#title: (back at the barn yard)

[dr-drckken]

Back At The Barn Yard || Self Para

Drakken learns about Vixey's Insta post and intends to do something about it.

Set: After the debate but before the election!

Trigger Warnings: mild violence and vomiting

Read below or here.

“What do you mean everyone can see this?” Drakken asked, pacing the living room of his house. 

It was well after the debate. The twins had decided to try and keep a lid on the major PR disaster that had been posted just hours before it, not wanting it to get in Drakken’s head. But now that the debate was over, they knew they shouldn’t keep him in ignorant bliss anymore. 

“Anyone that follows her can see it,” Wendall explained. 

“Which means everyone,” Wyatt continued. “It’s on the internet. It’s there forever!” 

“What do you want to do?” they both asked Drakken, voices falling in sync with one another.

“I’m going to go get her, of course!” Drakken said, turning on his heel to get to the front door. He kicked off the slippers he had been wearing in favor of shoving his feet back into his shoes. 

“What!” 

“You can’t-! 

“That will just prove she’s right-!” 

“-if you try to hurt her!” 

“I don’t care,” Drakken shouted. “She’s being used against me! That woman has no care for that poor creature. Your sister isn’t here anymore to kick her out, she can stay in the backyard for as long as I say so!” 

“...wait-”

“What?” 

The twins turned to one another, then looked back to Drakken, who was grumbling loudly as he tried to get his watch untangled from the coat that was hanging on the wall. 

“You meant the cow?” they asked.

“Of course I meant the cow!” Drakken wrenched his arm back, getting free. “Who else?” 

“Well- you can’t go tonight!” Wendall protested.

“Why not?” 

“You….uh…”

“We should get supplies!” Wyatt piped up. “So that she has stuff to eat and a place to sleep when she gets here. You don’t want her to suffer here, too, right?” 

Drakken had his hand around the door’s handle, fingers squeezing it tight as he deliberated. It was a good point, and when the thought of Vera’s comfort won out over the inherent anger, he sighed. “Fine. Fine! But I am bringing her here. No one is going to stop me, not even you two, understand?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Positively.” 

Drakken eyed them, then nodded. “Good.” 

He stepped away from the door, taking off his shoes and adorning his slippers once more. 

“But you aren’t coming with me.”

“What!” the boys protested, flanking Drakken on either side as he started walking back toward his bedroom. “But we can help!” 

“Yeah! We have as many hands on deck as you need!” 

“You also have a pesky moral code,” Drakken pointed out. “Which I don’t want getting in the way. If that woman shows up and starts crying because I’m stealing her precious mascot, what would you do? Because in the eyes of the law, she does belong to her family.” 

The twins frowned, finding one another’s eyes behind Drakken’s back. They shrugged to one another. “We’d probably have to stop you.” 

“And I wouldn’t let you. So, you two can stay home and get it ready for us to return. Keep our nosy neighbor from looking over the fence and calling the police or something. And make sure Commodore Puddles goes outside before she gets here.” 

They agreed and bid goodnight, parting ways as the entrance to their bedroom came before Drakken’s. 

–

True to his word, Drakken was standing on the grounds of Twin Pine Farm fully prepared to walk a cow home with him back to Swynlake. 

It was repulsive! Using the very cow Drakken had helped bring into this world against him. As if Vera was some sort of puppet or toy! Ridiculous. Chakraborty was no doubt just jealous that Vera liked him far more than her, since he actually spent time with her. Even now, he still made regular visits to the farm to see her.

Which was why none of the cows were particularly surprised when he showed up that night, darkening the door of the barn. Vera wiggled her way to the front, leaning her head over as Drakken approached. 

“Mi amor!” he greeted, reaching up to give her head pets. She lifted her chin to reach his face, her giant tongue coming out to lick at his ear and hair. It made him laugh, both in delight from her affection and because he was ticklish. “Come on. I’m getting you out of here.” 

Vera, of course, didn’t know what he was saying and just stared at him the way she always did, curious and interested to see what he would do next. He urged her to follow and she did. But then so did some of the other cows, wanting to get back out of the barn. 

“Hey! Daphne, stop it, you have to stay here,” he said, wondering where the heck this attitude was the last time he had tried to get all of them to follow him when he had been trying to steal them. 

Back when- …

…

Anyway. 

Just as Drakken was trying to get Nellie and Eloise to move so Vera could get past them, a very odd sound came from outside. 

Everyone in the barn froze. 

Waiting…waiting…

And there it came again, only closer that time. It didn’t sound like anything Drakken had ever heard before, stuck somewhere between a howl and a yell. It made his stomach clench and start feeling sick, thinking something was out there and hurt by the way it was carrying on. 

“What the-?” Drakken said aloud, the second one having jostled him from his opossum like state. But so did the cows. They started getting antsy, movements quick and erratic and Drakken knew it wasn’t a good spot to be in, surrounded by hundreds of pounds of beings that were getting spooked. “Hey, hey! It’s okay! It’s okay, I’ll- I’m going to check it out.” 

Drakken shooed the cows back, away from the door, so that he could slip through it and back out into the night. He made sure to put the locking mechanism back into place, but didn’t click it back, he just wanted to keep the cows from nudging open the door if they decided to stage a great escape to see what was going on out there, too. 

