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ijustwant2write · 3 years

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The Miracle Question-Bucky Barnes x Reader

(GIF credit to @sebastianruinedme)

Summary: When Bucky doesn’t tell (Y/N) that he missed his appointment, nearly getting into trouble with the government, she becomes furious and upset with him. She demands to have a session with him, wondering if their relationship is as stable as they thought it was, and if it’s actually making Bucky worse. To add to her anger, the new ‘Captain America’ decides to step in.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic), John Walker x Reader (acquaintances), Lemar Hoskins x Reader (acquaintances)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Mentions of therapy, arguing, slight violence, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Why would he do something like this and not tell me? He was doing so well with his appointments, and although I knew he wasn't enjoying them, at least he was going so he could get them over and done with. We hardly spoke of them, he was never the one to bring up the topic, it was always me; I just wanted to know how he was doing, I cared for him so much, and it was hurting me to think he wasn't able to open up.

"Sam." I got his attention as I briskly walked into the police station.

"Hey," he could see I was upset, immediately using a calmer tone,"he's alright. His therapist is here, she's got everything sorted."

"But why did it take me watching a video on twitter of my boyfriend being arrested to know about this?"

No one had called. Surely I was one of his emergency contacts? And if I (bizarrely) wasn't, why hadn't Sam called me?

Sam sighed."He didn't want you to know. He missed an appointment he had to go to and-"

"Didn't want me to know?!" I raised my voice, not caring if I grabbed the attention of anyone around us.

Sam held up his hands, trying to quieten me."Look, I'm not getting involved with your personal matters. That's up to you two. Just keep your voice down, we are in a police station."

I scoffed in disbelief."Why didn't he want me to know? He knew I would be angry, but I would never argue about it with him, or make him feel bad about it. I would support him."

"I know you wouldn't, and so does he. Bucky is still getting used to opening up, even with you. He just doesn't want to hurt you."

“Sam,” an older woman interrupted us,“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Doctor Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

They shook hands.“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Raynor put her attention on me, also shaking my hand.“You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the girlfriend. I’ve also heard a lot about you.”

“You have? Oh, didn’t think he would talk about me that much.”

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam quickly interjected.

“Oh, that was not me.”

“Christina!” another voice called out.

We all turned to see who called, and I almost rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. John Walker, the new ‘Captain America’, was headed our way, almost swaggering. People immediately wanted pictures which he agreed to, and although I know Steve might have done the same in some cases, it wouldn’t be a priority for him, nor would he look like was was enjoying it. Although I didn’t want to judge others before knowing them, America had given the title to some random man, forgetting that Steve was not only a hero, but a friend and family to people like us.

“It’s great to see you again.” Walker said as he shook someone’s hand.

“You gotta be kidding me, you know him?” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.”

“Heard you were working with Bucky so I thought I would step in.” he said as he approached.“Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who’s authorised this?”

“Um...” he smiled as he gestured to himself.

Who was he to come in here and change everything? Bucky was doing well in his therapy sessions...or at least I assumed he was, we never spoke about it. And I hated the way he called him ‘Bucky’; only close ones were allowed to call him that.

A loud buzzer sounded throughout the station, and I whipped my head around, relieved to see Bucky walking out with two police officers. I no longer listened to Walker, running towards my boyfriend. He easily caught me as I threw my arms around him, not caring that the policemen escorting him out were watching.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, seeming both worried and annoyed.

“Bucky, you got arrested! I had to come see you, make sure you’re OK. Why didn’t you get someone to call me? Also, why did you miss your session anyway?”

“It’s a long story. And it’s not worth telling.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s eye line was now on Walker as he shouted over his shoulder,“I’ll be outside.”

Before I could say anything else, Dr. Raynor spoke,“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam and (Y/N).”

“That’s OK. I’ll be out here with-”

She interrupted Sam.“That wasn’t a request.”

Bucky was silent as he slid away, reluctantly following the doctor. I tried holding his hand, but he was making it difficult to even grab it in the first place. My heart sank at the thought of Bucky not wanting me there, not even wanting to be comforted. When these sessions first began, he would come home and want to be held, be comforted; sometimes he asked if he could hold me, just to ensure that I was there with him, that I could feel safe in his arms. That was happening less and less now, it scared me to think he didn’t want this relationship anymore.

We were sat in an interrogation room, Dr Raynor on one side and two chairs on the other. She told Bucky and I to sit first, and that she would deal with Sam later. Nerves suddenly washed over me, petrified of what sort of answers Bucky was going to give.

“OK, so we can all sense a lot of tension in this room. And although I’m going in a slightly unprofessional route, I feel that we all need to do this to ensure you are all OK, that is my job after all. So, who wants to go first?”

She looked between me and Bucky. Part of me wanted to get the confrontation out of the way, perhaps that would make things go quicker and we would get out of here sooner. But my fear held me back.

“No volunteers? Wow, that’s surprising. Okay. We’re going to do any exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what sort of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

I nodded.“Yes.”

“No.” Bucky answered at the same time.

“OK, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?”

Shit, that was deep. There’s a million things I could think of that I wanted with Bucky. We used to talk about it all the time. He wanted security in knowing that I wanted a life with him, and I wanted the same, hoping that one day it would happen. Glancing at him, Bucky was slouched in the chair, staring at his hands folded together on his lap. It didn’t look like he was going to be saying anything soon, so I took the first step.

“Um...” I started, unsure how to word this.“I would want to take away any suffering Bucky has gone through, so that he could have a somewhat normal life, and didn’t have to force himself through things like this. No offence doctor. That way he wouldn’t have to feel pressured into opening up and he would tell me anything that was on his mind.”

“That’s a good start.” Raynor slowly said.“And it’s a very sweet sentiment, but it’s what you want, (Y/N).”

“That is what I want. All I want is for Bucky to be happy, I love him.”

“Again, very sweet, I know you care about him very much. But let’s try looking at it a different way. You want your miracle to be that James opens up more. That he lets you into the side of his life you don’t get to see in person.”

“I...I guess.”

“You feel left out of the equation, because James won’t express how he’s feeling?”

“Yeah, when you put it like that, that’s what I want. I want my boyfriend to be able to feel like he can tell me anything, no matter how gruesome, traumatic or even little it is.”

“Right. Glad we got there in the end. OK James, your turn.”

I watched in anticipation for Bucky to speak. What if I had messed things up? What if that was the opposite of what he wanted?

“My miracle would be...not having you involved in that side of things.”

He didn’t even look at me as he spoke. He also didn’t look phased by his answer. So his miracle would be to not have me know about a huge part of his life? He was a hero for god’s sake! Why was he shutting me out? What had I done to deserve this? Had I hurt him in some way that made him feel that he couldn’t talk to me anymore?

“What? Bucky, have I done something to upset you?”

“I just think it would be easier for both of us.”

“You know I’m always here for you, right? We’ve spoke about this before, I don’t understand why you’re only expressing this now.”

Raynor tried to get us back on track.“Alright you two, I think we need to dissect this-”

“I’m sorry doctor but I would like Bucky to elaborate more on this matter, because I’m not fully understanding.”

“What’s not to understand?” he finally looked at me, but I hated this expression. It was as if I had asked the stupidest question in the world.

“Bucky, why are you being like this? You used to tell me about everything, what’s changed?”

He didn’t answer. I just scoffed, hastily grabbing my handbag and coat.

“(Y/N), please sit down.” Raynor asked.

“I can’t. I can’t sit here and wait for an explanation that I’m not going to get. Just focus on the two heroes, I’ll find out about all of this never.”

I rushed out of the room, breathing heavily as I tried not to cry, but my eyes were already watering. Ignoring looks from people in the waiting room, I couldn’t stop myself from starting to cry. Although I had every reason to be upset that my boyfriend wasn’t communicating with me anymore, I also felt slightly guilty for just storming out of there. Maybe we would have resolved it.

“Miss, you OK?”

Oh, I did not want to deal with Walker right now. He would only piss me off.

“Do you need help? We can provide assistance if you need it.”

Although I had wanted to walk away, I knew I should have, my feet were already leading me towards him. I was embarrassed that I was still crying, but I tried to block that from my mind by now. He was leaning against a police car with his friend, who’s name I hadn’t bothered learning.

“You don’t look so good, shall we get a cop to drive you home?”

“Who do you think you are?!” I snapped.

“Well, I’m Captain America-”

“No, you’re someone who thinks they’re anything close to what Steve was. He didn’t go around introducing himself as Captain America, He didn’t care about the title. I understand you’re under a lot of pressure Walker, Steve has a huge legacy to live up to. But don’t you dare come waltzing in expecting those two amazing men to immediately work alongside you like nothing has changed.”

“You got all of that out of your system?”

My eyes widened at him.“Are you serious right now?”

“Look,” his friend butted in,“we just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get mixed up in this. We’re dealing with something major here, it could effect the whole world.”

“Sorry, but who are you?”

He rolled his eyes.“Come on man, how many times? It’s Battlestar.”

My face remained emotionless.

“Lemar Hoskins? You know, the new Captain America with his-”

“I don’t think she cares.” Walker explained.

“You think I don’t know anything about trying to save the world? My friends are part of the Avengers, my boyfriend fought against Thanos. He disappeared in the Blip and I was left by myself wondering if he would ever come back. I’ve been targeted, I’ve seen aliens close up. Nothing could effect me now.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve had to endure that.”

“Do you two just not listen to anyone but yourselves?”

“(Y/N), listen,” Walker dared to put his hand on my shoulder,“you’re a normal citizen like us. No super powers, no hidden strength, yet here you are with a super soldier that’s over a hundred years old! I mean, do the maths here, you could have walked away from all this danger. And yet, here you are, by yourself at a police station, whilst your boyfriend cares more about his ‘job’ than making sure you’re safe.”

That was it, the last straw. I slapped his hand off of me, preparing to punch him square in the face, when someone pulled me back.

“No (Y/N)!” Sam raised his voice as he made sure to distance me away from Walker. He quickly stood in between us.

“What did you do, Walker!?” Bucky quickly stormed over.“Did you touch her?!”

Sam was desperately trying to diffuse the situation, knowing that people could be watching.“Bucky, calm down.”

“Did he do anything to you?” Bucky asked me quietly, his hands cupping my face as he looked over me.

My heart raced at the gesture, forgetting for a second that I was upset with him. I shook my head with his hands still on me, and they slid down my arms, one wrapping around my waist to keep me close to him.

“I didn’t touch her Bucky, I was just trying to....you know what, it’s not even important. Can we talk, privately?”

“(Y/N) is staying.”

Walker sighed.“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

“So what do you got?” Sam said.

“Well the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

Lemar spoke up.“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker added.

“Well, there are a lot of those all over the planet since the Blip.” Bucky pointed out.

“Hundreds probably.” I said.

“So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

Walker smirked.“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky.” Walker was agitated.“It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

Bucky had to push his buttons even more.“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

Sam came to stand between us and Walker.“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

Sam and Bucky turned away, Bucky guiding me with him. Walker called after us.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

I instantly became defensive.“What the hell is that supposed to mean-”

“It’s OK.” Bucky reassured me, making sure I didn’t go back. Frustrated that Walker got the last word, I hesitantly followed my boyfriend.

“Hold up,” Sam stopped us,“I think you two need a quick chat before we delve into anything else. You both know that this is something big, we don’t know what we’re fully dealing with yet or how to fix it. Before we do all of that, you two better resolve whatever happened back there. I’ll be waiting Buck.”

We both watched Sam walk away, unsure how to start this conversation. He clearly showed that he still cared for me back there, but should I still be worried that our relationship was headed in a rocky direction?

“You OK?”

“Honestly? No, not really.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Do you realise how much you hurt me back there? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t speak to me anymore. And about me not being involved; what do you think the last years have been like? I know everything, you’ve expressed so much to me, opened up about your past. Why has that suddenly changed?”

“Because we have a chance now. The world is...relatively back to normal. I got an opportunity to make sure you’re safer, keep all of these nightmares away from you, not pass on my torture to you.”

“Bucky...what have the past years been for? Nothing needs to change. Just because things are getting back to how they used to be, it doesn’t mean we need to forget about the past. If I don’t know what’s going on with you, how can I look after you? How can I help you?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this-”

“I already made that decision when I knew I wanted to be with you. But we can’t revert back to how it was Bucky, not after all the work and effort we put in.”

“I’m sorry. I really thought I could make everything better.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand.“They already were. I know whatever you’ve got yourself into is big, but I’m here for you Bucky, I always will be.”

“I’m sorry again, I’ll make sure I keep opening up to you. That’s the least you deserve.”

I went on my tip toes to kiss him, still worried despite everything he had said. Bucky was still fragile, but now he was on another mission. I wasn’t sure if it was the best thing for him, something for him to focus on. Or it could send him in a spiral, and I wouldn’t know anything about it. I had to stay close to this mission, even if it meant I was in danger. Though what would change there? I had to keep an eye on him, I had to make sure he was OK. I loved him too much to let him slip back into the dark.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes one shot #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier one shot #winter soldier x reader #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier

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rachetmath · 3 years

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Favorite (Characters)

Ruby: *barges in* RatchetMath!

Me: What is it Ruby?

Ruby: You’re showing favoritism.

Me: Okay. And?

Ruby: You need to stop. Why not draw us for once?

Me: Hm, maybe because I like Jaune more. Hell I like Penny and Neo more than you or your team.

Ruby: Why?!

Me: Because your team is horrible.

Ruby: So is team JNPR!

Me: Yeah, but only because they have to follow you. They have some individuality but we don’t explore that as much. Plus, your team would be dead without them. But you know what Ruby, I would rather draw Yang, Blake or any other character except Weiss than you right now.

Ruby: What?! But I’m-

Me: The main character that barely does main character things. Woman, Salem was in Atlas! Why was she not your top priority? Why was James your problem?

Ruby: Um well…

Me: Ruby, she knows your mother! She might know what happened to her! I get Yang was some levels your mom but shouldn’t learning what happened to your actual mom be just as important? Especially after that dark memory.

Ruby: That is true.

Me: You have silver eyes but you still don’t know how to use them. There was army of grimm around Mantle and that would have been good practice. And a better solution than Ren.

Ruby: But then I be overpowered.

Me: No. Ruby your silver eyes only work on one person. If someone sneaks up on you or doesn’t care about that light you give off then, you’re dead. Maria is proof on that.

Ruby: Um..

Me: Plus, the question that everyone in the audience could have an answer to is whether your silver eyes can even work on Salem. In all honesty, it proves the writer don’t keep track of the characters and their personalities to where they fit together in story. You know what I have been making skits, trying to be funny but… the jokes died. Look guys I-I’m sorry but… let me explain.

1. Ruby and Blake should have stayed in Mantle. Why?

1. Salem is the main villian. She knows Ruby’s mother. You know the same mother who left for a mission and didn’t come back. The same mother, who Ruby knows nothing about while everyone seems to have different perspectives of her. Or has a better clue on who she is, than Ruby herself. Plus wasn’t Salem after her too? She basically would be killing two birds with one stone by kidnapping Oscar and giving Ruby a reason to see her. That way Ruby isn’t assuming what happened to her mother. Let Salem antagonize Ruby. (Question: Can silver eyes work on Salem?)

2. Perfect training for silver eyes. Let’s face it, Ren proved to us he can mask a bunch of people without Jaune’s help. All he needed was concentration. However, Ruby is more effective because silver eyes seem to be able to destroy multiple grimm on sight. And with lives on the line that gives Ruby plenty of reason to start using them.

3. Ren calling Ruby out on her issues. Look I loved how Ren was willing to tell the truth, but him revealing Jaune cheated Beacon was… weak. Reason being it relates to Jaune’s character and Ren still follows Jaune’s orders. However, Ruby, who is supposed to be a prodigy because she came to Beacon two years ahead of her class, has not proven once that she is worthy of such praise. The only reason-The ONLY reason Ruby was enrolled into Beacon was her silver eyes. Ruby even in volume one has been nothing but liability. Initiations, she almost dies from a Stinger. Stake out, she almost got run over by a truck and it ended in failure. First mission, she gets kidnapped and almost destroyed a city block. Roman, a man with no semblance or aura continues to beat her four times in a row. And it gets worse. Ruby almost got her uncle killed. She was the first to get knocked out by Emerald. Almost dies by a robot and Godzilla. And the moment she arrived in Atlas her first move was to lie to James. She didn’t even try to stop Tyrian when she saw him. She had her gun with her too. Ren is not her sister, he might as well tell her the facts so she can do better.

4. Blake is Faunus. Mantle hates faunuses. Why not have Blake help them to prove faunuses are people too? Let Blake represent her people. I mean Velvet and Sun represent faunses more than she does her whole existence. Blake also can relate to Ren’s problem. How? Blake was a part of the White Fang, so there were expectations she had to fulfill. Especially when trying to measure up to Adam. However, she explains the longer she was in the White Fang, the more she found out how messed up and extremely bias it was. Including with Adam to the point she decided to leave. She even states she was lucky that Yang even forgave her after all the trouble she caused her. Blake challenged her bias nature, and it made her stronger for it. Blake would be basically telling Ren the more he tries to live up to someone else’s expectations, without seeing their flaws, the more he loses touch with himself and everyone around him.

5. Oscar shouldn’t have been able break out of Salem on his own: I’m sorry but… Oscar got beat up. Took a magic beam to the chest. Had to switch between him and Ozpin and mind you he had no aura to help him. He should be tired and unable to move. (In my opinion, this kid was given too much screen time. At first I was worried about him but now I’m wondering why was I worrying at all.)

2. Jaune and Yang should have gone to Atlas.

1. Penny is basically Pyrrha in the opposite light. Penny’s special because she’s a robot with a soul, a mind of her own and an attitude to prove it. She is just as human as everyone else, but no one seems to treat her as such. James only sees her as something of a weapon. Pietro treats her like child even though she’s more mature than the rest of the female cast, except Maria. And now with maiden powers, everyone is out casting Penny even more. Jaune is perfect for her because he has experience with this kind of issue. However, he would’ve had to take different route to the situation considering his failure with Pyrrha last time they had discussion on maiden powers or responsibilities (Destiny.).

2. Jaune already has been a part of maiden business since volume three. His reason to be with Penny would be make sure she doesn’t meet the same fate as Pyrrha or Amber. Not just for himself but for others around him. Especially since Cinder was in Atlas and is willing to hunt her down for the maiden powers. And James was willing to turn Penny into a soulless machine to follow his every command. (Actually, Watts is more a fault considering he hates Pietro.). James and Cinder are also opposite to Jaune in some ways. James earned his position and earned respect from his military. Jaune on the other hand cheated, and unlike James might not have everybody’s respect. Cinder treats her allies like tools. And with power she just consumes and gives nothing return. Jaune however treats his allies like family. And instead of just taking power he gives power to others around him. He’s the reason Cinder has maiden powers. So, him making it his personal mission to make sure Cinder doesn’t get more power only increases his resolve to protect Penny. (Especially since he already had to kill her in the canon finale.) In other words, James and Cinder purposed a challenge to Jaune. Can he pervert history from repeating itself? Can he really protect the maiden powers? Is he truly worthy of being a huntsman? What is he willing to risk in achieving his goal? (Also let’s be clear. Hazel beat Oscar down for the password to the relic. James shot the kid and was willing to let him fall to his death. Qrow intentionally punched the kid. I don’t care if it was for Ozpin, he still punched Oscar. Lion before even knowing Oscar was Ozpin reincarnation was already about kill him anyways. All Jaune did was push him to a wall. Yes, Jaune still would have hurt Oscar, but he didn’t. He walked away.)

3. A lot of the situations could’ve been avoided or mattered if Jaune was there. Don’t believe me? Well let me explain. Was Ruby the only option when sneaking pass Central Command? No, because they had Weiss, Nora and Penny. Weiss could have done a freezer burn like in her fight with Marrow. Or Nora could have thrown her grenades and Penny just shoots them before the hit the ground or damage anything. Both causing a smoke screen, so no one sees them. Plus, they were already caught by using Pietro credentials. Did Nora need to get knocked out for the team to escape? No. If she had Jaune with her they could’ve one caused an EMP wave being Jaune has gravity and Nora has lightning. Or two, if Nora still went through with it, Jaune would have healed her immediately. Penny lifting and keeping the arena in place. If Jaune and Weiss were with her then once Amity was in position, Weiss with Jaune’s assistances can keep it place so Penny can come back inside and the whole video could be played. Also, Pietro would know what was going on with his daughter and can properly explain how to fix her. (Better than Jaune healing her.)

4. Nora’s whole character is knowing who she is without Ren right? Then why not just have her lead the evacuation once she’s done with Atlas? Why not have her and Yang work together along with the happy huntress to evacuate Mantle? Especially if their friends disappeared to save Oscar. (And before ya’ll tell me they can’t do it….. Yang, blocked a punch from a mech, held off a Manticore, and has a semblance that literally lets her take damage and dish it back five times harder. Nora who literally crushed Weiss and Yang in a food fight. Knocked a giant horse down on its knee. And knocked Hazel away. Are you seriously saying these girls are not enough to take on a few little tigers? Come on!) If the whole point of Nora’s character development was finding out more about herself then let Nora try something without Ren. Let her call the shots. Let her take charge. Give her a character. (Hell don’t stop there. Have her interact with other characters. Like Jaune. Yang. Weiss. Or anyone other character than Ren. Let them tell her what they think about her. Let Nora be a solution to a character’s struggle. Ya’ll make it sound like Nora has no friends.)

5. All Yang needed was a break from Ruby and Blake. In all honesty Yang should have been the one to see the hounds face and kill it. Why? Well Ruby is Yang’s sister and only reminder of her nonblood related mother. And Blake is her girlfriend. And if we saw the hound’s face, we know it’s not just a silver eyed person. It’s also a faunus. This will give her a reason to protect both her loved ones because by seeing the hound she knows Salem intention with Ruby and want to keep her, and Blake from meeting the same fate of being turned into monsters. Yang should’ve been the 2nd to 4th member of team RWBY to fall. Why? One, a Yang vs Neo fight. Two, Cinder and Neo both wanted Ruby dead. So why not get rid of Ruby first? The fights would have been more thrilling and seeing the character, the show is named after, presumed to be dead would have added stakes and tension to the fight. (Also let me say this. Why is it, that the only great display of the maiden powers I’ve ever seen, was from Amber and not the maidens, as of now, Winter, Raven, and Cinder? The maiden powers are basically magic right? Why isn’t Cinder using any other element than fire?)

6. Weiss was completely useless. Look, as the saying goes, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.” And when it came to Weiss and family, she has little to no clue of what it is nor deserves it. Weiss should have been more of an inspiration for Whitley to do right. How? By simply talking to him. What reason would she have other than Mantle? Simple, he’s her brother and she started off like him. Beacon, she was a brat. She was arrogant. And more importantly a jerk. Blake ran because of her racist attitude. Ruby literally had to impress her to prove she can be leader. Even though Weiss is not leadership martial herself. Plus, hearing May and how she and her family never resolved their issues should inspire Weiss to not repeat that mistake. And guess what, her mom, Willow, the drinker of the family, wasn’t wrong. Both her and Winter left Whitley alone. Klein wasn’t there for him either. All Whitley had was his father. So Weiss, actually acting like his sister and trying to help him allows him to feel less alone. Instead Weiss was complete Jacque through out the entire volume.

