#the whole train was basically running on emergency exit lights

[whisperofthewaves]

local area resident is so brave about combatting the “they’re staring at me” social paranoia all the way from the train station to the tram stop only to discover this time paranoia won, bc only in the harsh and unforgiving light of the tram car did she realize her black jacket is carpeted in pale dog fur.

#I guess I managed to switch movie genres before whatever tf was going on with that train caught up with me #nothing important #this is funny bc I really couldn't win this one #it was already after dark #the house was dark when I put the jacket on #the train station poorly lit #the whole train was basically running on emergency exit lights #and then I was too focused on getting to the tram stop on time lol

[cipher-fresh]

Just Out Of Reach

Posting on tumblr due to Discord's character limit, this one's a lot longer than my other ones. A prompt from @marlinspirkhall about how food on the holodeck doesn't exist once you step off it got me thinking. TW for violence, injury, blood, food, eating disorders I think (?? rather safe than sorry) and long-term distress. Thank you for the Federation gothic prompt!

It's fuzzy, you remember the ship leaving spacedock after repairs, and some of the anticipatory silence as the odd lack of Dominion ships greeted your rush toward the Bajoran sector to help recapture Deep Space Nine and the Bajoran wormhole. You had never been this far away from home, but you'd tried to steel yourself. The red alert had blared in your ears, and you don't remember much else. You look down. You're bleeding. You curse, and look around for medical supplies.

You're in a dark building, with debris strewn around. A force field makes it's presence known as a hurtling piece of Dominion ship tailwing is stopped in it's tracks from perhaps it's original destiny of destroying wherever you were. If there was a forcefield up, there must be an energy source. You find you had crash-landed here, as there's an escape pod near the fallen bulkheads. You saddle up with the materials from the escape pod, and hunt around for any available resources on whatever man-made, oxygenated building you'd been lucky enough to land in. You put your bag down, and take off your Starfleet outer shirt. You're still wearing the gray undershirt, and over it you tie the main shirt over the wound. You wish it had been an easier area to tie, like your lower leg, and press on. After a trek over fallen metal, everything from large carts, a whole shuttle, bulkheads and PADDs, you find the opposite wall, marked with a plaque designating it the Miyamoto, a mini-space station hardly the size of a neighborhood street. Some place, you scoff. It feels like a shadowy castle fallen into disrepair, with the flickering lights looking like the occasional sunbeam brightening it. Atmospheric, at least, if it wasn't going to comfortable. It feels as if you could almost hear sad music, accentuating just quite how dark the station was, cold and alone. The Miyamoto station echoes sadly, the destruction and carnage of Dominion and Federation ships making their final stand above the station feeling long off, although you could place it as happening mere hours ago. Continuing onward, you clear a path the best you can of the debris on the ground, in case you round this area again.

You see places that look like shops- the *Miyamoto*, as per it's informational plaque, was a station commissioned and controlled by Starfleet, but it had housed many Federation-aligned planets, that is to say, planets that hadn't joined the Federation for one reason or another, but remained in contact with it, politically or economically. Your journey around the station ends as you look back down at your outer shirt, wrapped around your torso wound, and it's too red with blood for comfort. You take an unfortunate, seething inhale, processing what this might mean. You have no other than the most basic medical supplies on your bag, and you're alone on a mini-space station with debris that was ripe to fall over and crush you at any time. Nobody else seems to have crashed near you. You're alone, on an at least semi-functioning, mini-space station. And you were determined to survive. The bleeding cut on your torso should be dealt with first. Can't look for food or set up a distress call if you're bleeding to death. You take a tricorder from the bag, and scan around for anything useful. It picks up gauze a few meters ahead of you. Better than your shirt, certainly. You navigate toward it with the tricorder's map, and it navigates you to a holodeck, you recognize from the doors. Gauze in the holodeck? You thought the violin music had been a symptom of a bleeding body and the brain processing your day, but no, the violin was louder. Getting closer to the holodeck, that made more sense. It was extremely lucky the program was still running. You walk inside. The inside is a gothic, turn-of-the-century sort of laboratory. Indeed, a holodeck character playing a violin spots you, and huffs.

"You're bleeding. Are you looking for my partner, Dr. Watson?"

You take a moment- oh, this was a Sherlock Holmes program. You doubt Dr. Watson could help you, but then you take a moment to think. Emergency Medical Holograms are just as holographic as Dr. Watson here, and they have helped millions of people. You're too tired to act, so you ask him, "Yes, I need a doctor. Can you get him?" Too much also eating at your mind to enjoy the program, Dr. Watson fixes you up in the flat. You wince at the old medical technology, and wish the two of them lived in a period of time with more current medicinal knowledge. - Wait. "Computer?" you say. "Change the time period to, uh, 22nd century. No, I mean, to today. 24th century. Keep Sherlock and Watson with me." The computer responds to your request, and you see the program change around you. You laugh at the mystery-solving duo's updated outfits for the 24th century, then look back at Dr. Watson. It's a little jarring how seamlessly they continue from the jump in time, but better that than their program stop working. Watson asks a replicator- a holographic replicator, which makes you laugh a little bit, for a dermal regenerator, and you get patched up. "Stick around for a cup of tea?" Watson asks. "Sherlock really wants to know why you broke into our flat." You consider it. You've heard jokes from non-Federation species when trying out holodecks for the first time, "Calories don't count on the holodeck!" Anything you eat here wouldn't sustain you, the minute you left the holodeck. You could activate this program so long as there was energy to the station, but food was a priority. Assuming the *Miyamoto* had been in a tussle just a few hours ago during your fly-over to Deep Space Nine, now was a crucial time to find genuine replicators before they went offline. You leave the holodeck. You see the gauze over your injury (kept for good measure) disappear as you exit the holodeck, but not the skin you'd grown back from the dermal regenerator. The gauze was holographic, but the stimulated skin cells and tissues were not. You follow the path set by rounding around the small, circular station, and tracing your steps back through the cleared path you made. Your injury healed, you could now look around and find something to eat. You follow around a downloaded map of the *Miyamoto* from the plaque's infochip, and hunt down all the replicators marked on the station. One by one, they're all broken, in pieces, or missing. Maybe the station was in poor shape to begin with. You take another trip around- at least you're getting plenty of exercise in, you halfheartedly cheer- and visit all the food shops. You raid the fridges, cabinets and cupboards, and still find nothing. Intending to not be disheartened, you sit down for a moment. Your hunger is suddenly made aware to you, your vision swirling. Not good, you decide. Your stomach hurts, and you try to remember the last time you ate. Breakfast on- on the *USS Halay*. Maybe tea with Dr. Watson wouldn't be so bad, you assure yourself. You have some food with the two of them, think of a new plan, then go back out there and find some food. Some water, while you're at it, too. You walk back, and almost trip over debris you swore you moved out of your path. You enter back to the holodeck, and smell the fresh air. You find Watson and Sherlock again, and you're offered a pastry you can't remember the name of. You eat, and have some tea, and you feel at peace. You're still directly aware of the stakes, you're stuck on a space station in the middle of nowhere, but you're at least still alive. And going from desperately hungry out there to the sweet scent of buttered pastries in here in a still-peaceful London before the Dominion invaded was a sense of home you'd missed. You sat down, and considered your optics. If you left now, you'd probably be just as hungry as before, but here, you could come up with a plan, and make the time before it worth it. You clued in the holographic Sherlock and Watson into it, without exposing to them they were holograms. Quite tricky, it was, but you were glad they got over

their suspicions and were just willing to help. You and the two problem-solvers looked over the schematics of the *Miyamoto*, and found from your walkaround of the station, the replicator at the Bolarian food shop was the least broken- it had gotten halfway to forming bread before it puttered out. Although not quite a chief engineer, this seemed to be your only option. You picked back up your supplies from the escape pod that you'd kept with you, and journey off to the replicator. You feel the distinct hunger pangs as soon as you leave, and almost regret leaving. Little matter. You'd already gone and done it, you might as well make it worthwhile. You get to the replicator, and try to recall your engineering training. Basic engineering design over necessary machines like replicators and transporters were required classes at the Academy, and you couldn't remember a thing from it. You open a hatch at the back and fiddle with some of the wires and steel EPS hubcaps, and put everything back into place. Not ever quite sure what to do, you feel a fog in your brain, you know you're putting a square peg in a round hole as you try to fix this. You screw things on and off, scan it, flip a switch. Closing the hatch, you hit it for good measure, and try replicating food again. It produces a gray slop of what could only technically be edible, organic material. You take your tricorder out and get a holo-scan of it. A moment of darkness in your vision, you fall to the ground. You're really feeling it. You hold a hand to your stomach, and close your eyes tight. It hurts, it does. You could make the feeling go away, if you just went back.

A deep breath, and you turned around. Just back for a second.

Desperate to get back to the holodeck, you're assured you can figure out the replicator's problem with the holo-imager scans. You get back inside, and feel the pleasant, clean air, and walk back inside. Ravenously, you scarf down the food given to you, and you can feel your mind finding clarity again. If you could find a way to fix the replicator while inside the holodeck, you'd be set. You could fix it there, and only be hungry from the minute you walked over to the replicator, no brain fog as you tried to fix it. Maybe engineers had "Don't fix things on an empty stomach" as a rule. If not, they should. You spend a few more hours there, going over the specs of the replicator, sitting in the nice flat. It's an amalgamation of every depiction of 221B ever put to screen, and all the books are real, wholly scripted ones. You chuckle, certainly sure only a man of fiction could read so many books, bookshelves stacked wall to wall. Many of them had frantically scribbled notes and writings in them. After some time, you fall asleep. You're woken up by Watson, telling you again that you need to wake up. You rub your eyes, and consider everything from the day previous. Hungry, stuck on a space station with no food, and surviving in the holodeck. This would be a lovely nightmare to wake up from, eh? Lovely, for the fact you're waking up, you joke. "-get out there and find something to eat or your body will starve. Please. The program-" You burst out from under the blanket on the couch. Dr. Watson looks at you. "Sherlock and I put together that you're on a holodeck. Incredible inventions, truthfully, but what is more important now is your life. You haven't eaten in how long? A human would starve after not eating for-"

"About a week. But without water is a different story. Three days, at most." Sherlock filled in. You swallowed. Wonderful. You look back at Watson. "Please, we're trying to help you. You need to head back out there." That's the last thing you want to do.

Neither of them were being helpful. "Look, we can't leave the holodeck. All we can do is-" "I don't care!" you yell. "I'll just-stay in here until I figure it out." The two exchanged looks with each other. Watson got closer to you. You feel small. Threatened. "You're Starfleet, right? You haven't even given us your name. How about you-" You lash out. "Computer, delete characters Sherlock and Watson." "Not possible." "Fine! Delete whatever you need to get rid of them." "Confirmed." the computer says. The two of them phase out of existence. You breathe heavily. You hope they won't be mad at you. "Computer, change scenery. Somewhere on Earth. As far away from Sherlock as possible." "Changing location to Dunedin, New Zealand." the computer replied. You stop, and catch your breath. You'd just- stay in here. For a while. Yeah.

The systems of the Miyamoto station degrade. The holodeck, over time, begins to lose critical imaging projectors. One corner of the holodeck shows the depressingly bare and black wall, the whole program not covering the entire room. You try not to mind. You sleep. If you could just- just learn how to fix the replicator....no. You have everything you need right in here. Everything....you need. You take an arduous breath. The holodeck doors have sealed shut. The imagers have stopped working. You're trapped inside. A lone Starfleet officer starves to death on a holodeck, over an agonizing three days, just as Sherlock predicted. The Miyamoto station is destroyed by the Breen a year later, unimportant and completely alone. If one listened closely, passing an unimportant, tiny little station, they may have heard faint music of a violin.

#star trek #my writing #federation gothic #uss lilac #blood #dominion war #ds9 #wasn't planning to add sherlock holmes to the mix but when I had the injury and the violin i couldn't resist

[mysteriesmuse]

Douxie Casperan: One shot

A/N: This is purely self indulgent, I thought the idea of Doux helping the reader out with the hair style of the 12th century would be super great! (In the time period it's basically anything you want goes, but they do have lots of adornments such as the ribbons meantioned!) Enjoy! :)

“Right well,” Douxie pressed his hands together, “It seems we should all go about our set tasks remaining inconspicuous, so we need to get some 12th century garbs."

. . . .

Claire looked towards Y/N, the whites of her eyes showing until at last their fingers grasped at air, ripped asunder under the scrutinizing eyes of these medieval women.

Y/N emerged from the rooms first, “These dresses are so long,” she growls hastily grabbing a fistful of the light cotton fabric stumbling at the utter disorientation. A drastic change of wardrobe.

Her head snaps up at the sound of more foot steps to be greeted with purple trailing up to an elaborate bodice and great puffy sleeves. Claire’s face is now upturned at the corners in a smile, “You look good. I like the sleeves.” Y/N nods her chin towards Claire to which she calls.

"I know!” Claire holds her arms out and does a spin. “Very nice!”

Claire hums with a nod looking over Y/N instead of purple it’s a saturated blue, but the bodice piece is still embroidered with the same fuchsia floss as Claire’s. Noticing this examination Y/N gives a playful curtesy. “Hmm.”

“Wait a minute,” she exclaims, “no fair you don’t have the sleeves!”

“Oh yeah,” with a shrug she chuckles, “they decided that my shoulders were too big for that.”

“Pft, you’d look great in these sleeves.” She replies waving a hand. “I suppose it’s handmaiden duty now. Good luck,” Claire flashes Y/N a nervous grin before exiting the door.

-----

Can’t believe I’m the help.” Y/N mutters pulling out the list of duties the fellow castle staff has given her.

Due to King Arthur’s new ban to the forest and the tension between the magical creatures and humans the staff has dwindled. And, unfortunately, it’s suspected that those running errands have been eaten by the Gumm-Gumms.

“Laundry, Mending, the Baker,” the list ends there, but as the staff assured there’d be plenty to do as a new set of hands as the day continued on.

Y/N continues walking, crossing the giant bridge stretching across the towers. The wind up there easily moves the ever so long dress and the previously unknotted tresses of hair.

Relishing in the warmth of the sun, basket in hand she closes her eyes to enjoy the felling of being up so high.

“I-hey! Ow.”

“Fuzz buckets, sorry love. Are you alright?”

Y/N turns, only to blink up at Douxie. No, it’s indeed the one with blue hair. However, the back is pulled into a man bun up top.

“Oh wow, I suppose that’s in?” Y/N asks tentatively eyes flashing up to the top of Douxies head before meeting his eyes.

“Uh,” he hesitates before answering, “Sure. But I can tell you that your hair situation is a mess.”

Y/N reaches up to grab a hold of some strands of hair, “No it isn’t!”

A defensive holler. Douxie sighs, “That isn’t-oh, for Merlins Sake.”

He grabs at the spare ribbon tied around your wrists, “That’s not what they’re for love.”

“It’s not?” An raised brow quickly kisses the other as it’s followed by an inquisitive puppy dog tilt of the head.

Douxie fidgets. He was not expecting that kind of unsolicited action out of you. Shifting his weight he responses.

“Care if I help you out with that then?” Arm extended back towards the direction he came from with a soft smile. Y/N nods, and trails him back to his room.

“Hold still, this is gonna take a few minutes,” Douxie hums taking out a comb and getting to work on prepping Y/N’s hair.

She sits upon the table quietly, hands placed behind her for support and ankles crossed off each other as she swings them slightly back and forth.

Y/N watches, Douxie’s eyes following the work he was doing with his hands. She can’t see what he’s doing but she can tell that there’s some type of braiding going on.

Douxie works quietly. He’s not shocked at how soft it is, it’s about as rich and luxurious as you’ve always claimed it to be.

He’s skilled at this. Knows exactly what he’s supposed to be doing even after centuries, after all he was born in this one.

“There, viola!” He exclaims, fingers working nimbly, “And a pretty bow to finish it off, for the lady.” Coming around Douxie steppes back with his arms crossed to inspect his work.

Y/N grinned running her hands along the texture, the silky ribbon intertwined and encasing pieces of hair in some manner. “Thank you,” she replies instinctively reaching to grab at a small lock of hair from the base of her neck, preceding to twirl and tug it.

“Anytime, now I have some time travel duties to attend to dear.” Douxie grins with a lopsided smirk.

“So do I, and I’m going to need to ask for your clothes,” she gestures towards the laundry basket on the other edge of the room.

“Why, If you wanted them, you just had to ask.” Douxie replies chuckling, making a few quick paces over to the corner and grabbing the basket before offering it over.

Jumping off the table and walking over to meet Douxie face to face Y/N extends her arms bumping Douxie in the abdomen with a basket of her own, “Thanks. Maybe I will next time.”

Hastily snatching the basket out of Douxies hands she turns right before exiting the door, “Oh and Douxie,” she croons before clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “chin up.”

Douxie blinks his hazel eyes before closing his mouth and making the same tch, “Cheeky.”

-----

After several hours the work of the laundry, mending bin, and assisting the baker with grabbing the right ingredients was finally done for. As an errand servant in the castle Y/N quickly learned how tiring and just how much bustling about from place to place in the castle it was.

With a sharp turn down the hallway Y/N briskly walked to go grab the fabric napkins and she began meticulously, and begrudgingly folding them to be set at the Kings table for dinner.

“Oh blast it,” she growled between her teeth as she placed another folded napkin on the tray. “I can’t seem to get this darn thing to stay.”

After working all day the hair Douxie had so generously put up for her was starting to come undone. Without a mirror and without knowing the actual look all Y/N could do was put it up again by feverishly retying the ribbons end which held the whole thing up.

Perhaps that baby in the village had really tugged the lot of the knot out, Y/N pondered, struggling once again.

A grunt could be heard down the hallway and Y/N and the other castle maids and helpers quickly turned to the grand banquet doors where the sound was heard.

Only to be followed by some more clanking of metal and several loud. Booms.

The staff winced, before seeing a young Hisirdoux round the corner with eyes blown open. Y/N smiled a soft smile at seeing the punk rock boy she knew so shy and young.

He scuttled in and nervously fiddled with his fingers and with the culprit of the loud noise found, and the noises outside subsiding the kitchen staff returned to their duties.

Y/N shook her head slightly, using the palm of her hand to sniffle a snort.

Young Hisirdoux cut his hazel eyes over to her for a second. Y/N simply shrugged and gestures to her work of folded napkins before returning to it.

A few minutes later, with the kitchen mostly cleared out in light of adding finishing touches to dishes in the kitchen. Y/N went about bending over and placing one particular piece of silverware in the place setting around the entire grand hall table.

“Oh, for Pete’s Sake,” she exclaimed at the sensation. Finding the frayed edge of the ribbon dangling over her collarbone once again.

“Oh, hello there.” Hisir-Douxie replied waving his arm energetically.

With a snort Y/N waved back. Douxie was quite goofy back in the day, although, Y/N thought he was still endearingly goofy to this day too.

"You’re one of the people that other-Hisirdou- I mean me, er I brought back in time.” The tone in his voice changing dramatically throughout the entire sentence.

Y/N nodded, “That I am, but you have to kept it a secret.” She replied, making a ‘sh’ sign with her finger.

“Ha, right.” Hisirdouxie giggles while walking over. “Well, I can help with that! I’m training to be Merlins Apprentice after all.” He states matter-of-factly and thrusts a thumb into his chest.

Walking still ever so closer to Y/N, Hisirdoux stares down at the dangling offensive piece of ribbon that’s been bugging Y/N for most the of the morning.

“I could gladly fix that up for you!” He cheers with a wide grin clapping his hands together in delight.

“Really?” Y/N asks turning to face him. He furiously nods his head, hair bouncing around his face. “I’d actually really appreciate that, please.”

With a hurried jump Hisirdouxie rounds the side and hesistates before touching, “May I?” He asks voice breaking just a little.

“Go ahead.” Is the simple answer he gets before he goes in and fixes off the work of his future self coming to a pause at redoing the knot.

“And to finish it off, a pretty bow, for the pretty lady.”

#TOA #Hisirdoux Casperan #Douxie #Douxie x reader

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

“Den Mom”

Warnings: season 7 spoilers, drinking, implied sex.

Description: If you’re going to have a bunch of teenage girls over at your house who are basically just biding their time until a battle that will determine the fate of the world, then you might as well make sure they have a little fun.

You’ve always wanted to be a camp counselor. This isn’t exactly it, but hey. You’re not complaining. You’ll participate in the good fight anyway you can, and if that means setting up movie nights and taking the potentials to the mall, then so be it. It’s Buffy’s job to train them, but you remember exactly how difficult it was for her to accept that she was the Slayer. It’s best, you think, to ease the girls into it.

That’s how you and Spike get into your first real fight since he came back with a soul.

You’ve been tender with each other recently, both of you trying to prove that you do in fact know how to have a semi-normal functional relationship. He’s been through so much for you, given up everything, so you’ve been as gentle as possible. The perfect doting partner.

Except in your haste to be a good den mom, you might’ve let a few things slip about your relationship.

“I can’t believe you told them that,” Spike repeats when you apologize. He’s stalking down the sidewalk with his stupid vampire speed, which means he’s about twice as fast as you and you’re forced to run after him like an idiot.

“I’m sorry! I thought you’d be proud! You used to terrorize Xander with the details, I didn’t think that you’d mind if I shared just a little—”

“A little?” he scoffs without turning around. “You gave them the whole bloody story! No one’s going to take me seriously in there! Especially not your sisters.”

“They already knew most of it!”

“That’s not the point!”

You have no doubt that the girls are leaning out the windows of the house, gathering on the front porch in an effort to hear the rest of this argument. The two of you are certainly being loud enough, although you’re almost all the way down the street now.

“Spike, I was only trying to have some fun with them. Teenage girls love gossip, especially about boys, and they’re so interested in you—”

The flattery gets you nowhere. He whirls around the corner and you let out a frustrated sigh. You’re almost certain he’s going to the graveyard, which has become your least favorite place over the years. You tolerated it when he had his own crypt—it even became kind of cozy—but now, there’s nothing there for you.

In your hesitation, you lose him. You fully consider going home. But after having all that girl talk about your relationship and the potentials telling you how lucky you are, you don’t especially want to face them after a fight that woke the whole block.

Still, it’s not safe for you to be out on your own. You always keep a stake and holy water in your jacket, but that won’t be enough if the First decides to send something after you. With this in mind, you hurry to Xander’s to ask if you can crash there for the night. Normally, you’d consider it rude to come over uninvited, but God knows he’s stayed over at the Summer’s residence enough times to rack up a bill.

It’s a weekend, and even in a town with as many dangers as Sunnydale, there are people out and about. Not many, but enough to make you feel a little safer. Whole crowds wouldn’t stop the First from trying something, but you’re comforted by the living. The Bronze is open and although it’s not as full as it once would’ve been, the music is good and people are dancing. It reminds you of better, easier days when the world ending could be solved by Buffy and Co. instead of an entire army that might not win anyway. 

One drink, you tell yourself. You’ll hit the bar, grab something light-ish, and then be on your way. 

“You here by yourself tonight?” the bartender asks when you sit down. 

“Not for long,” you say, pulling out an emergency twenty. When he smiles, you backtrack, realizing how you must sound. “I mean–– Not like that. I’m not looking for anyone. I just wanted a quick drink.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Really.” 

“It’s like the Hotel California in here. No one comes in for one anything.”

When he sets down your drink and moves on, you down it quickly. Determined to prove him wrong, you head for the door. Only–– the music tonight is so inviting and you’ve been so focused on the girls lately. You join the crowd on the floor before you’ve even made a conscious decision. Two, three, four songs later you’re sweaty and laughing as you finally exit back out into the cool night. 

It’s late now. Xander might not even be awake. You’re willing to bet money that the girls will be, though, and you take the risk. Sunnydale is a small town. You know you can make it to the apartment in maybe ten minutes. 

You’re feeling good about this decision and don’t even snap at the man who bumps you on the sidewalk, until he opens his mouth to reveal a nasty set of fangs.

“Excuse you.”

“You know what? Just for that, I’m going to bite you.” 

He lunges at you, but you’ve already got the stake out of your jacket pocket and you slam it into his heart. It takes more muscle to do this than Buffy ever lets on, makes your wrist ache a little with the effort, but he’s dust soon enough. The vamp doesn’t concern you so much as your boyfriend, who stepped out of the shadows when things got rough. 

Spike tries to retreat, but it’s too late. You wrinkle your nose at him. 

“You followed me?” You put the stake back in your pocket and shake the cremation off yourself. “I thought you wanted your space.”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted you dead. You should’ve gone home.”

“I was going to stay at Xander’s.”

“It wasn’t enough to tell the girls all of our problems? You have to tell him, too?”

He’s poking the bear, but there’s no heat in his words, so you turn right around and resume your walk. You’re not taking the bait. If he wants to talk about this, then you can talk. Tomorrow.

“Stop following me. I can take care of myself. Obviously.”

There’s no response. If you spun around now, you wouldn’t see him. You wouldn’t hear his footsteps either. But you know he’s there. Spike’s never given up that easily. 

“I wasn’t telling anyone our problems,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, though you know he can hear you. “I wanted them to like me.”

The girls worship Buffy, even if they do think of her as a kind of demanding drill sergeant, and they hang out with Dawn. They all giggle over Spike and ask Willow all sorts of questions about witchcraft. But you worry that they think of you as the same stiff older sibling you’ve always been, the one who reminds them about lights out and takes requests for the grocery list and agonizes over money. You want them to have fun while they still can and you want to be part of that fun. 

“You were bragging.” Spike appears next to you, light-footed as a cat, and you flinch. You’ve never gotten used to that and he knows it. “You wanted them to be impressed with you, so you used me.”

He’s actually preening, spiking up his hair with his hands and subtly flexing underneath all that jacket. You roll your eyes.

“That is not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant. You knew that they all had little crushes on me and you wanted to make them jealous, show them that you were at least cool enough to land me.”

“First of all, Kennedy is gay. Second, I was not trying to make them jealous! And if I was, then I would use my savings account, or my job, or my many skills and hobbies!” 