He frowned at the open expanse of the farmland, having to squint to make out anything in the dark. His eyes had long since adjusted but they weren’t great. After all, he was supposed to be wearing corrective lenses but didn’t since he associated them with who he had been before the lab accident. And he had never cared to stick his fingers in his eyes, so hadn’t wanted contacts. 

All this to say, he couldn’t see very well standing there. 

But he didn’t have to have 20/20 vision to see the giant pair of glowing eyes that caught his attention. Drakken froze, trying to make out if they were eyes or just some sort of reflective surface. 

They blinked and glinted, getting closer. 

A growl emanated from where they were, deep and throaty. 

Slowly, Drakken reached into his pocket for the flashlight he had brought with him. He drew it out and clicked it on. 

The beam shot forward, illuminating the area where the eyes were. A figure appeared within the dark. A large catlike creature stood out in the pasture, but it wasn’t like any natural creature Drakken had read about. Magical or otherwise. It was too long, mouth too wide for its head, eyes too far apart to be for any predator. Its claws were huge, just like the teeth that were bared to him within that too big mouth, as if it had been made to fit them all instead of being formed from a practical evolutionary standpoint. Its fur was stringy, coated in mud and something else that made it clump together oddly, dark in color but not completely black now that the light was shining on it. 

They stared at one another for a good while, Drakken and that…thing. 

They probably would have continued had it not been for the moo’s that sounded out behind him from the barn. 

He watched those big eyes dart to it, the sound of its breathing getting drawn out like a sigh. A stretch of pink and black tongue reached around the rows of teeth to wet its lips before letting it hang out as it panted. 

It took a step forward. 

“Hey!” Drakken shouted, making it stop. He swallowed down the fear that had been building inside him ever since he heard that eerie sound and clutched his flashlight. “Get out of here!” 

The thing answered back with a low grunt. 

“You heard me!” he yelled, lifting up his other arm to wave it away. “I don’t care how scary looking you are! You aren’t getting these cows. So go look for dinner somewhere else!” 

 Oh, if only anyone listened to him. 

The giant cat came forward in a fast rush of limbs and Drakken only had time to think to get out of the way! He threw himself to the side, hitting the ground just as the beast ran head first into the barn doors. Its claws dragged down the wood as it flopped onto the ground, too, the hit having been a hard one as it had been running at full force. 

Drakken didn’t waste any time then, scrambling up to his feet. Inside the cows were going a bit crazy, he could hear their noises of terror and shuffling hooves as they no doubt felt like they were trapped in that barn. If only they knew how much worse it was out there. He started to make a break for it before he caught the beast sitting up, shaking its head to re-orientate itself. The cow’s noises had caught its attention again and it started to paw at the doors, trying to get it open. 

“What did I just say?” Drakken shouted. “Stay away from them!” 

The thing turned its head sharply to the side so that its eye was right on him. He watched the pupil dilate and retract in the beam of his flashlight. 

“Come on,” he said, waving his hands at it now in a way to entice it toward him rather than away. Drakken took a few steps backward, preparing for what was to come. “Come on!” 

And the chase began. 

Drakken led the creature away from the barn and only had a moment of relief for that before realizing that he was no doubt going to get torn to little pieces now. He could feel it gaining on him and dared to look over his shoulder to watch. It didn’t run right, its legs too long and gangly, looking like it had no idea how to use them as it tilted from side to side. At least it wasn’t a very confident predator. If this was just some regular wildcat or something like a Wampus he would have probably been dead already. 

He headed back toward the road, hopping over the fence, but his foot got stuck, tripping him on the way down. Drakken hit the ground again and it gave time for the creature to get to him, crawling up and after him. Its large paw swiped down, claws cutting into the fabric of his jacket and shirt. He had attempted to roll out of the way so they caught him in the side, dragging across the skin of his stomach, following the arch of his ribs. 

He yelled out in pain, which seemed to startle the creature. It walked over him, turning its neck unnaturally so that it could peer down at him. It leaned forward, sniffing, before pulling back and letting out that growling noise again before looking like it was going to lean down again. 

Only this time, its mouth was open, sharp teeth on display once more. It tried to snap at him, but Drakken put his hands up, digging his hands into its neck and keeping it at arms length away from his face. Its paws came up to try swiping his arms away, claws digging into the skin there, too. 

Drakken, who most certainly did not want to be dead and definitely didn’t want to die like this, mustered up the strength to draw his knees up, getting his legs back and feet under the creature, and pushed, kicking up into the underbelly of it. 

It drew back, howling in pain, but didn’t move off of him, so he did it again. 

Then the thing stopped altogether, standing up at attention and stock still before it started making another awful sound. This time it was a hacking. 

Its back arched, the fur there puffing up along its spine. Drakken could feel it convulse under his hands and only realized too late what was about to happen next. 

The thing’s mouth opened over him and vomited next to him, the splatter of it hitting his face and hair, his clothes. 

“Ulgah!” Drakken said, turning his head to see a pile of black gunk that looked close to tar. In the middle, slowly being revealed as the liquid-y substance slid off, was a shiny purple stone, light from within looking more like shadow than it did actual light. 

He flinched when he felt something wet against his hand and turned back to find a cat sitting on top of him, head in his hands. Its rough tongue was lapping at his skin. 

It was a cat. 

An ordinary house cat. 

He pulled his hands back and caught another glint in the dark, something metallic lightly clinking. Drakken reached to the side of him, wincing at the protest his wounds gave, to get ahold of his flashlight. 