And that’s all. Look I know I should have seen this coming but I had to say it. Volume 8 could’ve been good. The problem was.

1. Characters are not placed well within the story.

2. We lost track of who said characters are.

3. The ships are in the way.

4. Being dumb for the plot. (Sometimes it’s necessary.)

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

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what do you think of james’ wanting to take AJ away from clementine after AJ kills lilly? it seems like very black and white thinking to me

ehhhh it's.... complicated.

I'm someone who really likes James. I think he's such an interesting character to look at and try to understand beneath the surface level stuff, y'know?

He was apart of the whisperers, and over his time with them, he became cold, heartless, and a killer. He walked among the dead with a group that taught him the way to survive is to snuff out weakness. Killing changed him, and it changed his boyfriend, Charlie. It took him killing a kid who questioned their ways to change. The kid didn't do anything to him, he showed hesitation and James saw that as weakness and without even thinking about it, he killed the kid.

It took that much to shake him, to realize what he had done and who he had become. He saw himself as this monster with no regard for human life, just like the walkers he and his people disguised themselves as.

That's a lot to cope with. That fucked with him, and he left the whisperers after that and vowed he'd never kill again. We was alone for who knows how long, just him and his thoughts, his memories, and walkers. Like.... I can't even imagine what that would be like, y'know?

It feels like him seeing walkers differently after walking among them, after being alone for long, is a means of coping for him. He was one of them, in a way. He believes there's more to walkers, that there's a piece of the person they were before in them, that it's peaceful. Whether you think he's full of shit or disagree with this outlook, that doesn't matter. He saw himself as heartless as a walker, so him trying to be like no, there's some humanity in them, therefore he still has his. Doesn't have to make sense to you, it makes sense to him.

It's something he's clung onto for his own reasons, he's convinced himself of it to where he believes it's a fact, which is why he's disappointed when Clementine rejects his beliefs and goes on to be bitter about it later on. But when Clementine considers it, says he might be right, he lights up because he's never met someone who even tried to understand his way of thinking and yeah, he knows how it sounds. He knows it sounds a little crazy, that most people see walkers as monsters because he used to be the same way.

Then when he finds out that little AJ killed someone? That's jarring, given how young he is and the way he talks about it. He picks up on the way AJ says that he's trying to atone or that he's justified and how it sounds like he's parroting what he's been told rather than what he actually believes and that's worrying. Which is what led him to bring it back up with Clementine before they break onto the boat.

He's so desperate to not be the person he was before that he's now on the extreme opposite side, and he doesn't want someone like AJ to end up like he was... which leads to some not great decisions on James' part when he witnesses Clementine telling AJ to shoot Lilly.

Like okay.... he's telling Clementine that killing breaks something inside of you, something Clem herself is familiar with... and if she tells him she won't let AJ become a killer, only to then tell him to shoot Lilly...? It doesn't look good. It makes Clementine look like a liar who is just telling James what he wants to hear so she can use him. James doesn't know how big of a threat Lilly is when she's down, he doesn't know that if AJ doesn't shoot, she'll stab him in the back. He just sees Clementine actively telling AJ to kill.

We the player have more context to Clementine and AJ's relationship that James doesn't. We have worked with AJ at this point to guide him to a better direction, to help him realize why what he did to Marlon wasn't okay.... unless you went the justified route which I'll try not to side-eye you too hard but in that case, it's even worse in James' eyes.

But James wasn't there. He doesn't know them, and even AJ points that out in the caves. He doesn't understand who they really are. AJ's right.

Now, the caves... that's when James decides that peace can be achieved through violence which.... no? James, my dude, no. From our side, he's turned on us and is another thing trying to separate Clem and AJ. He's attacking Clementine, threatening to break her leg if she tries to stop him... and for someone who was all about peace and pacifism, this makes him look like a massive hypocrite.

And yeah, he is. He also clearly doesn't have a plan here and it was doomed to fail no matter what as AJ refuses to be taken away. He's not helping the situation, as desperate as he is to try.

If we look at this through James' perspective, then he believes that Clementine is the problem and if he takes AJ away from her, he can help him down a better path. He could learn to have a better life without being told to kill. Clementine has taught him murder is okay, that's the way to get what you want, and now AJ is saying he liked it? that's not great.

James is remembering who he was with the whisperers, and he doesn't want to see it happen anymore. He tells them that he does know who they are because he's been them.

While I believe he's in the wrong here, that he isn't helping anyone in this situation and only making it worse, it makes sense that this would be his response when you take into account all of the traumatic baggage he carries with him and how desperate he is for peace. If Clementine is gone, AJ can be saved. AJ can live a peaceful life, but she isn't letting him.

It's up to Clementine to talk him down and make him understand that she doesn't want this, she doesn't want AJ to grow up in a world where sometimes it's kill or be killed, where people want to hurt you for little to no reason. She would love to live in a world without killing and walkers and all that, but it's not that easy. You can't just force peace, you can't just make it happen, it takes work.

Through this conversation, she can leave James conflicted about his beliefs and he does calm down and consider what she's saying. He realizes this isn't the right way to go about this, and he'll even stay behind to make sure the walkers pursuing them don't follow. That's the last we see of him.

So.... no, I don't agree with James attacking Clementine and trying to take AJ away, real shitty move on his part, but I don't think his character is so cut and dry, y'know? There are reasons for what he's saying and doing, it's not just "James good, but now he bad."

But I do think you're right, his arguments can come off as black-and-white because he's not considering things from their perspective, his experiences and coping has made him biased to his own ideas and he believes he's right. It's when Clementine starts explaining her side to him that he stops and reconsiders where he stands with this and sees that yeah, it's more gray that he initially thought.

#asks #twdg james #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg lilly

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melanielocke · 3 years

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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 15

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

Previous Chapter: Chapter 14

Next Chapter: Chapter 16

Will covered his face with his hand. ‘I do not understand why after yesterday you’d want to return to the woods,’ he said. ‘Well, I understand the recklessness of some of you, but I was expecting a little more sense from Alastair.’

Lucie had to agree that if any of them had the common sense not to run towards danger, it was Alastair.

‘If we do nothing, we stand little chance of saving Thomas,’ Alastair said, his voice betraying no emotion but he did seem a bit stiff.

‘Excellent point. I’ve heard I am to congratulate you, by the way, Alastair. And Thomas too, of course. Here I was hoping that after James and Cordelia broke up, I’d have another chance for a Carstairs in the family with you and Lucie.’

Lucie wished she could disappear. She deeply regretted telling her father about her crush on Alastair, almost two years ago. Nowadays, she realized she’d probably just looked up to him, she had been grateful for the way he’d defended her. She had liked him better than most boys in school, and had mistaken that for a crush. However, when it came to boys in school, the bar was on the floor.

Alastair, for his part, looked horrified. ‘That will never happen. I’m gay.’

‘So am I!’ declared Lucie. She figured this was as good a time as any to bring it up, and she’d been meaning to tell everyone anyway.

Everyone stared at her. Alastair looked amused. ‘Well, that is one way to come out. Congratulations, Lucie.’

Her father looked surprised. ‘Really? You always told me about boys you liked.’

Lucie shrugged. ‘Yeah, that’s weird,’ she said. ‘I think at some point I started looking at girls and realized what I felt for boys didn’t really compare.’

Lucie wasn’t sure that made sense, but on the internet she’d discovered plenty of lesbians had had crushes on boys before realizing. Feelings were confusing for sure, and the longer Lucie thought about it, the more she began to understand those oblivious book characters who were obviously in love but had no clue.

‘I didn’t realize,’ Will said. ‘But I’m glad you told me. Can’t wait until you tell us about any girls you like.’

Considering her father’s fondness for the Carstairs family and how determined he was to bring one into the family, Lucie wasn’t sure telling him how she felt about Cordelia was a good idea. She didn’t doubt her father would think it a good idea to help, which would end in disaster.

Lucie felt that was enough said about the topic for now. ‘Back to our plan,’ she continued. ‘We need to find the selkie skin, which according to our source is located in the woods, in the land in between. The same place Alastair and Thomas ended up finding yesterday. There was a trap door they couldn’t open, but cortana could cut through the lock, so that’s our way in.’

Lucie didn’t mention the minor risk of getting trapped all the way in the realm of the thief of souls. Nor were they completely sure the trap door hid the selkie skin, but it had to hide something interesting, right?

‘Hold on, whose selkie skin, and why?’ Will asked.

Cordelia summarized last night’s visit. ‘Grace needs that skin, or she will be forced to use her power on us. Even if our plan has its risks, the risk of doing nothing is falling under the spell of a siren.’

‘I thought you said she was a selkie,’ Will said.

‘Something in between, I think,’ Cordelia said. ‘She is a selkie, but she has the voice of a siren. Something about myths being muddled. I don’t know, I can’t say I have much experience with the lovely ladies of the sea. That’s what she called herself, by the way.’

Lucie had to admit Grace was indeed quite lovely.

Will sighed. ‘I guess you’re right that someone has to go. I’d do it myself, but there must be a reason she asked for Cordelia specifically and I don’t have any weapons. But I do want you to be back by dinner. Now hurry before Tessa, Gideon or Sophie learns of your plans.’ A playful smile appeared on her father’s lips. ‘And if anyone asks, this conversation never happened.’

Lucie quickly put on some walking shoes, heart beating fast until the four of them were out of sight and she was sure her mother couldn’t stop them anymore. Her father might be lenient when it came to recklessness, but her mother was not.

‘If anyone gets mad at us, I’m definitely blaming your father,’ Alastair announced.

‘That’s not fair,’ Lucie protested. ‘He covered for us.’

‘Let’s just focus on our mission,’ Thomas offered. ‘Yesterday, we took this path and it took us to the ruins.’

She followed Thomas and Alastair, who remembered how they’d come upon the ruins yesterday. It was a nice route, Lucie had to admit that, with a small pond on the side. In the end, after a long walk by Lucie’s standards, they exited the woods back where Lucie had entered to follow Tatiana, at the side of the village.

Lucie frowned. ‘Are you sure that was the right route?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see any ruins.’

‘Perhaps the entrance is somewhere different today,’ Thomas suggested. ‘Maybe we should go back and try another path.’

After trying several paths and walking for hours, Lucie was getting tired. She wasn’t used to taking walks this long like Thomas and Alastair were and she was pretty sure she had blisters on both feet. Determined not to complain, she trailed behind the two boys, who kept exchanging longing stares. They really were adorable together. Thomas at some point took Alastair’s hand in his, which caused Alastair to stop in his tracks. Lucie nearly bumped into him.

‘Why isn’t this working?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Well, yesterday was the first time we found the ruins,’ Thomas said. ‘Before that, the forest was normal. Apart from some gnomes, things like that. Nothing unusual, at least. Perhaps today, the gateway isn’t there. Or perhaps there’s another trick to reaching it.’

‘Is there anything we did different yesterday?’ Alastair wondered.

‘We didn’t intend to find the land in between,’ Thomas said. ‘What if we cannot find it now that we’re actively looking?’

‘Then how would Tatiana find it?’ Alastair asked. ‘If that’s where she hid Grace’ skin, she can’t have stumbled on the ruins by accident like we did.’

‘Could be part of the deal she made, her learning how to come there,’ Lucie said. ‘Is there anything else you did differently?’

‘We were there earlier,’ Alastair added. ‘Thomas decided to sleep in today, whereas yesterday he and I went into the woods early in the morning.’

‘I think I was on my way there when I followed Tatiana,’ Lucie added. ‘When I returned, Cordelia said I was gone for an hour when it didn’t feel that way, just like you were gone for a whole day.’

‘I’m not sure stalking Tatiana until we can follow her there is such a good idea,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps we should try it again tomorrow morning.’

They tried again the next morning, and then in the evening for a short walk, but no result. She had patched up her feet with blister band aids from her mother’s first aid kit and kept going, even if her feet were still hurting and it was getting worse. It wasn’t the time, it turned out, and Lucie started to get frustrated. Grace hadn’t come back, and how were they supposed to get her skin if they couldn’t get back into the land in between?

The third morning, after another fruitless attempt to find the land in between, her mother was waiting for them in the hallway when they returned to the house.

‘Where have you been all morning?’ she scolded.

Lucie realized none of them had a good excuse for this morning. Most of the time, no one had noticed them return, and they had been ‘reading’ the whole time in their bedrooms. At least for Thomas and Alastair, it was believable that they’d want to spend time together in a bedroom “reading” any time of the day. She looked around to see if anyone would come up with something. At least Cordelia was a decent liar. But no one offered a believable excuse and Lucie had no inspiration.

‘We were looking for a way back into the land in between,’ Lucie said, deciding not to reveal her father’s role in their adventures. ‘But we couldn’t find it. So no harm done, we weren’t in danger and the only injuries sustained are my blisters.’

Her mother sighed. ‘You’re just like your father, Lucie. But I’d hoped some of you had more sense.’

Her mother looked at Alastair, her expression stern. ‘I thought you could be a voice of reason among them, Alastair. I don’t understand why you’d do something so reckless. Promise me you won’t go into the woods again.’

Lucie agreed that out of the four of them, Alastair probably had the most common sense, but it was almost painful to see Alastair respond. Lucie knew her mother often came across as harsher than she meant, but Alastair probably didn’t. His face went blank, he retreated back into his shell. Lucie might not have noticed anything was wrong if Cordelia had not looked so concerned.

‘I’m sorry to have disappointed you, dr. Gray,’ he said and before anyone else could say anything, Alastair disappeared inside, presumably to his bedroom.

Her mother had a PhD and did all sorts of medical research, Lucie knew she liked it when people called her by her title, but at the same time she’d hoped Alastair was close enough to her parents to call them by their first names.

Thomas and Cordelia also made their way inside before her mother could get angry with them too, Lucie remaining behind.

‘It was for Thomas,’ Lucie said. ‘We needed to find the place in between again. We needed to find Grace’ selkie skin or else Tatiana will force Grace to enchant us with her voice.’

Tessa sighed, putting her hand on Lucie’s shoulder. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Lucie? We could have gone in your place.’

Lucie figured she shouldn’t tell her mother her father had encouraged her to go.

‘I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger,’ Lucie said. ‘Cordelia has cortana, Alastair has his memory, so they had to go. I think you’ve upset Alastair, I better go check if he’s alright.’

Tessa sighed. ‘No, I will check on him. You’re right, I was too harsh on him. I didn’t consider… Never mind, I’ll go. But don’t think you’re out of trouble, young lady. You’re not leaving the house until otherwise specified.’

Lucie groaned and went inside, taking off her shoes and replacing the patches on her blisters. She had a pair of fit flops she could still wear, and Lucie decided that even if those shoes weren’t the most suitable for the forest, she would wear them for their next walk. If she was ever allowed to leave the house again, that was.

She wasn’t sure where Cordelia or Thomas had gone, upstairs to find Alastair? Perhaps she should join them, but her father found her first.

‘Tessa caught you,’ he concluded, sitting down next to her.

Lucie made a face. ‘Now I’m not allowed to leave the house.’

‘I’ll talk to her,’ her father promised. ‘Have you found anything yet?’

‘No,’ Lucie said. ‘I don’t understand why. Thomas and Alastair one day walked into the land in between on accident, but now we can’t find it and it’s frustrating and my feet hurt and these blisters are bursting open.’ She paused. ‘Did you see where Thomas and Cordelia went?’

‘Upstairs,’ Will said. ‘I’m thinking they’re talking to Alastair. He seemed rather upset. Is everything alright with him?’

Lucie sighed. ‘I think it’s something mom said. She didn’t mean to hurt him, but because he’s the oldest out of the four of us and definitely the one with the most common sense, she said that she’d expected more from him.’

She couldn’t explain it exactly, she didn’t always understand what upset Alastair. But she suspected Alastair felt like he didn’t deserve to be here, or that her parents liking him was very conditional. Perhaps in Alastair’s mind, all love was conditional, and any mistake he made meant he’d lose someone’s love. Lucie was trying to understand what was going on in his head. As a writer, she should be able to understand how people thought and why they did what they did. As a friend, she should be able to offer support. She wasn’t sure she was doing a good job with either.

‘I imagine that’s difficult for him to hear,’ Will said. He sighed. ‘This is all my fault. I’ll talk to your mother, and tell her I encouraged you to go.’

‘Mom will be very mad with you,’ Lucie said.

‘Now she’s angry with you, and I deserve it more,’ Will said. A playful smile lit up his face. ‘Besides, you’re not little princess Lucinda who needs to be locked in a tower, that’s for sure. What’s life without a little risk?’

Lucie wondered if he’d feel the same way after facing her mother.

She went outside into the garden on her fit flops to feel the sun on her skin after reapplying sun screen. The weather was nice today, not too hot, a soft breeze against her cheek, and only a few clouds in the air. That could change any moment though, Scotland was known for is changeable weather. A good atmosphere for a nice romantic scene, or bonding between friends or family. Or just fun scenes that might not need to be in the book but balanced out the dark ones. Lucie felt a book should be balanced in that sense. While she loved drama and darkness, she did not like gritty stories where everything was dark and terrible. She liked to balance out the darkness with a sweet romance or gentle characters still remaining kind and hopeful in the worst circumstances. Or characters who might have turned bitter, but were trying to be better. Thomas had a bit of a weakness for those, which totally wasn’t because that archetype resembled Alastair.

The garden still counted as the house, right? She suspected Thomas and Cordelia were both still with Alastair and she didn’t think it would be a good idea to join them. She didn’t know Alastair as well as Cordelia did, she feared she’d only say the wrong thing. Besides, Alastair didn’t seem to like people taking care of him or fussing over him, Cordelia had told her she sometimes had to force him to let her protect him for once. Lucie feared her mother’s comment had reinforced some deeply held belief of his that he was worthless, even if she had never intended to make him feel that way.

She wondered how she’d never seen something was not right at the Carstairs home. Cordelia hadn’t either, but she remembered how when she was young, Cordelia would sometimes come to her for sleepovers, whereas Cordelia’s parents had rarely invited her over at their house. Of course, when she was little Lucie would get homesick and preferred having sleep overs at her own house anyway, so it had never bothered her.

And when Lucie was little, her father would always come sing her a Welsh lullaby. He was Welsh through his father, whereas the house here in Scotland had been in her grandmother’s family for some time. He was a horrible singer, and it was hilarious how he kept trying and did not care what people thought. It was sweet and Lucie had always felt safe and protected when her father came to tuck her in and sing his horrible songs. Cordelia had told her it was usually Alastair who sang her good night songs and tucked her in. That had made sense too. Alastair had a beautiful voice after all, and who wouldn’t want to listen to him sing? Back then, Alastair had seemed much older and wiser than the two of them, but really, he’d been a child too.

And Cordelia had regularly had to cancel plans because her father was sick and she couldn’t leave him. Lucie had understood, although the disappointment never quite faded. But when Lucie’s father was sick, he might whine and moan like a typical man flu patient and complain that he needed uncle Jem’s care and support, but he would never have asked Lucie to choose taking care of him over spending time with the few friends she had.

None of those things had struck her as odd in childhood, but now she was thinking maybe they should have. Maybe someone should have seen something was not right at the Carstairs house. Perhaps then Alastair wouldn’t be in so much pain now.

‘Lucie!’

Lucie looked up, but didn’t see anyone calling out her name. Nor did she recognize the voice. It was a smooth, feminine voice.

‘Over here!’ the voice hissed and Lucie followed the sound to the trees and recognized Grace.

‘What are you doing here?’ Lucie asked.

‘Tatiana left me alone. She didn’t realize I had enough free will left to come here.’

‘I’m sorry, we don’t have your skin yet,’ Lucie said.

Grace rolled her eyes. ‘I know. I’ve seen you walk in the woods once or twice. Honestly, that was embarrassing.’

Lucie frowned. ‘How so?’

‘You never even opened the gateway,’ Grace said.

‘How are we supposed to do that? We’re not Tatiana!’ Lucie exclaimed. ‘And Alastair and Thomas entered the land in between by accident.’

‘It sucks people in sometimes,’ Grace said. ‘But rarely by accident. Alastair was targeted when he and Thomas came there, Tatiana found out he has a memory ability and she thinks he’s a threat to her plans. I think she’s scared her brother will remember something. That’s why the werewolf was after him.’

Lucie frowned. ‘They know about that?’

‘Yes. But they do not yet know about you,’ Grace said. ‘I figured it out when I realized you could see Jesse. You better get my skin back before she realizes what you are. She’ll want you dead for sure.’

‘What I am?’ Lucie asked.

‘You have power, Lucie,’ Grace said. ‘You’re a witch.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Lucie said. ‘I just see ghosts. That’s all.’

‘I know you see ghosts. You talked to Jesse. Do you have any idea how rare that ability is?’

‘I’ve never met anyone else who could do it.’

‘Exactly!’ Grace exclaimed. ‘You have no idea what you’re capable of. You can open a gateway into the land in between. And even more important, if you find yourself trapped you can open the way back.’

‘How do you know?’ Lucie asked.

‘Because I have heard legends of one other person like you. A witch who was born centuries ago. She wasn’t like other humans who used magic, she used dark magic, but hadn’t acquired it through a deal and there was no price to pay to something powerful. As a little girl, all she knew was she saw ghosts. And when ghosts stayed around her, they became stronger. But she learnt there was much more she could do and grew stronger. She learnt to open those gateways and use them as a weapon, she learnt to control the dead.’

Lucie was horrified. She could do such things? ‘What happened to her?’

‘As a woman of her time, and an odd one at that, she was treated badly of course. At some point she snapped and became a dangerous, evil witch. Who can blame her, honestly. She was defeated by the ancestor of the Carstairs, the one who carries cortana. Before he could deliver the killing blow, she jumped into the sea and drowned herself. She lost her dark magic, but came back to life as a daughter of the sea, a mermaid. She repented, changed, and lived her life peacefully in the sea. That is how we know her story.’

Lucie frowned. ‘I don’t want to be an evil witch,’ she said.

Grace’s grey eyes were cold and void of emotion. ‘Then don’t be. Just because magic is dark doesn’t mean it’s evil. Be a good witch or a neutral one or whatever you want to be. But you can’t change that you are a witch, and I need you to find my skin. You, the bearer of cortana, and the one with the memory. Without you it can’t be done. But you need to know what you can do, you need to open a gateway.’

‘How?’ Lucie asked.

‘It’s your power, not mine,’ Grace said. ‘Go figure it out. I need to get back before Tatiana realizes I am missing. They say when the witch wanted something, all she had to do was ask. So be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.’

#Lucie Herondale #Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Lucelia #Thomastair #fanfiction #tlh #the last hours

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retvenkos · 3 years

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always waiting (just not in that tree) | r.a.b.

