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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

Text

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.3)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 2799

Episode: Three

Warning: not much, flashbacks, talks of violence

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Two

Time: 1:00pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

It didn’t take long for everyone to board the helicopter and for it to take off, no one was lounging around this morning so they assembled quickly. Bucky sat by himself on the heli, the file was still open in his hands with the page turned to Dr. Wright. Bucky looked over the information that was given; he double and triple checked. There was a car waiting for them when they were going to arrive, Bucky would get dropped off and then Steve, Nat, and Wanda would drive around Halifax but would keep watch for a distress signal. Bucky made it clear it would only be him talking to the doctor, he was practicing his script in his head.

“Five minutes ‘till landing,” the pilot spoke into his headset, the sound went to their ears sounding like a 1940s radio show.

“Copy,” everyone replied without unison.

The plane got lower and lower until it touched the ground; it was a private tarmac for primarily military forces and other important people; SHIELD was always allowed to use it. Everyone got off the plane after the propellers began to slow down, Bucky had jumped off once while they were still at top speed and got flung forward but the air. The all black car stood a ways in front of them, they all took their bags and headed over.

“What a ride…” Steve muttered as he ran his hand against the perfect hood, this car was brand new and probably had never been in the sun before. It wasn’t a low sport car but rather an everyday car that was bullet proof and decked out with an AI on the inside, no one would take a second glance at it but the four of them marveled at how this car could fit in amongst others. The black rims matched the black tires and the black paint, this was Bucky’s dream car.

They all got in and the ride began, Steve drove while Wanda sat in the back with Bucky, Nat was in the passenger seat playing her music. Every so often Wanda would look over to Bucky, he could see her out of the corner of his eye, she’d give a sympathetic glance and maybe open her mouth as if she was about to say something but chose against it. Bucky had Dr. Wright’s address on the file sheet; he was giving directions to Steve as they drove through the colourful houses.

They had never seen houses like this, around four to five houses lined up next to each other, each of them were painted a different colour but they looked the same. Flowers grew in little holders under the two window sills at the front of the house, tulips were the most popular, vines would grow on the side where the sun didn’t shine too much and pain would chip around the bottom of the houses. Some houses still had Halloween decorations up, red leaves scattered on the ground and blew everywhere. There was a brown hue to the world around them, pumpkins were scattered on some door steps while other people still had Christmas lights up from last year.

Bucky tapped Steve’s head rest and the car slowed to a stop, they looked out to their left to see a house that looked like it belonged to the community. It wasn’t modern and square with sleek grey tiles on the outside, it was old and run down. A ghost hung from the single garage light, one pumpkin was sitting on the doorstep. This house didn’t look like one of a nazi group member, nevermind just a person with their doctorate.

Tons of leaves crunched under Bucky’s combat boots, the road was littered with them, it made it seem like it was a red and yellow road. He looked both ways as he crossed even though no cars were on the road except for the military grade undercover car, Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Wanda waving. They were going to head to a farmers market in this town to pass the time, and Bucky would walk over there when he was done. He gave a thumbs up and the car drove away and down the street, he didn’t watch to see it disappear, Bucky only had one thing on his mind and it wasn’t some apple pies Wanda was looking for.

The driveway looked new as well as the cobblestone walkway, one car was in the driveway and it looked to match the house, no crazy sports car. There was a screen door before an actual green wooden door, Bucky pulled back the screen and didn’t bother with the doorbell, he banged on the door. When he pulled his fist away there was a flake of green paint on his middle finger’s knuckle, a quick swipe and it was gone. Bucky stood back because he saw that in the movies, his back turned to the door as he looked out to the town. It was a lovely day, most people were probably at this farmer’s market, Bucky had never been to one even though you had offered to take him.

His head whipped back at the door opening, the same man, but only older, opened the door. He looked tired and worn out, this was probably his last Halloween. The cane he was holding was shaking in his grip, the other hand gripped the side of the door extremely tight. You could see the white through the speckled skin.

“What can I help you with, son?” the old man spoke with a smile, he licked his gums. A Canadian accent seemed almost cartoon-ish.

Bucky froze as he looked at this man, the sight of him brought him back to his nightmares and everything he’d been through. The name ‘son’ rolled off this man’s tongue and down Bucky’s spine and sent a shiver running all through him, it was obvious this man didn’t know who Bucky was. Bucky almost felt bad that he was bothering him, it was obvious he wasn’t a walker and standing seemed to be his exercise for the day, but at the same time Bucky couldn’t help but think about all the ways he could rip this doctor apart.

“Son?” the name came again.

Bucky looked up with a shake of his head, “hello, are you Dr. Wright?” he asked quietly.

“Yes it is, what do you need?” he didn’t seem freaked out that Bucky knew his name, it was a small town.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky started but the man didn’t seem to figure it out, “I am the Winter Soldier- used to be actually…” Bucky added.

“Are you here to kill me?” the man’s voice shook, “because if you really are him then you have every right to do so,” he stepped back and opened the door for Bucky to walk in.

“I’m here to talk, you’re not going to die.” Bucky walked in and kicked off his combat boots, he’d heard it’s a thing in Canada to take your shoes off in the house. He also heard there was bagged milk which didn’t make any sense to him, but he wasn’t about to argue.

“That’s always good to hear, eh?” the accent slipped out again, it was weird for Bucky to see this man who haunted him just laughing. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Dr. Wright asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

His house was small, not many walls as one room just faded into another. Knick-knacks littered shelves and tables, everything brought a homey feel to it all, the house was very lived in. “No thanks,” Bucky waved up a hand to signal no.

The doctor came and sat across from him, Bucky was sitting on a chair while Dr. Wright took the sofa, they both were wrapped in plastic. It made a squeaky sound when either of them moved but it didn’t seem to bother the doctor at all, Bucky one final time before swearing he wasn’t going to move again and hear that annoying sound. Both of Bucky’s hands were clasped in front of him, he felt too large and bulky for this petite chair, his fingers fiddled with each other. He’d pick and poke at the massive gloves he wore, his long sleeve was covering everything he needed.

“So, Dr. Wright-”

“Jacob, son,” he corrected, “though I am a doctor,” Jacob hesitated, “I go by Jacob.”

“Is that your real first name?” Bucky asked, he was met with a smile and nod, “then call me Bucky, please.” Bucky smiled back, there was a growing tension between the both of them but they chose to ignore it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” Jacob seemed to relax at the name, he was scared of Bucky and Bucky could tell. This man had seen Bucky train for years on end, and Jacob knew what the Winter Soldier was capable of. “What do you need to talk to me about?” his cane rested beside him, his hand found its way there and just held it.

“I need to talk to you about Hydra, any information you have on the Iceland base- or any base in Halifax, Iceland, Greenland, and there’s one more…” Bucky brought a gloved hand to his stubbled chin, the leather making a rough noise when it brushed against the facial hair. “Oh! It was Newfoundland, anything you knew about those four places.”

Jacob thought for a moment, he didn’t have stubble to rub. Though he was old it was obvious he still thought that it was the old days, hair slicked back and a very fresh shave, facial hair wasn’t allowed unless you had grown it out in private. Bucky had always remembered Howard Stark’s mustache; he couldn’t picture him without it.

“I mean, I was just a scientist, I ran labs and tested things on animals. I didn’t come up with the world ending plans, I was never told the reason for what I was doing, I was just told to do it.” Jacob sounded worried, “when I used to work for Hydra I was worried for my life everyday, they were so paranoid all the time that someone could be a rat. If you said ‘hail Hydra’ a little too quietly then you’d have a bullet between your eyes, I just kept my head down and did what I was told.” Jacob’s hand got increasingly tighter on the handle of his cane.

“Was there something new they were working on?” Bucky asked, and he pulled out a little flip book to keep track.

“I quit a total of ten years ago, when I was seventy-one, the only thing they were thinking of was keeping you in their grasp, there was no other plan.” Jacob shrugged, “Hydra couldn’t see a life source without you, they never intended on losing you the way they did.”

“So you have no idea what they could possibly be working on, at all?” the hope Bucky had was falling, this was the only lead they knew and if all he could say was there was never a plan B, you were screwed.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I really want to help, but I just don’t know.” Jacob stood and walked back to the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and grabbed three pills from a container before heading back over to his seat.

“Out of the four places I mentioned, Iceland, Greenland, Halifax, and Newfoundland,” Bucky paused and watched Jacob mutter them to himself and then take the pills, “which one is the strongest?”

Jacob swallowed his pills with water, “Iceland.” without any hesitation, no second guess, nothing giving away he was lying for didn’t know. “Iceland was hell for me, it has the best of the best for agents, scientists, and…” he glanced out the window, “cells and tourture.”

Bucky shot up right away, he headed to the door. Jacob followed him, glass still in his hand. When Bucky was about to leave Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. When Bucky turned back around the hand traveled along the center of his chest, “I'm not wired, Jacob.” Bucky eased.

“Some things just come second nature, son.” Jacob kept his head down, “y’know, I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was making my old man proud, but I never stopped to realize what I was doing was actually wrong.” Jacob looked up with glossy eyes, “I actually wanted to find you at some point because I know I was the one who woke you up last, I remember clearly the way you looked, right then, I knew I needed to leave that place.” Jacob shuffled over and stood completely square to Bucky, Bucky just looked down at Jacob with a face of horror. The man Bucky saw every night was crying and apologizing to him, he didn’t know anyone who worked with Hydra had a heart. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” Jacob reached in his back pocket, he had placed the glass of water on a side table. “Here, take some money-”

“No, none of that, Jacob, really,” Bucky held his hands out, “you’re forgiven, don’t worry about all that, I just need to find someone.” Bucky reached for the door.

“What do you mean?” Jacob fished in his wallet.

“Hydra stole my girlfriend, I think she's in Iceland.” Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together at Jacob who was given him a coin.

“I think you’re right,” Jacob dropped the coin in Bucky’s palm before closing the door, the screen door creaked as it shut quickly with the wind.

Time: 2:33pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

Steve, Nat, and Wanda were walking around on the closed road, stands of every fruit and pastry lined the streets. Wanda was on top of the moon, she had a tote bag with some apple turnovers in them, that was really all she wanted. Nat had actually bought something too, Steve was genuinely surprised when Nat bought some earrings from a vendor, they were very small and dainty moons that would go in her ear lobes. Steve didn’t buy anything but just liked walking around, there was a lot to see but in a good way, no screens or jumbotrons, just people being people.

As Bucky made eye contact with Steve, Steve’s phone rang. Nat and Wanda rushed up to Bucky and were asking how it went, but the unknown caller was what Steve was focusing on.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve lowered his voice.

“Captain Rogers,” an all too familiar voice hit his ear.

“King T’Challa?” Steve turned his back to the group.

“We have three Hydra agents in custody, they tried to take out my sister,” his accent flowed and bounced as he talked.

“Keep them in the cells, we’re on our way.”

“Will there be more of them?” T’Challa asked before he could hang up.

“I don’t know, but hold them and don’t kill them, they might be our only hope.” Steve said his goodbyes and hung up.

When he turned back to Bucky and the rest of them, they seemed scared, Bucky had overheard Steve’s call, super hearing, and was looking at him weird.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“King T’Challa, says there was an attempted hit on Shuri, doesn’t know where they came from but they want her.” Steve shoved his phone in his back pocket, “what did you find?”

Bucky just held up a silver coin, “we’re going to Iceland.”

“We need to go to Wakanda,” Steve stepped forward.

“Not all four of us,” Nat pulled everyone aside from the farmer’s market, “I’ll go with Steve to Wakadna, you go with Wanda to Iceland. We’ll be talking and before you ambush the Hydra base in Iceland we’ll confirm y/n is in there, deal?” She looked to the other three.

“Deal.”

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine @commonintrest @buckyys-doll @lil-baby-nor

let me know if you want a tag!

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes series #bucky #bucky x yn #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter #winter soldier #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier series #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst

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oumaheroes · 3 years

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NZ and Artie hcs pretty please! Something 🥺 thank youuuu

Sorry this took me so long to answer!

I should start with something 'overall' first. I've enjoyed seeing different fandom interpretations of New Zealand throughout the years- as a shy golden boy, to rambunctious fellow play fighter, to mud weary tomboy, to a poised daughter, or all at once. For me, potentially due to how Zea has been canonically drawn, New Zealand is non-binary. What they've got going on under there ain't my business and they certainly don't care. I’ve therefore given them the name ‘Alex’- for the feminine or masculine version, who’s to say.

They very much live by the feeling 'I am New Zealand', and whatever that entails. Nothing more, nothing less.

Childhood/ Teenagerhood:

England had really settled into the swing of things at this point. He was used to children, used to parenting in general- the ups and downs of it - and used to keeping his children at more of a distance emotionally than he had with Canada and America. So, by the time Zea came about there was a smoother transition into family life than there had been for poor old OZ. Australia, who had a few brief years of England as a more affectionate, happy, and relaxed parent, was abruptly cut from contact for a few years and then reintroduced to someone stricter and far more distant and which has left their relationship a bit strained at times.

Zea knew nothing else. From the get go, England set a standard of behaviour and maintained it. On the one hand this was good: Zea never struggled around England, either in being comfortable in his presence or with the 'new' rules that were in place, and also never suffered from any sort of consequence that came from having a parental figure suddenly do a 180 on you.

On the other hand, they did grow up slightly lacking in the affection department. They knew England loved them, but as soon as they became a little older there were less hugs, less kisses, less of playing silly games and more study, learning, and filling their days with their own company. They were used to this and it didn’t bother them at the time, but compared to their older brothers, or younger ones (seeing him with Sealand does spark some bitterness), they certainly missed out, and have inherited England’s current (in)ability to interact physically with loved ones- they’re not overly touchy-feely and express love through acts of service or gift giving.

Mainly though, Zea's childhood was good and quite stable. They were home schooled, but England also used to like sending them off for playdates with noble families with children to get them more acquainted to people their physical age, or would take Zea with him into town to work with their politicians or their tradesmen. Zea thus spent a lot of their time waiting, either sitting on the floor of England's study, or somewhere around him outside, watching and listening to him work and talk shop with people.

Nations are robust things, sturdy and, surrounded by their people, not really in too much danger. I think England was rather lax in this regard with his children (someone who had a childhood of wandering around villages, foraging for food, and being personally thrust into war from a young age will hardly find a town centre in the 1800s dangerous) and used to leave New Zealand with some local children for entertainment if he needed to go and do things that required a bit more time than a quick chat.

Because of this, a humdrum of business is something New Zealand finds to be a soothing white noise, something they can filter out or tune into easily, and they appreciate this unorthodox education. They’re also very happy with their own company and can entertain, and soothe, themselves independently.

Not to go on too much of a tangent (because I do do that, in these posts), I just want to quickly touch upon Zea and Oz’s relationship because I think that helped cover up for what they were lacking in terms of openness and easy affection from England- Zea because they never really had it, and Oz because he was missing it. Due to how close they are geographically, and potentially because England on some level felt guilty for his inability to fully let himself go and open up to them, New Zealand and Australia spent quite a lot of time with each other in either of their lands from England moving them about with him when he visited one or the other. Both were also sometimes taken back home with him to the UK and a lot of Zea’s exposure to a more ‘traditional’ Kirkland upbringing comes from their time with their bother- playfights, arguments, mischief, and an open easiness with each other’s raw and unfiltered company.

Back on topic and to summarise, New Zealand's childhood relationship with England was a good one. As I mentioned in my Canada headcanon post about a similar topic, England is very, very good with small children and Zea was no different. But as they got older this decreased rapidly, something that they considered perfectly acceptable at the time but now is something they sometimes look back on with a small amount of hurt and confusion.

Teenagerhood they were very used to being on their own and, funnily, when you think about what England was trying to do, very independent. Not independent like America, with his fights for recognition as an independent entity removed from England, but independent personally. A childhood of watching England work and playing often by themselves meant that Zea as a teenager was studious, quiet, and happy to be left alone or taken out for company (similar to Wales in personality, I reckon. Need their alone time and will take themselves away if this is not given).

Arguments with England were rare- Zea’s not one for butting heads but would much rather learn the ins and outs of everything and then put forth and argument for change. England may be a hothead and stubborn, but he’s not closed minded. It’s how you approach him that matters and Zea caught onto this early. Whereas Australia would shout or refuse to do that he was asked if he didn’t want to, or would put up some form of fight, New Zealand would instead do the task, do it well, and then request time with England to formally present him with all of the reasons their proposal was far better.

England being told he is wrong will likely not listen if he believes himself to be right (even if he has doubts, someone telling him that his way is bad will make him stubbornly cling to it just to prove them wrong and himself justified for doing it in the first place- clawing and scraping for even an inch of a victory). But England being told that someone has thought of a different way, and asking for his opinion on it, is far more likely to inspire change. He feels valued and goes into the discussion with an open mind that most often went in New Zealand’s favour.

Because of this, they do have a reputation of having England wound around their little finger from a young age. But really, they were just smart enough to figure England out and use it to their advantage. They were also smart enough not to overplay this hand, and so their teenagerhood was peaceful and calm.

Adulthood:

As adults, the two are on very good terms. England prefers adult children to teenaged ones, especially calm, well-mannered ones, and this relationship improved after Zea got their independence. Rather like a burst of relief from England’s end, I feel- he’d spent so long paranoid about his colonies leaving him that this clouded his enjoyment of them. With them finally independent, that worry is redundant and he can enjoy them for the people they are. And Arthur likes Alex, he really does. He finds them mature, funny, and intelligent. The two have similar hobbies and interests and England often spends time with them travelling about to beaches or passing book recommendations back and forth.

Being nations heavily shaped and surrounded by the sea, this is something that is a huge passion for the both of them and they often go sailing together on the ocean, either on smaller boats by the shore or for larger trips out to sea. Arthur willingly took all of his children out to sea, but Alex was the only one who really took to it and shares a similar hunger for it as he does. They’re probably the least openly affectionate pair of all of the Arthur- child relationships, but that doesn’t mean he loves Alex any less and, most of the time, Alex knows this and is content with the way things are. As mentioned in my Canada post though, England is trying to improve himself in this area in the modern day and he’s trying really hard with Zea, (though this is sometimes awkward for the both of them.)

#hws england #hws new zealand #aph england #aph new zealand #arthur kirkland #hetalia headcanons #aph #hws #hetalia #heroes headcanons #heroes answers #rein-ette #aph australia #hws australia

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lettheladylead · 3 years

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running in circles

chapter eleven: one little taste might be okay summary: Goldie and Scrooge meet up again in a town called Gumption. warnings: references to sex, nothing explicit wordcount: 4817 playlist (will be updated as chapters are posted): shorturl.at/bfBCQ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33776632/chapters/86611381

here’s chapter eleven!! text will also be included in this post for those of you that don’t use ao3:

March, 1899; Gumption: (This chapter takes place during the episode The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck! Timestamps for the episode are included to give context to each section.)

It was early March in 1899 when Goldie decided she needed to see him again.

She’d done well for herself in Dawson, even with the dwindling population. Her hotel was still getting plenty of business and the hotel guests certainly enjoyed the shows at her saloon. She was thinking of expanding her empire further in town, but sticking to Dawson would be a terrible idea. She needed to find another place to build.

And that was the excuse she used when she told Lulu and the other remaining employees that she’d be leaving for a few weeks. Several months without skipping town meant no one had the right to complain about her taking off. It was time to find some land with untapped potential. She’d have to find Scrooge and see where he was hanging his hat these days.

Goldie grabbed a vest and several little bags to take with her on this trip. She had no idea where Scrooge was...he could be back in Scotland for all she knew. So she once again traveled down to Whitehorse to find out.

