Legacies - Series

-Nikita Gill

Is there a word that’s a mix between angry and sad

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Omg this is sooo good

You Caught Me

Character: Bucky Barnes

Requested: No

Type: Angst/ Fluff

Summary: You're Valentina's assistant, and somehow, you manage to fall in love with a certain Congressman.

A.N: DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT THUNDERBOLTS TO BE SEMI SPOILED!!!!!!!!! I have seen Thunderbolts* on Thursday (amazing btw) and have been craving Thunderbolts!Bucky. Also reader is like 25.

Again THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS ARE IN THIS FIC

3...2..1...

You worked your whole life to get here. Straight A’s, a top-tier college, a string of impressive jobs that made your parents brag to their friends.

But that wasn’t the point. You didn’t do all of that just to climb a ladder. You wanted to help people. To actually do good. To give the voiceless a voice, to step in where others wouldn’t. You wanted to make the world better, even if it was just piece by piece.

That’s what led you to OXE. And eventually, to Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

Or, more accurately, to being her assistant. Though calling it that feels like selling it short.

You’ve been working with her for a few years now. From the very beginning, she seemed to like you. Said you reminded her of herself. You’re still not sure if that was a compliment or a warning.

Valentina can be cold. She’s sharp, calculated, sarcastic to the point of painful. Some of her decisions don’t exactly land on the moral high ground. But she took you in, brought you closer, taught you how to survive in a world most people don't even know exists. And you’ve done things others your age only dream about. You were actually making a difference.

But now everything’s falling apart.

She’s under investigation. Impeachment is on the table. And you’re left trying to put out fires.

You’d been tense the entire hearing. And not the kind of tension that goes away with a few deep breaths. This was chest-tightening, eye-twitching, every-decision-matters tension.

Your job was on the line. Everything you’d worked for — or convinced yourself was worth it — was balancing on Valentina’s ability to lie with a smile.

She was performing. You were managing the fallout.

Your eyes kept drifting — trying to find some kind of anchor. And that’s when you caught a pair of them.

Blue. Cold but curious. Watching.

Congressman Bucky Barnes.

You met his stare, held it a second longer than you should’ve, then forced yourself to look away. Whatever that was — whatever he was trying to read — you didn’t have time to entertain it.

Then Valentina dropped the line you’d been dreading: “By all means, dig as deep as you like. I promise—there’s nothing to find.”

You knew that tone. It meant you had twenty minutes to erase every breadcrumb.

By the time the hearing adjourned, you were already outside, typing fast, juggling secure files and decoy trails on your tablet. You barely noticed the footsteps until—

“Y/N?”

You looked up, and there he was. Again.

That same cool stare, now paired with a too-casual smile.

“Congressman Barnes,” you said smoothly, tucking the tablet under your arm. “Nice to officially meet you. I’ve heard...great things.”

“I doubt it. Also, please just Bucky,” he said, offering a hand. “Unless you want to start talking tax policy — then I’ll put the tie back on.”

You cracked a smile and shook his hand. Firm. Warm. Too steady.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing back toward the hearing room. “I mean, what happened in there was... honestly? Kind of worrying. Extremely worrying. Kind of concerning if you ask me...in like a worrying way.”

You tilted your head. “You mean ‘concerning,’ or ‘I’m building a case against your boss’ worrying?”

He blinked. Didn’t expect you to hit back that fast.

You smiled politely. “No need to dance around it. I’m sure you’ve got a folder somewhere with Valentina's name on it.”

His grin crooked slightly. “Maybe. It’s a very organized folder. Color-coded tabs.”

“She always did love being underestimated,” you said with a shrug. “O.X.E. has nothing to hide, of course.”

He didn’t argue, but the look he gave you said he wasn’t buying it.

There was a beat of silence, and then he glanced over your shoulder — where Valentina was watching the two of you, pretending she wasn’t.

“She always stare like that?” he asked casually.

“Only when she thinks someone’s wasting my time.”

“And am I?”

“Depends on why you’re really here.”

He smiled. “Okay, fine. I’m new to D.C. First term, still finding my way. Thought maybe... you could give me a tour. Show me the non-corrupt parts.”