Harry Potter - Regulus Arcturus Black x Reader, angst, slight fluff requested by @captainshazamerica

tw: death eaters, mild language, mentions of death, mentions of betrayal

word count: 2.2k

prompt: “where were you?” / “i’m doing the best i can—” / “no. you’re not hearing me. where were you?”

Summary: A lifetime ago, Regulus and (Y/n) made plans to leave their life behind, but when the time came, he never showed. Two years later, he survives the Drink of Despair and (Y/n) wonders what ever stopped him from leaving, in the first place.

The day was cold. The morning started with a chilling wind, the howling air sweeping across the world with a vengeance, crying out sorrowfully as though it knew what as to come; the sun didn’t shine until at least mid-day, and even as it fought against the thick clouds above, it’s warmth never made it to the ground below, just dissipated in the top layer of the atmosphere. (Y/n) had woken to the deafening sound of silence, and throughout the day, it hung around their shoulders like a shroud. They checked the clock at 11:15, then again at 11:30. At 12:00, they checked it every five minutes.

There was no sound but the moaning wind.

(Y/n) checked their bag, rooting through the seemingly endless bottom until they found the note and the cipher needed to read it. Regulus’ careful handwriting met them, with its sharp edges and careful curves.

Noon, the day before it happens.

(Y/n) shoved all their belongings back into their bag, except for two - their wand and the note. They held onto the creased, stained parchment with a strength born from that insatiable fear that ate at them, gnawing at the pit of their stomach and sliding down their throat. He would be here - he had to be.

The wind stopped at around 3:18. The stillness was almost worse than the wind. (Y/n) held their watch in a knuckle-tight grip, their skin stretched over their bones in such a way it hurt; the pain of their dry, cracked skin pulling itself too tightly was almost enough to mask the pain that tore at their heart and plagued their mind.

They had planned it meticulously. His parents were gone, the house-elves were en route to Malfoy Manor for a 3-minute window where the house was vacant and the wards were taken down. He couldn’t have missed it - they had practiced it too many times before...

Maybe he got lost in the woods. The trees grew so closely together it was easy to get turned around between one path and another. Perhaps he had come across some danger that was delaying him - a danger that made no sound.

(Y/n) looked at the clock face once more.

Night fell and there were no stars to guide the way. (Y/n) still sat in their meeting place, in the branches of the largest elm tree they could find, with knots all up the trunk, and a lonely Slytherin scarf hanging from one of the lower branches.

It had been one of the first things they’d done when they planned their escape. Together, they had stolen as many scarves as they could, coming to the forest and tying them onto the branches of trees - ones that bore no resemblance to their meeting spot but could fool the untrained eye, perhaps make the marker meaningless to anyone else. Regulus had tied his own scarf to the final tree, his sad eyes more solemn than (Y/n) had ever seen, his countenance more sombre.

(Y/n) could still see him, with his dark hair falling into his eyes, the wind turning his usual poised self reckless, his entire being pulling loose and falling at (Y/n)’s feet. They had put their hand on his shoulder and how they had wished it was something more.

(Y/n) wished, still.

A branch snapped in the cold night air. (Y/n) startled at the sound, and their heart leapt in their chest, only to freeze in dread. Their parents walked below with their hoods pulled up but their faces exposed. (Y/n) clutched their wand in their dominant hand, but their entire being shook with fear. If they were caught, there would be no chance of running ever again. Their left forearm itched, as though the cursed mark was already there, crawling up their skin and forever branding them the enemy.

(Y/n) had to run, damn the consequences. If they were killed in their escape, perhaps it would be a mercy.

(Y/n) looked down at Regulus' scarf, tied on the branch below. In another life, they would have risked everything to retrieve it; in another life, they would have waited, still.

But part of them knew they would always be waiting, just not in this tree.

"I love you, Regulus. Please, forgive me."

They apparated into the night.

✧ *:･ﾟ

For two years, (Y/n) lived in a haze. During the day, they were running and fighting, soldiering in a war was never easy, particularly when the foe was once a schoolmate and killers were once friends. At night, (Y/n) couldn't sleep; guilt was a fickle companion, never satisfied with the attention it received and apathetic about the destruction it wrought. There was always a part of (Y/n) that saw the Death Eater they almost were - the monster that almost was - and it made fighting harder. How could they go toe to toe with a Death Eater, when they were unable to reconcile with the knowledge that they were once fated to be the very thing they were to destroy? Sometimes, when in the thick of things, (Y/n) searched for Regulus in the crowd, although what they would do when they found him, they did not know. There was a fair chance that he wasn't even alive, the way he had disappeared, and yet (Y/n) searched, still.

At times they felt that part of them would always be searching for him, waiting for him to show up - just not in that tree.

(Y/n) made few allies during their time amongst the Order of the Phoenix, and even fewer friends. Most of the members didn't trust them. There was a constant undercurrent of suspicion in the ranks, and while (Y/n) didn't judge their reluctancy, it made things more difficult. It also made them wonder, occasionally, what it would have been like, had Regulus joined them. He would have hated the judgment - they so easily trusted some, and others would never receive the same confidence. His brother would be loved, and he would be doubted. Sometimes, (Y/n) could conjecture what complaints he would have, and it would bring a nostalgic smile - sweet, but with a bitter end.

All they had was conjecture, anymore, and as (Y/n) walked into the Order of the Phoenix headquarters, taking a seat in the meeting area, they tried to fathom what Regulus might think if he could see them now.

People trickled into the room fairly slowly, talking in hushed whispers and throwing glances about the room as though there was some secret that only a select few knew. (Y/n) watched them through careful eyes, already in tune to the low level of tension in the room. At one point, Sirius Black threw a sideways glance at them, but instead of being filled with his usual fire, there was pity combined with something akin to respect. (Y/n) had looked away (what else were they supposed to do?) but they knew that something had happened. The question was... what?

When Albus Dumbledore walked in, his eyes scanned the room as usual, but this time they rested on (Y/n). It was in his gaze, too, then, a regretful sort of acceptance that gave way to poignancy - the kind of look one has after seeing an emotional piece of art and feeling something deep within them move to compassion. (Y/n) had only seen that look a few times before, and they had only ever given it to one - someone who still lay heavy on their heart.

"As always, there is good news and bad..."

(Y/n) studied their cuticles, listening to the conversation that surrounded them. Meetings like this were usually long, with many triumphs recognized alongside terrible evils - news of death interwoven with stories of victory. There was celebration and there was sorrow; (Y/n) learned rather quickly to keep their head down and their hopes stable. It was the only way to get by.

At some point through the meeting, James Potter snuck in, and he took a seat beside (Y/n), whispering their name. They turned to him, eyebrow furrowing. "Yes?"

"There's someone in the sick room you should see, he's just gained consciousness again and is asking for you. Dumbledore wanted us to wait but..."

And (Y/n) hated the way their hopes jumbled inside of them, as though it might be something grand. "Who?"

A name left James' lips.

(Y/n) gasped.

(Y/n) rushed to the hall without another word. Their mind was numb, trying to formulate some kind of response to what they had heard - something that could reconcile reality and dream - but there was so much conflicting evidence that it was at a standstill, shortcircuiting like static. But their heart cared not for the complication of the mind, and it ached in only one, increasingly profound way.

When they made it to the door that separated the makeshift sick room from the rest of the house, (Y/n) paused. Their mind ran through a thousand possibilities, replaying that day in their mind over and over until it brought tears to their eyes. (Y/n) screwed their eyes shut and started to pull their hand away when they heard a cough from within. Without a single thought, (Y/n) swung open the door.

And there he was.

For a moment that existed outside of reality, they just stared at each other.

There he was, with his dark hair falling into his eyes, the weight of the world having turned his usual poised self into something reckless, his entire being pulled loose and falling at (Y/n)'s feet. In his eyes was that same solemn melancholy, his countenance sombre and aged.

"Regulus..." and their whole life, they had been preparing for this moment, wishing they would be able to say more.

(Y/n) wished, still.

His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

(Y/n) didn't walk in, but clung to the doorway. "Where were you?"

And he took in a labored breath.

"I waited for you," (Y/n)'s words trembled with the beginnings of a sob, "Where were you?"

"I was doing the best that I could—"

"No, you're not hearing me." (Y/n) had thought they would savor the sound of his voice, but all it did was bring back a rush of memories they had been fighting for two years to keep down. They had been waiting - always waiting - for two, long years, and now they wanted answers. (Y/n) couldn't afford to fathom their own, anymore. "I didn't leave that tree until nightfall. I was almost caught by my parents, waiting for you to show. Where were you?"

As if he didn't already look pained enough, Regulus' eyes filled with a terrible kind of sorrow. "I was going to leave with you. I had my bag packed and I was waiting to apparate but then... then I saw Sirius. At Grimmauld Place. He must have also known that our parents were gone because he was there, nicking some family heirlooms - dark artifacts that he didn’t want them to be able to use in the future. (Y/n), I thought I had the time to confront him... I wasn't leaving you."

(Y/n) surged forward, tears spilling down their face as they hugged Regulus with all the force of those stolen, lonely years. He sobbed into their shoulder, his entire being quaking, spilling from every edge and breaking apart.

“I’ve relived my worst failures trying to fix things, (Y/n). The Drink of Despair.... it showed me you, waiting in our tree. I didn’t mean to leave you, (Y/n). You’re the last person I meant to hurt.”

(Y/n) held him until his tears subsided, until his sobs were no longer quite so far and until his breathing calmed and their hearts beat as one. (Y/n) breathed in the feeling of him, and for once, they weren't waiting for anything. (Y/n) had been searching through every crowd and waiting for millennia, and now he was here.

It wasn't in their tree, but he had come.

Regulus eventually spoke, finally finishing his story, but never once did he let go. "We fought in the hallway, and I pulled my wand. I don't know what I was going to do, but he got to me first and knocked me out. I woke up the next morning, and it was too late."

"But you're here, now. You came."

"I wanted to come sooner," he breathed, and his words tickled (Y/n)'s neck. “I meant it when I said we’d leave together. You’re all I have left.” (Y/n) held onto the way he felt in their arms, alive and breathing. They hugged him with all the strength they had, and how they wished it was something more.

But there would be time for that. For now, they could just revel in the idea that Regulus was safe, and he made his way back to them.

“Please don’t leave, again.”

And Regulus held (Y/n) a little tighter, as though he was afraid they would slip through his grasp. “I don’t plan to,” he whispered, his voice gruff and full of all the longing he had ever carried in his chest.

-- taglist: @musicallisto, @theletterhart, @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine, @brokenandheadoverheels, @timeofmadness, @writerdream22, @lotsoffandomrecs, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena, @coffee–writes, @lenalxvegood, @cooloaflandhero, @swanimagines, @noesapphic, @amortensie // message me if you want to be added!

#hp #hp marauder era #marauder era #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black imagine #one shot #imagine #fanfic #hp fanfiction #reader insert #angst #slight fluff #hp imagine #hp reader insert #alright but i really got into this one #the title? idk. i'm still on the fence but it's better than my other gut reaction

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jamieatthebarricade · 3 years

Text

Maids to Wives / Chapter 5

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she’s never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Chapter 5/? : A Known Stranger

Previous Chapters : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Find Maids to Wives on Archive of Our Own!

May 22nd, 1619, Claire’s POV

“Dear diary,

As time passes by here, I find myself enjoying life here more and more. I’ve been less than a week, and since arriving I’ve made a goal for myself to discover something new everyday. Whether it’s a new tree I didn’t notice before or a currant in the river. Yesterday I discovered a field of wildflowers a little aways of me and Frank’s house. I hope to go back there one of these days, maybe take Frank there and have lunch.

Frank and I haven’t had too much time to converse with each other, aside from small pillow talk at night. I ask about his day and he asks about mine. Usually he’s away during the day, in town with peers or overseeing the farms. I suppose I had an unrealistic romantic idea of marriage, that we’d be with each other more.

That’s not to say I mind. Being able to think by myself is a privilege I’m happy to keep. This whole experience has been incredibly overwhelming, so not feeling smothered by my husband is somewhat of a plus, although I’m smothered by a different thought.

The man at the docks. His red hair. His tall statue that stood over everyone else. Since last seeing him I couldn’t stop thinking of him, and guiltily I don’t think I mind. The feelings I have for him aren’t like anything I experienced before. It’s the type of attraction you read about, but never live through. He was this erotic thought in the back of my mind I could pull out whenever I wanted to escape. He was the forbidden fruit, and I wanted nothing more than a taste.

I need to stop myself. As pleasant as those thoughts were, I had a husband. A good husband who was kind and gentle, and who provided graciously for me. I had a roof over my head, and all the free time to frolic and read. I’d been doing better than many of the other women, from what I had observed. Mary was the only other one who seemed happy to be married.

I am seeing Geillis tomorrow, so I’ll ask her then. Although, I can guess her answer. From what she told me of her dream man, her current husband didn’t fit the description. He was old, bald, and fat. From what I observed from far away, she always pulled back when he kissed her. It made me fortunate to have Frank.

I suppose I should stop for tonight. Frank will be home soon, and still have our bed to make. Thank you for letting me release my thoughts.

Love, Claire”

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May 23nd, 1619, Claire’s POV

“What are your plans for the day?” For the first time in weeks, Me and Frank were able to sit down together for breakfast. I had opted to prepare a simple meal of bread and milk, as I still had yet to learn to integrate recipes for my husband. I made a mental note to myself to start that.

“I’m visiting Geillis, my friend from the ship” Frank just smiled and sipped his milk, gazing between me and his food. I found his look charming, and I was happy to receive it. He looked at me with a nurture that was warm and inviting, that said ‘I’ll protect you,’

As he looked at me, I took the opportunity to look at him. Everytime we interacted, it seemed like I was noticing more about his features. His face was quite square, and he had these lines along his cheeks that trailed from the bottom of his jaw, and which became more defined when he smiled (thankfully, he did that a lot). He was balding slightly, but I suspected he’d be one of those men who balded nicely. He had a nice face, and I smiled to myself as I looked at him.

Suddenly the door opened, and Frank’s lesser twin came in. I hadn’t seen Jonathan for a while, as he usually kept to himself for the most part. Sometimes I saw him when I went out for a walk, but I always tried to avoid him. There was something about him that caused me to move away from his presence. It was strange, even though him and Frank looked the same, I knew deep down they weren’t the same person at all.

Frank was annoyed at his brother’s outwardly intrusion, and made no effort to hide it. “What can I do for you?” although the question wasn’t ill-spirited, the annoyed tone of his voice gave away his true feelings.

“There’s a shipment down at the docks. We need to help unload,” Jonathan returned with the same annoyed energy, and I saw the sibling tension between them. Growing up an only child, I’d always wanted a sibling of my own. Living with Jonathan and Frank rid myself of that dream.

Frank turned to me, giving a small smile. “I’m sorry our breakfast had to be cut short, we should try doing this more,” He smiled, and leaned in for a kiss. I happily returned it, and we shared a short peck before he was out the door. I hadn’t even noticed Jonathan was still in the room before I heard his voice,

“Goodbye Claire,” He said. I hated his voice so much, because it sounded so much like Frank. If any part of them shared likeness, it was their voices. Though, Jonathan’s always sounded like it was laced with something. Villainy? That’s what I suspected.

I gave him a short nod, and thankfully he was out the door. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was keeping in, and looked around the small room. Me and Frank’s half eaten breakfast, a small table with 3 chairs, and a hearth. It was quaint, but it was home.

‘I should meet Geillis,’ I told myself, taking off my apron and looking at myself in the window. My hair was pulled up, and I was hesitant to change it as my hair tended to be untamed down. It wasn’t like I was meeting the queen or anything, I kept it the way it was.

The walk to town was longer than I was expecting. I’d only ever ridden on horseback, but figured today was a good day to take a scenic route. It was sunny, and quite warm. Some of the wildflowers I passed were blooming, and birds filled the sky and sound with their presence. Everything was peaceful until it wasn’t.

It was like a dark cloud came over everything, and the perfect day turned to something worse. Behind me, I heard the rustling of bushes, and slowly the movement of feet. I didn’t even notice my own starting to pick up the pace. A part of me wanted to keep walking. I’d be to town eventually, it wasn’t too far away. I heard the footsteps getting closer and my other thought was to turn around and fight whoever this demon was.

I chose that option, turning around and screaming, at the same time punching whoever was my chaser one. The person fell to the group, clutching his nose in his hand. It was an old man, with a bushy beard and a smell of alcohol that filled my senses quite quickly. I didn’t recognize him, and surely thought that whoever it was meant to hurt me.

Before I had time to breath, I heard another pair of footsteps being him. ‘This can’t be happening’ was I being set upon by highwaymen? Were these a band of bandits intending on stealing or hurting me? I quickly ran the opposite direction to my house, but whoever was chasing me was faster. At some point I would need to fight and that time would be now.

I turned, and punched at whoever it was quickly. He doubled over, but didn’t fall like the other. When I looked at who it was, my breath caught in my throat. The man had bright ginger hair, and I’d only ever seen that color on one other person.

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A/N Thank you all for reading!! I’ve been in a writing mood lately so hopefully expect some new stuff out! Have a great day yall :)

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katie-writes24 · 3 years

Text

Fell Into The Same Arms

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: Language, implied material, angst, a sliver of fluff, and injured reader.

Part 2

You know what, this is on me, because I was on Pinterest YET AGAIN and came across prompts that made me want to vent!!! So here is this!! Also, I’m really struggling with this one WIP and I jsut wanted to post soemthing, so I don’t even really know if this is “finished” yet. Let me know if you want to be tagged, and give me some feedback. I apologize in advance if I hurt your heart! But...it’ll be worth it I swear!

Rain was in the forecast the entire weekend, and it didn't seem to stop anytime soon on Monday. It took a toll on traffic, that was for sure; the roads were starting to flood and the bus routes were changed unexpectedly. The streets were in no shape for anyone to be out.

But Y/N didn't pay no matter to that. Instead, she kept walking, despite the throbbing in her thigh and the blisters on the back of her heels. She ignored the piercing feeling in her back when she tensed. That pain in the back of her head: didn't bother her. Not now, not when she's in the wet streets alone at night, having someplace to be.

Another lie. It was someplace she needed to be, and maybe she wasn't welcomed, but she had no other option. Every other door that used to be open was now closed after comments like you're better than this and don't come crying to me when I'll only say I told you so were thrown at her.

Y/N should be getting her keys out to unlock her apartment door, heading to the shower and ignoring the worried cries from Hercules. She could even be knocking on the screen door and letting Eliza draw her a bath while they sipped on hot tea. Hell, she was even considering jumping the gate and climbing up to John's window and letting him hold her as she cried herself to sleep.

What was she doing instead? Knocking on the hardwood door in front of her, not knowing what the outcome ahead would be.

Seconds felt like hours before the door was opened quickly, only going so far as the small chain up top would let it. She was met with brown orbs, in a flash they were wide in shock.

She couldn't blame him.

She could only imagine what she looked like, it obviously wasn't a pretty sight if the feeling in her bones had any say in it. But something told her that her appearance was not why he had the reaction.

At this point Y/N believed that he was, in fact, in shock because it's still pouring rain and she can feel her limbs start to grow numb from the cold. He's still staring at her with that look...

"I didn't know where else to go," Her voice sounded raspy even to her, and she guessed it was loud enough for him to hear, considering he shut the door before the sound of a latch being pulled again was heard, and he fully opened the door.

He looked good; dressed in his pajamas, but still good, considering the last time she saw him. He looked fresh out the shower, and she took that as a sign that he didn't have company over.

Thomas hated leaving people waiting. Something they didn't share in common, apparently.

He stepped aside and Y/N didn't waste a second before stepping into the warm house.

"Just- wait a second," Thomas walked down the hallway, soon returning with a towel that he laid across the floor. "Don't want to ruin my floors."

She snorted. Still the same stuck up she remembers. "Could you spare one for me, you think?"

"I was actually going to offer you a shower, and maybe help you patch things up. Looks like you need it," He gestured to her head, which had a small gash, or at least that's what it felt like.

"That'd be nice," She cleared her throat once more, removing her shoes. She stopped after stripping of her jacket, standing awkwardly and hoping to give the man a hint.

Instead, he scoffed and went down the hall again. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before. Just leave your clothes on the towel, I'll throw them in the dryer."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but did as he said. She quickly walked to the bathroom and stepped into the tub. It all looked the same, including the bottle of shampoo he bought her months ago, still in the same spot.

She cleared her throat, mentally shaking herself clear of those warming thoughts.

A few minutes after she turned on the water, she heard a knock on the door, his silhouette behind the curtain.

"I brought a towel, and some fresh clothes," There was some shuffling before he sighed loudly. "Did you eat? Can I get you something?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Y/N cut him short, trying to ignore his caring need that he normally hid from the public. She wasn't any different, not anymore.

"Well, knowing you, you probably had a large coffee this morning and called it a day. And I'm not quite sure what you got yourself into yet, but I'm sure it didn't happen over a meal." Thomas sounded so sure of himself, and damn him for knowing her so well. Her silence gave it away, and he soon clicked his tongue in assurance. "I'll make you something quick."

There was no resisting the water in her eyes. Pain expanded all over her body, she had an excuse. Plus, he couldn't see her get emotional behind the curtain, and there would be no tear tracks on her cheeks later.

It might seem odd to others, to those who see Thomas as a public figure, a politician. He carries power, and never lets anyone outside these doors see his vulnerability. To them, he is a man with high standards and a precise wardrobe.

But she knew the real Thomas.

He was sensitive, caring for others, acting like he was just now. The newspaper titles were full of shit, they didn't have any right to criticize him because that wasn't the real him.

Of course he was passionate about his job and position, but they didn't know what Thomas acted like in the morning. They didn't know what Thomas's favorite meal to have when he's had a long day was. About his constant need to have a book to read before he goes to sleep, no matter what time it is. About what he looked like when he was in complete bliss, when he was really happy....

No, Y/N knew though.

She reached for the shower handle, turning the knob on the cold setting. She finished up washing her hair as quick as she could, then carefully dabbed her body with a washcloth, avoiding direct open wounds.

Stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a rather large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/N found Thomas at the table. He was standing over scattered papers, rubbing his chin softly as he thinks to himself.

While he's distracted, she takes in the house, knowing she really shouldn't, it will only hurt her or, worse, make former feelings reappear. But she can't help but look over to the wall beside him, where dozens of picture frames line up in a pattern. Some are of his parents, some of Thomas and James, there's even a group photo of his colleagues standing before Washington. She remembers how excited Thomas was that day, to finally be getting the recognition he deserves.

She also remembers that there used to be a frame below it, one that held two photos of Y/N and Thomas, holding hands, smiling. She remembers that the photographer wanted their hands close to the lens, getting a good capture of piece of jewelry that looked so simple, but held so much promise.

Was suppose to hold so much promise.

Should she really be sad that he took it down? Y/N didn't deserve to feel angry or disappointed that it wasn't hanging on the wall, to be a constant reminder to anyone that walked by of what used to be.

"Food should be ready soon. I just put it in the oven to warm up." She jumped as she was released from her thoughts, Thomas now looking over at her.

