bring the war home

grimfiendfyre  asked:

Continuing my headcanon that Lance's mom uses cheesy pick up lines on his dad throughout their 30+ years of marriage, imagine after the war when Lance brings home Keith (his fiance cause they are going to get married, fight me) Lance's dad sees Lance using a chessy pick up line on Keith who is blushing like crazy as Lance leaves to go talk to his mom. And Lance's dad just goes up to Keith and puts a hand on his shoulder and is like "I know how you feel, it's easier to just accept your fate now"


anonymous asked:

Cassian surprises Jyn by asking her to fake being his fiancee to get his fanclub off his back. Jyn tries to enjoy as long as it lasts not knowing that Cassian is doing the same. Any headcanons?

i’m placing this in the canon universe because can you imagine?

  • so cassian is a pretty hot commodity around the rebel base. he’s got that tall, dark, and handsome thing working for him mixed with the mysteriousness of being an intelligence officer. basically, half of the new recruits that come to the rebellion wind up having the hots for cassian (can we blame them, honestly)
  • that’s BEFORE he comes back from scarif, having helped provide the rebellion with priceless intel. cassian’s a hero with a rather intense fanclub made up of pilots and soldiers searching for something outside of war and death to focus on. he gets it, sort of. 
  • but it gets to be a little much after the fifth time a new recruit slips him a note with the combination to their bunk. cassian’s just blowing off steam to jyn one day when it slips out:
  • “if they thought i was married or engaged or something, maybe they’d leave me alone, y’know?”
  • “are…are you asking me to…?”
  • cassian wasn’t, really, but now he’s thinking about it – it would be sort of perfect. after all, as kaytoo has mentioned, something like a third of the base thinks they’re already dating (a fact that cassian tries not to think too hard about)
  • “would you?” he asks
  • jyn pauses for a good thirty seconds and cassian definitely wants to take it back because she’s the closest thing he’s got to family and he doesn’t want to lose – “yes,” she says, “for you, i would.”
  • they figure telling bodhi, baze, and chirrut will get the news circulating the fastest, and it works. by lunch, people are congratulating them. kay says there’s a 36.8% chance that one of them will die before the wedding and princess leia personally offers best wishes
  • cassian tries really, really hard to ignore the warmth that blooms in his chest when he introduces jyn as his fiancee and the way his heart speeds up when jyn grabs his arm while they’re walking to and from meetings
  • he was right: his fanclub doesn’t bother him anymore, but now there are other things getting in the way of day-to-day life. namely, jyn erso and that little smile on her face whenever someone brings up their “engagement”
Types as Things My Upstairs Neighbors Do At 3 AM

INTJ: Waterboarding their enemies in their interrogation room
ENTJ: Botching a peace treaty with the rival gang across the the hall
INFP: Fifty Shades of Gray scenes
ENFP: Having an orgy with a barn full of animals
ISTJ: Building an indoor skatepark
ESTJ: Reenactment of the Civil War
ISFP: Bringing home all the shelter dogs
ESFP: Opening night at their in-home strip club
INTP: Blowing up their kitchen meth lab
ENTP: Impromptu bowling using metal chairs as pins and a tube tv as a ball
ESFJ: Drowning all of the neighborhood children
INFJ: Hosting an intervention
ENFJ: Taping a reality tv show
ISTP: Breakdancing in brick shoes
ESTP: Shredding the indoor skatepark

heatherlanntheclever  asked:

Is there any chance of a happy ending for the Lannisters? I know they are awful people but why develop their motivations and give each of them a genuine moment of compassion if they are just going to murder each other? Every other POV gets a moment of truth/redemption why not the children of Tywin/Patriarchy/Aerys and Disability? I'm a bad person myself so I need to believe the Lions can defy themselves and prophesy and overcome their nature or what's the point? Not all of us are born Starks.

Hey! So it’s gonna take me a few minutes to answer your question, but I promise I’m gonna get there.

In one of the other shows I watch, an actor commented on the banality of evil. He said that evil is something commonplace. Given the right circumstances, great acts of evil could be committed by your neighbors, or your friends, or you, or me. Because evil is so easy. “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” You needn’t be a monster like Gregor to commit evil; you need only be human. 

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I just noticed the parallel between Rumple and Gideon...