You’ve quickened your pace and Spike matches it casually. When you get stuck at a stoplight, briefly considering jaywalking just to cut this torture short, he wraps his palm around your upper arm. 

“No need to be embarrassed, love.”

He’s trying to get you to look at him, passing his thumb gently over the cloth of your jacket, allowing you to imagine what it would feel like on skin. You keep yourself focused on the destination, but you don’t pull away.

“I’m not.”

“I think you are, a little, but it’s all right.” 

“I said I’m not.” You pivot to glare at him, but he catches you off guard with his eyes. He’s so clearly laughing at this, at you. You guess he has a right to. This time was your fault. 

“Why don’t you come back to the house with me?” he asks after a minute or two have passed. “I guarantee I can make you more comfortable than Xander. And it’ll give the girls something to talk about, too.”

“You’re awful.” 

“All you had to say was no.”

He heads back toward the cemetery in a dark flash and he’s halfway down the block before you call out, “Wait!” 

#spike x reader #btvs #buffy season 7 #buffy the vampire slayer

[warmau]

{Regular Inspired!AU x NCT} Taeil

tw: weapons mention, violence mention, n*fw elements, be warned. everything written here is a work of FICTION, it does not in anyway reflect reality, nor do i condone any of the extreme behavior. ♢ introduction ♢ pick mark instead | pick haechan instead | pick yuta instead | pick johnny instead | pick doyoung instead 

“i thought having you around would be shitty, but turns out you’re just the gift that keeps on giving....”

“i choose taeil.”

there’s no hesitation. there’s no second guessing. 

you picked taeil for a reason and that reason was 

he’ll be the easiest to escape from

you’d only maybe had a five minute interaction with him, but that five minutes gave you everything you needed to know.

for starters, he seemed to take everything lax - as if it was a joke. 

so there was no way in hell that he was going to keep his eyes on you 24/7

secondly, he was one of the lawyers. which meant he probably couldn’t knock you out like jungwoo

and he wasn’t flaunting semi-automatics like taeyong

he was just ,,,,,,,, leaning against one of the desks, eyes shifting with uninterest from you, to the window, to whatever else catches his train of thought

yeah, give it like a week and he’ll get bored of me. ill deal with his sarcastic comments, pretend im staying put. and when he doesn’t notice - ill slip away! and all of this will be over!

taeil doesn’t walk toward you, actually the first reaction to your decision is haechan’s voice rattling through the silent room with

“is that a joke?”

you shake your head, getting down from the table and swaying a little

mark and johnny both putting out hands to support you

“n-no. i choose taeil.”

the second time you say it, he finally seems to realize you’re being serious

because he pushes off the desk and sort of floats his way over to you slowly

the whole room watches in a sort of confused anticipation

“me?”

he asks for confirmation

“yes, if that’s ok,,,,,”

taeil’s mouth kind of turns up at the corner

“i don’t have a choice - do i jaehyun?”

jaehyun doesn’t seem convinced by your decision either, he comes over and looks at you with a sort of hardness in the depths of his eyes

“are you sure? i think you’re better off with someone like mark or doyou-”

you’re scared, you’ll admit that - looking up at jaehyun

but you don’t let those feelings falter your stare

“im sure.”

more than anything, you are scared of being trapped here. 

this ‘stay with us for six months so we can trust you’ is bullshit.

the moment you slip from taeil’s sights - you’re booking it out of here.

you have some relatives overseas, you’ll go there. 

or maybe you’ll even go straight to the police.

the money for a tip against the jungs - it’d be pay off my student loans and make sure my family never had to worry about rent again! plus, id rather be under the eye of the law enforcement - not a bunch of young gangsters,,,,

you wait patiently and jaehyun sort of tilts his head to the side

“well i did say it would be your decision.”

he throws a sideways looks at taeil

“don’t do anything that’ll make my family look stupid.”

taeil’s half smile turns into a full on grin

it’s kind of menacing, almost uncomfortable

“of course - how could i ever disobey the almighty jung heir?”

he turns back to you and suddenly you feel a hand touch the side of your face

taeil lets his fingertips dance a little on your skin

“we’ll have some fun together. i promise.”

the whole room shifts as they watch you follow taeil outside

as you leave, you hear mark frantically plead with jaehyun to reconsider 

“he’s unpredictable - you know your father only keeps him around because he’s so reckless he can do the most despicable of jobs so you can’t just let them go with him!”

jaehyun puts a hand to his temple

“mark, they chose taeil. plus he wouldn’t ,,,,,,,, he wouldn’t do anything to an innocent person-”

you don’t hear the rest, taeil presses the ‘close door’ button on the elevator

and as you stay, all the way on the other side of it, you feel his gaze

up and down, up and down

and then the elevator rattles to a halt

you look up and see taeil has slammed the emergency stop button and all of a sudden you feel like there’s nothing else in the world

just you and him and this small, no exit block

he steps closer and closer until he’s got you in the corner

eyes constantly scanning, constantly looking you over like some kind of wall piece hanging up above someones desk 

not like another human being

taeil smells vaguely of some kind of cologne, but there’s smoke too and it clogs up your throat

“so, tell me while we are all alone, why did you pick me?”

you think back to the last thing you heard jaehyun say

 ‘he wouldn’t do anything to an innocent person’

you panic, trying to come up with a good excuse

“c’mon. don’t drag it out. those idiots are going to figure out i pulled that stop button in a matter of seconds so spit it out.”

you rattle your brain to think of something semi-convincing

but it’s like even if you lie, you think taeil will know - you don’t know how but he will

“i just,,,,i thought,,,,,you’re a lawyer - jaehyun said that! i thought it- it’d be less dangerous to work with you -”

“oh but im not a lawyer”

yeah - no shit dude! 

you swallow, the inside of your mouth going dry as you get more and more nervous

taeil’s eyes look as if the pupils have lost themselves in an ocean of dark, murky brown 

his hand comes up to rest right beside your head and with it the blazer he’s wearing rides up

you catch it, the silver glint on the guns grip in the crutch of his waist

“rethinking your decision right now?”

he mocks

and suddenly a static roars through the elevator

mark’s worried voice coming through the built in intercom 

“hey! hey, are you guys ok?”

taeil finally moves back to his spot, but his gaze doesn’t leave yours

“we’re peachy. can you get this thing working again?”

he answers as if he isn’t the one responsible for it stopping in the first place

after a short wait

one in which you feel goosebumps raise all over your skin

and taeil doesn’t say another word

the elevator jerks and the doors open to the lobby of the jung building

where mark pulls you out and starts examining you for any wounds

jaehyun throws a nasty glare at taeil 

“did you pull this stunt?”

“you should get your father to upgrade the elevators,,,,,jaehyun.”

taeil comments, sarcasm dripping off his voice as he brushes past the jung heir

and strolls toward the front doors

“i have to go with him-”

you start

but mark’s grip on you tightens

“no you don’t. just chose me instead.”

there’s a sincere amount of concern in his voice

and for a split second you consider it - your original plan seeming more and more like a death trap as your time with taeil continues

but even with mark’s begging gaze and worried hold

you shake him off gently

“im ok with taeil - really -”

jaehyun puts a hand on mark’s shoulder when he begins to insist that you’re not - you don’t know anything about him and that he would be the better decision

jaehyun seems to be indicating that mark is going too far, spilling too much information

and you already know too much

he motions for you to catch up with taeil whose leaned up against the wall outside

there’s a cigarette between his lips and he plays with his car keys 

the look he’s wearing doesn’t seem to think you’re going to come back

but when you show up in front of him again

taeil just smirks

“you must be a little dumb, huh?”

he asks and you shift uncomfortably at the way his voice sounds when he insults you 

“why do you say that?”

he takes the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the floor and putting it out with the heel of his shoe

“no one in their right mind would pick me over mark, and by the looks of it - that kid is basically throwing himself at your feet.”

“he’s just worried for my saf-”

you start and taeil steps closer to you

“you should start being worried about it too.”

everything taeil has said up to his point has been some sort of mix of irony and cryptic threat

you don’t get it - is he dangerous? he must be with the way everyone had freaked out about my decision

but even still, he could be the most dangerous guy in seoul and it was still evident that compared to everyone else

he had the least interest in your well being

which meant - he had the least interest in protecting you

quietly, as taeil walks through the garage toward his car you began plotting to yourself

chances are he’s going to drop me off at home, he doesn’t seem like the type who is going to let me stay at his house. i can start figuring out a way to get overseas - maybe book a ticket and find some way to hide my passport just in case someone from the jungs tries to raid my place. i think if i rummage around and check my savings i should have enough for a one way to-

“get in.”

you’re startled from your thoughts at the command

finding yourself in front of what looks like a foreign sports car

not only is he probably a little crazy. he’s flashy too. seriously - how has no one found out that these people aren’t just ordinary office workers?

you open the door and slide in, the leather interior gives off a strong smell and taeil takes a moment to get in after you

he puts a hand on the wheel and you don’t even get to buckle yourself in before he’s pulling out of the space with a violent jerk backwards

you catch yourself on the dashboard, heart beating in your chest

taeil thinks it’s entertaining with the little chuckle he gives off and you try hard to hold yourself back from saying something

taeil drives just like his personality

he has no indication of traffic laws, running red light after red light 

and swerving lanes that are tight closed and give you a near heart attack

like you’d suspected, he drives you to your home and when you get out you’re a little nauseous from being driven through what felt like a hurricane

taeil rolls down the window with a click as you wobble toward the front entrance

“im sure you can get to work tomorrow by yourself?”

you hold yourself up to the best of your abilities 

“y-yeah”

you manage, holding back the sick feeling in your stomach

taeil doesn’t ask if you’re ok, doesn’t get out of the car to check on you, hell he doesn’t even seem to wait for you to give him your full answer before you hear the screech of the tires

and the sound of him racing back down the street

once you get home, you’re thankful to find that your lock isn’t broken and it doesn’t look like anything has been touched

you get yourself some water and sit yourself down in front of your laptop

you end up falling asleep at your desk, the search bar open to multiple tabs 

‘plane tickets to....’ ‘red eye cheap flights’ ‘how to deal with people who might just be crazy’

the morning comes, taeil doesn’t show up - no one from the jungs does and that at least brings you some comfort

i was right, he’s totally going to slack on this whole ‘protection crap’ i’ll pretend for a couple of days to be a good hostage and then ill get those tickets and be on a flight out of here

you get to the office early and nearly everyone gives a sigh of relief as if they’d thought you wouldn’t even last one night

johnny makes conversation with you first, when you ask where taeil is johnny simply shrugs

“he comes in on his own time. no one really knows his schedule.”

“what should i do till he shows up?”

johnny smiles and reaches out to touch your arm

“you’re such a hard worker - i like that. maybe you should consider switching your pick to me? im a lawyer like taeil so if you’re interested in the field i can help.”

instantly you remember taeil’s words

“oh but im not a lawyer”

your blood goes a little cold 

do the people who work with him even know who he really is? is the only person who knows the ceo?

“ah, im ok! really! but i can help out if you need me, since taeil isn’t in yet-”

you start but then freeze when you hear the elevator doors ding open from the hall

you couldn’t have known it was taeil coming in

but something inside your head had automatically put the notion up for grabs

and like magic

it is him, and he’s got a duffel bag over his shoulder wearing an unpressed white button down with the tie barely hanging onto his neck

he spots you, lowering the sunglasses and wagging his finger for you to come over

you feel embarrassed, but do it anyway 

the people around you all seem to be staring at your tensed back, but taeil doesn’t even take notice

“come with me, im going to make you useful.”

the sentence is almost demeaning in some sort of way, but as much as you want to give back a well thought-out quip 

you bite your tongue and remind yourself of your plan

who cares if he pushes my buttons, i’ll have the last laugh when im out of this hell hole!

you follow behind as taeil heads toward the stairs

you guys go down an endless amount of floors it seems like

till you get to a door with a dna scanner

taeil presses his palm to the glowing neon pad and the system identifies him - unlocking the door as you shuffle in behind him

the room is barely light, misted in tones of red 

immediately you feel uncomfortable by the cages and weapon racks 

the scattered and messy bulletin boards 

the miscellaneous parts of dangerous looking metals atop some of the long tables 

and the unsettling photo of the jung family that hangs at the end of the basement wall

jaehyun is in the portrait, standing behind his father and mother 

his eyes coldly stalking your every move

taeil seems relaxed, as if places like this that look like villain dens in actions movies are where he thrives best

he sets the duffel bag down and unzips it 

“have you ever put together a ghost gun?”

he inquires as if he’s asking you about lunch

“w-what? no of course not!”

you keep looking all around the room, worried something or someone will jump out at you

as if one of the various firearms or knives will come alive magically and find its way over to you 

a silly thought, but one you imagine any normal person would have in a place like this

taeil sighs

“then i guess i’ll have to teach you.”

“im sorry, but i don’t think that’s something i want to learn.”

taeil flicks his eyes up, almost amused by your disdain 

“it’s a great life skill - are you sure you’re not interested?”

he pulls a part out of the bag, you don’t know what it’s for or what it does

but your instinct tells you to step back

taeil chuckles

“it’s an ar15 that hasn’t even been built - no need to jumpy.”

you lose the ability to even answer him as he pulls more and more out of the bag

effortlessly he organizes them out in front of him 

his hands gliding over them, his lips muttering the names 

he isn’t speaking to you - he’s speaking to himself

and like a bird trapped in front of a lions cage you don’t dare to move

taeil lifts up his finished gun, aiming it at something on the wall and he looks like a character you’ve only seen in movies

hell you still aren’t sure the gun he’s holding it is really there

but the fact that you don’t even dare to budge proves that it is

you notice taeil has some sort of glove on the hand that’s steadied on the trigger

it’s finger less and has what looks like a light on the top of the palm

just like the gun you saw flashed on his waist you start to put pieces together

you’re not a lawyer - i know that - but who the hell are you?!?!

taeil seems to suddenly remember you’re there with him and he sets down the ar15

he moves around the table and comes closer as you start listing every kind of prayer you can in your head

“want to try holding the gun?”

he asks and takes your arm 

he leads you to the table and you stare down at it 

this thing can kill people

you swallow

“n-no. im not touching it.”

you resolve and take a step back, feeling yourself come into contact with the front of taeil’s chest

“why not? isn’t it a little bit exciting?”

he puts a hand over yours suddenly

you can feel the scratchy fabric of the glove on top of your skin

you shake as he pushes your hand forward

at first you resist, your body trembling in response  

“please don’t make me do this -”

taeil seems to ignore your plea at first and his strength overpowers yours so you can feel your fingertips inching closer as he strains you to lean toward the gun

but then 

just before you can brush the matte metal

he pulls you back and lets out a laugh

slightly traumatized you turn to look at him, the tip of your tongue burning with the need to lash out at him

why are you being so twisted to me? i didn’t ask to be in this situation!

but you can’t push the words out because you feel your heart racing and your brain reminds you about your plan

dealing with this humiliation is only going to last a little while - then you’ll be out of here. put up with it. don’t say anything that might get you chopped up.

taeil catches your look though

“don’t worry, im not the kind of douche bag that forces people to do things they don’t want to.”

he says and you want to spit back a “yeah right!” but keep silent

“but i don’t need you being just dead weight on my back. so here, do this instead.”

he motions to some paperwork that’s at the bottom of the duffel bag

when you pull them out stacks of rolled up hundreds are underneath 

money in amounts you’ve only dreamed of

taeil sees you hesitate and he scoops a couple out like they’re candy at the bottom of some halloween bag

tearing the rubber band off with a snap the wads unfold and he starts stacking them up 

“i need these numbers to match those on the paper. if they don’t let me know.”

he points to the rest of the money 

“undo the rest yourself. i’ve got business.”

he turns toward the door and your eyes go wide

is he - is he about to leave me in here with all these guns and all this money? is he -

“don’t try anything though - the big man is watching.”

he tilts his head up and you follow the line of sight to a high tech looking cctv camera in the corner

you notice more as you look around and your momentary distraction leads you to jump when the door closes behind taeil

you stare down at the paper in your hands, then at the money in the bag

you sigh and think that it’s better than handling weapons with taeil of all people

but before you start counting you move yourself to another table, far away enough from the ar15 that you don’t have to catch it in the corner of your eye

taeil doesn’t come back, instead after a couple of hours you’re surprised to hear the door open and jaehyun strolls in followed by taeyong and jungwoo

the three of them don’t seem surprised to see you there and instead carry on their conversation

you try not to eavesdrop but they’re not exactly whispering so you keep your eyes glued to the papers and pretend to feign uninterest as much as possible

“so it’s a suicide mission?”

“i mean the guys has an entire army of security guards, not to mention locals who live under his thumb. taking him out is nearly impossible but my dad thinks taeil can handle it.”

“he should still consider sending one of us with him, just to keep an eye on things.”

“you mean the mission or an eye on taeil?”

“taeil. i mean last time we sent him to italy and he went awol for like three weeks. what if this time he just doesn’t come back?”

you bite back your lip at the sound of taeyong’s question 

it’s not that you’re exactly worried about taeil - just all of this talk makes you so curious 

what’s his real job here? why is he such a wild card yet no one seems to mind?

you get so wrapped up in it that when you accidentally drops some of the stacks of money and the entire basement goes quiet

you can’t help but turn cherry red, muttering an apology you don’t think they can even hear

the trio shuffle out after that, leaving you with more questions about your moon taeil than you’ve ever had before

and when he does finally show up it’s not like you’re in any position to ask him all these things

so you tell him you’ve done all the calculations and everything adds up 

“great! looks like you’re actually of use to me afterall. but for today - you’re free to go.”

he doesn’t make a movement toward the door, just kind of is ushering you out with a dismissive wave

“y-you’re not driving me?”

he gives an eyebrow raise

“why would i? im sure you know how to use the subway.”

you kind of buffer a bit

“but - i -”

you don’t really want to go on encouraging him to be overprotective or anything so you just drop it 

you pick up your things and move out toward the door but just before you let it close you hear taeil call out

“but if prince jung asks - i did drop you off.”

the week you play goody-two-shoes and abide by whatever command taeil gives you is grueling to say the least

everyday it’s as if he’s testing your patience, trying to wear you thin with some sort of bizarre task

“here are our embezzled tax forms, read over them and make sure our cover names are correct” 

“can you carry those over there. be careful, there’s some expensive organs in there.” 

“think you can try shooting that target, c’mon we’ll start small with handguns.”

“stupid bastard stained my shirt with his blood again, google laundromats nearby for me.”

how you mentally survive? you have no clue

the amount of times you’ve wanted to just go absolutely feral on this dude has exceeded a numerical amount you’re sure of it

somehow he finds ways to make even mundane interactions between you two irritating 

just giving you a big smile when he says something that pushes a button you didn’t even know you had

but you bare it 

you bare it and when you wake up after the week is over you take your passport out of the book you hid it inside

you sling your packed bag over your shoulder

and instead of getting on the train that takes you to the jung offices like you have this whole time

you flag down a cab and tell them to drive you to the airport

your mind is racing with thoughts, most of them are not about your escape but about taeil

you’re confident that he has no clue about your plan

so that’s not what you’re all caught up about 

instead it still bothers you - everything he’s said, everything he’s done in front of you 

somehow none of it really fits or makes sense 

what was the point in showing you all the dark underbellies of the jung family business

making you watch him put together illegal weapons, making you count stolen money, subjecting you to every part of the black market you didn’t ever wanted to know existed

all while half mocking you for being repulsed

maybe he’s just used to being around other people like him

but you don’t think that’s true either, it was obvious even from the short time you were with him that the rest of the group were uneasy around him 

always hushing words behind his back

never really confronting him directly, unless jaehyun had done it himself

you begin to think maybe he’s just always been sort of an outcast in his one way, but that doesn’t spark much sympathy in you

what he and the rest of them are doing is illegal. once im in another country, ill phone the police and let them know what i saw.

you thank the cabbie when he lets you out at your terminal gate

you’re not nervous about being caught - you’re pretty sure you’re going to get out of korea without a hiccup

daily you’d checked your home for wires or inconsistencies

you’d even set a trap on your door to make sure if anyone had unlocked while you were gone you’d know once you got home

but it had seriously been so easy 

because taeil doesn’t give a shit. that’s why im able to escape right under his nose. if it was mark or johnny - im sure i’d been caught. then again maybe if it was mark or johnny i wouldn’t want to leave so badly,,,,,

you find your departure on the scheduling board, comfortably you put you bag down in baggage claim and buy yourself a drink at one of the coffee shops inside

your wait consists of you leafing through the news, snorting to yourself at the photo of the jung ceo plastered across the business page 

you’ll be front cover once the police find out who you really are!

and when you hear the boarding call for your flight you get up and stretch 

to your utter dismay you hear your name boom across the announcement system

“if the passenger will please report back to check-in, there seems to be an issue with your baggage”

you huff

“this better not be about the shampoo i packed, it’s not even that big of a bottle”

you turn and hope that this little mishap won’t result in you missing your flight

the agent at check in directs you to a security agent who says they’re going to lead you to your bag so you can give them consent to search it 

you try protesting, explaining that it’s just travel shampoo

when suddenly you’re pushed through a door into some tiny cramped office

and it’s shut behind you with a loud thud

your eyes need to adjust from the brightly lit airport to the dingy little room

but when you see the familiar face in front of you, one hand on the back of the chair of a duck-tapped looking airline worker

you think this has to be some sort of nightmare

taeil isn’t wearing his usual unpressed, mismatched suit that he puts on as a sorry excuse for a ‘business man’ disguise at work

he’s sporting form fitting jeans, with a white t-shirt and a brown leather jacket thrown over it

his left ear is adorned in various hooped piercings and his hair which is usually combed out of his face is sticking up wildly 

he runs his tongue over his lips when he sees the color drain from your face

“so - want to tell me why you missed work for this?”

you don’t know where to look

should you keep your gaze locked with taeil’s

 which seems even more deranged than you’ve ever seen before

or should you look at the poor airline worker whose sobbing quietly through the tape on their mouth 

“i-i just -”

excuses, come on think of excuses! but what does it even matter, he’s not going to believe me anyway.

you take a breath and decide that you’re not about to start squirming and begging for mercy like taeil probably think you’re going to do

in fact screw this - you have no means of escape and he’s totally going to rat you out to the jung ceo for this stunt

so if you’re going to end up in a body bag - you’re not going to go out without letting all your frustration go 

“yeah, i tried to escape. did you think i wouldnt?”

taeil seems a little taken back by your change in tone

suddenly you’re not stuttering like a baby, and the paling with fear has turned into a burning anger in your eyes

“did you think i wouldn’t try to get the hell out of my situation - especially being stuck with you of all people. don’t think i didn’t overhear all the chatter from your fellow associates or whoever the hell you consider them to be. ‘oh taeil is so unpredictable’ ‘taeil is going to get them killed!’ ‘taeil is only around to do the most dangerous of jobs’ - come on like any normal person would stick around to experience that.”

taeil listens, for the first time he’s not saying anything witty or cutting in to give you a piece of his mind 

instead he looks as if he’s ready to hear it all and well,,,,,,,,,you’re going to give him it

“on top of that, i only chose you because you’d be easy to get away from. i don’t even know how you got here - or how you knew i where i was going because it was obvious from the start you had no interest in keeping me safe. im surprised i even made it out alive in a week, i thought for sure someone would kidnap me or send me some threatening letter about how i have to die to keep my family safe or something. you know, the jung -”

taeil doesn’t let you finish when you bring up the family name

he steps closer and puts a hand out - you half expect him to be holding the end of a knife to your throat 

but he’s not

instead he just presses his fingers to your lips and breaks out into a giant smile

“i love this, i really do. but let’s remember not to spill any important secrets.”

the poor airline worker looks as if they’ve sweated through their eyes with fear - you feel horrible

but at the same time the anger inside of you has flared up once again

he’s just so smug - im telling him off and he’s smiling about it! i ought to just-

taeil’s phone goes off and he clicks his tongue

“well it was nice meeting you”

he says to the airline worker who seems to be begging for the tape to come off of their mouth

but taeil ignores them and takes your hand before you can even process what’s happening

“but we have to be going now. ill make sure someone knows to take care of you~”

with that, taeil pushes past the door and you have no real choice but to let him pull you alongside

the door shuts behind you and you wonder what ‘take care’ means in taeil’s dictionary

but decide to just scrap it from your mind 

you’ve got bigger problems right now ,,,,,

taeil uses his free hand to answer his incoming call 

“huh - what? oh yeah. i found them. turns out they were sick and went to the hospital but they’re better now. ill update you later.”

you blink 

did he just lie about where i was?

to your shock when taeil starts driving, it’s the opposite way from jung enterprises

instead he ends up pulling up on the side of the street of a residential neighborhood much like your own

it’s not the fancy sky scraping loft or suspicious looking apartment in itaewon 

it looks normal. boring.

taeil tells you to come with him as he rounds the side of a two story house and ushers you through the back screen door

the place is ,,,, plain and rather small

it’s more of a studio than it is a full apartment, the bed is in the corner with unmade sheets

a coffee mug looking lonely beside it 

aside from a desk with a large dual screen setup there isn’t much of anything 

and you wonder if this is really taeil’s place or if ,,,,,,,,, he just broke into some poor college students pad

“what did you except, guns on the wall?”

he jokes as he emerges from the kitchen and sits down cross legged in front of you 

you feel on edge - what’s going on here? am i supposed to just relax like he  didn’t just catch me trying to flee the country?

your shoulders tense and you look around once more

there’s a shelf with cd’s stalked up on them

you think they probably contain a bunch of data stolen from rich people or hacked emails

but when you look a little closer it turns out they’re just cds - a lot of them are from the early 90s

you feel odd about this 

you feel like there’s some kind of punchline to a joke you’re not really getting

“so, you really tried to escape huh?”

you snap back to reality and narrow your eyes

“i mean, you heard what i said. who in their right mind would agree to six months of being basically a hostage.”