"Thanks," He soon walked over to her, only feet away when he lifted up his hand. She instantly flinched, swallowing hard as she realized what she did.

Thomas slowly put his hand down, looking at her with wide eyes. "I wasn't going to-"

"I know," Her voice was shaky, but she held a hard expression, looking at the floor.

Nodding, Thomas cleared his throat before heading to the bathroom, moments later coming out with a tube of ointment. "Let's get you cleaned up?"

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just Y/N's luck. Whatever it may be, she would never stop thanking whoever was watching over her that she got to feel Thomas's soft touch once again.

Yes, maybe she'd like it better if it was under different circumstances, but she was appreciative of the light touch he had against her head, one hand holding it still while the other gently dabbed the cream against her bruises.

The quiet was disturbed when he winced at the scrape right above her hip. There was no hiding it; it was already layered in dried blood, purple outlining the crevice of the soon-to-be scar. Thomas shook his head slightly, and she didn't know if it was from shock or disappointment.

Once he cleared the wound completely, Thomas pressed his thumb against her hip bone, rubbing her skin in soothing motions. Y/N smiled sadly.

"Can you stop, for one goddamn second, and just talk about this?"

"I can't, Thomas! You don't understand why, but I just can't-"

"Do you know why I stick around? Do you care about what I have to say? Don't you know that I love you? I would do anything for you, Y/N, why can't you trust me on that?"

"I do! I trust you with my life, Thomas! That's the problem!" The room grew silent, Thomas forming a sudden frown, eyes teary.

Her own were wet, as well. Vulnerability was not her thing, so Y/N quickly turned around, not bearing to see his reaction.

Lost in her own self deprecating thoughts, she felt a hand on her hip. His long fingers began stroking her bone, her skin lighting on fire every under the fabric of her underwear. Somehow, the simple touch completely broke her, letting out a shaky sob. Thomas wrapped his free arm around her chest, grounding her. Y/N allowed her own arms to grab at his as she shook.

“We’ll get through it,” Thomas whispered, his own voice a bit shaky. “Together.”

There used to be moments where Y/N would allow herself to completely fall into him, would just let go of all the pent up frustration and troubles she had. Because she knew Thomas would catch her, she knew that he would let her release all of her worries for him to fix, and if not fix, just to listen. He would offer comforting phrases that would make her feel like the only woman in the world. He would physically comfort her, whether it was a bath or his touch or his body, he would take away her stress.

And no matter how many times Y/N would experience such ache, Thomas never turned away. Not once. Not even after all this time separated. And she knew damn well that if she did the same thing now, he would let her.

That’s what scared her.

She couldn’t do that to Thomas, not again.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Apparently, him knowing exactly what she’s thinking didn’t change either. His soft voice rang loudly in her ears, traveling all throughout her body. Y/N had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from breaking down.

“You can let go...” It sounded like a promise.

Maybe she could count on him to catch her again, even if it’s just this one last time.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!!

@notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @tinywhim @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @daveeddiggsit @ohsoverykeri-blog @astralaffairs @i-know-i-can

#thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson x oc #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #my writings #thomas jefferson #wow anyways #didn’t mean to make it so sad?

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minewako · 3 years

Text

Heart of Stone - Chapter One

Summary: Following the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky are accompanied by a new friend.

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language. If there are any mistakes please tell me so I can fix it.

______________

Bucky was sick of it. Not all of it, of course. But sick of this feeling. Sick of the guilt. Sick of all the stuff he did. Being reminded of it again today was no exception. The food was great as always and he enjoyed the old man’s stories. He even got a date planned, first since 1943. And still… He would never get used to this feeling. He did not know what time it was, neither did he care. He was lost in his thoughts, asking himself how he should confront Yori about his son. About how he should explain what the Winter Soldier had done to him. He barely even registered his surroundings as he took the long route home, He thought that somehow the rain could wash away his guilt. It never worked, of course. A female scream pulled him out of his trance and he immediately jumped into action. Sometimes he thanked the serum for his enhanced hearing as he could easily locate the screams origin. He rounded a corner and saw a man that was forcibly holding a woman in his embrace. The woman struggled to get free and was about to do something when her eyes fell on Bucky and she stopped all of her actions. In complete contrast to her, Bucky lunged forward with such a speed that he was just a blur. He grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it into an angle arms shouldn’t be in and pushed him to the ground. The woman, now free, scurried a bit away and Bucky didn’t register the way her eyes went wide. “Hey man, ouch, hey, be a bit gentler!” the man screeched and it made Bucky wince. “Just as gentle as you were to the lady over there. I guess you didn’t intend to hurt her and were just messing around, right?” “Yes! Yes, of course!” the man was near to a panic attack as Bucky released his grip, pulled him upwards and pushed him away. He nodded with his head along the street, signalling the man to get lost, which he gladly did. As Bucky turned around to the woman, he mustered her for a second. She did not look injured or otherwise affected. Her green hair was a bit messy and her business costume wrinkled but otherwise than that nothing caught his eyes. Well, nothing besides her almost golden like eyes, that were staring straight up at him. “Are you alright” Bucky found himself saying, stepping closer to the woman and reaching out his hand as if to touch her arm in a comforting way. She just folded her arms and smiled, showing her rows of white teeth. “Yes, thanks to you I am now.” She either was not bothered by the situation at all or was just immensely good at hiding it. “You should not walk around alone at this time. There are many people that will get advantage of that.” As he said these words, he picked up the umbrella the woman must have dropped during her unpleasant encounter and hold it up to her. She muttered a quiet thank you and took the umbrella, quickly covering herself as if it would help anything with her already soaked up state. “I’m usually snuggled up in my blanket with a hot cocoa at this hour but, you know… business and all.” She laughed nervously and paused for a moment, looking along the street, her brows furrowing for a second, before she turned to Bucky again, beaming up at him. “Thanks again for your help. I didn’t know how it would have ended if you didn’t show up. So, uhm… yeah. Thanks.” She turned and began to walk away. Her heels clicked on the stone, barely audible due to the rain. As Bucky stood there, he watched the woman slowly getting away. He did not even make a conscious thought about his next move, just followed his instinct. In just a second, he was by her side, keeping a decent distance though, and fell into step with her. She chuckled and a smile spread across her face. “So, you’re my bodyguard now?” She turned her head to Bucky and found him already watching her. One of the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Told you, it isn’t safe to walk alone at this time.” He simply stated while shrugging his shoulders and focusing his gaze ahead the street again. “What are the chances that I encounter a thief twice at the same night? Or…” she stopped abruptly and brought her hand dramatically over her golden

necklace that was loosely hanging around her neck. “Are you trying to rob me as well?” Bucky whipped his head into her direction and his look must have been so confused that she just began to laugh. “Oh, I was just kidding. Please don’t take it too seriously. I have terrible humour, sorry.” Bucky huffed and a chuckle left his throat. The woman shifted a bit closer so that their shoulders were mere inches apart from touching. She just did that so she could hold the umbrella over his head as well, protecting at least some part of him from being rained on. They walked along one another for quite some time, rounding corners and passing streets. They finally arrived in a part that was familiar to Bucky and he immediately got annoyed because this was actually pretty near to were his therapist is. Luckily for him, they slowed down and stopped before an old building that was slightly towering over the others. He immediately checked the parameter and was surprised to find large windows to his side giving away the view of a gallery. The woman however did not turn to the door of the gallery but rather to the one that was probably a side door to the building. “Thank you for walking with me. I felt a lot safer.” The woman said while underlining her sentences with a genuine smile. Bucky returned the smile and nodded. Fumbling for her keys, she holds the umbrella to Bucky for him to hold. He took it hastily and did not even register how fast the woman had the door open and winked at him while saying: “Keep it, don’t want my saviour to get soaked. Or even more, that is. Good night.” Before he could protest, she gently shut the door and the faint sound of heels against floor was heard from inside. He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before he turned around and began his journey to his own home. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he met the woman before. But the longer he rummaged through his brain, the more it started to hurt. * * * Bucky zoned out. He was just so tired and the rambling of his therapist did not help with that. He had another nightmare. Nothing unusual but he definitely was not in the mood to talk about it. “So, did you make any progress with your list?” This question brought Bucky back to reality. He shook his head. “It’s a bit hard tracking down some of them or rather getting to them without breaking two of your rules-” “Not my rules, James. Your rules. Those rules are not for me, remember?” The brunette interrupted him. He just rolled his eyes and hummed in annoyance. Yeah, definitely helped him a lot. One hundred percent. “Any other progress? What about the trust thing we talked about earlier?” One of her eyebrows was raised as she watched every muscle on Bucky’s face. He knew that and he knew that even the tiniest twitch could make her interpret something into it. So, he just stared blankly, expressionless as so often. The therapist let out a resigned breath and grabbed her notebook a bit too annoyed. “Oh really? That again? C’mon Doc.” “You know the drill, James. You won’t talk so I write.” Bucky rolled his eyes again, a common thing for him now. “Okay.” He finally gave in and the scribbling sound immediately stops. “It has nothing to do with my list. Or my trust in other people, which is fine, thank you very much. It’s more like something that felt… right to do.” He paused and fumbled nervously. He was not used to talk about such things. It would be comedic if it wasn’t that sad how he could kill this woman in front of him in about 37 ways with just the things in this room and not bat an eye, but is not able to open his mouth. After what felt like too long, he cleared his throat. “There was this woman. She was in a… not so great situation. Without thinking about it I helped her. And she did not care about the way I handled the situation. I mean it was the right thing to do. But… seeing her not afraid after all that happened, it was… weird.” Bucky did not know how to describe the situation and he definitely did not want to tell how he accompanied the woman home. The brunette just stared at him, her

face not giving away anything. She just gave him this look, this calculating one that send shivers down his spine. “You rescued a damsel in distress and felt good about it.” She concluded and Bucky blinked a few times about her bluntness. “That is a very noble thing, James, and something you should be proud of. You did not hurt anyone though, did you?” “No, of course not.” Bucky lied and got an approving hum from the woman across from him. “Thank you for sharing that with me, James. Now we can focus on that feeling that you had.” Bucky just grunted. * * * He exited the building where his therapist trapped him so often and flexed his metal arm. He heard the hissing and whirring it made and closed his eyes for a moment. He hated it. His grip tightened around the umbrella he still caried with him every step he goes. He told him himself that he would return it to the woman every time he left his home. That didn’t work too well so far. He grinded his teeth and searched his brain for any excuse to not go and return the umbrella. To be fair, he did not even know her name, nor if she were at home this time around. And it would probably let him look like a stalker if he just turned up on the doorstep or even worse, waited there. While he was collecting those thoughts, he was already moving into the direction of where he left the woman. He tried to curl into himself, which was actually pretty hard considering his form. Passing some fancy stores and shops on his way, he finally arrived at the gallery he remembered. He looked inside and saw a light flooded room with several walls that had some paintings on it. Bucky wasn’t an art critic but even he saw immediately that the main focus of this gallery wasn’t the few paintings that were probably just decorations but the various sculptures that were highlighted by spotlights around them. The former assassin shook his head and sorted his thoughts. He wasn’t here to look at some art. Just as he wanted to move past the gallery and on to the door beside it, he saw a flash of green from the corner of his eyes. His head snapped in its direction and his assumptions were confirmed. Inside the gallery stood the woman, wearing another business costume, her green hair flowing over her shoulder. She was currently talking to a pair in front of a sculpture. Now or never soldier. With nervous steps he entered the gallery and looked for possible escape routes and threats. Old habits die hard. Light classical music played in the background emphasizing the fact that this was a higher ranged gallery. A look on one of the statues prices only confirmed that. How could someone pay half a fortune for such things, Bucky would never understand. He didn’t mean to, but he just tuned into the conversation that the group of three had. It was a business talk, of course, and the pair was about to lose half a fortune. “Thank you so very much! I guarantee you both this sculpture will just look lovely in your living room. I’ll contact you concerning a date for the delivery after this beauty here is packed and ready.” Her smile never faltered and her eyes lit up while speaking the words. Bucky feigned interest in one of the stony images as the woman tapped on her tablet and then accompanied the pair to the door. In the corner of his eyes, he could see that she glanced at him for just a millisecond, registering his presence. After another thank you to the customers and exchanging goodbyes there was silence for a long stretching second. Bucky did not know how to proceed, his mind going blank. “Took you long enough to finally make the way inside.” The woman declared with a smirk that was clearly audible in her voice. Bucky didn’t really know what to answer and as if she sensed his confused mind, she elaborated while turning to him. “I’ve seen you strolling around the gallery for quite some time. Was wondering if it was coincidence or if you were actually interested in art.” Her smirk turned into a smile and he scratched his neck. “Well, it’s actually on my way to… work.” No need for her to know that he was seeing a

therapist. Not that it mattered anyway. “So, what can I help you with, Mr…?” She slowly approached him, raising her eyebrows at the end of her question. “Bucky.” He simply stated. The woman furrowed her brows. “Mr. Bucky? Sorry to say, but I’ve never heard such a surname.” ”Oh, uhm… no, Bucky is my normal name. Well, it’s actually James Bucky Barnes. But Bucky is just fine. Just Bucky.” He rambled and a light chuckle left her throat. Man, he really lost his charm. “And I just wanted to return your umbrella. Thought you might need it back.” As he holds the umbrella out to the woman, he noticed the slight widening of her eyes when he saw his gloves. He actually expected a remark about it or something like that but the woman just pushed his outstretched hand back and quirked up a brow while smirking mischievously. “Keep it. I have a feeling that it’s going to rain today. Just return it the next time you come and grab your coffee.” Was she really doing what he thought she was doing? He must have misheard that last part. Or at least he tried to convince himself of that. The last date he had a few days back didn’t went too well. And he didn’t know if he was okay with another one going downhill in such a short amount of time. “Yeah, that sounds good.” One of the corners of his mouth raised upwards as he first watched his fingers and then up again into the golden eyes of the woman. She just smiled in approval and opened her mouth to say something as the door opened and an older man strutted inside. She immediately turned her attention to that man and told him that she would be there in just a minute. “It’s a promise then?” her eyes were wide and full of hope. Bucky just had to nod. Without another word she turned around and started to tend to her new client. He awkwardly waved at her as a goodbye which she returned and then felt the gallery. That went better than expected. As Bucky set off to his home, he felt a few droplets of water fall on his face. It was starting to rain. He smiled to himself as he opened the umbrella, a small business card falling out of it. He picked it up and observed it. On the one side was a head with snakes around it, shimmering golden. A twist of the card revealed white letters that formed a telephone number and a name. Althaia Laskaris.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction #female!oc #female oc #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers

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mercuryonparklane · 3 years

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I just found this one-shot I wrote based on ‘betty’ that has been sitting in my notes since September. I thought I’d share, if anyone is interested in that. The characters belong to Taylor and her co-writers, of course. I just borrowed them for this fic.

‘Please, come over’

Jamie Mann stares at the text for far too long, watching those three little dots appear and, then, disappear once again. Betty hates sending more than one text in a row. Even more than that, she can't stand it when a message goes unanswered.

Still, Jamie can't quite think of what to say. Her mind flashes back to prom two weeks earlier and the boy who swayed Betty around the dance floor while she laughed at his stupid jokes. Betty told her that she isn't interested in boys, but damnit if she isn't very good at hiding that fact.

Jamie throws her phone down next to her on the bed and pulls the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. She fiddles with the strings of the sweatshirt until she hears the ding of a new message.

'I'm in front of your house. Get your ass out here and hop in.'

Jamie fights the smile on her face, but she can't help feeling a little less hurt in the moment. August was the kind of friend who could convince you to do things you would never even think to do. Like the time they hopped the fence at school on a Friday night to smoke in the softball dugout. Or the time August managed to sneak them into some gay club in the city. Or the time they almost ditched the cop trying to pull her over for running a red light. Okay, so maybe they weren't actually going to try to escape and maybe August's uncle happened to be the cop in question. But still...

Jamie grabs her backpack and puts it on as she heads down stairs.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"Mom, I literally just graduated high school last night and I turn 18 next month. I'm basically an adult."

Her mom pulls her into a hug. Jamie lets it happen for a few seconds before escaping her grasp. Mrs. Mann runs her fingers through her daughter's hair trying to fix it best she can.

"Hmm... that will have to do. Now, truthfully, where are you going? Yeah, yeah, I know you're all grown up now, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop worrying about you."

Jamie rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. "I'm staying over at August's. She's outside waiting for me, so can I go now?"

"Of course, dear. Have fun."

"Sure thing. Night, mom."

Jamie heads out the door and jogs to the midnight blue '67 Mustang idling in front of the driveway. She throws her backpack in the backseat before taking her spot in the passenger seat.

"So, what's the plan?"

"I was thinking we could go to that party Betty Davis is throwing."

A lump forms in Jamie's throat as she tries to come up with some excuse as to why they shouldn't go. August knows that Jamie is a lesbian, but she doesn't know anything about Betty. It was not something Betty wanted anyone to know about.

As far as anyone at school knew, Betty and Jamie were acquaintances at best. Betty was head cheerleader and Jamie was basically a skater burnout. Betty was class president and Jamie wasn't even on most of her teacher's radars. Betty was going to Yale next year. Jamie was going to a state school. Betty came from money. Jamie's mom worked two jobs to send her to private school. They weren’t exactly the likeliest of friends and no one would ever guess they were more than that.

"Come on, please? Don't you want to know what the popular kids get up to on the weekends?"

"Nah, it sounds pretty lame. I'd rather hang out just the two of us before you take your little road trip around the county, which I still can't believe your parents agreed to."

"You should come with me."

"What?"

"We would have so much fun. Besides I'm a little scared about driving around by myself."

Jamie scoffs, "You? Why, August Adams you are the bravest person I have ever known. What could possibly scare you?"

"I don't know... a car accident, rapists, serial killers, muggers, creatures..."

"Okay, I get it. I just mean... you've been planning this trip for two years. Wasn't it supposed to be some great big adventure of self-discovery?"

August shrugs. "I already know who I am. I'm a bisexual goddess, who is going to be the CEO of a major corporation someday, and no one can stop me. But also I'm just a girl sitting in front a girl, asking her to join me on the trip of a lifetime."

Jamie's heart skips a beat. She loves Betty so deeply, but being with her was torture. It would have been four more years of hiding. 'Just until we graduate college,’ Betty's words echo in her head. Four years is a long time and Jamie is sick of hiding. August came out Sophomore year and didn't care about what anyone thought of her.

"You know what, that sounds amazing."

August squeals and leans across the center console to wrap her arms around Jamie. "We're going to have so much fun, James!"

They never went to Betty’s party. Instead they drove to 7-Eleven, bought snacks and slurpees, and spent the rest of the night at the one skate park in town.

It took a bit of convincing before her mom felt comfortable letting her go on the five week trip. The fact that August had family sprinkled along their route, with whom they would be staying most of the time, helped to reassure her. August created an itinerary for Jamie's mom, so she would have an idea of where they would be and with whom.

A week into the trip, Jamie gets an unexpected text.

'I heard you left town with August Adams. Thanks for the heads up. Hope you have fun.'

The three dots show up and disappear, then reappear once again.

And finally, after almost a minute, 'I hear she's a great lay.'

Jamie doesn't even reply. Her blood boils just a bit. They'd never officially broken things off, but seeing Betty kiss that boy on the dance floor was the last straw. Jamie didn't want to hide anymore. She wanted a girlfriend who's hand she could hold while walking down the street.

So, she got one. Sort of. The text kind of sent her into overdrive and she may have decided to see if all the rumors about August were true. They were. She definitely knew what she was doing and it was nice, but it wasn't the same as it had been with Betty. It was lust. There was no romance in it. At least not on Jamie's part.

Unfortunately, she had no idea the other girl had wanted this since they were Freshmen. It killed Jamie to tell her the truth. August was beautiful and fun and clever, but Jamie's heart belonged to someone else. She confessed everything about her relationship with Betty and how she wished she had gone to that party the night after graduation.

August won't tell anyone. She might be hurt, but she wasn't heartless. She'd never out someone nor would she ever try to get back at Jamie. They did decide to give each other some space. In fact, they only met up once more that summer. It was the day before August was set to leave for school. They hugged awkwardly and promised to keep in touch and to hang out over Thanksgiving break. They didn't keep those promises.

Betty doesn't message her again. Jamie rides past the girl's house on her skateboard almost every day for a month before she finally gets the nerve to text her.

'Hey, I'm near your house. Can we talk?'

She sits on the curb across the street from Betty's house for an embarrassingly long amount of time before she finally gives up. She stops riding by her house.

It's not until her mom drags her to the mall insisting she needs a new wardrobe for college that she finally sees Betty again. She catches sights of the girl from the store across the way and she tells her mom she'll be right back. She's about to step into the store, but someone grabs her by the wrist and drags her towards an empty service hallway. Jamie's heart stutters until she realizes who exactly has a hold on her.

"What the hell, Inez?"

Inez roughly releases her grasps once they are out of the earshot of passersby.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Me?! What do you think you're doing."

Inez rolls her eyes. "Stay away from her, you freak!"

"What gives you the right to tell me what to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that Betty told me all about how you're desperately in love with her and tried to put the moves on her and that's why she had to switch homerooms. Which I said was weird because as far as I knew you were off playing Thelma and Louise with August Adams. So just, like, leave her alone. She's not... like you."

Jamie bites her tongue. There is so much she wants to say, but it would only make things worse. "Whatever. Maybe you should tell your friend not to flatter herself."

Occasionally, over the next few years, Jamie checks Betty's social media accounts, looking for any hint that one of the girls in her pictures were more than just a friend. Jamie thinks about the night after high school graduation often. She fantasizes about what would have happened if she had gone to Betty's party. Would the girl have finally kissed her in front of their classmates? Was she already drunk when she sent that message? Had she finally been ready to say 'fuck it all' and let everyone know she wasn't who they thought she was?

Jamie will probably never know. But she spends her college years chasing the feeling she had when she was with Betty. There were a couple of women who she thought she had been in love with. Maybe she had been, but there was always this one piece of her heart that hung on to past love.

She dates quite a bit the first couple of years after college, until she eventually gets into a committed relationship. It's great for a while. It lasts four and a half years. She's devastated when it ends. But also, a part of her is relieved. It doesn't really make sense until that next Thanksgiving weekend when her high school class is having its ten year reunion.

She contemplates not going, but she's already R.S.V.P.'d and she's already going to be in town to celebrate Thanksgiving with her family. So, she musters up the courage to go.

The first person she recognizes is August Adams. The other woman greets her with a tight hug.

"James! How are you? God, it's been too long."

"It has."

It really has. Jamie missed her friend. She screwed it all up so much back when they were kids. But the woman still had this brightness that radiated from her and Jamie let herself bask in it.

"Oh, you have to meet my wife," August wraps her arm around the waist of a gorgeous brunette, "This is Autumn. I know, I know. Don't even start."

Jamie chuckles, but keeps quiet. After catching up and seeing way too many pictures of August's kid (she was a proud mom and it was kind of cute, to be honest), Jamie was left alone when the other woman found another old friend to talk to. She didn't mind. It gave her a chance to finally get to the bar and get a drink.