---

A bit of flirting with a familiar face at the bank and she got her answer. Gumption. It was some backwater town in Uncle Sam’s territory - at the very tip of a state called Calisota. Goldie hadn’t been to the States in over ten years and this was going to be a very different experience.

The journey down to Gumption would probably take her at least two weeks. That was assuming she was able to grab rides from friendly strangers most of the way there. And assuming she didn’t get kidnapped or murdered during her travels.

She grabbed some extra food and knives for the journey and started heading south. It was going to be a long two weeks.

---

When Goldie arrived in Gumption seventeen days later, she was surprised by just how small this town was. She’d expected something tiny and run-down, but compared to Dawson or Whitehorse, this place was a complete dump. She wondered briefly if this was just how the States compared to Canada, but shook it off. There was no time for national pride when there was gold to be found and sourdoughs to be seduced.

Scrooge’s stuff wasn’t hard to find. The town was just one stretch of road with a few businesses and a jail. On a whim, Goldie set herself up on the opposite side of town. It didn’t take long - she didn’t have much with her, but she didn’t think she’d stay for more than a few days. Though her main interest in this town was gold (and Scrooge), her plan to find a spot to open another business was not going to happen in a place like this. Some of the cities she passed through to get here would need a second glance on her journey back home.

Humming lightly as she set up her tent, she almost didn’t notice the footsteps behind her. On instinct, Goldie grabbed a knife out of one of her many pockets and turned around, holding it up to her potential attacker’s neck. She didn’t say anything, assuming the knife spoke for itself.

The duck in front of her quickly held up his hands. “Whoa there!” he said with a chuckle. “Sorry to frighten you, ma’am!”

Goldie loosened up at his words, though she didn’t put the knife away yet. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Marshall Cabrera, sheriff of this li’l town!” he said, holding out a hand to shake.

She rolled her eyes and pocketed the knife. Great, law enforcement, her favorite type of people. “Congratulations,” Goldie mumbled as she went back to setting up her tent.

Marshall was not deterred by her subtle dismissal, instead walking around her to get back in her line of sight. “So, there’s gonna be a town meetin’ tomorrow mornin’!”

“I’m only here temporarily. I’m not part of the town.”

“Oh, but you are!” Marshall spun his sheriff’s badge in excitement. “You and that other prospector are gonna help put Gumption on the map!”

Goldie glanced up at the man. Raising a skeptical eyebrow, she said, “Uh-huh. So tell me, Sheriff, how’s the other prospector doing? He got a lot of gold yet?”

Marshall looked over at Scrooge’s camp, catching sight of dirt being shoveled out of a hole. “To be honest, ma’am, I haven’t talked to him just yet! Anytime I try to stop by, he yells at me ‘til I leave him alone. Somethin’ ‘bout all the dynamite he’s using bein’ dangerous!”

Goldie stood up and brushed dirt off her pants. “So that’s how I get you to leave, then?”

The Sheriff laughed and slapped Goldie on the back, not noticing her angry glare. “Hoo, boy! You gold diggers are mighty funny!”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are we done? I’d like to finish setting up camp.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am!” Marshall said with a tip of his hat. “I’m just gonna go tell that other miner ‘bout the meetin’ tomorrow and then get back to business!”

“Of course,” Goldie mumbled. “As the Sheriff of a town with a population of twelve, I’m sure you’ve got lots of work to get done.”

Marshall smiled and turned around, completely missing her sarcasm. “You betcha!”

Goldie rolled her eyes and quickly finished setting up her tent. Now was as good a time as any to go buy all the dynamite in town. If Scrooge was using a lot of dynamite, then that must be the best and fastest way to get gold out of the ground here. And though she was here to annoy Scrooge and check on him and maybe spend a little bit of time with him, Goldie was also excited by the idea that there was multiple-sticks-of-dynamite worth of gold under this town.

Scrooge had a nose for these things and though she wouldn’t trust him about a lot of stuff, she’d always trust him when it came to gold.

---

The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck: 4:50 - 6:20

---

When Scrooge saw Goldie standing smugly by her wheelbarrow of dynamite, he knew this was going to be another unpleasant visit. It’d been almost a year since she last interrupted his life, and he’d made plenty of other rivals and enemies during that time. But Goldie was the only one who kept coming back.

Even though there was a tiny little part of him that was excited to see her, he was too busy being pissed off to care. Once again, she’d barged her way into his life to make things more difficult. He was already working hard in Gumption to get all the gold he could find, but now he had to race to find it all first. Something in his gut told him there was a significant amount of gold to be found in this town, and he’d be damned if he let a thieving rogue like Goldie O’Gilt take it away from him.

Plus she was being extra annoying this time around. A year back in Dawson had made her even more combative than he remembered. And that wasn’t the only thing getting under his skin - she bought all the dynamite in town? How well was she doing that she could afford that? The thought of her undeserved riches made him work even harder, refusing to let her be wealthier than him. Scrooge McDuck was going to be the richest duck in the world! Not anyone else. Especially not Goldie O’Gilt.

While Scrooge was grumbling in his little digging hole, Goldie relaxed with some iced tea up above. She hadn’t come down to the States to spend all night getting sweaty. She’d done that enough times before and this time she was going to take it easy and use the dynamite as it was meant to be used: to make her life easier.

During this visit, her plan was to not steal from Scrooge at all. She wanted him to see her as a beautiful, sexy, talented gold digger all on her own right. She could now safely use dynamite without him having to tackle her to the ground, she’d traveled all this way on her own without a single hiccup, and she was going to get whatever amount of gold was under this town before Scrooge could. She wanted that gold and she wanted Scrooge to see her get it.

---

The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck: 7:00 - 13:25

---

Not interested in waddling all the way back to her tent, Goldie thanked the cashier for selling her the dress at a discount (thanks to some light flirting) and made her way back to the jail, box of new clothes in-hand.

She was happy to see that Scrooge was back already and writing down some notes as he went over their plan once again.

“It’s not the most complicated plan, sourdough,” she commented, starting to unbutton her vest. “I’m sure the other two know their parts.”

Scrooge scoffed haughtily. “That wacky inventor may have some brains, but that sheriff is as absent-minded as a sheriff can get! I’m not leavin' anythin’ up to cha…”

He looked up at her and his brain completely shut down as Goldie unbuttoned her blouse and started casually taking it off. Scrooge’s face turned bright red and he looked back down at the desk. “Wh-what...what are you doin’?!”

Goldie raised an eyebrow incredulously. “I’m getting dressed. Remember? Your plan?”

“Y-yes, but…” Scrooge nervously tapped his fingers and darted his eyes around. “Don’t you...want some privacy?”

She let out a short laugh. “Why are you acting like you’ve never seen me naked before?”

His face burned even brighter and Scrooge laid his head directly down onto the wood. “I-...it’s just...it’s not…”

She smirked and got to work on her pants. “When you work in show business, you can’t be bothered by something like a little nudity, hun,” she said matter-of-factly. “Especially not around people you’ve already slept with.”

Scrooge grumbled in response and continued to not look at her, turning towards the clothes he’d grabbed and thinking maybe he should get dressed, too. It wouldn’t take him anywhere near as long as it’d take her, but it was good to be ready.

They didn’t speak for a few minutes while Goldie was putting on the dress and fussing with her hair - Scrooge settled on stripping off his clothes behind the sheriff’s desk and quickly throwing on the jacket he’d stolen.

Before he could finish suiting up, Goldie grunted in a way that caught his attention.

“You alright there, O’Gilt?” Scrooge asked with a smirk, enjoying the view of her struggling.

She grunted again as she tried to grab the strings at the back of her dress. “Can you just come and tie this for me?”

Scrooge put the hat down on the desk and waltzed over, taking the strings in hand and tugging them to make sure the dress was nice and tight.

“Make sure it looks good.”

Scrooge grumbled while tying them together, complaining about the impracticality of these types of dresses and how you shouldn’t need two people to put on a piece of clothing. Goldie just smiled and continued to mess with her hair - without a mirror it was hard to know exactly how it looked, but after over a decade of making herself look stage-ready in fifteen minutes or less, she was confident in her work.

He finished getting dressed as Goldie stuffed her feet into those tiny little shoes that he didn’t understand why any duck would wear - they looked very painful - and paused to look down at himself.

“Not a bad look, if I do say so myself,” he said with a smile. “If I didnae know better, I’d almost think I came from money!”

Goldie stood up and rolled her eyes, brushing invisible dirt off her dress. “There is no way dirty dour Scrooge McDuck could pass off as…” She’d turned while she spoke and he stepped a little closer so she could get a good view of him in his fancy new clothes.

“...wealthy…” Goldie sounded stunned as she eyed him up and down, feeling a swell of shock and satisfaction at just how damn good he looked.

---

The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck: 13:35 - 16:20

---

Scrooge's face during her little song and dance was so stupid and dopey and funny - if she hadn't been so good at what she did, Goldie would’ve burst out laughing. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to him. She was Glittering Goldie once again, and that meant all eyes were on her!

She watched Scrooge grab the key and head towards the back, but knew he'd need a few minutes to get in there and get the nugget to their partners. She started another song to keep everyone on her, especially the asshole in the white suit.

Goldie did a little spin at one point and was shocked to see the giant terrifying butler was gone when she turned back around.

Scrooge.

She curtsied politely and thanked the crowd and the piano man, taking a few seconds to seem like she wasn't in a hurry to run off and potentially save someone's life. Goldie smiled brightly as she started to leave.

Unfortunately for her, it wasn't going to be that easy. She felt a gloved hand grab her wrist and pull her back, and Goldie found herself in the arms of Rockerduck himself.

She kept up a very fake smile, extremely uncomfortable with whatever the hell was happening.

"How much?" he asked suddenly.

Goldie raised an eyebrow, confused by the question. "Excuse me?"

"Just one evening," he said with a smirk. "Or perhaps the rest of the trip if you enjoy yourself enough."

His words sunk in and Goldie didn't need to ask again to figure out what he was suggesting. She needed to get to Scrooge and away from this jerk without arousing suspicion. Goldie pushed herself out of his arms and held up her hands in front of her. "As flattering as that is, I'm not-"

Rockerduck stepped forward and into her personal space again. "I'm a very, very rich man. Whatever your price, I can afford it."

Goldie stared at him and thought about how just a few years earlier she would've loved for an opportunity like this to fall into her lap. It wouldn't have been pleasant, of course, but it would've been perfectly tolerable and she could tell from his clothes and shoes that he wasn't lying about being very rich.

But now she owned her own businesses and had a...relationship she had certain feelings about and she wasn’t desperate enough for money that she'd stoop to a guy like this.

So Goldie did the only thing she could think of to get herself out of such an uncomfortable situation: she lied.

"Oh, well when you put it that way…" Goldie batted her eyelashes obnoxiously. "...how about I go get you a drink and we'll talk some more?"

Rockerduck smiled and took his seat. "Now that's what I like to hear!"

Goldie poked the end of his beak with her pointer finger and let out a girlish giggle as she crept away to the back of the car. She felt like she was going to vomit, and if Scrooge wasn't in trouble she might've allowed herself the luxury.

---

The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck: 17:27 - 21:05

---

“Oh no, you don’t!”

Scrooge ran after Goldie with his hand in his hat, smiling brightly. She might’ve had a head start, but her dress slowed her down, and it only took a few moments for Scrooge to catch up.

On instinct, Scrooge lunged at her, trying to get revenge for her attack on him just a minute earlier.

Goldie turned around and squealed as Scrooge knocked her down - they didn't fall far, just into a shallow part of the gulch. Goldie fell back-first, leaving the back of her dress and hair soaked. Scrooge definitely felt like he'd won when he saw the shocked and angry look on her face.

“You didnae have to hit me, you know!”

She stuck out her tongue and wiggled her arms and legs around, very aware that Scrooge had somehow settled himself between her legs. “Aw, but you just looked so smackable, Scroogey!”

He leaned down to argue, bringing his beak right up close to hers. The look in her eyes softened as he got closer and Scrooge realized this was his time to take the lead. He’d hesitated too long before. Slowly, he brought a wet hand up to her face and shoved his beak against hers.

Goldie was surprised but happy that he’d initiated physicality between them for the first time. She snuck her hands up to his whiskers to pull him closer, and hummed as his free arm snaked around her back. They made out roughly and neither really cared that Scrooge was gradually pushing Goldie further into the gulch until her chest was almost entirely underwater.

She shoved him off of her and sat up straight, immediately looking down at her boots. They were a little muddy, but they hadn’t gotten wet, thank God. Her hair, on the other hand, was an absolute mess.

While she was trying to fix her hair, Scrooge nervously glanced around them to see the more gold-hungry Gumptioneers were either pretending not to pay attention to him and Goldie’s antics...or they were paying way too much attention. One man’s particular leer towards Goldie made Scrooge’s skin crawl, and he followed the man’s line of sight to Goldie’s chest.

Now completely soaked, her dress was practically see-through. Scrooge quickly moved his legs around Goldie’s to park himself on her side and block the man’s view.

Goldie was collecting the pins out of her hair and not paying any attention to the townies around them. She stood up without a word and started wringing out her dress as she walked towards her tent.

After a few steps, she turned around to see Scrooge staring at her from his seat by the water. She rolled her eyes. “Are you coming?”

Scrooge nodded and jumped up after her. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he was getting himself into, but he was pretty confident that he wanted to find out.

As gentlemanly as possible, Scrooge lifted up one of her tent flaps. He was glad that the gulch was far enough away that he didn’t have to worry about any creepy miners trying to catch a show.

Goldie had taken off her shoes while they walked and gently tossed them into the corner of the tent. She crawled in and stopped just inside the entrance, tugging her long hair to one side. “Come undo this, will you? It’s suffocating me.”

Scrooge nodded again and followed. It wasn’t a huge tent, but it was plenty big for the two of them. He waited for the tent flaps to close before reaching his shaky hands forward and tugging at the strings of her dress.

He untied the knot easily, but felt a familiar nervousness creeping up on him. His palms were sweaty and he knew he was blushing, but there was something so enticing about the view in front of him that he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight.

As the knot loosened, so did Goldie’s dress. Her sleeves fell just a little and she let out a satisfied sigh.

Scrooge felt himself focusing intensely on the feathers at the base of her neck. He breathed quietly for another second as Goldie messed with her hair again, then he finally moved. His hands grabbed at her hips and he stuck his beak into her feathers, preening gently.

Goldie gasped and straightened her back. She definitely hadn’t expected that, though she certainly wasn’t complaining. She tugged at her hair to keep it out of his way.

Scrooge hummed into her feathers and squeezed her hips tighter as his preens turned into kisses. He wanted to show her that he could take charge, too. He wasn’t just some chump she could tease and smack around, he was the strongest, smartest, sharpest duck in the world and he was going to show her just that.

---

sex summary: https://sites.google.com/view/running-in-circles/summaries/nsfw11

---

As Scrooge started to doze off next to her, Goldie took a deep breath and collected her clothes. Part of her wanted to stay and cuddle with him and go to sleep, but another part of her couldn’t stop thinking about how much gold there was waiting for her outside. This little session of theirs had already taken much longer than she expected - not that she was complaining, since Scrooge had finally figured out what he was doing.

He figured out what he was doing multiple times. She felt a little weak in the knees thinking about it. But...gold. And he was asleep anyway, so she had no reason to stick around.

Goldie got dressed and exited the tent with her pan and other supplies in her hands and headed to the water. She almost ran into the sheriff on the way there, but as soon as he saw her he squeaked, blushed, and ran off in another direction.

Goldie shrugged and started collecting gold. These townsfolk were clearly amateurs - using hats and shoes to collect instead of pans or sluice boxes - so she was confident she’d be taking home a significant chunk of change.

As she was panning for gold, Scrooge opened his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He still didn’t understand Goldie at all, but at least he’d done something right this time around. He’d silently watched her get dressed and grab her pan, so it seemed she wasn’t off to steal from him again. Instead she was collecting gold like any person would do.

The odd fighting-then-kissing relationship they had confused him more than anything else he’d experienced since leaving Glasgow. She seemed to love teasing him, and he’d enjoyed the look on her face when he teased her on the train. It wasn’t the type of relationship he’d read about in stories as a kid, but it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it could work for him. He never took the time to fantasize about a wife and kids, but he did enjoy his time with Goldie (for the most part). She toyed with his emotions, but she also reminded him that there was more to life than just work. He didn’t travel for fun or go on vacation or take breaks, so these little moments with her were...nice.

After a few minutes of laying there doing nothing, Scrooge wanted to see what was going on at the gulch. He grabbed his shirt and stuck his head out of the tent, trying to see exactly what the situation was. At his current distance, Scrooge could see that pretty much everyone in town was at the gulch collecting gold, but he couldn’t see much more than that.

He walked towards the water, and Marshall sped past him at one point, not making eye contact. Scrooge thought that was a little weird considering the adventure they’d just been on together, but he was focused on the townies ahead - most of whom were trying to collect gold in their hats.

Scrooge crossed his arms over his chest and thought about how much work it would be to sit down and try to collect more gold than the rest of them, when what he could really be doing is starting his first real business. He lifted up his hat and looked around for a general store, happy to see that there was one in town. Scrooge made his way there and prepared to buy all the pans they had in the store.

---

A few hours later, Scrooge was enjoying the spoils of having resold all the pans to wannabe prospectors in town. Without any other way to buy pans, the townies had no choice but to buy from him, and he made double the amount he’d initially spent.

Goldie sauntered over to the spot near his tent where Scrooge had situated himself. He was counting up the money and gold he’d earned during the day, and she was eager to compare. Without asking, she fell to her knees in front of him and pulled out a big bag filled with gold nuggets she’d collected from the gulch.

Scrooge rolled his eyes and tried not to be enchanted by the happy look on her face. Though she was sweaty and covered in mud and dirt, she looked positively beautiful with a genuine smile. “Come to see how much money I made?”

Goldie shook her bag, enjoying the way it caught Scrooge’s attention. “I can’t believe you were afraid to get a little dirty, McDuck,” she said with a laugh. “I could buy three new Blackjacks with the gold I picked up today!”

“I just didnae see the point,” he responded. “But thanks to ye advertising pans for me, I made a significant profit without doing much work at all.”

Goldie stared at his bag of gold, wondering if it had more than her own. “Are you telling me Mr. McHardWork took the easy way?” she teased.

“For once, maybe I did,” Scrooge said with a smirk. “But now I’ve made several thousand dollars and I didn’t even have to break a sweat...” He leaned forward and sniffed loudly. “...unlike some people.”

Goldie glared at him, but her heart wasn't in it. She was much more happy than she'd ever admit to be sitting and chatting with him like friends.

"Are you busy right now?" she asked suddenly.

Scrooge looked surprised by her question and scratched his neck. "The sun's gone down and I've sold every pan, so...no?"

Goldie almost laughed at his cluelessness. She stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him up with her. "Come on, sourdough. We're going to your place this time."

Scrooge gulped and squeezed her hand. He knew exactly what was happening this time and he wanted to make sure it would be a repeat of their earlier session. He wanted her to know that it wasn't just a one-time thing; he was learning and he was going to show her a good time.

---

sex summary: https://sites.google.com/view/running-in-circles/summaries/nsfw11#h.r5gk4dkhn39z

---

For the first time with this particular duck, Goldie allowed herself the luxury of post-coital cuddling. She laid her head against Scrooge’s chest and idly played with his feathers. She felt good. Not just from all the gold she’d earned (fair and square!) and the much improved sex, but her heart felt almost full for the first time in her life. Calmly laying there with him, nowhere to go and no reason to rush off...it was nice.