“oh don’t think that im questioning the decision. im just surprised you had the balls. excuse the term.”

you sit up a little straighter

“what?”

“it’s just, you seemed like a pushover. very much that poor kid mark lee’s type.”

you let the slightly irritating comment slide 

“well i needed to be a good hostage so you’d let your guard down even more. then you know, i’d build up your trust or whatever and seize the unsuspecting moment.”

taeil makes a sound of approval

“see - i thought you were just scared for your life. turns out you’re a pretty good strategist and a bit of backstabber yourself.”

you shake your head

“im not a backstabber for trying to get out of a bad situation with a bad person.”

“im offended, you don’t know much about me.”

you purse your lips 

before you’d just keep what you wanted to say to yourself but seeing as though the dice has been rolled and you missed

you’ve just decided you’d rather become unhinged

“i know that you’re the kind of person who asks a civilian if they want to shot a gun for fun. the kind of person who ties up a poor airline worker for no reason.”

taeil chuckles and wags his finger

“my reason was to get you over to the office. no way was i going to get on the mic and go ‘hey it’s taeil - i know you ran away, you better come back and keep playing nice!’“

you grumble because there isn’t any arguing with that

“fine, whatever. so when are you going to hand me over to the jung ceo anyway? i broke the stupid ‘six month’ rule so i guess-”

“oh im not handing you over to anyone.”

taeil curtly responds

“i thought having you around would be shitty, but turns out you’re just the gift that keeps on giving and anyways my loyalties don’t lay with the jungs.”

you feel like you should be much more surprised by that than you are,,,,,but really you had seen it coming 

the way taeil talked to jaehyun? his obvious ostracizing from the group dynamic? mark’s intense disapproval of him - even though taeil was his elder?

“but,,,,,then who are you loyal to?”

he suddenly starts to inch forward, the look he gave you back in the elevator when you chose him returns

hooded, curious 

you lean back, your arms going wobbly as you try to support your body weight and taeil let’s his smile 

much like that of the iconic cheshire cat

curl up onto his face, eyes sparkling with mischief

“im loyal to no one.”

you still don’t know if the place you had been taken to by taeil was really his home, but what you do know is that when he does finally drive you both over to jung enterprises

he pulls a backpack out from his trunk and throws it to you

inside are your business clothes

“change so they think you really did just get sick on your way to work.”

you roll up the windows and kind of throw a look over your shoulder

taeil puts his hands up and waves his cigarette around

“i won’t peak through the car windows, i promise.”

he’s still acting like this is all a silly game, just like usual but you are slightly thankful that he seemed to think some of this whole lie through

when you emerge, you ask taeil where he even got these clothes from

they aren’t something you actually own - they just look like an outfit you had worn before 

“i figured out your size when i first saw you.”

the sentence sort of throws you for a loop

“a-are you saying you checked me out?!?!”

taeil shrugs, letting out a small puff of smoke over his shoulder

“it’s not my fault you’re pretty cute.”

he starts making a brisk walk for the entrance door and you don’t get to further the conversation because once you catch up

the doors burst open in front of you 

jaehyun is standing there and you go frozen when you sees he’s pointing a gun straight toward taeil

taeil rolls his eyes but uses his hand to push you behind him

“alright, why are you mad prince jung?”

taeil sings absentmindedly

like there isn’t a weapon pointed right at him by the son of the company he is employed by

jaehyun ignores him, but you can practically see him popping a vein in annoyance

instead he instructs you to get out from behind taeil and come over to him

“w-why?”

you ask and jaehyun drops his voice

“you weren’t sick were you.”

you feel your stomach knot

did taeil tell him what really happened? maybe someone at the airport contacted him,,,,,,,,,oh god im dead meat,,,,,,,,,

“taeil was trying to get rid of you - wasn’t he? what did you do to them you crazy motherfucker - did you poison them? threaten them - why aren’t you coming over here get away from that lunatic!”

wait - wait,,,,,,jaehyun thinks taeil did something to me? and is lying to cover it up?

you step from behind taeil who kind of gives you a shrug

“jaehyun,,,,taeil didn’t do anything to me. really i just ate something bad and he came to pick me up.”

jaehyun doesn't lower his gun, but his face falters a little

“is he forcing you to say that? you know taeil i wouldn’t put it beyond you to get an innocent person involved with your sick games.”

taeil isn’t even paying the slightest attention to jaehyun or the fact he’s looking down a barrel

he just looks at you and asks

“well, did i force you?”

“no! no he didn’t so please jaehyun don’t hurt him,,,,”

looks like im begging to save taeil’s life,,,,,,,,what a freaking twist of events

jaehyun finally puts the gun down, slowly securing it to the halter on his hip

you let out a sigh of relief and taeil walks straight up to the jung heir 

before you know it he’s up in his face, smile twitching as he locks eyes with him

“pull a gun like that me when we’re alone, i fucking dare you.”

with that taeil pulls back and calls your name out

for a moment you’re torn

you could just go up to jaehyun, tell him what really happened and avoid spending the rest of your time with taeil 

you’d be risking a lot - because jaehyun wouldn’t lie for you. he’d take you straight to his father and you don’t know what would await you there

or you could go with taeil

succumb to your choice and trek it out for the remaining months 

no one would know you tried to escape, well at least not until taeil decided to tell them

he’d probably dangle it over your head like blackmail 

but somehow

that was better than facing the ceo

you join taeil, brushing past jaehyun and feeling a shiver go down your spine

the image of him holding the gun aimed at taeil - right in front of you,,,,,,it chills you to your core

you end up back in the office with taeil, a couple of people ask if you’re really feeling ok and you assure them that it’s fine

mark seems wary just like jaehyun and once again offers that you change your pick to him

but something keeps you from doing so 

mostly because you need to keep an eye out on taeil so he doesn’t let anyone know you tried to run away (and effectively rat out the whole place)

but also,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,it somehow feels wrong to think of choosing someone else

after this whole mess of an escape plan,,,,,,taeil seems to go through a change of heart

his personality is still erratic and the tasks you’re dealt by him are sometimes downright outrageous 

but he’s cut back on the mocking 

and he’s much more open about what he really has been up to

of course, only when you’re around to hear

another big change is that he starts driving you to and from work

sometimes there are nights where he just takes you back to that simple little studio 

you ask him why the first time he does it and he explains that it’s just for show

jaehyun wants him keeping a closer eye on you ever since you got sick, so every now and then he’ll have you spend the night there so jaehyun doesn’t go off nagging about it

“so this really is your place?”

you don’t touch the tea taeil has set down for you, still not so comfy with the idea of being friendly with him

“one of them. no one ever suspects a criminal living in next door. just your friendly neighbor.”

you refuse to sleep on his bed, and taeil lets you bring a sleeping bag from home

the more you end up staying there - the more you learn about the parts of taeil you’d never really expect

for one the cds on that shelf are just cds

a lot of them are from famous 90s female soloists and at one point you peak into his open closet to see a guitar in the back

taeil obviously likes music, he hums when he does work by himself and you ask one day (much to johnny’s bewilderment) if taeil used to be a singer or something of that sort

“sorry love, i know close to nothing about him. but he did once tell me he has perfect pitch.”

you think that’s a rather odd talent in this industry, and you don’t tell taeil that you heard about it

instead one night when you’re forced to stay over again you ask if instead of sitting in this uncomfortable silence

if taeil can put on one of the cd’s

“i don’t really think you’ll like my music taste-”

“try me”

you wait as taeil shuffles around and then you hear a click

stevie nicks’ ‘two kinds of love’ fill the room

and you get slightly taken back at the pick

“who in the world do you think that you are fooling~”

taeil moves slightly to the melody and you watch half enchanted half confused as he keeps up with nicks’ unique vocals

it’s a rather strange choice especially in this day and age, but it’s not entirely unwelcome

and somehow it fits the persona of taeil you’ve gotten to know through this insane whirlwind 

for the first time,,,,,you don’t want to escape the room you’re in with him

instead you want to keep listening to that voice

the song ends and the next one begins, taeil says you can feel free to turn it off if you’d like

but you just let it play 

you get up at some point just to shuffle through the other cds and you don’t notice taeil watching you

a small smile settles on his lips because when he calls your name

you don’t flinch

you just look up and ask “yes?”

you’re probably a month into this whole mess when taeil suddenly suggests you leave work with him early

“i don’t want to go on one of your ‘suicide missions’ as everyone else calls it -”

“well damn you just get feistier and feistier with me, huh?”

he raises an eyebrow and you cross your arms

the days of you not answering him back are long gone

and much to your amusement taeil likes that about you

“and anyway, we aren’t going to do business. in fact - i just have to ask you something that i can’t inside that godforsaken building.”

curiosity gets the better of you as you watch taeil lie to jaehyun about getting some work done from home

you follow behind and still, the chill you’d gotten from jaehyun when he pulled that gun follows you just like his gaze

taeil walks past his car and instead beckons you to follow him out onto the street

you don’t really understand what’s going on until you’ve walked a couple of blocks away and taeil turns to you

“ive been thinking about it and i feel like you had the right idea.”

“the right idea about what?”

“about escaping.”

you stop short and give taeil a look

“what- taeil why are you bringing that up now? are you finally going to tell the ceo-”

“no, did you hear me right - i said i think you had the right idea. i think it’s time to get out of this place.”

you shift in your spot and start walking again

to passerby's you look like two co-workers in a natural conversation

hell you might even look like a young couple

but your voice is panicked and taeil is getting excited at the prospect

“i mean, if we both escape - it’s a win win. you get out of korea, and out of the next five months of dealing with me and then i get out and i don’t have to run around like a dog for the jungs anymore.”

you look down, trying to maul this over in your head

“taeil -”

he glances your way

“why did you even join the jungs in the first place?”

he shrugs

“i thought it’d be fun?”

“i don’t buy that. next.”

he chuckles and makes a side comment about how nothing gets by you 

but then he seems to get serious 

“i didn’t have a future doing anything else. music was my passion in life but it fell through,,,,,”

he trails off

“and aside from that i didn’t have anything else to care about. and when you’ve lost the only thing to live for you start finding shortlived meanings in other places.”

“what do you mean,,,”

you ask, gentle for the first time in a conversation with taeil

“i mean i got mixed in with some people, i wanted to make money but i couldn’t do it through music so i found other ways. you know, illegal ways.”

he pauses and you take a second to notice how this is possible the longest time you’ve been in a conversation with him

and haven’t seen that manic smile on his face

instead his profile is unsettlingly calm as he recalls his memories

without the wacky grin on his face - you would even say he looks rather handsome

with a well defined jaw and prettily shaped eyes

even his voice seems to become more appealing as he speaks without a sense of sarcasm in his tone

“turns out i had other gifts aside from music, i have great aim with a riffle and have never been scared of blood. but you know, that’s just me bragging.”

he turns to you with a chuckle but you’re not laughing along with him

“did the jungs recruit you?”

“sort of,,,,,my old boss cheated jaehyun’s father and so our gang ended up getting torn apart. the ceo saved me from ,,,,,, well ,,,,,,,, punishment because he’d heard rumors about me.”

“rumors?”

taeil shakes his head

“i don’t want to get into it, but what do you say - how do you feel about attempting another escape with me?”

there are a hundred, no probably a million reasons why you should have said no

but then again

there’s one reason you said yes

much like there was one reason you’d picked taeil in the first place

out of everyone at jung enterprises - he wanted to get out of there as badly as you

and he had the ability to do so (plus he was probably way better at these kinds of things than you)

taeil explains that as much as he’d love to just turn around and walk out of the jung building one day 

he cant do that

cctv records when he comes in and out, and being gone for a prolonged period of time will get noted by someone in security and jaehyun will be notified

on top of that all of the members have a special eye on him

he gives you background information on what you’d overhead about him going awol in italy

“it was a failed escape plan. i had done a snipping job of a high profile gambler who owed the ceo money,,,,,,,i had gotten a hold of over half a million dollars and wanted to smuggle it through wire transfer to another country that i could later fly to ,,,,,,,, but that tech nerd taeyong got on my tracks. so i lied and said i just had some mishaps with my fake passport.”

you kind of find it hard to believe taeil really wants to leave this job,,,,,he just seems like he enjoys all this dark stuff way to much

but then you look at the cds and think about what he told you on your walk

“and when you’ve lost the only thing to live for you start finding short lived meanings in other places”

it’s weird how you had felt so uneasy around taeil before

how you had always thought he was one moment from snapping, how he’d actually just hold your own means of escape as blackmail over your head

and yet now

you didn’t feel uneasy at all

in fact ,,,,,, you think you were beginning to trust taeil

because no matter how wild he’d been before, he was thorough in his planning

he didn’t jump headfirst into it like you had

he was making steps and using his leverage with different members to his advantage

you’d never admit it to his face - but he was proving himself to be smart

no wonder the ceo kept him around,,,,,,,

finally taeil lays it all out for you

“there’s an upcoming job to transfer smuggled goods through a warehouse downtown. apparently the parts are packaged inside specific handbags and i offered to jaehyun that you play the part of a buyer who’d be interested in purchasing the disguised handbags. at first he said no way but then i ,,,,,,, convinced him.”

you sit back, “what did you say to him?”

“well i said that you were bored of doing paperwork and so ,,,,”

“you told jaehyun I wanted to do this?!??!”

“how else do you think he’d let me take you along with us?”

you cross your arms, but finally give in 

you had thought you and taeil would just pick a day to make a mad dash for the airport

or maybe you’d be hiding out on some cruise ship 

but he was the criminal - you were just the civilian (with a bit of a rowdy attitude - as taeil described it)

“so when you buy the designated handbags, the seller will know which ones to give you, you’ll bring them over to mark - he’s going to be acting like your friend whose also shopping around-”

“wait,,,,,,,,,why is mark there - i thought it would just be you and me”

taeil’s shoulder fall a little for a second

“im not usually on these kinds of jobs,,,,,this is kind of like childs play for my talents. i do more,,,,,, hmmm bloody kinds of jobs?”

you shake your head and make it known that you’d like to be spared the details

“but then why is jaehyun letting you go in on this one?”

“well you picked me as your knight in shining armor so i have to be there. mark is just collateral.”

“hey - don’t say that he’s nice.”

taeil apologizes, jokingly of course but you are a bit upset that you’ll have to be betraying mark right to his face

you do hope one day he’ll understand the position you’re in 

taeil goes on to explain

“after that, ill be waiting in a car out back. ill get out and start helping you guys load the handbags. one of them contains payment for the ceo, ill take that handbag and put it to the side. once we’re in the car - ill pretend jaehyun is calling me and step out, you can come with me since im basically supposed to keep an eye out for you - but ill secretly smuggle the payment into my jacket. once we round the corner of the warehouse - there will be our moment to escape. mark will think we’re having a long phone call so it’ll buy us time and this money is clean so we can use it to pay for tickets without being tracked by the jungs.”

it’s a lot to process really 

you don’t know where to begin making sense of it but there’s a sense that taeil has been running in this game long enough to make a coherent plan out of this

you nod slowly and then look up at taeil

it’s been a roller coaster with him 

since the moment you got introduced to now

and somehow you thought you’d end up hating every second spent with him, but these days it didn’t seem like that at all

“where are you going to go, im going to my relatives so -”

taeil just runs a hand through his hair

“ill figure it out.”

something feels heavy in the center of your chest,,,,,,you didn’t expect that you’d be thinking about taeil’s safety just as much as you were thinking about yours

but that night you’d for the first time agreed to sleep on his bed

you turned over, taeil was borrowing your sleeping bag for the night

sprawled out on it with his hair everywhere and his mouth slightly open

you didn’t know if everything he was saying was a lie or not ,,,,,,,,,,, how the same person who had intimidated you so much before just looked so,,,,,,,,,, vulnerable now

you think about it - what kind of childhood did he have? did he grow up wanting to be a musician, to bring happiness to others and ended up doing just the opposite?

you look at him and suddenly the heaviness in your chest is a sharp pain

does it hurt him to be cruel?

the job gets confirmed by jaehyun’s father and everything gets set up for the following monday

mark keeps making rounds to ask you if you’re REALLY ok being a part of this

you assure him every time that you are - adding a silent apology for whats waiting for him actually

taeil keeps up with his antics in front of everyone, showing up looking like the out-of-his-mind lawyer everyone pins him to be

and making sure no one is suspicious of anything

but when you two are alone it’s a whole other story

up to a point where you are pretty impressed with this front he’s been holding up

“it’s not a front.” 

he says when you bring it up the night before the big day

“but you’re so different,,,,,,,when you’re not around them. when you’re alone with me.”

taeil stands up and walks closer to you

much like he has a million times before

but this is the first time you’re not shaking with fear or feeling the anxiety of anticipation at what he’ll say or do next

you just,,,,,,,,,,,feel his warmth come closer to yours

“people are multi dimensional. i was that person for a long time, enticed only by danger - living only to think ill die tomorrow but now there’s been a shift inside of me.”

you feel the air thicken 

you refuse the reality of the moment 

no, there’s no way this is happening

there is no way im feeling what im feeling 

for him

for taeil

the details of his face jump out at you

brown bedroom eyes, slightly tanned skin, thick dark hair 

no 

no

where did my hatred for you go? when did my discomfort turn to pleasure? why am i looking at taeil and thinking ,,,,,,, hoping ,,,,,,,, longing for him to-

“can i kiss you?”

it’s breathed against your cheek, it feels like a butterfly that’s just grazed your skin 

your brain reasons with you, it plays back all the times he’s made you feel humiliated - all the times you’ve wanted to punch him and tear him down

but none of it has an effect because you put your hands up 

settling them on his shoulders

taeil is stronger than he looks, you’ve known that for a while and you can feel the curve of his collarbone 

his eyes are burrowing through you 

you’re not even naked and yet you feel like you don’t even have to be because he can see it all anyway

“yes”

taeil kisses like a firecracker, he tries to start of with a gentleness but you groan against his lips to not waste your time

to not hold back

he chuckles and says something about how that’s the person he fell for 

always putting him in place, making sure he doesn’t slack

it’s weird how you imagined he’d taste of cigarettes and how it’d put you off

but he doesn’t

he taste slightly of the chamomile tea he likes to drink 

and you find yourself enjoying it much more than anticipated

his hands know what to do, they know what places to touch 

“have you done this a lot?” 

you ask against his neck and taeil shakes his head

“im just a natural i guess.”

“oh shuttup, you liar”

he laughs and somehow that turns you on too

in the morning you ready yourselves mentally

by making out more

and also going through the plan step by step

you feel butterflies in your stomach and you’re not sure if that’s because of the fact you’ll be escaping the clutches of the jungs

or if you see taeil’s back flex a little as he pulls a white shirt over his head

either way you find yourself at the warehouse

mark standing against a wall 

your hand reaching out to take a number of hangbags from the seller

with more confidence than you thought you had in you

you pass some to mark

once you’re confirmed to have gotten all of them you follow him back out to the car

taeil steps out

taking the load of your hands and letting his eyes flick over the contents

mark’s busy loading his bags into the trunk and he doesn’t see taeil wink your way

once inside the car, that’s when everything becomes vibrantly real

you feel your pulse quicken

but then taeil’s cool hand brushes yours

don’t be nervous

his eyes say and he takes his phone out from his pocket

“prince jung is calling me again - im going to take this outside.”

he motions for you to follow him but before you open up your side of the door 

mark puts out a hand

“they can stay in here with me.”

you throw a worried look over at taeil and you can see the cogs in his brain are working too

the seconds feel like hours

and marks hold on you is like a chain dragging you down 

taeil sighs

“god i really didn’t want to do this.”

he mutters and you gasp when he pulls something out of his pocket

it’s a small handgun, so tiny that you didn’t even notice he had it

mark tries to move to shield you but taeil just gives an annoyed groan

“you idiot, im pointing it at you lee!”

mark’s eyebrows furrow

“what the hell do you mean-”

“let them go.”

you look at mark and nod, something in his worried eyes goes stone cold

“are you in on this too?”

you don’t answer, but you feel his fingers uncurl from your wrist

you feel horrible, you feel like the worst person on earth

but you get out of the car and behind taeil

who uses his free hand to get the car keys 

slowly he backs away - keeping his eyes on mark who sits looking ice cold in the backseat of the car

“sorry man, there was no other way.”

taeil says as he closes the door and clicks it shut

he lowers the gun and you reach out to interlace your fingers with him

“let’s run!”

you and him sprint off and turn the curb of the warehouse - to your shock you hear glass shatter behind you 

“mark probably shot the window open!”

taeil explains and keeps tugging you toward him as you turn the bend

waiting there is another car, taeil ushers you inside and you look into the rear view mirror as the door closes to see mark turning the curb too

there are gunshots, you think he must be aiming for the tires

but taeil pulls backwards and the sudden movement stuns both you and mark

long enough that he pulls out of the warehouse back lot and back onto the street

you can feel your heart racing and you think you’re seeing stars in your vision 

but taeil’s driving is just as insane as the first time he drove you home and it’s the only saving grace that get you two to the airport

the money is thrown down in front of the ticketing agent and you quickly say the name of the flight you want

taeil hesitates

i thought he said last night that he chose where he wanted to go - don’t tell me he lied!??!

you see his eyes scan the boards, but your flight leaves in twenty minutes and the ticketing agent is urging that if you want to get on it you have to buy the last ticket now

but how can you

you need to know taeil will be safe too

that he isn’t going to turn around and walk back into the hands of the jungs

he’ll die if he does that - they’ll kill him for sure!

without another thought you scrap the idea, you take one look at the board and see the other last minute flight

“two tickets to china.”

taeil whips his head over to look at you wide eyed

“that’s not where your family is-”

but it’s too late you’re taking the tickets and handing the agent the money

the rest you scoop back into your hands and you tug taeil along through the terminals

neither of you have nothing but the clothes on your backs and the money you got from the warehouse

taeil is looking at you - a mixture of confusion and doubt all on his face

but you don’t say anything you just keep pulling him toward the terminal

it’s not until you’re on the plane 

that everything floods down and you turn to him

“why didn’t you buy the ticket to see your family?”

he asks again, this time neither of you is on the high of adrenaline 

sanity is seeping back in

but you don’t feel the guilt you thought you would

you don’t feel like you made the wrong decision

instead you just lean up and flick taeil’s forehead

“you idiot, you said you picked a destination last night.”

“wh-what are you talking about who care you just gave up the chance to go to your family and be sa-”

you shrug

“i learned that sometimes being reckless is the better choice. plus,,,,,,,,what was i going to do - let you wonder off on your own? you’ll probably die without someone to take care-”

taeil suddenly understands

he gets why you chose these two tickets to china 

he leans over, pressing a kiss on your lips in the middle of your sentence

“you could have just said you wanted me to stick around.”

you huff, crossing your arms

taeil chuckles and starts pressing even more kisses up your neck

you tell him to cut it out there are kids on this plane

but he just pulls back with a big grin

“i was right,,,,,,,,,,,you are the gift that keeps on giving.”

“if you compare me to a gift or anything else one more time ill call jaehyun the second we get off this plane.”

#*does a weak peace sign and falls over* #taeil scenarios #taeil imagines #taeil au #moon taeil #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #member: taeil #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #nct u #nct #nct 127 #taeil #regular au #guns/ #violence/ #suggestive themes

[thewildwaffle]

Abduction - Chapter 19

This may be the longest chapter I’ve written so far. The next shouldn’t take long to get out either, I’ve already got a good start on it. I’ve been reading this out loud to several of my friends, and I’ve definitely noticed things change in my writing, or in my characters, or I’ve noticed plot points I started to set up and then never followed up on. I’ve said it before, this is the first draft. As always, if you have any feedback, comments, or any notes to leave, please feel free - I live for that stuff! And added bonus, it helps motivate me to write more!

Stay lovely, friends!

Also, the reason Mike decided to learn morse code is the same reason I learned it. The story Mike learned in school about the POW who used Morse Code to send a message is true and you can learn more about Jeremiah Denton here

***

First Chapter    Previous Chapter      Next Chapter

The Burnti medics hadn’t been gentle about fixing Jebannuck up. His wounds were cleaned and dressed, yes, and everything seemed to be on the mend, but the process of getting to that point had been rough. And slow. He’d made plenty of trips to infirmaries before (and probably would make more in the future if he lived through this whole ordeal). Honestly, he was surprised at the level of care he had received at all.

He didn't fight them when he was put in this cell. There would have been no sense in that really. Plus, he wouldn't have had the strength or energy to fight back even if it had been logical to do so. Whatever Commander Rozar or anyone else in charge around here had planned, he’d just have to be sure he was ready.

He hoped the humans were okay. It seemed to him that they would be. They were civilians. That's what he kept telling himself. They are civilians, he'd correct himself. They were and still are.

What troubled him really was Commander Rozar’s interest in them. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. Mike and Wenona, as well-intentioned as they were did not do themselves any favors by defending him. He had been in no danger, or at least, no immediate danger. They just worried about him. They’d jumped in to “save” him- their “friend.” Was that a normal human thing to do? Sure, he’d saved others before, crew members, teammates, civilians, employers, and the like. There’d been a reason to do so. Orders. Duty. Responsibility. He had no doubt he would do whatever it took to save another Sefra like himself, but the humans? It still puzzled him how they had seemed to adopt him into their pack bonding tendencies. It was something he never, never thought he’d be a part of.

If he was completely honest with himself, his heart felt a little warm at the idea. He chuckled to himself inwardly. Funny how close proximity and a few life-threatening experiences could bring him so close to aliens he had been trying to avoid before.

Jeb leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. Maybe that was why he’d been so well taken care of, all things considered. Whatever Rozar was planning, he needed the humans cooperation. It’d be easier to get on their good side if he was kept alive- as a show of faith at best. Or as ransom at worst.

What was the Burnti Empire planning? They wanted an alliance with Earth and were willing to destroy the planet’s relationship with the Galactic Confederation to do so. But then what? Jebannuck knew more about humans than most on his crew, they were resourceful, durable, and for the most part, glent-tic crazy. He shuddered to think about what all the Burnti Empire could accomplish with the Earthlings as allies.