On the cat was a collar. On the collar was a tag.

“Grover,” he read. The cat blinked slowly at him before jumping off his chest and walking off down the road, seemingly unbothered by the whole thing. Drakken struggled to turn over onto his stomach, hand clutching at the wounds in an effort to keep the skin from parting from itself anymore than it already was. He got a knee under him and pushed up to his feet. 

“You…! You look nothing like Grover!” he called after the cat. “He’s blue!” 

He got a low meerow in reply. 

“Pah.” Drakken waved a hand at the cat that he could barely make out now. The glint of the stone below caught his eye and he frowned, looking down at it. Jeez. That thing had turned a harmless cat into a cow craving beast? 

There was a whisper in the dark as Drakken watched it. A low voice in his ear. 

He lifted his foot and stomped down hard, the heel of his boot crushing the thing under it. The stone broke apart, light fizzling out with it. 

Maybe he would come to regret that later but the last time he’d messed with a glow-y rock he’d gotten shock therapy for, like, days! Weeks, even! No way was he going through that again. 

“Vera,” he said, and trudged back over to the fence. Up and over, across the farmland again, and back to the barn. He pulled open the doors, having to clutch one to stay standing as he looked inside. All the cows looked over at him and Vera came trotting over, pushing her head under his hand. He sighed, patting her as she wanted, letting his hand brush over her head. 

“Everyone okay in here?” 

No one replied, of course, but he hadn’t expected them to. They were cows, after all. 

#title: (back at the barn yard) #tw mild violence #tw vomitting

[saltsicklover]

24,901 Miles

Title: 24,901 Miles

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First Person)

Word Count: 1,800

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing, Angst and Fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

We have always been the most intimate in crowded rooms; yards apart eyes catching each others' knowing glances. The way his fingers trace gently over the Windsor knot of his tie, adjusting the already perfect garment- maybe he still hasn't gotten used to the way the silk sits against the collar of his shirt, or maybe he knows my gaze will be drifting over the bloom of scabs and scrapes that decorate his knuckles like jewels. 

He cut his hair but his hands still drift up to the sides of his face, brushing his fingertips over the well trimmed, effectively shaved hair in an effort to tuck it behind his ears. I can feel a smile tug at the corners of my lips when he catches himself half way through the movement, arm bent, hand reaching, before he stumbles over his own movements, electing to run a hand over his dark stubble instead. I catch the sideways dash of his eyes as he drops his hand back to his side, effectively tucking it in his pocket to keep himself from making another false move. 

I catch him watching me adjust the straps of my high heel, one foot up on a chair. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching- studying- as I struggle with the small buckles. By the time I set both feet back on the ground and pull the hem of my dress back down in place, he has drifted to the other side of the room again, making small talk with the other party goers. I hold a glass up to him from across the room, the chilled champagne numbing the tips of my fingers, a sharp contrast to warmth of the blush that rolls over on my skin at his smile. 

Our paths drift back together as the night rolls on, the mugginess of the late summer air dissipating into the most refreshing cool breeze. He stands outside, eyes wandering over the lights of the city, the movement slow and deliberate, like he is trying to take in every single twinkle and blink of each individual light of the cityscape below us. I watch the dance of the lights through his whiskey dark eyes and nothing has felt more augur than this moment- I could see our entire future in his eyes, each moment written in a flurry of city lights. 

"James," My voice small and strained from overuse. I clear my throat a bit, before trying again, "James." He turns to look at me this time, pieces of myself melting like candle wax while the sense of smoke billows through my head. "What's a doll dizzy man like yourself doing out here all alone?" The smile that blooms across his face is the brightest I have ever seen. 

"The prettiest dame at the party just wandered out here, so why on Earth would I be in there with Tony and the like getting sauced?" He chuckles, eyes wandering over the crest of my shoulder and down to my wrist. 

"How long are we going to keep this up, James?" I question him, gesturing between us. He doesn't bother to turn and meet my eyes, his sight still falling over the skyline.

"How long are you going to keep calling me James?" He shoots back, rubbing at the back of his neck, more in an attempt to work out the anxious energy that builds between us than anything. I wander up to his side, positioning myself at the railing. The metal is cold through the fabric of my dress but the heat that rolls off James is more than enough to stifle the goosebumps that threaten to encapsulate my skin. 

"You look nice in purple," I dodge his question, fingers gripping over the railing to steady myself. We brush elbows. My heart thrums beneath my ribcage, blood coursing through my ears. 

"I didn't even think they made ties out of silk anymore. After they started rationing for the war effort, Ma always bought Pa and I wool ties. These are much more comfortable," He runs his hand down the length of his tie, palm brushing it flat against his chest, "But I'm always worried this damn knot is comin' loose." He cocks his body more towards mine, eyes still planted firmly on the silk tie. I turn towards him, my hand finding purchase on the soft silk knot, the other swatting away his hand before pulling the material tight with careful fingertips. 

He ventures a careful glance at me, tongue poking out from between his teeth. I run a hand down his chest for a moment before pulling back, turning my attention back towards the darkness of New York. I swear I could feel his heart threatening to break through his chest, but I try not to dwell on it. 

"Do your hands hurt?" My voice is quieter now. 

"Not much," He shrugs, "Why, you worried about me, doll?" 