She’d once made fun of him for acting like his name meant he could do anything, but a little part of her was starting to think he was right. Scrooge McDuck was certainly a capable man. She felt safe and warm under the blanket with him and started to drift off to sleep.

Scrooge was also feeling very good about himself. He’d made a ton of money, had the best sex of his life, and Goldie hadn’t stolen a thing from him all day. He could barely believe that just a day earlier they were arguing over her trying to jump his claim.

He glanced down at her when he noticed she’d stopped playing with the feathers on his chest. Her breathing had evened out, and it was clear she had fallen asleep. Scrooge’s heart started beating faster. This was new territory for them - it felt domestic in ways he didn’t fully understand. But he liked it a lot.

He thought back to earlier in the day when he said they hated each other and Goldie nodded and smiled. That felt like a confirmation to him, that despite all the physicality between them they were still enemies...but he didn’t really hate her. He couldn’t, as much as he tried. Flirting and kissing and touching were still new concepts to him, but Scrooge knew their relationship couldn’t be dismissed as just blowing off steam. There was something more between them.

Scrooge stared at Goldie’s sleeping face and felt an urge to kiss her forehead. He stopped himself and sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head onto the ground. It was impossible to tell if Goldie felt something more, too, or if she was just having fun with him. If he brought it up...she could ruin him. Mock him, reject him, or worse...use him. Take all he had and leave.

If he couldn’t trust her with his money, how could he trust her with his heart? Scrooge McDuck wasn’t a gambling man. So he sighed and shifted positions so his beak laid gently on top of hers. He wasn’t going to risk losing everything when what they had now was just fine.

---

the following link leads to graphic/explicit sexual text, please do not read if under 18 but if you do anyway please dont tell me you did lol https://sites.google.com/view/running-in-circles/summaries/nsfw11

#ducktales #scroldie #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #marshall cabrera #the outlaw scrooge mcduck #fic #carrofics #fics #running in circles

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pastrnaks-sainz · 3 years

Text

Out of my Element

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: As a part of their summer team bonding, the Flames were taking part in sports that were vastly different from hockey. This week was Spruce Meadows, one of the biggest show jumping competitions in the world, and it just so happened to be in Calgary. Matty wasn’t used to all the work that went into the horse world, but he was having fun. And the pretty rider in the warm up ring definitely helped things along.

Request: So i saw you say that you're an equestrian! Can you write something with matty where the team have to help out at a showjumping competition or something and Mattys see’s you and says youre cute and one of the boys says I spoke to her earlier shes really nice and matty comes over and they end up getting together after a couple months (from anon)