Rumple became the Dark One in order to save Bae and bring the children home from the war. He was doing dark deeds for what he thought was a just cause, and it was, but the dark deeds didn’t stop there. Gideon wants to become the savior to free the Dark Realm from the Black Fairy. Rumple knows it won’t stop there, and that’s why he’s trying to keep his son from going through with it.

anonymous asked:

I tend to think that Qui-Gon realised that his and Obi-Wan's partnership was meant to be the day Obi-Wan brought back a Pathetic Lifeform of his own. Like say it's chucking it down on some world where they are and Obi-Wan hears this pathetic mewling and it's this sodden cat and he keeps it close to him all day (inside his robes, maybe inside his hood like he's seen Qui-Gon do to the PLs) and Qui-Gon lights up when he sees what Obi-Wan has brought back to their quarters

Qui-Gon: Sounds fake but okay ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Obi-Wan: Master NO

His Padawan’s learning. He’s so proud.

No Brother Left Behind

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

I am in love with this concept art piece for the Bad Batch arc (I seriously can’t stop staring at it), so I kinda had to write something to go along with it.

     Rex walked down a hallway to the medbay, oblivious to the men hurrying past him and the urgent shouts echoing from the hangar. All he heard was a voice. A low, monotone voice repeating the same phrase over and over again in his head.

     “CT-1409… CT-1409… CT-1409…

     Even in death Echo could not be quieted.

     But Echo isn’t dead, Rex told himself. He couldn’t be. Tech said the signal transmitting the ARC trooper’s voice was live.

     While General Skywalker reported to the Jedi Council about the signal Tech discovered, Rex decided to visit Cody. He needed someone to talk to right now, someone to listen to the invasive thoughts gnawing away at his insides.

     He knew the explosion at the Citadel should have been too much for anyone to survive. However, Echo was both tough and stubborn; he’d hang on to life until he was certain his job was done. Must be a Domino trait, Rex figured, thinking of Fives and Hevy. But the amount of pain Echo must have been in… that he might still be in…

     Rex was right outside the medbay doors when he had second thoughts about visiting Cody. Kix would be there with questions about the rest of the mission, and Rex wasn’t up for discussing it with anyone but his closest friend just now. The next best option was to be alone, so he continued past door and circled back around to the hangar. The transport Crosshair stole was still parked at the end of the landing strip, unnoticed by the countless clones jogging back and forth, relaying and fulfilling orders. Rex put his helmet on and walked calmly through the chaos, confident no one would stop him.

     It only took him a few moments for him to familiarize himself with the controls before he guided the transport away from the landing strip and up out of the canyon, stopping right at the top of the canyon walls. He left the transport behind, walking further and further until he could barely see his ride through the thick, blocky trunks of the local flora.

     “CT-1409… CT-1409… CT-1409…

     An image of Echo’s burnt and mangled body being dragged away by unfeeling Seppie clankers suddenly seared itself in Rex’s mind. Rage boiling in his stomach, he balled his fist and punched the nearest tree, grunting in frustration. Pain splintered through his hand, but he pushed it aside. No brother left behind. Each clone knew that was the number one rule of battle. But they didn’t even think to go back and check Echo’s body for a pulse.

     You couldn’t afford to go back and check, a voice in the back of his head reasoned. Rex turned and sank to the ground, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree he just bruised his hand on. We needed every single second we had to get out of the Citadel alive, he reminded himself. A ray of light broke through the clouds as they glided across the sky. Sunlight filtering through the coral treetop above tinged his battered armor a pale orange. The mission comes first. Echo knew that.

     Still, Rex couldn’t shake the guilt. Alive or not, Echo had been turned into a weapon against the Republic, against his own brothers. Rex knew too well how it felt to be used like that. He needed sleeping meds from Kix for weeks after the fiasco on Umbara. All of Torrent Company did. And nightmares of that night continued to plague him to this day.

     He rested his head in his hands, elbows propped up against his knees. Rex had to admit–if only to himself–that despite being bred for battle, the war was beginning to take a mental toll on him. First Umbara, then Ahsoka’s leaving, Fives losing his mind, and now Echo back from the dead… More and more often he found himself wondering if the victories would outweigh the losses in the end.