He shifted. His back slid across the smooth metallic wall behind him. The pain was gone. From what he could tell, there was hardly any scarring after the medics had done their job. He could sit comfortably in his cell, or get up and move around freely. Or as freely as one could in a glorified prison cell.

It was a relief that the Burnti Empire seemed to follow a high code of treatment for their prisoners. that's great and all, but he was still a prisoner. So were Mike and Wenona. Simmo? He wasn’t really sure of her current standing. She'd be fine though. She'd find a way to sway their current predicament to her advantage. That was the way Montauk always seemed to work. Whatever her plans were, Jebannuck was sure he could rule her out of any strategies he'd have to make to get out of here. Thank goodness.

The guard somewhere outside his cell was relieved of duty. Like clockwork.

But the new guard wasn’t alone. A familiar blue scaly alien entered and stood in front of his door. Jeb recognized it as the one in the back of the throne room when they’d met Commander Rozar.

At first, it didn’t say anything, just tapped and scrolled through a datapad it held in its short stubby fingers. Jebannuck watched it silently, growing more annoyed with its presence with each passing moortik.

“If you’re here to intimidate me to give up any information, you might as well go back now and tell your superiors you failed.”

His visitor didn’t respond at first. When she did, she didn’t even look up at him.

“I think not. Besides, the information I’m after is hardly Galactic Confederation classifieds.” She made one last swipe on the datapad and looked up at him like she was calling for the next person in line at the galactic vehicle registration department. “Name?”

Jebannuck frowned. What the frewan were they playing at?

He must have been taking too long because his interrogator, a Blue Donkun if he wasn’t mistaken, tilted her head back and sighed loudly, “Name. Your name, please. I haven’t got all day.”

Whatever she was playing at, he wasn’t going to make it easy. “Tokkannib Sefra.” That was actually the name of his grandfather. He wouldn’t mind his grandson using it though, he’d died shortly after Jeb had entered basic training.

The Donkun’s face didn’t move, but it seemed to emanate a sense of tired frustration. “No. It’s Jebannuck Sefra, correct?”

Jeb leaned his head back against the wall behind him and growled. “Tell me something, is it common Burnti practice to ask questions you already know the answer to?” He lightly rubbed at his jawline, “Seems like a pretty inefficient work ethic.”

The Donkun’s short, wide snout twitched. “My orders. Your name. Jebannuck Sefra. Correct or no?”

Jeb dropped his hand back down into his lap and studied the Donkun. She was short, as most of her species are, barely reaching half of Jeb’s height. Her neck, arms, legs, everything about her was stout and somewhat blockish. Even the set of horns (if one could call them that) on her head and running down to her stubby tail were more like little white nubs than anything.

“Yes. Correct. That’s my name.”

The interrogation continued like that for several moortiks. His name. His age. His assigned ship. His assigned position aboard said ship. How he had sustained his injuries. How he and the humans had escaped Gamnut 4, and on. All of it was information they should have already known or would have been hardly inconvenienced to look up themselves. But she kept asking them, ardently typing down every answer he gave before moving on to the next question.

Finally, she asked something that once again made Jeb pause before answering.

“What was the designation code of the escape pod you used?”

Why, by all that is bright, would they need or want that information?

“I don’t see how that would be pertinent.”

The Donkun took a deep inhale and lowered the datapad slightly. “Look, this is the last thing I need. What was the designation code?”

Jeb thought about it. What was the designation code? He’d had to enter it to get it to launch it from the Gladius, and again a few times later at the console to activate different sustainability protocols. It was also painted on the hull as a way for rescuers to identify it.

“GLA-8…” he paused and tried to remember. “GLA-8-C2… Uh, C2-137, no wait, 147. I think it ended with 147.”

“GLA-8-C2-147,” the Donkun murmured slowly as she entered the information. All the while, Jeb’s mind was firing, trying to figure out why the Burnti Empire would want that information. Why would they want or need any of this information, really? Then it hit him. If rescuers could use the designation code to find a launched pod, then the Burnti could too. But why? Why would they want it? It was basically only good for spare parts at this point. Unless...

“If you think you can get anything on the Galactic Confederation from the pod’s console, you’re going to waste your time. It’s an emergency escape pod. You won’t find any information of interest to you from it.”

Again the Donkun barely looked up from her datapad as she finished up her notes. “Eh. Maybe not. We’ll see though. If there is, it will just be an added bonus for us. If not, well, no big deal. We’ll still have it in our possession as evidence.” Jebannuck frowned. “Evidence of what?” She turned around and began walking back towards the exit. “Evidence of what?!” Jebannuck climbed up to his feet, staggering a bit with his still-sore muscles.

She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder, her bored expression now tinged with annoyance. “Evidence of our rescue of the humans.”

“Your rescue? That's not what happened, that's not the truth! You abducted us!”

She hummed. “It's Commander Rozar’s truth,” she turned back and walked out the door, leaving Jeb alone with the guard once again. “So it's the only one that matters.”

***

It was bight. Like, stupid bright. Why did these lights have to be so up in his face?

Mike squinted to try to make out shapes in the shadows beyond the glowing panels surrounding him.

He'd been on film sets similar to this before, backstage sometimes when his parents had been interviewed or were guests on talk shows. He'd even been called on stage once when his parents announced that their son would be piloting a mission around Jupiter. They were going for the “family business” spin. It was a publicity stunt, really. Were there more qualified pilots in the company? You betcha. But were any of them the only son of the founders and owners of NearStar Explorations?  No, they weren't.

Maybe as it turned out, lucky them?

No. He had to stay positive. This plan was going to work. This… this had to work.

Oh, who was he kidding? With Rozar in charge of all of this, it was probably going to suck.

So, the plan. Yeah. He took in a deep breath and ran over things again in his mind.

Morse code. He’d had a few teachers and professor go over it briefly in various classes. It was simple enough. He’d even spent time trying to memorize it a time or two - the reason being that if he knew Morse code, he might be able to use it and see if there were secret messages being sent around in everyday life. Like flickering lights, or in the weird clicking noise the elevator at the academy made sometimes, etc.

As it turned out, there weren’t. Or at least, not as far as he could tell.

There was a story though, one that a teacher had shared about the uses of Morse code. It had really stuck with him through the years. During the Vietnam War, there’d been a pilot who had been shot down and captured, tortured, and later forced to appear in a press conference on tv by his captors. He said what they wanted him to say - that the POWs were being taken care of, that everything was fine, all of that. But while he was there - while he spoke, he blinked out “TORTURE” over and over in morse code.

And so he’d been practicing. He couldn’t remember all the letters he needed, but he remembered the pattern, and between him and Wenona, they figured something out. He’d also been blinking a lot lately to make what he was about to do not seem so conspicuous. It was especially easy to do when you were being blinded by stage lighting.

If he squinted or shaded his eyes, he could make out the hustle going on beyond the shadows. Strange, scaly blue aliens were bustling around, checking monitors and running cables. One with hunched shoulders and wispy hairs running down its spine ran up and clipped a small microphone inside the collar of his shirt. It was easily hidden by a colorful sash. It seemed to be part of the fashion or uniform on the ship. He wondered briefly of what the different lengths and colors meant. The ones he and Wenona had been given were a solid light blue color. It was the same color as the blue he remembered seeing on the hulls of many Burnti ships when he was still aboard the Gladius.

Red lights started glowing where he was pretty sure he’d seen cameras. Were they recording? Was this live? Or were they just going to record it and edit it? Was he going to throw up? Oh man, he hadn’t had stage fright in years, but there were definitely butterflies flappin’ around down there now! How many people were going to see this? How many planets? And not just that - what if he messed up? What if he had to talk and blink code at the same time and he lost track of how many blinks he’d done in the middle of a word? He and Wenona had practiced before after they found out about this whole ordeal, but that was back in their holding room. This was happening for real now.

“Are you ready there, gorgeous?”

Mike jerked his head jerked to his left. He’d been so focused on not freaking out that he hadn’t noticed the new alien show up. The first thing he noted was the skin. At first, it looked rough or coarse, but upon further inspection, Mike realized it was just an illusion of the swirling patterns of color and shadows that seemed to be constantly changing. Its head was vaguely shaped like a lizard’s, though the snout was very short and blunt. It was honestly kind of hard to see what the rest of it looked like. It was wearing a lot of fine sashes and fabrics. Like, a lot of them. It was small though, the colorful crest on top of its head made it probably as tall as Mike’s chest. If that.

Another smaller alien was setting up a mic amidst the sashes, while another hovered about on a double set of gossamer wings, applying a fine translucent powder to the colorful face.

“You look like you're a lost deer head in the light.” She gave a musical laugh. Or at least he thought it was a “her”. He had a hard time telling with some species. Especially for ones he hadn’t encountered before. He’d learned a while back to not guess out loud. It got awkward sometimes. But for this particular alien, he couldn’t help but think she was a she. She sounded like a she. Wow, that was a lot of colors! It was kind of distracting.

“Did I say that right?” Mike forgot to not stare. He blinked a few times to try to make him blinking out code later seem more normal. What was it that she had said? What was she trying to say right?

“Uhm, yeah I think so,” he muttered as he tried to collect his thoughts again. “Wait, what?”

“It’s an Earth phrase, I believe.” She gave him a smile that made her small, slitted eyes nearly close completely. “It seems like an odd thing to say, but I’m sure it must make sense back on Earth?”

Mike smiled back, only remembering at the last minute to not show his teeth in his smile. He didn’t need to freak anyone out or scaring them. “Uh, yeah, deer in a headlight, sure am I guess.” That was what she had said, right? Oh, he needed to calm down! Seriously, where was this stage fright coming from? Deep breaths, deep breaths.

“Oh is that how it goes?” She gave another laugh. The colors across her face changed again. It was… mesmerizing. He nodded absentmindedly.

The smaller aliens finished their tasks and retreated back to the shadows beyond the stage lights, the winged one giving one last brush to the topmost sash before it flitted away.

“Now, before we start, your name is pronounced Mike, correct? I’d hate to get that wrong on live stream.”

He nodded, “Yeah. Mike.” He blinked a few more times for good measure.

“We’re going live in 7… 6… 5….”

Mike took a few more deep breaths and tried to focus on the patterns he needed to get his message out.

“Greetings all from the Arum Bloom, Second Command Cruiser of the Glorious Burnti Empire. For all our loyal returning viewers, you of course already know me, but for those of you who may be new or guests to our stream, my name is Urma Kalabretti Esh.” Music began playing from somewhere. It sounded happy and upbeat, but whatever instruments that were used to play it sounded tinny and hollow. There wasn’t a live audience present, but someone was doing a great job of playing recordings of various species cheering.

After pausing long enough for the music to die down, Urma Kalabretti Esh continued, “Thank you, thank you! Of course, it is always my delight to share with our lovely viewers the news, stories, and enlightenment of the Burnti Empire!”

She turned her head toward what should have been where the middle camera was set up. Mike realized they must have gone for a wide shot. He was on camera now. Okay. First letter. First letter? Oh, shoot! Uh… P!

Short blink. Long blink. Long blink. Short.

“Today we have a special guest with us to share some very exciting news. Prepare yourself, viewers, we’re in for a treat and a tale! May I introduce Human Mike Rockwell all the way from Earth!” The music started up again. It sounded a lot like the first time, but the melody was slightly different.

R. Short blink. Long. Short.

I. Short. Short.

S. Short. Short. Short.

“Now Human Mike, you’ve been with us here on the Arum Bloom for nearly three solar rotation sets, correct?”

O. Long. Long. Long.

“Yes.”

Oh, shoot, what was N? He sometimes got mixed up with N and A.

Long. Short. Pause. E. Short. Pause. R. Short. Long. Short.

“And you and your companion, another human, were found and picked up by our gracious Commander Rozar shortly after the fall of the Confederation Blockade?”

Was he being too obvious with the blinking? Someone was going to figure out what he was doing and stop him, right? Would they stop him on live stream, or would they wait until a break? Was there a break? Did aliens do commercial breaks? What would they do if they caught him? Oh shoot, he should start blinking again. Wait, what was the question she asked?

“Uh… yeah.” He hoped that would be a good answer to whatever the question was.

Short, long, long, short. Short, long, short. Short, short.

“Now, we all know your people have an alliance with the Galactic Confederation,” she paused as a series of “audience” voices moaned, hissed, and otherwise sounded very unhappy at the mention of the GC.

Short, short, short. Long, long, long.

“But tell me, Mike, were you yourself ever aligned with or signed up with a Confederation crew?”

Short. Long, short. Short. Short, long, short.

“No.” Short, long, long, short. “I was a pilot for my parent’s company.”

He focused on blinking out the word on repeat. All the while, Urma Kalabretti Esh continued the interview. For a good little while, she mostly fed Mike questions that he only needed ten words or less to answer. Together, they painted a picture of events that Rozar or whoever had made up- how he and Wenona had been abducted by a Galactic Confederation ship, had been forced to serve on board and to fight until they’d escaped in a pod during the battle at the blockade.

“Now, Mike, is it true that you and Wenona were stranded for a time on the planet Gamnut 4?” The “audience” gasped.

Mike continued to blink.

“Yes, everyone was distracted. We got away and we landed in an escape pod.”

“Gamnut 4,” the alien host gave a worried look, the swirling colors on her scaly face muted slightly. “From what I understand, it’s registered as a category 1 death world. That must have been terrifying for you two all alone!”

Long, short. Short. Short, long, short.

They hadn’t been alone, he wanted to say. But that wasn’t what had been scripted. “Uh, kind of. It wasn’t too bad. Actually, it was a lot like home.”

“Ah yes, how interesting! Your home, Earth, is registered as a category 3 death world, am I correct?”

Short, long, long, short.

“Um, yeah I guess. It’s just home, so I’ve never really thought about it as a death world.” And he hadn’t. At least, not before he left Earth. He’d heard so much about other homeworlds while aboard the Gladius. Most of them sounded like dream vacations spots.

“Truly remarkable! I suppose Gamnut 4 seemed like a breeze after growing up with all Earth could throw at you.” The colorful patterns brightened again. Mike tried to not let himself get too distracted. Thankfully, he felt that at this point, he had fallen into a bit of a rhythm with the code. Hopefully, the message was getting through.

“Now Mike, I know after you were rescued from the planet, Commander Rozar explained the situation with Earth’s alliance with the Galactic Confederation.” “He did.” Short, short, short. Long, long, long.

“Isn’t it terrible?! First, they block the Burnti Empire, getting a monopoly for Earth interactions, and then they turn on their supposed new allies by abducting you and who knows how many else?!”

The “audience” erupted into a cacophony of gasps, snorts, shouts of outrage, and whatever other noises they had on file to play.

Short, long, short. Short, short. Short, short, short. Long, long, long. Long, short. Short. Short, long, short.

“Tell me, Mike, if circumstances had been different if the Galactic Confederation hadn’t forced our people apart, do you think a Burnti/Earth alliance would have been better than what your people are currently suffering through?”

Oh, she was laying it on thick now. He knew she would. That’s how it was planned to go. He said what she wanted to hear. Or rather, what Commander Rozar wanted to be said.

Short, long, long, short. Short, long, short.

He agreed. He commended. He praised the Burnti Empire for saving him. He recommended them to his leaders back on Earth. Inwardly, he grimaced. He cited off all the things that had been scripted for him to say. All the while, the words felt dirty in his mouth.

Stick with the plan. If he didn’t, who knows what they’d do to Jeb.

Short, short. Short, short, short. Long, long, long.

Someone would catch on, right?

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#abduction #chapter 19 #jeb #jebannuck #mike #wenona #burnti empire #gladius #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are space orcs #aliens #space #humans #morse code

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 15

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

One repeated cuss that had become my mantra for the past five hours.

When I flew into the police station like the devil was on my heels, Flo had assumed the worst; her wrinkled eyes blown wide at the sight of a near frantic Hopper careering towards her.

“Flo, Flo; is my dad here?” I’d near demanded; my messy blonde hair sticking to my forehead in an unsightly mess.

“No, Lola; he’s out on patrol. Can I help you with anything sweetheart; you look worried?” She’d asked with all the softness of the grandmother I’d never had, her hands reaching out to steady me.

“No, no. I just really need to speak to my dad...” I tried to reassure her, but my near panting did little to steady the nerves.

“Well; I can try his radio Lola, but are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?” Flo continued to insist, even as she trotted over to the comms desk, her short legs surprisingly nimble at her age.

“No, no. Just; if you could get through to him, that would be great...” I replied, eager to speak to my dad ASAP.

She picked up the radio, first tuning into my dad’s frequency, before speaking into it.

“Chief Hopper; do you come in? This is the station...” Flo called, her voice steady as she waited for a response.

Nothing?

“I have Lola with me Jim; do you come in?” She asked, but still silence.

We both waited on baited breathe as the silence seemed to stretch on eternal.

Flo took her thumb off the button.

“Sweetie; I don’t think he’s gonna answer.” Flo said; her eyes softly sympathetic, but she must’ve seen the wild look in my eye and mistook it for fear.

“But we can try again...” She nodded, pressing her thumb down on the button once more.

————————————————-

I always thought the discovery that a child was missing would be the worst part; that one moment when time seemed to slow to a stop and realisation hit you faster than a freight train, but I was wrong.

It was the waiting that was killer.

Rocking back and forth on the edge of a worn couch, unable to sit comfortably, because goddamnit; she was somewhere out there! Chewing nails down to the beds, the taste of blood on my tongue, because already my mind had jumped to the worst case scenario, and that thought made bile rise up from my stomach.

Dad was no better; pacing up and down like a caged bear, contributing to the steadily growing pile of cigarette butts on the kitchen ashtray.

When he’d pulled up to the police station, his face cycled through the seven stages of grief; all sorts of wild and painful theories on why I’d called him crossing his mind.

I never rang him at work; not even when I fell off my bike and had to get twelve stitches in my left thigh.

There was very little a Hopper couldn’t deal with by themselves; so for me to call in for backup meant that the truly unthinkable had happened.

He’d rushed towards me; an unsettling mix of relief, confusion and concern passing over his face, because yes; I was okay, but I’d still called him, and that meant some serious shit had happened.

“Thank God!” Dad exclaimed, pulling me to his chest in the best attempt of a hug a Hopper could reach for.

“Are you alright Lo? What happened?” He asked as he pulled away, hands still resting on my flushed cheeks.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” I insisted; my pulse finally slowing a little now I knew I wouldn’t be alone in this.

“But we need to go home ...” I insisted; my voice firm.

“Now.” I gave him a look, conscious of Flo’s worried form standing mere feet away.

“Of course.” He nodded, already reading between the lines and making his way back to his car; me following close behind.

“Wait Hop; where are you going?” Flo asked, picking up on our sudden exit.

“Family emergency. Got to clock out early.” He gruffly explained already unlocking his car.

I climbed into the passenger seat, knowing I could come back for my bike later, and that I really needed to give dad the lowdown on what to expect when we got home.

“But what do I tell Joyce Byers? She’s been calling all morning...” Flo hounded my dad as he climbed into his truck; our family’s ever illusive nature clearly losing its charm for her.

“Shit. Right...” Dad hissed, pausing to rapidly switch between his dad hat to his Chief hat.

“Tell her I’ll call her from home when I’ve sorted out this mess.” He said, giving Flo a look that let her know he wasn’t just saying it to keep her out of his hair.

“Alright Hop. But you best keep your word.” Flo conceded, before slamming the door shut for him.

Dad turned over the engine, the truck roaring to life, before he quickly spun it around in the parking lot; probably breaking several traffic laws in that manoeuvre alone.

He bombed it out of the parking lot, speeding onto the street as if we were hot in pursuit.

“Tell me what happened.” Dad demanded, all business as he refused to take his eyes off the road for even a minute.

I took a deep breath, before launching into a word for word account on what I’d found when I’d gotten home that afternoon.

——————————————————

Sitting in that cabin felt as close to torture as I was probably gonna get; the oppressive silence near stifling, because dad refused to do anything besides smoke and brood since he’d finished tearing the house apart.

And he wondered where we got it from?!

I’d really expected more finesse from an acting police chief, but apparently searching for clues looked a hell of a lot like having a tantrum, and I got a glimpse at what might’ve happened if I’d ever decided to call his bluff and run away to Steve’s one day.

The whole thing wasn’t pretty, and once dad had resolved that Eleven wasn’t actually hiding beneath any of the furnishings; he’d resorted to the Hopper Family’s most favoured pastime; simmering in absolute broodiness.

I heard footsteps outside; so light it could’ve been a hallucination, if not for the thunderous ones that followed.

The door opened and I looked up; relief flooding my system in a rush of endorphins that left me running over to her, encompassing her in a tight hug.

“Thank God...” I sighed into her hair, unable to stop myself from running my fingers through the curls, because yes; I wasn’t hallucinating and she really was okay.

“I was so damn worried about you.” I said with a pained smile, pulling away to take a good look at her, just in case she was in fact an illusion.

She smiled back at; the familiar warmth removing all doubts from my mind, only to be ripped away with the angry slam of a door.

“Friends don’t lie...” Dad spat; his face the picture of fury as he loomed in the doorway, his gaze nearly burning holes into Eleven’s skin.

“Isn’t that your bullshit saying?”

“Dad; give her a break...” I petitioned from the floor, still kneeling at Eleven’s height.

“After she deliberately disobeyed me?!” Dad asked incredulously; his eyes switching to shoot their venom at me.

“No; that’s not happening.”

Eleven was a smart kid, and pissed off to boot, so she took the first initiative and headed to her room.

“El...” I called after her, following close behind, because as much as I understood her desire to run away from this; I knew dad wasn’t going to make this that easy for her.

“Hey! Don’t you walk away from me...” Dad growled, charging towards us both with adamant ferocity.

El attempted to throw the door shut on him, but he caught it, storming into the room with his accusations blazing.

“Where’d you go on your little field trip; huh?” He interrogated, blocking the door as if she was about to make a break for it any minute.

“Where?!”

“C’mon dad...” I petitioned, stepping between them, because if this came to blows; I really didn’t want to be the one cleaning up.

“No; Lola. I want an explanation.” Dad cut in; his stony face making it clear he would not be argued with on this.

He turned his attention back to Eleven, who was currently stripping out of her coat; her face the silent image of petulance at the humble age of thirteen.

“Did you see Mike?” Dad asked; his tone making it seem more of an accusation than a question.

“He didn’t see me.” Eleven insisted, finally breaking her silence in order to engage him at the most basic of levels.

“Yeah... well; that mother and daughter did...” He retaliated, sweeping further into the room to confront her.

“And they called the cops...”

El didn’t respond; just gave him a look that harboured such bitterness, I doubted even I could match it.

“Now; did anyone else see you? Anyone at all?” He interrogated, getting up in her face as if she was some dirtbag in the cells.

“Dad...” I cautioned; I could see El’s gears were already grinding, but it didn’t matter.

“Come on; I need you to think...” Dad yelled; his face turning red.

“Nobody saw me.” El hissed; her eyes dark with a cold fury, but that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered to dad.

“You put us in danger...” Dad began to lecture; his anger barely contained beneath accusatory words.

“You put Lola in danger. You understand that right?”

But no; she didn’t understand that. She was a kid; she just wanted to get some air, but I don’t think that mattered to Dad.

“You promised... I go....” Eleven yelled; the words getting caught in her throat as she screamed them at him.

“And I never leave! Nothing ever happens!”

“Nothing ever happens and you stay safe!” Dad roared, meeting her word for word in red faced fury.

He reached up to pinch his nose; the clear sign a headache was coming on and that maybe he should give it a rest.

“Come on Dad...” I soothed gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s enough.”

He didn’t say anything; just sighed and rubbed his eyes in a worn tiredness, drawing attention to the fine lines across his face.

But Eleven wasn’t to be cowed so easily; teenage hormones alongside a general sense of indignation a nasty fuel for the anger within.

“You lie!” She spat; marching over to dad like she could take him on singlehandedly, and knowing her powers, she probably could.

“I don’t lie. I protect and I feed and I teach...” Dad ranted; his blooming headache forgotten in the slight of her insubordination.

“And all I ask of you is that you follow three simple rules! Three rules! And you know what?! You can’t even do that!” He yelled; his face turning from red to purple in the dim cabin light.

“Dad; that’s enough...” I stepped forward; once more taking my place between them because this was getting too heated, too fast.

“You’re grounded!” Dad yelled; ignoring me in favour of sticking an ultimatum on her before storming out of the room; his face that of a man on a warpath.

Eleven swung her foot into the drawers, kicking it with a loud thump that told me it must’ve hurt more than she was letting on.

“You know what that means?” Dad asked; his voice echoing from the other room as I crouched down in an attempt to soothe Eleven, well aware she was a ticking time bomb about to blow.

“That means no Eggos...” Dad ranted, and I could hear the fridge door open and close, then the sound of boxes being tossed into the trash.

“Really dad?” I asked; looking up at him incredulously, because he was really gonna do this like this?

He didn’t take any notice, already half way across the living room and making a beeline for the TV. Eleven spotted him first, striding past me to the doorway to make her stand.

“And no TV for a week.” Dad barked, attempting to lift the set in its entirety, but it wouldn’t budge.

Not when Eleven stood there holding it down with her mind; and what did he really think was gonna happen?!

“Alright; knock it off.” Dad said, straightening up to look her in the eye.

“Let go.”

Eleven shook her head; a thin stream of blood trickling from her nose in the effort, because goddamnit; we were nothing if not stubborn!

Dad tried to pull the TV up again, refusing to budge on her punishment, no matter how much she resisted.

“Okay. Two weeks.” Dad stated, before attempting to rip up the TV from the ground with sheer brute force.

“Dad; this is getting ridiculous...” I reasoned, but it didn’t matter.

Reason and ridicule were nothing when faced with Jim Hopper’s wrath.

“Let go...” Dad growled at Eleven, shooting daggers at her.

She just shook her head again.

“A month!” He announced, but that was finally too much for El.

“No!” She argued back; blood now trickling down across her lips and into her mouth.

