina. "Cap'n Crunch and Special K..." he added, shaking his head.

But instead of laughing at the lame joke a cold feeling washed over Steve as the lightbulb suddenly lit up in his head. "Shit."

"Sorry..." Thor trailed, starting an apology.

But Steve wasn't listening to him, his eyes darted at Bucky instead whose mouth had dropped open.

"It's not Sarah Klein..." Bucky mumbled, looking at his friend.

Steve pulled out his phone and pressed the call button. Bucky saw his hand tremble as he brought the device to his ear and yelled "Buck, call Tony. Check if Katie is there. Hurry!"

Clint and Nat shared an understanding and concerned glance just before Gina asked "What's going on?"

Natasha looked at her and swallowed before answering. "Special K...it's Katie Stark... not Sarah Klein."

"Steve..." Bucky's voice which was slightly shaky attracted all the attention just as Steve looked at him. "Tony says Katie hasn't been to the lab..."

"Fuck!" Steve hollered. "Son of a bitch!" he swore again, kicking a chair before turning and starting barking orders, going on full Captain mode like they had never seen him before.

"Natasha, get the CCTV up from the parking lot." he ordered before pointing at Clint "If she left in her car, get on to traffic, pull up any cameras on the way to the lab, see if they track her plate."

Next he pointed at Thor, then Bucky "You, you with me now, we'll take a patrol car and run the route to the lab..."

There was a flurry of movement in the office as everyone jumped to it. Steve, Bucky and Thor literally ran from the office as soon as Steve had grabbed his jacket. He was trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, but his breakfast wasn't willing to cooperate.

#csi rogers and barnes #csi au #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #katie stark #bucky barnes #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #thor #bruce banner #brooklyn 99 #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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izzy-b-hands · 3 years

Text

One Last Party

One of my last fics for Tim Weekend (I have one more for this day that I’m hoping to have finished and posted before Sunday is over!) This event has been an absolute delight, both in participating in it and reading/seeing everything that’s been made for it, and I hope we might see this event happen again in the future! I know I’d be eager to participate again!

For this fic, I went with the Queen party prompt, as I wanted a chance to get some Freddie and Tim interactions written. This was one of the first fics I wrote for Tim Weekend, and it’s dear to my heart. I hope folks will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The only major TW for this is that there is the implication of Freddie’s illness in this; it isn’t addressed directly or anything, and Tim doesn’t know of course, but he’s aware that Freddie seems a bit out of it compared to prior years.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

He doesn’t want to bother him. That above all is foremost in his mind. Freddie is an old friend, yes, but they’ve long-since fallen out of touch with each other.

And he looks tired.

There’s been nothing formally said as to how well or unwell any member of Queen might be, but the papers are intrusive and eager to suggest theories based on the smallest, stupidest detail. It doesn’t help that, in Tim’s experience, musicians are often horrid gossips (and he can admit that he has to include himself in that, at least sometimes.)

He doesn’t want to make any assumptions of course, but regardless, there’s the worry that he’d only irritate Freddie if he should be feeling less-than or otherwise exhausted from the party.

Tim has spent the party milling at the edges of crowds, talking to folks if the mood takes him. He can keep to that, happily.

Or he tries to, until a rotation around the main room of the club lands him at Freddie’s table, in a seat right beside him.

He says nothing, sitting awkwardly to the side in the chair. Even here, the goal is to let Freddie be; let him enjoy the night.

But Freddie turns, and his face lights up.

“There you are! Brian and Roger said you might try and make it, but we haven’t seen you all night so we presumed the worst,” Freddie leans in so they can hear each other over the dull roar of the party-goers.

“Dead?”

Freddie laughs. “That you couldn’t make it. But dead would do that as well, I suppose.”

“I’ve been here,” Tim shrugs, and tries to hide his discomfort. Why is he here? Even the people among the crowds that he knows seemed shocked he showed up.

“I’m glad you made it,” Freddie says. “And I’m glad you made it to one of us, at least! I haven’t seen the others in a bit, but-”

Freddie peers into the crowd in front of them, as if he might somehow see through them. But if Roger, Brian, or John are anywhere close, they aren’t within sight.

He shakes his head. “Well. They’re off doing who knows what, who knows where. But you and I can still catch up.”

“There’s not much for me to catch you up on,” Tim tries to laugh, to keep it lighter than how he feels.

Freddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “If you mean in regards to your attitude, then no, there isn’t. Still self-deprecating to a fault. But if you can honestly tell me that nothing else has changed; that you’re still stuck in that dingy student flat, then we’ll leave right now and I’ll move you into someplace nicer myself!”

There’s a glimmer of their conversations in their college days in that, and Tim lets some of the stress out of his shoulders. Freddie never did suffer fools; he’s still talking to him, so he must truly want to hear him.

“I’ve upgraded,” Tim chuckles. “A dingy house, but it suits me and the family.”

“Wife and kids?”

Tim nods. “And a day job, all that. It’s horribly boring, I’m afraid. You?”

“I doubt that,” Freddie replies, artfully dodging over Tim’s question about family. He catches a waiter walking by with a gentle touch to the elbow. “It’s rather too loud in here; is there anywhere else my friend and I-”

Before Freddie can finish his sentence, the waiter is gesturing them up and down a set of hallways, babbling about an empty VIP space.

The room is cozy, it could fit maybe ten people if that, Tim figures. It looks VIP as well; velvet couches and low tables and a few chairs sat far too close together. But it is much quieter, and that’s a blessing.

“Gets overwhelming,” Freddie remarks as they sit on one of the couches, watching the waiter leave. “Doesn’t it?”

“To me, maybe,” Tim says. “I’m not a pro at things like this like you and the other lads are.”

Freddie snorts. “Bullshit. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know how to handle it. Besides, being a pro at these means nothing. Less than nothing. Can you hold a drink and ramble on to some executive you’d rather not be talking to? If you can do that, you can handle a night like this.”

“Fair enough,” Tim nods. “Still, you’ve all got more experience even with that than I-”

“All I know right now,” Freddie interrupts softly. “Is that I’m hearing a friend talk poorly of himself for no good reason. And that’s not the conversation we should be having. How have you been? What have you kept busy with?”

Tim hesitates to reply, but Freddie nods to urge him on. “I’m married. I already said that, but...yeah. She’s lovely, if anything, I should say I’m luckily married!”

“We’ve all ended up with people too good for us, haven’t we?” Freddie smiles.

“Sounds about right,” Tim lets himself sit back, and breathe. “Especially with...everything. It’s been lovely overall though; I really shouldn’t complain.”

“Do,” Freddie instructs. “You have my permission, if it helps. We can bitch and whine to each other about things, like we used to. Just not about professors and classes anymore, is all.”

“I might have some complaints left in me about some of them,” Tim smiles, and it’s a delight to hear Freddie laugh. He’d made this harder than it was. “No, no...ah, but like I said. Got the dear wife at home, some kids. I’ve done a lot since we last talked for any length of time, odd jobs-”

“And music?” Freddie looks eager to hear about that.

“Um. For fun, yeah,” Tim mumbles. “I considered myself ‘retired’, if you will, back in 1978. It’s been all TV and films and models and special effects since then.”

Freddie frowns, but nods. “Well, I’m sure whatever you’re doing ‘for fun’ is still fantastic. And I’d love to know what you’ve worked on otherwise, maybe I’ve seen it…”

He lets himself get into a flow with it, but then talking about work is easy. Freddie might not understand all the shop talk, but he listens intently, and grins whenever a project comes up that he knows of.

But the topic only has so long a life, and it drops sooner rather than later. For a few moments, silence drifts over them.

“What about you?” Tim tries again, gently. “I admit, I’ve not kept up close on everything Queen has done, so anything you say is likely new to me! And what about, you know, family and all that…”

Freddie doesn’t look upset. But he’s studying Tim with a very certain look. Careful and serious, his eyes fixed on Tim’s.

“To go over everything we’ve done,” he laughs softly. “That’s a lot, I suppose. I’m proud of it all, let’s say that. Even though we’ve bickered over so much of it, my god, if you could have heard us.”

“I’d have rolled my eyes and tried to break it up?”

“Probably,” Freddie replies with a faltering smile. “I...look. Anything more we talk about…”

He sighs. “Privacy is important, yes?”

Tim nods. “If you’re meaning that you don’t want anything about your life sold to any papers, you don’t need to worry about that. I wouldn’t use them as rags to clean up a mess, much less read them or give them any information about anyone.”

Freddie perks up at that. “That’s a relief. It isn’t that I don’t trust you, or anyone-”

“But you do have to be careful, and that means you can’t really trust anyone,” Tim interrupts without meaning to, the words flowing before he can stop them. “Or at least, you can only trust them so far.”

Freddie nods. “You get it. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Tim says. “I wouldn’t want anyone knowing my business if I didn’t intend for them to hear it.”

“Exactly,” Freddie says. “That said…”

The smile is back, bright. “His name is Jim. I’m lucky beyond words to have him; I can’t begin to tell you. Not that it’s all sunshine, I mean, what relationship is, but compared to what I’ve had before…”

“Night and day?”

Freddie nods. “Ah. No kids, of course, unless you count the cats-”

“I absolutely do,” Tim laughs. “We’ve had our share of pets over the years; I’m certain the wife and kids would get them out of the house during a fire before they’d drag me out!”

“Stop that,” Freddie giggles and shoves at his arm. “They’d get you out; the real question is if you’d be like Brian and John and Roger and be running back in to save equipment and instruments.”

Tim considers it for a moment. “I have to admit it, I might. Some of what I’ve got in the home workshop is expensive, you know. Not as irreplaceable as Brian’s guitar or anything-”

Freddie interrupts him with a laugh. “Nothing is as irreplaceable as that. It truly is, but all the same-”

“Brian,” they say it in one playfully disparaging voice, cracking up at the coincidence.

“You know,” Tim sighs. “I was trying to avoid you, if I’m honest. Not out of not wanting to talk to you! But I was so afraid I’d be bothering you or wearing you out or something; that was silly of me, wasn’t it?”

Freddie nods. “It was, but I get it. I’m not exactly charging for the spotlight myself on nights like this. People come up to me, and I’m fine to speak with most of them. Happy, even! But I’m better here, sitting back and doing something like this instead.”

He tuts, and shakes his head. “Maybe I’m just getting old, hm?”

“Aren’t we all,” Tim replies. “This has been lovely though. I don’t know how much longer I can stay, but if you’d like…”

He hesitates. Maybe this is a step too far. One night of catching up, even with Freddie telling him things so personal, cannot make up for years of not having talked at all. “I’d love to meet up with you again, outside of a party, if you’re comfortable with it. We could have you and Jim over for lunch, maybe.”

Freddie’s smile is soft, but his eyes are bright, and he seems the most genuinely happy Tim has seen him all night. At least, it reminds him of the Freddie met in college.

“I don’t know what our schedule is like going forward,” Freddie replies. “Myself and the band, and myself and Jim, of course. But I’d like that. Let me get you my number…”

They exchange numbers scribbled on cocktail napkins, and Tim has to bite back a laugh. Friends going back as far as college, exchanging numbers like two people in a bar not quite brave enough to just take each other home instead.

But he thinks as Freddie helps him find the exit (“It’s a maze back here, I swear; we can’t have you getting lost!”) that he’s not been so happy at a party like that before. He had a good time; only when he was with Freddie, but still, he had a truly good time.

The cocktail napkin is warm in his hand as he takes it out of his pocket and pins it onto the little notice board at home. Among the calendars and appointment reminder cards and everything else for the rest of the family, is something for him.

A friend, and as he readies for bed, Tim finds himself already excited for their half-planned lunch.

#text post #LeeH writes #staffellweekend2021 #queen band fic

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valkerymillenia · 4 years

Text

Umbrella Academy

season 2, episode 3

Next!

Again, live blogging and posting my reactions all in one post to avoid spamming.