I can't fight the sigh that escapes my lips. "Don't do that, James," 

"Don't do what, doll?" He questions me, throwing a look my way, over the bulk of his shoulder. His eyebrows are furrowed and low, a soft but perturbed look painting his features. 

"That! Call me 'doll'" I lean down, pressing my forehead to the chilled railing in a shallow attempt to keep a level head, "You can't just dodge my question and then pull shit like that, James, that's not how it works," I huff. 

"Don't go acting all cockeyed, thinking I'm the only one dodging questions here, doll," And there it is again, that damn nickname that manages to break me and put me back together again with four simple, little letters. I know we aren't going to get anywhere with all of this back and fourth, sometimes, something's gotta give. 

"I call you James because that's your name," Our elbows brush again and I can't tell if he did it on purpose or if we are just drawn to each other. 

"I don't know how many time's I've gotta tell you this, but you can call me Bucky," His voice is somewhere between a huff and a plea, either way exasperated. I can't call him that, no matter how many times he asks, because that's what his friends call him. That's what his team calls him. That's what a girlfriend should call him. I am none of those things. 

"Eleven."

"What?"

"You've asked me to call you that eleven times. Every single party that we have been at-" I want to say 'together' but I stop myself, because we have never been at a single one of these damn parties together. He turns to me but I don't face him. It's my turn to make constellations out of the city lights. "I have been at eleven of these damn things for Tony, and I don't even know why he would want a journalist at his parties, but I show up every time. Not because I want to see him, either."

"Eleven? You counted?" His tone is soft like it's shadowing some sort of disbelief instead of interrogative like it should be.

"How long are we going to keep up whatever this is?" I look him in the eye now, my tone pleading to mask the hurt blooming behind my ribcage. I can feel pinprick tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes. He just looks at me with disbelief, no, refusal. 

"You counted how many time's I have asked you to call me 'Bucky', and yet, you still won't do it. You keep calling me James, and yeah, that's my name, doll, but you're too, you're too-" He gestures up and down, palms to the sky like he is pleading with an all knowing force.

"I'm too what, James?" There is pain in my words now. I blink back the tears, refusing to let them fall. There is too much space between us now, not physically, but emotionally- we are more distant now than we have ever been. James lets out a gruff sound of annoyance. 

"You're too goddamn important to me, okay?" He almost shouts at me, hands buried in his hair. "You know who called me James? Hydra. When I wasn't 'Soldier', or 'Asset', or 'Weapon' I was James. That name makes me sick, now." 

"Oh, God, I am- I am so sorry. I didn't, I didn't know," I attempt to apologize, neither of us attempting to make eye contact. 

"It's not your fault, don't worry about it," He tried to brush it off, waving his hand.

"I can't believe I have been coming to these parties to see you and I've just ended up insulting you every single time! Oh my God, I am so sorry." I burry my face in my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment and raspberry blush that now stains my face. My whole body burns as I relive every time I have called him James, over and over again on fast forward. "I don't blame you if you want to get as far away from me as possible."

"You know, the closer we are together is technically the furthest away from each other we can ever possibly be, if you trace the path around the Earth the other direction," He takes a half a step closer to me, closer than he has ever been before, "So, sure, I can get further away," 

"What are you doing?" I question him, voice wavering. 

"I'm getting as far away from you as possible," He reaches out, grabbing my hands in his, enveloping them with the wide expanse of his fingers. He pulls me closer, placing my hands against his chest firmly before snaking one hand around my waist, the other coming up to brush over my cheek. He leans forward, capturing my lips with his in a heat filled kiss that leaves me breathless. He pulls back quickly, eyes searching my face for any sort of discomfort.  A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, my heart fluttering in my chest. I let myself step just a fraction closer, my chest pressing against his. He smiles down at me, eyes sparkling brighter than any of the lights in the city. I run my knuckles over his cheekbone.

"You never did answer my question,"

"I am going to keep this up as long as you let me. There is no one I'd rather be further away from, doll," He winks at me. 

"24,901miles between us and you're still a flirt," I chide, pushing his shoulder playfully. 

"I've been flirting with you for eleven of these parties, I'm just happy it finally got us somewhere."

"Me too, Bucky, me too," I pull him down for a kiss, but the wide smile he wears leaves me giggling against his lips from 24,901miles away.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 1: Bad Things Are Comin’

When a sudden death happens at the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch, Stella Daniels is forced deeper into the world of her employer, John Dutton. It’s much further than her experience from just working with the horses and being an extra wrangler when needed. Now Stella, her brother Ryan, and her best friend Kayce; her employer’s youngest semi-estranged son, have to navigate finding their place within the ranch’s not-so-clean dealings and the challenges that come their way.

Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, character death, grief, panic, language because I mean let’s be honest we’ve all seen the show lol

Word count: 3,803ish?

Stella Daniels breathed a sigh of relief as she leaned backward on a fence in a round pen belonging to Grand Springs Ranch. She was lending a helping hand to her good friend Olivia. Olivia helped run the broodmare portion of her parent’s ranch, and this year the broodmares were giving both women a run for their money. There had been so many speed bumps this year.

Olivia sidled up beside her to join in the viewing of a new broodmare prospect. They wanted to see her movement, her temperament, and also talk to the current owner about her AQHA titles. The usual things they looked for in a good broodmare. Olivia and her parents were very strict with things being ethical and not just breeding to breed. Stella respected that.