Jamie orders a whiskey on the rocks.

"I'll take one of those too, please," a voice speaks from beside her.

Jamie turns her head and takes in the sight before her. Betty hasn't changed much. If anything, she's even more attractive than she was all those years ago.

"Hi."

"Uhh..." Jamie clears her throat, "Hey."

Betty bites her lower lip, a smirk forming on her face anyway. "You look..." Her eyes scan Jamie's body and Jamie shifts a bit under her gaze, "good."

"That's all." Jamie elbows her playfully. The bartender sets their drinks in front of them. Jamie lifts the glass to her mouth.

"Let me try that again. You look incredible in that suit, but all I can think about is what you'd look like out of it."

Jamie chokes on her drink, pounding her chest with her fist as she coughs. Betty quirks her eyebrows and smirks smugly, while Jamie tries to gain some sense of control over her own body again.

"Umm... wow, that... I wouldn't mind..."

"Are you here with anyone?"

"No. I'm actually single at the moment. You?"

Betty doesn't even bother to answer. Instead she kisses Jamie. It takes a moment for Jamie to register what is happening, but eventually she gets a hold of herself and reciprocates the kiss, matching the passion of the woman in front of her.

There are a couple of 'whoops' from former classmates and a 'Get it, Davis' before Betty pulls away.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

How could Jamie say no to that? After that kiss? After ten years of dreaming about this moment? She couldn't.

"Definitely."

'Out of here' isn't very far. It's actually a room at the hotel where the reunion was being hosted, but really it was better than Jamie could have ever dreamed.

As they lay together in the afterglow, Betty runs her fingers through Jamie's curly, golden locks. Jamie rests her head on Betty's chest, her fingers tracing random patterns across Betty's toned abs.

"You're still as fit as you were back then."

Betty buries her face in Jamie's hair. Jamie feels the laughter rumble through the other woman's chest at the comment. "Really? Those are your first words after everything?"

"I can't help it, when you look like this."

"You're not so bad yourself."

Jamie looks up at Betty incredulously, "I'm sexy as hell."

"Hmm... I mean, you're attractive, sure. 'Sexy as hell', may be a touch too far."

"Oh, yeah?" Jamie smiles up at her as she moves her hand down Betty's abdomen. "Let me show you a touch too far."

Being with Betty makes Jamie feel like she's 17 again. All the years away from the girl did nothing to quell her desire to be as close to her as humanly possible. Somehow it was like a part of Jamie's heart had finally found its place again. It was a part that she thought had long been lost and she had resigned herself to the fact that the puzzle would sit there in her chest missing that one piece forever.

Maybe she didn't know much back when they were kids, but she knew one thing that would always ring true: Betty Davis is, has always been, and will always be her person.

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betterdaysareatoenailaway · 3 years

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Sleep Tight For Me...I’m Gone

Lately I’ve been writing these Better Days Are A Toenail Away™️ posts in Microsoft Word, selecting all and changing the font to Garamond, which is so readable and beautiful, and posting the Word docs, paragraphs by paragraph, inside these Tumblr drafts. It makes things look nice, to my old fashioned sensibilities, but fixing errors is a time-consuming and needlessly convoluted four-step process.

First, I have to copy, then delete the paragraph containing the error. Then I open the doc. and paste the error-ridden paragraph back into Word. After I find and fix the error, I need to save it and copy and paste it back into the post. It's time-consuming because I’m not just copying a paragraph. As you can see from more recent post, what I copied looked more like a photograph of the paragraph, not the words themselves written in Tumblr’s default font Arial. For an example of this, see below. I like the way it looks like old newspaper clippings. I posted an article about how my fent dealer John Smith kept getting robbed, and had resorted to putting a machete in front of his front door as a way of preventing this, a lever of sorts, which is plainly visible in the video I posted,

So today I’ve given up on trying to make my posts look like books or zines, and have given into the Tumblr font, which is about as pretty as a horse with his snout shot off.

There are two much longer posts I’m working on right now, one about Nirvana and one about Soundgarden, respectively, and how both bands were very unlike their public perception, but those posts are taking a lot of work so I’m putting them on the backburner because today is some dumbass corporation’s day where it tries to synthesize mental health and profit and the end result is as baldly capitalist and clumsy as you would expect.

I’m not gonna name the company, or repeat their stupid fucking slogan. As far as I can tell (which isn't very far), talking about my trauma has never made me feel better. And in fact it has sometimes made me feel worse, because in telling you what hurts and scares me, I’ve given a part of myself away that I can’t get back. When you’re like me, and you’ve lost everything multiple times, sometimes the only form of power you have is how you choose, or do not choose, to tell your story. And in a world where everybody wants to tell “their truth,” silence is power.

You don’t get to know me, sorry. I’m not gonna hand you my life, both my bad and good experiences, and conclude: “Welp, that’s why I’m so fucked up. Case closed.”

Honestly, I used to be a little confused, or miffed that my former partner (who is an amazing person btw, in every respect) almost never spoke about some of the traumatic things she’d experienced in her past. I took it as a sign that she either didn’t trust me, or she didn’t think I would be a sympathetic listener, or the mere fact of my gender precluded her from sharing because I couldn’t truly understand what it was she had gone through. It’s not like I ever asked her to talk about it, but I did say, once or twice, “hey if you ever wanna talk about that stuff, I’m around.” She never took me up on it, and I let it go.

But as I watched her, and saw her life unfold, over the years we spent together, I began to realize I wasn’t exactly in any position to be telling her how to live her life or how to be mentally healthy. After all, she has found success in a number of avenues, both creative and occupational, and I’ve found neither. I'm not saying the fact that she didn't talk much about her trauma is the reason for her success. I'm saying that she's forged a better path through life than I have, and maybe I should take a cue from that.

She never told me what to do, per se. It was more like living by example. But because I’m pretty dense, and a severe addict, our time together actually sorta reminds me now of that Cornell lyric from his first record: She’s going to change the world. But she can’t change me.

I have certainly found that talking about how shitty my life is only makes me feel more shitty, not free, or unburdened, or better. If you wanna talk about your problems, and you find it helpful, more power to you. Just don’t wait for a corporation to tell you it’s okay to not be okay.

When Chris Cornell died I was so shocked. Of all the grunge icons he seemed the most stable, and he'd survived the rise and fall of two major label rock bands. If anyone had survived the media machine that chewed up and spat out Staley, Cobain, and to a lesser extent Andrew Wood and Shannon Hoon, it was Cornell. He would be the last guy to support hashtag activism like #StarbucksMyLifeSucks. Chris Cornell actually loved to fuck with the best laid plans of corporate rats. Molson once had a few promotional concerts in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, called Molson Canadian Rocks Arctic, with both Hole and Soundgarden playing to a crowd of flown-in grunge fans and bemused locals. But the whole anti-corporate thing grunge was known for actually came through when Courtney Love told the crowd she “use[d] Molson Canadian to douche.” Lol. Here’s a photo of Love arriving in Tuktoyatuk.

Cornell told the same people “so we’re here because of some beer company? Labatt’s?” Both artists’ jabs are funny. Cornell’s was a bit more subtle, but that’s what Cornell was like.

So today’s post is about Chris Cornell’s suicide, more specifically the media’s reaction to it. For whatever reason, when Cornell died, every single news outlet, from CNN to Fox to CBC, posted “Black Hole Sun,” as if it’s the only song he ever fucking wrote, or – and this is far worse – the only song he wrote that’s worth hearing. The problem with this is more than twofold or threefold. It's fucking hydraheaded.

Not only is “Black Hole Sun” a mediocre piece of music, it’s a complete misrepresentation of Soundgarden’s sound.

Now, I’m a huge fan of the A.V. Club series HateSong, in which public figures gleefully talk shit about the one song they hate more than any other song in the world. The Max Bemis (Say Anything) one where he talks about Nirvana’s “Rape Me” as a terrible rewrite of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is terrific, but comedian Anthony Jeselnik’s HateSong takes “Black Hole Sun” apart, and I love it. I think the best line is: I think the more I hear it, the worse it gets. AVC: After the song became a huge hit, Chris Cornell said that he’d written it in about 15 minutes. AJ: I totally believe that. I don’t believe that Soundgarden likes that song. Like, I remember Eminem once said that he knew his song “My Name Is” was going to be a huge hit because the first time he heard it he was annoyed. It’s something about an annoying song that just grabs onto people. But I don’t think that anyone likes “Black Hole Sun.” I’ve never heard of anyone who likes it. I don’t understand why it gets played so much. It’s become a summer jam, and it’s not a summer song at all. Jeselnik is right that Soundgarden didn’t think much of the song. Guitarist Kim Thayil wasn’t kidding when he disparagingly called it the “Dream On” of their live show. And Cornell himself, known for a meticulous approach to his songwriting, had admitted that with “Black Hole Sun”was “probably the closest to me just playing with words for words’ sake, of anything I’ve written. I guess it worked for a lot of people who heard it, but I have no idea how you'd begin to take that one literally.” I mean it’s obvious from the opening lines that Cornell is just playing with words and how they sound: in my eyes/indisposed/in disguises no one knows What songs would have been more appropriate for Cornell’s untimely death? Glad you asked! Cuz there’s like…fucking at least ten that would have been better. I’m not tryna be one of those “the deep album cuts are better maaaaaan,” but with Soundgarden, it happens to be true. With some bands, the single are their best work. With other bands, the singles are the hors d’oeuvres for the entrees. So what deep cuts would have celebrated Cornell’s death a bit better? Well, to begin with, Superunknown’s strange and stately closer “Like Suicide” would have worked, for obvious reasons.

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“Tighter and Tighter,” a song that is actually about the moment of death and what it might feel like, is one of my all-time fav Soundgarden songs. Not only is it a creepy and prescient prediction of what Cornell’s death by hanging himself may have felt like, it’s opening line is a good description of the personification of death: Shadow face/Blowing smoke and talking wind

Another sample lyric: “A sucking holy wind will take me from this bed tonight/and bloody wits another hits me and I have to say goodbye/sleep tight for me, I’m gone/and I hope it’s a sweet ride/here for me tonight/cuz I’m feel I’m going/feel I’m slowing down.”

The morning after Cornell’s death hit the news my buddy and bandmate James told me that en route to work his phone, which was playing music randomly through his car speakers, landed on “Tighter and Tighter” and he had to pull over because he was tearing up.

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“Fell On Black Days” is another song about depression and mortality. Cornell had the following to say about the song: “Fell on Black Days” was like this ongoing fear I’ve had for years ... It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything’s going well, things are exciting—when all of a sudden you realize you’re unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared. There's no particular event you can pin the feeling down to, it's just that you realize one day that everything in your life is fucked!

Now, if that’s not a cogent and even-tempered explanation of suicidal thoughts, what is? Why else would Cornell have admitted to being “really really scared” by his depression unless he knew what that depression could ultimately leasd to? Here’s some lyrics to “Fell on Black Days.” Dig the high literary use of “whomsoever” and “whatsoever.” Whatsoever I’ve feared has come to life Whatsoever I fought off became my life Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile sunspots have faded and now I’m doing time cuz I fell on black days

Whomsoever I’ve cured I’ve sickened now Whomsoever I’ve cradled...I put you down I’m a searchlight soul they say but I can’t see it in the night I’m only faking when I get it right I sure don’t mind a change but I fell on black days how would I know that this could be my fate?

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Eagle-eared listeners might think this version different from the album version. They are right. The rendition in the video was recorded live off the floor @ Bad Animals, the Seattle studio owned by Heart, where Soundgarden would record Down on the Upside.

“Boot Camp” is a scary meditation about loss of agency that for years was tied with Zeppelin’s “I'm Gonna Crawl” for Creepiest Song to Cap a Discography, until Soundgarden reunited and released King Animal.

“Taree” is about ghost light, influencing events after dying and features Cornell’s most exhausted, convincing “yeah” @ 2:57.

“Applebite” is a Matt Cameron-penned ponderous clunker about Adam’s original expulsion from Eden. Doomy and death-laden.

“Let Me Drown” is a song about letting someone die.

“The Day I Tried To Live” is frequently cited as Soundgarden’s finest achievement, its odd time signature somehow sounds straight, thanks to Matt Cameron’s brilliant time keeping.

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“4th of July” is a song about a post apocalyptic urban landscape, where the speaker isn’t sure whether he is seeing fireworks or bombs.

“Limo Wreck” is a cool death song and has an eerie 9-11 prediction. “Building the towers belongs to the sky/when the whole thing comes crashing down don’t ask me why.”

ANY of the above songs would have been better than that fucking asinine dirge-like major key fuckaround that has somehow not just become Soundgarden's signature song...but their ONLY song.

Does nobody remember Johnny Cash covering “Rusty Cage?”

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“Outshined?”

“Burden In My Hand?”

“Blow Up The Outside World?”

Did none of these other songs get stuck in the electric head? (The electric head is Rob Zombie’s term for the technologically advanced culture we have found ourselves enmeshed in, or imprisoned by. It was the subtitle for White Zombie’s 1995 hit album Astro-Creep 2000: Songs of Love, Destruction, and other Synthetic Delusions of the Electric Head.)

For my money (which ain’t much honey), the song that best fits both Cornell’s artistic integrity and the sad circumstances of his suicide is “Tighter and Tighter.” I once wrote a whole article on the way artists use “yeah” as a placeholder or as a way to convey emotion when words themselves aren’t adequate. Dig that tired, world-weary exhausted “yeah” at 5:35 of “Tighter & Tighter.”

Or the creepy line going into the first chorus: remember this...remember everything’s just black or burning sun. Not that I agree with such a bleak worldview. It’s a writer’s line. And Randy Bachman has said, “when you’re a writer, you’d step over your own mother.” That’s the Cornell I want to remember. Not that he would step over his own mother. By all accounts he was a committed family man. I mean, I want to remember the Cornell who created strange atmospheric sonic worlds, who explored the dark side that sadly, eventually won out. His otherworldly beautiful music is what I choose to remember about Chris Cornell, not his estate tastelessly exploiting “Black Hole Sun” by using a line from the song to title a posthumous Cornell album of covers No One Sings Like You Anymore. Sigh.

First Cornell’s widow said this was “Chris’s last album.” Okay. What about the Soundgarden songs he recorded vocals for before he died? Kim Thayil was pretty diplomatic about it when asked recently. Cornell did record vocal tracks for the follow up to King Animal.

Kim Thayil: “Given our love for Chris, I do not see us reconfiguring without him.”

But he makes it clear in this interview that Cornell’s widow Vicky has those tracks and won’t release them to the band. Maybe because she blames the band for Chris dying that night? She’s not wrong to believe that they would have known, and seen, what kind of shape Cornell was in, at least at the venue, maybe not later at the hotel.

Kim Thayil: “It’s entirely possible that a new Soundgarden album will be released. Certainly. All it would need is to take the audio files that are available. I tighten up the guitars. Ben does the bass. We get the producers we want to make it sound like a Soundgarden record.”

Interviewer: “Is there an obstacle stopping that?”

Kim Thayil: “There shouldn’t be. There really isn’t. Other than the fact that we don’t have those files.”

Interviewer: “They’re not under your auspices?”

Kim Thayil: “Right. It would be ridiculous if [the record wasn’t made]. But these are difficult things. Partnerships and...property.”

You’re just gonna keep those wav files? And why title his covers album Volume 1 if it’s his “last album?”

Oh right. $$$

No one does sing like Cornell, but is “Black Hole Sun” really the best thing he ever did? The best song he ever sang? Should an album of covers be the last thing he gives to the world?

The only honest answer is no.

Sleep tight Chris. You’re gone.

#betterdaysareatoenailaway #soundgarden #chris cornell #suicide

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blkmxrvel · 4 years

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Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (15) - [CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

A/N: once again i’ve fallen in love with this story and read it officially now 6 times. I’ve converted the rest of this series so, get read guys! we will be on a loving kara danvers spree until the new year lmao! enjoy. also, in this chapter and this chapter only, kara is short. i totally forgot about this part and there literally nothing i could do to fix it without having to change the story and, this isn’t my work so.

Kara parked her car in the lot, and practically skipped up the walk towards Nia’s little home behind Mount Overland House. Ever since she’d come home from the seminar that morning she’d felt like she’d been walking on air. Then again, that may have started the night before, when Y/N called and asked her out on a date.

Kara had always thought she’d be the one to ask Y/N out on a date. It would be romantic, possibly in the park. They’d walk together around the pond, hand in hand, not saying anything but simply being together. And from her research Kara would know that the sun would set at exactly 5:39 p.m., and she’d watch the sky for the first blush of pink to appear before she would turn to Y/N with a soft smile on her face and ask the perfect question, at the perfect moment.

“Y/N Hastings, will you go out with me?”

Not that she’d been thinking about it, or planning it, of course.

And ordinarily if anyone had beaten her to the punch and disrupted her carefully not-planned romantic gesture, she would be upset. But the quiet, nervous and halting way in which Y/N had asked her, just before they’d said good night…

“Miss Kara, I w-was wondering if you’d m-maybe like to go out on a-a date with me…”

That trailing off, that soft uncertainty, of being so unsure of herself and what she thought Kara might feel... Kara had found herself saying yes, yes, absolutely, of course, without even a second thought to her own plans and sense of melodrama. Y/N had cast the line in her own way and Kara was hooked. Not only was she hooked but she was sunk, because Y/N had sounded so relieved, so shyly proud of herself when she’d refused to tell Kara where they were going, only saying that she’d fixed everything already and Kara only needed to wear something casual but comfortable, and would she please mind picking Y/N up?

So there was a present wrapped in white and tied with a green ribbon waiting in the car, and Kara was wearing a pair of checkered shorts under a black top, with knee-high black boots to match, her heart was fluttering wildly as she knocked on the door to pick up her date.

But it was Nia who answered the door, not Y/N, and she grinned at Kara. “Before I let you in, I must ask you, what are your intentions with my houseguest?”

Kara raised an eyebrow, and Nia laughed, throwing the door open wider. “Come on in, Miss Zor-El, Y/N’s been running around the house all morning a nervous wreck waiting for you.”

“I have not.”

Kara turned and the heart that had been fluttering skipped a beat. It amazed her how in even jeans and a shirt Y/N could look beautiful, but this time she’d done her hair up instead of letting it fall on her shoulders, and somehow she looked even more breathtaking than usual. She smiled at Kara, a light blush on her cheeks as Kara simply couldn’t stop staring.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, I adore it,” Kara said. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around Y/N in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you, Miss Kara.”

She’d missed her too; it had surprised Kara just how much. She was used to being alone, at her home and in the hotels for seminars, and it hadn’t ever bothered her, not much at least. She had her albums and Theo, her TV shows and Alex and Maggie, her dads. But then Y/N had come into her life and made a home in a little piece of Kara’s heart, and now the house seemed too big, the hotels dirty and lonely, and the albums of love and longing had taken on even more meaning.

It wasn’t that during the few days she was gone she thought about Y/N constantly; she had a job to do and it was easy enough for Kara to get distracted even without Y/N in the picture. But if she didn’t actively think about her except when calling, texting, or buying her gift, Y/N was still ever-present in the back of her mind, a quiet safety or security that was almost like the bracelet Kara wore around her wrist.

Twice during the seminar when she was supposed to be paying attention, Kara had found herself playing with it, and wondering what it would be like to switch it to the other side.

Kara let Y/N go and smiled at her. “I missed you too. Don’t you want to tell me where we’re going?”

Y/N pretended to consider it, and Kara nearly rolled her eyes; this one had a bit of the brat in her, apparently. “Nope,” Y/N finally said, sounding merry. “You’ll find out soon enough, Miss Kara. But we should go so we’re not late.”

“Late for what?”

“Nice try.”

“Have her home by midnight!” Nia called after them, and Kara shook her head, but couldn’t help but laugh when Y/N did.

Kara held open the passenger door for Y/N then made her way around to the driver’s side, grinning a little when she climbed in and saw Y/N eyeing the present. “That’s for after our date,” she said, and this time did roll her eyes when Y/N pouted. “Good things come to those who wait, Y/N.”

“I think I’ve waited long enough…”

Kara glanced over, and moved her right hand off the steering wheel to rest on Y/N’s knee. It was sobering, really, how quickly a happy moment could be overshadowed by him, like a spectre that they couldn’t stop from hanging over them. She briefly wondered if the evil that was James Hudson would always be there, or if they’d ever make it past him.

“But you know,” Y/N added, her own hand coming to rest on top of Kara’s, “Some things are worth waiting a lifetime for.”

“When did you get so romantic, Y/N Hastings?” Kara teased, relief flooding her.

Y/N smiled. “Right around the time I met you, I think,” she said. “Please turn left here, Miss Kara.”

It was cute, the way she framed her requests; Kara could tell by the slight way Y/N’s hand clutched the car door that she wasn’t fully comfortable still, with asking things or giving “orders.” But there was also a determined look on her face, as if she was going over the directions in her head, focused on getting them to wherever they were going successfully. And that only made Kara more eager to know exactly where they were going.

“So you had a good time at the park the other day with Alex and Maggie?” Kara asked, keeping her eyes on the road while remaining hyper-aware of Y/N’s fingers lightly curling around the hand on her knee.

“I did, yes, Miss Kara,” Y/N nodded. “I think… I don’t know, I- she-“

Kara glanced at her. “Y/N?”

“Alex’s a good Dominant,” Y/N blurted suddenly, then chewed her lower lip. “She… she’s really good. Turn right here.”

This was the same route Kara took when… hmm. The excitement grew a little bit stronger within her; could it be that Y/N had… But she pulled her thoughts away from their date and back to the words the woman next to her had spoken. She’d said it with so much wonder, such surprise, and it pained Kara to think of just how much Y/N expected every Dominant she came into contact with to be like her former one. But it was worse when the person was male, because it was a man who had inflicted every inch of pain on her body and every flicker of hurt into her heart. For Y/N to start realizing that maybe, just maybe not every male Dominant was a bad one… Kara felt that peculiar warm feeling again, and she turned her hand over, locking her fingers with Y/N.

“She really loves Maggie.”

“She really does,” Kara agreed. She paused, and then added, “It’s amazing how beautiful our lives can be when we have someone to really love us.”

Y/N nodded with a small smile, and then her eyes lit up. “We’re here, Miss Kara.”

Kara’s mouth dropped open as the theater came into view. The marquee for Wicked seemed to shine like diamonds in the afternoon sun, and if she hadn’t been driving she would’ve clapped her hands like a child in her excitement. “Wicked?” she exclaimed. “We’re going to see Wicked?”

Y/N’s smile grew as she watched Kara in amusement. “Yes. Alex helped me decide and I ordered the tickets…”

“But how did you know I love the theater?”

“You… put the numbers in my phone.”

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t hinting or anything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Kara.

Kara shivered a little. “… Are you sure you’re not Dominant, because that eyebrow.”

“Do you know where to park?” Y/N asked, laughing a little.