This post got accidentally deleted yesterday so I had to write or all again (twice!)

Oh, starting with a Klaus and Ben 1960 flashback! Ah, Klaus... You have no shame. Let my baby eat though!

Lol "Chanel". Boy knows his fashion, of course.

And there's Boney M playing!

You can practically read his mind when he sees that diamond. Sugar momma alert! 😆

Damn, loving the black outfit, very sexy.

LEVITATING KLAUS WAS BEN LIFTING HIM UP! Seems that one crack theory on the fandom was right 🤣

Ben's face though 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

These two are the best combo. I love them.

61, Baja, NM. Traveling hippie commune.

Is Klaus still sober? He refuses a joint here so I'm inclined to believe that he is but he isn't acting very sober... Then again that might be an act, just him embracing the hippy life.

CALLED IT!!! BEN FALLS IN LOVE, DOESN'T HE?! I FUCKING CALLED IT IN EP 1!

62, Varanasi, India. The river scene from the promos. Yeah, I called this one too. Klaus is already looking seriously uncomfortable and realizing this is getting out of hand.

63, San Francisco. Poor Klaus is practically suffocating under all the touching and nobody respects his space or his words.

Destiny's Children! 🤣 You are such a 90s kid, Klaus.

Run away, Klaus! Run! Escape the crazies.

Ok, let me paused to write out a thought...

So a lot of people were worried about the cult thing and Klaus's intentions but it's clear he had no malicious intentions at all. He charmed and impressed some people for survival purposes and thrived, he enjoyed the love and attention at first and the cult just grew around around him organically whether he liked it or not, more a hippy cult of personality then a religious sect, but at some point he saw that it had gone too far, the pressure and expectation became too much and he realized he'd bitten more than he can chew.

It's actually rather sad how he just wants to escape but the cultists objectify him to all hell, he has no privacy or personal space. The problem with Klaus is that he doesn't do anything mildly, he always goes too big until he's drowning. Boy is already self-sabotaging and I'm sure he's going to start self-destructing very soon as well.

End of thought. Clicking play again.

Ouch! Poor Diego 😰 Lila, that is not how you cauterize a stab wound...

"what happened?" -your dear daddy stabbed you, dude.

Did she really need to strip him so thoroughly? 😏 Yes, yes, she did.

Well, at least she's not sewing you up, Diego. No needles, yay.

"oh, he isn't dead." "Disappointed?" "To see you? Always 😊" -did I mention I love Five's sass? I did? Well, I do.

Old family friend 😆

"you don't untie him?" "Was I supposed to?" Oh Lila, you're adorable, poor Elliot.

Vanya, that is suspicious as hell, just mow down that weirdo!

Ok, good instincts but too slow.

Run, girl, run!

Got to admit, these Swedes are good battle strategy, they are surrounding her surprisingly well.

Is this were the badass Vanya promo was from? Show me badass Vanya, please.

BADASS VANYA! 💖

Ooooooh, very smart, Five!!!

One of the machines though? What are the others for? I'm curious.

Plano Street Rooming House for Solitary Men? That's real depressing, Luther.

It's the "the end is nigh" guy the same that was screaming with Luther in ep 1?

King Kong! Not sure if cute or rude af...

Ahahahah! Luther literally STUMBLING on "Allison" and then acting like an awkward Steve Rogers when the kids call him out 😆 Boy, when will you realize that your obsession is creepy?

Honestly, ALL the Hargreeves siblings can be divided into two categories- sweet awkward dork or sass king/queen, there is no in-between (but Diego and Klaus get to be both).

Convenient that Vanya would just sit there and wait to be found by Five but ok.

"I have a brother?" -honey, you have five (pun fully intended)

IKEA MAFIA! 😂

Nice crop circle, Vanya.

Five just rolls with the amnesia, huh? Doesn't even question it. Ok, then.

Why is Ruby, notorious mobster, sewing sequins? It's it for the dog? I bet, it's for the dog.

"Hargreeves. She your ex?" *Cue Luther's super awkward fumbling* "S-Sorta...Y-Yeah. Sure." - big boy, this is the point where you realize how creepy your crush on your own sister is, time to reevaluate.

KLAUS AND ALLISON REUNION! THEY ARE SO CUTE! 😭💜

Honestly, I need more Klaus and Allison interactions. They have so much bff potential.

*le gasp* "oh, you're married?" 😲 -yes, Klaus, you met him.

"dicks, drugs, debutants. My holy trinity" -ok so everything Klaus says should be taken with a grain of salt but does Klaus still do drugs or not? Considering the evolution of his powers with Ben I'd say no, but we aren't seeing other ghosts harassing him so... Hmm, I need confirmation.

"alternative spiritual community" my ass

Ah, Allison falls into the sass queen category.

Allison can have a little PTSD, as a treat. 😢

Those shoes! Hi, Handler.

Those shoes really are her signature by now. Those heels could kill a man.

Handler as a brunette...? She looks good but I like her bleach blonde.

What did she say to make that boy pee himself?? Damn, Handler, no wonder your kid is a mess.

These dudes need to start listening to my girl Allison, instead of following her husband like puppies.

Great speech, girl! ✊

What is up with that sandwich???

Oh wait, it's Ben right? Klaus is using his powers to get Ray out of jail, isn't he?

Yup, of course he is.

Ben being all sassy and cocky about it gives me life.

"high places" - 😆

Poor Ray, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.

"family barbecues are about to get reeeeeeeal weird" - I'd actually like to see that.

"leave the pot, dear" - you're such an old man, Five.

"any questions?" Five, if be worried if she DIDN'T have questions after all that.

"asteroid impact" -aww 💜 you really do care for her feelings, Five... But you have to tell her the truth sooner or later.

Harlan likes classical music, huh? Good thing he knows a good violinist.

Harlan and Sissy... 😭 My poor heart.

Ouch! What is wrong with you, Lila? You're right but what is wrong with you?

"I can't believe I got shanked by my own father" - can't you, Diego? Really? After everything else that man did to you and your siblings?

"man to man, that son of bitch wouldn't stand a chance" - yeah, he would, he taught you all you know, boy

Not sure if Lila's story is true or not but... I still have that one theory that she was born on October, 1989...

"I don't understand you!!!" - ahah, poor Diego 🤣

Really? Right in front of Elliot's tuna mold?

Man, Handler is really obsessed with Five...

Oh, Luther, you giant puppy...

This is so AWKWARD!

Bonbons, Luther? Really?

Ok, this small talk is even MORE AWKWARD! It physically hurts to listen to this.

The pain in his face and voice when Luther goes "S-so great" 😭

boy, this is the moment you realize it's time to move on, you're not isolated teenagers in a dysfunctional home anymore, let her be your sister and find love elsewhere.

The sit in!

"seven languages" sassy, sassy, I love her.

YOUNG DAVE!

Oh no... Klaus, no, baby... Oh, this is painful.

Ben, don't be mean, let your brothe have this.

What kind of gay man doesn't know what eggshell is? 😆

"is this considered stalking? 'cause I think you're stalking now" - well, BEN, following your brother 24/7 for 15 years can also be considered stalking

Oh no, Vietnam flashbacks... Poor Klaus 😭😭😭

"Vietnam fling"? Ben, you know it wasn't just a fling! Stop being mean.

Aw, Klaus just wants to save Dave... He's willing to sacrifice their relationship to save Dave's life... 😭😭😭

I know Ben is just worried but he could be less mean...

Damn, this sit in thing is really upsetting...

Why is Ray being weird? Is he suspicious of Luther and Alison's relationship? Or is he just unhappy that Allison kept secrets about her family?

Oh Luther, no... Self-harm by proxy is not going to make you feel better.

Oh, motherfucker! That coffee thing was such an asshole move!

Shit, this scene is so well written, the way something so small is making the whole protest escalate to all hell... The police brutality, the parallels with recent events... Disturbing and brilliant and deeply relevant!

Yes! Rumor that motherfucker, Allison!

Oh no, don't be scared of your wife, Ray! Don't be suspicious!

Poor Allison... 😢

Oh Luther, you dumbass... 😢

Lila going to meet mommy, huh?

Oh, she's still wearing Diego's bracelet. Cute.

I know this scene between Handler and Lila was supposed to be a shocking plot twist but after David Castañeda's interview slip up, I already knew.

Still, an excellent scene and very cool surprise.

Like I said before, I really like Lila, I don't trust her AT ALL but I like her.

...

THIS WAS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL EPISODE... Again.

My god, this show gives me life.

#tua #tua s2 #tua s2 spoilers #live blogging #reactions #my phone keeps correcting vanya to baby #and honestly it's not wrong

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tarithenurse · 4 years

Text

Orphan 10

Starring: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader and MCU characters! Contents: Spoilers for Endgame!! Fluff. Yeah, you read that right. Of course, there’s also some pining, worrying, awkwardness, and general feels of all sorts. A/N: So I’m posting this from my new home!! First night here! SoooooooOOOOOOOoooooo*gasp*ooooOOOOOoooo stoked about this, it’s almost ridiculous! Still: previous chapters can be found on the masterlist. Thanks for likes and reblogs and comments <3

10. Protective

After managing the initial formalities and even getting into the car without making a fool of yourself, there’s little left to say. So, Rhodes had left you behind for some work-thing. Why not take Pepper’s offer? I can’t…not yet, though you explain that differently with excuses of any kind. Perhaps Steve realizes the true reason but if so, then he doesn’t push the agenda in an effort to find out which. You are more than grateful, just like you feel a sense of relief that he doesn’t question you about how the visit went.

How did it go? It’s a lot to take in, that’s for sure.

Tony Stark was a man of transitions more than anything. Every time he had faced something new, he’d go in head on and work his way through until he had transformed it, or it had transformed him – into something more, something greater. Flawed, like most other people, it had been easy for him to follow down a path of less than honorable activities. Then he was forced to learn the truth. Afterwards, Tony sought to use all he had to correct the mistakes he had made. Make a difference. Your estranged father had become a hero to the world through his intellect and stubbornness.

Now people who knew him keep saying how alike the two of you are, how many of his features you share. What is anyone supposed to do with information like that? Become someone new like Tony Stark might have done? Or go on, allowing the well-meant comments fall to the ground and shatter as you turn your back?

There are probably more options, but as much as you would like to think it through, analyze the situation, it’s impossible for your brain to follow a train of thought to the end because of the person sitting to your left.

Hyperaware of Steve, your logical and emotional sides are at war, periodically freezing the hordes of butterflies that just will not give up. Each beat of their wings heat your belly and cheeks only for leaden worry to replace it. And guilt.

Consumed with your own turmoil, you do nothing to keep track of the real world until Steve suddenly cuts the engine, proclaiming the destination has been reached. A few stairs up, the lights of the city visible through narrow windows in the stairwell, and on to a front door which the Captain unlocks before offering your to enter first, like the gentleman he apparently is.

Dark hair swings out of the face as Barnes looks up, nailing you to the spot with his icy eyes. “Ohooo, so this’s the emergency y’didn’t want me along for?”

“Bucky.” There’s a hint of a warning barely hidden there.

“Nah, man, it’s okay,” Bucky chuckles, winking jovially, “Wouldn’t wanna be a third wheel anyways.”

Despite the red ears, there’s no warmth left in Steve’s voice now: “James.”

You silently watch a standoff unfold between the blond captain and his friend with the shit-eating grin plastered across his face until, eventually, the cheeky ex-assassin decides to back off to his own room, leaving Steve alone to help you settle for the night.

It’s not a huge place, but from the looks of it it’s perfect for a pair of friends sharing the kitchen, bathroom and living room while having each their own bedroom – at least you did spot a perfectly made bed before Bucky pushed the door shut behind him and somehow you don’t think the two would manage to share a normal sized bed. King size, minimum? Keeping silent, it’s easy to follow Cap through to his room (with a “full”) while he babbles absentmindedly about towels, pillows, and lending out t-shirts for the night.