The mare in question was a pretty little chestnut thing, spunky and only 6 years old. Stella enjoyed watching her graceful lope. The mare had a bit of an attitude, but that wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She had been taught well when it came to horses and getting temperament under control. She had faith she would be able to have this girl right as rain in no time. She tapped Olivia’s arm and gave a nod of her approval, to which Olivia agreed.

Stella fixed her glasses and saw movement out of her peripheral. She looked over to see one of the full time hands rushing toward them with a concerned look on his face.

Olivia’s eyebrows scrunched together, “Tim, what’s wrong?”

“There was a phone call from the Yellowstone for Miss Stella.” Tim looked almost nervous.

“Was it Ryan?” Stella pushed herself away from leaning on the fence. “Is he okay?” Ryan would occasionally send a text, but always knew she might not have her phone. He only ever called the barn phone in an emergency when she was here.

“Something big happened. He said to tell you he’s fine, but they need you home right away.”

Her eyes glazed over as she unfocused on everything except her rising heartbeat. Her mouth dropped open as her breathing started to come out in shallow puffs. She didn’t feel when Olivia first grabbed her arm, but it was like she had been electrocuted the second she realized Olivia’s hand was there.

“Liv, I gotta go!” She bolted for the barn to grab her things.

Olivia responded, telling her to go, family comes first; her part of the job could be worked on at a later time, but Stella never heard those words as she ran as fast as her feet would take her.

She didn’t hear anything until she got back to the Yellowstone. As soon as her SUV tires hit the gravel of the ranch, Stella sped up to the main house. Seeing the flurry of activity happening there, she figured that would be the best place to start. Her SUV was barely in park before she hopped out and ran across the grass desperately searching for her brother. There were news vans, reporters, police, EMS, and livestock police all crowded around in the front yard.

It was at that moment that her hearing came back all at once. The chatter from every direction was disorienting. Her eyes were looking but not seeing. Every face was blending in with the next one. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, quicker with each passing second.

She pushed her glasses up while calling out, “Ryan!” Not caring who would look in her direction. “Ryan!!” She hollered out again, sounding more panicked than the first time. Multiple heads snapped in her direction. Lloyd spotted her through the mass of people and moved quickly to her. He grabbed her by the arm gently and guided her to the porch where it was a little more secluded. He knew he had to get her focus. If he didn’t, Stella would raze the whole ranch to ground looking for her brother.

“He’s finishing up something in the house, but he’ll be out soon. He’s okay.” He made sure to try and keep direct eye contact with Stella, trying to keep her glued to the porch. She continued to look around trying to peek at every face that walked by them. She had to physically see her brother to accept that he was alright.

“Stella, look at me!” Lloyd said sternly and shook her to grab her attention. “Your brother is alright. Come with me.”

She finally allowed herself to catch her breath. She trailed closely behind Lloyd, hot on his heels, to the large section of the porch by the front door. He had her sit in one of the chairs, and asked her to stay put. He wasn’t sure exactly how long Ryan would be, but he would be coming out the main door. Stella was in the perfect place to catch him the second he walked out. Lloyd knew Ryan would be glad to see his little sister.

With a numb expression she asked, “What the fuck happened, Lloyd?”

“Some of the herd moved onto tribal land.” He took a deep breath, trying to figure out how he was going to continue this explanation.

“Oh shit, no.” Stella’s shoulders dropped as she whispered.

“Well, both groups butted heads and here we are.” He wasn’t trying to be vague, but he also didn’t want to drop too much on her at once. Especially about Lee.

Stella knew that both groups didn’t always get along, but she never imagined it coming to something that required this much attention from police and news alike. She rubbed her fingertips on her palms trying to get feeling back. Ever since she left Grand Springs her hands had been numb.

Movement from the front door startled Stella into action. She hopped up from the chair and made her way quickly to the door, weaving through livestock police as she went. Kayce and Jamie came out of the house. Kayce, her best friend of 12 years, looked rough. When Stella saw the blood on his shirt, her heart nearly jumped from her chest.

“My God, Kayce!” She rushed over to him to try and get a better look. “Are you okay?” There was a mumbled, “‘m fine, Stell.” He grabbed her hands before she could touch his shirt. Knowing she would thank him later. He gave her hands a squeeze while taking a deep breath to ground himself. Almost as if he was using her as a tether.

Light brown eyes met darker brown. She finally saw the sadness that resided there. Her eyebrows scrunched together and she tilted her head to the left, and wordlessly asked what happened. His eyes dropped and his shoulders looked heavy. Stella’s breathing picked up again, worried by whatever change may be coming. She nodded to Kayce, knowing this was a conversation for another time.

“You’re brother should be right behind me. Go get him, and we’ll talk later.” He squeezed her hand again and let go. More people coming out of the house prompted Stella to give his arm a quick squeeze and move toward the door.

Her eyes locked on her brother, “Ryan!” She propelled herself forward and gripped him in a tight hug. Now that she could physically see that he was okay, her blood pressure started to return to normal. Ryan was her rock. She wouldn’t even dare to fathom the consequences of not having him around.

He squeezed her back and moved them off to the side. He held her tight. Primarily for her, but it also gave him solace because she was safe back here at the ranch.

“Let’s go down to the bunkhouse where it’s quiet. We gotta talk.” He needed to tell her about Lee.