You laughed softly. “That’s a short list.”

“Still. Monuments, museums, a little fresh air — maybe a conversation?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Right. A conversation. Just two people talking. No ulterior motives, no recording devices, no traps.”

He held up his hands. “I left the wire at home.”

You smirked, but you didn’t let it reach your eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” he said. “Just... improvising.”

You leaned in just enough for him to know you were done playing. “You’re fishing, Congressman. I’m just not the one you’ll catch.”

He opened his mouth — maybe to protest, maybe to flirt again — but you stepped back as Valentina waved you over.

“You're a very good-looking man,” you added, softer now. “And I appreciate the effort. But whatever you’re hoping to dig up from me? You won’t get it over coffee and small talk.”

A beat passed between you.

Then you gave him one last smirk, turned, and walked back toward Valentina — leaving him standing there, watching.

And even though you didn’t look back, you knew those blue eyes hadn’t moved.

*******

You had three things on your mind.

Shut down headquarters.

Erase every trace of Project Sentry.

Clean up Valentina’s reputation before the whole thing implodes.

And somehow, you're doing all of that in a dress and heels at a fundraiser.

“Honestly, Y/N, you have such an amazing brain,” Valentina says, her smile more calculated than warm. “Putting this fundraiser together? Brilliant move. This has to sway at least some of the votes.”

“Thanks,” you reply, quickly scrolling through your tablet. “I’ve categorized the guest list: influencers, allies, and the undecideds. Left off the hard no’s. No point wasting time. I just sent the files to you.”

“Perfect. Do I need you for anything else?”

“No, you should be good. I’ll stay close though. Just in case.”

“Smart. Stay where I can see you. And hear you. Actually, just don’t go far,” she says, already turning to work the room. “Time to network.”

As soon as she walks away, you exhale, realizing you hadn’t even noticed you were holding your breath.

This job is not for the weak. Especially not under someone like her.

You glance around the room, taking in the glittering lights, expensive suits, and fake smiles. Your eyes find Valentina again, instinctively keeping track of her. Then they drift to the large Avengers logo on display at the front of the gala.

You were still a kid the first time you saw the Avengers on screen. They were larger than life. Heroes. They saved people. They made things right.

Now? You’ve seen the world fall apart more times than you can count. And more often than not, no one shows up to fix it.

That’s why you’ve stuck by Valentina. Why you’ve been willing to blur the lines. The world still needs saving. People still need heroes.

They just don’t always look the way you imagined.

“You know,” a voice says beside you, calm but unmistakably familiar, “this whole gala is impressive. The Avengers memorabilia is a nice touch.”

You turn and see him. Congressman Bucky Barnes, standing just a few feet away, his gaze locked on the towering Avengers "A" on display like it still meant something.

“Valentina thought it would help raise awareness,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral, polite. “Tie the past to the present. Nostalgia works.”

You’re careful with your words. You know why he’s here, what game he’s playing. And more importantly, you know where your loyalty lies.

He glances at you now, the full weight of those ice-blue eyes meeting yours. “Awareness for what, exactly?”

You offer a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “The mission has always been simple. Help the people. The world’s been falling apart, and heroes… they’ve disappeared. People need someone to believe in again.”

He nods slowly, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. “Again, call me Bucky. Also, that was good. Very rehearsed. Very polished. Bet Valentina was proud of that one.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just here for the hors d'oeuvres,” he says, voice smooth, but you catch the edge underneath it.

You take a step closer. “Look, Congressman Barnes. I know your history. And we both know what happens when evil comes and no one is there to stop it. OXE is trying to prevent that. Everything we do is for the people. Valentina’s impeachment? It won’t go anywhere.”

Even as you say it, there's a flicker of doubt. Small, but there.

He studies you for a moment before pulling a card from inside his jacket and holding it out.

“What’s this?” you ask, accepting it cautiously.

“My direct line. In case you remember something useful.”

You blink at him, caught slightly off guard by how calm he is. How sure.

You move closer, slow and deliberate, then reach up and tuck the card neatly into his chest pocket. “I don’t know what you think you’re implying, but I don’t appreciate it."