     “CT-1409… CT-1409… CT-1409…

     As he heard Echo’s voice in his head again, Rex grew angry, this time at his own pessimism. He got to his feet. Sulking around feeling sorry for himself would do nothing for Echo. What Echo needed now was action. Rex was going to the Skako system, with the Council’s permission or without it. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he simply moved on. He took a few steps away from the tree, facing toward a patch of light breaking through a cloudless stretch of sky in the distance. The curly tendrils growing from the almost luminescent treetops shivered in the faint breeze.

     “Hang in there, Echo,” Rex said softly, casting his gaze over the horizon. “We’re bringing you home.”

Bring ‘Em Home, part 5

Part 4


**Vietnam War!AU/Soldier!Dean

Tagging  @sammysgirl1997


You continued to go over to Sam’s house every Tuesday and Thursday to help Dean with his therapy. Thankfully, nothing further was said about what you’d almost let slip. And, surprisingly, Dean stopped with the self-destructive comments.

Every time you visited, Dean was getting stronger. Sam told you that he complained less about pain and discomfort with the prosthetic.

Your feelings for Dean also got stronger with every visit. You would always talk yourself up on the way over, saying that you wouldn’t fall deeper, and then chastise yourself on the way home for not listening.

You dreaded the day that Dean no longer needed therapy. What would happen then? You would have no more reason to show up at his home—the reason you had now was pretty frail to begin with. And even when Sam tried to pay you, you waved his money away. You didn’t want it, even if it would help give you a cover story.


“Are you ever gonna ask her out?”

Dean looked up at his brother, wondering when he’d gone insane. “What?”

“Come on, Dean. I know you like her.”



“The nurse?”

“Do you know another girl named ‘Y/N’?” Sam asked with a smile.

“Sammy, I don’t know how many blunts you smoked, but you must be on one hell of a trip if you think–”

“Dean. You shouldn’t play stupid. You’ll win every time.”

Dean scowled at his brother, which only made Sam’s smile grow, knowing he’d won.

“Why do you think I asked her to come help you with therapy?” Sam asked.

“Because Johnson was a jerk.”

“True. But why would I ask for Y/N specifically?”

Dean shook his head. “You’re insane.”

“Am I? Is that the reason I hear you saying her name in your sleep?”

Dean paled. He remembered a few dreams he’d had about you—nothing dirty, but still. He didn’t need his little brother knowing or assuming anything. “You must’ve heard wrong.”

Sam sighed. His brother had always been the stubborn one of the family. “Whatever.”

Dean watched as his brother stood and disappeared around the corner. He pushed himself from the couch and hobbled after him. “Sammy.”

Sam turned, waiting.

“If… if I did like her… why would it matter?”

“Because she likes you, too, dumbass.”

“So? Nothing would ever come of it.”

“You don’t know unless you try.”

“She would never go for a guy like me, Sammy.”

“Someone who’s brave and strong and a freaking national hero?”

“Someone who’s missing a part of themselves.”

Sam’s eyes dropped down to Dean’s leg, the prosthetic hidden by pant leg. “Well, from where I stand, I see a complete guy, everything where it should be.”

Dean reached up and rubbed his neck, looking at the ceiling. “You sound like her.”

“So that means I’m right.”

Dean stared at his brother. “Even if I did like her, and even if she did like me, it’s not like I could ask her out.”

“Why not?”

“What am I supposed to do, Sammy? I can’t take her anywhere. Asking her here would be just like therapy.”

Sam shrugged. “I can take you somewhere. Just have her meet you there.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’s not pathetic.”

“Hey, if you ask nicely, I might even consider dropping you off, instead of waiting out in front for you.”


Dean felt Sam’s eyes on him the entire session the following Tuesday.

“You did so well today, Dean!” you said, giving him that hundred-watt smile. “Soon enough, you won’t even need me around.”

“That’ll never be true, darlin’.”

Your cheeks turned pink as you helped Dean step down from the raised platform of the bar. The two of you walked around the house, towards your car. When you reached it, Dean heard the front door opening. Turning, he saw Sam standing on the porch.

“How was he today, Y/N?”

“Absolutely wonderful, Mr. Winchester,” you said with a smile.

Dean scowled at his brother and tried to shoo him into the house without you seeing. Sam gave a small wave and stepped back into the house.