Stella sat forward in the chair bracing herself on her knees. Her brother had just told her Lee was gone. She felt like she was going to vomit. Lee and herself hadn’t been as tight knit as she and Kayce, but she had known both of them since she was 14. He had taught her just as much about horses as Kayce. Hell, they partnered together to train the horses for the ranch. She was flabbergasted. Speechless. She struggled because that very well could have been her brother.

She took deep breaths to keep the nausea down, and placed a hand on her forehead. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and sat back swallowing the lump that was lodged in her throat. She felt guilty for even thinking that, but she also understood the look that Kayce had given her on the porch fully now.

There weren’t any tears being shed. Ryan was concerned, but then remembered that his little sister didn’t like to cry in front of people. Not even him. If she did, it was because she had no control anymore. He didn’t know how she dealt with human death. Animal death? He had seen her deal with it a thousand times over because of the ranch. The work on a ranch doesn’t stop unfortunately. But the untimely passing of a friend? He was worried about how this would go.

“Were you with them?” Stella cleared her throat.

Ryan bit his lip and nodded. “I was a few feet away, and then I got swept off to the side dealing with something else and Kayce was alone with his brother.”

“Oh my god, he was alone? That’s the second time that’s happened to him.”

Ryan knew she was talking about Kayce’s mother and how that whole situation went down. She felt horrible that Kayce had to face that by himself.

Stella knew she would probably cry later on when she was by herself, but she couldn’t even drum up a response to her brother. Other than the occasionally quiet whispered, ‘what the fuck.’ She could understand the disagreement about the herd, and knew things could get rash at times, but her mind was blown that it came to this kind of firing point.

It had been quiet for about five minutes with her staring at the wall where the sink was. “You still with me?”

Stella slowly moved her head to look at Ryan. “Hmm?” She said softly. The energy slowly drained out of her the longer she sat there. He came over and sat next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in sideways.

Ryan comforted her. “Stay with me Stellee.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting out a big breath, trying to pretend she was anywhere else but here.

It was quiet for a few moments. Ryan would occasionally rub Stella’s arm. Since he wasn’t sure how far her reaction to the loss would take her, he treaded lightly. He didn’t know if she would react now or later, and he definitely didn’t want to come up on her breaking her hand through a wall.

“I’ve gotta go find Kayce.” Stella started to move restlessly before she got up.

“Yeah, but don’t you think he would want space?”

“If I know anything, space is the last thing his mind needs. And I know he hasn’t been home yet, so he doesn’t have Monica here. I can’t just sit by, Ryan.”

Ryan sighed. His little sister could be one of the most endearing people. If someone had a problem, she refused to let them carry it alone. He was worried one day her back might break.

“I’m gonna go back up to the big house. He’s probably still there.”

Now that the activity had quieted down, Stella poked her head in through the front door. She ran into Beth sitting in the living room, looking very much like she needed to catch her breath. When Stella entered the room she looked up from her long gaze.

“Funny how everyone else employed here knocks, except you. Why is that?” Stella breathed out a sigh at the accusation from Beth. She knew Beth was just in defense mode and didn’t mean to spit fire at her. They got along for the most part.

“Beth… I haven’t knocked on this door since I was 15. I wanted to come check on everyone.”

“There’s nothing to be done except wait for the plan. You know that. You came here to check up on my baby brother, didn’t you?”

“Well, he is my best friend. And you and I both know that being alone is something your brother doesn’t need right now.”

“And you thought you would swoop in and be his savior, huh?

“Not a savior. Just a shoulder.” Stella was getting frustrated.

“Beth, leave her alone.” Kayce’s voice came from behind them. He came from the hallway toward the back of the main sitting room. He nodded toward the porch and Stella did a 180 to make her way around. He placed a hand at the small of her back as he directed her to keep moving. There was a small zip up her spine at the contact. Her back tensed.

He wanted to get them both out of the room before his sister could spit more grief. Stella shook her head and squeezed Beth’s shoulder quickly as they walked by and back out the front door.

Kayce sighed. “I’m sorry about her.”

“You should know by now you don’t have to apologize for your sister. I would have been worried if she hadn’t responded like that.” They shared a chuckle.

Stella seated herself on one of the chairs by the little table. Kayce made himself comfortable in the other. They both gazed out at the vast ranch. They zoned out and let the silence embrace them. Today was chaotic for both of them, in different ways, but tiring nonetheless.

“How the hell did a feud about some cattle that wandered through a broken fence produce this end result? Like, how did we get here Kayce?” Stella was very confused. She hadn’t been on the ranch when the arguing had started about the cattle, land, and who owed the livestock.

“I mean, I understand that it’s a very tender subject about land and all, but…,” she didn’t really know how to continue. Thinking about it made her brain hurt. She sighed.

“My head is spinning too.”

Stella whispered. “Is it selfish if I say I’m glad you’re still here?” Stella adjusted her glasses as she moved her eyes away from him. It was quiet as both of them contemplated her question. Her admission. In a way it was selfish, but he understood the sentiment she was trying to get at.

“I’m not really up to talking just yet, Stell. After I come back for the —,” he halted trying to figure out how to avoid saying the word funeral, finally ignoring the word all together. “We can talk then, okay?”

“I understand.” She pushed her glasses up. “If you or Monica need anything, please let me know and I’ll get it to you guys with lightning speed. Okay? Even if you need someone to take little man for the day or something.” He gave her a look that only the two of them seemed to understand. They stood and bear hugged like their lives depended on it. She knew it would be a few days before he would actually talk. Stella would wait as long as he needed her to.