The two of you lock eyes, silence stretching between you. Not hostile, exactly. But charged. Neither of you blinks.

Then your phone buzzes.

You glance at your phone. Valentina. Of course.

You slip it back into your pocket and look up at him one more time.

“I have to go,” you say, steady. “Enjoy the rest of the gala, Bucky.”

Your smile is polite, but your eyes stay sharp. You turn and walk off without waiting for a response, the sound of your heels swallowed by the noise of the event.

Behind you, he watches you disappear into the crowd, quiet and thoughtful. Then, without a word, he finds himself slipping the card into your bag later in the night. Not for pressure. Not even for leverage.

Just in case.

And whether you used the card or not—that was your choice. Bucky just hoped he’d planted the seed.

Later that night, you sat beside Valentina in the back of a sleek black car, the city lights flickering across her face as she debriefed the night with a grin.

“I think that went incredibly well,” she said, proud and pleased with herself. “Honestly, I’m so proud of us. Oh—hand me my tablet. I gave it to you earlier when Gary started sniffing around asking too many questions.”

Your fingers found something thin. Smooth edges. Not the tablet.

The card.

Bucky’s card.

Your stomach tightened, just for a second.

He’d slipped it in without you noticing. Of course he had.

You stared at it between your fingers. You should’ve tossed it the second you felt it. Should’ve never looked at it again. But something kept your hand still.

“Y/N?” Valentina’s voice cuts in, sharp and expectant. “Tablet. Me. Now.”

You snap out of it, quickly pushing the card deeper into your bag before pulling out the tablet and handing it over.

She doesn’t notice. She’s already scrolling.

You tried to focus on the night’s success, the way people clapped when Valentina spoke, the headlines you knew would be glowing by morning. But that card was still in your bag. And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about it.

About the look in his eyes.

About the weight of what he said.

Maybe—just maybe—he really did get in your head. And maybe that seed he planted was already starting to grow.

*********

You’d made a mistake. A big one.

And you knew it.

Your heart raced as you paced the cramped hallway, mind spiraling. You'd believed you were making a difference—helping Valentina clean up her reputation felt like part of that. She said she needed you. That this was how things got done. So you listened.

Then she told you to burn the loose ends. Literally burn them.

Human beings.

And still, you followed orders. You rationalized. You looked the other way.

But the plan didn’t go as expected. They didn’t go quietly.

They were fighting back.

And Valentina didn’t like that.

Now a SWAT team is going to finish the job.

You couldn't let them die. You knew their names. Their stories. You didn’t believe they deserved this—not like this. Maybe it was too late to save them all, but maybe you could help save others.

Maybe there was still a chance.

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You dug into your bag, searching through the chaos until your fingers found it. That damn card.

You stared at it for a beat. Then you called.

It rang once. Then again. And then he picked up.

“This is Y/N,” you said before he could get a word in, your voice low, rushed, almost breathless. “I’ve, uh... been thinking. Remember that tour you wanted? You were right. Since you’re new to D.C., I figured—why not? Let’s hit the monuments. Maybe a museum. Or... I don’t know. Just talk. Just you and me.”

There was a beat of silence.

“A chat?” Bucky’s voice came through, teasingly. You started biting your nails, heart pounding. “Yeah. I’m down for a chat. When and where?”

Before you could answer, Valentina’s voice sliced through the hallway outside.

“I swear to god, Y/N, do I have to spell it out for you? You're coming with us. Get your ass in the car. Who else is going to make my coffee right? I swear, you Gen Zers make me want to throw myself off this damn building.”

You went silent, your jaw clenched. Bucky didn’t say anything either, but you knew he heard it.

Everything inside you was pulling in different directions. Guilt. Fear. Fury. Shame.

You swallowed hard.

“Look…” you whispered, voice shaking a little. “I’m sorry about the last few times. You were right. You were always right. I was so stupid. She doesn’t care about the world. She just wants the glory.”

You were rambling now. You always did when your anxiety started creeping up your throat.

“Whoa, hey—slow down, sweetheart,” he said gently. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just tell me what I need to know.”

But before you could speak again, Valentina shouted your name, louder this time.

You turned slightly, lowered your voice again.

“Do you have an iPhone?”