“Well; congratulations. You just went from no TV for a month, to no TV at all.” He declared, marching over to the plug socket and wrenching the plug from the wall.

“No!” El screamed despair, rushing over to the TV in attempt to revive what was her sole companion most of the time.

“Eleven; sweetie, it’s okay...” I tried to reassure her as she desperately fiddled with the TV switch, unsuccessfully trying to turn it on.

“Don’t comfort her!” He demanded, shooting me a cutting look that had all my hackles on the rise.

“She’s got to understand that there are consequences to her actions...”

“She’s a child!” I reminded him, because someone here had to remember that.

He opened his mouth to spit something back, when Eleven interrupted.

“You are just like papa.” Eleven spat; tears in her dark eyes, blood trickling down her chin.

“Really? I’m like that psychotic son of a bitch?” Dad muttered, rubbing his brow frustratedly.

“You wanna go back to the lab?” He challenged her; eyes cold and unfeeling.

“Dad; don’t say that...” I warned coldly; already seeing he was leading himself down a path he didn’t want to tread.

“No; if that’s what she wants...” Dad interrupted; his eyes returning to Eleven, staring her down accusingly. “Because I can make that happen.”

“Dad; stop.” I warned; raising my voice, because I’d been here before on different circumstances, and I knew he was going to say something he’d regret.

“I hate you!” Eleven screamed; bitterness heavy in her voice.

“Well I’m not too crazy about you either.” Dad retorted, and I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to stop this; but my god, if I weren’t gonna try.

“Dad; that’s enough...” I cautioned, but he was on a roll where all paths ended at Eleven.

“You wanna know why? You’re a brat!” He snarled, digging the knife in a little deeper with every word.

“You know what that word means? Brat?”

He pulled a dictionary off the bookshelf, flicking through the pages with sardonic dedication.

“Well; that can be your word of the day. Let’s look it up...” He continued, tearing through the pages with vicious efficiency.

“Dad—“ I tried, but he interrupted, holding a hand up for silence.

“B-R-A-T. Brat.” He repeated, tossing the dictionary towards her, but she stopped it midair, allowing it to hover menacingly.

“Eleven; put that down...” I instructed, because I knew that look in her eye, and it didn’t mean anything good.

She tossed it back towards him, narrowly missing his head as it fell to the floor in a loud thump.

“Hey?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” He grilled, striding through the room towards her.

She used her mind to pull the couch forward, striking him hard in the shin.

“Hey?!” Dad exclaimed, but Eleven was already storming off to her room.

“Eleven...” I called after her, but dad had already beaten me to it, following after her at military speed.

“Hey!” He shouted, as a bookcase toppled down onto him, narrowly stopped by his outstretched arm.

“Hey! Hey!” He yelled after her as she slammed her bedroom door, causing the house to shake for the second time that night.

“Dad; stop...” I petitioned, making my way over to him as he attempted to open her door to no avail.

“Open this door!” He yelled, shaking the doorknob vigorously, despite knowing it would do nothing.

“Dad; come on, please...” I asked, finally reaching him and attempting to pry his hand off the doorknob.

He snatched it away angrily, before pounding on the door, yelling repeatedly.

“Open this door! Open this damn door!” He roared, pummeling the wood with his fists, and I swear I could hear sobbing on the other side.

“You wanna go out in the world?! You better grow up!” He spat, and I honestly couldn’t believe I was hearing such spite from my father; a grown man, for Christ’s sake!

“Grow. The. Hell. Up!” He screamed, slamming his fists into the door with every syllable.

“Dad; stop!” I yell; squeezing myself between him and the door, because I was honestly worried he was about to break the thing down.

I stared into his red face; his eyes ablaze with a fury I’d never seen before, and for a split second, I thought he might hit me.

Then Eleven screamed.

An ear piercing shriek that made your ears feel like they’re about to start bleeding. I clamped my hands over my head, trying to stop the sound from splitting my skull in two.

Both dad and I fell to our knees, and I could make out the sound of glass shattering and then beginning to fall down on us.

Dad sheltered me from the most of it; tiny shards spilling onto the floor in a mosaic of crystal.

And just when I thought my brain would burst from the pressure; it stopped, Eleven’s screams dimming into a sob through the wood.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things fandom #stranger things2 #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #jim hopper daughter #hopper daughter #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #jim hopper #hopper #jane hopper #eleven #eleven sister

[mobius-prime]

71. Knuckles the Echidna #3

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The Dark Legion (Book Three): Blood is Thicker

Writers: Ken Penders and Kent Taylor Pencils: Manny Galan and Andrew Pepoy Colors: Karl Bollers

This issue's intro page mostly just goes on about how Knuckles has to learn from the past to fight here in the present, so we'll just move right into the story.  Knuckles decides to use the Legion's fire idea against them, and recruits Vector's apparently incredibly eardrum-damaging headphones for the job, using the sheer volume of the music to blow the flames directly back at the pursuing soldiers.

Back up four hundred years, and there's complete pandemonium in Echidnapolis. The Dark Legion are flying all over the city and attacking, and the council is holding an emergency meeting to discuss the situation when Steppenwolf, now a confident and skilled guardian, walks in. Some of the council members want to blame him, but he decides to be the bigger person.

H-hey, bro, where did you get that laser gun? Aren't you guys supposed to be the no-tech crew? I kind of feel like a laser gun would go against those rules…

In any case, Steppenwolf believes that the only way to end the conflict is to come to a compromise between both parties, which is like, actually the most reasonable thing any of the ancient echidnas have said so far. Like, in all honesty, both sides suck. One side wants to drag everyone back to the dark ages over one single guy's overreaction to a scientific rejection, and the others are basically techno-terrorists attacking innocent people because they got their TVs taken away. Steppenwolf marches out after making his point, leaving the white-wigged councilman teary-eyed over how amazing and perfect he is. Normally I'd be making fun of the writing again but like yeah, Steppenwolf is honestly the coolest ancient echidna thus far.

Back in the present, Knuckles and the Chaotix steal some robes from the unconscious echidnas (well at least I assume they're unconscious, but they did crash their hovercraft directly into a forest fire…) and fly with the rest of the recalled craft to the Legion's base, which they're shocked to see, given that it's kind of… big, and well, very noticeable.

Remember, we're seeing all these flashback scenes, but Knuckles isn't - from what I can tell he doesn't know the entire story about Steppenwolf and all that old drama, so this is entirely new to him. Knuckles' father, still watching the whole thing from afar, finally sends Archimedes back to Knuckles to help him out. Knuckles, meanwhile, lands inside the base with his friends and proceeds into the Great Hall, where Kragok announces to the room that he's apparently found the Chaos Emerald, and starts rambling on about his evil plans and whatnot. Predictably, Knuckles speaks up. Damn, my guy, can't you at least just let him finish spilling his plans first before you jump right in?

Meanwhile, in the past, Steppenwolf has arrived at the Dark Legion's meeting place for a final confrontation of his own. Any hope of talking things out is dashed quickly when he's forced to disable a few assassins that the leader had training guns on him, so Steppenwolf takes the fight to the leader himself, ripping off his mask to reveal…

Oh come on, we all saw this coming. Menniker has apparently spent all his time since his father's death mourning and contemplating his next steps in life, until he saw a green light coming from the ruins of Mount Fate and interpreted it as a sign that he should follow in his father's footsteps. He's honestly gone a bit nuts since then, with bloodshot eyes and a crazy demeanor, and, unable to reason with him, Steppenwolf uses his Chaos powers to, uh… well he does something flashy looking, and Menniker and all his followers are sucked up into a green portal, leaving Steppenwolf and Christopheles somber about this ending, though they note that things likely aren't over yet.

Back to the present for a good example of that! A fight breaks out between Kragok and Knuckles on the stage, and when the soldiers in attendance try to help their leader out, the Chaotix jump into the fray as well. Watching from his monitors, Knuckles' father does some more Chaos-magic-stuff to help out.

Without his fighting force to back him up, Kragok makes a hasty exit, and Knuckles is unable to follow him in time to stop him. The base begins to fall apart around them, and Knuckles and the Chaotix are forced to make a run to escape.

When they emerge onto the surface of the island, everything is quiet, and there's no sign of the Legion. It appears they'll have to wait another day for answers - but in the meantime, they can prepare.

And so marks the end of this three-part series! The rest of the Knuckles the Echidna series continues on in the same way, with the entire thing (barring a few exceptions) being broken up into three-issue "episodes." We won't be seeing another one until the next era, but they'll be lasting for a little while once we get there!

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #kte 3 #era 2 the freedom fight #writer: ken penders #writer: kent taylor #pencils: manny galan #pencils: andrew pepoy #colors: karl bollers

[anthonylora]

Flash Fiction Friday 27 - Labyrinth

I decided to be a good noodle this week and participate! Thanks to both @stories-by-rie​ and @cawolters​! I felt inspired to connect this to my Catcher Files serial. It’s totally standalone, but gives you a small peek into a Carmen and Thandril adventure that takes place prior to where the serial starts.  This might work better as a regular short story... so I may expand on it later, but for now it’s a flash fic! Title: Extra Credit Length: 1000 words (pushing it!)

For the third time, Carmen almost tripped on the uneven flooring of the labyrinth. She groaned as she leaned against the wall, cursing her feet for struggling so much.

“Professor Taurus really should look into getting this place remodeled.” She looked at the bare stone walls surrounding them. “Or at least hire a decorator.”

“I think that would defeat the entire purpose of this place,” Thandril said.

Apparently, the whole purpose of said place was to be used as a training facility. “A good Catcher can think on their feet,” Taurus, their minotaur instructor, had said. “They’re capable of using their intellect to solve the many mind-bending tasks that come with interdimensional travel. If you want to protect the multiverse, you’ll have to be ready to handle new and unusual places.” He had pointed at several entrances. “You will pair up and enter the labyrinth. Those who can come out within the time limit will earn a passing grade. Extra credit will be given to the pair that emerges first.”

Carmen needed that extra credit. Catcher training was kicking her arse, and she really wanted a win of her own that didn’t involve bribery. Which is why she made the choice to start running down the corridors, gliding a gloved hand across the rough walls. She was thankful that for once, she exchanged her usual evening dress and heels for a comfortable henley, jeans, and hiking boots.

“Carmen, stay within the boundaries of the light.” She turned her head and saw Thandril lagging behind, holding the hem of his robes up with one hand and a torch in the other.

“You’d run faster if you dressed appropriately for it,” she said, echoing what her instructors told her almost every day of class. “Or does a wizard have to dress that way to do magic?” She slowed down enough for him to catch up.

“Of course not!” He panted, choking down several gulps of the musty air. “It’s how we get recognized though.”

Thandril was one of her few friends among the recruits. What she lacked in supernatural power, he had in spades. Which is why she was glad they were working together. Navigating the abysmally dark halls was much easier with a companion capable of making a light source appear out of nowhere.

“So,” Thandril said, “you seem pretty confident on where we’re going.”

Carmen couldn’t help the wry turn of her lips. She slowed down to a walk, deciding it’s best to conserve energy. “I guess I am. When I was younger, Daddy used to tell me stories. One was of an adventurer that had to navigate a labyrinth much like this one. Most who tried ended up perishing, but the adventurer had a plan. They were smart and patient and navigated the maze using the right-hand rule.”

Thandril coughed. “Right-hand rule, you say?”

Carmen froze and slowly turned her head to look at him again. He’d had that tone of voice he always used when he was on the brink of panicking. He often reminded her of a pet skiffur she once had. The fuzzball always got anxious whenever the sandstorms of her homeworld got too intense and pounded against the city’s force field. The only thing that would keep it from hyperventilating was placing it in her purse. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a purse big enough to hold Thandril.

“Yes. Basically, you put your right hand against a wall and follow it around the maze. You’ll hit some dead ends, but eventually you’ll hit the exit. If we walk at a brisk enough pace, we should beat out people using inferior methods.”

“Yes, but does it work if you switch to your left hand?”

“Of course not, it’s called the right-hand rule for a reason.” She started turning fully around, pointing accusingly at him. “How can that be any—” She stopped. Panic clutched her heart as she realized what hand she was pointing with and which one was still pressed against the wall. “Oh no.” This was more than embarrassing. “I must have kept using the left wall after tripping and catching myself on it.”

“That makes sense,” Thandril said.

Carmen nodded, seeing it in her mind’s eye as though she had witnessed it happening to someone else. If only that were the case.

Thandril gulped. “So now what?”

Carmen stared ahead. Should they turn around and try to find where she lost their path? That had to have been over twenty minutes ago now.

“Oh gods, are we lost?” The torch in Thandril’s hand started to dim. “Are we going to die?”

“We’re not going to die, so please calm down.”

The light faded further. He wasn’t listening. She looked back over at her own hand still pressed against the stone masonry. She growled before focusing on Thandril and his panic-stricken expression.

“For goodness’ sake, Thandril, we’re not lost.”

The flame on the torch brightened slightly. “Really?”

She nodded. She hated lying, so she hoped she could convince both Thandril and herself that she was telling the truth. “Just because the story had a right-hand rule, doesn’t mean we can’t make up a left-hand one on the spot. The professor did say we needed to think on our feet. Why, we’re practically pioneers.” Their odds of getting extra credit were slim, but passing was still an option. “So are you still with me?”

Thandril stared at her, seeming to contemplate something. Then he nodded and walked out in front of her, placing his left hand on the wall. The torch brightened, to the point that she could feel the heat of the flames chasing away a coldness she hadn’t noticed before.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, as he started walking again, head held higher than before.

And that was the other thing she liked about Thandril. If he, someone probably born to hold the title of Catcher, could have faith in her, then so could anyone else.

If you’re interested in reading Catcher Files, you can check out its current progress here.

#Flash Fiction Friday #writeblr #flash fiction #The Catcher Files #Carmen Santos #Thandril Whitlock #Professor Taurus

[rolltidewrestlingfan4life]

THIS IS VERY LONG AND VERY PERSONAL FOR ME. YOU MAY FIND IT AN ENJOYABLE STORY. I DID NOT PLAN TO WRITE A VIRTUAL NOVELLA BUT MY HEART AND SOUL STARTED POURING.

I didn’t do this back in February but this man deserves the mention and respect. This is the man that raised me. The man I idolize. He died February 5th as I was performing CPR on him or just before. I’m happy that he had a very quick and painless death that I believe he was expecting and prepared for. This man was born in New Hampshire and took a job in the 8th grade, he never returned to school and usually worked 2 jobs 6 days a week. His family moved back and forth between New Hampshire and Vermont. He got his first car when his brother’s car broke down, his brother traded him a 48 Ford for a bicycle.He loved riding his Indian motorcycle until a car slowed too fast  in front of him and he collided and flew over the top of the car, miraculously his only injuries were cuts and knocked out teeth. In 1955, he made the decision to join the US Air Force.It would be the decision that triggered his destiny, After completing basic training he returned home to New Hampshire, gave his brother his air force ring as a momento (I have it now) and headed to Savannah Georgia where he was stationed. 

431 miles away, in a booming coal mining town deep in the country of central Alabama, there lived a teenage girl in her senior year of high school. She didn’t really care for any of the boys in her town though she would “take them from their girlfriends to prove she could” She had an aunt and uncle that lived up in the big city in Birmingham, that is..until  her Uncle joined the Army. Ironically, he was station in Savannah.

As fate would have it, the man from Alabama met the young man from New Hampshire and they became friends. One day there was a special event at the base where family was invited, the teenage girl came with her aunt to see her Uncle. In the cool twilight of the day the girl was walking outside when she saw a man sitting on a bench beneath an oak tree. The tree was huge,it had stood for many decades if not a century, the tree had wisdom in it’s soul. She stared at the young man in the distance. The sun was fading as swamp moss swayed in the breeze as the night began to overtake the day. She saw a flicker of light as the young man lit a Lucky Strike with his zippo. “he looks just like Elvis Presley” she thought. Something in the breeze made her sneeze, try as she might she could not hold it in. The young man turned at the sound and stopped in his tracks. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever saw and he had to meet her. He approached her and introduced himself, he was the young man from New Hampshire. They spent a lot of that night sitting under that mighty oak and talking about their pasts, their presents and their hopes for the future.

Not long after the meeting, the man was deployed to Morocco in North Africa. Morocco had been under French control and the locals were ready for a revolution. He was a photographer, after a battle between the rebels and the french, he would either sit on the edge or hang from a cord out of a helicopter and take photos of dead bodies, destroyed buildings. He saw a lot of things a man just don’t want to remember while he was in Africa. When he was being sent home, the airplane he was in lost an engine over the Bermuda triangle, the plane struggled but managed an emergency landing in the Virgin Islands.. after a day there, he was in the air bound for Savannah.

He was pleasantly surprised and happy to see the girl from Alabama waiting when he and his fellow soldiers stepped off the plane. They went to the movies that day. They would talk on the phone and write long love letters to one another almost daily. I have a shoebox full of these and they span a month, It was clear these two were smitten. One weekend, he decided he had to see her. He went AWOL on a Friday night and drove almost 7 hours through a state he had never seen, to a town he had never heard of. The young girl’s mother had heard about him and knew he was her brother in law’s friend, she also knew her daughter was crazy about him. She invited him in for supper and to talk and get to know the family. When bedtime came though, the young man was made to sleep on the porch. Going AWOL on weekends to spend days in her house and nights alone on her porch became a regular thing until finally, he showed up one weekend with a ring. A week later, they were married in a small church that her family had established decades ago, He was called up to serve in the Bay of Pigs but received his honorable discharge just a week before. He flew to New Hampshire and kissed his momma, got his dad’s guitar (the only thing he had left of his father) and wished his brothers and sisters well. He flew back to his new home and his new wife in Alabama. He opened his own photography studio but business was slow, there just wasn’t a demand for professional photography in this town. He took a job with the owner of a gas station/general store at the end of Main Street, he worked 6 days a week,, delivering items, repairing things and installing huge propane tanks. In 1959, he and his wife had their first child, a daughter. A little boy came in 1961. His father in law was an electrician at the huge hospital in Birmingham Alabama, he got the young man a job in the maintenance department.

He learned much working at the huge University Hospital, he learned about electricity, he learned HVAC, he learned plumbing. He watched and soaked in everything. He was a long way away from the burning corpses he photographed in Africa, or was he? September 15 1963 seemed a usual day at work. Even a slow day, He was working in the attic area of the hospital, running ductwork, secluded from people or news. Around noon he got a call to immediately go to the morgue and repair a broken light. When he got there he climbed his ladder and fixed the light. With the room now bright, he realized he had illuminated bad memories and new sorrow, as he climbed down the ladder he looked down upon the charred and burned bodies of four young innocent girls. One was completely decapitated, barely recognizable as a human, another had metal embedded in her head. He could not fathom what he was seeing, he did not know what he felt. He only knew his heart was broken. He found out later these girls were murdered. The church they were attending sunday school at was bombed, an act of racism in the deep south in 1963. He hated it. This man never liked seeing someone innocent hurt or suffer. He also never saw color, he saw people for being decent or not. He was a part of history that day, however small a part it may have been.

After 5 years of working at the huge hospital in the magic city, he was told of a new, smaller hospital being built. It was closer to home and they were paying more to attract employees. He started in maintenance and engineering the day they hospital opened in 1964. Two months later, the director of plant operations resigned, this position was 3rd in command of the whole hospital and responsible for overseeing engineering, maintenance, and security. At only 26 years old,he was shocked when the position was offered to him. He accepted without hesitation. He was a nervous wreck but it fueled him. His wife took a job at the same hospital.

In 1982, his first grandchild was born, His son had a daughter. A grandson followed in 1984. In 1989, his daughter had her only son. To the man, there was something different about this kid, maybe it was his father not being around, maybe it was fate but the man decided he would mold this kid and raise this kid. He was closer to this kid than the other grandchildren. He fell in love with that baby and as he grew that baby became a kid and loved that man too. From then on out, they were absolutely inseparable.. I am that kid. We would ride dirt roads while Alan Jackson or George Strait, George Jones and Merle Haggard blaring on the radio. I was always the flashlight man. Deep in a dark crawlspace holding it while he worked on electrical wires.. just as he did I was watching, I was learning, I was soaking in his knowledge like a sponge. We would ride the country roads on the weekend, stopping at every yardsale and junkyard we’d pass. Oh, how I loved when we’d burn brush or leaves and watch the fire. We’d go fishing and somehow there was always a venomous snake and he always killed it with a wooden handle floating fishing knife. I still have that knife today.

His father in law had passed in 1984 and his mother in law’s health was failing, His wife retired early from the hospital in 2001 to take care of her. Her aunt and the Uncle that had arranged their meeting way back in Savannah were also gravely ill, she moved them in too. He kept working at the hospital,He was the man that made that place run. His mother in law passed in late 2001. In 2003, her uncle passed away. It had come full circle. He had made it possible for them to meet and they had returned the favor by caring for him, her aunt followed him in death shortly after.

By this time, his granddaughter had two daughters and he and his wife had been through a lot caring for 3 bedridden people for 3 years. When he received word that the huge hospital in Birmingham he had left 40 years ago was taking over the hospital, he retired. For the next 19 years, It was yard sales, brush fires, and working on houses. I was grown but I was still a kid, still watching his every move, still his helper, still his flashlight man. In 2017, he suddenly grew weaker. He still worked and pushed himself as hard as he could but something was wrong. He knew it. He just didn’t know what. Through 2018 I became the main repairman, he just couldn’t do it anymore. His leg and back had great pain. He lit the pilot light with me and all but collapsed as we exited the basement. His legs had grown week and just gave out on him. Later that day I had to repair something in the attic, I will never forget him saying “I’m sorry, I’d help you if I could, I’d even just hold your flashlight but I gotta say in my chair right now, you know what you’re doing son.” Neither of us spoke it, but that was a powerful moment.. He had called me son. All of my life, I never saw him as my grandad, though I did call him Papa. I called him dad from that day forward. Later that year, I bought a fuel pump for his truck, I love that truck. I bought new tires and got it running. When he saw it running, he told me “You did a good job getting her going son, take care of YOUR truck.” He knew he had grown old, his memory had began failing, his legs weakening. He had passed his role as the fixer around three houses, and he had passed his truck to me.

Through 2018 most of our time together was spent in his den, him in his recliner, me on the couch, nana in hers. We watched NASCAR, we watched every Alabama football game together, when nana was gone.. me and Papa would watch reruns of Gunsmoke, and Mash. He passed out at a store in late 2018 and was admitted to the hospital, all the test revealed nothing wrong, they attributed the pain to a nerve. On February 4 2019, He really wanted a haircut to the point the barber had to stay late to wait for us. It was a 15 minute drive to the barbershop and he and I talked, we talked about memories, we talked about friends who had died, and family who had died. His memory was sharp as a tack that day. On the way home, I asked him why he was in such a hurry for a haircut.. He reached over and put his hand on my knee, gave me a gentle pat.. his eyes.. the same eyes that had seen dead bodies in Africa, burnt little girls dead in alabama, that had seen 60 years of a wonderful marriage, 2 children, 2 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren, those same eyes looked at me. There was a focus yet a distance in them as he answered “I just felt like I needed to look good for tomorrow.”

The next morning, I woke up around 7 as usual and walked next door to their house, he wasn’t awake yet. He had started sleeping in, or just laying in the bed. It had gotten to where by the time he got up and got dressed, his legs were so weak he had to lay right back down. I got my coffee and visited with my grandmother a while and refilled my cup and went home. A couple hours later I had the strongest urge to go see him, as I got up I noticed my coffee cup was full. “He’s probably not up yet, I’ll wait until all my coffee is gone then I’ll see him.” That was a decision I will always regret.

Maybe 30 minutes later, As I was listening to the The Rolling Stones through my headphones, I heard the sound of my little cousin screaming. She was outside running toward my house just screaming help and crying at the top of her lungs. I ran outside and she yelled it’s papa. The whole world became a blur. I knew nothing. Nothing was familiar. It was so fast yet so slow. All I knew was I was me, and he was him. I loved him. He was my life and I was his. I had to get ti him. I ran faster than I ever dreamed I could, I didn’t even notice doors or steps.. Though I had to have somehow seen them. Everything was blur. I was here, he was there. It felt like an hour but it was really less than a minute. I got to him. There he was, laying on his back in front of his bedroom door. As soon as I saw him, his words about his haircut the day before played in my mind. I knew he was gone. He was my Papa, my dad, my friend, my teacher, my everything. I had to try and bring him back. I immediately started cpr. 911 advised me to do mouth to mouth as well, when I did, I tasted blood. I never stopped cpr. I knew je was gone. In that moment, his kid finally became a man. I felt different, I finally felt just like him. My Mind 2 months later is still in the floor with him. Today, I let that go. He would want me too. He would say sometimes, well we tried everything.. that thing just can’t be fixed. A couple nights ago I had a dream, so vivid. It was an exact replay. I was over his body desperately performing CPR, suddenly, in the dream.. he appeared and pulled me away from his own body. It was clear this was his spirit as he put his arm around me and hugged me and said “It just gave out on me, you tried everything, that old thing just couldn’t be fixed.” He lived an amazing life. The world will not remember nor remark him but today I celebrate him. I celebrate him for going from an 8th grade education to an air force photographer to spending 40 years as director of engineering at a hospital. I celebrate him for being a rock who always helped his family or those in need.  I celebrate him for picking me. It’s no secret I was his favorite. He never tried to hide it, not to spite the others. This man loved all of his grandchildren equally.. There was just something different with me. It was like we were twins. We were just inseparable. I write all this to celebrate him and to let him go. My mind must stop trying to bring him back. He lived his life and he is now free from pain and a failing body. He is learning all the mysteries, he is getting all the answers so that he can teach me when I get there. I love you so much Papa, your soul is in heaven, but your spirit is in me. I see you in my eyes, I wear your belt buckle and I use your tools. I drive our truck. Your fingerprints are everywhere. It’s okay that you’re not here in your body. You’ve left a mark on everything. You will always be alive in us. I wish you had lived until I had children, I know you liked the young lady I wish would be mine.I can’t wait until I do have children and I can tell and show them all about their amazing Papa. 