A/N: Finally my useless knowledge of Spruce Meadows and pro jumping will be useful

~~~~

“This is literally the last thing I want to be doing right now,” Elias groaned as he shaded his eyes from the sun.

“For one, I told you to wear sunglasses,” Matty scolded as he ran his hand down the face of the horse closest to him. “And two, these guys aren’t so bad. And the riders aren’t half bad either.”

“You would think so,” Elias snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matty asked, preparing himself to hand Elias an ass whooping depending on his next words.

“You’ve got a thing for athletes, man,” Elias answered. Matty’s shoulders relaxed as he smiled and shook his head.

“You know there isn’t much time for chit-chatting when your rider is up next, boys,” Alex, your groom said as he slipped a saddle onto the rack in front of the stall.

“Sorry,” Matty quickly apologized, missing Elias’s exaggerated eye roll. “What can we do?”

“Hold Y/N’s ring bag,” Alex said, out of breath as he passed the small backpack to him. “If she needs anything it’ll be in there.”

Alex’s voice trailed off to just above a whisper as he went down his mental checklist, making sure he had everything before bringing Matty and Elias down to the kiss’n’cry next to the ring.

Matty was excited. He had been horseback riding a couple of times, but had never seen anything of this caliber. With his, and the rest of the Flames’ presence, Spruce Meadows had turned into one of the best cross sports collaborations. Charlie Jacobs, professional show jumper and CEO of the Boston Bruins, the Canadian and US Olympic teams, and the Flames were all together. The weekend was a sports Mecca.

“How are you feeling?” Alex asked you as he came to stand next to your horse, his hand resting on your knee.

“Little nervous with my favorite hockey team here, but otherwise I’m fine,” you answered, glancing up to where Matty and Elias were bickering.

“Good luck,” Alex smiled before joining Matty, Elias, and your trainer as you rode into the ring.

To say Matty was in awe would be an understatement. He had always thought hockey players played the toughest sport, but as he watched you and your horse soar over the fences that were almost as tall as he was. He found himself getting nervous each time you approached a jump.

He let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding when you finished the round clear. The roar that went up from the crowd as you landed beneath the time limit and with no rails down surprised Matty. He didn’t expect the spectators to get so excited.

He stepped back after your round, letting your trainer and team handle things. The last thing he wanted to do after something that had so obviously gone very, very right was to get in the way.

“Oh he’s smitten,” Milan chuckled as he joined Matty and Elias by an empty stall across from your set up.

“Well she’s cute,” Matty didn’t even try to put up a fight.

“I was talking to her earlier,” Milan said as you started to make your way over to them. Matty felt his heart skip a beat. “She’s really nice.”

“Hope things aren’t too boring for you boys,” you said, tucking your gloves in your back pocket and unbuckling your helmet. “Far cry from hockey, I know.”

“It’s interesting,” Matty was quick to answer. Milan and Elias slowly edged away from the conversation, leaving you and Matty by yourselves. “Matthew Tkachuk”

“I know,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Sorry, I’m a big Flames fan. I was really excited when I found out you’d be here.”

“I’ll admit I was a bit skeptical at first, but I’m really liking it here,” he said thoughtfully. Your chest warmed. Matty was the first guy you’d talked to that didn’t immediately use a sexual innuendo when he found out you were an equestrian.

“Do you want to come say hi to my horse,” you said, pivoting on your heel. Matty followed excitedly. “This guy’s carried me through a lot.”

Matty studied how you interacted with your horse. Your face and eyes lit up the second your hand came into contact with his forehead. It was then that he finally realized the relationship between horse and rider wasn’t owner-pet, but one of teammates.

“What’s his name?” Matty asked as your horse turned his attention away from you.

“Fraser,” you answered, watching as he mouthed at the pocket of Matty’s jeans. You reached into your helmet bag for some cookies. “He’s looking for treats. Here, hold your hand flat under his nose, like this.”

“That feels weird,” Matty laughed as Fraser took the cookies from his hand. “I like this guy.”

“Well you passed the Fraser test,” you said, your hand resting on Fraser’s shoulder. “That means we can be friends.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

Laughter rang through the air as Matty’s hand snaked around your waist. You’d gotten used to touches like these, as well as the times when Matty let his fingers glide across the back of your hand.

“The biggest congratulations of the night, though, goes to Y/N for winning the Grand Prix in DC!” Milan exclaimed, raising his glass. The people at the party followed suit, the riders from team Canada as well as the entirety of the Flames roster.

“I knew you could do it,” Matty leaned down and whispered in your ear. You felt your cheeks warm at the close contact.

“Couldn’t have done it without my personal cheerleader,” you responded, looking up at him with a bright smile.

Matty had gone to your competitions in New York and Washington DC, the latter could not have worked out more perfect. He had been in town for a game against the Capitals, and had the next day off. It had been a last minute thing, both of you forgetting to tell the other that you were going to be in the city at the same time. He’d managed to secure some last minute tickets, and you the same. Though tickets to your event were significantly easier to get a hold of. Your big win had come just twenty four hours after his, and he had never been prouder.

“Ten bucks they finally get together tonight,” Elias nudged Milan as he watched you and Matty shamelessly flirt.

“Make it fifteen and I’ll tie your skates for a week,” Milan countered quickly.

“Deal,” Elias stuck his hand out to shake on it.

“Let’s get some fresh air?” Matty asked, his eyes darting around the room.

“Matty, it’s the middle of December in Calgary,” you responded with a small laugh.

“Then we’ll just leave the room,” he took your hand and weaved through the different clusters of people having conversations. Nobody, aside from Elias and Milan, noticed you had not so subtly slipped out. Elias gave Milan a smug look.

“This is better,” you sighed as Matty pulled you into an empty room. He closed the door behind you, leaving it open a crack.

“I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Matty said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You gave him a look, telling him to go on. “Ever since Spruce Meadows I’ve kinda had this crush on you. I know this is probably really-”

You cut him off, pecking his lips. He stared at you with a blank expression for half a moment before cupping your face in his hand and pulling you back for a longer kiss. His lips were chapped against yours, and his skin was rough. Though he didn't fail to work you over in complete bliss through just the simplest of touches.

“I’ve waited to do that for a long time,” his voice was raspy as he pulled away, his forehead still pressed against yours.

“I was wondering when you were going to buck up and do it,” you quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Matty.

“Equestrians,” he hummed, kissing along the shell of your ear. “Always calling it like it is.”

“I don’t call it like it is out on the course I die,” you smiled, Matty’s lips trailing down your neck. He hummed against your skin before straightening.

“One of the reasons you’re always going to be tougher than me.”

“Go check on the kids and make sure they’re not playing hide the zucchini in my guest bedroom,” Milan told Elias after you and Matty hadn’t resurfaced ten minutes after leaving.

“So eager to lose this bet, aren’t you,” Elias smirked to himself. He walked down the hall you and Matty had disappeared down and peaked through the crack in the door. He smiled at what he saw. You were leaning into Matty’s shoulder as he peppered kisses over the plains of your face.

“Well?” Milan asked as Elias returned.

“They’re not doing what you thought they were doing but you better be ready to tie my skates for the next week.”

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thestuffedalligator · 4 years

Text

On a small farm outside of a small town in Canada, a horde of four-hundred thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers on horseback rode out through a hole in time and space.

One of them had a thick leather glove, on which a golden eagle perched. Its handler reached up, slipped the little hood off the eagle’s head, and flicked his wrist. It took off, caught a thermal, soared in a lazy arc, dove, spread its talons forward, and then hit a window with a thunk.

Daniel DiSebastian, who was fifteen and on the other side of the window, stared. The eagle had managed to sink its talons into the mesh of the window screen before it stunned itself. It was hanging upside down. Over it, Dan saw a horde of four-hundred thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers standing in formation in his neighbour’s field.

He stared for a moment longer. Curiosity won over self-preservation, and he walked out onto the porch of the house for a better view.

There was a ripping noise, the sound of panicked flapping, and something huge and tawny swooped low over Dan’s head. He ducked and only just managed to see the golden eagle fly in a wide circle back towards the horde of waiting soldiers. He heard a distant shout. Then two-hundred-and-forty of the soldiers drew their bows and fired into the air, creating a screaming cloud of arrows that blotted out the sun before raining down in a lethal shower.

Eighty-seven of these arrows hit Dan.

Dan died instantly.

He got better. When he did, the horde was already gone.

Eleven months later, Dan was mostly sure that whatever had happened that day eleven months ago had not, in fact, happened.

He was very happy to accept that it hadn’t happened until he walked into a Tim Hortons for a coffee and a donut and walked out to find a golden eagle perched on the sign for the drive-through.

Dan blinked. The eagle blinked. It took off with a heavy thump of wings, and Dan noticed the four-hundred thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers on horseback in the parking lot.

There was a whistling noise. Dan was hit by one-hundred-and-seventy-nine-arrows.

Dan died instantly.

He got better. The horde was gone again. One of them had stolen his donut.

It was already dark when Dan and Cameron Burnaby walked out of the theatre.

“God, what a bad movie,” she laughed. Her breath came out in puffs of vapour in the November air.

“Like not even so bad it’s good,” Dan said. “It’s so bad it goes all around the world and crosses back into bad.”

“It’s supposed to be the last one, right?”

“That’s what I heard?”

Another puff of laughter. “Hope,” Cameron Burnaby said, grinning. “That’s what you hope.”

A huge bird took off from the sign over the theatre. Cameron Burnaby oohed at the sight and watched as it flew away.

Dan looked at her. This was nice. It was slow, but it was nice. It was nevertheless slightly spoiled by the little anxious voice that banged around in his hindbrain. It had been a year since his last attack. It was bound to happen eventually, and he had no idea how to bring it up in conversation. ‘So, I see you like the Mongolian beef and broccoli. Speaking of Mongolia, have I ever told you that I’ve been killed by Mongols four times?’

He had to tell her. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe they were done. It had been a whole year. Maybe killing him four times was enough for them. Surely killing somebody once was enough for most people, right?

Cameron Burnaby turned back at him and grinned. “So!” she said. “Was it the worst horror movie you’ve ever seen?”

He shook himself out of a vision of archers on horseback. “Nope, not even,” he said, walking forward again. “There was this one movie that came out last year. It’s about a guy who kidnaps tourists and turns them into walruses, it’s amazingly—”

Dan slipped on the ice. His leg flew up from underneath him. He felt sudden weightlessness and there was a crack as he landed on the sidewalk.

Everything hurt. Stars flashed across his vision. They faded to reveal the face of Cameron Burnaby, mittens clasped over her mouth. “Are you okay?” she asked.

No, Dan thought. “Yep,” Dan groaned. He pulled himself up onto his elbows. “Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

Cameron Burnaby offered him a hand. He took it, she pulled him up to his feet, and the two were suddenly standing much closer than he had expected.

Dan swallowed. He was suddenly aware of a thousand tiny details. The snowflakes that hung in her hair. The freckles on her nose. The shape of her lips. The terror in her eyes which were looking at something just over and past his shoulder.

He was briefly aware of seventeen arrows hitting the back of his skull.

Dan died instantly.

He got better. Cameron Burnaby was retching in the snow.

“What the fuck was that?!” she finally said, wiping the corner of her mouth with a mitten.

Dan considered a variety of responses. He decided that they all sounded stupid. He settled for the only one he knew was accurate. “A horde of four-hundred thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers,” he sighed.

“They – you—” She gestured wildly. “Your face.”

Dan winced and eased himself onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t want you to see that,” he said.

There was a pause. “Has this happened before?” Cameron Burnaby asked.

Dan thought. “Yeah,” he said. “Five times, counting this one.”

“So this is just a thing that happens.”

“It – yeah,” he said. “I think so. It is.”

Cameron Burnaby nodded. “Oh. Okay.”

Another pause. A car drove past. Cameron Burnaby stood up. “I’m going to go.”

Dan nodded. “Right,” he said. “Some other time?”

There was no answer. Dan closed his eyes. He laid down on the sidewalk and listened to the crunch of snow under boots until they died away. Snowflakes landed on his face, tiny pinpricks of cold which stung and faded almost instantly as they melted.

There was a thump. Dan opened his eyes and looked over. There was a golden eagle standing there, twisting its head to glare at Dan.

Dan glared back. “I hate you,” he said. “I really, deeply hate you.”

The eagle, apparently satisfied with the answer, took off.

Another two-hundred-and-forty arrows sprouted from the sky.

Dan died instantly.

He got better. Physically, at least.

Dan had made the account because it had been five years since his date with Cameron Burnaby.

He looked it over again. The picture wasn’t great – he had tried several different angles and decided that he just didn’t have any good angles – but he was at least a little proud of the summary. Bi fella seeking someone to run from these time-travelling Mongol hordes with. Is that a metaphor? Contact me now to find out. Likes: coffee shops, people watching, history podcasts, dislikes: horses, arrows, people on horses with arrows, the CW show Arrow.

It was a long and glorious joke. Just like him.

He closed the app when he reached his car. He needed to drive. He didn’t have a specific location in mind. He just needed to drive somewhere. Anywhere.

Sometimes on drives like this, he’d drown out his thoughts with gory history podcasts. This time he let his mind wander.

Here he was. Daniel DiSebastian, twenty-four, killed by time-travelling Mongols twelve times. The butt of some cosmic running gag. Living in a cheap, empty condo in the city.

He turned a corner. Even the streets were empty this late at night.

Supposed to be empty. Dan turned onto the highway and was faced with a horde of four-hundred thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers.

The car squealed to a stop. Dan stared. He’d studied – or at least, he’d listened to a few podcasts about the Mongols. They could pull back the string of a one-hundred-and-sixty-pound bow twelve times a minute and could carry one-hundred-and-fifty arrows in a quiver.

A part of his brain wondered what they could do to a 2004 Chrysler Sebring.

The rest of his brain said: Fuck it.

What happened next happened very quickly. Dan heard the engine scream as he floored the gas. He heard one-hundred-and-twelve arrows drum on the roof of the car. He saw another twelve as they punched through the windshield. Through the web of cracks he thought he saw movement, saw the cavalry part like a sea.

Then he was in the middle of the horde. Horses and men and spears were tangled around him, a whirlwind of screams and smells. He felt the car lurch as it ran over something. A few bodies threw themselves onto the hood of the car and were thrown off. Something landed with a thump on his roof.

And then he was on the other side.

The car screamed through the dark until it found its way back to the parking lot of his condo. Dan parked quickly, threw open a door, ran out, and retched onto the asphalt.

“Who’s the joke now!” he screamed between gags. “I’M DANIEL MOTHERFUCKING DISEBASTIAN!”

The parking lot echoed his name. His breath was ragged, and his throat burned. He felt his heartbeat slow to the point that he could make out individual beats, and then he noticed the arrow stuck in his sternum.

He touched it gingerly. “Oh fuck,” he hissed. He tried to pull it out. “Fuck me, seriously.”

Something went thump behind him. Dan turned. A thirteenth-century Mongol soldier had let go of the roof of his car.

He was holding a curved knife.

Dan died slowly.

It was, he decided, a lot worse than dying instantly.

So here he was. Daniel DiSebastian, twenty-four, lying on the asphalt, killed by time-travelling Mongols thirteen times. He stared up at the sky, trying to see stars through the haze of the city.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A profile picture of a man with a beard and a tattooed feather on his neck had sent him a message.

I’ll bite. Is it a metaphor?

Dan looked at the profile picture. He looked up at the sky. He wiggled his thumbs in thought before he tapped out a response. That’s a great question.

Their first date was that Saturday.

They went to an old book shop. They bought each other a book. Theo had bought Dan a copy of The Song of Achilles, and Dan had almost managed not to laugh, and promised Theo that he’d explain the joke later.

They walked out of the shop together.

The sun was blotted out.

Dan died instantly.

He woke to the sound of running feet.

Panic started to seize up in his chest – oh god they were here they wanted to crush their enemies and see them driven before them and hear the lamentations of the women – when he heard the shrieking giggle.

Panic paused. Mongols didn’t giggle. Did they? No, not as far as he knew. So it wasn’t Mongols. Who giggles? Kids?

The kids across the hall. Of his apartment. Yes. This was fine.

Adrenaline sizzled on contact with relief and boiled into seething indignation. “Somebody’s daddy should have been castrated,” he muttered.

Theo twisted beside him. “It’s like, eleven in the morning, babe.”

Dan glared at the stucco surface of the ceiling. “Fine,” he said. “They get a pass. This time.”

Theo snorted. He turned his phone of with a click, and he rolled to wrap his arm over Dan’s chest. “Don’t get maaad at them,” he said, nuzzling his chin into Dan’s neck.

“I’ll get as maaad as I want,” Dan said, the whine of the defeated.

An hour later, Dan pulled on his pants. “Remind me what we need again?”

“No, I’ll go with you,” Theo said. “I can’t trust you to buy groceries anymore.”

“Rude.”

“Rude and true. We still have fifteen bags of Tostitos.”

Dan sighed. “Is that just going to be a thing now?” he asked. “The Tostitos Incident?”

“I already have your tombstone planned. ‘Here Lies Daniel DiSebastian. He Once Bought Twenty Bags of Tostitos Chips By Accident.” Theo wiggled his fingers in the air to draw quotation marks around the words ‘By Accident.’ “We Don’t Know How It Happened Either.”

Dan wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, it’ll look great next to yours. ‘Here Lies Theodore Oliveira, Stung By Bees Forty-Five Times Specifically On The Crotch.”

“Now hold on.”

“We Don’t Know How It Happened, But We Can Guess!”

Theo shook his head. “Cool,” he said. “Cool, cool, cool. So because I learned a thing about Cleopatra, I’m the guy who wants a vibrator made of bees.”

Dan shrugged as he pulled his coat on. “I mean, you seemed pretty keen about it.”

“Fuck you, Tostitos.”

“Mm. Love you too, Cleo.”

When they were in the parking lot, Theo said, “You know I love you too, right?”

Dan looked over. “Yes?” he said. “We’ve been living together for a year, babe.”

“I know, I know. It’s just—”

“If you didn’t then I’m shit at reading signals.”

Theo grinned. “Yeah, your Bi-dar is total garbage.”

“I can’t connect to the Bi-Fi.”

“You need some…” Theo grimaced. “Bi-focals? To see who’s attracted to you?”

“That was terrible, Theo.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get bi.”

Dan snorted. “Jesus Christ. Anyways. You were saying?”

Theo shrugged. “I dunno. I said fuck you, and you said love you, and…” He blew the air out of his cheeks. “This is the longest I’ve been in a relationship, and I think I know what’s normal for us? But sometimes I’m not sure I know.”

Dan laughed, grabbed the lapels of Theo’s jacket, pulled him down and kissed him. “Fuck, I don’t know either. But I haven’t been normal in years, Theo. This is a ‘not normal’ I can take.”

Theo smiled. “How’re you feeling today, by the way?”

“Good!” Dan grinned. “I’m feeling good.”

There was a thump. Dan looked over and saw a golden eagle take off from the tailgate of a parked truck.

“Actually, hold that thought,” he said, taking a couple steps back.

Two-hundred-and-thirty-nine arrows came screaming out of the sky.

Dan died instantly.

He got better. He heard Theo asking if he was okay.

“Please tell me you saved the donuts,” he muttered.

There was a pause. “Y’know, you keep saying that, and I’ve never actually seen them steal anything from you.”

Dan screwed open an eye to glare. It didn’t last. Theo was squatting on the pavement next to him with his chin in his hand and a smile crinkling the corners of his mouth, and goddammit, he was cute.

He tried anyways. “Excuse you, how many times have you been killed by thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers?”

Theo shrugged. “Exactly zero,” he admitted. “But I’ve seen you get killed by thirteenth-century Mongol soldiers three times now, and I have the benefit of watching what they do while you’re out of it.”

“Oh, what, so someone else stole that donut? Some asshole was like, ‘Oh dope, a dead kid and a donut, yoink!’”

Theo grinned. “I’ve seen weirder things happen.”

Dan stared up at the sky. “Y’know what?” he said. “Totally fair.”

Dan got up and lived.

At least until eight months later. But he’d get better.

#narrativia #fantasy #writing #fantasy writing #absurdism #posting an old story because #look #i've had a bad day #i just want to post a story i know is good

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battle-of-alberta · 2 years

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Battle of Alberta Chapter 6: Cloud Minding pg. 5

Another story about the personified cities (and towns) of the wild rose province in a land known to some as Canada. Cloud Minding shifts the focus from the big cities to the more rural areas, where lives and livelihoods are drifting away from traditional industries towards tourism. Updates every other Friday, fingers crossed.

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Again to clarify: Vulcan is nonbinary and uses they/them. Do I spend a lot of time dwelling on how this would have affected them over the past 100 years? In the province of the Severely Normal? yes. Do I have real answers? no.

But I think it’s important to not fall into the trap of assuming cities are inherently more queer-friendly than small towns? I have heard stories of people here who struggled when they came to the city for university and had an easier time being accepted in their home communities and I think about that a lot, although it was the opposite for me.

Drawing random background characters is so difficult I swear. But there will be more of them.

easter eggs

- yes even the Home Hardware in Vulcan is covered in trek references, I was poking around google streetview and thinking “wolf 359 why do i just naturally know that’s referencing the borg conflict in tng”

- I reference Adira and Gray but I haven’t seen Discovery yet and haven’t figured out how I’m going to be able to watch it so shh, no spoilers please! I think Adira is the only character mentioned who is canonically nonbinary (Soren coming close as a trans woman from a non binary species) but I think it’s helpful to have multiple representations of gender to draw on over the decades in any case.

- The small town Captain Kirk ah, Will be born in, is Riverside, Iowa. In the best of all the Trek movies he responds to “Are you from outer space?” with “I’m from Iowa, I only work in outer space.” (and oddly enough I spent some time in Iowa myself lol)

- Re: “the old folks had to get used to me before”: I’m not sure how folks felt when it started coming to light that the town avatar seemed to be ethnically Chinese (at least in part).

things I don’t miss:

- I went to school in rural AB from 2005-2010 when the word “gay” was flung viciously at anything or anyone one didn’t like and used just about interchangeably with “that sucks”. The homophobia was so explicit and prevalent, especially in places like mine where most people worked in the oil industry, that the teachers would assume that it was an insult first rather than a self identification and would automatically shut it down rather than explain why it was not to be used in that way. I had so much internalized homophobia from that time I still struggle with - and I realize in retrospect that I was read as queer by my classmates long before I knew myself and that... that is a weird feeling. I wonder if it’s changed.

- [also thinks about how i tried to get my friends into star trek and they didnt take it seriously because i guess it was pretty gay too] [just another situation in which i was humiliated and ashamed to share things i liked lol...]

things i do miss:

- shout out to the girl in grade 9 who gave me a valentine (and rolled your eyes at the boy who said “oOoO LoOoVerRs”) i hope you’re doing well wherever you are :)

#projectcanada cities #hws oc #hetalia oc #hetalia ask blog #hws ask blog #pc: vulcan #pc: drumheller #pc: st. paul #boab cloud minding #boab comic #digital art #clip studio paint #hapo art

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stilldani24 · 3 years

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You Are Here 📍 - A Bucky x Reader Fanfiction - In the Bar/Heave Away/Screech In

Description: On September 11th, 2001, the world changed forever. During the horrors in New York City, planes all over the world bound for the United States were promptly landed at the nearest airport. For a small town of nine thousand in Newfoundland, Canada, thirty-eight planes were grounded at the Gander Airport. As a Gander native, you were going about your normal day. For Bucky Barnes, a Brooklyn native, landing in this backwater Canadian town while terror was happening back home was a whole new adventure in it of itself. While this will be based on Come From Away, it is also a completely true story.

Warnings: This fic deals with the events surrounding September 11th, 2001.

A/N: I’ve also included a visual on what Y/N’s home layout is like, as well as what an ugly stick is since the description may not be enough.

Word Count: 3349

PROLOGUE//CHAPTER ONE//CHAPTER TWO//CHAPTER THREE//CHAPTER FOUR//MASTERLIST

7:45PM, Thursday, September 13th, 2001

“Guys, people are starting to crack,” Constable Barton sighed as he slightly paced in front of the woman. A few of the townsfolk were meeting at the mayor’s office, as they needed to discuss things and a plan about what to do for the upcoming days. “People can’t keep going like this. I’ve had to stop three fights today alone at the school, not counting the one Y/N and her guest had to stop in my absence.”

Y/N sighed as she crossed her legs underneath her, sitting on top of Tony’s desk. “Clint’s right. We’re strung out enough, but imagine what they’re feeling. These folks are in a strange place with no idea when they’re going back.”