“– and I’ll keep the light on in the living room so you can find me…I’ll be on the couch…or the or the way to the –“

What he says finally catches your attention. “Wait what?”

“Uhh…light?”

He looks cute when perplexed, you realize and promptly try to ignore. “No the…you’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s no big deal, it’s comfy.” A shimmer of the stubbornness from the standoff a moment ago has returned.

I’ll give you stubborn. “Good, then I’ll be perfectly fine there, thank you.”

A snigger warns both of you before the tauntingly sarcastic voice booms through the wall: “And tHeRe wAs o-oNly onE Be-eD!”

… Clint …

“She’s an adult.”

Even with woolen socks, the man still manages to stomp as he paces back and forth.

“She’s not our kid, honey.”

Fingers tap restlessly against his thigh, itching to dial Rhodes number or to fire an arrow…maybe at Rhodes. Good thing he’s not here.

“Her problem solving’s commendable and…” Laura sighs, trying to hide the roll of her eyes behind a hand before stopping her husband with a steely gaze. “Clinton Francis Barton. Y’listenin’ to me? [Y/N] is an adult and in good hands because she made a smart decision and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But –“ He motions wildly to the phone where the messages still can be seen on the screen. “The plan was –“

Laura isn’t just used to dealing with superheroes. She’s a wife and a mother too, and a faithful partner through thick and thin. For years, she’s been preparing for and handling events like this, and Clint is in awe at her calm. Serenity. Looking at her, he realizes for the millionth time through their years together that she is his rock by which he can secure himself and find steady ground.

A few deep breaths then he can seek refuge in her embrace. “You’re right, sweetheart,” he admits, “it’s just hard not to be protective o’ her. What if’t’d been Lila?”

“Then Lila would have known what to do too.” He can feel her smile as Laura kisses his head. “We’ve got smart kids…all three and a half.”

Silence falls between the adults, allowing the crackle of firewood to prevail – it’s one of those sounds Clint cherishes too much to remove the hearing aids for. That and birds singing. And the sound of wind in grass. For too many years none of those sounds had carried any meaning because the most important of them all were missing: the voices of his family. Even now when the kids are sleeping and Laura sits quietly, he can still hear them or at the very least their living echo.

“She’s not gone,” she murmurs gently.

Magical wife. “I know.”

… Reader …

On a scale from zero (none at all) to ten (the worst possible), the level off awkwardness is steady right about an eleven…maybe a nine if you don’t breathe and move which on the other hand would make it a very uncomfortable experience in other ways. Who’d have thought? To be fair, you did but there’s no way you’re changing your mind now.

Even where you are lying in the darkness, you can feel the heat radiating off of Steve who is lying equally rigid, probably with his hands neatly above the blanket he has insisted on using just so you could have the duvet. At least he accepted you slept with a smaller spare pillow, something you had rejoiced for a moment, foolishly thinking his scent wouldn’t be so overpowering…dude, were you wrong. Careful not to move too much, you squirm until you’re on your side.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks softly.

Duh. “Might help if ya sing me a lullaby.”

The mattress shakes with soundless laughter. “Not sure my taste of music’s…y’know…the right kind.”

“What d’you listen to?”

Awkward minutes turn into peaceful hours as the two of you chat about music, books, anything really as time passes until sleep finally overpowers you.

…

Gnnnnooo…something big and warm is moving ever so slowly, trying to free itself from under your arm and head. In your sleep muddled brain, it only matters that the being equals safety for some reason. But despite the half-hearted whine you still end up alone although the covers are tugged nicely around you, eliciting a semi-pleased sigh from your lips.

A few minutes pass where you try to silence an insistent nagging in the back of your head, too tempted by sleep to want to dig out the bugger. There is a clang of a pot or something on the stove, jarring your mind a bit further. Cooking. The little thought bounces up and down in your spongy brain, already prepping the spotlight for the natural associations. Person…cooking…person. Now the nagging is millimeters from turning into realization in all its shiny glory. Person. Steve.

“Ohshitfuckno!”

Sitting up with a jolt, wide-eyed and hair a mess, everything comes crashing back. The visit yesterday before you called the Captain for a ride. Of course the chat as you both lay there in the dark, pretending and eventually believing it wasn’t weird at all.

“Oh…”

All of it meaning that the person gently pushing you away must have been Steve. Captain America. And you had snuggled him in your sleep.

“Please, kill me now,” you breathe, face hidden behind hands and hair.

“So…no eggs for you?” You can hear the shy smile in Steve’s voice just as clearly as the measured footsteps bringing him to the bed where he sits. “It’s alright, doll…you’re safe here.”

Despite the heat spreading all over your face, you still manage to look at him and return the smile. “I know.”

“Good.” For a moment it looks as though he wants to reach out for you, his hand twitching in the lap but never moving further. “I-uhmm…the Barton’s will probably want you back but…but would you want to visit Banner at his lap?”

There’s a distinct sense of disappointment. Not because you don’t want to check out the renowned scientist’s lab, but because…because what?

Pushing away an unformulated theory, you smile gently. “That’d be awesome.”

“Alright.”

And with that he’s leaving to sort the cooking, only pausing to pull a towel out of the cabinet so you can shower.

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ansgar-martinsson · 4 years

Text

Fair Winds and a Following Sky - Part Two

Seat 7A, Business Class, United Airlines Flight 3300 - Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

Ten years. Ten years, two months and fifteen days. That was how long it had been since Anna Fair Sky had been aboard a plane. As she sat in seat 7A, she felt like a child of that very age. Scared, out of place, downright fearful.

I want my mama....

Last time she’d flown was with her then newlywed husband, heading out of the Will Rogers Airport on a tiny jet to a small, semi-private island in the Caribbean. That flight was torturous - full of turbulence, hard banks, and ultimately a not so soft landing on the impossibly short landing strip. Anna nearly kissed the ground when they’d lit from the jet - and had taken a double dose of Xanax, bought over the counter on the island - for the way home.

But she had no Xanax now, nothing to chemically calm her except the cold glass of Business Class whisky on the tray in front of her. It was her second, no... third drink of that flight, served in a thick-bottomed tumbler, rounded spheres of ice, and just a splash of Evian water to open out the flavor. She wondered, momentarily, just how many swigs of the Scottish elixir she could down before she could pass into a joyful unconsciousness.

As many as it took, and all on the credit card. Not as if I’m going to be home to get the bill, she thought. American Express can go fuck itself for all I care right now. Let Mamma Travidge handle it. Main account’s still in her name, anyway. She can go fuck herself too.

“Nervous?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you, dear, are you nervous?” Anna let out a shaky breath and turned to the voice. In the seat beside her was an older woman, white of hair and wizened of feature, yet she seemed to carry herself with a youthful strength, brought through in her voice as well - high-timbred and powerful. The woman set her book down across her lap and turned slightly in the seat to face Anna.

“A little, I... I suppose,” Anna answered honestly.

The woman shifted her hand, resting her curved fingers on Anna’s forearm. “First time?”

“No,” Anna replied, “I... I’ve been nervous before.”

The woman’s eyes went wide, head cocked and lips pursed in a confused moue, but only for a moment, just for a moment before she burst out in a bark of laughter. “Oh,” she chortled. “Oh, no, dear. No, dear. I meant...,” she covered her mouth, and with her other hand squeezed Anna’s arm gently. “I meant... is it your first time flying?”

“Oh, God, no. No... not my first time flying,” Anna laughed, and the laughter morphed into a moment of half-buzzed realization. “I think I might have made a joke, there.”

“Either that,” the woman grinned and took a sip of her tomato juice, “or you’ve seen the movie Airplane a far few too many times.” She patted Anna on the shoulder, turning back in her seat and lifting her book once again. “Flight’s about half over, I think,” she said, “and it seems you’ve got yourself occupied anyway.” Her eyes flicked between the drink on the table and Anna’s computer screen.

“Oh, that,” Anna replied. “Supposing I do.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” the woman continued, turning a page of her book, “but I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been looking rather moonily at pictures of the same man nearly the entire flight.” She pointed toward the image, a black and white headshot of Anna’s quarry nearly filling the screen.

“I’m...,” Anna clipped. “I’m trying... trying to find him. I mean,” she corrected, “I will be trying to find him once I get to Stockholm.” She narrowed her eyes and closed her computer with a deliberate click. “But, I’m not sure what business it is of yours.”

“None. None at all my dear,” the woman replied factually, book still open.

“Correct. None.”

Anna opened her computer again, re-connected to the in-flight wifi, and re-opened the search page. She skimmed through a few articles, using Google to translate those that were written in eye-crossing Swedish.

“Do you even know who that is?” The woman had set her book back down on her lap and crossed her hands over it.

“Him? His name is... is Ansgar Martinsson,” Anna replied.

“No,” she said, “I mean, do you know who that is?”

Anna groaned inwardly, and once again closed her computer. “I guess not. I suppose you’ll tell me.”

The woman continued, unfazed by Anna’s display of irritation. “Not a man to trifle with, I tell you,” she bent toward Anna, her words sotto voce, a whisper, barely heard over the thrum of the engines. “He’s a bit of a shark if you ask me.”

“How... how do you know this?”

“That’s why I asked you if you knew who he was. He’s famous, you know, in Sweden, in Europe. Gossip column fodder. Shows up on the pages of those crap rags now and then, and sometimes on the cover of business magazines.”

“So, he’s a businessman. I kind of got that from the....” she pointed vaguely at the computer, “the articles, and stuff.... what I was able to read, at least.”

“My son works for his company,” the woman said. “We’re from Missouri, St. Louis, you see, but my son moved to Ostermalm, that’s in Sweden too, you know,” she interjected. “Anyway, he moved there to take a job with Martinsson Construction as an architect. I’m going there to visit David... David is his name... I’m going to visit David and his family for the summer.”

“So,” Anna intoned, “Ansgar Martinsson is famous because he owns a construction company?”

“Not just a construction company,” the woman’s chest puffed up a bit, “the construction company - this huge international conglomerate thing. He builds opera houses and civic buildings and universities, just about everything -- he even designed and built almost all of the newer IKEA stores. He’s like... he’s like the Elon Musk of construction, only better looking and less... well, weird.”

“Hm,” Anna said. “I suppose I still don’t understand why he....”

“Come on, my dear,” the woman’s lips curled in a wry, crooked, tight-lipped grin. “Just look at the man,” she said, gesturing toward the screen. “He’s quite charming. Gets out in society, goes to all of the best parties, even throws some himself now and then. He rubs elbows with the rich and famous, knows everyone... and I hear,” she added, “he’s newly single and ready to mingle.”

“S-single?”

“Yes, this is the sad bit, though, this bit here...” the woman gosspied, “his wife... she left him, some sort of traumatic, terrible thing... at least that’s what I heard. And when she did, he went missing. Missing, I tell you! Gone! Poof!” she splayed her fingers, demonstrating. “Gone for about a year and a half, maybe longer, I can’t remember. No one knows where he was or who he was with or what the hell happened to him.”

“Oh?”

“Of course his family wouldn’t talk, and his company people, well... they were tight lipped as ever, don’t you know. My son was worried for his job nearly that whole time! It was in all the papers, all the online blogs -- so much speculation, so many conspiracy theories.... Where is Ansgar Martinsson?” She made little ersatz quotes in the air. “One paper even reported that he’d been kidnapped and tortured by terrorists. Another said he’d been taken by aliens, but I doubt that very much.”

Anna shook her head. “Oh, I doubt that too. The... the alien bit.” She inhaled sharply, ground her teeth together and looked away - collecting her thoughts, her fears, and the increasing, swirling maelstrom of confusion and... and...

...and regret.

I know where he was....

And maybe I don’t belong where he currently is.

Wnat the hell am I getting myself into?