Heaven needed a jack of all trades engineer, they got you. Have fun up there, I’ve got it down here, I learned from the best and you taught me well. I will take care of nana, the houses and the rest of the family and hopefully one day I’ll do what you did and move and marry the girl of my dreams. I hope you get to watch my life from up there, and I hope I make you proud.

-JLM

[bumblingtravels]

11. Venice

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Venice

June 8th, 2018

Where to begin with our Venice adventure, the only thing I’ll say for sure is that it’s clearly the greatest city in the world and I want to live here forever. Barbara’s bed is the comfiest thing ever, and despite the dull day before we treated ourselves to a well deserved lie in - what? we’re students!

Emerging into the Italian day we went in search of a bakery and soon discovered that all of Italy decides to snooze on a Friday, and honestly? Mood. Deciding ‘who needs a well balanced breakfast?’ - see above ‘we’re students’ - we went to the geleteria that was open last night well past 11pm. We had the most Italian student breakfast ever a mega ice cream and cheesecake - lilikoi for me of course - that turned out to be the best ice cream an cheesecake either of us had ever had - that justifies it right?

The floating city of Venice is only a quick 30minute train ride away, quickly passed in one of the most comfortable trains ever - Crewe would never! The approach to Venice via train is magical in itself. The train track spans across a bridge allowing you a crystal clear view of the floating city and its many boat-owning inhabitants. As the buildings slowly get larger, we finished our approach into he city and set out for what would be one of my favourite days yet.

The train stations exits directly onto the boardwalk spanning the Grand Canal. For miles all you can see is boats, bridges and evidence of a bumbling tourism industry. We walked across the great stepped bridge that greets you and adeptly swerved around the characteristics paddlers who only seem tot know the words “selfie sticks”. On the other side of the bridge we visited a couple of gift stands and purchased another lot of leather bracelets because let’s face it, are you really a traveller if you don’t have at least three bracelets on at al times. A quick top for the toilets at one of the grandest burger kings I’ve ever seen - where I proved myself as an able pickpocket to get to the toilet code - we started our Venetian Ventures.

Venice is without a doubt one of the greatest and most beautiful cities ever. Already I’m hatching plans to get super rich and buy the whole island, but something tells me that might not exactly be plausible - plots of world domination never seem to work in the movies.

We spent an absolutely lovely day simply walking up and down the streets of Venice. My Duke of Edinburgh leader would’ve been proud as I easily navigated us all around and back again with having a map.

Along our adventure we stopped in lots of different shops ranging from masquerade specialists to Murano glass makers to the run of the mill tourist shops - you know, you’re post cards, magnets and cheap knock-off products that fall apart as soon as you get home bu try then what’s the point? The journey was also broken up by many photoshops as each bridge, building and canal combination got better and better - not to mention our branded rainbow pictures, can’t be neglecting the aesthetic.

As few hours into the Venetian venture, we found ourselves in the wildest of situations, we went into a masquerade mask shop and had a cheeky look around before spotting the shop keeper. He was a sweet little Italian man who makes all the masks in his shop and he showed us the one he was working on at the moment. It was all very sweet and really interesting and I brought a small hand-made fridge magnet off him as a sign of appreciation and a memento of the lovely city. Now, here’s where bizarro-land descends. He kept showing us masks to try and sell them to us, which fair enough that’s just tactics. But, at one point he got Meg in a mask and proceeded to drag a big ‘ole cloak around her in order to show us how you would dress for an actual masquerade festival.

 Following this, he took my phone and Meg unexpectedly found herself i the middle of a Venetian fashion show. We left the shop with one fridge magnet gained, yet several questions raised. As I said, wild.

Escaping the unexpected bambeezling shop, we continued on one Venice exploration with yet more breathtaking canals and bridges. It was around the seventh bridge and third patch of canal that we truly started to fall in love with this magical place and move our plans of retirement - after world domination of course - to this beautiful city.

Another ultimate selling point of Venice is their apparent obsession with cats - who can blame them they truly are the greatest. Every shop seemed to be selling a variation of cats dressed in elaborate outfits like some sort of Assassin’s Creed stealth mission : Cat Edition. I sent one such fancy-shmancy cat postcard to my parents which showed Perseus’s - again the cat not the demigod - new career or potential past life, who knows what that jazzy boy got up to.

Moving on from the cat shrine a couple more bridges and canals later - and about twenty gondola sitings - we stumbled upon one of Venice’s most well-known attractions. Let’s be honest by this point my confident navigation was basically a charade, or a masquerade *wink wink*, so I was as surprised at finding the Rialto Bridge as Napoleon was at being defeated by a little chill - read harsh Russian winter but that analogy doesn’t work as well so it’s being changed.

Taking the required pictures of the Rialto Bridge, we climbed over and spent some time admiring the beauty that is Venice.

Now that concludes the first chapter of our picturesque Venetian Venture. You know how part twos are always slightly disappointing and not as good as part one or three; see. Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, all of Twilight - well brace yourself for a story of hardship, strife and woe.

It all started with a restaurant called Ganesh…

Earlier in the day, between the fourth and sixth bridge, we found a cute little restaurant that had a terrace by the river, all the pasta and pizza and most of all… student prices. Meg somewhat successfully navigated us back to the restaurant, and really our first clue should have been how empty it was. Deciding that it was still a bit early and someone has to be the first person, we went ahead and sat down. We ordered and settled in by the river surrounded by potted plants.

The food was amazing, but that is very much a side note to this epic saga. This place doubled as a curry house and all the other guests seemed to be Indian and they all got a curry menu that was not offered to us. When we finished the meal, we must have waited an hour for the plates to be cleared - a couple who arrived and ordered food after we finished left before we got served. Asking for the bill we gave up waiting and just walked up to the bar to pay - there was another British family there looking very baffled and I almost wanted to scream to them to ‘run, save yourself’! Getting the check they charged us €5 for two and a half breadsticks. We went to the toilet before we left, and had our revenge by smuggling out all the paper towels that will serve us well during our picnics.

Overall, a good meal but not worth the money and would be much nicer with some service - preferably but just some old greasy man and a lady in just a bra.

  Licking our Ganesh wound, we headed off in pursuit of ice cream. Finding an adorable gelateria by the river, we had a grade cone each and sat on the pier to enjoy the nighttime lights of Vencie.

Venice is absolutely magical at night, with dark blue lights and lanterns reflected by the Grand Canal. We wandered up and down the river soaking in the beauty as we waited for our train home. I will always maintain that one of my favourite things is European holiday nights.

A quick journey saw us back at the apartment and we quickly packed before Meg made herself a map blanket and we settle din for our last night in Barbara’s little AirBnB.

- Mira Sophia

#bumblingtravels #mirasophia #venice #italy #venezia #mogliano veneto #interrailing #Inter-railing #train #travel #travel blog #europe #gondola #rialto bridge

[captainsimagines]

Mistletoe Cart - Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Bucky Barnes x Reader (ONE-SHOT)

In which Bucky has a whole lot of fun watching you in the days that lead up to Christmas.

Warnings: FLUFF!

Word Count: 2,630

A/N: Happy Holidays, you guys. I hope this warms your heart and makes you smile. 

The first time Bucky saw you was on a cold Thursday morning. December 21st, to be exact. He had gotten up at 6am and went for a walk outside the tower, sneaking passed security like he did every morning before.

He ordered a bagel and a large coffee and had barely turned around with his full hands when he jumped out of your way. You scurried and ducked through the crowd of people, cursing at yourself for being late again. Bucky just watched you run and heard the mumbled “sorry’s” you exhaled. He chuckled, not thinking much of the small encounter. He returned to his bagel and coffee, shaking his head with a small smile tainting his lips. 

You hadn’t planned on being late again. It wasn’t your fault the only place you could afford to live equated to a ten-minute walk to the subway station and a thirty-minute train commute. Most times, you missed your train and had to wait for the next one. Except, there were five days until Christmas. New York City was packed anyway, but it seemed that during the holidays the number of people multiplied. 

You speed-walked into your office building, dodging your boss’s morning glare and the multiple loose Christmas decorations catching onto your messy hair. You wouldn’t call it a habit, being late and all, but you were definitely known for it. Every morning your curls became slightly damp with sweat or your eyeshadow would smudge. It was simply another morning everyone (including you) had gotten used to. You weren’t the only battered one, and you sniggered each time a co-worker came in hung-over and late after you. Honestly, you were surprised this whole office hadn’t gotten fired.

The second time Bucky saw you was the very next day, December 22nd. A new sheet of snow coated the streets and somehow you managed to sprint without slipping. It was odd that it was snowing so early on Winter, but the ‘white Christmas’ feeling was warm and calming nonetheless.

Bucky ordered his usual, glancing around himself as he casually waited for his change. You ducked and swerved away from the sea of people, even jumping over ice patches. Bucky quickly crossed over to the side he had exited the tower from, this time wanting to catch a glimpse of your face. You bumped into someone and apologized, your speed and jitters never faltering. Bucky grinned at you like a mad man, his cheeks full of bagel. You darted passed his towering stature, not paying attention to his awareness of you at all. You literally dove into the subway station. Bucky finished his bagel, the image of your red nose and cheeks causing his to change shades as well.

The third time he saw you was on the same day, still December 22nd, except it was dark out and you were barely coming home from work. You emerged from the same subway station you threw yourself into every morning. You were exhausted, the numbers you punched into the computer all day still floating around your boggled mind.

You weren’t running, which was an odd thing for Bucky to witness. Instead, he ordered a coffee and squinted his eyes to make sure it really was you. You ran a hand through your hair, huffing and puffing as your legs became heavier by the second. The cold New York air bit at your exposed neck and you were certain the only time you forgot your scarf would result in a terrible cold.

Bucky waited until you passed by the vendor and then followed you, keeping a reasonable distance between the two of you. He didn’t know why he was following you and he even tried to turn around, but a simple glance at you was enough to stick him. Finally, you walked up to an apartment complex and went inside. Bucky sighed in content, seeing as you only lived five minutes away from where he was staying- only one minute if he sprinted.

The third day but the fourth time he saw you, the streets were less crowded. December 23rd, and it was snowing. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep people locked inside for the whole day. Bucky struggled to get out of bed but he wanted to see you run passed him like you did each morning for that week. He quickly slipped on some sweats and a sweater, tugging his heavy boots on one-by-one as he stumbled toward his bedroom door. On the way down, he simultaneously brushed his teeth and cleaned his eyes. Quickly checking to see if he brought his wallet, Bucky threw his toothbrush to the side and ducked to the floor when security opened the door. Now on all fours, Bucky crawled to the glass doors and slipped through. 

You stumbled out of your building, gripping your coat tighter and rubbing at your stuffed nose. You sniffed but continued to jog around each corner.

Bucky ordered a muffin this time but kept his coffee the same. He was already looking for any sign of you. A small glimpse would make his heart flutter. You rounded the corner and Bucky hurried to the other side. He took in your appearance- slightly disheveled, your nose inflamed, but still as beautiful as he could imagine. Bucky quickly rummaged through his pockets and pulled his small pack of tissues out, holding his muffin and coffee in his metal hand. You had slowed down, speed walking instead. Bucky waited until you were close enough to offer you a tissue. 

“Uh, miss?” 

You looked up and locked eyes with the handsome stranger, his arm extended with a single tissue. You giggled slightly, smiling as you grabbed the soft paper. You thanked him and continued walking to the subway. Once you were sure he couldn’t see you anymore, you raised the tissue up to your nose and got down to business. 

December 24th, Christmas Eve. This time, Bucky planned everything. He ordered two coffees, one for him and one for you. He assumed you took three sugars and half-and-half, a simple delight he thought you wouldn’t refuse. Bucky waited patiently, his sleepy posture evident but nonetheless worth it. You rounded the corner, huffs of cold air leaving your mouth with each step. Once again, you were speed walking but surprisingly you weren’t late this morning. However, you wanted to catch your train on time in case something were to happen on your way there. That’s exactly what did happen.

“Uh, Miss?” Bucky cleared his throat. 

You turned to the same handsome stranger from yesterday; the only two words he spoke to you now making your stomach stir. 

“Yes?” You scanned him up and down, observing his movements just in case. 

“I-uh... I got you a coffee.” Bucky held the hot cup out for you to take. You were skeptical, as demonstrated by your hesitant eyes that bounced from the coffee to Bucky. 

“I didn’t do anything to it!” Bucky quickly interjected. “I just see you run passed every morning and I thought you’d like some coffee.”

Bucky hid his lips, his smile so thin and drenched with embarrassment that you almost felt obligated to take the cup and chug it in front of him. 

“Oh! Thank you, that’s really sweet of you to do,” you grinned, taking the cup from him and relishing in the warmth that spread through your tiny fingers. You thanked Bucky once again and walked away. Bucky mumbled a happy and giddy “you’re welcome” as you left, watching as you descended into the subway.

You kept the cup between your trembling hands, still not sipping from it. Once you reached your building and stepped into your ‘jolly’ office, you took the first sip. You figured it would be safe to fall and die from possible poisoning in a place where you had friends than in the middle of a crowded subway. After a few minutes of non-existent side effects, you happily chugged the coffee. You cursed at yourself for waiting so long to enjoy this small and random act of kindness. 

“You made a coffee run without getting my order?” Jessica groaned as she walked up to your desk. You looked up from your work and smiled at her. 

“Actually, it was an early Christmas present.”

Jessica snorted, “Early? Tomorrow’s Christmas. I’d say that’s pretty late.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to typing. You glanced at the coffee cup near your keyboard, the smile straining your cheeks becoming permanent and apparently the newest ‘jolly’ thing in the office. 

The sixth time was the night before Christmas, still December 24th. You practically crawled out from the subway station, wiping your nose against the sleeve of your sweater. You stopped at a vendor anyway considering you had skipped dinner. You ordered a burger and fries and reached into your bag for your wallet. 

Bucky had appeared behind you unexpectedly. He stared at the back of your head in awe, clearly not expecting to see you again. He could have sworn your voice was angelic, the basic words you pronounced had him at a loss of words himself. You handed the vendor the money and waited for him to wrap your things.

It was now or never. Christmas Eve certainly effected Bucky because the colorful lights hanging from the vendor cart warmed his stomach and had him rocking back and forth. Bucky cleared his throat, ruffling his hair before you turned around. 

You were startled to see him, to say the least. He had to be from around here. Maybe he lived in the same building as you, you thought. Although your mind was scattered, you still managed to give him your signature smile. 

“I didn’t know you would be here at this hour.”

You raised an eyebrow. Bucky shut his eyes and breathed in, obviously mad at himself for forming that sentence as his first. 

“What do you mean?” you chuckled, thanking the vendor as you grabbed your food. 

Bucky’s eyes widened when you responded. He suddenly realized he was coming off as a major creep. 

“Wait, no!” Bucky stuttered, looking up at the sky in horror. 

You crossed your arms and smirked, “Are you stalking me?”

Bucky legit died. 

“Because it’s fine if you are. Being stalked by an Avenger is both reassuring and weird,” you sniggered, turning to walk home. Bucky forgot about food at that moment, following you like a lost puppy. 

“You know who I am?” You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“At first, I didn’t but I pieced two and two together,” you responded, looking around the empty street. “So, are you stalking me?”

“No! No, I am not!” Bucky laughed, ruffling his hair again. 

You laughed as well, “Good, because I was getting nervous.”

This had to be the best Christmas Eve Bucky had lived through in the past 100 years he had been alive. 

“I get coffee every morning and I see you scurry through the crowd every time,” Bucky finally admitted. The red tinting your cheeks became noticeable so you turned away, grinning stupidly at the floor. 

“Oh,” you mumbled, bringing your empty hand up to your face and covering it. 

Bucky bit his lip and smiled wide. “Don’t worry, I think it’s adorable.”

“That doesn’t help with the redness, Barnes.”

Bucky laughed loudly this time. You began walking again, Bucky following you with every step. 

“You know my name. What’s yours?”

You peeked through your fingers and scrunched up your nose, “Y/N.”

Bucky died again. The very mention of your name seemed to place all the missing pieces of the puzzle together. Bucky huffed and watched his breath in the wind, the smile on his face permanent. 

“Bucky.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky,” you smiled, turning the corner to your apartment complex. 

“You live five minutes away from me,” Bucky mentioned, helping you put the key into the keyhole. 

“Avengers tower, huh? Pretty fancy. If I were you, I wouldn't leave.”

Bucky chuckled and held the door open for you. “It’s worth it if I get to see you throw yourself into the subway every morning.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you almost dropped your dinner. 

“With a coffee in my hand, of course,” Bucky finished, smirking at your flushed cheeks for what seemed like the thousandth time that evening. 

“I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,” you muttered, ignoring the rumble of your stomach. 

Bucky smiled brightly, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

It was Christmas morning and instead of enjoying your coffee at home, you slipped on anything that was on your bedroom floor and flung your purse over your shoulder. You didn’t have work but you were still determined to see Bucky.

Rushing to the familiar cart of morning pastries, you couldn’t contain the excitement you were feeling. It was as if you were a child again, rushing down the stairs on Christmas morning to open the presents ‘Santa’ had left for you. Seeing the cart in plain sight was equivalent to seeing the cookies bitten into and the milk half drunk. Watching the snow land gently on the sidewalk was equivalent to seeing your stocking filled to the maximum. And seeing Bucky standing there with two coffees in his hands was better than any present you had ever received. 

“I feel like I’m too excited to see you this morning,” you admitted, jogging up to him. Bucky smiled at you, chuckling at your statement. 

“Considering you met me yesterday, I would say so,” Bucky said, his heart skipping a beat when you scoffed at him. 

“Thank you for the coffee,” you said, sipping it happily. “Oh, and Merry Christmas!”

“It’s Christmas?” Bucky exclaimed, catching the attention of a few people walking passed. You threw your head back and laughed. 

“Yes, it is!” 

“Wow, who would have guessed?” Bucky grinned, his confident and flirtatious attitude having revived at that moment for the first time since before the war.

The cart vendor cleared his throat and went back to minding his own business, but not before winking at Bucky and nodding his head. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at Bucky. 

“What was that about?”

Bucky sipped his coffee and acted as if he didn’t hear what you said. His eyes wandered upward.

A slight gasp escaped your mouth when you saw the elaborate mistletoe hanging from the rundown cart. If your cheeks had gotten any redder, you were sure to pass out. 

“Oh, I see,” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at Bucky. 

“Should we honor the tradition?” Bucky asked, stepping closer to you. 

You relished in the expanse of your lungs and shaking of your hands. “We can’t break tradition.”

Bucky felt the whole world shift and the moment his lips touched yours was the moment his world stood still. Your lips glided across his in a chilly yet pleasant kiss. Both chapped but lovely, each time you two separated slightly resulting in your lips sticking together momentarily. Your hands, although one occupied, landed on his shoulder and wrapped around his neck while Bucky’s wrapped around your waist. He pulled you in closer, savoring the taste of your chap stick and you the taste of his vanilla flavored coffee.  

As you leaned away, your noses brushed softly and both your bodies instantly relaxed. It was almost as if the cold air avoided you, the warmth of your breath enough to overpower it. 

Resting your foreheads against one another, you spoke. “I didn’t get you a Christmas present.”

Bucky snorted and pulled you in for another quick peck. “Dinner tonight?”

“That can be arranged,” you smiled, leaning in to continue honoring your new favorite Christmas tradition. 

A/N: AWWWWWW, FLUFF ALL AROUND! 

TAG LIST: @4theluvofall @sumafamouxx @ihavemymomentsstill 

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #christmas #feel good #love #mistletoe #avengers au #avengers x you #Avengers #Winter Soldier #winter solider imagine #captainsimagines

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 31-Emergency Exit

Eternal thanks to my peeps-come scream at me, send me the songs this brings to your mind, or tell me who Melly should pick....

I never wore the ear muffs. I didn't mind heading from whatever place we were hitting hard and fast before sleeping or loading onto a bus with fuzzy ears. I loved the music and the sound of the screams. Even the ones of my brother's name. Really, I loved the energy of the tens of thousands of girls who came out to see them. When it was Harry's name they were chanting my feelings were so paradoxical you could call me Oscar Wilde, the only thing i couldn't resist was temptation. And Harry looked bloody tempting. The volume seemed to agree with me. It was so loud, the screams so deafening and ecstatic, that I was wearing ear muffs, so that when I went back to the hotel, with the man making everybody scream, I could hear his. The paradox was while It irked me to hear so many rapturous voices call his name, it thrilled me too. Made me feel like my alter ego, who Harry had named Harmony. Outwardly sexy and daring, and smug. Smug that he was mine. It turned me on that he could set a huge room to a simmer. I was aware that many of these girls would happily go home with any of the boys at the drop of a hat, or a belt, but that Harry was the one they hollered for, fantasized for, but I was the one who got to undo him, in every way, had me boiling. In Phoenix that night, it was on a whole other level. He'd forgotten his precious head-scarf at the hotel. If I thought unwinding it for his was a rapture, I wasn’t prepared for the rhapsody playing before me. "Leave it, H!" I d assured him for the dozenth time. "It's a weird length," he complained again. I wasn't sure there was a strong enough way for me to disagree verbally, so I decided to show him that actions were louder than words. I walked over to him and ran my palm up the back of his neck and into the collected curls creating his shoulder. I gripped the flowing chestnut mane and turned him to me. I'd been the instigator by this point, but perhaps not the aggressor, but the way he looked inspired me. Once o had his head at an angle that approached favorable, I pressed my mouth to his and immediately swiped my tongue against his fuller bottom lip. He gasped at my uncharacteristic move and it gave me time and opportunity to press deeper and wetter into him. I licked over his tongue and flicked his upper lip as I pulled away before biting his bottom lip. He looked at me breathless with blown pupils. "It's not a weird length." I put my other hand into the mop of curls and pulled lightly and a little harder when he moaned. I pressed to his ear. "It's pretty." "Pretty?" He wanted to look offended, but he knew he was a pretty specimen. "Pretty, hot, sexy," I ran my hand over his shoulder and chest and hooked my hands into the waistband of his blue jeans where they met the thin white shirt he wore.  "Like I can't wait until we get back to our room tonight." The twenty minutes till stage had already been sounded, but my words lit Harry's wick and the house fire I'd started was too far gone to control. His hands found the backs of my thighs and he hooked me up his hips and pivoted to drop me onto the vanity top. We weren't even in a room, anyone could walk in, but his fingers were already pushing my pants to the side and I had his belt open. The kiss I'd lifted off of him had done its job for both of us. I wondered if Harry was half hard all the time, except when he had just finished. It was how I always found him. I was not always wet, but I was a light switch in his presence. Slow gravel in his words, turned on, finger trail over my skin,  "Melody." spoken in the right tone. All of these things were as easy as flicking on a water faucet. This situation hit a couple of buttons I wasn't even aware of. Gemma was here, along with the whole touring company. The idea of Harry's big sister walking in on his taking me in the open was the fear ringing in my head and bringing shivers to my skin, the temptation I couldn't resist. "I think you started something by fucking me at your mum's house." He slid to a stop when his hips hit the wood top on a grunt and I whined, "what did I start now?' He pulled down my bottom lip with his fingers and licked into my open mouth. His hands found my hips and pulled me to balance on the ledge of the countertop. It rattled underneath us. The edge dug into the flesh of my ass and I knew there would be a red line there. It let him get deeper into me, to meet my end, which was nearly all of him. So I traded the discomfort for the sensation. My head fell back on my neck when he gave me a rough one. "Melody," "Hmmmm," I moaned and heard him chuckle. "What did I start?" he pulled my chin back to parallel so he could see me. I blushed, which was hilarious because he was balls deep in me. "Apparently," I ducked my chin, "I like the idea of getting caught." His left check quirked and I slapped his face a little then squicked when I heard someone call his name. Harry didn't stop,  but I wasn't there anymore. The idea of capture was much more alluring than the reality. I realized it was a security guard, Tom, maybe and that he was getting closer. I planted my feet on harry's hip and yanked back my own pushing harry out of me. He gave me a look like I'd taken candy from him, the big baby. He was standing between my legs, the both of us panting and the heavy footfalls were upon us. Harry righted my dress and zipped up. "How am I supposed to go out there like this?" He looked to the sky for an answer, but I had one ready for him. I leaned into his ear, "You use it....All the energy and give them a great show." Then I pulled back and gave him my own smile fit for a cat full of cream. "And you remember that I'm all over you so i can have all the energy that's left over. Change your shirt." I pulled it over his head. "Go." He took off running, promising he was ready, even as he was shirtless and had red marks on his neck. I sat on the vanity top and breathed until I was brave enough to look into the mirror. My hair was a bit of a mess, though I didn't really recall him touching it and I was less mussed than I felt. My arm hair was still standing on end though and my dress felt heavy pressed to my tingly skin. Maybe that's why I needed the ear muffs that night. Everything was heightened for me. My senses stayed on alert, like they knew he wasn't finished with me. That made me smile. Harry wasn't finished with me, and I wasn't nearly done with him. Since that first taste, I was fairly certain I hoped we never reached the end of our shared path. Things were better, he had had a full few days off and he'd slept and his optimism filled us both with helium as we floated high on what we had and ignored the things we didn't.    And we still had time. Two more months of tour and Harry had convinced me to spend a few weeks together in London and we were making plans for Christmas. We were going to spend Christmas together! Maybe! I bit my lip and made my way side stage. Harry always called me angel, but that is what he looked like with his cascade of curls. An angel in fitted blue jeans with a devil smile and plans for me. We made plans that night in bed. "So,  I figured that maybe you can stay with me, at my house in London. If you want to you can even stay through Christmas. I think I have some business in LA." He yawned into my hair. "But you can come with me." "How are you still awake, H? You should get some sleep." How did I tell him there was no way I could extend my time away from Australia for a full two months and that it would break my mother's heart if I missed Christmas entirely, after being away for months on end. I loved him, and I wanted to be with him, but I missed my family. We would just have to talk about it after he had got a goods night rest. "No, I don't wanna sleep." He whined like he did when he was beyond exhausted or tipsy. I tuned over to him. "I can hear you are tired, baby." he sighed and buried his head in my neck. "It's just been such a good day. Feel better than I have in ages, and I miss talking to you." "I'll be here in the morning," I promised. But I wasn't. My brother called me about some hair crisis. "I told you, no bleach without me!" I whined while I picked at his straw like hair. I was gonna have to go borrow shears from Lou to fix this mess. "Whatever, this is basically the only way to get you out of Styles' bed." Michael complained and I caught more than bitching in his voice. "so," I responded. Texting Lou to head over. "He is my boyfriend." I reminded watching the three grey dots appear. "Yeah, Stench, we know, we all know. Can't miss the way you two are always pawing at each other." He scoffed. "What? Like it’s better that you are always wrapped around some girl who is as disposable as the condom you use!" I don't know why what he was saying was bothering me. I thought he was on board the Helly train, or at least he was ok with it. "Oh, like your boyfriend used to do!" He looked at me with the venom only a sibling can have. Like he wished me dead and I was his worst enemy at this moment, but probably not tomorrow. "Used to do. Operative phrase! Fuck you, Mick-fix your own shit." and I turned to leave. "I give him a month when you are back in Aus to be looking for Victoria's Secret. Tiger's Stripes, and Leopard's Spots!" He called after me while I passed a bewildered Lou in the hall. Stomping back to mine and Harry's room. I walked in in a huff and saw him sitting at the breakfast I'd ordered him when I left to come around when he needed to be up. I hoped he had thrown on some boxers, but I guessed not, because he had on a robe, which meant he was naked. And as much as I usually loved naked HArry, the idea of anybody, event he bloody room service, seeing him naked but me was pissing me off. "So, did Michael dye his hair black of something." I laughed a little as I'd gone on a tirade one night when my brother asked for black hair because then he would just want pink and be pissed I couldn't get all the pigment out. "No, he got into the bleach without me, didn't even put any sweetener in, so his scalp is tender, and its gonna need to be cut off." I huffed over and took te coffee he had made for me. I smiled at him. He was so sweet, not a filthy fucker like my brother. "Ok...." Harry looked at me expectantly. "Why are you so upset about it, and why didn't you fix it." He pulled me down onto his lap. "H!" I said, "I don't think I can do this with you naked." "You do everything with me naked." He raised a brow I huffed, "We got into it." I took a sip and scalded my mouth. "Fuck!" Harry handed me some water and took my mug. My 'M' mug. This boy loved me, he wouldn't cheat on me. "I just need to calm down. He's a wanker." and I cuddled into him and remembered how wonderful he was and didn't say a word about extra-vehicular activities like the bus sex he had used to have or my fears about being apart. Because we were going to be apart. That may have been the biggest argument we ever had. Harry even walked out. "Why can't you come? just come be with me in London, Melody! It's not like you have anything going on back in Australia."