“Of course I do,” Kara said with a huff, still scarcely able to believe that Y/N had been able to pull all of it off. Mixed in with the excitement was no small amount of pride, that Y/N had orchestrated the whole thing without much help. Still, she’d have to give Alex a high-five later; she always knew exactly what Kara liked even if she pretended not to.

Kara parked on the upper deck and turned the car off, moving to exit but stopped, because Y/N was rooted to her seat and now clinging to her hand. Kara’s brow furrowed in confusion before it cleared with the realization. Y/N may have organized their date, ordered the tickets and gotten them here successfully, but the parking deck was full. Which meant a full theater, which meant a lot of people, which meant… terrified Y/N. Kara shut the car door and turned towards her, holding her hand gently.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said quietly. “We could have had a picnic somewhere, or played board games at Nia’s. This is a lot for you to take on, Y/N.”

“I-I know,” Y/N stuttered, her voice shaky, “But I wanted to. You like the theater and I… I like you. You’ve been so good to me, Miss Kara; I wanted to do something good for you. But I’m scared.”

“And that’s okay.” Kara sat in the car, silent for a moment, before finally saying, “How about this. We’ll go in and have a look around, and if we decide we want to stay we can. I’ll be right there with you, and I’m not going to be upset if you can’t do it. All right?”

“You promise you won’t be mad, Miss Kara?”

Kara squeezed Y/N’s hand. “I could never get mad at you for that. And like I said, I’ll be right there with you. I know you can do it.”

Y/N hesitated, and then nodded. “Okay. I really do want to see it. From the description it sounds as if Elphaba isn’t evil, only misunderstood.”

“Keep talking like that and I might fall in love with you.”

“Did you know that the Clock of the Time Dragon’s wingspan is the same as a Cessna 172?”

“Stop it.”

Y/N giggled and fell into step with Kara as they walked towards the front of the theater. They paused at the ticket counter, and Y/N swallowed hard, taking a deep breath.

“Two tickets, reserved under Y/N Hastings.”

A second went by as the man pulled up their account, then handed the tickets to them with a smile. Kara beamed at Y/N, who grinned back.

Once at the door, Kara stopped and looked at Y/N. She held out her hand, saying nothing, only smiling.

Y/N took her hand, and they walked into the theater together.

Instantly Kara felt at home. The theater was swamped, but these were her people, her family in addition to her dads and Alex and Maggie. It was where she felt whole, complete. It was where she knew she belonged. She’d spent her life preparing for a life in New York, to be a Broadway star bolstered by her talent and the love of the submissive that would be waiting for her after every show. She’d been accepted to one of the premier drama schools just prior to graduating from National City Academy, and Kara Zor-El knew her star was on the rise.

And then her dad had gotten sick.

Randy Zor-El’s illness hadn’t been fatal, and both Kara and her other father had thanked God about that, but it was enough to keep him out of work for almost a year, and since David Zor-El couldn’t quit his job to care for his husband, the task had fallen on Kara. Well, she’d actually volunteered, refusing to even entertain the idea of some strange nurse coming in to care for her father. As a spoiled only child doted on by her daddies, Kara had felt it only fair – and necessary – that she stay behind and temporarily postpone her dreams of going to New York.

Her father hadn’t been sick again ever since his illness had faded away, but Kara’s New York dreams had been postponed ever since. Alex had helped find her a job within the government, and now Kara’s life was wrapped around SETS.

So she craved every chance she got to go to the theater in National City, or occasionally to a show in Columbus. For a few short hours it was a chance to immerse herself back in that life, to imagine what if. What if she was in New York? What if she was just finishing up a show, and was opening the door to her dressing room to find Y/N there, kneeling in wait for her?

She felt Y/N’s hand tighten in hers and Kara came back to the present, pulling the woman slightly closer to her. “You’re all right,” she reassured gently. “No one’s going to hurt you, I wouldn’t let them.” Y/N nodded at her, her face pinched and white as her eyes darted here and there, looking at everyone and everything before finally settling on one of the souvenir counters.

“Do you want to go look?” Kara asked. “You might find something you like.”

Y/N gasped, her eyes widening. “I forgot to bring money,” she said, sounding heartbroken.

“Hey, that’s all right,” Kara soothed, hating the way Y/N’s eyes were tearing up. “I can buy my own souvenirs, and I tell you what, if you want anything, I can get it and you can pay me back, okay?”

Y/N chewed her lip, seeming uncertain, but she nodded. Kara walked them over to the souvenir counter, her own eyes wide with green and pink, the Grimmerie, snow globes, the Emerald City glasses…

The Emerald City glasses. Y/N was staring at them, an excited grin on her face, and Kara fought back a giggle. Out of all the things, the sunglasses were what captured her interest? She poked Y/N’s arm lightly.

“Do you want those?”

“No, that’s all right, I forgot to bring money.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as Kara turned to the woman behind the counter and said “One pair Emerald City glasses, please, thank you.”

“You look adorable,” Kara said, once she’d made Y/N try them on. “My little Ozian.”

Y/N took the glasses off and looked at Kara, her gaze searching. “Your little Ozian?”

“Yes, well. Ahem.” Kara cleared her throat, feeling awkward, but was saved by the gentle tone sounding through the lobby that told them it was nearly show time. “We should find our seats!”

It didn’t take them long, because Y/N had reserved them fourth row seats, and Kara was absolutely not ashamed that she squealed when she discovered this. Still, her happiness was short-lived (and she’d forever hate that pun, thank you very much) when she sat down and realized that the person immediately in front of her would prevent, by virtue of his ample height, any good view of the stage. She sighed and rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, leaning her chin on her hand.

“Miss Kara?” Y/N said, glancing at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” Kara said, and then waved her other hand in the general direction of the man in front of her. “I’ll just have a nice muscle strain after this is over from attempting to see the stage.” She offered Y/N a small smile, hoping that she wasn’t sounding ungrateful. “I’m perfectly used to it, being shorter does have its disadvantages.”

Y/N nodded, looking from Kara to the stage to the man, then back at Kara again. “You could um… no, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“I could what?”

“Sit on my lap? T-that way you could see, and no one is in front if me so I’d be able to see just fine too, and… but it’s a dumb idea.”

It was cute, the way Y/N sat nervously with her hands in her lap, a few loose tendrils of hair falling into her face and making her look even more gorgeous than she already did, if that was possible, Kara thought. But she also thought that this wasn’t the way things were done. Dominants weren’t supposed to sit in the laps of their submissives – but wait, Y/N wasn’t even hers. So maybe… she glanced at the back of the head of the person in front of her, then over at Y/N.

In seconds she had moved over and was sitting in Y/N’s lap.

“O-oh,” Y/N said, startled, slowly moving her hands up so that her arms wrapped around Kara’s waist, holding loosely. “Are you… comfortable, Miss Kara?”

“Very,” Kara said, taking a deep breath and relaxing so that she leaned back against Y/N. She felt Y/N’s chin come to rest on her shoulder, and Kara smiled, once again feeling warm and happy. She opened her mouth to speak when a sarcastic voice at her left stopped her.

“Don’t you need to get into costume, munchkin?”

Kara tensed in spite of herself, in spite of being so used to these jokes. She’d been called worse, during her time at the Academy; if it hadn’t been for Alex she wouldn’t have had any friends at all, really. She knew they all envied her talent, her ability to make jaws drop and eyes water with a simple note sung with power at the end of a song. Her classmates showed their jealousy with insults about her height or whatever else they could think of, and despite her best efforts to not let it bother her, some days were easier than others.

“Sir, I think you might want to be quiet so that you’re not asked to leave.”

Kara craned her neck around to look at Y/N in shock. Y/N’s eyes were dark with anger as she regarded the man that had spoken rudely to Kara.

“Oh, really, and why is that?” he sneered.

“Because,” Y/N said calmly, “As you can see, there are children here, so no dicks are allowed.”

Kara nearly choked as the man turned almost purple with rage, before finally turning around and focusing his gaze back on the screen. She began to shake with the effort of trying not to laugh out loud, and shivered when she heard Y/N’s voice in her ear, low and uneven.

“Have I displeased you, my lady?”

She should warn Y/N against calling her that. She shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N as the knight who had just defended her honor. But Kara was helpless to do anything except shake her head no, because Y/N sounded so nervous and worried, so she said with a little giggle, “You’ve been around Maggie too long.”

“Maybe,” Y/N said, “But you need protecting, too.”

“And you’ll be the one to do that?”

There was a pause of what seemed to be an eternity, before Y/N at last said, her voice down to a whisper, “I want to be.”

The fanfare of No One Mourns the Wicked saved Kara from once again disappearing too far into her own thoughts, and the excited way in which Y/N clutched her only made her own excitement grow stronger. Kara had seen the show many times, and knew all the lines by heart, especially Elphaba’s, since it had long been her dream to someday play her on the stage, and so she was able to concentrate more on Y/N’s reactions. She was happy that Y/N laughed in the right places, applauded after all the songs, and it seemed to Kara that it was natural for the woman who held her, that Kara herself wasn’t the only who might be right at home in a theater.

“Do you need to leave?” Kara asked as Y/N breathlessly dragged her off to the restroom at intermission, words spilling out of her about how wonderful the actresses were, how fantastic Defying Gravity had been.

Y/N stared at her as if she’d grown three heads, and Kara laughed, squeezing the girl to her. Their faces were inches apart, and it would be so easy to just…

But no. Not in a bathroom, for goodness’ sake.

They stood on their feet in raucous applause through the curtain call, and for once in her life Kara made the decision to forego autographs at the stage door. She had more important things to attend to, she thought, even if for a split second she wondered if she’d gone insane; what could be more important than stagedooring?

But one look at Y/N’s face as Kara drove them towards the coffee shop was enough for her to know she’d made the right decision. She took the wrapped package into the shop with them, laughing and ignoring Y/N’s pouts until they’d both ordered – and Y/N had gotten chocolate chip cookies again – and sat at a table far in the back away from prying eyes, before sliding the present across to Y/N.

“For me?” Y/N said, taking off the Emerald City glasses and resting them next to her coffee cup.

Kara shook her head. “For you, little brat.” She smiled. “Open it, whenever you’re ready.”

But Y/N simply stared at the package, running the tips of her fingers over the paper and the ribbon, seemingly lost in thought. Kara was beginning to know that faraway look well, the expression that told her once again Y/N had slipped into the past, to a memory she might not have wanted to revisit.

She reached out and captured Y/N’s hand with hers. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Y/N smiled at her slightly. “I just… haven’t had a present in a long time, Miss Kara.”

“Not since…”

“He let me sleep on the bed once, for Christmas. At the foot. For a few hours anyway; he said he wouldn’t have enough room to be comfortable if I was there all night.”

Maybe she could hire Maggie as a hit man… Kara squeezed Y/N’s hand again. “Well now you don’t have to worry about that, and maybe your friends will help make up for that lack of presents.”

“Friends,” Y/N echoed, giving Kara a strange look.

“Open it, Y/N.”

She did, slowly and reverently, and Kara realized with a grin that Y/N was going to be one of those people, who opened every present as slowly as possible, while making sure not to tear any of the paper or ribbons, because they wanted to save them. It gave her a little thrill, though, thinking that maybe Y/N would want to save the paper and ribbon in a scrapbook. A reminder of the date they’d first shared.

Kara watched in nervous anticipation as Y/N lifted out the sketchbook. Her eyes fell on the front cover, her mouth opening in a little “o” as she read the inscription.

A bird does not sing because she has the answers. She sings because she has a song.

Y/N said nothing as she opened the book and began to leaf through the empty pages, and Kara began to worry that she didn’t like it. Maybe she should have gone with a necklace. Or a charm. But all of those… those were gifts a Mistress bought for her girl, and even though things were probably going a lot faster than they needed to with Y/N, Kara knew they weren’t ready for that yet, if they would ever be.

But then Y/N looked at her, and the tears fell down her cheeks as her lips trembled into a smile. “It’s g-gorgeous, Miss Kara, I—“ She stopped then, unable to speak.

Kara let out the breath she’d been holding. “Really?” she said. “You liked it? I-I just know you love to draw and, well, you’ve got paper and pencils but I wanted you to have something that you could use to keep all of your sketches together. And I know you like birds, so when I found a book with the quote on it, I thought maybe…”

“I love it. Thank you, thank you so much.”

They sat together in the coffee shop talking until the sun had slipped under the horizon. Kara told Y/N about her father’s illness, about how she’d been meant to go to New York but hadn’t, and how much she loved the theater.

“Do you ever want to go?”

“To New York?” Y/N nodded, and Kara shrugged. “Sometimes I do wonder if I am past my time for that,” she answered honestly.

“I don’t think someone like you could ever be past time to do what you want, Miss Kara. Maybe you can sing for me sometime, and let me decide that.”

Kara blushed. “Maybe I will.”

They drove back to NIa’s house in silence, both women happy and warm in the glow of first date bliss. Kara was bound to chivalry as usual and insisted on walking Y/N to the door, both because it’s just what was done, and also because she knew Y/N was tired, and she didn’t want her steps to falter on the way. So she walked beside Y/N, watching for any sign of a stumble, then stood underneath the lamplight when they reached Nia’s door. The house was dark and Kara was relieved; she’d half-expected Nia to be watching for them out the window.

“I had a wonderful time,” she said to Y/N. “I’m really, very proud of you for doing all of this. For doing it for me. Thank you so much.”

In the dim light Kara could see Y/N turn pink as Kara hugged her. “It was for me too,” Y/N confessed. “I just want… more time with you, Miss Kara.”

Kara pulled back then, no longer hugging Y/N but still holding close to her. Their faces were inches apart again…

Kara leaned up on her toes and gently, softly pressed her lips to Y/N’s. Once again she pulled back and waited, her eyes searching Y/N’s.

Y/N’s arms wrapped around her as her lips met Kara’s in another kiss. These kisses weren’t like the first one Kara had shared with Y/N; frenzied desperation had been replaced with gentleness, and with Y/N’s hands splayed across her back and Kara’s hands held safely, securely around Y/N’s waist, Kara knew that wrong or not, too soon or not…

As somewhere in the dark she could hear a bird sing, as they kissed over and over in the lamplight, Kara knew there would definitely be more time with Y/N Hastings.

#kara danvers x reader #kara danvers #supergirl #supergirl x reader #kara zor-el #kara zor-el x reader #madi converts

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thoughtfulpaperback · 4 years

Text

SPOILERS!!! Charmed 02x06 review

8/10. I am actually not sure how I feel about this episode. On one hand I did love it. I love Macy's look! I love Harry and Mel working together and I love Maggie and Jordan awkward bonding. I just am starting to get fustrated with the lack of information pertaining to the big war plot.

I actually am going a different route from my normal reviews and just want to gather the info we gained and info still missing from this episode.

1) Jimmy has a master (we got that from last episode). The master may or may not be a woman. I mean I would think he is making a big hint but that could be misdirection.

2) Jimmy and Harry's connection is mostly emotional/ psychic (feelings and memories shared) but seperate brains. They are indeed two seperate and different people. Although they came from the same source.

3) harry seems like he'd be pro merging (but he is also under the assumption he is half a person or not really a person at all) in the future

4) they both immortal (we been knew)

5) this ship is gonna be the slowest burn and I am both here for it and ready to scream. I loved macy telling jimmy not to talk about Harry.

6) Jordan's ring is magical or at least helps maggie tap into magic. It is a family heirloom so either Jordan's family is magical somewhere there or they were some how tied to magic.

Now onto what we still dont know

As a side note, I had been worried about Parker in that when he left, he did it because he felt he couldnt control his demonside. For the most part, this season Macy hasnt shown any difficulties with it like last season so I just assumed the spreading stopped and it was all good, so probably parker would be okay, but at the same time he had it way worse in some ways. So if he is back it might not be nice. I had hoped they would just leave him alone and we can at least head cannon he is happy and healthy somewhere, but who knows what they will do next episode.

1) who the heck the big bad is.

I honestly dont know what is taking so long. If it is Abby just let her be the villian and not this well maybe or not evil character. If she isnt then just tell me who is. I imagine they will reveal it next episode or before break to give us something to jump into. I am ready for this war and need to know who is on which side!

7) Jordan is gonna get hurt probably next episode (I assume because I dont think we will have much more episodes until the break) and from the promo probably Parker related.

2) what jordan is or is not. Like we know the ring seems magical (although amber is common so I think it is the thing as a whole not just the amber alone) and is a family heirloom, but is jordan completely oblivious or just not revealing anything? Is it just the ring or does his family have magic in it? Is he magical in some way . . . Insert thirst comment

3) Are jimmy and harry really not human or that is are they truly incomplete? And will they merge? Jimmy's thoughts are different than Harry's it would appear. We know jimmy was trapped and tortured and that (although he is also part of james) he isnt any more James than harry is. But he seems to see himself as more james, or at least as more of a person. At the very least he seems to like himself and is more upset with the fact he was ripped from his body and tossed aside and imprisoned than just the split into two people part. He seems angry about it but like okay as long as he has his own body. That is when he talks about being ripped from james body and Harry being left over. He says "my body" and then says he was given his body back he say my body not a body so he sees his current corporeal form as his and conplete. He talks about Harry as the lesser half. So he sees himself either as more of james and/or less lacking. When he is insulting Harry, He says he doesnt like to share and doesnt care about killing him. Harry was sad at the thought of losing half of himself (james), but jimmy doesnt seem to have the same concern. So jimmy probably doesnt see himself as half or at least does not see himself as having a part missing. When teasing Harry (when harry says he might be half a man but jimmy isnt one at all) he says half of nothing is nothing. Basically saying well if I am not a man (and Harry does not feel like a person) then you are half of me and there for not a person either. I mean multiple layers in that quick exchange, but it does seem to me that jimmy is just postulating Harry's fears, but doesnt hold the same feelings and views.

4) does macy have a thing for Jimmy? Well my personally belief is that when a women says she is disgusted by a man we should believe her....but.... i hate this, but when she is describing jimmy to Harry she holds sympathy (sympathy does not equal attraction) but I maybe tempted to believe that she appreciated certain qualities of Jimmy the bold and charming part and had sympathy for what he went through and what he is going through (under the thumb of a master). She defends him in that he cant be all bad because he is part of Harry. Which I disagree. Not that he is all bad. But that he is half of Harry. He is half of James like harry is but not part of Harry. They were one once and therefore they share a connection but Harry is seperate, but yes they form a whole other person:One complex and messy person. But yall know i feel that Harry is a complex character and I love him as is. But again no closer to solving whether they definitely are or arent thier own persons or just the halfs left over when split since it seems our two halfs have different ideas over it.

That's all I got for right now. It is late and I have to work at 7 am and it is currently 2:30 am. I probably missed stuff since my brain is tired. Let me know.

#cw charmed #charmed remake #charmed reboot #charmed cw #charmed #charmed 2018 #hacy #harry x macy #macy x harry #macy vaughn #harry greenwood #maggie x jordan #mel vera #jimmy #james westwell #dark!hacy #dark!harry #charmed spoilers #charmed 2018 spoilers

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buckeverlasting · 5 years

Text

The Made Up Meet-Cute

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

A/N: The year is 2020. The place is Manhattan. Tony has rebuilt Stark Tower and apologized to Bucky for the events of Civil War, and everyone lives happily together... This fulfills a request from someone I’ll just call Parsons Anon. I’m sure you know who you are.

Summary: Bucky bumps into his dream girl in passing. He decides to track her down.

Warnings: fluff, just a whole bunch of fluff

Word count: 3.3k

Bucky loved early morning jogs through Manhattan. He loved watching everyone rushing to work with their coffee and thinking how lucky he was not to have a desk job. Tony hired him on as a consultant, as he did all the Avengers, so they could have something to put on their tax forms. Morning runs were a way to get away from everyone, to get lost in the sea of commuters. He loved everyone he lived with in the tower, but he loved being alone. Though the sidewalks were crowded with people, he was very much by himself, free to be with his thoughts.

Despite how different they looked, Manhattan reminded him of living in Wakanda, where he could watch the sunrise in relative peace, his only visitors being some kids or Shuri coming to check in on him. It took work to put the events of all the wars he’d faced behind him, a constant vigilance against memories that left him feeling battered and bereft. Jogging early in the morning cleared his head of everything, even the constant war he was waging with his past. For an hour or so, there was a ceasefire. He was just James “Bucky” Barnes, not the Winter Soldier, not the White Wolf, just a guy in sweats. Well, that’s what morning runs used to be like for Bucky until the morning he ran into you. The scent of your perfume and the memory of your red lips would rob him of peace and even sleep for weeks.

You were running late for your first morning lecture, so you were hurrying with your coffee to class. As you turned a corner, you bumped into a burly man in gray sweats. Your paper cup of coffee was crushed between you.

“Ouch!” You shook the hot coffee from your hands and wiped them on our coat. You glance up to see that the front of the man’s sweatshirt was dripping with your latte. “Oh no! I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky looked down at himself. “It’s just a sweatshirt.” He smiled at you, and you gave him a quick half smile in return.

“Alright, then,” you said and continued down the sidewalk, head down against the wind. You were now going to be even later.

All Bucky should have been smelling was the coffee on his sweatshirt, but the wind carried the scent of roses to him. You smelled like roses. And he couldn’t shake the image of your crimson smile that crept up with just a suggestion of a smirk. Your lips were full, and the word that kept coming to his mind when he thought of them was “kissable.” In that vast ocean of anonymous city dwellers, he was falling for one he desperately wished he knew.

Back at the tower, Bucky poured himself a glass of water and just held it, staring out the window.

“Morning, Buck,” Steve said.

Bucky turned around with a start. “Oh, hey, Steve.” He turned back to the window.

“Have a good run this morning?” Steve opened the fridge and took out the orange juice. He took a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some juice. “Hello? Buck?”

“You ever think about how many people live on this tiny island?” Bucky asked. “Like, how many stories we just don’t know?”

“You sound awfully philosophical this morning,” Steve said. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Don’t laugh,” Buck said, “but I bumped into this girl.”

“Let me guess. You can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I can’t! She spilled coffee on me and then just sort of darted off.”

“So, you didn’t catch her name.”

“No, she seemed like she was in a pretty big hurry.” Bucky wanted to tell Steve how she smelled like roses and how her lips were just as red, but he didn’t want Steve to tease him.

“Why don’t you find her?” Steve took a sip of his orange juice.

“Even if I could find her, I think I’m a little old for her,” Bucky said.

“We’re too old for everybody. Plus age won’t matter to her if she’s the kind of person you want to be with. You wouldn’t want to date the kind of person who would hold the fact that you were forced to be cryogenically frozen against you.”

“That’s a fair point.” Bucky snatched the jug of orange juice off the counter.

Steve reached into the cabinet. “For crying out loud, use a glass, Buck.”