Words like “society” and “famous” and “businessman” and “traumatic” clanged around in Anna’s head. The walls of the plane squeezed inward confining her, the seat a great bear trap, cramping her in place, teeth digging deeply into her flesh, tearing at her spirit. No turning back now. She snatched at her glass of whiskey and downed it, immediately raising the empty in indication to the passing air steward.

The storm in her spirit and the deluge of spirits in her blood made her head ache, made her dizzy, even a bit sick. Thoughts of the Travidges invaded, clouding those of Alan... Ansgar. Was he really like them? Would he treat her the same way? Was she on a thousand-dollar one-way debt-shattering flight halfway around the world only to be dragged into the same feelings of disassociation, of abandonment, of lonliness?

Of... rejection?

“You said you’d be looking for him? When you get there, is that right? Like, physically trying to find him?”

“What?” Anna blinked, the woman’s question drawing her out of her reverie. “What did you say?”

“I asked,” the woman said patiently, “you’re going to be looking for him... in Stockholm, yes?”

“Well,” she sighed, shrugging, “that was sort of the plan.”

But now I’m not so sure....

The woman nodded sagely. “I won’t ask you why, dear. I’ve stuck my nose into your beeswax enough for one flight, but I can tell you what I know. Maybe... where to find him.”

Anna shrugged. “His office, right? He’s probably there all the time. I could just go there and talk to him.”

She shook her head emphatically. “Oh, no,” she said, “they have security in that place tighter than Fort Knox. No way in hell you just sidle up into his office.”

“Then... then where?”

“My son told me... David, he told me that Martinsson is kind of an odd duck you know... has his ways about doing things,” she said, “but I suppose a lot of Swedes are like that. Really private and all. Don’t even really like to talk to their neighbors. Can’t even talk to one of them on a flight... but they do like one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Swedish folks... they love their fika.”

“Fika?” Anna squinted, nonplussed. “What’s that?”

“Coffee break. I suppose that’s the best thing to call it,” the woman said. “It’s... it’s something the Swedish just... do. It’s pretty important to them... and I hear... my son tells me that he... that your Martinsson fellow there... he takes his coffee break, his fika, at the same coffee shop and at the same time every day when he’s in Stockholm.”

“He goes to a... a coffee shop?”

“Sure,” the woman said. “No one bothers him, apparently. Like I said, the Swedish don’t molest each other overmuch. They don’t like all that chit chat... that small talk with strangers don’t you know, and if someone is sitting at a table alone they’ll just.... you know leave them be. I mean, Brad Pitt or that hunky George Clooney could be sitting in a Swedish coffee shop and no one would even think of approaching them, taking their picture or otherwise.”

“Do you...” Anna blinked, smiling blithely at the woman beside her, “happen to know where that is? That coffee shop where Martinsson takes... takes his fika?”

The woman smiled back. “Would I mention it if I didn’t know?”

#fair winds and a folloiwng sky

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loserholland · 5 years

Text

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞

𝟎𝟏𝟑 ➺ 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

Pairing ➺ Ceo playboy!Ben Hardy x Reader

Warning ➺ flashbacks and sad benny boy ):

Word Count ➺ 2,560

Summary ➺ An arranged marriage between two polar opposites.

A/N ➺ A new series! So after watching BoRhap I instantly fell in love again with Ben Hardy who plays Roger Taylor! Message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!

Send me your thoughts, feelings, everything! It makes me day/night!

Also send me your theories! Love reading them! TEEHEHHEH

Also we are slowly drawing to an end to this series and it makes me sad that this series will soon end AH! MY HEART!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @hollandfieldblurbs , @beerbottlesandchainsaws, @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine, @spideyyypeter

❁ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❁ - @financialinstability, @magicwithaknife , @xrumkugelx , @rogertaylorsblondhair, @hollyissuchahoe , @yourkindabrainy-ilikeit, @fsociety00da1, @lee-519 , @2ptonpt, @sherlokiantheatrenerd , @local-radical-bandit , @calumfornicationx , @softcillian, @kittysblog14 , @peach-barnes , @prettyoddbarnes , @spideyyypeter, @adepressedstudentslife , @wowza-bowza , @stilesneedsprotection , @anamcg317 , @indescribxbl , @heinz-doofenshmirtz-official , @loveofmylifeben , @captainxmoony , @whateverbakesyourcake , @waving-thru-a-window , @benhrdy , @beerbottlesandchainsaws , @frietjemeloen , @kirket03 , @emmieliabedelia , @sabbrriiinnaa , @justinemayi , @bummmblebeee , @wolverinesbeer , @allieburakovsky , @chocolatekisses8 @i-the-fangirl, @ksqueenie , @secretsweetscollectionblog, @virtualsheepeat

☞ Masterlist ☜

There are five stage’s of grief.

One, Denial. In which your mind is thinking this didn’t just happen, this isn’t happening to me.

Two, Anger. Why is this happening? Who’s to blame?

Three, Bargaining. Wanting to exchange the pain, wanting to numb it.

Four, Depression. Locking out the people who you hold close to your heart. Not wanting to let anyone in.

Finally, Acceptance. Finally accepting the death of a loved one, or a close friend. Finally coming to terms that they’re watching over you and is in a better place.

When it come’s to break up’s, the stage’s are the same. And boy did Ben go through these like hell.

After he found Presley cheating on him, he was in the stage one. Denial, not wanting to come to terms or accept the fact that his girlfriend of four years had cheated on him. A month later, he had lost his father to a heart attack. They had tried to do a triple bypass but his heart was too weak to take it.

All Ben wanted to do was lock himself in his room and ignore the world. He had left Frankie to his mom, thinking it was better for his mom to have some sort of company.

Stumbling into his penthouse with a bottle of whiskey in his hand brining the half empty bottle to his lips taking a swing of the brown liquor unbothered by the small burn it left in his throat. His eyes fell on a picture that was on picture that was hung on the wall.

Taytum and Ben’s two year anniversary, they were standing under the eiffel tower smiling from ear to ear at one another. At that time he was happy, so fucking happy. He knew he was gonna marry that girl, she brightened his day like no one else could.

He picked it off the wall staring at his for a second before throwing it at the ground, glass flew in every direction continuing he picked off every photo of the two throwing it in every direction.

A scream ripped through his chest as he threw his bottle of whiskey at the wall, he ran his hands through his hair tugging at his lightly before dropping to his knees. He looked around his dark empty home scoffing lightly before staring back up at the ceiling.

“What more can I lose?”

That’s when he turned to going to the club, having one night stands to boost his ego, blocking out his emotions. Using the one substance that would numb the pain temporarily and left you with a huge headache of regret. At that time he saw no meaning to life, no reason to live or go home to.

Until his mother introduce him to (Y/N). She was the person to bring him back to life, to be the light and guide him to happiness. (Y/N) gave him a reason to live for, not only because he had to due to being signing a contract, he truly slowly and genuinely fall in love with her.

Even if he loved her, he still cheated. Running back to the person who broke him in the first place, letting his old flame burn him twice leaving an even bigger scar. When (Y/N) had told him they were over, and gave him back her engagement ring, the scar had burned even more. It was like when you had scrapped your knee, and to clean out the bacteria you use hyrdrogen peroxide and holy fuck does that shit burn.

Now he was back at square one, back at the same place he was after the death of his father and Presley. He had to pick himself back up again, he has to put himself back together and earn (Y/N) trust, earn her forgiveness. Because without her, he had no reason to live.

(Y/N) laid in the hospital bed her injuries we’re all that serious, a few minor scratches here and there. She had her laptop propped on her lap, papers scattered around the bed catching up on some paperwork that began to build up in her office. There was a small knock on the door brining her attention away from her computer screen, the nurse walked in holding a vase of flower’s.

They were an arrangement of roses and sunflower’s, she knew who had sent it someone she had requested to keep off the visitor’s list, from the one and only Benjamin Jones.

The sound of his buzzing phone woke him from his slumber groaning from the small headache forming and one hell of a hangover he’d have the next day. His hand rummaged over the nightstand in attempt to find his phone before the called ended.

“Hello?” he answered groggily burying his face into the soft pillow cased sheets awaiting for the person to answer.

“Hi, is this Mr.Benjamin Hardy? This is Ana from Mount Sinai Hospital speaking, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was in a car accident and you’re one of her emergency contact’s. How soon could you be here?”

Ben sat up quickly running his finger’s through his hair tugging at the roots lightly, unsure if he heard the woman correctly, his mind began to cloud, his heart rate began to pick up as worry coursed through his veins.

“Mr.Hardy?”

“I’m taking the first flight out.”

The moment Audrey saw Ben’s face in the hallway, she couldn’t help but scream and slap the man that she thought would be the light in her daughter’s life.

“Leave Benjamin!” Audrey shouted tears streaming down her face as Andrew tried to hold back his wife from hitting their ex-son in law, she pushed her husband away.

“Leave or I’ll have security drag you out.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit, he deserved it. He deserved all the hitting and shouting from Audrey, but all in all she didn’t want to push him away. He did fly nearly 3,460 miles to be by her side, but he lost that privilege the moment she caught him in bed with her sister.

She wanted him to visit, she wanted to accept his flower’s and chocolates, she wanted him by her side. But she didn’t want to hurt herself all over again. Just the thought of Ben made her heart clench in sadness, she wanted to forgive him she truly did. But she questioned if she could after what he had done.

Though the one person, the last person that she’d want to have in her room. It was like she was the devil reincarnated to ruin her own sister’s life.

“Hi.”

(Y/N) shut her laptop closed removing her glasses from her nose and averted her eyes to meet her sister’s, she stood nervously in the doorway shifting from one foot to the other.

“Why are you here?” She was aware of her rude tone, but all in all she did deserve it. After putting her through hell and back, Presley deserved to be bitched at.

“I just want to talk, please?”

I mean, she did say please. “Five minutes.”

Now we all must be questioning, how did the relationship of (Y/N) and Presley, sister’s who were each other’s best friends change. It all changed after many many events.

The young seventeen year old descending down the stairs rubbing the sleep out of her eyes wanting nothing more than a cup of water for her parched throat. Her parent’s were unaware of her presence as they talked about the future of their company, who will be CEO when it would be his time to go.

“Usually, it goes to the first born.” Presley came to a halt moving closer against the wall to listen to her parent’s conversation, her mind wandered to why they were talking about whom would be CEO, when she turned twenty-one she’d earn the COO position. Something she’d been working for nearly her entire life.

“Well, why does it seem as if you don’t want Presley to take over?” her brows furrowed in confusion on why her mother would ever ask that question, Andrew did want Presley to take over the company right? I mean she did have a right to have it in her name, she was the oldest.

“It’s just, have you seen the way she’s been acting lately? Coming home late nights, partying-” She stood there for a moment waiting for her father to finish his sentence, the name that would leave his mouth she knew who he wanted to take over.

“I think (Y/N) is a better fit.” Presley’s stiffened against the wall her grip on the glass tightened, anger and envy ran through her veins. They’d really choose (Y/N) over her? The rightful heir to the company? The person who worked her ass off for acceptance from her family that she was the best and would always be the best?

She quietly stormed back up to her room, once she got in the glass that was once in her hand was thrown against the wall as she screamed loudly. The rooms in their house were sound-proof so her parent’s wouldn’t hear the fit she was throwing.

A photo caught her eye, it was of her and (Y/N) standing in front of Big Ben they had spent Presley’s sixteenth birthday in London. One of her favorite memories with (Y/N), she grabbed the frame staring at the image before her. Silence filled the room, her grip on the frame loosened as she aimed for the wall watching the glass shatter to pieces.

It had been a week since Presley walked into her parent’s conversation, she had gone to visit her father for lunch walking happily into the office ignoring the staff’s pleads of “Your father asked for no one to disturb him.” or “He’s busy right now.” all the pleads went in one ear and out the other. She gripped the door knob of her father’s office flying the door open to see her father and his secretary, the image before her was not PG-13.

Ever since that day she found out her father was having an affair she held it as leverage, she held it above his head and never made him forget what she saw let alone what her heard that night she had gone to get a glass of water.