Neither of them let go for a short minute. They knew that once they did, cursed reality would set in again. For this short span they felt like they were kids again without a worry in the world.

Stella murmured softly, “I’m so sorry this happened,” as she released him from the hug. He nodded, giving her one last glance before he made his way back inside to gather his things to go home.

"Men and brethren, let me freely speak unto you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried... " the Father's voice faded as Stella scanned the crowd of people that had come around for Lee’s service. Everyone from the ranch was there and accounted for amongst other people that knew the family. The only one missing was Kayce. Her eyebrows pulled together. She looked at Monica, and she gave Stella a quiet shrug. He couldn’t have been far. There’s also no way he would have missed his brother’s funeral. She tried to be nonchalant about looking around, but she made eye contact with Beth who gave her a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.

Stella rolled her eyes slightly and kept looking. Not far off she saw a horse that just stood in place. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but from the looks of it, the horse was a mustang. In these particular hills of the ranch property, the most you would find would be a quarter horse if one got out of its designated pasture. Maybe an Appendix or two. No one, that she was aware of, had brought a horse with them today, however.

Just barely above the high grass up at the grave sites, she could see a dirty blond head move back and forth. There he was. She looked to Monica who nodded her permission and Stella silently exited the group. She knew that if anything, Lee would have wanted her to go over to his brother. Lee always joked that they were each other’s Huckleberry. Attached at the hip, and where one was the other was surely not far behind. Most certainly to “fuck some shit up, cause some chaos and leave” as Lee would have said.

Stella’s fond smile at the memory faded as she got closer and heard sniffling coming from Kayce. Her face softened and her heart bled for him. She sat down beside him. The horse paid her little attention, but snorted in acknowledgement and went back to grazing as she folded her legs beneath her. Kayce glanced at her from the side.

When he realized it was her, he turned slightly and made eye contact. Stella pulled her lips together in a small smile, and kept her eyes gentle. They simultaneously leaned toward each other, shoulders touching, as they looked forward. Stella reached over and rubbed his back.

She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close sideways and rubbed his arm to offer any sort of comfort to him while they sat there. They both pretended that they were anywhere else, at any other event than his brother’s funeral. She couldn’t believe this had happened, and she felt helpless that she couldn’t change it or do anything to make the hurt less, other than what she was doing right now.

They both heard as the Father finished his sermon, but they remained seated. Even when Stella felt eyes on her back, she stayed. John surveyed the pair closely. That girl, well woman now, had been there through the thick of almost everything for his youngest son since she and her brother showed up on the ranch 12 years ago.

At first, John had been hesitant to have an extra child on the ranch. Especially with his new young wrangler being her parental figure. She turned out to be a great kid, who would pull her own weight and then some. He slowly started to come around to the idea when Kayce started to put up a fight for Stella and Ryan.

She also was the first to throw knuckles when anyone, or anything, came for his youngest. John would swear that she would throw herself in front of a bullet for Kayce. Hell, she threw herself in front of grizzly for him once. Evelyn would have liked her. John couldn’t even begin to think of ways to thank her for keeping Kayce grounded along with Monica’s help. He cleared his throat and came up beside the twosome.

“He's one hell of a horse.” They heard from Stella’s right as John seated himself next to the pair. Stella removed her arm from Kayce’s shoulders, but remained quiet. She wasn’t a part of this conversation.

Kayce sniffled at his dad’s words. “Yeah. Ain't got the breeding of your stud, but he has a heart.”

“I know. I saw.”

“He would have died for me. He almost did.”

John changed the subject. “You want to stay for supper? You can put him in the barn.”

Kayce sniffed loudly and stood. He carefully draped the lead rope over Stella’s lap and handed it to his father. “No. I brought him for you. You can put him in the barn.” She watched as he quickly left to catch up with his family.

“I can take care of him for you, sir.” Stella offered as they both stood.

John looked at her from behind his dark sunglasses and shook his head. “Thank you, Stella, but I’ll take this one up.” As he walked away with the horse, she pursed her lips to the side realizing she was alone. She looked back to the gravesite. She patted her legs trying to decide if she wanted to go back over. ‘By the time you’ve argued with yourself, you could’ve already done it.’ She rolled her eyes at herself and started walking over.

“Hey Lee. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” A little bird sang its song from high in a tree. Stella smiled sadly and fixed her glasses. She hoped it was Lee saying he was listening. She still hadn’t come to grips that he was gone.

“I’ll do what I can for the family, the ranch. To the best of my ability anyhow. Especially for Kayce. I know he was the favorite.” Stella forced herself to look at his place marker. “I guess you’ve left me no choice but to take over your spot as the lead for the horses. If your dad agrees to put me there.” It was a heavy decision, to choose to do nearly anything for the family. It could come with a hefty price tag, but the Dutton’s and the wranglers were all she and Ryan had.

She looked off to where everyone had gone and noticed Ryan was still waiting in the wings for her. “I should probably go catch up with everyone else, but I’ll be around again.” She brushed her skirt off and headed up to the big house on the hill. Everyone was invited for supper. She wasn’t about to turn down Gator’s food. Lee wouldn’t have wanted her to either.

After supper everyone had congregated outside to get some fresh air and talk amongst themselves. The wranglers had parted to one side and Stella stood next to her brother and Colby.