—-

The next morning Bucky made a point to take the same route as he did the day before, hoping to run into you again. He was pretty sure that it was somewhere along Fifth Avenue, perhaps near 14th Street. It was somewhat near Union Square. He knew there was a Starbucks at Union Square. Perhaps you had gotten your coffee there. Bucky thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek in the window. He looked in, and there was no beautiful girl with those full red lips. He wouldn’t let himself get disappointed, though. This was a huge city with millions of coffee shops. He wracked his brain to try to remember a label or some marking on her coffee cup. He remembered now it was actually just plain white with a black lid. It must be a small coffee shop, possibly not even part of a chain of shops. It had to be someplace unique. It had to be because you had chosen it.

That afternoon, with FRIDAY’s help, Bucky compiled a list of coffee shops near Union Square. It was possible that you had arrived at the Union Square station with coffee you had brought from Brooklyn, for example, but Bucky just had a feeling by how hot it was that it was close by. On his morning jogs, Bucky methodically visited some of the coffee shops on his list, hoping that he’d be lucky enough to bump into you again. After he had visited each one on his list, a week or so had past, and he was beginning to lose hope. Yet the image of your crimson lips was still bright in his memory. The scent of roses was still fresh in his nose.

Well into the second week of his search for your coffee shop, he stopped in the middle of his jog when he smelled roses. He followed the scent to a small flower shop. He peered in the window. It was also a coffee shop! FRIDAY probably didn’t put it on his list because it was listed as a flower shop first and foremost. Inside were two counters. One had a little glass case with pastries and chrome-bright coffee machines behind it, and at the other counter, a woman in a green apron was wrapping a bouquet of daisies in tissue paper. He had a feeling this was the place. He looked up at the sign. It read, Bread and Flowers. It made sense that a girl who wears rose perfume frequents a place like this.

Heart beating in his ears, he entered, and the door jingled a little bell. He walked up to the barista who greeted him with a smile.

“Morning! What can I get for you?” she asked.

Bucky focused on the menu on the wall behind her. “A black coffee, please.”

“For here or to go?”

“For here.” He figured he’d sit around for a bit and see if you showed up.

As he got his coffee and was sitting down at a table by the window, it occurred to him that he had no idea what to say to you. Even worse, he had no idea how to explain to you how he had found your coffee shop. He wasn’t about to tell you about his research with FRIDAY and his daily stakeouts of coffee shops around Union Square. So, he left without touching his coffee.

—-

“Why aren’t you out for a run this morning?” Sam asked. “Don’t you always go running?”

Bucky just grunted into his cereal.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Sam said.

“Sorry,” Bucky said.

“Is this about the girl you’ve been spending weeks trying to find?” Sam asked.

There was no point in lying. “How did you know?” Bucky asked.

“Steve told me, and you always come home smelling like coffee after your runs.”

“I just don’t know what I’m going to say to her when I meet her again. Won’t it be weird if I suddenly show up in her coffee shop?”

“Just say hello and tell her your name. You don’t need to explain the fact that you stalked her for weeks. Just make it seem like a coincidence.”

—-

The next day Bucky screwed up the courage to run straight to the flower shop/coffee shop. He opened the door, and there you were, sitting in a corner with a a cup the size of a soup bowl in front of you, reading what looked like a textbook. You were absentmindedly chewing on the highlighter you held, and Bucky was so distracted by the deep red of your lips that he didn’t notice he walked up to the flower shop counter instead of the coffee bar.

The lady in the green apron smiled at him. “How can I help you?”

“Um, roses,” Bucky said. “I’d like some roses, please.”

“Okay, which color?” she asked.

Bucky wanted to get you red roses to match your lips but thought maybe that was too romantic. Plus, he didn’t know your favorite color rose. “I guess I’ll take one of each color.”

He occasionally glanced over his shoulder at you reading while he waited for the florist to work her magic, strategically sticking in sprigs of other green things he didn’t know the name of.

Bucky paid and accepted the lovely bouquet wrapped in white tissue paper. He walked over to you in the corner. His heart leapt into his throat. He didn’t know if he’d be able to speak.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said.

You looked up and blinked at him, cocking your head slightly. You furrowed your brow, trying to place him. “You’re the guy I spilled coffee on,” you said.

“That’s me.” Bucky grinned and scratched the back of his head. “I felt bad for wasting your coffee, so I thought maybe I could buy you another cup some time. Also, this is for you.” He handed you the little bouquet of multicolored roses.

You breathed in the roses. “These are beautiful! Thank you. They’re my favorite.” You pulled out the chair next to you. “I’m actually just about to run out of coffee now, if you want to buy me a refill.” You smiled at Bucky.

“I’d love you. I mean, I’d love you. I mean, I’d love to.” Bucky turned redder than your lips. “What are you drinking?”

“A latte with almond milk.” You smiled to put him at ease. Clearly, this man was very rusty. You watched him walk to the counter to make the order. You had to admit you were immediately taken in by his ocean blue eyes, and you found the stubble on his square jaw alluring.

“They said they’ll bring it out when it’s ready.” He sat down in the chair you had pulled out. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He put out his hand.

“I’m y/n.” You shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

“What are you reading there?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just studying for my art history midterm,” you said.

“So, you’re a student.”

“Yeah, I go to Parsons.” You motioned vaguely in the direction of your school. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Well, I’m kind of a consultant.”

“Who consults with you?”

“Um, Tony Stark.” Bucky looked down at the table.

“I thought I recognized you! You must be Bucky BARNES. Aren’t you an Avenger?”

“A bit, I guess so.”

“Well, you are or you aren’t.”

“Well, then I am.” Bucky smiled. “Where are you from?”

And so you chatted for a while, just getting to know each other. After two hours, you realized you hadn’t done any studying for your midterm. Bucky said that he’d let you study but that he’d like to take you out on a proper date sometime soon. You exchanged numbers, and Bucky left the flower shop/coffee shop in very high spirits.

—-

“So, she’s a student,” Natasha said. “Isn’t she a bit young for you?”

“Everyone is too young for me,” Bucky said.

“I suppose that’s true,” she said. “What are you going to wear?”

“This. Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“You and Steve! You can really tell you two haven’t dated in a long time.” She shook her head. “I’ll go through your closet and help you find something.”

“Okay, fine.”

—-

Your first date with Bucky, you took him to try Thai food. He had never tried it before. He seemed to like pad Thai, which he described as “spaghetti with peanut butter.” The next date was a visit to the Met and a stroll around Central Park after. Your third date was to a movie that neither one of you will ever remember because it was the first time you held hands, and that’s all either one of you could focus on. Bucky took you back to your place, and on the train ride, you rested your head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on your hair and interlaced his fingers with yours.

One chilly fall afternoon, you were both reading in your favorite coffee shop, when Bucky put his book down, leaned across the table, and kissed you on the lips.

“I’ve been dying to do that since I first bumped into you,” he said.

You smiled at him with soft eyes. “What took you so damn long?”

“Call me old fashioned.”

“So, are we going steady? Am I your best gal?”

“I would hope we’re going steady, and of course, you’re my best girl.” He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it, looking up at you with those deep ocean blue eyes.

—-

“When do we get to meet this girl, Buck?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I’m dying to meet her,” Natasha said.

“In time,” Bucky said.

“Not good enough,” Tony said. “That’s it. I’m throwing a party tomorrow, and I’m inviting her. What’s her name?”

—-

You arrived at Stark Tower fashionably late, as it took you twice as long to get dressed than usual. You felt like you had nothing to wear to a Tony Stark party. You called Bucky in a panic, and he told you wearing jeans would be perfectly acceptable. You at least slipped on your cutest shoes, which happened to be red to match your lips.

The front doors slid open for you, and you saw Bucky sitting in the lobby waiting for you.

“I was getting nervous that you weren’t going to show up.” He stood and walked up to you.

“I definitely wouldn’t miss this.” You got up on the tips of your toes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Good. I’m glad you’re here.” He offered you his arm, and you looped yours in his. “Shall we?”

You let him lead you to the elevator. He pressed the button for the 31st floor. “Ready?”

“I don’t know,” you said.  “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m a little nervous,” you admitted.

Bucky stooped to kiss the top of your head. “It’ll be fine. Everyone will love you.”

The elevator doors slid open before you have a chance to ask him what made him so sure. You didn’t know what you were expecting exactly, but you definitely weren’t expecting to see the Avengers casually reclining on a large sectional sofa with bottles of beer in hand. Steve Rogers jumped up and bounded over to you and Bucky.

“You must be y/n.” He held out an enormous hand. “I’m Steve. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

You took his hand. “I know who you are. I know who you all are.” You looked from face to face. You recognized fiery red-haired Natasha Romanoff, bashful Bruce Banner, snarky Tony Stark, boyish Clint Barton, winsome Sam Wilson, and…

“Is Thor here?” you asked.

“Oh, what? We’re not good enough for you?” Tony came over and offered his hand, too. “I’m Tony. Nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much. All good things, though. Don’t worry.”

“Do my ears deceive me, or did I hear my name?” Thor appeared from around the corner, offering you and Bucky each a bottle of beer.

“I’m such a big fan.” You could feel the heat coming off your cheeks, and you could definitely feel Bucky giving you a look.

“What about me?” He held his hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

“Oh, you’ll survive.” You gave him a little shove before extending your hand to Thor. “It’s such an honor to meet you!”

“The honor is mine,” he said, almost crushing your hand as he shook it vigorously.

You clench and unclench your fist and gently massage your fingers back to life, as Natasha approached you.

“I won’t shake your hand, but I will give you a hug.” She threw her arms around you like you were old friends.

In shock, you just patted her shoulder blade.

They ushered you over to the couch and sat you down. The barrage of questions began pretty much immediately. They wanted to know everything from where you grew up to what you were studying at school to what you thought the future held for you. You told them you’d tell them everything they wanted to know if someone would share an embarrassing story about Bucky first.

“Did he ever tell you how he met you?” Sam asked.

“I know how we met. We bumped into each other on the street,” you said.

“We’re talking about the second time you met,” Steve said.

“He stalked you, basically,” Tony said.

“It was kind of sweet,” Natasha said.

You turned to Bucky. “What’s this about stalking?”

“I may have used technology to aid in bumping into you again.” He averted his eyes and picked at the label on his beer bottle.

“I’m speechless,” you said. “I am so flattered! A one hundred and three year old man braved the world of technology to find me?”

“Thanks, guys.” Bucky got up and headed to the elevator.

You followed after him. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To get some air,” he said. “Want to come along?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped inside.

“You have to see the roof,” he said.

“I think I’m a little underdressed. My coat is…”

Bucky pulled his burgundy sweater over his head and handed it to you. “This should keep you warm.”

“But you’re wearing just a t-shirt!”

“I run warm. I’ll be fine.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing the New York City skyline, lit up against the night sky.

You gasped and scrambled into Bucky’s sweater, as the wind whipped your hair.

“I know,” Bucky said. “It’s definitely the best thing about living here.”

“It’s beautiful. It’s like seeing the City for the first time.”

“They love you, by the way. I knew they would.”

“I meant to ask you before,” you said. “What made you so sure they would love me?”

“Because I love you.” Bucky took both your hands. “I love you, y/n.”

You dropped his hands and crashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you said. “I’m so glad you did whatever you did to make us meet again.”

“Me too.” He stroked your hair, and you held him tighter.

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your feedback!! If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please just send me an ask.

Tag list: @reniescarlett @captain-winny @delicatelyherdreams @sapphirestark @gottalovekidding @trashpanda-barnes @buckychrist @itsbuckysworld @marvelous-avengers @sgtbucketbarnes @loki-superwholockin @mywinterwolf @petersshirts @the-canary @whiskey-cokenfanfic @coffeeandpies @buckyofthemyscira @jamesbuckybarnes13 @tina8009 @queenofkings121 @heartssick @xxloki81xx @jewelofwinter @darcia22

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #fluff #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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skytroops · 4 years

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Title; A Pika-Powered Blast Off! Rating; PG Summary; Abandoned fic. Ash and Skye are having a typical day at Tohjo Ranch when a certain trio of criminals appear to cause trouble.