“Um, listen Y/N,” Dean said, knowing it was now or never (and that if he didn’t do it, he’d never hear the end of it from Sam). “I, uh… I’m not sure of the protocol here, but… I was wondering if maybe you’d like to… go to dinner sometime. Or maybe a movie. Or whatever you like.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d… I’d really like that, Dean.”

Dean gave a sigh of relief. The hardest part was over. “You… you would?”

You gave him a small smile. “Of course.”

“And you won’t… get in trouble at the hospital or anything?”

You shook your head. “As far as the hospital is concerned, I’ve had no further contact with you.”

“What do you mean? You’re taking over for Mr. Johnson.”

You shook your head. “They think you simply refused his services. They don’t know I’m here.”

“What? Then why–”

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.”


The next night, Sam dropped Dean off a block away from the restaurant.

“I can take you to the door, Dean.”

“Dammit, Sam, this is embarrassing enough. Let me do this.”

Sam watched as Dean slid out of the seat. “I’ll be back at 8:30. If you need more time, use the restaurant’s phone.”

Dean nodded, having been over this at least a dozen times before. He took a deep breath and began his slow yet steady way down to the restaurant. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam’s car creeping along next to him and Dean almost died of embarrassment.

You were standing in front of the restaurant when Dean walked up.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

You shook your head. “I just got here.”

Dean looked you up and down. “You look… fantastic.”

It was true. You were dressed simply, in a modest dress of a deep wine color. Your hair was falling around your shoulders and there was even a touch of lipstick on your smile. Much different from your nurse’s uniform but you looked just as radiant.

“Thank you, Dean. You clean up nice yourself.”

Dean gave you a smile and led you into the restaurant. The hostess seated you at a small table by the window. Dean worried that everyone could see his prosthetic, that they could tell he was a ‘freak’, but he forced himself to concentrate on you.

Over dinner, Dean was able to see a side of you that he hadn’t seen at the hospital or during therapy. You were funny and brilliant and gorgeous and Dean desperately wanted to kiss you.

And that’s exactly what he did.

As the two of you stepped out of the restaurant, Dean saw Sam’s car across the street. He knew Sam was watching his every move, but he didn’t care.

“I had a really nice time,” you said, smiling up at Dean.

“Me, too.”

“I, um… I’d like to do it again sometime… if you want to.”

“I’d like that.”

You cocked your head to the side just slightly, your eyes sparkling. “Well, I suppose I should…”

Dean leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. They were delicate and soft and Dean wondered if he could stay attached to them for the rest of his life.

When Dean pulled away, he found you staring up at him with what can only be described as stars in your eyes. You bit your bottom lip, holding it between your teeth as if trying to keep your smile from splitting your face in two.

“I’ll… see you tomorrow,” you promised. You bounced up on your toes and pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek before scurrying away to your car.

Dean drifted across the road, his prosthetic working as smoothly as if made of skin and bone. He slid into Sam’s car, hoping his smile wasn’t too large.

“So,” Sam said with a slight cough, pulling away. “That looked like it went well.”

Dean silently agreed. He lightly ran his thumb over his lip, remembering the feeling of yours against his. And as ridiculous as it might have been, Dean couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe… this could turn into something.

So I was re-watching CATWS and noticed something interesting about the artwork in Sam Wilson’s house – namely, that every piece of wall art is monochrome, and has a rough quality to its work. 

First, a blurry photo in black and white, of two women laughing and a trumpet in motion. It seems to be printed out on basic paper, tacked to the wall without any frame or decoration:

Then there’s this painting, also in muted colours. There’s a raw feel to the work, in the roughness of the paintwork and the grey tones. Even the image of a man sitting slumped, looking up at the viewer, gives it a more emotional tone:

Finally there’s this large photo/painting, which is also in black and white, though I don’t know what the image is:

Sam also has a semi-blurry photo of army planes in formation in the sky, somewhere in his living room. And in the guest bedroom where Steve and Nat talk, there’s a grey frame with just the blur of a grey-toned image.

The art is such an interesting contrast to Sam’s house, because he seems to love brighter colours in his home: every room is painted in different shades of greens and blues, with accents of bright browns and amber… there’s no boring white walls anywhere. But the artwork is always shades of grey.