“How does this relate to anything you did to me?” (Y/N) questioned in anger watching Presley slouch in her seat, “I’m getting to that part.”

Ryan Cruz, he was the boy that (Y/N) fell head over heels for. Well he did the same, he saw (Y/N) as the most sweetest girl in the world. How she’d be so confident to talk to him, leaving him to be a clumsy mess, stumbling over his words which made her giggle. Presley knew how much (Y/N) liked the guy, let alone she knew how much he liked (Y/N).

All she wanted to do was make her sister suffer, make her sister fail so that her mother would agree with her father about Presley being fit for CEO. Andrew had talked to Audrey about having Presley as CEO, only because she had threatened him that if he didn’t she’d tell her about his affair that has been going on for a year.

Presley (Y/L/N) was filled with surprises, she was truly the devil reincarnated to ruin everything she touched. That night she had brought Ryan home, she did the unexpected wanting nothing more but to hurt her sister, wanting nothing more than for her to feel the pain she felt. All Presley wanted was for (Y/N) to feel the pain she felt growing up in the shadow of her little sister, odd right? It should be the opposite, but oh how the tables have turned.

She had roofied Ryan’s drink, when he was dazed she had convinced him that she was (Y/N). Her plan was going as planned, stumbling into her home taking (Y/N) by surprise, it boosted her ego when she saw the shock and sadness paint her little sister’s face. At that moment she didn’t care that (Y/N) was hurt, she didn’t care that she had just broke her sister’s trust. All in all she didn’t care.

“Oh c’mon (Y/N) be a big girl, after all you’re gonna have everything handed to you, why are you crying?” Presley pushed Ryan off of her watching him stumble to the ground as she stalked over to her little sister. She gripped her sister’s face in her hand staring into her little sister’s sad (Y/E/C) eyes.

“You took everything from me (Y/N), now it’s my turn to take everything from you.”

In which she did take everything from her.

That everything was Ben.

Yes. I understand she had him first but she did lose him, and took him away from her. Keeping her promise she made nearly ten years ago.

“I just want to apologize, I want to say I’m sorry for making your life hell, I’m sorry for blaming you. I- I don’t know what came over me, I’m truly sorry (Y/N) for everything.”

(Y/N) scoffed lightly, unsure if Presley was genuine or not. She was unsure if her sister was still wearing a mask to hide what she truly felt inside, after ten years she didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not.

“Presley, this is the difference between us. First off, I knew about dad’s affair and told mom yet you to black mail dad! Second, nothing is handed to me. I work hard for it, I worked my ass off for the COO position. So the fact that you think you can walk back into my life after ruining my engagement, and promising to take everything from me, you think I’d forgive you?”

Presley sat there in silence unsure on how to answer her sister’s question.

“You hurt me Presley, you made it your life’s work to take everything away from me. After what dad said, you spiraled out of control instead of just getting your head back into school! To you everything is a game, well hate to burst your bubble Pres but not everything is a fucking game!”

(Y/N) pinched her nose bridge taking deep breath’s in and out, coming to the realization that her father didn’t mean to hurt her. Presley was just always using that secret as leverage, he didn’t want to hurt his daughter. No parent wanted that, he didn’t want to tell his daughter that she needed to take some time off and focus on herself and not other’s.

It’s like when you yell at a child who swore, they don’t know any better. But Presley was old enough to know better, she was old enough to know what was right from wrong, wrong from right. The thing about Presley is, she was all for herself, if there was a fire she’d save herself, it was as if the world revolved around her.

She finally locked eyes with her sister, the person who had made her life a living fucking hell. Their relationship went to shit after Presley overheard her parent’s conversation, the trust that they had broken when she brought Ryan into their home roofied and the memories that she smiled back on gone the moment she promised to take everything away from her.

“And this apology, this apology is ten years a little too late.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy au #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #loserholland #loserholland elite

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americaswritings · 5 years

Text

Cinderella | Part 20

Prompt: Fairy tale AU

Summary: When your father marries another woman, she brings not only two evil stepsisters into the house, but turns you into a maid. Working hard day for day your only hope is the princes ball, where he will pick his future wife. But will you be able to flee from the claws of your family?

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: none

Pairing: Steve x reader

A/N: This is for @ruckystarnes writing challenge.

I am literally the worst for making all of you wait for so long...I know....SORRY!

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Your knees were shaking when you entered the palace again, but Steve who squeezed your hand gave you the confidence you needed. This one time you wouldn’t run away.

“We’ve got this”. Steve whispered and you nodded, both of your faces filled with huge smiles.

You saw the crowd in front of you, a cloud of laughter and words. Some people turned around, shivering at the cold nights air that had gotten in when you had entered.

When they saw the prince they stilled, watching him with curious eyes. More and more people recognized the prince’s figure, waiting for enough silence for him to make an announcement.

Surprisingly it didn’t take long for the room to fall silent, everyone was staring at the two of you with piercing eyes, waiting for the prince to say the words that they did not want to hear.

“What are you doing?”, you heared someone gasp and turned your head to the side. It was the king, who marched over to the two of you in quick steps.

“I want to declare my decision”, Steve spoke confidently, ignoring that all eyes were locked on him.

“We haven’t discussed your choice yet”, the king panted, glancing to you next to his son.

“Well, there is nothing to discuss. This is my life and my decision, so if you excuse me I don’t want to make everyone wait any longer.”

Steve’s voice was steady and demanding, but not unfriendly. You wondered what the king wanted to discuss.

Maybe you were not pretty enough in his eyes. Or not wealthy enough.

You pushed these thoughts to the side and focused back on the man next to you, who was now turning his eyes to the crowd.

“I am sorry for the delay”, he started, a polite smile on his lips. “First of all I want to thank everyone for attending the ball. It was a pleasure to meet you and I hope you had a good time.”

You glanced to the people, a familiar face catching your eye. It was Wanda, who was trying her best to stand straight and keep a steady face while you could see she was overwhelmed with joy.

A grin stole its way on your face, but you gave it your best to remain a proper expression and quickly glanced away.

“Now I want to proceed by announcing the lovely lady (y/n) as my new queen.”

No one had ever called you a lady before. But it felt good, somehow.

A wave of applause and cheers erupted and you blushed.

“Thank you. All the detais concerning the wedding will be aired soon. Now please return home safely.”

The crowd clapped again before it started to fall apart, people starting to leave into different directions.

Only now you realized that you had no clue what to do, so you glanced to Steve in expectation.

“I will bring you to your chamber, don’t worry”, he reassured you and you nodded thankfully.

Suddenly you heared a familiar voice, calling your name. Turning your head, you saw Wanda making her way over to you.

You pulled her into a hug, and she giggled. “You will marry the prince”, she whispered into your ear, but there was no trace of jealousy. Rather she sounded truly joyful.

“I am so happy for you”, she squeaked and you laughed. “Thank you”, you smiled and broke apart from her, so you could look her in the eyes.

“For everything, really. You did so much for me. Without you I would still live in my cage.”

Wanda smiled gently, before pulling you into another hug. “But don’t you become a smug princess!”, she grinned, and you laughed. “Never!”

“And don’t you think you will get rid of me that easily. I will visit you as often as I can”, she grinned while playfully poking your arm.

“Oh trust me I will probably be bored as hell, so you are welcome every time.”

Wanda smiled at you again, before she turned around to return home.

“You’re going to be bored, huh?”, Steve smirked while stepping back next to you. You watched him with amused eyes.

“Trust me, I won’t let that happen”, he smirked while he began guiding you to your chamber.

“Is that a threat?”, you asked playfully, trying to keep in pace with Steve while admiring the parts of the castle you hadn’t seen yet.

“I would rather say that is a promise”, Steve laughed and slowed down, noticing that you had trouble following him.

His eyes were sparkling with amusement and joy while he looked at you and you couldn’t help but think how happy it made you to see him like that; carefree, just joking around and not thinking of the burden on his shoulders for a moment.

You would do your best to give him more moments like that.

After Steve had showed you your chamber, which was enormous, he had left, saying that you needed to rest.

You knew that he was right, but your mind was still too overwhelmed with everything that had happened.

Tomorrow you and Steve would visit your home to take the little belongings you had. You would meet your stepmother and sisters for the last time and although Steve would accompany you, you still felt a little scared.

But the thought of seeing them for the last time was calming. It would help you to put an end to your old life and begin again.

But then there was also your father. You did not want to leave him, but there was no chance that he would agree to live on the court as well. Your last meeting had given you the hope that maybe he wasn’t as lost as you had thought, but you knew that you couldn’t hold on to that.

As much as you loved your father, you knew that he wasn’t the same person anymore. Your mother’s death had broken him in a way, which was hard to understand, if you hadn’t experienced it yourself.

And although you had lost your mother as well, it was different. He had loved her in a way that you would soon love Steve and just thinking about this death made your heart start to race.

A world without him just felt- pointless.

But the comfort of the blanket and the bed reminded you that he was here. And you were with him. If you needed him, he was only a few doors away, he had told you that himself before saying goodnight.

Both of you knew that it would take a while for you to put everything you had experienced behind you, but until then you knew you wouldn’t be alone.

It was the thought that no matter how bad your dreams would get or what would happen tomorrow, you still had Steve and that was everything you wished for.

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Marvel: @iamwarrenspeace @embrace-themagic @mbsgr@fairydustparker

Steve Rogers: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @part-time-patronus @patzammit

Cinderella Tags: @sydthekid1518@100kindsofblake @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @its-forevermore @lobathenerd @lostxsea @aquietkerfuffle@frackinawesomeninja @startled-seastar @metal-armed-dino@farfromjustordinary @snuggleducky @quinn-n-quill@wildestdreamsrps @loputresa@koizorahana@radtwinkie @tchallahollabookgirlunicorn @thekeyfortherainbow@orangesherbert06 @hip-peter @hannah-stilinski@hereiamhereigo @hell-kt@themadragedydoctor@frozen540@sofipatey @silentwhispofhope @drunkinthemiddleoftheday@marveltrashaddict

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #cinderella #cinderella series #marvel cinderella #cinderella fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #steve!prince

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drunklander · 5 years

Text

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 405

MURTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH

The end.

Y’all I haven’t fangirled about an episode of Outlander this much since season fucking one. And can I just say, I fucking missed this feeling. I missed this feeling so fucking much. Comparing this episode to the ones with all of the book dialogue awkwardly crammed in makes me really hope they start throwing the book out the window more and more, and instead just do whatever they want in order to tell a good story.

AND I JUST FUCKING LOVE MURTAGH OK!

PETITION TO LET CLAIRE HAVE FRIENDS WHO DON’T MURDER PEOPLE/GET MURDERED!

Just the mutual respect between Claire and Adawehi gives me the warm fuzzies.

Adawehi: “She is here. No, not in your heart, woman. I mean actually here. Like physically here. Yes, I know you find it comforting to think your daughter is always with you in your heart, but I’m telling you, she can also literally be with you, like in your house.” Claire: “Yeah, it’s really too bad I had to leave her, but at least she’s here in my memories...” Adawehi: “You’re killing me, lady.”

JOKING ASIDE ADAWEHI DESERVED BETTER AND I LOVE HER AND MUELLER IS THE WORST.

Gerhard, not Robert.

I love the white sow with my whole heart.

LOOKIT THESE DOMESTIC FRASERS WORRYING ABOUT HATS AND JERKY.

I’m laughing at Jamie so hard for thinking that Scots are just going to jump at the chance for free land...that ties them to the English government. Like bro, some of the Scots in North Carolina actually give a shit about what the English did to Scotland. And don’t immediately get in bed with them, (especially when it’s common knowledge that they cheat and steal from people) and become the sort of people they fought against.

It’s like Jamie and Claire were like hmmm, our only two options are to move to Boston where we’ll be right in the middle of the revolution or become the colonizing/occupying force we fought against in Scotland. And the rest of the Scots are like nah, bro.