Tony was turning in his swivel chair, going in slow circles as the gears in his head seemed to be doing the same thing. “What do you suggest we do, then? There’s not much to do other than stay in the shelters, eat, sleep, and worry.”

“Not to mention there’s a hurricane coming,” Natasha then spoke up, arms crossed over her chest. She still wore her white Rogers TV button-up polo. No one was sure if it was the same one she had been wearing for three days straight or if she changed it every day, but no one cared either way. There were other things to worry about. “Some of the pilots are concerned.”

“Not much we can do about that,” Tony groaned now as he placed his hands on his knees, standing up now and walking over to the window. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, looking out of the glass. Several plane people were milling around the town despite the sun having gone down, talking amongst themselves as they walked back to their shelters for the night. “This is insane, right? Like, we’re really going through this? We’re not going through some mass hysteria?”

“If we are, Health Canada needs to put the entire town out of its misery,” Y/N then joked lightly, but then shook her head. “This is really happening.”

Clint then slammed his hands on the desk next to Y/N, making the woman shriek while everyone else jumped in surprise and looked at their usually mild-mannered constable. “We need to stop thinking of ourselves! We were safe in our town while any one of those planes could have ended up in a building that morning!”

The room fell into a hushed, slightly awkward silence after his outburst. What he said weighed heavy on their hearts. He was right. What they were going through was hard, like Y/N had said earlier, but who knew what they were feeling. After about thirty seconds, Clint sighed. “I’m sorry. That was sudden. Sorry for scaring everyone.”

“No,” Y/N then spoke up, placing a gentle hand on Clint’s shoulder. “You’re right. I think we’re all getting a little strung out. Come on. Let’s brainstorm. What could you need right at this moment?”

Tony scoffed softly as he turned to look back out the window. “A shot of the strongest Screech in town.”

Y/N snapped her fingers as she pointed to them. “Bingo. Why don’t we open up the Legion and have a bar night? Wanda and Hope are already hosting a movie night for the kids, but the adults need a fun night, too! I’ll grab my fiddle, maybe I could get a couple of the others to play the guitar or the ugly stick?”

Tony began shaking his finger at her as he began to turn, looking at Y/N now. “Smart, you’re smart. No wonder you became a teacher.”

“I teach first graders shapes and how to spell cat, but thank you,” Y/N grinned at their mayor, hopping up from his desk now and heading for the door. “I’ll set up the Legion, go get all the booze you can pack in your cars and meet me there. Nat, put out a broadcast letting people know and we can get this going within the hour.”

“Yes, ma’am!” The three of them replied before grabbing their car keys, jackets, or television station microphones before hurrying off to get things ready.

8:28 PM, Thursday, September 13th, 2001

“Gabi!” Y/N called as she slammed her car door, having parked haphazardly in her driveway as she got to her home. Bucky and Steve had gone back with her after dinner since Y/N was requested for the meeting, so Gabi had her front door open to let in the night breeze as they chatted in the living room over some tea.

Gabi all but dropped her empty teacup, Bucky lurching forward and fumbling to catch it as the woman sprinted towards her front door. “What?! What’s going on?!”

“We’re going drinking! Let’s go! Grab the guys!” Y/N called towards her, opening the front door to her own home and running in. Gabi raised an eyebrow as she heard some fumbling within the home, turning and shrugging towards the men in her living room as they gave her confused looks.

Bucky leaned up a bit as he looked towards the window at the end of the hallway. Gabi’s home was the same layout as Y/N’s except inverted, so he knew he could see into her home from where he sat. The door to her bedroom was wide open, and she soon emerged wearing slightly warmer clothes and carrying a violin.

“Drinking?” Gabi then asked excitedly as she registered what her best friend had shouted at her. As much as they loved being elementary school teachers and working with kids, Y/N and Gabi were still young women and loved getting fucking hammered on the weekends. And despite it not being a weekend, they thought they had a good excuse to do so a bit early.

Y/N then left her house, shutting the front door again and making a “hurry up!” gesture towards Gabi with her fiddle and bow still in one hand. Gabi quickly hurried back into her house, grabbing her car keys and gesturing for the men to follow. They got up just as fast as she had, grabbing their donated coats and the three of them left the house. On the way to the Legion, which Y/N had set up in record time for the bar staff and soon-to-arrive patrons, Bucky rode over with Y/N and Steve did the same with Gabi. Upon arriving, the bar was already packed with plane people and locals alike.

“This is more packed and lively than any bar in New York!” Steve laughed as they entered the packed Legion. Despite Natasha only having put out the broadcast thirty minutes prior, it looked like a nightclub in there. Some people were also already piss drunk, unaware that Canadian beer got you drunk faster, so they were out swimming commando in the river out back. A few locals were up on the stage, playing an accordion, an acoustic guitar, and someone had in fact brought out an ugly stick. For those unaware, like the plane people, an ugly stick was a broomstick with a rubber boot on the bottom, a small tin bucket on the top, and jingle bells down along the sides of the stick. To play it as an instrument, it was slammed against the floor and hit with a drumstick and it sounded just like everyone thought it would. This one was also dressed up like a fisherman, a mop head on top of the tin bucket to look like hair and a yellow fisherman's hat on top of the mop.

“Hey! Y/N!” Bruce Banner, a physician at the local walk-in clinic, was on stage with a few others with instruments. He was playing along with the rest of the band, laughing as he watched the plane people try and copy the Irish jigs the locals were doing, before gesturing for her to join them.

Y/N laughed as she nodded, turning to Bucky and looking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay? Grab a few drinks, I’ll be back as soon.”

Bucky smiled in return, nodding as the woman ran towards the stage and hopped on. His cheeks and ears tinged red whenever she spoke to him. After his chat with Steve earlier today, about how they were completely smitten with these two women, he couldn’t hide his affections to her. It’s not like he could anyways. Butterflies just erupted within him every time she said a simple word to him. And as he sat at a table, drinking a beer and watching her play the fiddle with the rest of the band, he couldn’t help but fall in even deeper. With everything that happened in the last few days, he shouldn’t be falling in love when people back home were suffering. But here he was in some backwater Canadian town, surrounded by hundreds of people he didn’t know, thinking of ways to keep this woman in his life.

Steve and Gabi were no different. Gabi didn’t play an instrument, so she and Steve had been quick to head to the bar together. They had probably downed six shots of Screech each in thirty minutes so now they were drunkenly dancing to the folk music coming from the stage. The way that Steve held Gabi made it clear of his feelings.

After an hour of the night beginning, the band was as drunk as the rest of the patrons so they switched to playing a few CDs and even beginning karaoke for those who were really drunk. Some time during the night, Bucky had left the packed bar to get some fresh air. Those who had gone swimming in the river had finally redressed and were warming up on the grass.

Y/N left the building in search of him not long after he left, crossing her arms over her chest for warmth. While it had been a warmer September, the nights were still plenty chilly. Warmer than the river, that was for sure, but still cold. She found Bucky sitting on a nearby bench, holding a beer bottle in his hand and leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey, you.”

Bucky looked up when he heard her voice, offering her a smile. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t sober either. He had really left the bar in order to clear his mind. A million thoughts had been running through his brain and he needed to sort them out. As soon as she entered his sight, however, they seemed to clear instantly. “Hey. What are you doing out here?”

The woman shrugged as she sat down next to him, letting out a soft sigh. “Gabi and Steve are practically making out in there and I wanted to give them some space, y’know? Plus it’s getting way too loud now that I’m fucking sloshed.”

“Jesus,” Bucky barked out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair as he chuckled now. Steve was a very honest drunk so it was no wonder he had said something to Gabi about his feelings. He was more pissed the bastard beat him to the confession. “No wonder it’s so hot in there.”

“No kidding,” Y/N hummed softly. She was fiddling with her fingers, gently turning a ring she wore on her middle finger around. It was a simple silver band, no gems encrusted within. It very much suited who Y/N was as a person: simple, but beautiful.

Bucky took notice of her fiddling, raising an eyebrow. Over the past few days, she had really taken charge. Greeting them as they sat on the planes, offering them a place to sleep, and running the school like she was, it was weird for him to see her fiddling like that. It was like she was nervous. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answered quickly. Just a tad too quickly. She then cleared her throat, looking up from her fingers and offering Bucky a gentle smile. “Yeah, I’m alright. I’m just not used to relaxing this much. It feels weird to forget about my worries after all that’s happened.”

The Brooklyn native nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his beer now. “Understood. I’ve spent all this time since getting here wondering how things are going back home and to just unwind… I feel kind of guilty. There’s people suffering and I’m relaxing, having a beer.”

The silence that followed was laced with the feeling of guilt. Bucky felt guilty that he avoided the tragedy while his employees had to suffer through the trauma, and they were going to be experiencing that trauma for possibly the rest of their lives while he was going to be leaving Gander five pounds heavier and with a suntan.

“Hey,” Y/N then spoke up after a moment of that strained silence. Her heart nearly broke when Bucky looked up at her with tears in his eyes. “I have no idea what I can say to make you feel better. I don’t want to say that you’re lucky to survive or avoid it altogether, because those who did survive are still going through a lot. Even this, landing here in town, is going to be traumatizing. But, just know that I’m right here for you. Okay? I’m not just someone who’s hosting you because you basically dropped out of the sky. I’m a friend.”

As soon as she finished her final word, she was tugged into this bone-breaking hug. It kind of threw Y/N off guard from how sudden it was but it wasn’t unwelcome. Her arms comfortably wrapped around the man, holding him close as he let out all of his feelings. Like she said, she was going to be there for him no matter what.

“Everyone back home is going through so much trauma and loss and here I am, in a little slice of paradise falling in love,” Bucky sniffled after a few seconds of tearful sniffles.

Y/N was instantly taken aback, keeping one arm around him safely and the other hand raised up as if to loosely say “stop” to an invisible person. “Wait, wait… Falling in love?”

“Shit,” Bucky immediately cursed, his face now fully beet red as he realized what he had said. He cleared his throat, trying to get words to come out but failing each and every time. Y/N watched him now, fondness in her eyes as she waited for him to say something. “Yeah, uh… I have no defense.”

Y/N now let out a beautiful, delightful laugh as she continued to hold the man. “Well… I don’t think you need one. I think we should talk a bit more when we’re more sober. Don’t you think?”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief, running his fingers through his hair once more before nodding. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Hey! Lovebirds!” Tony’s voice then called from the Legion, making the two of them look over at him. He too was fairly sloshed, having lost his suit jacket and tie somewhere within the building and his cheeks were rosy. “We’re having a Screech-In, and you bet your ass your boyfriend is becoming an honorary Newfoundlander!”

Y/N then gasped in excitement, grinning wickedly down at Bucky now. “Oh, you’re in for a treat. Come on!”

Within a second, they were back on their feet and hurrying back towards the Legion so they could partake in the most sacred of Newfoundland traditions.

12:02 AM, Friday, September 14th, 2001

Y/N and Bucky were laughing loudly as they stumbled their way home. Bucky was wearing a fisherman’s hat, slightly askew, and was heavily drunk on Screech. Steve and Gabi had gone home about an hour beforehand, right after being Screeched-In, so they were stumbling home on their own.

“I can’t believe you made me kiss a fish!” Bucky laughed loudly as they approached her house, holding the woman close by her waist as they tried to make their way up her front steps. There were only two but they could swear there was one on top of the other in a different way than usual. Stairs were hard.

Y/N hiccuped out a laugh. “It’s a vital part of the ceremony! If you don’t kiss the fish, you don’t get to become a Newfoundlander!”

Bucky was finally able to grab onto the doorknob, leaning forward as he was still standing on the top step. He easily swung the door open, falling forward now and almost sending Y/N with him. “Shit!”

“Bucky, you shithead!”

“Hey, you’re fine!” Bucky replied with a laugh, getting on his hands and knees on the stoop now and crawling into the house. Y/N was able to walk in normally after her, as she knew how to handle her Screech. That didn’t mean she was still stumbling, however. “Thank God you guys don’t lock your doors around here. I can’t imagine trying to find your keys like this.”

Y/N giggled drunkenly as she shut the door behind her, kicking off her shoes. Bucky was now laying tummy-down on the carpeted floor, eyes closed. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on the floor! Come on, I can’t drag you to bed, you’re two hundred pounds of pure muscle!”

Bucky groaned as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees now, crawling his way to the guest bedroom now. Without even undressing, he pulled himself into the bed and promptly passed out. Before going to bed herself, Y/N prepared for him a glass of water, a few Motrin, and an empty ice cream pail just in case before going into her room for the night.

7:21 AM, Friday, September 14th, 2001

What a wonderful sound to wake up to. The second Y/N opened her eyes, she could hear Bucky hacking into the ice cream pail she had left him the night before. Anyone’s first time having Screech was sure to make them hungover, but she wasn’t surprised that Bucky had thrown up from it. He had so much of it. With a little laugh, she got out of bed and pulled on her night coat and slid on her slippers.

“It’s only like this for a few hours!” Y/N called as she left her room, knocking on Bucky’s door slightly. She laughed when she heard a groan from within. “I’ll make you some toast and some tea, it’ll help.”

Y/N then approached the window at the end of the hallway towards the window, stretching her arms over her head before opening her shutters. “Morning, Gabi! How did you-- Oh my god!”

Gabi’s shutters were also open, as usual, but Y/N was now sure they weren’t supposed to be. Her best friend was bent over against her window sill, naked as the day she was born, Steve standing behind her and they were leaving nothing to the imagination as to what they were doing. The second Y/N saw them, she let out a scream. Gabi also screamed in surprise as Y/N quickly slammed her shutters shut again, eyes wide.

“I’m going to be in therapy for a month! And you’re paying for it!” Y/N yelled at her best friend, putting one hand to her forehead as she tried to wrap her head around what was happening. They had been getting close all night before but she was sure they weren’t going to be getting to that point any time soon. Well, now as Y/N thought about it twice and even three times, she expected nothing less from her best friend.

Not only were Y/N and Bucky bound to get together, considering they still had a lot to talk about, Steve and Gabi were more than likely to have something romantic, or at least sexual, emerge from this whole situation.

This was going to be a whole lot more than a few emails here and there once they went back home.

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Y/N's house layout (Gabi's is the same, just inverted):

An ugly stick:

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #avengers #marvel #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky fic #come from away

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radioduo · 3 years

Text

peregrinate || dsmp become human

word count: ~1,600

notes: peregrinate; to travel or wander from place to place

first // prev

Tubbo looked around nervously as he and Tommy approached the city. Lights blinked, and signs flashed on the different storefronts as the android and the boy wandered through the rain, and had he not been on the run, Tubbo might have taken time to appreciate the scenery. “Do you have any idea where you're going, Tommy?”

Tommy scoffed at the deviant, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. “Of course I fuckin’ know where I’m going, Tubbo, who d’you think I am?” he rolled his eyes. Softening his tone a bit, he said, “You trust me, right?”

“Well, yeah, of course, I trust you,” Tubbo replied immediately, adjusting his step to keep up with the taller boy, “but I also know that we need to be careful. You can’t be reckless like you usually are,” he warned. Tommy only grunted at him, and the two kept walking. They passed by stores and restaurants, hoping to find some help or a place to stay, but no luck. The window of every store had a sign that said "no androids allowed," and Tubbo knew that his LED would be a dead giveaway.

As the two were about to lose hope, Tommy's face suddenly lit up. “Oh, hey, look!” He exclaimed as the duo crossed the street. He pointed a finger over Tubbo’s shoulder. “That’s a motel over there, innit?” He asked, picking up his pace enthusiastically. “We could get a room for the night, sleep a little and get our shit together, huh?” He nudged Tubbo’s shoulder. “How 'bout it, bee boy?”

Tubbo rolled his eyes at Tommy and tilted his head.

X Keep looking

O Stay at motel

“Are you sure there aren’t any other places around here?” Tubbo asked, eyes drifting over the rest of the town in search of a different option. “It looks too out in the open to be safe. Someone could easily find us,” he murmured, anxiously rubbing his hands together.

Tommy shrugged. “I just know that I don’t want to be sleeping in some fuckin’ dirty car or something all night. Let's just check it out, okay? What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Tubbo made a mental list of all the outcomes but decided to keep quiet.

O Stay at motel

“Alright,” he conceded. “We can try it out, but it’s your fault if we get turned away or caught,” Tubbo huffed. “This stupid LED isn’t doing us any favors.” Tommy ignored him and crossed the street towards the motel, Tubbo close on his heels.

----------

“Can you believe we got the room?” Tommy whisper-yelled to Tubbo as he fiddled with the room keys. “That lady at the desk didn't even ask us any questions! I think my masculine energy intimidated her,” Tommy boasted as he swung open the door. He set his bag down on a bed and flopped onto the sheets with a loud sigh. Meanwhile, Tubbo looked around the space for a bathroom and some tools. “Tommy, did you bring anything sharp?” he asked. “Like, scissors or something.”

The other boy sat up and rummaged through his sodden bag. “I have my sewing kit with me but no scissors,” he said, frowning. “I hope nothing happens to our clothes," he said, most likely to himself. "I won't be able to fix them." Tommy returned to laying down, facing away from Tubbo with a huff.

Tubbo grimaced and entered the small bathroom. Was it worth changing his hair if he was unable to remove the LED? He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked a right state, he thought disappointedly. His hair was wet and matted to his forehead from the rain, and he wore a dirt-smudged shirt. He pulled a lock of wet brown hair over his eyes and stared at it. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to change up his appearance a tad.

O Blond

X White

He pondered his options for a bit, flipping back and forth between the two choices. If he was going to change his look, he was going to do it right.

X White

The android watched as snow-white pigment seeped through his once dark hair. A few wisps of brown were noticeable at the roots, but most of his hair had become pale as the moon. He blinked, pleased with himself, and wandered back into the bedroom where Tommy laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “What d’you think, bossman?” Tubbo asked, gesturing to his new hair.

Tommy glanced over and let out a snort of laughter. “What’s up with your ‘ead?” he asked jokingly, heaving himself into a sitting position. “Looks good, but why?”

Tubbo shrugged and sat on the bed opposite the human boy. “I dunno, I guess it might help us stay disguised,” he said, tracing the pattern on the bedsheets. “I’m eager to get rid of this LED, though.” A silence fell between them as the sounds of the city drifted into their room. Cars honking horns, people shouting, and wheels rolling through puddles filled the duo’s ears as they sat quietly in the room. “We can’t stay here for long, you know,” Tubbo said at last. “We should leave in the morning. Maybe find somewhere to go,” he suggested. “Is there anywhere else that’s safe? Maybe a different state or something?”

Tommy pulled out his phone, typing something. “Most states have some laws against your kind,” he said slowly. “I think our best bet is to head north, yeah? New York, Maine-”

“Canada?” Tubbo interrupted excitedly. “Yeah, I remember reading one of Wilbur’s magazines a while back! Canada doesn’t have any anti-android laws. If I get a bus or train ticket, I could be up there in at least three or four days!” he said with a grin. “I’ll have to leave you behind, though. It'll be alright! You won't need to be there anyway. It's my problem to solve.”

Tommy spluttered disbelievingly, setting his phone down. “Wha- the fuck are you on about, Tubbo? I’m coming with you, you can’t just take a train by yourself! Phil and the others will be fine without me, but you need someone to keep you out of trouble.” Tommy crossed his legs and smiled. “Enough about that,” he said, changing the topic. “I’m tired as balls, man, we’ve been running through the rain all night. I’m heading to sleep, alright?” he set his phone on the nightstand between their beds and turned off the lamp. “Night, Tubso.”

Tubbo laid back on his mattress and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

----------

The two woke up early the next day, pulling on their still-damp clothes and heading out the door. They agreed to take a bus to the northern part of Detroit, hoping to find tickets for a train heading north.

“Couldn’t you have found a better bus stop, Tommy?” Tubbo griped. “This one is next to the dump, the smell of garbage is pretty fucking ripe,” he said, waving a hand over his nose.

“Well, ex-CUSE me, Mr. Supercomputer,” Tommy retorted, “You’ve got so much knowledge in that noggin of yours, and you used none of it to find a better bus stop. Don’t start blaming me for this, I asked you multiple times if there was a closer one but you didn’t respond, that’s not my faul-”

“Wait, wait, wait, shut up for a second,” Tubbo demanded, cutting through Tommy’s ranting.

“Shut- don’t tell me to shut up! I’ll do what I damn well please, you b-"

“No, seriously, Tommy, be quiet,” Tubbo said, slapping a hand over the taller teen’s mouth. “Do you hear that?” The two stood silently for a moment before Tommy pried Tubbo’s fingers off his mouth. “What am I listening for?” Tommy asked, annoyed.

Tubbo didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace to a light jog and hurried over to a nearby garbage truck. “It’s coming from here,” he muttered to himself. Hoisting himself onto the back of it, he peered into the open back of the truck. Ignoring Tommy’s protests, he leaned into the truck and surveyed the bags of trash. His eyes landed on the thing making the noise.

An android. A child android, to be specific, making croaking noises. Tubbo felt a pang in his heart, and he leaped into the bags of garbage to get a closer look. The child had messy brown hair that covered most of his eyes and no LED. Where skin should have been covering his face and hands, there was nothing, just glossy metal. One of his eyes was missing, and he sounded like his speaker box was damaged. “What happened to you?” Tubbo murmured to himself, pulled the android out from the piles of rubbish. The child didn’t fight against him, clinging to his arm as the two hopped out of the truck.

“What are you doing?” Tommy whispered angrily. “You can’t just go takin' shit from the trash!”

“He’s not shit, Tommy, he’s an android. I think he was going to be thrown into the dump, probably going to get crushed for scrap metal,” Tubbo squeezed the child’s hand tightly, heart softening as the boy clutched his pant leg in return. “I can’t leave him here. You know that,”

“Well, we can’t take him with us either, Tubbo! We’ll never have enough money for three train tickets, and it’s obvious he’s not human. We’ll get caught for sure!” Tommy protested. “You have to leave him here.”

The android’s chest tightened as he stared at the small boy hugging his leg. On on hand, needed someone to take care of him, and perhaps Tubbo was meant to be that person. On the other, it would be dangerous walking around with something that would get them caught so easily.

X Rescue him

O Leave him

#tubbo #tommyinnit #dream smp #dream smp au #dsmp become human #my writing

32 notes · View notes

ccelinewritess · 4 years

Text

the distance between us

pairing- draco malfoy x reader

word count- 9.7k

summary- the first time draco uses the muggle post system, it goes so terribly wrong, and a letter falls into the hands of a girl who was never supposed to see it, a muggle at that.

warnings- curse words, ptsd, anxiety/ panic attacks, depression mention of death, murder, blood and burns aswell as insomia, seperation anxiety (?) and my grammar.if these may trigger you, i suggested not reading.

a/n- this took me a while to get out, sry abt that. the reader was set to live in a canadian town called kelowna, british columbia. it takes place in readers grade 11/12 and dracos 6/7 year. i hope it’s not to self inserted, and you guys can enjoy and relate to it. big thank you to @dracodear for the help on this, love you! also thanks to everyone who left owl name suggestions, all were awesome and i ended up going with @winnsmills suggestion ‘noctua’ ! tumblrs been acting weird, so i hope it lets me post the whole thing. letters are in italics. also please note, this is off the movies timeline! i tried to fit in as many details as possible but some didn’t make it.

the town was widespread. wineries and mountains everywhere, the okanagan lake splitting it down the middle, reconnecting the cities halves by a bridge. little snow and tons of rain. jeep wranglers in every colour roaring around into unholy hours of the night, bustling with life yet all to lonely at times. but hey, that’s kelowna for you.

rain was running down the windows of y/ns most boring class, last period biology. she knew she should be paying attention. she had a high gpa to maintain, and couldn’t afford to fail another class besides french. the last five minutes of blabbering ended after what felt like a year.

‘you are dismissed, ill see you all monday, have a good weekend’ and with that everyone rose, heading to the parking lot as fast as possible in an attemp to dodge traffic. despite pouring rain, the air was hot, and on the ride home y/ns mind raced over every single assignment she had to complete over the next two days, while her hands tapped the steering wheel.