The roughness of these pieces of art (nothing delicate or intricate, nothing with colour) makes me wonder if Sam is an amateur artist – much like Steve. Someone who paints his feelings and emotions as a way to cope with coming home from the war. Or, perhaps more likely, he brings home the photography and artwork from veterans of the support group, and places them in clear view in his living area. I realize this is wild speculation, but that would be so Sam.

ficcyshit  asked:

Sorry, I'm just found something ADORABLE AND NOW I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING. Is there anywhere I can read up on some world-building lore? Are the Galra still warlike? Is earth still like a preserve? Is Keith a criminal or the kid of someone important?

Hey there, thank you for the question! 

Hmm… I don’t know places where you can read up on that topic but I’ve seen some great fanfic of peoples interpretation of this AU. Give them a read they ;)

I’ll talk about the Voltron Lilo and Stitch AU for a bit~

After losing the war, the Galra surrendered and are now part of the United Galactic Federation, who their leader atm is Shay (after freeing her people and joining all galactic forces to end the long war). The earth is yet a planet the federation has not had much contact with, only with the Galaxy Garrison (which Shiro and Mark work in atm). But its a safe place for aliens to experience freedom, since aliens are not a norm on earth, everyone is accepted and live freely amongst each other. A peace that existed in earth way before the United Galactic Federation was even created. During the war, for her safety as the last princess of Planet Altea, Allura had her memories of being Altean removed. Her father sent her to Earth. Hence why Allura in this AU believes she is was born on Earth but has no memories of ever having a family, this is why she adopted Lance.

Earth has always fascinated a young Galra child, Keith. Who always wanted to visit this planet mostly covered in water (which he hates). He thought visiting this planet will bring him much adventure and exploration which he loves. Being very mischief from a young age, Keith was always getting in trouble and very rebellious. Which resulted in his expulsion (again xD) from school. Keith decided, this was was his chance! So he stole a United Galactic Federation police cruiser and space jumped to earth!!  

Crashing to earth Keith meets Lance, a earth child who has trouble making friends around his age. To Lance, Keith was his first ever friend! Lance shows the confused/excited Galra child the ways of living the life on Earth. Such as surfing with the kind hearted surfer Hunk and helping Pidge save the abandoned street dogs! 

Back at United Galactic Federation, Shay sent Thace (Galactic Agent and Keith’s caretaker) and Coran (Galactic Agent and Planets Expert) to capture and return Keith. While for Coran, this mission is very much important, he secretly wants to find the lost Altean princess, Allura and bring her back home after the long war finally ended… hmm.. but will she? xD

What is left in store for our characters in this AU is just fun times with lots of Elvis Music~

These are the dramatic photos coming out of the Mediterranean.

Despite winter weather and rough seas, migrants and refugees are continuing to attempt the perilous crossing from Libya to mainland Europe.

Photographer Kevin McElvaney documented a few night rescues. It’s January and almost everyday our search and rescue ship assists a new boat.

A crew member from the jointly operated MSF - SOS Mediterranee vessel MV Aquarius collects life jackets from a small wooden boat after a successful rescue operation.

In 2016, Doctors Without Borders teams on board of Dignity, Bourbon Argos and Aquarius (in partnership with SOS Mediterranee) have directly rescued 21,603 people and assisted 8969, a total of 30,572 in more than 200 different operations.

May 2017 bring #safepassage and a place to call home for those fleeing war, violence and despair. 

anonymous asked:

8 and 18 with Steve please :)

(Apologies in advance… it was very difficult to do these prompts because they don’t really leave room to have actual interaction between the reader and Steve. At least for me.)

“So what if she’s one of the ‘good’ guys now? She tried to kill all of us at least once or twice, am I right?”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t in her right mind, Tony. You know what Hydra does.”

All of those people are alive right now because of her.

“She was a good fighter, we can’t deny that, but–”

She’s missing, not dead,” Steve mutters beneath his breath. The team’s eyes are suddenly burning into him, staring him down. “So can we stop talking about her like she’s some kind of martyr that we’re not sure we should envy or despise when she’s not even dead?”