“No. Samsung.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. “Do you know how to track a phone?”

“I mean, yeah. But I don’t really do that anymore.”

“Well... start doing it again.”

You paused, then added quietly, “I have to go. Track my location. You'll get your answer.”

Then you hung up.

You let out a long breath, pushed the card deep back into your bag, and ran toward Valentina’s voice.

Hoping Bucky understood.

**********

You were pacing again. Nerves buzzing. Mind racing. You were worried about the others. They escaped when Bob distracted them. Then they couldn't find them. But something told you Bucky had gotten to them first. You could feel it in your gut.

He pulled through. Of course he did.

But now… there was a new problem.

Bob.

The new guy. The unstable one.

He wasn’t like the others. Something about him was off from the start. Too volatile. Too quick to react. And now he had powers — real powers — thanks to Valentina.

She said he was the future. Said he was the key.

But all you saw was a ticking bomb with a name tag.

He didn’t need power or exposure. He needed help. And if no one stepped in soon, he was going to destroy everything — maybe even himself.

You ducked into a quiet hallway, slipped into an empty supply closet, and dialed Bucky’s number with shaking hands.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Y/N,” he said, breathless like he’d been mid-action. “We’re good. I got them. Everyone’s safe. I’m keeping them under wraps as witnesses, so we’re covered. You did the right thing calling me. Thank you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the wall.

“No,” you said softly. “Bucky, there’s more. A lot more.”

There was a pause.

“Talk to me.”

“She did it,” you whispered. “She actually made one. A super soldier. His name’s Bob.”

“Bob?” he repeated, half in disbelief, half already bracing for what was coming next.

You could hear background chatter on his end — voices muttering “Yeah, Bob,”

“Yes. Bob the super soldier. He’s... not stable, Bucky. He’s got powers, strength, speed — but his head isn’t right. He’s spiraling, and Valentina’s using him like he’s a tool.

You were rambling now, the anxiety bubbling up in your chest.

“She’s restarting the entire program, and this guy — he’s the prototype. And if she gets away with this, there will be more. Stronger. You have to stop it before it turns into something we can’t come back from.”

There was silence on the line. Then you heard him moving, footsteps pacing across concrete.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m coming. I’ll handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” his voice softened, “are you okay?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, voice cracking just slightly. “Everything I worked for is going to be for nothing. I'm freaking out.”

“You don’t have to carry this alone, you know.”

“I can't tell my friends or family.” you said, quieter now. “I already feel guilty and shameful enough. They would just make me feel worse.”

Another pause. Then softer, “Y/N... I meant what I said. You did the right thing. And I’m proud of you. Really.”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Thanks. That means more than you probably realize.”

“I realize it,” he said. And it was quiet, but it hit you harder than it should’ve.

You hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Are they okay? The others?”

“They’re safe. A little roughed up, but they’re going to be fine.”

“Good. That’s good,” you said, exhaling. “I should go. I’ll keep feeding you updates when I can. Just… get here fast, alright?”

“Okay,” He finally whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

You hung up and slipped the phone back into your pocket before walking out the door. You immediately froze when your boss stared at you with raised eyebrows.

“Well,” she said coolly, “out of everyone, I never thought you would be the one second-guessing your work.”

You didn’t flinch. Not this time. “Giving Bob those powers? It’s reckless. And you know it.”

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head like you were some disappointing intern instead of her right hand. “I’m not going to argue with you, kid. I like you. I really do. You’ve done exceptional work—with me. For us. That’s why I’m giving you a little time to get your head on straight.”

Your jaw clenched. You said nothing.

“But,” she added, stepping a little closer, lowering her voice, “don’t let Barnes cloud that beautiful brain of yours. He’s a distraction. A loud, inconvenient one. And he’s getting in the way.”

You met her gaze evenly, letting the silence stretch.

Then, without a word, you grabbed your purse and walked past her—heels clicking, spine straight.

You needed to find Bucky.

*********

"Ladies and gentlemen, meet the New Avengers."

After countless photos and a barrage of questions, you kept your smile steady, doing your job one last time.