‘english essay, math review, history paper, business management graph’ she muttered under her breath. the town was busy, many students often blew off class to go shopping, or hit a movie, or smoke weed, the possibilities were endless. her house was cool compared to outside, and empty. no one was home, not that it was a surprise to the girl, people weren’t usually home, siblings gone to university, and parents working absurd amounts.

something caught her eye on the counter, an envelope, an ordinary seeming one, but absolutely covered in small pictured stamps with ‘england’ underneath each one. eighteen of them, all different. she knew shouldn’t open it, so she didn’t. at first. but it was irresistible. there was a return address written in the smallest writing she’d ever seen. wogshell, no, wiltshire? she took it to her room, and locked the door before ripping it open. she didn’t want the one time she had something intresting going on to be interrupted by whoever might show up.

her mouth fell open at every line of the same scroll. who was snape? why was this draco boy sending him a letter? he didn’t need his help to kill who? what the fuck was an unbreakable vow and why shouldn’t snape sign it? why was his mum going to see snape? who was the dark lord and why did he pick draco for a task? what kind of name is dumbledore?

what she already knew was confirmed- this letter was most definetly not for her. but newly- she opened a letter from a potential murderer or maybe it was a prank, a sick prank if it was one.

so instead she crafted up quite the response, whoever wrote this was either hysterical or in distress, and needed some sort of company- she thought, atleast.

it had been thirteen days, why wasn’t the letter back yet? the owl still couldn’t fly even about the house without damaging itself further. maybe using the muggle post system was a mistake. but better have it land into the hands of a muggle, who would likely throw it out, than a wizard who would know a death eater would soon be wondering around hogwarts.

as if on que, the door bell rang and echoed through the empty manor. on the porch sat an envelope, with only one stamp, his name in the middle and another he didn’t recognize in the corner. shit, this couldn’t be good. his eye caught the stamp. canada? fuck, this was supposed to go to cokeworth not bloody canada. no one was home so he opened it right there in the foyer.

hello, draco.

i am not snape- nor do i know who snape is. i am also very unfimilar with some of the vocabulary you used. dark lord? unbreakable vow? you seem to have quite the situation going on, if i read correctly. im not exactly stupid, but i do know that this letter was most definitely not supposed to be in my possession. i didn’t know who to send it to, id send it back to you, but you probably don’t want a copy of your own letter. i also know you likely have enough on your plate, but if you’d like someone to talk to im only half a world away, have no sort of schedule and am a good listener, well reader in this case. good luck with whatever task you’ve mentioned. p.s. you had about seventeen stamps to many, first time sending a letter? unfortunate fate, huh ? what kind of name is snape and what the heck is a dumbledore? i suppose it’s none of my business, knowing you likely won’t respond, but if you do i wrote my address on the front. have a good day/ night/ whatever time it is wherever you are.

y/n l/n

tears were welling in dracos eyes, he was floored, in a good and bad way. his task was already going downhill. the letter he sent snape had fallen into the hands of a muggle, who did not throw the letter away, but responded. and snape was likely going to bine himself into the task through the unbreakable vow, which draco was more than able to complete. he wouldn’t have been chosen if he wasn’t, right?

not only had she responded, she offered him help, well distant company, to a stranger who obviously had quite a few problems and she clearly had no regard for her own safety. he couldn’t tell her about the wizarding world. not that he could tell her about anything, she could be lying. he had a task to focus on, he couldn’t write her back.

and that was true- at the time. he had no intent of writing the girl back. and yet he found himself reading the 201 words over and over, running his hands across the paper, expecting them to fade away as he wiped. counting and recounting. he surely couldn’t talk to any of the twats at hogwarts, maybe a stranger could help numb the pain. and as long as he didn’t tell anyone- she couldn’t get hurt, she was to far.

draco was packed for hogwarts, the response at the bottom of the trunk, underneath his clothes. he’d just have to get to the damn school, then he could write all he wanted- without his parents knowledge or ridicule. his mind jumbled together what he was going to say while his friends rambled on. the train pulled up to the castle after dreadful hours and he could barely sit still during the opening feast. his thoughts did falter though, when dumbledore gave his speech, he felt guilty- the shame of his family weighing on his shoulders. he looked around, all his classmates staring in adoration at a man who would be dead ten months from now, and they were sitting in the same room as his killer.

the singular room was nice, he knew it wasn’t for lounge, but for plots of death.

before he began he started making promises to himself. if i get behind on the plan ill won’t write, if snape notices anything about it, ill stop. the list went on and on.

he couldn’t put his pen down, the words continued to fly out the end, was he oversharing?

dear y/n

my deepest apologies that my last letter found it’s way to you. im sure you didn’t expect whatever you may have perceived from it. honestly, i don’t know how it arrived all the way over there. im almost positive you have better things to do than listen to my problems, and i know you had no control over the fact it arrived, but i ask you to please not share this information with anyone. i am unsure if i will take up your offer of amity, if you were serious that is. im at school now, so if you’d like to respond, not that you have to- you can send letters back with my owl, it’ll be faster (and i won’t have to worry about stamps- thanks for the tip by the way)

draco malfoy

and with that noctua was off into the night, and he could only hope that it would make it to her.

droll was running down y/ns chin and she was caught in a dream. suddenly a vigorous tapping on the window pulled her into consciousness, the sight of owl knocking her backwards in a scare. a crash sounded, if the tapping didn’t wake anyone up, that surely did. she almost considered just trying to ignore it, until she noticed a letter tied to its neck and reluctantly opened the window. she’d never seen an owl in real life before, but was aware from school that they weren’t exactly the kindest of creatures. this one just perched on the window while she removed the new enevelope, no stamps in sight. just a neatly printed address, and his in the corner.

from the new letter she learned even more- this wasn’t a prank, draco was a real person, was still in school, and whatever the first misplaced letter contained was true. he had some sort of task and didnt want help, but that was all. so with what she could, she wrote another response. it took an hour and she wasn’t exactly sure what she had written by mid morning.

draco

you’d be quite suprised actually, it gets lonely over here. i still haven’t exactly deciphered your original note, so if you would like to help me understand i think i’d be ready. and no worries about me, my lips are sealed. what is an unbreakable vow, im curious? you go to boarding school? and owls, really? what the hell is up with that? im pretty sure it’s illegal to own one here, but we are countries away, so perhaps it’s different all the way over there. send whatever you want. i do not- by the way- have anything better to do in the slightest.

y/n

he continued to write throughout the month of september, which bled into october before he knew it. he was avoiding questions about the task, just wanting someone to talk to. it wasn’t easy, she was curious, which draco couldn’t exactly be mad at her for that since he continued to write her, accepting the distant friendship that was forming.

he was learning a lot about her aswell. besides french, which he informed her he spoke fluently numerous times, she was a very good student. she was single, he didn’t remember how that came up but made a note in his mind- he couldn’t date her, nor did he know enough about her to be properly involved.

she read a lot of books, sappy romances mostly, couldn’t cook anything deemed edible by anyone, and her favourite colour was green, he smirked when reading that for the first time. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future, just not a doctor like her parents wanted.

y/n was sitting in english as her teacher reviewed about univeristy application requirements. only next year they would be getting accepted and denied from their dream schools. she’d spent years dreaming of it, university, and yet somehow a boy half way around the was racing through her mind. she felt horrible about it, the small crush. it was incredibly selfish, falling for a boy with so much going on, he certainly didn’t need her as anything more than a friend to talk to, but he was good with his words, and making her feel important too. her dismissal came and so did a classmate, approaching confident and cocky.

‘hey, l/n’ he said, a smirk on his face

‘oh, uh hey, will’

‘what are doing tonight?’ her mind went blank, any excuse, come on, say something

‘i have plans’ wow real specific, great job, y/n

‘like what’

‘fish funeral, real important stuff, my family is just devastated’ her voice was clearly sarcastic and that was all before she walked right out. no she didn’t exactly have plans, but waiting for dracos owl provided much more company than any date could have. the sight of dracos owl flying towards the pre-opened window was somewhat relieving, she didn’t know why, just the fact that he had not failed yet, and was still out there was nice. she hadn’t had this much company. since last year at least, when her supposed best friend started ghosting her because of some petty shit.

thankfully noctua ad gotten quite good at being discreet when delivering the letters. of all the things on y/ns junior year bucket list, explaining to her parents that she had befriended a british boy with an owl who flyed into her room while her neighbours had a clear view, wasn’t one. she also began keeping a bowl of water under her bed for the owl to drink when it arrived, knowing it couldn’t have been easy travelling back and forth.

y/n

im not fully sure you want to know the depth, yet you seem to want me to corrupt you with my villain with a task baggage. i suppose it couldn’t hurt if i told you about the unbreakable vow. it’s like a promise or a bond, but if you break it then you die. if you can stomach that i may be able to tell you more. how far away do you reckon we are?

draco

draco wasn’t falling behind too far, but his first attemp had failed, and panic attacks were taking up most his time. he never had any, at least not this bad until this year. at least once a day he would start sweating, no matter how cold he was, unable to control his breathing or tears, feeling like the walls were caving in upon him.

that is, besides writing y/n as much as he could. apparently she was being honest, she had no schedule of any sort besides going to school. he hated to say, but he was becoming attached, he didn’t exactly know how either, but everytime he recieved a letter a small weight was lifted from his shoulders, even just when he read it.

noctua was doing the weekly, almost daily round at breakfast with the other owls and draco watched with anticipation as a letter dropped on his lap and owl on his shoulder. he tried to conceal the letter into his robes but pansy had taken matters into her own hands. likely jealous that she’d spent collectively around six hours with him the whole year, and he never talked to her like he used to.

‘ou draco whats this’ twirling the envelope between her hands. the letter had no name, no stamp, only a small heart drawing in the corner.

‘hands off parkinson’ he said while taking the letter back. ‘a letter from my mother, if you must know’ he said knowing that neither his mother or father had written him anything, despite having all the time to do so.

he got up and left the second he was done, not wanting to draw snapes suspicion about who could possibly be more important than working on this task.

he rushed to his room, desperate for more of her words. he tried to picture her voice in his head, but had to remind himself she wasn’t british nor was she from southern america.

draco,

so you just die if you break the promise? intresting. it’s not as hard to stomach as you seem to think, very unique tradition i suppose. you are not a villain draco, you haven’t told me much about it but your to good of a person to have picked any of this for yourself. i calculated when we you were home, seven thousand three hundred something, i don’t know where your fancy boarding school where you have owls for pets is, so it may be further. im ready whenever you are.

y/n

her letter was relieving for him aswell, even in the slightest it helped, but she deserved some sort of answer for helping him take his mind off the task for a couple minutes. he could tell if she wasn’t scared off already, this would do it.

y/n

if you are sure, here it is. dumbledore is my headmaster, the dark lord is a very powerful wizard, and snape is my professor. if i don’t kill dumbledore before july, he will kill me and my family, if i can’t complete the task, snape will kill him under terms of an unbreakable vow. im not a very good villain that’s for sure, my first attemp failed, and my classmate is out cold. i understand if you dont want to write to me anymore, just don’t tell anyone about this, please.

dm.

the only words to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her senses as she read were devastation and shock. tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to imagine herself with that much responsibility to wildhold until july. another detail that caught her eye, wizard? what did he mean by wizard? is that the word for dictator in england? certainly he wasn’t talking about the wizards she read about in storybooks as a child. her hand shook slightly and she debated mentioning it.

draco

you’re silly if you think i’d stop writing you. you need company now more than ever. please don’t hold things back from your letters, you deserve someone to talk to. that is quite the situation, im sorry if i pushed you, you do have enough on your shoulders and i want to help you as much as i can. i hate to ask, but you mentioned ‘wizards’ and i am a bit confused.

all my love

initially, draco went into shock. he knew he was probably oversharing, but didn’t expect to slip up in that way. he begrudgingly admitted; knowing that if this went badly he would likely be banished from the wizarding world, which didn’t seem like such a horrible punishment to him anymore. and yet she was fascinated, by the coins he sent her, the subjects he learned- which she compared to her own much less exciting ones, and everything he told her about it. he could now talk to her about much more, since both his secrets were now out in the open to her. he told her about the about the houses, and they both agreed she would probably be in hufflepuff, well he thought so, her kind and accepting nature, and she didn’t know enough to disagree. and for the first time in the long time he was seeing things differently, completely diminishing the rude behaviour he often displayed towards the house.

she even sent him a picture, the first time he ever saw her face. a large smile spread across her beautiful features, she seemed to be laughing. eyes glistening in the sun even prettier than he could have imagined. he slept with it under his pillow, and could stare at the still image for hours. no it didn’t move around, but he couldnt care less. he only had one picture of himself in his possession and he was young, about four. she was facinated by the moving image, his blonde hair and attitude shining right through. he would owl his mother for a more recent one, but didn’t want to explain why.

the letters were helping him, but the task wasn’t advancing. his second attempt had failed, he was caught sneaking into slughorns party, and harry was onto him. they were also causing him doubt. say they did get the cabinet fixed, he couldn’t see himself killing dumbledore anymore, the more he talked to her he realized he couldn’t be a killer, as cold as he was to some people, but he had to, didnt he?

most importantly every letter she sent gave him a sense of hope. that the second this is over he could move. away from voldemort, and potter, his parents even, england in whole. perhaps not to canada, but it could be a change, half way across the world with the girl who was helping him stay alive through his letters. he just needed to stay alive long enough too see her.

the seasons changed around draco, but his room stayed the same. hot from mysterious potions, for himself and some for dumbledore, he had not had much hope after the wine, though. it was lonely, not that he’d like y/n here, he’d much rather be there, all the way across the world.

may came in a blur, and finals were creeping up. one week y/n sat at her desk, every night, waiting for a letter that didn’t come. on the fifth letterless day she cried. not exactly knowing why, it wasn’t her that had much of a reason to cry, but dracos company had filled her lonely life up with light of its own, leaving it darker than it was before she saw the first letter. she was silly to be so attached and silly to expect him to reciprocate the feelings she had proclaimed in the last one she sent, and should have expected him to stop eventually. so she continued on with school, finding it a bit easier to concentrate now that a draco sized whole was missing from her brain, and her heart aswell.

the next week, though, a letter came, very appreciated by y/n as the whole other universe, british boy forgetting thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

y/n

im sorry for not writing, the classmate i mentioned all those months ago woke from the curse, and the potter twat hexed me with a spell id never heard of before. i would have tried to contact with you but i couldn’t exactly trust what my brain was planning on writing, and the cuts are still a bit sore. the cabinets fixed, but even if everything works out okay i won’t be writing very much at all. i’ll be home in july, but the manor will be infested with death eaters and i can’t let you get hurt. thank you for everything l/n.

draco

it stung a little, knowing that the empty feeling the girl just experienced would be more frequent, he didn’t mention anything about what she had said, and that this could be the last time she ever heard from him if he didn’t kill dumbledore. in hindsight, practically telling her she loved him in a letter wasn’t what he needed, she knew that.

he left out the fact that he the spell put a him in a huge emotinal draught. he was exhausted constantly, crying even more than before. the cuts were sore, so he wasn’t holding everything back.

the last month of school came and went all to fast for dracos liking, and death eaters now roamed around the castle, causing havoc where ever they could. his trunk had been shurken so small it looked like a small muggle toy he put into his pocket easily. the dark mark that was stretched across his left arm was now hanging in the gray sky, and the headmaster was no where to be seen. he paced anxiously around a vacant corridor until he heard a pop in the astronomy tower. he didn’t think people could apparate into hogwarts, it would have made his job much easier.

‘harry, get snape, i need snape now’ he seemed exhausted, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard

‘sir im going to sit you down okay, and then ill go get madam pomf-‘

‘severus, harry, I need severus now, go get him and talk to no one else’ he said in a shallow yet somewhat urgent and angry tone.

draco waited for footsteps to disappear, before whipping the door open with his wand already ready.

‘oh hello, draco, nice to see you on this fine evening’ he said nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall.

‘EXPELLIARMUS’ draco boomed, successfully disarming the man without counter attempts before glancing around to see a second broom

‘who else is here?’ he said sounding confident but feeling the opposite

‘i could ask you the same question, acting alone are you? you don’t seem supported’

‘no, there are death eaters in your school tonight, and i got them here’ he snarked ‘they’ll be up, any minute now, their fighting down below. i’ve got a job to do’

‘well done boy, if you don’t mind me asking a few questions, before you get on with it, im very intrested’ was he kidding? he knew draco was about to kill him right? wanting to stall, and not fully wanting to kill him he nodded his head yes.

‘you seem scared to act until they join you

‘im not scared, you should be scared’ he snarled, unable to contain the fear in his voice any longer any longer

‘oh draco’ he sighed ‘while we wait for your friends arrive, care to explain how you smuggled them in here? i never imagined it possible, especially not by a student’

‘i had to mend the broken cabinet that no ones used for years, there’s another one in borgin and burkes. montague got stuck in told everyone stories about it, how he could sometimes hear what was going on in the shop and sometimes hear hogwarts like a passage, and i was the only one who discovered what it meant. not even borgin, not you either, i did it right under your nose, you didn’t realize anything’ he said

‘you are right, i didn’t know that. i do- on the other hand, know that you aren’t a killer’

he raised his wand a little higher, feeling wheezy and as though his legs would give in any second

‘how you know that, I’ve done despicable things, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom’

it was dumbledore’s time to pause, glancing up at the sky and looking around the room before continuing

‘draco i know you almost killed katie bell and ron weasley. you’ve been trying to kill me all year, forgive me for saying this, but they’ve been very feeble attempts. to be honest ive wondered wheather your heart has truly been in it’

‘it has, and if you knew why didnt you stop me’

‘snape has been watching over you on my orders’

‘ it’s not on your orders, he promised my mother-‘

‘ofcourse he would tell you that, but it happens to be that i trust professor snape’

‘your losing it then, he’s a double agent, he isn’t working for you- he’s been trying to get in on the action all year, helping me and all. doesn’t matter now- he probably doesn’t even know they are here yet, he will wake up tomorrow and no longer be the dark lords favourite, he will be nothing compare to me’ confidence was building within him

‘very gratifying, we all like being recognized for our hard work, but, draco?im standing here wandless and weak, unable to defend myself, and you have not made any move to kill me, dont blame me for believing you will not, but let’s discuss your options’

‘my options’ he laughed ‘im standing here with a wand, about to kill you’

‘oh dear boy, if you were going to kill me you would have when you disarmed me, not stayed for a little chat’

‘i haven’t got any options, don’t you understand, i have to kill you, or he will kill me’

‘okay, if you don’t want to join the order with your mother where we could protect you, i only have one more question’

‘better hurry, theyre on their way’ he almost laughed which was quickly replaced when Dumbledore said his next words.

‘who is y/n l/n’ at that a tear fell down dracos face, and he lowered his wand almost completely

‘i-i don’t know who that is, odd l-last words’ he stuttered

‘draco dont play dumb now, not after we discovered you are very intelligent. we left some of the security measures from last year that Umbridge enabled, and I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of letters flowing to and from her. i looked into student files, ilvermornies too, nothing, id never heard the name, a muggle i presumed. but of all the things, that had me the most confused. i couldn’t figure out why you would be contacting her, so i did some meddling’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO’

‘fiesty all the sudden, are you? i felt bad after opening this, it seemed very personal, and i probably should given it too you sooner, but i was a bit preoccupied double checking my drinks and all’ dumbledore said handing him the letter.

draco

how is the cabinet coming? it’s raining even more here than usual, all day and night. and don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. you are just a kid, you shouldn’t be forced to be a hero. you are protecting so many people right now, but i don’t need any. you have given my life enough light in the last few months than i ever recall, and im so thankful that letter came to me. i wish you were here with me right now, but i know you can’t be, so just stay alive, okay?

y/n

more tears fell, he hated being so weak at the mention of her, crying before he completed the blessing his father and bellatrix considered the task to be.

‘she’s right, draco, you deserve another chance’

he was speechless, and could tell Dumbledore knew he found his weakness.

‘i always pictured you and pansy, never in a million years imagined you to be in a relationship with a muggle’

‘no matter who does it, your about to be killed, and im not here to discuss my love life am i?’

‘so you do love her?’ before draco could even think he heard a door open and raised his wand, hiding the letter faster than he had ever moved.

‘shut up, they will kill her’ he said quietly and desperately

in walked fenrir greyback, yaxley, and bellatrix. they made banter of their own, but her words replayed. he couldn’t do it.

‘go on draco’ his aunt whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

‘DO IT, DO IT BOY’ she yelled, in a high pitched and annoying voice

he felt a strong arm over his chest, pushing him aside, and he saw the whoosh of snapes robes and an already pleading dumbledore

‘severus, please’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’ snape shouted, a green flash producing from the end of his wand, hitting the old man square in the chest. draco rushed over to the edge, watching him fall. it was a long way down.

the rain had sudsided, sunlight leaking into her room during the day. watching the sky at night, failing to find constellations he described many times to her. her wardrobe was mostly untouched, remaining in pyjamas most of the week. the odd time she did leave, she saw her old friends walking and laughing out her car window. eating and socializing felt like a chore, and she hadn’t communicated with the boy since may. he could be dead, she didn’t know. there was no death on the ‘muggle’ news, and draco wasn’t on the top wanted list, not that he likely would be on the television all the way over here. he could be fine, in wiltshire, going to dinner parties and holding balls. or maybe, he too, was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling for days on end. she had now hung the picture of a young draco by her desk, not needing to worry about anyone seeing. her siblings were once again home, but out living their lives so much that it still felt like they were gone. for the first time she noticed his scroll on the back.

‘i was four when this was taken i believe, my hair is very similar, i was quite sassy, im sure that shows without explanation.’ she blushed while reading, it was true. his hands were on his hips whipping his head around.

every day was a surprise around malfoy manor. not the kind of surprise draco liked. not the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he read y/ns letters, those were replaced by a pit as they were summoned around the large table in the dining room. the first one he attended was horrible, watching his muggle studies teacher being hung above their heads, pleading for the help of severus as she died. he bit his tongue in an attempt to avoid raging about about every comment surrounding muggle culture. each one tore his heart, as he imagined the girl all those kilometres away, the girl he had no contact with, but he looked at her picture as much as possible, and hoped one day he could make her smile again like she did in the image.