It’s silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. Natasha shifts in her chair beside Steve, Tony’s eyes fall to the table, Clint takes a long draw from his coffee. Thor’s eyes have drifted to the window, Bruce’s have softened at the sight of Steve’s hard expression, and Bucky and Sam have retreated into their own spaces, ignoring the others, though not physically, leaning towards Steve and nonverbally expressing whose side they’re on.

“Sorry, Rogers, I get it, she’s your girlfriend and all, but we have to address the fact that she–”

“Tony, if you say another word, this will no longer be the ‘peaceful’ meeting we were fooled into thinking this was. Because from what I’ve heard, this is a trial and you’ve already decided to execute her before the first witness,” Steve bites back, sitting up straighter in his chair, hands squeezed into fists.

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This Women’s History Month, the National Museum of Women in the Arts wants to know: Can you name five women artists? Learn more about their #5WomenArtists campaign, and follow the hashtag all month long. 

This image is part of Martha Rosler’s House Beautiful series, which combines clippings from the home decor magazine with images of the Vietnam War. 

[Martha Rosler. Tract House Soldier from the series House Beautiful: Bringing the War Home. c. 1967-72. The Museum of Modern Art, New York. © c. 1967-72 Martha Rosler]

An Adventure of Your Own

Steve has returned from his two months of training a little different than the Reader remembers, but is the same where it matters.

The Reader now has a chance to get more involved in the war effort, and maybe keep herself distracted from her concern for Bucky.

Any feedback is greatly appreciated!




The man on your step was most certainly Steve. The aura he gave off felt the same, and his startlingly blue eyes glimmered as they always did. But, he looked so different.

He had always been just a little bit taller than you, but now he towered over you more than Bucky did. He had more muscular definition than when he left two months ago, and he seemed much healthier. Either he had really worked out, or he was chosen for the procedure, and it had succeeded.

“It’s me (Y/N),” Steve replied kindly with a smile. He was a little worried about how you would react to seeing him. When you threw your arms around him, which was harder for you now, and refused to let go, he decided that you had handled it better than he had expected.

You invited him in and thankfully, this time he was able to stay for a while.

He talked to you about the Super Soldier Program, and about Dr. Erskine, who had been killed by a German spy. He hadn’t known him for long, but the sadness that your friend felt when he described his death told you that he had been very fond of the doctor. He had seen something in Steve that, up until then, had only been seen by Bucky and yourself.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” Steve began nervously as you poured him a second cup of tea.


“Well, I’m being sent on a tour of America. I’ll be trying to sell bonds. I have received permission for you to travel with me as an assistant, if you want to. You’ll be paid, and we can spend time together.”

You thought about what it meant to accept. Of course, you would love being with your friend. You had missed him terribly while he had been gone, and having him next to you made you feel a little bit better about Bucky being off in the war. And, helping Steve sell bonds may be the best way you could support your husband.

But, it also meant that you would lose your job at the library.

Steve silently watched you make your decision. In the end, it was very easy to nod your agreement.

Steve smiled. He looked relieved, as if he doubted that you would accept his offer.

“I have a few things I need to sort out. How much time do I have?” you asked him.

“A week,” he replied, “I’ll help with anything you need.”

“Thanks Steve. Are you staying at your place?”


“Do you want to stay here instead?”

“That would be nice, thank you,” Steve replied, reaching a hand out to take yours.

That night when Steve was fast asleep on the couch, you sat in your bed, letter set in hand. You needed to write to Bucky, to let him know that you would be traveling for a while.

Dear James,

I have some exciting news! Steve is back in New York. He is quite different. I am not sure if you would believe me if I explained it.

But, he has been offered a job, traveling America to sell bonds. It isn’t what he has been dreaming about, and I know he is disappointed. But, he still wants to do what he can.

And, I am going with him, as his assistant of all things! I have never been outside of New York, so I am excited to experience some more of the country. And maybe I can contribute something to the war effort, and help to bring you home safe and sound.

I am enclosing an address Steve gave me. He told me that they would make sure I would receive any letters you send me.

I miss you so much. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, and hear your voice again.

I love you more than anything in this world,


Over the next week, you resigned from your job at the library, said bye to Sasha (and promised to send her a postcard from every town you visited), and organised to continue having your rent paid by an agent.

On the day of your departure, you were nervous and excited. You had been feeling very constricted and useless since Bucky left. Now was your chance to experience your own adventure, your best friend at your side.