My face fell and was red like a matador’s cape. His comment hit home, right on my bull’s eye.That was a big problem I was having within myself. My gap year had turned into nearly two, and I was still no closer to knowing what I wanted to do. Uni seemed farther away and I wasn't sure what I'd study. I thought there would be loads of time to write on tour. But, other than love notes to harry and text messages, I hadn't committed a word to paper in 18 months. I hadn't been able to. That realization made me gasp. So much for a big life and grand love being inspiring. I'd seen the whole world, and felt things fit to inspire Ovid, but I wasn't mining them, or even using them. I'd learned a lot since I'd been around Lou and Lottie, but it wasn't my 'thing' like it was theirs. I did it as an easy gig. Harry had told me once I was too smart to 'just' do hair and that felt like such a put down to people meant for that. But, he was right. No amount of highlighter of red lipstick would ever fill up the questions my brain was always asking. Also, something that I was ashamed to admit even to myself, I was jealous. I may not have committed anything to paper. but Harry had. He had been writing more and more, at first with other people, and more and more, himself. I'd started it, to be fair. When I had bought him his first leather bound journal and I'd felt proud to watch it get all scuffed up and filled. Now he was buying his own and showing me snatches of songs all the time. I'd cried when he's showed me the last one. It was so good, so beautiful, and full of us. Snatches of our relationship, words, and my own heartbreak. He'd written me a song, and he told me there were so many more that might as well have been called Melody in his hide bound pensieve. We'd made love after he sang me that song on the guitar he was laboriously learning to play, and I felt like we were both home, in the place he built us out of words. It was flattering and romantic to be Harry's muse. But I had hoped he would be mine. When I figured we were to be temporary, or a lark, or just friends, it was how I had justified the time and pain I might experience. But, none of that had panned out. Instead, I was wasn't writing, or studying, or doing a job I loved. I was just Harry's good time girl. At times, I wasn't sure that good times were enough. And, I had to go home to Australia. I needed to see my mum. She needed to put her hands on me. i wanted to sleep in my own bed, for once, and there were a few people who would be home to see. I told Harry that I could come to him after, between Christmas and New Year's, but he wouldn't hear it. "That's not good enough, Melly! i want to spend Christmas with you. Especially if you won't come to London with me." "I will come to London, Harry. I will. But I can't stay for months on end. Mum will kill me if Michael makes it home before me. I'm not the rock star. I know that its normal for you to run out on your family." as soon as it left my mouth, before I even say the words make impact on his face, I knew that I had touched a sore subject. "I don't like leaving, Melody. But, it’s my job. And you are going to need to understand that if this is gonna work. Especially if you are going to be running home to Australia all the time!" "Running to Australia all the time!?? It's my home, Harry. What would you have me do, just follow you around. I need to lead my own life."  and I did, but we both knew I wasn't sure what path to walk. His face gentled, and I could tell he had something to say I may not like. "Melly, that's true. But while, you are figuring that out, can't you just stay with me?' "Harry...." I trailed off. I felt like that was a really selfish question. But I had no good reason to say no to it. "When I'm with you, you are my whole life. And I love it. I love how consuming we are. But, it’s not fair. I need to see my family and sort out my life before I decide I just want to spend it on the sidelines watching yours." "Melody, you aren't a spectator. You are my partner." Harry came over and put his forehead against mine. But I felt like a spectator, or hanger on. It wasn't enough for me. I wanted to be more than his girlfriend. Or some junior partner. Which was all I could be without something that was mine So after two blissful, heady weeks in London, with a fucked out weekend in Paris as a capper. I went home to Australia, breaking my heart and Harry’s I had hoped it was just a little crack that we could patch up and fire to make us even stronger. But when my mother got sick at Christmas, and had to be hospitalized, I was simultaneously happy to be home and distraught that I didn't get to see Harry before his responsibilities started again full time. Then he was in LA, and we barely had a moment to talk. I was helping my mother get better. But I still didn't know what I was doing with my life. Except being Harry Styles' secret girlfriend, a wannabe writer and twenty year old who lived with her parents. Though, that had happened for a reason. I went with my mom to all her gut wrenching chemo appointments and watched her hair fall out, was thankful for every conversation and memory of me, michael, dad, and their courtship she shared, and tried not to be selfish because I missed a boy. I really missed my boy. When we did talk, when I gave in and called because I desperately needed to talk or just hear his voice so I knew the world was spinning madly on, even if I was in stasis, he was sympathetic.  He was sympathetic, but he always had to go. He always had to go. And I always did the calling. Over time, I started to feel like a burden. My life was in neutral, his in overdrive, and when my mom got the all clear, for the next year at least, I was just waiting. None of the plans I could make would start for months. I needed something, a word, or a trip to see my love. And he needed a holiday, maybe a holiweek. But we could never find a way to work it out. We couldn’t work it out. Then he wasn’t available, even when I was trying. I decided to be stupid and test it. I decided to wait. How long would he go without speaking to me if I didn’t make the overture. Days, then weeks, then a fortnight, then a month. While I waited, I surfed make up artists instagrams and made a friend. She worked in Asia and Oceania, Ada did. When the pictures started getting published, of Harry’s life away. This whole life he never spoke to me about, with famous powerful beautiful people, while I was on my phone in the pajamas I hadn’t bothered to get out of, I tried not to be bothered. I tried not to be broken. But I was. I lay in that bed where he had traced my personal wailing wall and I watched the morning sun wake him and realized we were a memory. And I cried. Of course he didn’t call me. He brought out the best in me, I hoped I did for him too, but the huge smile on his face and his happy dancing with his new besties made me fold in on myself. I was down to a quarter turn when Ada offered me the job. And that night new pictures came out of Harry in what looked lesson to be for all intents and purposes a double date. I could only conclude Harry was gone, not just away.   And I needed an emergency exit. No amount of memories or fading love was gonna change who we were. He was Harry Styles and I was just somebody’s little sister who looked well enough and made herself available. I was not in his league, I had no business even stepping on his field. And he was to lovely to tell me it was over, or wanted to avoid the conversation entirely. Or worse, he couldn’t be bothered. Didn’t think of me enough to even remember the girl who was supposed to be more than a friend a whole world away. We were just a faded photograph these days, the lo-Fi filter on an insta post. We used to be full color. And if I was going to be a better me, it was time to take flight. I called Ada, and took the job. I pushed open the emergency door of my life, because as it stood, I was going down, and stepped out into the great blue and hoped my parachute opened before my decision to jump caught up to me. if I was going to be a better me, it was time to take flight. By the time I stopped, months later on that sofa with Kara, and realized I’d been foolish to run, that I hadn’t even put up a fight, that I’d just raised a white flag, it was too late and we were far away from who we used to be.

I didn’t even recognize me, a ghost was all that was left of me.

Thank you always @nocontrolforlouis

#harry styles #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles imagine #harry styles smut #mmith #meet me In The Hallway #one direction #one direction fanfiction

[deripmaver]

Victuuri 18

Rating: G

Prompt: waking up with amnesia au from this prompt list

SO this gets a little bit of a tl;dr explanation before I get to the fic, so you don’t wonder why I took this prompt so far into left field. Basically, kazilin/Reiya of Until My Feet Bleed & My Heart Aches fame wrote a star wars au a little while ago, whose ending she intentionally left open-ended so the reader could decide for themselves whether or not a particular character died. 

Now, I dislike open ended stories (absolutely no offense intended to the author, they’re just not my jam) so my maladaptive daydreaming ass started imagining a whole long continuation to that star wars au which involved - and this is where the prompt comes in - Yuuri with amnesia. 

I don’t know if I have enough of a plot to write a whole long fic, nevermind that I definitely don’t have the time, but here’s a little snippet of what I would write as a continuation to that Star Wars au which I didn’t actually read because as I said I don’t like open endings but I’m sure was great

Thisjungle planet is barely inhabited. It’s the outer-most of outer rimsin a far away galaxy, orbiting a binary star system with one otherhabitable neighbor, a classic junk-dealing desert planet that aliensmade habitable by sheer stubbornness – and a desire to evade thelaw.

Thisplanet, though, with it’s strange cicada-like insects and muggyatmosphere and murky green-sludge water, is even stranger. Moreforeign. More dangerous. Victor has no idea what might be lurking  inthe shadows between trees – a few preliminary scans forheat-clusters revealed a few isolated spots of inhabitation, butVictor has no way of knowing whether they’re friendly shopkeepers orhiding criminals.

TheForce led him here, though, the Force and a barely-there trail ofmerchants and ex-rebellion soldiers that recognized the face inVictor’s holo-recordings, the unsung hero of the rebellion and thelove of Victor’s life – Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuriwas always the one in tune with the Force, but Victor has tried. He’stried since that little niggling sensation in the back of his mindthat Yuuri isn’t dead, he can’t be, it just feelslike he’s alive blossomed into ablaring siren, like there’s something (someone!) out in the endlessdepths of space calling out to him.

Andnow, he’s been lead here, to a planet that barely registers on hisstar maps – terrified that the Force Yuuri claimed was a part ofevery being was never a part of him, and it was his own desperategrief leading him on a wild goose chase across the galaxy.

Butwhy would it lead him here?

Victor’slife scanner beeps, non-human.Close by. He shudders in the sticky heat, wiping sweat from his brow,and follows the motion of the scanner. It’s an unfamiliar species, soVictor creeps closer, unsure if it’s intelligent, friendly, capableof communication in Basic.

Fuck,it’s so sticky. Sticky like summers on Yuuri’s home planet, Victorthinks, miserably. Maybe, maybe this creature has information-

Afrog-like alien leaps out from behind a fern, and Victor’s scannerbeeps gleefully, taking a biometric scan of the creature andauto-uploading it to the server. Disappointment pools in Victor’s gutas he watches the creature nibble at a leaf.

“Doyou know where Yuuri Katsuki is?” Victor asks it, desperately, onthe off chance it can talk.

Itdoesn’t respond, just keeps nibbling at the leaf, which melts into astrange goo on contact with the alien’s saliva.

Victor’sheart plummets. It’s been months, monthssince he left his home planet and the little house he and Yuuri weresupposed to call their own, and it’s hard not to take every wildherring and misdirection as a crushing blow.

“Keepit together,” Victor murmurs, wiping tears and more sweat from hisface, “Keep it – you’ve only just gotten here, maybe he’s still-”

Something,a strange sensation, raises the hairs on his arms. Victor shuddersunpleasantly, and his hand automatically reaches for his blaster.Above him, the treetops rustle and sway, and Victor scans them forsigns of danger. The bad, prickling feeling remains. Victorinstinctively lowers himself into a crouch, identifies exits andpathways into the murk-

Theblaster at his hip goes flying out of its holster before Victor canmanage to get a grip on it, and he whirls around as a figure emergesfrom the mist, with blue-rimmed glasses and long black hair andbeautiful amber-brown eyes-

Victor’sheart stops.

“It’syou,” he breathes, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, “It’syou, Yuuri, it’s-”

Hetakes a step forward and Yuuri fires the blaster. The heat of itbarely grazes his ear before it hits a tree behind him with a loudthunderclap of sound, crackling and sizzling and the wood glowing aneerie orange among the green-gray-brown around him.

“Yuuri?”Victor squeaks, uncertain.

“Howdo you know my name?” Yuuri hisses, and everything around Victorgoes very cold.

“Canyou,” Victor swallows, “Can you… See me?”

“Yes,I can see you,” Yuuri snaps, pointing Victor’s blaster directlybetween his eyes. “Now, answer my question, or I’ll shoot.”

Victor’shands start to shake. It’s like his brain has short circuited, hismouth struck speechless. Is this a trick? Are his eyes deceiving him?No, no, he’d know that face, those eyes, the feelingin his chest at the sight of him – he’d know those anywhere. Thisis his Yuuri, alive and healthy and pointing his blasterbetween his eyes.

“Don’tyou know me?” He asks, weakly. “Victor Nikiforov?”

Thatseems to give Yuuri pause, but the suspicion in his eyes and thefierce, protective stance remain. “You’re a stranger to thisplanet,” he hisses. “Why should I know you?”

Victorstarts to laugh. His whole body trembles, tears leaking out from thecorners of his eyes, hysterical laugh-sobs bubbling out of him. He’dprepared himself to find Yuuri dead, to find him alive – but this,this is nothing he could have imagined.

“Yuuri,”he says, wetly, wiping his eyes. “It’s me. Your Vitya. I’m yourhusband.”

Victorholds up his ring, staring miserably at the fire Yuuri has drawn inthe middle of the little hut he calls home, set up on a ricketywooden pathway through the muck. Yuuri no longer has the blastertrained on him, though his body is still tense, and his eyes aresharp and nervous.

“Ican’t remember much of anything,” Yuuri admits, “Beyond the lastfew months. I wondered where this came from.”

Heholds up his own hand, where the gold band shimmers in the firelight. Victor bites his lip, fighting back a fresh wave of tears.

“CanI show you something?” Victor offers, voice wobbly and wet,gesturing to the ring.

Yuurihesitates for a long moment before pulling the ring off – Victornotes with a heavy heart the indent on his finger, a sign he doesn’tremove it often – and dropping it in the palm of Victor’s hand witha sharp, suspicious look.

“Don’ttry to run off,” Yuuri snaps.

Thewords twist like a knife in his gut, but Victor nods. He holds bothrings up so Yuuri can see the slight indent in one, the slight bumpof the other, and snaps the two of them together. Immediately, ahologram pops up between the two of them, a 3D image of Victor andYuuri holding hands and staring into each others’ eyes.

Yuuri’seyes widen, and he stiffens in shock. Victor waves his hand, and thehologram changes. The two of them, Makkachin in the middle, dressedin the wedding garb of their respective planets. Another wave of thehand and the picture is of Yuuri and his family, the next a pictureof Victor asleep and Yuuri making a shhmotion with his hand, smiling with the ring’s sheen visible even inholo-form.

Thenext picture is of their wedding kiss, the tears and smiles in themidst of all the fighting. Victor looks at the picture with longing,heart a lead weight in his chest, and when he looks to Yuuri he seestears flowing freely down his cheeks.

“Yuuri?”Victor gasps, trying not to get his hopes up, “Yuuri – do youremember?”

Yuuriturns to him, agony inhis beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, voicecracking, “I don’t. You’re – you’re telling the truth, though.You really are my husband.” He closes his eyes. “I can’t believe.This whole time, I had a family, I had a husband-”

Victorwants to hold him. To kiss his tears away, to whisper in his ear thateverything will be alright, that they’re together now. How can he,though, when to Yuuri he may well be a perfect stranger? Victorremembers how skittish Yuuri was when they first met, and if they’velost their easy intimacy, he can’t, he can’t-

“I’msorry, Yuuri,” Victor whispers, swallowing down the lump in histhroat.

Yuurilaughs, bitterly, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Don’t be sorry,”he says, reaching out to cup Victor’s cheek. Victor grabs it,reflexively, and Yuuri doesn’t start or pull away. “I’msorry. How could I forget my own husband?”

Victortakes a deep, shaky breath, fighting back the urge to kiss Yuuri’swrist. “I don’t know. But I’ve found you now – and that’ssomething I’d really, really like to figure out.”

#my fic #scribeoffate #victuuri #yoi fic #yuri on ice fanfic #i feel like i always do something weird for the prompts you send me haha im sorry #got one more of these!!! gonna try to get to it and keep the writing momentum going during the week >:D #work on some of my actual fic haha

[peacefulwriter88]

Ripples - Part 9

Series Tag List: @captainxamerica, @just---love, @senpaiace, @glittercoveredsouls, @findacauseandserveit, @devil-may-cry-11-blog, @agentbarnescarter, @mannatgalhotra @harrisbn @sapphire1727 @ishipmybed @nessy-bearxb @calaofnoldor @cautionconed @badassbaker @mannatgalhotra @girlwonder86 @thatpunkrockfandomchick @barnesdeservestheworld @gratittie @memory-of-a-goldfish @tacohead13 @greeneyedgirls4 @lloeppky @justanotherbuckydevotee@jasmineladjevardi @hollycornish @seargantbcky @planet-holland @violentpleasure @patzammit

Warnings – Fluff, language, being conflicted between Steve and Bucky

A/N: It’s been a while. I’m sorry. I lost a lot of inspiration for a while and got caught up in Ben Barnes as Billy Russo. Infinity War trailer re-inspired me. It actually kind of fucked me up. So here’s this. And probably another part soon. And also a new story featuring these two truly.

Need a refresher? Read part 8

Bucky POV

He walked over to you, watching the way you tensed as you neared him. He understood. If anyone watched you now, they would think that with all the excitement happening to you, you were immune to it. Immune to the fact that you were going to get more than a slap on your hand for all the drama you had caused. Could even possibly have jail time or worse. You didn’t let it get to you though.

This morning he did what he always did. Went to the window and waited for you, making sure that you got in okay. It was an odd habit, and Sam once had teased him that it was borderline creepy, but he just wanted to make sure that you were safe. That was important for him. He had watched you step out of your car, your white blouse a stark contrast to the black button pants you wore that you had opted to wear with suspenders. Red lipstick adorned your face and with the black heels you worse, the whole ensemble felt like a modern version of a 40s pin up girl and it stirred something primitive in him.

Even from where he stood at his window, his hands scrunched up in his jean pockets, he couldn’t help the way you made him feel. Aroused. Proud. Happy. At peace. He wanted to push you against a wall all the while whispering how much he loved you – how he wanted to spend the rest of his life fighting beside you as he drove his cock in you. Wanted to bruise your neck with his kiss, mark you for the world to know that you belonged to him. Wanted you to rack your nails down his back while you whimpered out his name, biting at his shoulders begging him to make you cum. Wanted you to run your hands through his long hair, tussling it so bad that when you both re-emerged everyone would know that he belonged to you, that he was yours.  

He was so in love with you and that realization and acceptance scared the shit out of him.

As he stood beside you now, your body tense as your brain went through all the outcomes of this international realization, how you blew your cover and now had a room of highly trained and powerful people aware that you were around to spy on them, he knew you were just as afraid. Not of the people in the tower – the people who held no power but somehow had some control over you. It was so bad, he was sure that Steve and him were an afterthought. It was the little things you did when you were anxious or nervous – you kept tapping your thumb nail against your cup, the ceramic container tinging against the light sounds of chatter coming from inside. Could hear the way your heart steadily beat, your breathing a rhythmic hitched sound as you shifted from one foot or another.

As a highly trained soldier, he knew this response. You felt caged, unable to find an exit. It was the worse feeling. It was how his mind had kept him since he had stopped being The Winter Soldier. Even though the Wakandians had cured his mind from betraying him, they couldn’t take away the nightmares. He hated that the most of himself.

“I don’t care about your secrets Y/N. I want to make sure you’re ok.” He places his metal arm hesitantly on your right shoulder and you look down at it before looking back up into his eyes. Your heartbeat instantly calms, your breath evens out and you shift to move closer to him, placing your head on the cool metal of his arm. He shifts, moving so he can wrap his arm gently around your waist as your head props on his left pec and you give a content sigh, closing your eyes.

Perhaps, in some odd, twisted way he helped calm you too.

“How are you healing up?” you ask and he shrugs, looking out to the forest scenery.

“Think I’ll survive another day doll. Steve does wallop a mean punch tho – kind of proud of him. Too bad he’s trying to steal my best girl from me.” He winks down at you and you laugh, wrapping your arm around his torso.

You give a content hum as he places a soft kiss on your forehead, letting the silence envelope you. If someone measured how much time the two of you spent not speaking, they’d wonder how the two of you became a pair to begin with. Wouldn’t know that when you’re a fighter, you’re constantly by yourself, in your thoughts. Thinking of exit strategies. Except when he was with you. When he was with you, he was home. Knew you were at home.

The price of peace was high except until you showed him that it was worth fighting for.

“Terry is going to kill me.” You finally say, breaking him from his thoughts as you free hand wraps around his torso, grabbing your mug of coffee to take a sip. He takes your cue, holding you captive in the caged hug and you rest your chin on his chest once you’re done finishing the cup.

“Terry….?”

“The silver haired fox who walked in with our secretary of defense who looks like a harmless old man but has the instincts of a lion. He was the one leading the MI-6 team, the CIA – FBI. Oh, and all the other heads who I can’t name but you know, basically the world’s top governments agencies. He’s my boss and he’s going to fucking kill me.”

He chuckles, watching the way your head curls back into his chest and he rests his chin on top of it, rubbing your back.

“I highly doubt that princess.” He whispers in low Romanian and you nip at him, your teeth grazing against his teal Henley. You hated it when he called you princess.

“I mean it Y/N,” he says more seriously. “You are damn good at your job. I mean, I don’t know exactly what your skill sets are outside of your amazing flexibility in bed…” another nick and he laughs, drawing you closer to him.

“I kid, I kid. Well sorta. Basically none of us expected you to be a sleeper agent and we are all designed to sniff this stuff out. Not even Wanda who can read minds. Don’t know how you managed that one.”

“God, I’m really going to have to up your movie game. Again!” You haven’t moved from his chest but he can feel the way you smile against him and gives a casual shrug. You always said that and it always led to hours being alone with you watching movies he could care less for. But it made you happy so he complied.

“My point is, you managed to do whatever it is you were doing here successfully. Except I’m guessing getting involved with Steve and I was not part of your end plan.”

You groan into his chest, before resting your chin back on him. He can tell by the way your eyes are looking at him your debating telling him the whole truth.

“Aww fuck it. I’ll tell you – probably will find out anyways. Obviously you weren’t part of the mission – you know the standard wine and dine. In fact I was told explicitly to make no connections with anyone. I tried really hard too but goddamn Bucky – you and Steve made it impossible. And Tony and Natasha. And Clint. And Wanda. Even Vision, Brue and Thor. And Sam…..

“Anyways, when I realized I was falling in deep, I let Terry know but he wouldn’t have it. Encouraged it actually. Said it was great to build trust. That was part of the gimmick. Ignored me when I suspected you had feelings for me. Oh yea Buck, I figured that out real quick. You were sooooo obvious.”

He can feel his face flush over in a coat of pink, the heat taking over his body and you place a soft kiss on his chest.

“It was endearing. It was cute. I liked it. I liked it because even though Emo Buck is around literally 99% of the time, you started smiling when you were around me. Started telling jokes. I remember the first time you laughed, it was like music to my ears. It eased me. I was worried about you. I liked that you started sharing more of yourself with me – your secrets. Your insecurities. All I wanted to do was tell you them back.”

“You told Steve.”

He doesn’t mean for it to slip but it does. It does because it hurts him. Always bit at his soul. You told Steve everything. Your eyebrows furrow together.

“Fucking Steve can’t keep a secret for shit!” he can’t help but laugh at that. That had always been true – Steve was way too open to hold other people’s secrets. He didn’t even mean it, just the way he was built.

“I told Steve because it’s easy to tell him those things. I trusted him too. But I knew if I told you…it’d be different. Because it wouldn’t be the scratched surface of who I am, what I was willing to share to build trust. It’d be the whole thing, including my current mission. And I couldn’t share my mission. And I couldn’t lie to you. So I didn’t say a word.”