senior year was here, and y/n schedule picked up once again. her timetable was full, maybe it was best, a distraction, after a whole summer of thinking alone in her room. draco was on her mind at night, no matter how hard she tried to forget. she’d made friends with her creative promotions partner, logan. he was certainly not intrested in her in anyway besides friends, but company after all this time was enjoyable, just in the hour of class

draco had little privacy, with death eaters in every hallway, conversing with eachother. wherever he went someone was there, until he finally got sick of it and began going to the garden bench. with a book, sometimes, giving some of the sappy love stories y/n mentioned a try or even the poetry books she sent with noctua awhile back, they were okay, but his heart hurt at the feeling of relation in every line. he could only read one or two poems at a time, without tears forming in his green orbs.

sometimes he went with a pen and a notebook. he wrote about everything. the smell of the plants around him, the feeling in his chest when the dark lord called for a meeting. most of the notebook, though, was filled with poems of his own. and letters he had no intention of sending for her own safety. she wasn’t in harms way, though, other followers were preoccupied with ruining weddings and other things they considered fun. he blabbered on for pages, about how he missed seeing noctua fluttering towards him at breakfast. how he rereads the letter that dumbledore gave him the night he died. how she listened to him rant on and on, giving her support no matter how evil he felt. how he found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

snow was falling once again, he had to dress in layers, making it hard to write often, the plants started dying as cold settled over and his mother no longer babied him like she used to before the death eaters began inhabiting the mansion. he couldn’t keep himself company any longer and gave into the pressure he put on himself. as long as they were careful, she’d be in no destruction- he prayed as he wrote what seemed to be an appropriate response after all this time.

like it had been decades, she flinched at the noise of the owl on the window, carrying a much larger scroll that he’d ever sent before, some parts scratched out and written above. his writing was much less tidy than she remembered, like the letters on the page were anxious for her reaction.

love,

after all this time, im sorry you are just now hearing from me. you have ever single right to be annoyed with me, after you listened to me for months, helping me emotionally in ways i never be able to repay you for. you do not need to forgive me, or write me back. i just wanted to keep you safe. but i needed to tell you everything before it might actually be to late. you’ve probably moved on and forgotten about me, like you should, but i guess im saying that i am alive. i didn’t kill him either. snape did. i thought i was going to be able to, but he started talking about you. he gave me a letter from you that he had already opened, the words repeated in my head over and over. you talked about how i deserved another chance, and how you wish I’d was there with you. right before he died he asked me if i loved you. i knew the answer but didn’t have time to say it. ive read your poetry books, they aren’t as bad as i once thought, i can’t read to many at once. i try to forget what dumbledore said that night, and that night altogether. but one day i read ‘that’s how you know you love someone, i guess. when you cant experience anything without wishing the other person was there to see it too.’ when i sit in the garden i imagine you smelling the flowers, myself picking one and putting it behind your ear. when i go on walks i imagine your hand in mine. youre in my dreams. my never ending thought. i remember the way i felt when we started talking a lot, and how I felt when we didn’t get a chance. you listened to me when no one else offered. not even my parents. i hope your doing okay, and smiling and laughing. i don’t care if we talk about absolutely nothing, i just want to talk to you. i know that’s unfair to you after all ive weighed on you. but i guess that’s all, i love you. draco ♡

well this certainly didn’t get him off her mind. she didn’t need to either. ofcourse she was going to write him back, but she needed time to think about her response. she missed the next day of school, and his owl was comfortably standing on her desk, nibbling away at the water and crumbs. she took an hour long shower, multiple naps, raided her fridge, and had to email the school pretending to be her mum, excusing her for the day. before she even knew what she was going to write, she began on a new piece of paper. she’d have thought longer, but was sure draco would be convinced she stole noctua out of anger.

draco,

wow. i don’t really know what to say. i knew you weren’t a killer, and i meant what i said about you deserving more chances. i will admit i was angry, and a bit confused. i sent that letter with high hopes. i don’t know what i was hoping for at the time, i was being incredibly selfish. but couldn’t help myself feel pained when you didn’t mention it in the next letter when you said harry hexed you. i know we can’t be together, especially not right now, but i love you too. i wish more than anything you were here with me right now, and it was you i’d be graduating with half a year from now. i wish you were in the passenger seat of my car while i drive through the city. i wish you could point out the constellations in the sky. i usually can’t read to many poems either, they get me thinking to much. im ready to write again if you are.

y/n

draco hadn’t felt more joy in a long time. around seven months. she loved him, and that was enough happiness for a life time. he just needed to stay alive.

they continued to stay in touch, almost as if they never stopped talking, entertaining eachother as much as possible, masking their separate misery and the distance between them. he could get time away from the reality that was his life for a while, he thought, until snatchers brought the trio he spent so long bickering with to the manor.

a very distorted looking harry fell before him, his hair tightly gripped by bellatrix.

‘well, is it him’ he knew it was harry. and yet a part of him couldn’t bring himself to letting the boy get killed.

‘i can’t be sure’ he lied

‘draco, look closely son’ lucius said loudly, getting a grip on the back of dracos neck before leaning in and whispering.

‘if we are the ones that hand potter to the dark lord, all will be f-forgiven. a-all will go back to how it was’

his father and the and a snatcher quickly got into an arguement. lucius was yelling something about the manor before narcissa calmed him with a hiss.

‘don’t be shy, sweetie come here take a closer look’

draco was know level with him. the scar was still visible on his forehead, and swollen eyes staring back at him, hopeless.

‘what’s wrong with his face’ draco said

‘yes what is wrong with the boys face’ a shrill voice repeated

‘he was like that when we got him, something he picked up in the forest i reckon’

bellatrix walked away, laughing away at something. the blonde boys eyes were still on harry, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. bellatrix began acting out, yelling about a sword, putting ropes around snatchers neck from the end of her wand. sword now in her hand she walked over to ronald weasley, grabbing his collar and demanding that the boys be put in the cellar.

a different draco would have gladly watched a mudblood be tortured by his aunt. but he flinched at every scream of hermione, unable to watch he went to the next room, resisting tears as he thought of the girl he fell for enduring the same. she had moved onto the goblin- ridiculing it about who got into her vault- and hermiones screams were now gone.

‘youre lucky, goblin, the same won’t go for this one’ he heard footsteps

‘like hell it wont’ he heard ron yell, followed by the expelliarmus and what must have been harry stupefying his father. draco rushed in, now dueling a more normal looking harry, until their attention caught on bellatrix, a knife to grangers throat. they dropped there wands, and he did as instructed, picking them up. lucius was summoning the dark lord when they heard a tittering on the ceiling, and the chandlier crashing. it all moved so fast and harry was now wrestling draco for his wand back. he tried, but harry had already pried it out of his cold and shaky hands.

‘STUPID ELF. THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME’

‘dobby never meant to kill. dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure’ the house elf squeaked, and draco had never resisted a chuckle so hard.

‘HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WITCHES WAND. HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS’

‘dobby has no master, dobby is a free elf, and he has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.’ and with that they apparated out, not without bella throwing a knife into the mix.

meanwhile, y/n was receiving letters of her own. not from draco either. letters from the schools she applied to. so far everything was good, except for princeton, but she didn’t have the highest expectations. she was accepted to the university of british columbia, seattle university, even ucla. she only had one letter left, and the large stuffed yellow envelope sat in her hands. she wasn’t sure about it- would she even be able to go to the univeristy of london? it was far, but draco was there, well closer to there atleast. accepted- it read. it was an option, and she still had weeks to think about it.

draco was very hesitant to write after the incident at the manor, the screams of Hermione, and the terrifying looking potter still vivid in his brain and nightmares. he often woke from sleep in a sweat, yet freezing cold. whispers of the war around his house also haunted his mind and soul. he’d walk to the window and look up at the the stars, they were under the same sky, at least. eventually he had to write her, it had been half a month and he couldn’t leave her hanging alone again.

y/n

love, im sorry for being hesitant, but there is going to be a war. i hate to leave you contact-less, but i need you to be safe now more than ever. i couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. potter and his friends were brought here to the manor, it didn’t last long- they escaped within the hour and a half. with that doped elf, and a goblin too. if you don’t hear from me again, remember i love you. and always will.

draco

of all the letters y/n had recieved, from draco in all, that was probably the most displeasing. a war? like with tanks and bombs? tears were shedding down her face as she wrote the shortest response yet. knowing he most definitely didn’t have time to listen to her talk about schools, and how she got accepted to london, but her parents deemed it to far, ubc would have to do, she’d find her way to him eventually, if they were meant to be.

draco

stay safe, i love you.

yn.

draco now stood at snapes new office, dozens of corpses on the floor, pooled in blood. the dark lord speaking parsel tounge to nagini. no one needed to speak it to know that the man was infuriated about something potter had done.

the information he left was lacking, was he serious? what did wizarding wars even look like? her graduation date was set, June 6th, but it all seemed irrelevant, suddenly picking out a dress didn’t seem as fun as she thought, same with getting portraits taken. should she have said more?

next thing he knew the protection spell was countered and he apparated in, grabbing zabani and goyle by the collar. rushing them into a corridor and waited for the door of the room of requirement to completely vanish before approaching himself. they successfully found harry, opening a box carefully before finally drawing attention to themselves.

‘well well, what brings you here, potter’ draco said, softly, much to his surprise as he meant it to sound snarky and rude

‘i could ask you the same’

‘i believe you have something of mine, and id like it back’ was he becoming… kind?

‘whats wrong with the one you have?’ harry replied

‘it’s my mothers, powerful but different, doesn’t fully understand me, im sure you know the feeling’

‘why didn’t you tell her. bellatrix? you knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her’ he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, nor did he know. harry really didn’t have anything to do with his feelings for y/n, maybe he should have just turned in him when he had the chance, it would all be over if he had.

‘don’t be a wuss draco, just do it now’ goyle whispered in his ear, making him chill the same way bellatrix did on the astronomy tower, almost a year ago.

‘expelliarmus’ hermione half shouted, causing narcissas want to fly out of dracos hands and run the other way.

‘avada kedavra’ goyle missed and weaslebee started chasing after them, yelling something about his girlfriend. turning back around after goyle unsuccessfully casted the fiendfyre curse.

fear was making his body almost rattle as he desperately climbed bookcases in an attemp to outrun the flames. he watched goyle fall, into the orange. yes, he was a complete and utter twat, but wasn’t a half bad friend during dracos bullying peek. his foot slipped, now just his hands were keeping him up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. in the distance he saw the three, zooming off to safety in the distance, leaving them their to die. not that he blamed them, after anything he did to them, he would have probably left himself there aswell.

but potter was flying towards him, arm out-stretched, grabbing onto his own and hoisting himself on the broom. had he already died? must not have, because the heat had finally caughten up. feeling as though he was going to pass out, he gripped tighter onto harry, maintaining his position on the broom. so much for staying safe. the second they made it out, they crashed onto the ground. he wanted to thank harry, but found himself running off instead.

explosions and hexes were being sent everywhere. people dying left and right. giants and trolls and spiders helping, he found himself in the slytherin common room. partially because he wanted to say goodbye, as he never wished to return to the building again once he had the choice. and partially as he was now aware of a large burn on his arm, and he felt a need to put off fighting until absolutely necessary. he entered through the portrait, for the last time. it felt like an aquarium, looking out upon the lake filled windows, merpeople and the giant squid often zooming by. he sat down upon the sofa, where he spent countless hours avoiding homework, plotting against potter and swimming in lust of his pure-blood status that now felt like a curse. he went up to his dorm, where he did very similar things. he wondered as to what he would be doing if he was a muggle right now. picking out a suit for graduation, buying a corsage for his date, but he wasn’t, so he best get going. running his hands along the furniture before leaving, not looking back.

the noise in the entrance courtyard had completely been diminished and draco found his way into the crowd of students pooling in. death eaters swarmed towards them at a painfully slow place, his mother and father near the head of the group. he noticed hagrid, towering above them, carrying what could only have been harrys corpse.

he watched carefully as they approached, trying to wedge himself inbetween and behind other students.

‘harry potter is dead’ voldemort paused ‘from now on, you put your faith in me’ silence fell over the hundreds of people who were know gathered. he swished his robes and turned backwards facing his followers

‘HARRY POTTER IS DEAD’ obnoxious and deafening cackles erupted

‘and now is the time to declare yourselves. come to our side, or die’ even more silence fell.

‘draco’ his father hissed before repeating ‘draco’

he felt eyes fall all over him, gazing expectantly. tears ran down his face.

don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. was this what she meant? he’d been looking for another chance, maybe this was it.

he shook his head no, and noticed his father had fallen a shade of pale he didn’t know existed.

‘Draco, DRACO’ he yelled, clearly enranged, but before he could continue - a movement shifted in hagrids arms, and harry fell out. in a heartbeat draco threw his wand to the scar faced boy. he caught it, looking grateful as he could while casting some sort of spell at nagini. death eaters were disappearing into the air- including lucius, narcissa being dragged with him.

draco didn’t know what to do with himself, he was wandless and he couldn’t fight, unless he wanted to engage in an actual physical duel, which he didn’t. he found himself in the great hall, asking professor sprout if she needed help patching those up, she pulled him into a hug, unexpectantly. he never recalled such contact or connection with a professor. he spent the rest of the battle helping healing wounds with dittany, and caring for those left in the wake. it was a nice distraction from the fact he would most definitely be disowned, left a family-less orphan at 17.

y/n couldn’t blame him for not writing, he clearly stated that it might be the last time. but every night she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, or until she fell asleep. how could she like him so much? they’d never even met. she didnt really need to see him to know him, his letters told him enough about him. and she could only hope- that if he managed through his six year without killing his headmaster, he could make it through the war.

he delayed going back to the manor for as long as possible, until he decided to apparate directly into his room. he considered packing his things up, but realized no one was home. he was thankful, he don’t think he would ever be able to fully confront his parents again. he fell asleep in his bed, and slept for 48 hours straight. he slept through very vivid dreams, ones of y/n being tortured the same way as Hermione, ones of the dark lord coming alive once again and killing his mother because of his choices. he couldn’t bring himself to sleep again purposefully, no matter how exhausted he was. the days weren’t much better, his mind raced at unbelievable paces. he saw the dead bodies laying around the great hall, the unrecoverable ones. maybe he should have just fallen into the fire, surely that would have been easier. he was slowly becoming thinner, and always needed multiple blankets to even stay at a somewhat warm temperature, his heart beat faster than normal. he often felt pains in his neck, and his eyes were almost always puffy from crying. he spent so much time in bed he almost didn’t hear his owl flutter onto his nightstand mid afternoon, a small package tied loosely around his neck.

he opened it to see a letter, muggle candies and a worn book. suddenly he felt more awake, and be shot up a little to fast then he should have, sitting on the edge of his bed.

draco.

i don’t know where you are, or if youre alive, if youre reading this now. i hope this doesn’t arrive at a bad time. but your 18 now, so happy birthday. if you are seeing this, i still love you. i think about you all the time. i hope you are okay, and safe. in case you don’t end up writing me back, i just thought I’d give you some random information to keep you company and away from your mind. i graduate tomorrow. i look at your picture everyday. I remember what you once told me about following my dreams, so instead of medicine, im going to study literature and business next year. im staying in kelowna aswell for now, hoping maybe you’ll be able to visit someday. im sure you’d like it. my favourite colour is still green. i don’t know what else to say.

always here to listen if you’d like to talk. yn.

was it actually his birthday? had it already been a month since the war? it felt like a year but the visions played over and over like it was yesterday. it took him awhile before it clicked. the war was over, Voldemort was dead and there was no one to stop him from seeing her. he completely disregarded the lightheaded feeling he got when he stood up to fast- and rushed to his wardrobe. it took him a bit longer than he thought to pack up all his clothes, including the thousands of letters he kept hidden in a large drawer. the trunk was a bit heavier than he may have thought, and he ended up needing to take a car, in fear that he may not be able to apparate successfully to the airport without injuring himself. he quickly found out that muggle travelling was harder than he thought, and security and customs were also apparently a thing that all people needed to get through.

he wrapped himself in his cloak and didn’t get a drop of sleep the whole plane ride. it was nighttime when they flew over montreal, and then toronto. the sun rose as they crossed through winnipeg, regina, and calgary. he didn’t know this himself ofcourse, but he aggressively hit the map on the screen in front of him, desperate to know where he was. he only got an hour of half decent sleep before he felt rattling of the plane landing, and he gripped tightly onto the arm rests. he struggled for half an hour before he even got sight of his luggage on the moving thing that went round and round. compared to London, kelownas airport was very small and easy to navigate. the air outside was hot, making draco feel even more self concious about his clothing choices.

y/n put her hair back into a twist with a clip taking a suprising amount of effort to make sure it looked okay. her makeup was natural looking, nothing crazy but she looked gorgeous none the less. she slipped into her black romper, some canadians didn’t wear their fancy dresses to convocation, only something simple to go with the cap and gown. she arrived at the ceremony, seeing everyone, with excited smiles and laughs, conversing amongst themselves. and every memory came rushing back. they sat in rows on a stage, listening to the heartfelt and extremely cheesy speech the staff made every single year. she’d never noticed how many kids were in her age group until they were being called up one by one.

‘alex can’

‘ruth lee’

and the list went on and on until finally

‘y/n l/n’ the moment had come, and she shook everyone’s hand, receiving her diploma and flipping her caps tassel to the left. ‘y/n is staying around next year, and attending the university of british columbia okanogan, good luck l/n’ her principal said and claps continued like they had and the rest of the list finished sooner, or seemed to go by faster, she wasn’t sure.

draco had never had to find a taxi by himself, but once he did he gave the driver the only place he knew, the address he saw on the top corner of her first response almost two years ago.

y/n pulled away from the school grounds, watching them disappear in her rear view mirror. it was hot with a breeze, but she smiled the whole way home. she’d done it, made it through every assignment and class, dealt with attention hungry bitches, and crappy teachers. the next door was truly opening. pulling up to her house, and closing her car door as she hopped out, she watched her feet carry her up to the house. turning the corner, she saw him, sitting there on her steps, a present wrapped horribly in his hands, looking very out of place in his black cloak. she stopped in her own steps and he hesitantly stood up, before she launched herself into his arms breathing in his cologne, finally together after all this time.

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter x y/n #cedric diggory x reader

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glitterecs · 4 years

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Conservative towns/Secret relationship

🌾 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

Summary:

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

🌾 That's What I'm Here For by taggiecb

Summary:

Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

🌾 the dead things we carry by MediaWhore

Summary:

September ‘49 He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out.

This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,’ Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight.

This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

🌾 I’ll Be Here Waiting on Forever by sweaterpawstyles

Summary:

Harry made Louis feel like he was walking on air. He was beautiful in every way and it constantly amazed Louis. His eyes could melt Louis' heart at a single glance, his soft hands made Louis' heart race with a simple touch, and the words from his cherry red lips were so captivating that Louis held onto everything he said. There was a constant buzz in Louis' veins when Harry gave him that look, the look that spoke more than words ever could. It was a soft fond that Louis fell in love with so easily. Too easily.

Louis was in love with the boy he could never have and show off to the world. Or, A Romeo and Juliet AU where Louis is an alpha prince who falls in love with Harry, an omega prince from the neighboring kingdom

🌾 Through Lonely Streets and Neon Lights by sweetly_disposed

Summary:

1920's era, Great Gatsby inspired. Harry is a poor boy living in the South Village. Every night he watches the North City come alive and longs of crossing the river to be a part of it and escape his dreary life. The infamous Mr Tomlinson lives across the river from Harry. His parties are the stuff of legend; people on both sides know about them, and all Harry wants is a chance to go to one. When fate swings his way and he finds himself in Mr Tomlinson's house, he gets much more than he could ever have bargained for.

🌾 Blossoms in Barren Land by kassio

Summary:

Mr. Louis Tomlinson is a dutiful son to Lord and Lady Tomlinson, a caring older brother, and a beloved fixture of their village. He has always done what was expected of the Tomlinson heir.

An unexpected new resident fascinates Louis and awakens feelings that threaten to throw his perfectly-ordered life into chaos. Mr. Harry Styles, however, has plans of his own, and may not be what he seems...

🌾 and then he is the darkness by familysdisappointment

Summary:

No one in town knew where he came from nor who his parents were. Men swore Harry was the only one who could cure incurable diseases. Marriageable women claimed that Harry had the power to make men ask for their hand in marriage. Married men, jealous of the passions that the young gentleman awoke in their wives, used to spread the rumor that he knew about spells, magic, and enchantments.

or the Colonial Mexico Tale AU no one asked for.

🌾 Pray Till I Go Blind by el_em_en_oh_pee

Summary:

Louis is (kind of) a preacher. Harry is (probably) a demon. Of course, nothing's as simple as that.

This is not a love story.

🌾 threadbare by kiwikero

Summary:

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill.

He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

🌾 Break Me Down, Build Me Up by creamcoffeelou

Summary:

America, as it’s been told, is the world of riches. Men and women alike can come to the land of the free and achieve the American dream, regardless of their background. He wanted nothing more than to create a better life for his sisters, for himself, and perhaps for his future. Harry Styles was never a part of the plan.

[or: Louis moves his family to America to try and find a better life. Harry finds him instead.]

🌾 Embellish Your Heart by letsjustsee

Summary:

“You’re sort of a mystery, Harry Styles,” Louis says, and Harry looks surprised before he laughs loudly. “Am I?” Louis nods his head a little. “A very interesting, intriguing mystery.”

Or, a Bootlegger AU where it's 1925 in small town America, and Louis Tomlinson has never met anyone quite like Harry Styles.

🌾 Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore

Summary:

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

#fic rec #p:Larry #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry stylinson fic #larry fanfiction #folereslikes

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itrvlr · 3 years

Text

AN AMAZING STORY...

Here is an amazing story from a flight attendant on Delta Flight 15, written following 9-11

On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, we were about 5 hours out of Frankfurt, flying over the North Atlantic .

All of a sudden the curtains parted and I was told to go to the cockpit, immediately, to see the captain. As soon as I got there I noticed that the crew had that "All Business" look on their faces. The captain handed me a printed message. It was from Delta's main office in Atlanta and simply read, "All airways over the Continental United States are closed to commercial air traffic. Land ASAP at the nearest airport. Advise your destination."