OH HEY JAMIE, WHY YA TAKIN’ THAT CANDLESTICK?! TO GET A RING MADE PERHAPS??? *fangirling intensifies*

“I love bacon.” Same, Young Ian. So much same.

Lady Boner for Frontier!Beauchamp.

Oooh, we’re doing Jamie’s visions are we?

I really do appreciate them doing damage control after last season including Jamie thinking of Bree this season. And I love how ever since Claire came back to Jamie, Bree is still a constant presence in her life. And she continues to live with the cost of her choice to return to Jamie.

Y’all Claire lost her parents. She left Uncle Lamb when she got married. She lost Frank woohoo! when she went through the stones. She lost Jamie after Culloden. And she lost Bree when she went back to Jamie. She’s never really had all of the people who are important to her with her all at the same time. AND IN A COUPLE OF EPISODES SHE WILL AND I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT! I SHIP CLAIRE AND HAPPINESS AND SHE WON’T FULLY HAVE THAT UNTIL HER WHOLE FAMILY IS TOGETHER AND GUYS I HAVE FEELINGS.

Nice hat, Roger MacSeedot.

Miss Baird: “I can see she broke your heart.” Me: *recaps the last couple episodes* Miss Baird: “Actually, she’s better off without you. You’re kind of the worst. Good day to you MacSeedot. I SAID GOOD DAY.

Just noticed that this pic that was tweeted about Wilmington is actually Woolam’s Creek. Lulz.

Ok is this lady flirting with Jamie only supposed to be setting up him telling Bree that he’s a married man? Or else, like, what’s the point? We know Jamie’s not going to cheat on Claire? If this is supposed to be like the Mme Jeanne fake out then hard pass, show.

“That’s a very impressive offer. But you see, the English fucked up our country. Our families. Our lives. And now they cheat and steal from us here, all the way across an ocean. Rent or no rent, I still have my principles.”

“Did six farmers just refuse the offer of land given without charge?” “There’s no sense in it. Except that it makes them obliged to the English and, you know, as Scots we sort of don’t like them very much. So really I have no clue why they’d turn me down.”

Yo, I fucking love this change, tbh. Jamie’s a dumbass, but I’ve thought that about show!Jamie for a minute now so... Bahahaha. Bro. Rock on, farmers.

“Savages! They steal our water for their horses!” Y’all Mueller is the literal worst. But him being fucking awful, doesn’t mean Jamie and Claire are off the hook for also being fucking colonizers.

But seriously. Gerhard. You are a fucking monster.

“They have no reason to set foot on MY land!” Fuck ALL the way off, bruh.

Claire’s like “Please! I know they’re the literal worst and you’re literally just watering your horses on your own damn land, but please change your behavior to accommodate a racist af colonizer!” Which like, good on her for trying to deescalate the situation, but putting it on the wronged party to change to accommodate the white aggressor still isn’t a good look.

“Water belongs to no one.” Y’all this show claims not to be political, but making this conflict about water is relevant as fuck to the present. (For those who don’t click through to what I link, that’s a profile of the Standing Rock water protectors.)

This episode is really doing a lot to try to frame the Frasers as “good” colonizers. (Look! They make friends with their Cherokee neighbors whose land they’ve stolen! They’re trying to learn the Cherokee language! They respect the knowledge of Adawehi! They know Cherokee customs!) And the Muellers as “bad” colonizers. (This is our land! They shouldn’t be here! Fuck what they’re actually doing, I think they’re cursing us and therefore must murder their witch!) But show, let’s be real. Just like the “benevolent slave owner” is bullshit, the “good” colonizer is also bullshit.

Gerhard Mueller is an unforgivable piece of shit, but that doesn’t mean the Frasers are in the right.

Rollo the body guard is adorable and I 100% want a blooper reel of just him fucking up and Balfe being like OMFG DOG.

Claire tiredly flopping onto the bed is A FUCKING MOOD.

Y’all the Leoch music as Claire does the homestead chores gives me so many feelings. It meant she was starting to feel at home in Jamie’s time and is now signifying her being at home in the place they built together AND I JUST WANT MY BABY TO BE HAPPY OK.

For real though, I fucking love the white sow.

White Sow/Clarence 2020

Claire nudging Rollo out of her food is relatable af. *side eyes my cat*

Claire’s “good morning, ladies!” to the goats is my fucking everything. Also, pretty sure one of the goats is named Persephone and the person who posted this just didn’t know how to spell that. High five for animal name twins! I should get my cat a goat friend...

Claire drinking and being like oh this is gross and then drinking more anyway is also A Mood.

“’Tis my land after all.” Jamie says it in relation to the English. Mueller says it in relation to the Cherokee. Again trying to show a difference between the two, but *looks directly into the camera.*

MURTAGH MOTHERFUCKING FITZGIBBONS FRASER Y’ALL

Lol, I love that in the closed captions, Murtagh’s lines are noted as “Smith” before he turns around. Like we don’t recognized that crotchety voice.

Y’ALL I AM SO FUCKING HAPPY THAT MURTAGH IS BACK.

Oh look, rando flirty woman is back. *hums Say No to This to self*

OMG THE LOOK ON MURTAGH’S FACE WHEN HE HEARS JAMIE’S VOICE IS LIKE THE SAME FACE THAT JAMIE MADE WHEN HE HEARD CLAIRE’S IN THE PRINT SHOP AND I AM SO FULL OF FEELINGS YOU GUYS

YES, HUG IT OUT, GUYS! *JOINS IN THE GROUP HUG FROM MY COUCH* I’M JUST SO HAPPY.

"I’m sorry. Citronella died. They got measles, but at least there were no mosquitoes.”

Gerhard Mueller is totally the sort of person who would shoot up a mosque or synagogue because of some bullshit, racist 4chan conspiracy theory. Entitled white men haven’t evolved at all in the last 200 years...

Yas, Claire, work that gun...

(gif source)

The way Jamie’s face lights up when Murtagh says he can do a bit of silversmithing though.

Y’ALL MURTAGH IS TOTALLY GONNA MAKE CLAIRE’S NEW RING AND THAT ANON I GOT TOTALLY CALLED IT AND I AM 1000% HERE FOR IT OMG YAAAS, SHOW, YAAAS.

Murtagh’s face when he thinks Jamie remarried is amazing. And Jamie sending Young Ian away when Murtagh asks if he married again is hilarious because like “Dude, please don’t blow up my spot about Laoghaire when I haven’t been able to fanboy with my godfather about my time traveling wife yet. And I need to fanboy about my time traveling wife with her literal #1 fan.”

*waits impatiently for Murtagh’s reaction to the Laoghaire marriage news*

For real, his reaction to that is going to be fucking aaaaaaaAAAHMAZINGGGG.

Y’ALL I WANT A CEBRF FANDOM WAR BETWEEN MURTAGH AND YOUNG IAN OVER WHO STANS CLAIRE MORE. “I regularly put my hands in other people’s body cavities for her!” “I’ve been stanning her for twice as long as you’ve been alive, laddie!”

THE CLAIRE ELIZABETH BEAUCHAMP FAN CLUB’S FOUNDING MEMBER IS BACK AND YOUNG IAN BETTER RECOGNIZE.

LOOK AT HIS FACE WHEN JAMIE SAYS THAT CLAIRE CAME BACK! AND HE FUCKING *KNOWS* WHAT THAT MEANS! HE FUCKING PRAYED FOR HER AND HER BABY FOR YEARS AND TO KNOW SHE’S SAFE AND BACK WITH JAMIE AND HIS SHIP REALLY IS ENDGAME AND I’M JUST SO FULL OF HAPPINESS.

Da!Jamie bragging about his kid is endearing afffffffff.

*again side eyes how she was treated in ep. 306*

Ok, but I love that Murtagh doesn’t just like up and change his whole life to rejoin Jamie. It’s been a long time. He has his life. He loves Jame and he loves Claire, but just like they had changed, so has Murtz.

“We’ve had trouble finding tenants.” “Yeah, no shit. Come, Jamie, let me school you.”

Murtagh in a kilt and bonnet while Jamie is in breeks and a tricorn. Murtagh rousing the Scots against the thievery of the English and Jamie trying to get them to become indebted to the English. Which one is truly keeping the spirit of Scotland alive in North Carolina?

I’d bet money that the piece of tartan Murtagh has pinned over his heart is the same piece he’s had with him since Ardsmuir.

Mueller can fuck all the way off with his “we deserve to live because we believe in God” crap.

It *is* their land you fucking piece of shit.

The scene with Mueller when he brings Claire Adawehi’s scalp got me so fucking heated because there are so many white men in this country today who share the same/very similar beliefs to him in regards to various minority groups or people they see as “Other.” Fuck each and every one of those men.

Claire’s funeral for Adawehi is very moving though.

#AdawehiDeservedBetter

You brought this on yourself, Herr Mueller. Good riddance.

But Frau Mueller, yet another woman who is the collateral damage of the shitty actions of men.

Rollo is the least intimidating guard dog ever.

HE REMEMBERS HER SONG AND IT’S LIKE THEIR LITTLE INSIDE JOKE AND HE DOES HIS LITTLE DANCE AND HER FACE AND HIS FACE AND GUYS I AM SO FULL OF FEELINGS AND I LOVE THE TWO OF THEM SO MUCH AND GUYS I AM SO EXCITED FOR MURTAGH TO BE AGGRESSIVELY #TEAMCLAIRE WHEN HE FINDS OUT ABOUT LAOGHAIRE AND FOR HIM TO MEET BREE AND EVEN FOR HIM TO MEET WILLIE AND GUYS THEY SAVED MURTAGH AND I LOVE MURTAGH AND YOU DID A GOOD THING, SHOW.

Ok the letter that Bree left for Roger makes him look even worse for going after her tbh. Like he wasn’t supposed to see it for a year and it was like clearly an “open if I’m dead” thing so like he knows she clearly is intending to come back. But instead of listening to her, he off and does what he thinks is right instead. Which means he’s learned *nothing* since the proposal. Fuck that guy.

Roger really is Frank. He wants a marriage like Frank and Claire had pre-stones. Where it's all about him and what he wants to do and the wife is just along to support him in that endeavor. *gestures at episode 101* Between reading the books again and watching this season, Roger really is the worst and I don't think the show will do anything that comes close to redeeming him since *gestures at how they wrote Jamie last season* so at this point I ship Bree with her damn self. She doesn't need a man to live her fullest life. Especially one like fucking Roger.

Bree is too good for Roger and this is the hill I will die on.

But y’all! Bree’s gonna get to be with her mom again! And meet Jamie! And look hot af in period clothes! AND MEET MURTAGH!

*focuses aggressively on that instead of Rape and Rogergate*

GUYS MURTAGH IS BACK!!!!!!!!!

#*#outlander starz #outlander 4x05 #drunj!der yells about outlander

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avenging-fics · 7 years

Text

Breathe ~ An Avengers Story (14/15)

AU Summary: Y/N comes face to face with the enemy by herself.

Notes: im not the best at combat scenes so bear with me im still trying to find my way okay? tell me what i can do to improve. cool? but yeah this story is going by fast. :)

Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

MASTERLIST

“A tracking device?!”

Fury closed his eyes and sighed. He knew this conversation with the Avengers will end up in yelling and threatening. It was inevitable.

“So she was already in the index even before she had powers?” Tony asked. “What the hell, Fury?”

“Agent Y/L/N was not in the index. She was just a person of interest under observation. I appointed a former agent as a background caretaker. Someone to watch over her.”

Natasha stepped forward and asked, “And Agent Johnston hasn’t contacted you at all since Y/N’s disappearance?”

Fury shook his head. He looked at the screen in front of them and saw the signal coming from Y/N’s tracker slowly fading out until there’s no signal left. The tracking device was deactivated. No doubt by force. They have to assume that Y/N has been taken. And that Sergeant Johnston is eliminated.