“Thank you all for coming,” you said with calm finality. “Photos and questions will stop here. I’ll be in touch about the next press briefing soon. Seriously—thank you again.”

You gave a polite nod as Valentina waved beside you, her signature smirk in place.

As the crowd began to disperse, you turned your attention to the Thunderbolts. With a gentle but firm push, you guided them out of view, away from the cameras. And then—without thinking—you grabbed Bucky and pulled him into a hug.

You couldn’t stop yourself.

You’d been searching for him. Panicking. Lost. The last image you had was of him stepping into the Void. The moment his silhouette became just that—a shadow—you screamed his name. And then… nothing.

You thought you’d lost him.

But now, here he was. Alive. Solid. Real. And all the emotions you’d buried came rushing back.

You knew there was something between you—something electric, something raw and waiting. It had barely started, but it already meant something. And for a bit, you'd been mourning the future that never got a chance to begin.

Now, you didn’t have to mourn anymore.

The moment stretched. Everyone around you went quiet. You barely registered your boss muttering an uneasy, “Oh dear.”

Bucky froze, stiff in your arms. He glanced around, uncertain. John gave him a look before mimicking hugging someone. Alexei flashed a thumbs-up. The girls? They just smirked.

“I saw you,” you whispered, pulling back just slightly. “I saw you walk into the Void. You became a shadow. I—I was trying to find you, and then you pulled that crap. What the hell, Barnes?”

He opened his mouth, but you beat him to it—stepping back before he could even return the embrace.

“I’m okay,” he said gently. “I swear, I’m fine.” He just wanted you back into his arms.

“You still scared the hell out of me,” you said, your voice breaking just a little. “I thought you were gone for good.”

Bucky's expression softened. “I’m not going anywhere. You still owe me that tour, remember?”

You laughed—half out of relief, half because it suddenly felt so easy to breathe again. You stepped closer, pulled him into a kiss, and he kissed you back without hesitation. Sparks. Heat. Home.

When you finally pulled away, smiling, you whispered, “Looks like you caught me.”

He grinned. “Looks like I have.”

Then you kissed again.

A loud groan broke the moment. “I feel like I’m gonna barf,” Val muttered.

“Shut up, Val,” the entire team replied in unison.

tony after he gets back to earth and attends peters funeral

tony, stroking the closed casket: this bitch empty

tony:

tony: *wipes a tear* yeet

; NOT MY MAN

© gif credits to @daniel-bruehl.

Simon Riley aka GHOST x READER

Summary. the team is back in town after a mission but seems like you would have preferred to stay there than having to face the kind of feelings you're discovering now.

word count: 1.2k.

warnings/tags: none. maybe a little bit of jealousy, but nothing serious.

author notes: my stories don't contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

pd: hi, y'all! first time writing for Ghost, no judging, please. i hope you like it.

The mission couldn’t have gone more successful, and the whole team was back in town before expected. That’s why Soap has had the great idea of throwing a small party for you all, more like a teammates’ barbecue. But now that you’re there, staring at the scene happening right in front of your eyes and holding a beer almost empty, you’re starting to figure out how to leave the place without looking like an asshole.

All your friends are having fun, while you’re about to break the glass container between your fingers just by the burning angriness emerging inside your guts. Why? Simple question, simple answer. Ghost is there, of course, keeping his face covered by the balaclava he never takes off, not even while sleeping; standing arms crossed next to the new acquisition for the team. Rhaia. A former soldier who is brand new to your world. Flirting with him. Or better said, trying to flirt with him. But even if Ghost isn’t moving an inch of his body, he’s letting her touch his bicep, play with the badges sewed in his jacket, and grab his dog tags to read the information written down in them.

Who does she think she is?

And who do you think you are?

Clicking your tongue, as you turn around, you give the beer one last sip before placing it on the table next to you. Silent and keeping your gesture deadpanned, your feet take you to the inside. You’ve had enough shit to deal with for today and you’re pretty tired to pretend you aren't… jealous? Ghost and you are nothing but teammates. On-duty. Off-duty is hard to explain. He’s your guardian during the nights in town like a protector, that’s how you like to see the situation. For a cop, he’s a stalker, and probably a psychopath too. But he has some power over you that you can’t even explain or run away from.