That made sense. Made sense because he was fountain of information, typically about him, when he was around you.

“The point is, I told Terry as much and he brushed it aside as a kids crush. Told me ride with it. And then, at one point, I figured fuck it. I was just going to tell you how I felt. And then maybe I could balance this secret agent playing as an innocent secretary thing. Got too damn greedy. Probably why the whole Steve and I getting drunk thing happened. I was really nervous about telling you how I felt so I thought a drop of that damn devils blood of an ale would loosen me up. Not lead to me getting married.”

His lips quirk up in a smile. He knew you liked him. He knew it – could feel it. But he didn’t play with chance. Unless he voiced it, he wasn’t going to say a damn thing.

“So you were going to sleep with me that night?” he jokes and you groan, hiding your face in his chest.

“Get off it Buck.”

“Just tell me…” he pokes your side and you giggle, looking back up at him.

“No! Get off of it Winter Soldier.”

He lets up, placing a kiss on your forehead before murmuring,

“I already know...”

“I know you know.”

Silence. Then your saying quickly,

“Fine! I liked you. I was willing to sacrifice all of this, this secret agent business, so I could give this a chance. Figured I could monitor the Avengers and finally tell the man that I love how I was feeling about him. Figured that monitoring the progress of the group, gauging threat levels for our planet, measuring each person’s ability to protect us would go hand in hand with being able to love you back. Even if you were an ass about it. You know, using the jealousy card on all women doesn’t work.”

His eyes flit away from you, back to the scenery at hand.

“I’m sorry about that. That was rude and childish of me.”

“It was. But you know, I didn’t make it any better. I ended up falling for your best friend and marrying him.”

Oh.

You sigh as you push away from him a bit but he won’t let go. Not when he finally has you all to himself.

“I love you Bucky. I really do. And I didn’t feel that way about Steve when I married him either…I mean maybe like a physical attraction sure because Steve is just as much a looker as you. But it wasn’t until after….or maybe before…I don’t know. Something changed. Something changed and now I’m stuck loving two super soldiers. I’m telling you this because you deserve to hear it okay. You deserve to know. If we are really going to figure this out we gotta start being honest. This is my olive branch.”

You watch him, biting your lip anxiously and he swipes hair out of your face. Caresses your cheek. He couldn’t admit it hurt him to hear the words, knowing that you were just as much in love with Steve, his best friend – his brother – than with him. Could understand it. You may have once been broken like him, but you healed yourself like Steve. It made sense your compatibility with them both.

However, knowing something to be true didn’t take away from it hurting less.

“I know that,” he whispers. “Still sucks.”

You nod, your eyes welling with tears and he shakes his head, a gentle smile tugging onto his lips. It hurt but he still loved you. Appreciated you. Cared for you. Knew you felt the same. That was enough for now.

“I can’t convince you to stop loving Steve.” he places he places his hands on your face, cupping your soft flesh as he looks down at you. “I can tell you that I love you. That I hid behind the line of women because I didn’t think I could measure up to you. That I know what it’s like to have a tarnished past and to feel unable to move forward from it. Know that I am willing to wait for you, for 100 years or more if that is what it takes, because you deserve to choose what makes you happy.”

You didn’t cry. He knew that about you - knew that you had learned to check your emotions a long time ago. From the job and life, you led he was sure but now, standing in front of him you were a pool of tears. He was always the reason that made you cry and he hated himself for it.

“Bucky, I don’t deserve you. I’m literally putting you in the middle of a love triangle. You deserve someone better.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he presses his forehead to yours.

“If the only lump in our relationship is having to deal with Steve, at least it’s a guy I respect.”

You laugh and nod, tears spilling out your eyes and he places a soft kiss on your eyelids.

“You’re strong and going to get past this.” he mumbles against your skin, referring back to the bigger issues that was pressing and you shake your head pulling away,

“I feel like I’m going to get shipped to Serbia. There’s a lot of mini Hydra bases they’d just love me to infiltrate and destroy.”

You give a small chuckle, trying to dispel the tension in the situation but he knows better.

“Even though Tony hates you right now, he also genuinely loves you and is invested in you. And you’re pretty badass and would be a great addition to the team. You took down two talented super soldiers. Pretty damn good resume builder if you ask me” you laugh as again as he pulls you into a hug.

“We are going to make sure to protect you. You’re going to be all right. And if not, I’ll go wherever they ship you off too.”

You shake your head, wrapping yourself around him and he gives a content sigh as you murmur,

“I hope you're right Mr. Barnes.”

He gives one last smile, bending down to push a kiss on your lips.

“You have to give yourself more credit doll. Steve, wouldn’t you agree she’s too hard on herself?” he turns to find Steve pressed against the door and you flush over, instinctively putting a bit of space between Bucky and yourself. You know it doesn’t matter but you feel obligated to diffuse where you can, even if it goes without care.

Bucky chuckles, infiltrating your space one last time to give you a slow and steady kiss before walking to the balcony doors, past Steve.

“She’s all yours,” he mumbles, moving past him and walking back into the house. Back to curious eyes who tried to hard to hide the fact that they had probably watched everything go down.

“That was a very kind thing you did for her.” Wanda says as he moves past the living room, the only person who hadn’t moved their attention from the television as Clint raises an eyebrow, looking up from his deck of cards he was playing with.

The sound of masculine shouts erupted from the space occasionally which he could only assume was their guests putting everyone on edge.  

“I haven’t done anything yet?” Clint says and Natasha rolls her eyes as Vision quietly answers,

“She wasn’t talking about you Clint.”

“Thought you all were going to be a part of that mess upstairs.” Bucky says, stepping into the open kitchen and digging through the cabinets and Bruce takes off his glasses, cleaning them expertly. A nervous habit he picked up when he was concerned.

“They thought that would lend to too many voices,” he places his glasses on the bridge of his noise as he continues, “seems like your girlfriend has created a bigger mess than we could have anticipated.”

He doesn’t mean to slam the cabinet doors but he does and everyone turns to him.

“She’s Steve’s wife.”

Despite what he had told you, he still had to make peace with that fact. And he honestly didn’t want everyone else to ask him about it. Everyone in this place, like Steve, didn’t know how to keep a secret.

Maybe Natasha. Possibly Wanda. He would even venture Sam to a degree. But for him, that was it. Steve once – he was good at keeping the big things when asked but since he married you, he bled everything that was shared to you.

He had to pay for privacy.

“The way you were shmoozing her on the balcony would say otherwise. Got Steve really pissed off. It’s the moodiest I’ve ever seen him…” Sam drawls off as Bucky’s eyes burn into him and he raises his arms.

“What? They were watching too. It is GLASS doors that’s separating that space from this one.”

Bucky rolls his eyes as he leans against the counter.

“Not like it’s any of your business but I’m out of this fight. The rest is up to her.”

Muted silence. Finally,

“.... that should bode well.” Sam mutters underneath his breath, gaining another jab from Thor.

“What? Its true.” he winces, rubbing the tender spot and Thor shakes his head.

“The metal man is right - its none of our business.”

Bucky chuckles, crossing his arms across his chest despite his sour mood. How could one man with so much good intentions deliver such subtle insults.

“For the last time Thor I’m not a metal man. I just have a metal arm.”

“Same thing.” The large Asgardian shrugs.

Steve’s POV

Steve walked into the shared space of the avenger’s tower, desperately trying to ignore the swarm of agents that were moving in and out. Needing to find you.

He had woken up in sweats, barely sleeping on and off. When he had come into the infirmary three days back, Natasha was sitting next to him, a book in her hand as her feet propped on the foot of his bed. She had glanced up and smirked, shaking her head as she returned her eyes back to her book.

“How you doing sleeping beauty?”

His response is a groan, trying to sit up in bed.

“Wouldn’t do that. You and Barnes beat the shit out of each other.”

He groaned, trying to lift his head when a stabbing pain entered his skull. What the hell did Bucky do to him.

“Oh, that little gift was probably left over from your wife. She had a lot of feelings about you and Barnes beating the shit out of her apartment complex.”

Steve closed his eyes, remembering the way he had felt when you had opened the door. Your lips plump, hair askew it was how he liked you best. When you first woke up and didn’t try hard to make yourself even more beautiful than you were. Then things had clicked in place. You weren’t wearing his over large t-shirt. Your neck was bruised, but not from his love bites. He could smell him just as it clicked in his head.

Bucky.

He was so angry. So angry at you. At Bucky. You knew it. And yet he couldn’t be because he knew how much you both loved each other. Knew how torn you were. Tried to reason with that. But Bucky had also known how much he had loved you too. Rather he liked it or not, he was supposed to step down. That kind of disappointing anger had fueled him up, leaving him in a rage.

“Is she okay? We didn’t hurt her or anything?”

Natasha snorts, shaking her head.

“No, she pretty much got the drop on the both of you. Forgot how good and resourceful she is,” she stands up stretching and Steve sighs, closing his eyes.

“What should I do Natasha?”

Natasha considered him for a moment, watching him carefully before saying.

“I know she loves you Steve. She has told me as much. She really likes the idea of starting a life with you. But…. there’s just something about her and Bucky. I know you see this too. Know you can feel it when they are together. They fit, like this perfect little unit. She knows him – he knows her…. I don’t know Steve. I think you could show her a whole lot about happiness and love but I think Bucky can love her and understand her despite her flaws in ways you never can. Not because you’re not right for her but because they’re just one in the same. But hell, what do I know.” She walks over to him and places a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Eventually, you all are going to have to sit down and sort this out. And whatever she decides, whether it’s you, Bucky or no one, you both need to respect that. I’m not saying she’s an innocent angel in all of this but I do know she’s really tried to disengage with both of you. She’d rather be miserable alone than ruin a good friendship.”

Steve knew this. You were selfless in all the ways you were being selfish. He was being selfish. Bucky was being selfish. Natasha was right. The three of you had to sit down and talk this out. No more whispering behind walls and using sex to manipulate you.

He had a plan.

And then he had woken up and found a note on the side of his table.

Steve,

I’m not worth any of this. I’ll be reassigned today and you won’t have to deal with me or Bucky or any of this anymore. You deserve happiness. You deserve someone who can love you and be true to you like you deserve. And that someone is not me.

I love you. I really do. But I just can’t hurt you anymore

Love,

Y/N

Your wedding ring had been on top of the letter and he had jumped into action. You couldn’t leave. Couldn’t say goodbye and decide without him having input in it. So he dressed and started his trek to find you but you were like a ghost. You knew how to be seen only when you needed to be found.

When he turns the corner of the living room, he feels the shift. See’s the way everyone watches him cautiously, their eyes flicking from the balcony back to him. You were here. And you probably weren’t alone.

“Where are they?” he sighs, trying to check his anger. Probably doing a crappy job of it.

Silence.

“They’re on the balcony, right?”

More silence.

He starts toward the door but Bruce is getting up, nervously flicking his eyes from Steve to outside.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do this now. Haven’t you caused enough damage.”

Steve sighs, placing a shaky hand on his shoulder.

“Not here to fight Banner. I just need to talk to them. Desperately.”

Bruce looks over to Natasha who gives a slight nod and sighs,

“If you say so.”

“I know so.” He says confidently, walking to the door and whipping it open. Trying not to let the pain that’s crusting his heart encase him. He had seen you give hugs to most men in the tower. His colleagues were all attractive people, men and woman alike and he was more than happy to see when you broke down your walls to share a little bit of affection.

But when he saw you with Bucky – something else tore through him. A rage of jealousy and pain. Probably because like Natasha said, you both just fit together. Even standing there, your face tear stained as Bucky held you, lips pressed to your forehead, his left arm softly placed on your hip as his right arm drew you in, there was something beautiful about the two of you together. You were a handsome couple together. Moved almost symbiotically. If you fidgeted, Bucky was sure to respond the same seconds later and vice versa. When you had fought them days ago, he had stopped to watch you move with Bucky because it was like a perfectly choreographed dance. You could anticipate each other. When you guys walked down the halls together, your bodies barely touching, Bucky’s face relaxed and happy, a permanent smile on your lips, it made him want that. It was like a couple in the movies that you wanted to emulate in real life. Wanted to steal from in order to obtain that bit of happiness.

You were both made for each other and he had barreled into that, breaking what had lived. And now, because of that simple mistake, he was on the verge of losing both of you.

“Mind if we talk?” Steve asks once Bucky’s moved past him and you nod, turning your back to him.

He stands there, watching you. The way the wind whips against your body, the relaxed way your shoulders sit as you play with the coffee mug in your hand. You smelled like Bucky and yet there was still the faint smell of you – a faint mixture of flora, vanilla and musk wrapped in one. In so many ways you were beautiful, strong and confident. So much different from Sharon, from Wanda or even Natasha.

And he loved you just as much as Bucky did.

“Steve, you don’t have to stand there. You could join me over here.” Your voice cuts through his thoughts as you look back at him, a genial smile on your face as your eyes rake at him and he knows what he has to do. He should make this decision for you. You deserved to be happy. He knew your history. Knew of the people who abused you as a child. Forced you to become something you didn’t want to become. How your parents had chosen money over your livelihood. Why you had hardened your heart and become a killer. What it felt like to realize that killing wasn’t going to solve the problems in the world and why you choose to leave that life.

He knew it because you would tell him when life was too down on him and he felt like he could speak to no one else about it. Not even Bucky, Sam or even Sharon. He couldn’t let his friends carry the weight of his problems. Except when he spoke to you it didn’t feel like a weight, but a cloud taking the stress away. When you told him that you knew exactly what it felt like to wake up and realize you had become something else by man’s hand, how people tried to manipulate your humanity – that was when he fell in love. It had challenged something in him that no matter how many things he tried to fill in his heart, he would always be alone.

When he was with you he didn’t feel alone. He felt whole. Felt complete. Felt like he could continue his mission to help others who may not have the capacity to help themselves.

You gave him that. He wanted you all for himself because that was the gift you gave him. If losing you would mean that he had to lose that feeling then he was willing to sacrifice it. You deserved happiness. Bucky deserved happiness, even if he still wanted to punch him in his face.

You both were made for each other. He’s confident in that.

Except, when he nears you, that feeling of confidence dissipates. He stands near you and you automatically move closer to him, your arms brushing as you stand in silence. He had watched you and Bucky sit for hours in silence, typically Bucky’s head in your lap as you work steadily on your laptop on the couch, not saying a word and yet somehow knowing exactly what was going on each other’s head. It fascinated him, mainly because when he was with you in silence he was uneasy. Unsure. Felt like the scrawny 17-year-old kid in Brooklyn who couldn’t fight for himself but always had to because it was the right thing to do. So, he filled the silence up with stories or talking through missions or his insecurities and you would listen, that same soft smile on your face as you operated around him.

But it wasn’t like you and Bucky.

“When you get lost in your head Steve,” You nudge his shoulder, your warmth wrapping up in his own and he can’t help the ease that comes with it, “You tend to get yourself in trouble. What’s going on in there?”

Your voice is gentle, has a playful tone but he can sense the worry behind it.

“I don’t think we should be married anymore.”

You tense up but your head doesn’t shift. You just watch him, your eyes bearing into his own.

“Is that what you want?”

“Isn’t it what you want?”

You sigh, heavy and long as you turn back to the trees.

“Steve, I don’t know what I want anymore. I love you, I really do. I love this feeling when I’m around you. I like the calm, like that you can be open and engaged and for once not carry the world on your shoulders when we hang out….” Your quirk your head to the side, debating your next words.

“But….Bucky….he’s……he’s just….I just feel….”

You’re at a loss of words and for once he knows how to fill it in,

“You feel like your whole when you’re with him.”

You turn back to him and nod. He tries to fight the tears threatening to pour out.

“I know. You always have been.”

“But Steve, I like being married to you. I know, I know it hasn’t seemed like it but I was happy when I woke up next you. Well…..I was confused and in pain,” he chuckles a bit at that. “But I was happy. I liked that you would get up earlier just so you could run with me in the morning, loved that you took the time to make me meals, loved that you learned how to use a scanner for me.” You laugh and shake your head and he can’t help but join in.

“I liked all of that because it made me feel a certain way. You make me feel a certain way. You give me hope, you remind me that you can be broke and still be okay. And that’s why I don’t know what to do Steve, because that was the feeling only Bucky had pulled out of me. I feel vulnerable, exposed. I feel like we woke up in Vegas and there’s this huge ripple effect that just keeps going and I want it to end for our sanity. We can’t keep doing this.”

The tears are coming back. He has never seen you so emotional about anything, trained to tame that emotion and his heart breaks. Because if he had just pushed you away that night three weeks ago, pushed you into the arms of Bucky, this would be a different story. You’d probably still be snuggled in bed with Bucky, both of you in happy bliss, finally saying everything what the world knew.

Three weeks ago, Bucky had finally caved in and admitted to him and Sam how he felt. Even after getting drunk on Asgardian ale, he denied his feelings. But something happened three weeks ago and he wanted the world to – the world being Sam and Steve.  Steve figured he couldn’t help it - had never seen Bucky so in love. He knew Bucky tried to wipe it away by sleeping with women, trying to paint your relationship black so you would hate him and go to Steve. Knew that he didn’t think he was good enough for you, that he would somehow tarnish you... But every time he tried that, he always ended back at square one.

Utterly in love with you.

Despite being wrapped up in your spell, despite the heavy feeling in his heart, Steve knows that he’ll find love again. It may not be as strong as it is with you, may not be as pure and natural. But it will come for him. He’s not sure if Bucky will ever find someone who will love him as much as you do. Not because he couldn’t. He could find someone yesterday.

Because he knew, like you both knew, that you were Bucky’s soulmate.

“Let’s go through with the divorce. Then you can….Bucky and you….”

Your eyes furrow together and you place your hand over his own and it’s like electricity is zapped through it.

Why does love hurt so much?

“You don’t want a divorce Steve.”

“I want my wife to be happy. I want to be able to talk to my best friend again. If this is the price then so be it.”

You watch him carefully for a minute, before you lean in and kiss him. And then he’s gone. Kissing you was like feeling at home again. Reminded him of laying out in the sun, or cuddling next to someone you love. Peaceful and right.

He can’t help but to deepen it, his hands getting caught in your hair as his tongue and teeth clash with yours and you moan, pulling away minutes later, resting your head on his forehead in shallow breaths.

“You’re so dangerous to love Steve. Dangerous because you’re also so right for me in all the wrong ways.”

You push off of the railing, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Let me think about a divorce okay. Give me a week.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him with the more questions then he came with.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Sebastian Stan #Chris Evans #ripples

[paleorecipecookbook]

5 Ways to Turn Daily Habits Into Acts of Meditation

Mindfulness meditation has long been recognized as a healthy way to relieve stress, but emerging research suggests that it may affect your physical health and DNA, too.

Recent studies show promising connections between mindfulness meditation and the reduction of physical inflammation. (1) While more clinical trials are needed, initial results found that adults who participate in mind-body practices have reduced activity in the genes related to inflammation, thus lowering their risk of developing inflammatory disorders such as asthma, arthritis, cardiovascular disease, and even some types of cancer.

Similar research found lower levels of Interleukin-6 (a protein that is produced at sites of inflammation) and better functional connectivity in participants who were taught basic mindfulness meditation techniques. (2)

While the science is very new, these initial discoveries offer exciting possibilities for long-term health and happiness. Of course, there is one caveat—you need to start a daily mindfulness practice in order to reap the benefits.

What Is Mindfulness?

Mindfulness is the act of paying complete attention to your experience in the present moment, rather than being distracted by your thoughts or what’s happening around you.

The goal of “being mindful” is to simply stay focused. This means that whatever you’re doing deserves your whole attention, without thought for what comes next or what came before. By keeping your attention on the here-and-now you can calm your body and mind and are better able to cope with illness, pain, and stress. (3)

The most common mindfulness practice is mindfulness meditation. This very gentle meditation practice simply requires you to sit comfortably with your eyes closed and to focus on your breath and the feeling of your body, for a set amount of time (usually two to 20+ minutes). Any time you catch yourself with wandering thoughts you just softly steer your focus back to your breath.

Do I Have To Meditate?

The physical and psychological benefits of meditation are well documented, but I can also appreciate the challenge of making this a habit. Despite acknowledging the pros of the practice, many people struggle to dedicate time out of their already busy day for meditation.

As a health coach, I’ve spent the past five years helping clients incorporate mindfulness practices into their daily routine, but you may be surprised to learn that I never suggest that they start with meditation. Instead, we focus on turning simple daily habits into mini-acts of mindfulness, so that they can reap the relaxation benefits without having to learn an entirely new skill!

5 Ways to Bring Mindfulness Into Daily Habits

Meditation for beginners can seem overwhelming, but instead, you can start with these five common daily habits and transform them into acts of mini mindfulness.

1. Showering

Showering is a wonderful entrance activity for your mindfulness training, as, unless you have a Bluetooth shower head, it’s unlikely that you can be distracted by your phone or other people.

Begin your practice from the moment you step into the bathroom. Hear the click of the door as you close it. Notice the order that you take off your clothes. Listen to the water as you turn on the tap.

Once you’re in the shower, stand for a few moments with your eyes closed. Pay attention to how each part of your body feels; from your feet to the top of the head, take a mental scan to notice each sensation in your muscles and on your skin.

Next, focus on the cascading water. As the water travels over your body, running across blades and dipping into creases, it reminds you that your body is whole. To be even more present, explore how different sections of your body feels under the water: How is the pressure? How is the heat?

Continue with the showering process, lathering soap and shampoo, all the while acknowledging each action that you take. Mentally say to yourself: I am washing my hair, I feel my fingers on my scalp, I smell the shampoo…

Finally, look at your hands as you turn off the water and feel the friction of your towel as you dry off. Moisturize and dress with the same intention that you’ve been holding, and then continue on with your day, feeling a little more present (and much cleaner)!

2. Driving

While driving should also be a relatively distraction-free environment, that’s usually not the case, so you’ll have to be vigilant in staying mindful during this activity.

Cell phone use is a no-no, both for driver safety and your mindfulness practice. Keep your phone in your bag (preferably in the back seat), or in the glove compartment, and if you’re using it for GPS then commit to that being its only purpose.

Begin your experience from the moment you unlock the car: hear the click of the lock, feel your body take a seat, and notice the sensation of buckling your belt. As you turn on the ignition imagine lighting a powerful tool that needs 100 percent of your focus.

To stay mindful, the radio must stay off. Your attention is on your hands on the wheel, your position on the road, and the speed of your car. Be intentional as you indicate and make lane changes, and consciously acknowledge where you’re going…even if you know the route like the back of your hand.

Once you arrive at your destination, take a moment to turn off the engine and just sit. Offer up thanks for another safe trip, and mindfully exit your vehicle and move on to the rest of your day.

3. Running

Running and walking have already become popular mindfulness practices, with coaches, courses, and techniques that teach mindful movement.

The benefits of mindful running include:

Natural breath formation

Relaxed mental state

Present-moment focus

The ability to discover your natural running stride

Feeling how to run faster, lighter, and with greater ease

Reducing the risk of injury

As with other mindfulness practices, the goal is to pay close attention to what you’re doing, without judgment. I think this is especially important to remember during physical activity, as we’re often quick to self-criticize if we feel like we’re not reaching our personal best. Mindfulness running lets you get back to the simple joy of running.

Running and walking have three main aspects that keep you anchored to the present moment, and it’s quite easy to train your brain to focus on them:

Your breath: Feel AND hear your inhalations and exhalations—notice when they are easy and when they are challenging. Experiment with different types of breath patterns to bring more ease to your lungs by filling and emptying your diaphragm at different rates, and practice breathing techniques that offer quick cardiovascular recovery, such as nose breathing.

The sound of your feet hitting the ground: Again this is a sound and a sensation that keeps you connected to your activity, your body, and the earth below you. Focus on your stride length and what section of your foot strikes the ground first.

Body sensations: This is both an internal and external experience. Listen inwards to find out what’s going on with your knees, hips, and hamstrings, etc, and focus outwards to feel the weather against your skin.

As with the other practices that I’m sharing, make this a mindful activity from start to finish. From the moment you lace your sneakers until the moment you take them off, your focus is on running.

4. Cooking

Mindful cooking is one of my favorite practices as the variety of external tasks makes it easier for me to stay focused.

Say, for example, that I’m chopping a carrot. I choose the carrot from the crisper, I feel the texture as I wash it in the sink, I notice the thin ribbons that fall away as I peel it, and I hear the crunch and crack with every chop. These are a lot of different components to keep my mind interested, but they are also all related to my current task.

Simple activities in the kitchen can be very rhythmic. Cutting, rinsing, stirring…if you’ve ever made a risotto you’ll know that it can put you in a trance-like state! But keep in mind that mindful cooking tends to be simple cooking. Unless you’re a master chef, it’s a lot easier to stay focused and feel calm when you are only dealing with one or two dishes at a time.

5. Having a conversation

I love the art of mindful conversation. Like a good game of tennis, where the ball is hit forward and back across the net, the conversation should also be thoughtful, received, and two-sided.

I’m sure you’ve spent time with someone who drones on and on with little regard for your interest in their topic (or that dentist appointment that you’ll now be late for). Similarly, I’ll bet you’ve experienced speaking to someone who constantly interrupts you, or worse, keeps checking their phone while you’re talking! So frustrating!

While you can’t do much about other people, you can set an example by practicing mindful conversations. All this means is that when you’re talking with someone, you give them your complete attention. Rather than thinking about what you want to say next, or what you’re going to be doing later, you listen to the words that they’re saying and you respond thoughtfully. When you’re the one speaking, bring enthusiasm and energy into your voice (sharing your words like a story is much more engaging), and stay mindful of the fact that it is a dialogue and not a monologue, so be willing to pass the conversation back, perhaps with a question.

Bottom Line

As you can see, it is easy to bring more mindfulness into everyday activities that you are already doing. Start by focusing on one of the habits that I mentioned today and see how it feels for you. Just remember that the ultimate goal isn’t to be perfect at this whole meditation thing, rather, it’s simply to relax your body and mind by focusing on the here-and-now.

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