“We have to go save her.” Steve told them with so much determination and impatience. What are they even doing meeting up and talking right now when they could be out there looking for their missing comrade.

Y/N

“We don’t have a signa—” Tony muttered but he was cut off immediately.

“Then we start looking at the place she was last seen!”

Nick Fury stood up and cleared his throat. “Captain Rogers, you are putting your team in a risky situation if you go straight head on at the enemy that you know nothing about.”

“We know enough.”

“No you do not.” Fury told them. He activated the holograms in front of them and showed the team what SHIELD has on Dr. Lud.

Bruce stood forward and read the files in front of them.

“Emir Sead Lud. A HYDRA bio-technical and electric scientist. Him and his wife, a theoretical and experimental physicist, created PROJECT Icarus which enables human experimentation that provides abilities for air maneuvers and flight without the use of technology. Since their combined theories made them use gravitonium and metallic elements, the result didn’t give the subjects abilities to fly. Instead, they were given—”

“Gravity manipulation on objects that have metallic atoms. The initial hypothesis didn’t work but it produced a similar result.” Tony added. He shook his head. To think that Y/N was subjected to this kind of tests. According to the records in front of them, there were about 25 human subjects and only Y/N survived. That’s where Emir figured out a way to stabilize the serum for PROJECT Icarus. He needed an inhuman for the abilities to come out.

Captain Rogers stepped forward and crossed his arms, “That still doesn’t answer the question on why SHIELD made Y/N a person of interest. Did you know she was inhuman even before?”

Slowly, Fury nodded. “Her family has been on SHIELD’s radar for quite a long time, Rogers. Back when we didn’t even know inhumans existed.”

“Wait, so…why her family?” Banner asked, looking as confused as everyone else in the room.

“Have you heard about the bombing of Pearl Harbor?”

******

Her eyes shot up, wide open when she felt something drip down on her finger. It was from a broken pipe on the ceiling above where she sat, tied down to a chair. Looking around her, Y/N deduced that she was in a dimly lit and slightly damp basement. She couldn’t see much but from what she can make out, Y/N was sure that the cages around the room were splattered with blood.

Where were they?

The blond young girl who had a sweet voice and reeked of destruction. The girl who had the same powers as her.

And Emir.

Where was he?

Y/N grunted as she tried to move against the thick ropes bounding her to the chair. There was no use.

She tried focusing her abilities on every metal object in the room but she was too weak. Her powers wouldn’t work. Something was stopping her.

“As a scientist, one must prepare a sort of antidote that can counter the effects of the experiment he or she is trying to accomplish in case it backfires. A self-destruct button, I might say.”

The voice came from someone coming down the stairs and into the dark room. With enough light, Y/N saw the aged face of her old friend. Emir.

He was smiling. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to explode. You’re way too valuable for that. Your powers are useless for now since I’ve injected you with this.” he held up a small vial containing an amber-colored liquid. “It’s to counteract the effects of gravitonium, dispersing the atoms garnering them useless. After a while it wears off, yes. But for now, you’re just another pathetic human.”

“Emir, what are you doing? This isn’t what you want.” Y/N looked at him and shook her head. “Tessa wouldn’t want this.”

His face contorted into an angry grimace, gripping the vial around his fist tightly and taking loud deep breathes as he walked closer to Y/N.

“You. Do. Not. Know. Anything.” he sneered. Then with one fist, he threw a solid blow across her jaw, making her groan and bleed. Emir turned away and ran his hands through his hair. When he looked back at Y/N, there were tears in his eyes, evident, even within the room with little light.

“Tessa had so many dreams. She was from Bristol. She wasn’t Bosnian like me but she loved this country as much as her own. And to think that it went through a lot of evil and terrible things. Well, it pained us both.” he said, a slight waver to the tears in his voice. “Our home wasn’t as beautiful as we thought. It was full of lies and deceit and HYDRA controls it all! I cannot let any more of that happen!”

“You are foolish if you think you can take on HYDRA alone. They will kill you even before you can even fire the first shot, Emir.”

That’s when he looked at Y/N and chuckled. Humor wasn’t in it though. It was malice.

“Who said anything about destroying HYDRA?” he asked, stepping forward again. “I’m taking over it. I will be the next head and with this,” Emir took out a small pocket watch from his jacket and showed it to her. He threw it down on the ground and stepped on it, crashing the antique into pieces. Then he bent over and picked up a small flashdrive among the broken pieces of the watch.

“This, ” he continued, “will bring light to all of Bosnia-Herzegovina’s dark past with HYDRA. I will take back my country and make it more powerful than anywhere else. It will be a stronghold for all of HYDRA. It will be impenetrable and it will be a world power.”

It was madness. Emir has lost his conviction. His grief over the lost of everything he had took over his mind and made him resolute to destroying those who destroyed his life. It was by blind rage that made him like this. And he has been living like this ever since that explosion in Sarajevo 2 years ago. The pain and heartbreak this man must have felt all those time.

“Emir, I am so sorry.” Y/N whispered softly, hoping to bring back even an ounce of the goodness of the man he was before. The compassion, the kindness. But there was none of that when Emir glared back at her words and sneered.

“You…” he growled, clenching his fists, “You were the only success in our experiment. Our solution to creating a breakthrough in the world. A world where a person can harness the power of flight. Think about it. How many crimes will be solved? How many lives will be saved? Hoe easy life will be if there are chosen people among the world who can fly? And better yet, your results have proven to be greater than Tessa and I hypothesized. It’s a masterpiece, Y/N. Why have you ran away and hid this from the world?”

“Because it is dangerous, Emir! This kind of power will be destructive when given to the wrong hands.”

“And you believe you have the right ones?” he smirked, turning around and walking towards the dark corner of the room. Flicking a switch on the wall, lights suddenly turned on and made the rest of the place distinguishable. And it was terrifying.

Y/N was in the middle of a room that had hospital beds, monitors and machines around them. They were in a laboratory and an observation facility where they monitor patients.

But the patients were dead and blood filled the bed sheets.

Y/N shuddered at the sight.

“I tried recreating the formula we used on you. It didn’t take me that long even if all my research were destroyed from the explosion. But what did take time was figuring out how you survived it when the other test subjects died from PROJECT Icarus. Many test subjects died once more in this very room. However, I was approached by a man who told me that HYDRA can give me protection and information that can help my research be a success. And I knew that Tessa would do anything for our work to be finished. To be successful even if we lost everything once already. I wasn’t giving up. And I certainly don’t mind the army of HYDRA agents willing to do my bidding.”

Y/N stayed still and listened carefully. Who was the man Emir talked to? And what sort of information did he give Emir that led to this?

“As it turns out, you have a unique DNA. Out of this world, as the man called it. You’re an inhuman and the Icarus serum only worked on you. But I wasn’t finished. I looked for more answers and found that the younger the test subject was, the more likely it will develop abilities even greater that yours.”

Suddenly, the door opened and the same blonde girl in all black with the singsong voice entered. She was carrying a large box and when she put it down on one of the tables, she did it very gently as if something inside was as fragile as glass. Or a bomb.

Y/N eyed the box and tried to focus her powers on it. She failed. The antidote she was injected with still kept her from using her abilities.

“This is Lianne. The next survivor of PROJECT Icarus right after you. She’s only 16 and her abilities so far are stronger than yours.” Emir stood next to the girl and showed her off like a trophy. It was sickening. Many people died just for her to receive abilities that will one day be more dangerous that anything.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. I look forward to working with you.” she spoke with her tinkling voice and a sickeningly sweet smile.

Y/N sneered at her, “I am not working with any of you bloody criminals.”

Y/N watched as he stepped backwards and whispered something to Lianne. She nodded back and walked towards her, kneeling down to untie the ropes that bind her to the chair. When all of it was off of her, Y/N was free and Lianne stood in front of her.

“The antidote wears off in about 15 minutes, Y/N.” Emir informed them as he looked at his watch and stepped backwards towards the door. “If you’re not joining me and my mission, then you are a threat that needs to be eradicated. Let’s see who’s the stronger Icarus then, shall we?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold.

“Don’t worry, she won’t use the metal in your blood to freeze you up. That would be the coward’s way out.” He chuckled, “And we are most definitely not cowards. After all, we’re fighting an Avenger.”

Nevertheless, Y/N sat still in her chair even after being freed. Based on the information that Emir gave her, Lianne was supposedly more powerful then her. It was uncertain to how much the difference is between the two. And that gave Y/N her moment of panic.

Suddenly, Lianne lunged forward and dropped a blow to Y/N’s jaw. The force of it so strong Y/N wasn’t ready for as her chair fell back to the ground with her. Y/N stared at the young blonde girl wide-eyed at her strength. This was a fight she would be having extreme difficulty especially without her powers against someone who had more. Smirking down at her, Lianne pushed Y/N beneath her and gave her a beating, all the while enjoying it. Punch after punch to her jaw, her face, and she didn’t stop until a small trickle of blood dripped from Y/N’s mouth. Lianne stood up, towering over Y/N who was struggling to breathe with the beating she just took.

Taking the advantage, Lianne focused her powers and slowly the surgical knives from a table in the room levitated and pointed towards Y/N’s body. With a flick of her hand, the knives flew forward, stabbing Y/N’s limbs as she laid on the ground.

“Aargh!” Y/N felt the burn of every single blade slicing her flesh and every drop of blood oozing from her wounds. It was hopeless. Without her abilities, Lianne has the upper hand and it would be over for her. Emir would win.

Y/N was not backing away though. She would stop them as long as her heart still beats and air still flows. Even if she dies tonight.

“Do you mind doing the honors, Dr. Lud?” Lianned asked sweetly at the man watching the scene.

Emir chuckled as he crossed his arms. When Y/N heard him, and when she noticed that he was enjoying this, it pained her more than the knives. This was her friend. And he was lost in his mind with grief, it made him demented. He got too close to the sun.

Slowly, Y/N stood up, groaning and moaning silent sobs as she pull out the blades one by one. Lianne and Emir watched in awe and extreme shock at what she was doing. Y/N was in no shape to be moving, let alone be standing on her own. Y/N put every ounce of anger and rage in her glare towards Emir. Her light brown eyes almost seemed black and empty like the void. It was terrible.

Panting as she ignored her bleeding wounds, Y/N growled. “Project Icarus is a failure.”

Lianne’s face contorted into an ugly sneer as she grabbed another knife and rushed forward. She thrust her knife towards Y/N’s throat but it was stopped by a hand holding onto her arm. It was Y/N’s.

“You and I are failures even if we survived, Lianne.” she told her.

“I do not fail, you bitch.” she hissed. Then using her free hand, Lianne went for a stab wound in Y/N’s shoulder. But she was too slow.

Y/N used her foot to break Lianne’s balance, making her the one to fall down. Moving as quickly as she can, Y/N straddled over her and used brute strength in her blows to give back Lianne the beating that she gave her. And it was faster. Lianne’s punches were heavy but messy whereas Y/N used strategy and quick beating motions, giving Lianne no chance to refocus her powers so she couldn’t use them against her.

All of this entertained the poor twisted mind of Dr. Emir Sead Lud, who stepped forward from corner of the room, watching his experiments destroy each other. Wondering who will come out alive.

“Ungh!”

Y/N stopped her fist midway as Lianne groaned even more louder than before. It was taking its toll on her. The small pretty and innocent face of the blonde was gone. Covered with a mix of her own blood and the blood dripping from Y/N’s wounds. Y/N saw the girls eyes and it haunted her.

“What are you waiting for, Sanguine?”

Y/N looked up and didn’t notice Emir already standing close, towering over as he waited for the big finish.

Emir nudged his head, motioning at Lianne, “You’ve clearly won. You’re the better Icarus.”

Y/N looked back down at Lianne and shook her head. For some reason, Y/N wanted to cry.

And she did.