“How can Misdreavus learn Sucker Punch if they don’t have any hands?” Ash asked the breeder standing next to him. Ash had come to the ranch to see Skye, but he had found his boyfriend in the middle of training a racket of young Misdreavus that Skye had bred for a client. Apparently, Misdreavus could only learn Sucker Punch if it was bred into them, like Volt Tackle. At the moment, Mariah—Mr Hunter’s Nidorina—was showing the Misdreavus how to use the move in question. “Becuz da name is weird,” Skye casually told him, his eyes still on the Pokémon in front of them. “Da actual move is mare eh a. . .” he scrunched up his nose in thought, then he gave Ash a quick, but gentle jab in the side with his elbow. “hittin’ fae oot eh naywhere sort eh ‘hing.” The jab didn’t hurt, but Ash made a show of wincing and rubbing at his side like it did. “Then, why is it even called Sucker Punch if it doesn’t need a punch to work in the first place?” Skye shrugged, and after Mariah punched a large chunk out of a rock, he raised his voice to the racket. “Awright, guys! Try ‘n copy wit Mariah did, den try hittin’ da rocks when yae feel confident enough.” The small group of Ghost types separated. Some of them crowded around Mariah while others went straight to practicing. Ash watched two of them size each other up, then fly at each other, only to end up slamming into each other face first. Ash and Skye went to step forward, but the two Misdreavus quickly shook it off and went straight back to circling each other. Skye shook his head. “Don’t jist ram intae wan anuhduh-! Gather yirselves befur yaes go in tae attack.” From his perch on Ash’s shoulder, Pikachu voiced his support. “Pika pika!” “Mis!” The two youngsters called back. Seeing the Misdreavus being so eager to learn made Ash smile. Whoever ended up as their trainers were going to be lucky to have them. Beside him, Skye scratched at himself underneath the front of his overalls. Ash’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. A few weeks prior, Skye had underwent an important surgery to correct his chest. Ash couldn’t recall the exact type of procedure Skye had gotten done, but he knew that the recovery hadn’t been fun. The last time they had seen each other in person, Skye couldn’t lift his arms over his head or even pick Pika up. That was when he had just gotten out of hospital. He said he was feeling better a few days ago on the videophone, but it shouldn’t hurt to ask if he’s okay. “How’ve you been holdin’ up?” Ash asked. Skye’s hand quickly went back to his side and sighed. “Ah’m awright. Jist itchy.” “Still can’t do much?” Skye sighed again, deeper this time. “Ah hivnae been able tae dae much eh anythin’ since da surgery. Ah cannae train da Pokémon da way Ah want tae. It’s bloody killin’ me.” Ash couldn’t imagine how frustrating it must be, not being able to move properly without being worried about hurting yourself. He just knew that, if he had to go through something like that, he would’ve lost his mind weeks ago. “It’ll get better,” Ash reminded him, offering him a smile. “just you wait.” “Aye, Ah know. It’s no like Ah’ve hid tae deal wae worse ‘hings before.” Skye’s right hand flexed, and his face creased slightly. “Bit, it’s been so borin’ jist sittin’ aboot no bein’ able tae dae anythin’. At least when ma haunds goat bug-” A loud, shrill wailing cut the brunet off. The both of them turned their attention to the racket, spotting a Misdreavus seated on the grass, crying. Two of their siblings floated above them, sharing concerned glances. Together, Ash and Skye ran over to investigate. The breeder was quick to bend down and scoop up the crying Pokémon into his arms. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, brushing calloused fingers through the Misdreavus’ wispy hair. The Ghost type buried their face into his chest to cry, but it wasn’t long until their cries dissolved into choked whimpers.. “Der yae go, yir awright.” Ash looked to their siblings. “What happened?” “Mis misdreavus! Misdre!” The two started chattering, their voices high-pitched. After listening for a bit, Skye nodded in understanding. “Are they okay?” Ash asked, kneeling down. “Pi pika?” Pikachu leaned forward to get a better look at the weepy Ghost type in Skye’s arms. “He’s frustrated dat he cannae git da move right.” Skye told him before going back to cooing at the upset Ghost type. “Yae only jist started. Yae’ll git it eventually.” Ash watched the young Pokémon lift his face away from the breeder’s chest to look up at him with large, wet eyes. “Misdre. . .” he moaned. “Everyone messes up sometimes, especially when you’ve just started.” Ash said to the Screech Pokémon, in hopes of comforting the little guy. “I mess up all the time. Don’t I, Pikachu?” Pikachu nodded a little too enthusiastically. The Misdreavus turned his watery eyes to the trainer. “Mis?” “My point is, messin’ up is a part of life.” Ash said sagely. “If you mess up—so what! Just get back up and try again, and keep tryin’ until you finally get it!” As he grinned down at Misdreavus, he thought that he saw Skye’s eyes darken. But when he glanced up to check, Skye had blinked and started speaking again. “Ash is right. If yae don’t keep tryin’, yae won’t learn fae yir mistakes. Noo, come oon.” Skye carefully got to his feet, letting Misdreavus hesitantly leave his arms. “Let’s try again.” Misdreavus looked at him with a skeptical look in his eyes. “Misdreavus mis. . .” “You can do it!” Ash urged excitedly, jumping to his feet. “Just concentrate, rush in, and-” he raised his fists and punched the air. “Pow!” “Pika!” Pikachu mirrored his trainer, his tiny fists moving in quick succession. Misdreavus didn’t look too convinced. Okay, if that doesn’t work. . . Ash turned to look for Mariah, only to see her supervising Misdreavus’ other siblings as they practiced. Okay, maybe not Mariah. He thought about who could help them until one Pokémon in particular came to mind. He snapped his fingers before looking to Skye. “I’ve got an idea!” He retrieved one of the Pokéballs from his belt, and lifted it up for his boyfriend to see. As much as he wanted to help, he didn’t want to step on Skye’s toes and start doing his job for him. At least, not without asking first. Once Skye gave him an approving nod, Ash threw the ball into the air and in a flash of white, Hawlucha appeared. Skye gave Ash a somewhat confused look before giving the muscular Flying type a small wave. He got a short ‘haw’ in acknowledgement. “Hey, Hawlucha. We’ve got a little someone in need of your help.” Ash told his Pokémon, gesturing to the flustered Misdreavus. “See, he’s havin’ trouble learning Sucker Punch, and I thought you’d be able to help out.” “Why Hawlucha?” Skye asked with a raised eyebrow. “He cannae learn Sucker Punch.” “Yeah, but Hawlucha just learned X-Scissor, so I thought he’d be a good teacher.” Ash explained. That, and Hawlucha loves to show off. “Oh aye, yae telt me oon da phone a couple days ago.” Skye nodded. “Dat’s becuz yir aboot tae take oon da Fairy type gym, right?” “Yeah,” Ash answered as he turned back to Hawlucha. “so, what do you say? Think you can help?” “Hawlu!” The Wrestling Pokémon spread his wings, flaring his feathers. “Great!” Ash straightened up, looking to the trio of Misdreavus siblings. “Guys, this is Hawlucha. He might not look it, but he had trouble learnin’ a new move too.” When the three youngster’s eyes widened in disbelief, he went on. “He was learnin’ to use a move called ‘X-Scissor’, and he couldn’t get the positionin’ quite right, so he kept fallin’ short. But! He kept tryin’ and tryin’ like I said you guys should do, and then-” Ash suddenly pointed towards one of the rock targets that had been laid out. “Hawlucha, use X-Scissor on that rock!” “Haw!” Hawlucha raced forward, crossing his muscular wings in front of him. White-pink energy took the form of a ‘x’ across his wings, and he slammed into the rock. Pieces of rock and dust flew everywhere, and when the dust cleared, Hawlucha stood proudly over the rubble. “Mis mis!!” Misdreavus’ two sisters cheered, zipping over to Hawlucha to marvel over the Fighting type. Their struggling brother stayed put, but he had an amazed look on his face. “You wanna be able to do that, right?” Ash asked Misdreavus gently as Pikachu hopped off his shoulder. Misdreavus paused, then gave the trainer a small nod. “Then, let’s do it!” And with that, Ash ran over to the closest rock target and punched it with wild abandon. Pain shot up his arms, but he beared through it. [...] [...] In the skies above Route 27, a familiar Meowth hot-air balloon lazily flew westward. In it’s basket, Team Rocket were doing the usual—looking for Pikachu. “Uoh,” James hung his head as he looked over his side of the basket. “why did we have to come all this way, Jessie? I wish we just stayed back in Kalos with the other twerps.” “Quit your whining, James!” Jessie past after putting down the set of high-power binoculars she had been peering through. “We need to keep a constant vigil on Pikachu so we can strike as soon as the twerp’s guard is down! Besides, wasn’t this your idea?!” “How about da two eh ya shut yer traps ‘n keep lookin’ fur Pikachu!” Meowth hissed, his ears turned back in irritation. The three stared at each other for a long moment before they all sighed and went back to looking through their binoculars. Sometime during the twerp’s travels through Sinnoh, he had started a disappearing act. He would disappear, then reappear a day or so later to continue on his twerpish way. The trio of thieves had no idea why he started doing it, but whenever he did leave, they kept close to his group of twerps to wait for his return. When the twerp suddenly left for Lumiose Airport the day before, they finally decided to follow him. They had gotten onto the same Kanto-bound plane and stalked him through Saffron City to the train station. Much to the trio’s surprise, they found that the twerp wasn’t heading for Pallet Town like they had assumed. Instead, he got onto a train bound for the south-west coast, towards the Johto border. Despite their burning curiosity, the trio had fallen asleep on the train and in doing so, lost the twerp. Thankfully, they were excellent trackers, honed by nearly a decade of chasing Pikachu and his twerp, so it wasn’t long until they spotted their target. “Pikachu and the twerp at 10 o'clock!” Jessie shouted, bringing James and Meowth to her side of the basket. Using their binoculars, the three leered down at the large expanse of field below them. Sure enough, there was the twerp and Pikachu–walking alongside a boy in dirty overalls. They seemed to be talking to one another. “Who’s that?” James asked with a raised brow. “Who cares.” Meowth huffed. “A twoip’s a twoip. We found Pikachu and dat’s all dat matters.” “I suppose. We should start thinkin’ about a scheme then.” James looked at the magenta-haired women beside him. “You got any ideas, Jess?” Jessie didn’t answer him. She was too busy staring out towards the fields they were hovering over. “Jessie?” “…there’s so many cute Pokémon down there.” She said slowly as if in disbelief. “Look at 'em all!” Looking away from Pikachu, James and Meowth saw an absolute smorgasbord. Pokémon all of shapes, sizes, and types were out in the open, practically begging to be snatched up and given to the boss. They had been so focused on looking for Pikachu, they hadn’t noticed where they had ended up. “We must be over a ranch.” James said. “But, shouldn’t we focus on Pikachu first?” “Pikachu 'n da twoip can’t help themselves when dey hear a Pokémon in trouble.” Meowth mewled with a smirk. “If we go down der and start doin’ our thievin’–dey’ll come runnin’! Roight into our paws!” The two Rockets looked at each other before grinning maniacally in unison. “Let’s do it!” Flash. “Wobbuffet!!” === “So, what’s next on the chore list?” Ash asked, turning to look at Skye as they walked together. They had wrapped up the Misdreavus’ training and were now heading to “Uh,” Skye scrunched up his nose in thought. “Ah’ve goat tae check oon dhose Sunkern eggs. Dey wir pretty active dis mornin’. Ah dunno if dey’re gonnae sprout daday, bit it doesnae hurt tae check.” “Sunkern seedlings? Cool!” Ash said excitedly. “That’s a new one for my ‘Pokémon I get to see hatch’ list I’ve got going.” “Yae’ve goat a list? Really?” Skye threw him a wry look. “Well, yae’ve goat a lot tae catch up oon if yae wanna hiv a list as big as mine.” “Like I’d be able to do that!” Ash playfully shoved him, making Skye snort. “I’d have an easier time trying to catch a Dunsparce-!” Pikachu rolled his eyes as he trotted alongside his trainer with Hawlucha. Skye wheezed out a laugh. Ash smiled at him, his face turning hot. He liked making Skye laugh, even if it meant poking fun at himself sometimes. His ego could take a hit for a good cause. “Ah’m sure yae’ll git dat Dunsparce wan eh dhese days, man.” Skye told him before bringing a hand up to his chin in thought. “Actually. . .ah ‘hink we might hiv a Dunsparce up fur adoption.” “Really?” Ash raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Maybe I can-” The end of Ash’s sentence was cut off by a loud, heavy boom that vibrated through his chest and made the ground shake. Ash stumbled, then quickly turned to Skye. “What was that?” “A-ah dunno,” Skye said shakily. “Dat didnae feel like somewan trainin’.” Over the nearest hill, several Pokémon had started to run over it. Surprised, Ash watched them run past, then felt his stomach drop as he saw the frantic look on their faces. “Skye-” “Some’um’s wrang.” The breeder breathed. Then, with a shockingly determined stride, ran towards whatever was over the hill, even jumping over a trio of Nidoran that got in the way of his feet. Ash, Pikachu, and Hawlucha followed behind, coming to a stop on top of the hill. Ash’s breath caught in his throat at what he saw. In the distance, there was an oval-shaped robot wreaking havoc upon the ranch, chasing and snatching up the ranch’s Pokémon. The sight was far too familiar. Team Rocket! Seeing the thieves made his feet act on their own. He ran down the hill, more than ready to send them blasting off with a good old Thunderbolt—only to be pushed and sent rolling into a nearby bush instead. After shaking off the sudden impact with the ground, Ash sat up to see Skye on his knees beside him. “Did you just push me?! Skye, it’s Team Rocket! We gotta-” He nearly bit his tongue when Skye’s face was suddenly an inch from his. “Dae yae want tae git yirself kilt?! Dat ‘hing is huge!” Ash pushed Skye back so he could speak to him properly. “It’s nothing we can’t handle.” He said confidently. Pikachu and Hawlucha, once behind the bush also, made their agreement known. “Nothin’ yees cannae-” Skye made a frustrated squawk, shaking his head. “Ash, naw! Yae cannae jist run intae danger like dat!” “You were just about to do the same thing!” Ash retorted, pointedly eyeing the hill behind them. “Just a second ago, you were leading the charge.” Skye gritted his teeth. “Ah didnae ‘hink dat wiz wit we wir gonnae be up against! Ah thought it wiz a thief ‘r somethin’! Ah’ve dealt wae people like dat before, bit nothin’ like dis!” “Well, the people in that robot are thieves!” Ash barked. “They’re Team Rocket! Yanno, the bad guys who follow me and Pikachu around all the time?” “‘N how dae yae know dat’s Team Rocket?” Skye asked through his teeth. Annoyed, Ash threw his hands up. “Giant robots are their thing! They do this all the time!” His annoyance hadn’t been lost on Skye, because he scrunched up his face and raised his voice. “Well, den! If dis is normal, yae must hiv a plan right?!” “I do have a plan.” Ash told him as he pushed some bush away so he could see what Team Rocket were doing. His chest tightened as he saw a Nidoran be scooped up and thrown into the ever-filling net on the robot’s back. “Like wit? Run up ‘n attack ‘em? Don’t be stupit, dude!” Skye spat, his tone shifting into a mix of anger and fear. “Ah mean a proper plan!” “Well, do you have any ideas?” Ash asked, voice strained. Skye didn’t answer him. He had turned his attention to the crime-in-progress, his green eyes filled with horror. His whole body had begun to shake when he whipped his head around to look at Ash again. “Ash, w-wit if dey git tae da egg hooses?! Dey might take da babies! ‘R-r worse!!” He shrieked, clutching his head in his hands. Ash shuddered at the thought. He put a hand on his boyfriend’s shaking shoulder. “That won’t happen. Team Rocket are bad guys, but they won’t do that. We won’t let it.” “Pikachu pika!” Pikachu added, his cheeks sparking. “Hawlu!” Hawlucha puffed out his chest. Ash managed to smile reassuringly. “See?” The brunet continued to shake violently as he looked at Pikachu and Hawlucha, then back at Ash. He was doing his best to keep himself together, but his eyes were beginning to well up in panic. Ash wanted to comfort him, but he knew they didn’t have time. He wished Pika was with them; she could’ve helped keep Skye from being consumed by fear. He squeezed Skye’s shoulder. “You don’t need to come with me. You can stay here and hide or you can help the rest of the Pokémon get away.” That seemed to bring Skye to his senses, because his nose scrunched up and he almost looked insulted by the first suggestion. “Ah cannae dae dat-!” Despite his shivering, his voice had become steady. “Ah cannae jist abandon everywan becuz ah’m scared! Aw eh da Pokémon here depend oon me tae look ether dem! How cin ah call masel’ a breeder if ah jist ran away when dey needed me tae protect dem? Ah widnae be able tae furgive masel’!” Ash was taken aback by Skye’s sudden resolve, but he couldn’t help the flutter in his chest. He was still shaking, but his eyes were serious. Even though he was scared, he wanted to do something to help. That was something Ash admired. Even with all their differences, Ash and Skye shared this one thing. Their love for Pokémon. Ash grinned, giving Skye’s shoulder a firm slap. “Now, that’s more like it!” “B-bit, wit ir we gonnae be able tae dae against dat?” Skye spluttered after recoiling. “It’s a giant robot-!” “So? That robot hasn’t got nothing on what we can do.” Ash patted Pikachu on the head. “We can do this. Trust me.” Skye stared at him for a long moment, then took his hands away from his head. “. . .ah need tae ‘hink.” Ash blinked. “About what?” “Aboot a plan.” Skye squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re no goin’ against dat ‘hing waeoot a plan ‘r some’um. Yae’ve talked aboot Team Rocket befur, so ah’m tryin’ tae remember wit yae’ve telt me.” He opened his eyes. “Dey. . .attack wae der Pokémon, daen’t dey?” Ash nodded. “Usually, yeah.” “Wit kind eh Pokémon dae dey hiv?” “Aside from Meowth, there’s Inkay, Pumpkaboo, and Wobbuffet.” Ash answered, turning to look back at the ongoing thieving. “Meowth and Wobbuffet don’t tend to battle though.” “‘N wit aboot dat robot? Yae sayd dis wiz der ‘hing a second ago.” “It is. At least this one doesn’t look as bad as the mind control one they had a few days ago. . .” “Da. Wit.” Skye drawled slowly. “We don’t have time to chat about this sort of thing!” Ash hissed, gesturing to Team Rocket snatching up another Pokémon. “We need that plan, Skye!” The two sat awkwardly as Skye went back to brainstorming. Ash’s entire body was buzzing. He wanted to rush over and save the Pokémon, but he forced himself to stay put while Skye came up with something. Pikachu had started to knead his paws into the grass impatiently and Hawlucha had snapped off a branch from the bush after hearing a Houndour pup howl in terror. “D-dat robot.” Skye gulped. “Yae ‘hink it’s resistant tae electricity?” “Uhh, I dunno.” Ash shook his head. “I can’t tell from here, but Team Rocket aren’t too consistent about making their robots shock-proof.” “Huh. Den, we’ve jist got tae hope dey didnae dis time.” “You got something?” “Ah ‘hink so.” Skye said, turning his body to scan the rolling fields and hills around them. “Ah’m gonnae need Pikachu.” Pikachu? Ash almost asked why, but he didn’t want to waste any more time, so he nodded instead. “Alright. Pikachu, go with Skye.” “Pika!” Pikachu affirmed, looking a little too happy to finally be able to do something. “What about us?” Ash asked as Hawlucha rustled his feathers. Skye moved to get up, his jaw tightening. “C-cin yae keep dem occupied?” He sounded unsure about his own question. “We can do that.” Ash grinned again. “What are you guys going to do?” Before Skye could reply, an explosion rang out and shook the ground. The both of them snapped their heads towards the sound, seeing a plume of smoke. “A-ah’ve kept us too long.” Skye’s voice trembled. “We need tae go-!” Skye was standing and ready to run off when Ash scrambled to his own feet. “But, what are you going to do?” “A ‘hing!” Skye squeaked breathlessly. And then, he was off, running in the opposite direction of the mech with Pikachu following behind him. Ash watched him go, then turned on his heel to head the other way, towards trouble. “Let’s go, Hawlucha!” “Haw!” === “Come on now. Be good little Pokémon and get into our net!” Jessie demanded as she looked down at their targets. Team Rocket have had a blast, so to speak. They had been picking Pokémon like daisies, and were having a lot of fun doing it. Their net was already nearly full, but it wouldn’t hurt to get even more. Team Rocket was always open to welcome more and more members, even if they were reluctant. They had chased and cornered a group of young Pokémon into a deep sand pit with steep walls. Some had tried to scramble up the incline, but ended up sliding back into the basin. Others had just started to cry. The only thing in Team Rocket’s way from snatching them up was a Sandslash, who stood defiantly between them and the Pokémon. Her quills were bristling and she was hissing hatefully up at the evil trio. She had rudely attacked their mech when they tried stealing the youngsters. Thankfully, Pumpkaboo was there to defend their robot’s rather fragile shell by interjecting the Sandslash’s Gyro Ball with Seed Bomb. “Are you going to stop resisting now? It’s getting rather tiring.” James asked, annoyed. The Sandslash spat at him. “Hmph, no need to be so rude, missy.” Wobbuffet, who had been sitting quietly beside Jessie, saulted. “Wobba wob!” “Yeah, it’s not like yous got a choice!” Meowth mewled, pulling a lever to bring one of the mech’s arms up. “We’re gonna take every single one of yus!” With a push of a button, the arm shot out to grab of the Pokémon. . .only to be smashed into pieces by a green cannonball. The three stared dumbly at the destroyed hand, then started shrieking. In unison, they snapped their attention to what had got in the way of their evil deeds. A Hawlucha landed in front of them and uncrossed his arms, their green X-shaped glow fading away. “Good job, Hawlucha!” A voice called. They turned towards the voice, spotting a familiar face standing on the edge of the incline. The twerp! === Ash stood at the rim of the basin, looking down at the scene he had been kept away from. Team Rocket’s robot was a large thing with pale, green-speckled egg shell armor and two sets of arms; one set with claw grabber hands and another set were like hoover nozzles. On the back, a large net was attached. The top was cracked open, with Team Rocket sitting inside it. Ash never understood why their boss would allow them to create such bad pieces of machinery, especially when they never did their job right. Why couldn’t they make good robots, like Clemont? With their egg-robot, Team Rocket had captured several Pokémon, judging by how full their net was, and they had cornered more. He looked at them, and felt sick to his stomach. The Pokémon that Team Rocket had cornered were all babies, too young to fend for themselves and much too young to fight back against them. Did they have any dignity? Stealing Pokémon was a terrible thing to do, but there was something so wrong about putting baby Pokémon into this situation. He had to bite back his anger. If he was angry, he would only get caught up in his own emotions to actually help those Pokémon in need. Though, that gave him an idea. Team Rocket weren’t as devious when angered. “Hey, Team Rocket!” Ash shouted, before sliding down the incline and rushing over to stand by Hawlucha and the Sandslash. “You looking for me?” James was first to talk. He let out a long sigh. “Thanks for the damages, twerp.” “Where’s our Pikachu?” Jessie hissed, her voice as venomous as an Arbok’s bite. “No idea.” Ash said, shrugging. “Don’t be a wise guy!” Meowth hissed. “We saw yus with Pikachu before we started stealin’!” “No, really. I have no idea where Pikachu is.” Ash threw back. “Even if I did know where he was, I wouldn’t tell you guys!” The Sandslash stepped forward, turning to Hawlucha and chittered a question. Hawlucha nodded, glancing back at the trembling group of youngsters behind them. Ash recognised the Sandslash. Her name was Sandy and she belonged to Skye’s father, Lyle. Ash turned to the frightened Pokémon. “You guys need to get out of here. Me and Hawlucha will cover you!” Over a dozen sets of eyes stared at him, unsure and terrified. Hawlucha pointed a claw to the left side of the egg-robot, towards the cover of nearby shrubbery. “Hawlu haw!” “Sand!” Sandy started to feverishly dig into the sand. “Hey, don’t run away!” James whined loudly. “We just want you to get into our net!” Sandy quickly managed to make a sizable hole, enough for several of the group to jump into. She hopped out and shoved a small Ratatta into the hole with her snout. “Slash sa!” She called to the others. Some of them followed the Ratatta, while others were reluctant to budge. “Pumpkaboo!” Ash turned around just as the Ghost-type floated into position. “Stop them from getting away!” “X-Scissor, Hawlucha!” The Wrestling Pokémon launched himself towards Pumpkaboo, his crossed arms turning bright green. Pumpkaboo managed to fire off a Shadow Ball just as Hawlucha got close enough, sending him flying backwards. Hawlucha backflipped, landing on his feet and posing triumphantly, like a gymnast sticking a landing. “Leave them alone, Team Rocket!” Ash yelled. “They’re only babies!” “So?” Jessie put her hands on her hips. “So? So?!” Ash scowled up at the magenta-haired woman. “You’re trying to take them away from their home- their families!” “They were going to leave someday, weren’t they?” Jessie said sharply. “We’re only speeding up the process! And frankly, I’m insulted, twerp. We’ll give them a better family- with us!” “Who’d wanna be a part of your family?” Ash grimaced. The trio gasped dramatically. “Oh, that does it!” James yelped, fumbling with a Pokéball before throwing it. Inkay appeared in a flash of white light. Meowth raised the mech’s twin hose arms, pointing them directly at Ash and Hawlucha. The trainer tensed as he reached for Goodra’s Pokéball. “Thundabolt!” A heavily accented voice rang out and two bolts of lightning struck the hoose heads, destroying them beyond repair. “Wah! Again?!” Meowth yowled, slamming his paws against the robot’s control console. Ash looked up to see where the bolts had come from. On the basin’s rim stood Skye, Pikachu, and Pika. Skye was panting and flushed in the face. The two Pikachu’s cheeks sparked aggressively. Ash couldn’t help smirking at their arrival. “Oh, come on!” James groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. “We don’t get insurance for this kind of robot. . .” “I was wondering where you guys went!” Ash shouted as the breeder awkwardly slid down the slope with their Pikachu. The two Electric-types hopped in front of their trainers, flanking Hawlucha on both sides. “A-ah’ve goat da plan set up.” Skye said as he trotted up to stand beside his boyfriend, his voice wavering with adrenaline. “Ugh, not another one to deal with.” Jessie pinched the space between her eyes. “But, look!” James pointed excitedly. “He’s brought another Pikachu!” Jessie huffed, crossing her arms. “What? That old slipper?” “WIT?!” Skye barked loudly, so loudly that Ash nearly jumped back in surprise. Pika glanced over her shoulder at her trainer, looking worried. (ending cliffnotes) It begins to rain as James brings out Inkay, and the four of them have a double battle. Ash is beside himself about battling alongside Skye. The battle goes as follows; Pumpkaboo uses Seed Bomb. Pika uses Dig, and hides from the Seed Bomb with Pikachu. Pikachu jumps out to hit Pumpkaboo with Iron Tail. Inkay uses Foul Play, hitting Pikachu. Pikachu is thrown back, and Inkay goes into the dig hole to attack Pika. Pika uses Return, pushing Inkay out of the hole. Pumpkaboo uses Shadow Ball, hitting Pika. During the battle, the rain continues. The TRio taunt Ash and Skye, but as they take a step forward, the ground under the mech's foot collapses. The mech is unable to move. Jin and Tei appear out of the ground, having dug tunnels under the mech as they battled. The clouds rumble and several Pichu, Pikachu, and Raichu make themselves known. They have surrounded the mech. Team Rocket are taken aback, but Ash uses this moment to save the Pokémon in the mech's net with Hawlucha's X-Scissor. Team Rocket attemtpt to stop them, but all of the 'chus begin to spark including Pika and Pikachu. Skye had used Salem's Rain Dance to set up a Thunder that cannot miss. Hell rains down upon Team Rocket with the power of 20+ electric rats. Team Rocket are sent blasting off. Ash and Skye check the stolen Pokémon for injuries and when they see everyone are unharmed, Skye almost faints from adrenaline and relief. Aaand that's it!

#sparky's fanfic woes;#the ghey ass boyfriends;

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 years

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Episode 1: Done Running [Despair Route]

So.... as many of you who have followed me for a long time know, I’ve got a very certain canon that I follow when replaying the game. Every single time I play, I do Louis’ full romance route which calls for sacrificing Tenn in the end. Because of this, there are certain ending pieces that I’ve yet to see due to my insistence on keeping Louis alive no matter what.

The reason this is called the [DESPAIR ROUTE] is because I will be making the following big choices:

I’ll still romance Louis.

But, I’ll be saving Violet instead, causing Louis to be captured and getting his tongue cut out.

I will NOT shoot Lilly, resulting in James’ death.

I will NOT trust AJ to make the right decision, resulting in Violet’s death.

I already hate everything.

I’ll also make other smaller choices that will help add to the despair of this, like letting Abel steal from us, letting Louis get shot, and letting Dorian cut off Violet’s finger.

So if you’re ready to suffer with me, let’s get started...

Alright, we’re starting with the story builder. Just to add to my DESPAIR, I’m gonna pick a few different answers, like Lee saving Doug over my girlfriend Carley and letting Lilly stay. Ugh. I hate it already.

I’m also going to do something else very different with this playthrough: I’m going to be adamant about AJ leaving Clementine to turn instead of shooting her like she did with Lee in this case.

Also, Clementine lost her finger because I’m planning on letting Violet lose her finger, and I want to see what happens there.

Thinking about it, this route is basically what happens when you don’t let AJ do ANYTHING

I’m gonna drink this nasty ass barrel water and y’all can’t stop me

I’m also never gonna let AJ swear. Can’t let myself laugh too much.

Y’know, assuming the walker couple are the ones who rigged the trapdoor, they’re the biggest dicks of this episode.

Oh fuck, y’know what I just realized? For this despair route, to make it even worse.......... I shouldn’t bond with Rosie.

I hate everything.

Okay, I just attacked Tenn and he’s fucking terrified.

And Marlon’s all kept in shadows and shit. What a badass.

Interesting how different Marlon’s dialogue is there.

“You only get one strike.” PFFFFT look at you being tough, Marlon.

Clementine: “YOU WANNA LOSE SOME MORE TEETH? KEEP STARING!”

Willy: D:

Holy shit Clem-

Even Marlon’s like “Was that necessary?????”

LOUIS

LOUIS LOUIS LOUIS-

LOUIS

My beautiful boy

It never ceases to amaze me how excited I get when it comes to meeting Louis for the “first time.”

“You’re not dead. That’s good.”

I love you.

UGH is it too late to change my mind about this........... HE NEEDS HIS TONGUE OKAY? I’M ALREADY STRESSING OUT

Louis singing adds years to my life I’M NOT OKAY

“Don’t mind Violet. She grows on you, I promise.”

I’m literally planning on killing her, Louis.

I’m basically giving Violet the short end of the stick and then stabbing her with it in this despair run.

MITCH!

Aasim quit being a dingus and look behind you-!

Marlon: *get’s elbowed in the dick*

Clementine: “STOP BEING A FUCKING WUSS AND WALK IT OFF”

Weird place to suggest this theory, but what if Omar’s so hellbent on being the cook because Marlon used to think Omar wasn’t pulling his weight with the group and would be a real ass about it so when he discovered that he was a good cook he didn’t let anyone take it away from him because he didn’t want to be useless anymore. And Louis not wanting to help him cook isn’t because he’d rather just watch Omar do all the work but because Omar can get nasty when flavors don’t work because he’s afraid Marlon will kick him off cooking duty.

Tenn is fucking scared of Clem hahaha

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Louis?

That awkward moment when everyone’s like “haha Louis is gonna die first” but like............

Thanks, I hate it.

Y’know what the biggest problem I would have in romancing Violet? I would end up turning into Chloe Price and that’s a BIG NO-NO, even if it’s true.

Because every time Violet would try and be romantic with me I’d be all “I miss Louis. I wish Louis was here. Boy, I wonder what Louis is doing right now. Louis was my angel. I WiSH LouIS WaS HErE-”

Choosing not to bond with Rosie is already making my heart hurt

Marlon doesn’t even make it through his whole spiel before I start mashing [B] to go hunting with Louis.

Being with Louis in ep1 is so bizarre because he’s in that persona he upholds. There are a few small moments where it falls a bit, but for the most part, he’s not open like he is in the end of the episode or in future episodes.

I feel REALLY gross letting Abel take that food. But it’ll be interesting to see him walking around with two arms this time since I’ve always shoved him out the window.

Tenn is so cute.

I guess I can get something good out of this in letting the cutie pie live in the end. Hope it’s worth Violet’s life.

It’s always interesting to listen to Tenn talk about his drawing. Makes me wonder if he and the twins came from a really religious home given that he’s basically describing heaven.

WAIT

I just noticed that the toy with the bullet hole in it is sitting on AJ’s bed. They left that in the trunk of the car. SO either someone grabbed it when they pulled Clementine and AJ out, or they grabbed it when they were running away BUT they couldn’t have possibly done that! Right???

WHO GRABBED THE TOY??

Oh, interesting! AJ actually brings up the fact that I let Abel take the food during this part and why he didn’t like it.

How the hell do none of the other kids hear Marlon and Brody fighting? They’re really fucking loud. Is it just a usual thing that they ignore?? That can’t possibly be the reason. Clementine and AJ can’t be the only ones living in this part of the dorms.

AAAAAAND Brody’s dead.

And trying to eat me.

Great.

Louis!

This is such a beautiful scene. Like, everything about it is so good. Marlon’s voice acting is amazing, the rain, Rosie barking in the background, LOUIS! Just... this scene is so damn good.

However, I will always long for an alternative route where Marlon doesn’t die and ends up being taken by the delta in that AU I used to talk about.

Not too much DESPAIR here yet, but that all starts to pile on next episode. It was interesting to see some of the different, more negative choices play out, like when you attack Tenn and Marlon brings it up later, or letting Abel get away with the food and AJ’s reaction to it.

Oh, I’m not excited for next episode y’all......

Shit’s about to hit the fan.

#twdg despair route #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg tenn #twdg marlon #twdg brody #twdg aasim #twdg mitch #twdg willy #twdg rosie #twdg abel #twdg lilly #twdg omar #twdg ruby

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