No one said a word about what this could mean. We knew it was a serious situation and we needed to find terra firma quickly. The captain determined that the nearest airport was 400 miles behind us in Gander, New Foundland.

He requested approval for a route change from the Canadian traffic controller and approval was granted immediately -- no questions asked. We found out later, of course, why there was no hesitation in approving our request.

While the flight crew prepared the airplane for landing, another message arrived from Atlanta telling us about some terrorist activity in the New York area. A few minutes later word came in about the hijackings.

We decided to LIE to the passengers while we were still in the air. We told them the plane had a simple instrument problem and that we needed to land at the nearest airport in Gander , New Foundland, to have it checked out.

We promised to give more information after landing in Gander .. There was much grumbling among the passengers, but that's nothing new! Forty minutes later, we landed in Gander. Local time at Gander was 12:30 PM .... that's 11:00 AM EST.

There were already about 20 other airplanes on the ground from all over the world that had taken this detour on their way to the US.

After we parked on the ramp, the captain made the following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, you must be wondering if all these airplanes around us have the same instrument problem as we have. The reality is that we are here for another reason."

Then he went on to explain the little bit we knew about the situation in the US. There were loud gasps and stares of disbelief. The captain informed passengers that Ground control in Gander told us to stay put.

The Canadian Government was in charge of our situation and no one was allowed to get off the aircraft. No one on the ground was allowed to come near any of the air crafts. Only airport police would come around periodically, look us over and go on to the next airplane.

In the next hour or so more planes landed and Gander ended up with 53 airplanes from all over the world, 27 of which were US commercial jets.

Meanwhile, bits of news started to come in over the aircraft radio and for the first time we learned that airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center in New York and into the Pentagon in DC.

People were trying to use their cell phones, but were unable to connect due to a different cell system in Canada . Some did get through, but were only able to get to the Canadian operator who would tell them that the lines to the U.S. were either blocked or jammed.

Sometime in the evening the news filtered to us that the World Trade Center buildings had collapsed and that a fourth hijacking had resulted in a crash. By now the passengers were emotionally and physically exhausted, not to mention frightened, but everyone stayed amazingly calm.

We had only to look out the window at the 52 other stranded aircraft to realize that we were not the only ones in this predicament.

We had been told earlier that they would be allowing people off the planes one plane at a time. At 6 PM, Gander airport told us that our turn to deplane would be 11 am the next morning.

Passengers were not happy, but they simply resigned themselves to this news without much noise and started to prepare themselves to spend the night on the airplane.

Gander had promised us medical attention, if needed, water, and lavatory servicing.

And they were true to their word.

Fortunately we had no medical situations to worry about. We did have a young lady who was 33 weeks into her pregnancy. We took REALLY good care of her. The night passed without incident despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

About 10:30 on the morning of the 12th a convoy of school buses showed up. We got off the plane and were taken to the terminal where we went through Immigration and Customs and then had to register with the Red Cross.

After that we (the crew) were separated from the passengers and were taken in vans to a small hotel. We had no idea where our passengers were going. We learned from the Red Cross that the town of Gander has a population of 10,400 people and they had about 10,500 passengers to take care of from all the airplanes that were forced into Gander!

We were told to just relax at the hotel and we would be contacted when the US airports opened again, but not to expect that call for a while.

We found out the total scope of the terror back home only after getting to our hotel and turning on the TV, 24 hours after it all started.

Meanwhile, we had lots of time on our hands and found that the people of Gander were extremely friendly. They started calling us the "plane people." We enjoyed their hospitality, explored the town of Gander and ended up having a pretty good time.

Two days later, we got that call and were taken back to the Gander airport. Back on the plane, we were reunited with the passengers and found out what they had been doing for the past two days.

What we found out was incredible.....

Gander and all the surrounding communities (within about a 75 Kilometer radius) had closed all high schools, meeting halls, lodges, and any other large gathering places. They converted all these facilities to mass lodging areas for all the stranded travelers.

Some had cots set up, some had mats with sleeping bags and pillows set up.

ALL the high school students were required to volunteer theirtime to take care of the "guests."

Our 218 passengers ended up in a town called Lewisporte, about 45 kilometers from Gander where they were put up in a high school. If any women wanted to be in a women-only facility, that was arranged.

Families were kept together. All the elderly passengers were taken to private homes.

Remember that young pregnant lady? She was put up in a private home right across the street from a 24-hour Urgent Care facility.There was a dentist on call and both male and female nurses remained with the crowd for the duration.

Phone calls and e-mails to the U.S. and around the world were available to everyone once a day. During the day, passengers were offered "Excursion" trips.

Some people went on boat cruises of the lakes and harbors. Some went for hikes in the local forests.

Local bakeries stayed open to make fresh bread for the guests.

Food was prepared by all the residents and brought to the schools. People were driven to restaurants of their choice and offered wonderful meals. Everyone was given tokens for local laundry mats to wash their clothes, since luggage was still on the aircraft.

In other words, every single need was met for those stranded travelers.

Passengers were crying while telling us these stories. Finally, when they were told that U.S. airports had reopened, they were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single passenger missing or late. The local Red Cross had all the information about thewhereabouts of each and every passenger and knew

which plane they needed to be on and when all the planes were leaving. They coordinated everything beautifully.

It was absolutely incredible.

When passengers came on board, it was like they had been on a cruise. Everyone knew each other by name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. Our flight back to Atlanta looked like a chartered party flight. The crew just stayed out of their way. It was mind-boggling.

Passengers had totally bonded and were calling each other by their first names, exchanging phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses.

And then a very unusual thing happened.

One of our passengers approached me and asked if he could make an announcement over the PA system. We never, ever allow that. But this time was different. I said "of course" and handed him the mike. He picked up the PA and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through in the last few days.

He reminded them of the hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers.

He continued by saying that he would like to do something in return for the good folks of Lewisporte.

"He said he was going to set up a Trust Fund under the name of DELTA 15 (our flight number). The purpose of the trust fund is to provide college scholarships for the high school students of Lewisporte.

He asked for donations of any amount from his fellow travelers. When the paper with donations got back to us with the amounts, names, phone numbers and addresses, the total was for more than $14,000!

"The gentleman, a MD from Virginia , promised to match the donations and to start the administrative work on the scholarship. He also said that he would forward this proposal to Delta Corporate and ask them to donate as well.

As I write this account, the trust fund is at more than $1.5 million and has assisted 134 students in college education.

"I just wanted to share this story because we need good stories right now. It gives me a little bit of hope to know that some people in a faraway place were kind to some strangers who literally dropped in on them.

It reminds me how much good there is in the world."

"In spite of all the rotten things we see going on in today's world this story confirms that there are still a lot of good people in the world and when things get bad, they will come forward.

*This is one of those stories that need to be shared. Please do so...*

#never forget #9/11

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cpd5021 · 4 years

Text

Runaway

This one is getting posted early because I’ll be insanely busy tomorrow. Enjoy!!

Happy Wednesday!!! One week closer!! They’re finally back to filming and I am soooo excited! Thanks to @joy-meathiel for this prompt!!

“Alright, listen up everyone. We’ve got a problem.”

Not the best words to hear first thing in the morning, especially from Voight who really didn’t see much of anything as a threat. It was my second week back from New York, but my first official day back in the unit. The first week had been spent filling out countless amounts of paperwork and doing debriefings to get caught up on everything I had missed while I was away. To say I felt nervous was an understatement. Not only was this my first day back under Voight’s noticeably watchful eye, but it was also the first day back with Jay. Not that we hadn’t been hanging out for the last week, enjoying the Bartoli’s I was promised and catching up over beers at Molly’s or my place. But something about spending the whole day with him had my stomach swirling in a way I couldn’t understand. I pushed the thoughts aside and turned my attention back to Voight, who, to my surprise, was staring right at me with a concerned look on his face. I sent him a questioning look, my eyes darting quickly to meet Jay’s who looked just as puzzled by Voight’s intense stare, before turning back to Voight.

“Sarge?”

I pushed when it didn’t seem like he was going to elaborate. He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a sigh, his eyes never leaving mine.

“We’ve got to get you out of town for a bit. Word is there’s a target on your back.”

His words set a panic rising in my chest, along with an extreme confusion as to how I could be anyone’s target after being gone for so long.

“Who? How?”

I asked, standing and moving to lean against the front of my desk. He chose to ignore my question and instead turned to address the rest of the bullpen.

“Upton is going to be out of commission for a while until we get a handle on this thing. I’m going to assign one of you to get her out of here and somewhere safe. You’re to stay put until you hear from me and only me, is that clear?”

The room nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. I looked to Jay again and my stomach did another lurch when I saw him raise his hand.

“I’ll get her out of here, I know somewhere that’s perfect to lay low in.”

Voight nodded in Jay’s direction and then pivoted to walk back into his office, I was hot on his heels, grabbing the door before he could close it. He sat in his chair and motioned for me to sit down.

“You’re going to go wherever Halstead takes you and you’re not to contact anyone until you hear from me. Got it?”

I nodded in agreement but still pushed for more information.

“What is this about Sarge?”

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh as he rubbed at his face.

“The thing about those lines you crossed Hailey...they were big players. Gael has people in every corner of this city and he’s not stupid. At first he was targeting Roja’s but he’s smart enough to figure out she was too new for those kinds of connections.”

My heart ached at the mention of Vanessa. My first night back, after Jay had picked me up from the airport, we headed back to my place. I had been able to tell from his demeanor as we approached my house that something was up, but nothing prepared me for the blow that came when we walked into my place and found it void of any trace of my roommate's presence. Jay had explained all about how Voight had sent Vanessa back to narcotics and she was in a major undercover op. How I would likely not hear from her for a while because she had gone dark for the coverup. And how it all had to do with Gael. I had broken down at the realization that my actions had put her at risk and that she had been forced to uproot herself from this life that she fit so well into. Jay had calmed me down enough to give me the letter she left, stating that none of this was my fault and she would be so pissed if she found out I blamed myself. Her written words had brought a smile to my face but it wasn’t enough to ease the guilt that had settled into my chest. I swallowed hard and brought myself back to the present, looking at Voight and feeling lost over the mess I had put everyone in.

“We’ll figure this out and we’ll get ahead of it. But for now, I want you out of the picture.”

I nodded again, blinking back the tears that were threatening to gather. He motioned for me to leave and I did so, feeling defeated as I went to find Jay. When I found him in the locker room, he was tossing some of his things into a black duffel bag in his locker. I sighed and moved to do the same.

“Where are we going?”

I asked, assuming he had some remote hotel in mind and cringing at the thought of spending any more time in a hotel bed after the last month and a half in New York. He glanced up at me then, a slight smirk on his face that faded when he saw my own face.

“I know somewhere good. It won’t be so bad.”

His avoidance of a direct answer had my defenses going up. I straightened my back and turned to face him directly.

“Jay?”

He smirked again, his face turning the slightest shade of pink under my stare.

“Ontario…”

My eyes bugged out at his reply. He was insane if he thought I was leaving the country.

“Canada?”

I managed to choke out, causing him to chuckle at my hoarse voice.

“No, sorry. Wisconsin. My family has a cabin up there…”

He trailed off when I still didn’t relax. I wasn’t sold on the idea of even leaving the city let alone the state.

“Jay...hiding out is one thing but I’m not running away. This is all my fault, I should stay to help clean it up.”

I hated the way my voice sounded utterly defeated as I tried to argue with him. I knew I wasn’t going to win this fight anyway between him and Voight, so it was probably best to just go along with the plan. It didn’t hurt to try though.

“Hailey, the most important thing right now is to keep you safe. Voight will figure this out and you’ll be back before you know it.”

He took a step towards me, placing his hand gently on my shoulder to reassure me. I sent him a half hearted smile and then finished gathering my things.

*****

The four hour drive up to the cabin surprisingly wasn’t that bad, we stopped once for gas and some snacks but Jay made pretty good timing to get us here. When he pulled up the long driveway leading up to the quaint little cabin nestled back in the woods, I couldn’t help but let my jaw hang in amazement. The setting looked like something from a Hallmark Christmas movie and I suddenly felt even more nervous about this whole situation. Spending an unknown amount of time with Jay was one thing, but here? This was going to be interesting. He informed me that we could settle in at the cabin and then head back into town later for some groceries and other necessities. I hopped out of the truck and lugged my duffel bag from the back seat, my jaw still slack the more I took in. I followed him up the steps of the covered porch, noting the adorable swing hanging from the rafters and gasped when we entered the cabin. It was floor to ceiling pine and it smelled amazing despite sitting vacant for who knows how long. There was a small couch propped in front of a fireplace with a tiny TV mounted on the wall above. I doubted there was any cable service this far out but the huge collection of movies on the bookshelf in the corner of the room looked promising. A long, solid wood table was in the center of the cabin, a top one of those old fashioned braided rugs and the kitchen looked just the right size for preparing some cozy food. I noted a door down a short hallway that I presumed was the bathroom and a set of stairs that led up to a loft above us. Under any other circumstance, this would be the perfect vacation spot. But the current situation was still leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Jay moved beside me, taking my bag and trekking up the stairs to the loft. I followed after him, curious to see more. At the top of the landing I noted a huge king size bed with what looked like a handmade quilt on top. Way better than the hotel beds I had been picturing. I was so busy admiring the comfyness of the bed that I didn’t notice Jay had come to stand in front of me.

“So, there’s only the one bed. But I’ll take the couch.”

He rubbed at his neck, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

“Jay, it’s your cabin. I’ll take the couch.”

He smiled sheepishly at me, glancing back at the bed before turning back to face me, a blush covering his cheeks.

“We’ll figure something out.”

We headed back down the stairs and Jay gave me a brief tour of the tiny cabin. There wasn’t much more to see than what I had already noted but I enjoyed listening to the way he pointed out all the little details as we went. This place held memories for him, that much was obvious.

After the tour inside, we walked around the property for a bit. He told me how him and Will used to come up here all the time and how their dad was a big hunter. His eyes lit up when he talked about all the delicious cooking his mother would do in the tiny kitchen and the sight made me melt a little on the inside. After a while, we decided to head back into town before the sun went down. Even the quaint little grocery store was enough to warm my heart and I kept picturing myself in a Hallmark movie. I picked up a sweatshirt from the little tourist section of the store, earning a grin from Jay. I had a limited wardrobe from what I had grabbed from my locker so the added warmth of the sweatshirt looked inviting.

Back at the cabin, I relaxed into the couch that was incredibly comfortable after Jay had shewed me out of the kitchen, telling me he was going to cook for us tonight. I blushed slightly at the way my mind travelled at the thought, but managed to hide it before he noticed. I pulled my new sweatshirt closer, feeling a sudden chill as the evening air cooled down outside. Jay noticed and suggested I go take a hot shower while he finished dinner. I couldn’t object to the thought of some hot water so I grabbed my bag from upstairs and headed into the bathroom. For such a tiny cabin, I was surprised at the size of the shower in this bathroom. It had been redone to look like one of those spa showers and it was definitely big enough for two people. I shook those thoughts from my head and stepped into the hot water, letting my body melt in the steam. Once I was done in the shower, I tugged my new sweatshirt back on along with a pair of black leggings I had thankfully stashed in my overnight back. As I opened the door, letting the steam from my shower swirl in the short hallway, my nose was instantly filled with the most amazing smells. I followed them out into the kitchen and paused at the sight before me. Jay stood over the stove, stirring something in a large pot while another boiled away beside him. I watched as he bent to pull a pan of garlic bread out of the oven, adding to the wonderful aromas in the cabin. I shuffled into the kitchen, catching his eye and causing him to smile my way. I noticed a light blush spread across his cheeks but he turned back to stir whatever concoction was in the pot. I stepped up beside him, glancing into the pan and noting what appeared to be a homemade marinara sauce.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

I teased, sending him a smirk when he scoffed my way.

“There’s lots of secret talents I have that you don’t know about.”

His innuendo caused me to blush and it was my turn to dip my head down.

“And you said I was aloof…”

I countered, trying to ease the sudden tension in the room. He chuckled at my response before motioning for me to go sit at the table while he plated our food. We enjoyed the meal, paired with a glass of wine he must have had stashed at the cabin as it wasn’t something we picked up in town. After dinner, I battled him over the dishes and he eventually conceded, letting me wash them up. Although he remained right by my side, drying them as I went. Once that task was done, I returned to the couch and drew my knees up by my chest, the chill back in the air now that it was fully dark out. Jay noticed my shiver and moved over to the fire place, expertly working to start a fire that cast a dim glow around the room. Once again I had the feeling that I was in some romantic movie and had to remind myself that this was Jay and we weren’t like that.

“Add skilled fire builder to my list of skills you’re learning about.”

Jay smirked as he sat on the couch beside me. He sat on the opposite end but the couch was small enough we still sat incredibly close. There was no way either one of us would sleep comfortably on this tiny thing, a fact I would point out later. We fell into an easier banter, sipping on some beers Jay had grabbed from town and for just a moment I had forgotten all about why we were actually here. It didn’t take long though for our banter to bring up a joke Vanessa had once told and my mood instantly changed. Jay picked up on the shift in my mood and reached a hand over to grab my shoulder.

“Hailey...none of this is your fault.”

He tried to reassure me but we both knew that wasn’t the case. I sent him a half hearted smile at his attempt to make me feel better.

“Jay...we both know all of this is my fault. I never should have done what I did. I screwed everything up.”

We fell into a silence for a moment as Jay pondered how to proceed.

“Hailey...what happened, yea you crossed some lines. But I think you’ve beaten yourself up enough for it. What’s done is done and eventually this will all work out. Vanessa is a tough girl, she’ll be alright and you’ll hear from her again. I promise you she isn’t mad. She made me pinky promise to make sure you know that.”

I smiled genuinely at the thought of that exchange between the two of them and Jay seemed relieved to see my mood lighten.

“And New York wasn’t all bad right? I mean, it sucked not having you here for multiple reasons but you’re back now.”

His words confused me a little and I was asking him what he meant before I could think better of it.

“Multiple reasons?”

It was Jay’s turn to blush again and he brought his beer bottle to his lips, obviously stalling his response. I drilled my eyes into the side of his face, letting him know I wasn’t going to drop it.

“Well yea...I mean, you’re the best partner...and everyone missed you…”

He stammered out a reply but I could tell there was more he wasn’t saying. Suddenly all the feelings I had pushed down after he got shot were front and center and there was a tiny spark of hope rising inside of me that he might feel the same way too.

“Did you miss me? Aside from being your partner I mean?”

I picked at the label on my bottle, suddenly losing the confidence I had when I asked the question.

“Of course.”

His words came out so sure that it caused me to look up and meet his eyes. I saw something within them that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“I missed you too Jay.”

I admitted softly, my words barely above a whisper.

“Can I ask you something?”

His question threw me off a little but I nodded my head, waiting for him to continue.

“What did you want to say to me in the hospital room? Before my phone blew it. I’ve been wanting to ask you ever since but it never seemed like the right time. But now, we have pretty much unlimited time so….what was it?”

My heart pounded the second he reminded me of that day and what I had truly wanted to admit to him. The fact that he brought it up made me think even more that maybe he did feel the same way, even though I had never finished what I was going to tell him.

“It doesn’t really matter.”

I whispered, trying to cop out of this situation. As much as I did love Jay, I wasn’t sure he felt the same way and I couldn’t risk losing him.

“It does to me.”

His soft response had me looking up at him again, that unrecognizable look even stronger in his eyes now. I smiled at him shyly, my head still dipped down as I picked at the label even more. Suddenly, his hand was over mine, taking the empty bottle from my fingers and setting it on the table in front of us.

“I had just realized something after you got shot. But that would have been a horrible time to tell you.”

I mumbled out my words, really wishing he would let this go.

“So tell me now.”

He pushed, causing my heart to beat even faster. The way he was looking at me made me think he knew exactly what I was going to say and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. When I didn’t respond he started talking again, slower this time as if he wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

“Well, when you got sent to New York...the first week was rough and I thought it was because I was missing you as my awesome partner. Adam...just not the same. But then I would go home and the first thing I wanted to do was tell you all about my day and listen to everything that happened with yours. And then I hated that we weren’t having the same days and that you were off on this big adventure, probably kicking ass and showing everyone else how awesome you are. I wanted to go grab a beer with you at Molly’s or stay home and watch stupid Office reruns on TV. I wanted to hear you laugh, to know that you were okay at the end of a rough day. I’d wake up in the morning and the first thing I’d think of is if you got your coffee...because we all know how that goes if you don’t. I wanted to pick you up and drive into work together, or at least have to fight you off of my pens when you forgot yours. Hailey I...I guess what I realized, when you were gone...is that I kinda fell in love with you. And maybe I’m totally off here and that’s not what you wanted to say to me and I’m probably ruining everything right now but I just needed you to know because it’s all I think about now. You’re all I think about now…”

He trailed off and I blinked away the tears that had gathered in my eyes. The sight seemed to alarm him and he shifted on the couch as if he was about to get up. My hand grabbed his arm, holding him in place as I shifted myself on the couch to face him better. I bore my eyes into his, hoping that he could see in them that I felt exactly the same way. I didn’t trust my voice to speak but I wanted to show him just how right he was. I placed my hand against his cheek, smiling back at him when his lip twitched up into a nervous smile. I closed the gap between us, bringing my lips to rest just above his so they touched when I finally spoke.

“I love you too Jay.”

And with that I pressed my lips against his. He instantly returned the pressure, placing his own hands against my cheeks as the kiss deepened. Sparks ignited between us and I could feel my breathing coming in gasps as our tongues danced against each other. When we finally broke apart, our foreheads rested against each other and our eyes shared the same look of passion between them. Our lips crashed again and this time Jay was pulling me into his lap, his strong hands gripping my thighs as my arms wrapped around his neck. Without any effort whatsoever, he lifted me up and I could tell he was headed for the stairs. My life might be a huge mess, caused by my own doing, but for the next few hours...I was in one of those stupid romantic Hallmark movies.

#chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #halstead and upton #jay halstead #hailey upton #halstead #jay x hailey #upstead #upton

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