For the first time, Y/N let herself go as she teared up in front of the enemy, which she didn’t even want to kill. The feeling of victory wasn’t welcome especially when she had to step on someone in the process. All of the emotion caged over the years inside of Y/N was let out by the tears that blurred her vision as she looked down on Lianne’s bloody face.

“I only wanted to help you and Tessa with your research.” Y/N sobbed, slowly pulling herself away from Lianne and standing up to Emir. “After my mission in Sarajevo, I found Tessa and I wanted to help her. By being a test subject, yes, but I had the utmost confidence that you two would succeed that time. I was prepared to die, Emir.”

“You did not. But I thought you did. In the explosion.”

“I thought you did, too. I guess we were just too scared to look under all the rubble.”

Emir pursed his lips and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. Lianne started to move and slowly she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Emir.

She croaked, “Dr. Lud, I—”

Then Emir puled out a pistol from his coat and shot a bullet through Lianne’s head, unwavering as he watched the blonde girl eye’s lose their life. Y/N stared at him, appalled at what he did.

Emir just killed Lianne. His ally. His experiment. Why?

“Her statistics showed that her enhancements and abilities far surpasses yours. That was a major miscalculation on her part. Lianne didn’t use the full extent of her power. She’s young and an amateur. And she certainly underestimated you.” he dictated, motioning at the dead girl next to Y/N’s feet. “I have no use for failures. And I’ll make absolute sure that that mistake won’t happen again.”

That’s when a baby’s cry was heard throughout the room. Y/N looked around her, confused as to where could it possibly be coming from. Suddenly, her senses washed over her all at once, overwhelming her body as her abilities came back. The antidote’s hold was gone.

And Y/N’s head turned towards the box that Lianne was carrying when she came in the room.

“What did you do to that child?” she asked, feeling immense compassion for the baby as she thought of the many horrible things Emir must have done to it.

Emir shrugged, “PROJECT Icarus subject number 301. That child took the last of the treatment. When he grows up, and he will grow up under my control, we’ll be able to take his DNA and create an entire army with abilities much like yours. Along with the stronghold of HYDRA in Bosnia-Herzegovina, I will be invincible.”

“You monster.” she breathed. What happened to the kind scientist that Y/N knew?

“No.” he said, “I just make them.”

Comments? Critiques? Concerns? Send them in! :D

Tag list:

@animexchocolate , @seninjakitey , @barnesandnoble13 , @goldwanderer , @anotherotter , @lefandomimagines , @merrahonthawall , @independentgirl , @angelinaisherewhoop , @travelwithwords , @mrssierrarogers , @pottergirlpotterworld , @capandbuck , @chevycastiel1967

#avengers x reader #avengers au #avengers one shot #avengers fic #avengers imagine #mcu x reader #mcu au #mcu imagine #mcu one shot #mcu fic #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

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scarletwitching · 7 years

Text

Vision and the Price of Repeating the Past

Disclaimer: This post has spoilers for the recent Vision solo series, won’t make much sense if you haven’t read said series, and gives away the ending. If you haven’t read it, you should get on that. Now onto the 2 A.M. meta...

Tom King and Gabriel Hernandez Walta’s Vision series is about a lot of things. It's about the constraints of Suburbia, the pain of being Other in that environment, and the sacrifices of parents to make that life for their children. But it's also about repeating the past, and by extension, it's a metacommentary on being stuck in the superhero loop. There are plenty of stories about what it means to be a superhero in the archetypal sense, what it means to be a superhero in the broader culture, but Vision stays closer to home, to what it means to be a superhero in cyclical Big Two comic books.

There is a saying about superheroes, that they always return to the status quo. This means Steve Rogers can be a werewolf one month and then go back to being just Captain America the next, his fundamental nature unchanged. It also means characters tend to repeat the same kind of stories. No matter how far they go, they can't escape their origin stories. King shines a different light on this truism of superhero comics by framing it as a form of repetition compulsion. He turns it into a coping mechanism for Vision's unprocessed trauma. Vision returns to an old story, but something feels sinister about it this time.

Vision starts with its title character having recreated a very specific scenario: that of Vision & the Scarlet Witch volume 2. That of a wife and two kids in East Coast Suburbia. This is the site of Vision's trauma, both as a person and a character. The story goes like this: Vision and Wanda had two kids. They lived in Suburban New Jersey. Everyone was very happy. Except for Marvel writer John Byrne who hated Vision, so he deconstructed Vision, literally and figuratively, and got rid of the kids. Then Vision's original creator Roy Thomas showed up to do damage control, but it was Too Little Too Late. Then Vision got stuck in a loop of "idk, maybe this?" where writers weren't sure what to do with him so they made him a detective or killed him off or had him be weirdly self-confident for no reason. He was still technically the same character -- even Byrne's all-encompassing deconstruction couldn't fight the power of the status quo -- but he was never really the same.

So why go back to the situation that created all that trauma and inadvertently caused Times He Was a Detective? Well, because people are weird, and no matter what Quicksilver thinks, Vision is a person.

It would be easy to say Vision just wants to go back to the point where he was happiest, but there is something darker underlying the decision to create a new family with a new Wanda and new twins: Vision wants to reshape the origin of his trauma into something he can control, and by controlling it, prove his power over said trauma. This is repetition compulsion. It's an attempt to find safety and power in the very place that made him feel unsafe and powerless, but like I said the last time I talked in depth about this book, "healing doesn’t come from returning to a poisoned well and repeating the past will only hurt you more."

And all of this does hurt Vision more. It goes horribly wrong. His old life comes barging in in the form of Simon Williams' brother Eric and the end result is disaster. The attempts to cover up that disaster by Vision's wife Virginia only make things worse and worse. She and Vision are both invested in maintaining a facade of normality and happiness, and the decisions they make in order to do that cause their problems to metastasize. There are a lot of messages and lessons you can take from Vision, but I think this is the best one: Trying to cover up or deny your problems only makes them grow. They become more and more unruly, requiring more and more effort to keep them hidden, until they finally explode.

Deal with your shit or it will deal with you. Mafia style.

The price of Vision's attempt to recreate the past is the life of his wife and son. It would have meant consequences for Vision too, if Virginia and Wanda hadn't protected him from his choices. The price of their decisions is that Vision ends up right back where he started: making a new NEW wife.

Vision Vol. 3 #12 by Tom King & Gabriel Hernandez Walta

Like much of this book, the ending is creepy. It proves Vision didn't really learn anything from this horrific experience, but that isn't a surprise. Vision says he doesn't want to learn anything from it, and Virginia and Wanda's love for him protects him from having to.

Wanda: Vision, you have to know. We – you and I, we’re different than all of them. I know you. You know me. Only we understand that. Everyone – they just stay the same. But we – we are constantly finding the new. We are forever being redone. Reborn. Redeemed, V. But this. If you do this – Agatha has tasted the flower. She’s seen what’s coming. This – You kill him, you can’t come back. You’ll be like everyone else. You’ll just get worse. Everything will just get worse.

Vision: I’m so sorry, Wanda. I do not think that you understand. That you ever understood. I want to be like everyone else.

Vision Vol. 3 #11 by Tom King & Gabriel Hernandez Walta

As perceptive as Wanda is, she's projecting here. We all see ourselves when we look out at the world -- how can we not? -- and Wanda is seeing herself in Vision. She's trying to convince Vision that he is as fluid in nature as she is, but Vizh is made of more rigid stuff. He may have been a detective for a while, but he didn’t go the Wanda Maximoff School of Never Being the Same Character Twice. He is a Virgo, after all.

Part of the reason characters always return to the status quo is that that's how fans want them, but no one wanted Vision to return to Vision & the Scarlet Witch volume 2 sans Scarlet Witch... except for Vision. Vision can't have Wanda anymore. She is long gone, done moved on. But he'll settle for someone like her. He'll definitely settle for someone who is both like her and like him.

[This is the part where I digress to talk about Virginia and the fact that she has Wanda's brain patterns. Here's the thing: I didn't like the idea of Wanda giving Vision a copy of her brain so that he could make a person out of it, any person, but especially a lover. Now that the book is over and I've had some time to think about it though, I feel differently. I think the key to understanding Wanda's thought process here is realizing a few things:

Wanda is one of the few people who can fully appreciate the Simon/Vision divide. She knows both of them intimately and understands they are not the same person. Therefore, she knows that whoever Vision makes with her brain patterns will not be her either. The same way that liking chess and jazz music doesn't make Vision Simon, Virginia may like riding horses and listening to Shukar Collective, but that doesn't make her Wanda.

Wanda knows Vision has trouble connecting with others, and having someone who is both like him and like her would make that easier.

Simon refused to offer up his brain patterns to fix Vision after he was dismantled, and that was A Big Deal to Wanda.

Wanda believes in Vision's fundamental goodness and knows he understands what it's like to be a synthetic human better than anyone.

Also, she, like, loves him. That's a thing too.

So it makes sense that she would trust him with this, but I think she's missing how damaged his trauma and the decision to erase his previous feelings, which she couldn't have predicted when she copied her brain, have left him. Because Vision is not a good husband to Virginia, and that's a big part of why everything goes so wrong.

/digression]

Returning to Vision's previous situation in a way he wants but the audience doesn't helps highlight how uncomfortable and unnatural this return to the status quo really is. Because you can go back, but it's not the same. That's not Wanda, and this isn't a happy scenario. Vision must, on some level, know it's not a happy scenario, but the pain of the past is, at least, familiar. You know what you're getting.

Not moving on is cowardice, but it's also essential to superhero comics. That tension comes out in Wanda's confrontation with Vision. We – you and I, we’re different than all of them. / I do not think that you understand. That you ever understood. I want to be like everyone else.

I have a theory that superheroes exist on a continuum between specificity and fluidity. On the one end, you have characters who tell the same story over and over again. Those characters have a clear-cut, obvious, simple premise. They are easy to explain, but they are limited. On the other end, you have someone like Wanda, whose nature is constantly in flux, who sort of has a status quo but not in the same way as the others, who is hard to pin down and with whom you can tell a myriad of different stories.

The middle point is the sweet spot. It's the Batman spot. It's the place where you can tell the maximum number of stories and still have the character be recognizably themselves. That's (a big part of) why Batman is the world's biggest superhero. And also because Batman has Catwoman and Catwoman is the fucking best.

What the ending of Vision represents is the power of The Loop and the tendency to get stuck in one story and never get out. But this is superhero comics where anything can happen and Magneto once fell in love with a robot version of Wanda. The ending from this one creative team won't necessarily reverberate forever and ever, amen. And King has read enough comics to know that, in the context of the broader universe and Vision's history as a whole, this ending doesn't mean what it means within his individual story. But as a commentary on The Loop? It's eerie perfection.

#the vision #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #tom king #gabriel hernandez walta #meta #comics meta #written by me

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thegloober · 6 years

Text

How We Learned to Finally Stop Fighting About Money

The curves on the Taconic Parkway create enough tension as it is, but my wife and I were adding to the drama with a heated discussion about finances. I glanced into the rearview mirror: the kids, five and three, stared at their iPad screens with eyes locked in even as their little heads swerved back and forth from centrifugal force. I steered left, then right, hurtling home from another weekend in the country. “So let’s write it all down, make a budget,” my wife pleaded.

No, I insisted. Writing it down, making a budget wouldn’t work. Or, rather, it’d require too much work. I wanted ease, a positive checking account at the end of the month. In my mind, if she’d make better decisions — maybe eschew the expensive sweater in favor of the thriftier version — we’d be in the black, instead of scuffling to pay the latest preschool tuition bill.

I did not relay this calmly.

Here I was, badgering her again. When we met, I was a divorced homeowner with a fairly lucrative magazine-editing job; she was a single restaurant marketing employee with barely enough salary to get by in a shared apartment. I knew what I was getting into and so did she: I’m 11 years older than her, not as exciting of a character as the bad-boy chefs her age that she gravitated to in the past. But we loved one another.