And now, everything you’ve thought you’ve had till this moment looks like it’s been reduced to ashes since Rhaia is part of the equation.

“ Party is downstairs. ”

A shiver runs down your spine. It doesn't matter the amount of time you two spend together, accompanied or alone, you never hear him coming. But you can't help but ignore his words, looking for the keys to your bike inside the pockets of your leather jacket, about to wear the piece of clothing and leave the house.

“ You going mute scares me more than death. ”

His voice is neutral. There’s no confusion, or angriness, or surprise in it. Those emotions fill you up at the exact moment you turn around, ready to go, by finding him closer than expected. 

“ Oh, for fuck sake! ”  You grumble, moving a palm onto your chest and closing your eyes for a second.

“ Where are ya’ heading at, hm? ”

“ You all are occupied with your own business and I’m tired, I just want to sleep, Ghost. ”

Raising his eyebrows as an incredulous gesture, the man tilts his head slightly, trying to figure out what’s going on inside that mind of yours. It’s not the explanation, but the fact that you have called him by his undercover name, and not just by his name like whenever the two of you are alone.

“ I'll take you home, little bird. C’mon. ”

“ You’re not coming. ” The sentence slips through your mouth before you can even think about it, watching him turn back to face you as he is ready to accompany you.

“ I am your man, of course I’m leaving with you. ” He’s now aware of what’s going on, and can’t help but drag every single word by his tongue. Demanding. With that possessive tone of voice that, in another kind of situation, would take you to your more desired fantasies later that night.

“ If my man can be touched by any woman, then… he’s not my man. ”

Oh, there it is; the attitude that rarely comes out from you, taking a step closer at the point you're breathing in the air he spells — besides the height difference. You’re challenging him with no fear, with no doubt. Looking straight into his eyes, contemplating how they darken themselves. That man is angry for real, making a huge effort to not lose his mind, the control over his body. Not with you. Maybe with a poor devil that crosses paths with him tonight. But you’re hurt. And so it’s your ego. Gho— Simon is yours. Nobody else can't touch him with that kind of intention but you, even when you don’t touch him like that; because the two of you have a non-verbal arrangement that he’s your guard dog and you don’t make any complaints.

Your heart races at the moment he takes a step back, away from you, not uttering a single word, making you feel frustrated for preventing you from seeing his face at this moment. How much would you love to burn down the balaclava he’s wearing (...).  But, at least, it seems like he has understood that you need some time alone to put down the feelings and emotions blurring your head like stormy clouds covering the sun from nowhere.

( A few hours later. )

“ What… What are you doing here? ”

Even if it was quite a surprise to find your lieutenant, fully equipped, sitting in front of your bed in the middle of the night, you didn't feel like he was a menace, nor like you were in danger. You didn't even care to ask how he had sneaked inside your house outwitting the alarm.

“ Go back to sleep, little bird. ” The murmur left his covered lips as he bent over just a little, enough to rest his arms onto his lap, getting a better view of you obeying without complaining and laying down between the sheets.

For a reason you can’t understand, you wake up with your heart racing and a thin layer of sweat covering your whole body. The survivor mode has been turned on. It wasn’t a nightmare, but a memory haunting you. The room is submerged in darkness, only illuminated by a lamppost outside, but what leaves you with no words is the empty chair in front of your eyes. Ghost is not there. And he should be.

Turning on the light, you look for your phone. No calls. No texts. Nothing. Cleaning the sweat from your forehead with a tissue, you toss away the wet sheets and walk barefoot outside of your room, touring the small flat.

“ Simon…? ”

Maybe he has gone for a glass of water or something, but you don’t receive a word back, nor a hint that he’s there. It’s only you and the silence of the night.

A sharp pinch stabs your heart. But what is that? Pain, sorrow, regret? Sadness? For a moment, you think that calling him is a good idea, disappearing as you remember what you told him earlier this evening. Has he taken that really seriously? No. That’s not typical of him. He would fight. And, for you, he would go to hell and be back before the blink of an eye, after turning off the flames that consume the place.

But then, why is the first night in almost two years he is not there, watching over you while you sleep?

Where are you, Ghost…?

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