She could see John with Beth and Jamie. They stared off at the helicopter, speaking to each other quietly. Lloyd brought her attention back to the group when he asked her a question.

“I’m sorry, what Lloyd?”

“I asked if you were spendin’ the night, lil’ bit?” She yawned at the exact moment he asked.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I probably should. I think my overnight bag from Olivia’s is still in my car.”

Comments, thoughts, and commentary is welcome! Just please be gentle lol. 🤓

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #luke grimes #ian bohen #ian bohen : ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfiction #Steady Heart #SH Chapter One #finally lmao

[myckicade]

Title: Barter

Series: The Last of Us

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: It's been a number of years since you first made your home in Jackson. Your house is a cozy little two-story, with beautiful flowers, an herb garden, and a small flock of ducks roaming the yard. The old barn-turned-garage beside the house serves as your veterinary clinic. You do your part around the settlement, helping, providing, and carving out a little bit of peace in a world determined to provide none.

When Ellie stops by your place, visibly distressed that her horse has gone off her food, you don't hesitate to get out to the stables. There, you encounter Joel, who offers to help with maintenance to your clinic, in exchange for your help with his daughter's horse. You aren't terribly concerned with the repayment, not when there is an ailing creature to tend to, but you strike the deal to ease Joel's mind.

As a woman who has been repaid in a variety of forms - vegetables, eggs, clothing - a trade of services really isn't all that bad. Joel is a nice enough guy, helpful and respectful, and he does good work. Over time, one trade leads to another, and another, leaving you in each other's company more often than you'd originally bargained for. There's nothing between you, beyond a growing friendship. He's a handsome man, and a fine catch, but more hasn't really crossed your mind. But small towns talk, even the good ones, and talk could easily change everything.

A/N: The amount of research I did on this, just to make it half-believable, is truly startling. Heh. I promise, no one will be growing mango fruit in the middle of a Wyoming winter. Some details will be from personal experience.

Also, please note that this will be far more plot-heavy than smut-filled. I wrote romance novels for years, and… I need plot. Heh.

Finally, please remember that this is the only chapter that will appear in the main series tag. Please follow #TloUBarterFic or #TLoU Barter Fic for future chapters.

Tag List: @stevetonycupcakes

Chapter One: Bramble of Ida

March 24th, 2024

A bitter morning wind whips down the street as you all but stagger back toward your house. There is very little noise happening around you, other than the creaking of tree branches, and the soft crunches of snow beneath your boots. The rest of the town is still asleep, save for those on patrol, and the group on rotation to feed and tend the livestock. How you envy anyone still with head pressed to pillow.

Grief, what a night. Tugging off one glove, you rub at the back of your aching neck with your bare fingers. It does little to relieve tension, but you lie to yourself, all the same. For a moment. All too soon, the frigid air invades up the sleeve of your jacket, sinking into your newly-exposed skin until you are left shivering. With a quiet curse, you put your hand back in your glove, and continue toward home. Fucking winter. It’s a beautiful season to watch, but a real bitch to have to contend with, in person. At the very least, it’s almost over. A few more weeks, and signs of spring will begin to turn up.

Just… a few more weeks.

The sun is just beginning to peek through the trees as you pass the Monroe house. It’s a lovely little place, two-story, painted a soft blue. There’s a basketball hoop mounted above the garage door, patio furniture under a tarp on the front lawn, and… You pause, and chuckle. The chickens from the Patterson place, next door, have once again invaded Wendy Monroe’s snow-covered garden space. The gate has swung open, the latch likely giving out with the cold, and the chickens look to be enjoying a few minutes of pre-discovery peace in pecking through the snow at whatever remains of last year’s plants. Wendy’s a good sport, and doesn’t usually mind the squawk-happy little visitors, but it’s far too cold for them to be out of their coop, unsupervised.

With a heavy sigh, you consider that thought a second time, and a third. The temperatures have dipped over the last few hours. Judging from the thermometer you’d seen in the hog pen, there had been a loss of nearly eighteen degrees during your six-hour visit. It certainly doesn’t feel any warmer now, and in another hour those birds will be in serious trouble. With that in mind, you make a sharp pivot to the right, and trespass onto the Monroe property.

“All right, ladies,” you call, as quietly as will get their attention. No reason to risk waking the occupants of either household. If someone of your profession can’t handle something this simple, they ought to run you out of town. “Time to get your fluffy little butts back home!” The chickens pay you little to no mind at all, until you approach the open garden gate. Five sets of startled eyes are suddenly staring you down, leaving you in a smirk. Adorable creatures, chickens. Sassy, snippy, and full of surprises. You really should raise some of your own.

Scratch that, so to speak. You hardly need to invite the chance of being outsmarted by a flock of birds. What was that thought, again, about being run out of town?

You fight back a chuckle, and change tactics. “Come on,” you urge, waving your hands in the air, just enough to get the chickens moving. Sure enough, the Queen Bee of the flock lets out an irritated sound and flutters her way back out of the gate. It takes a moment before the rest of the girls follow behind her. Not one of them is pointing in the direction of home, but they’ve left you with enough room to lock the gate.

Well, scratch that. You manage to get it closed, but that lock is definitely frozen.

The Patterson’s coop, an old garden shed that has long since been converted and insulated, is only a few yards away. Getting them there, though, will be a task of near-Herculean proportions… For one who doesn’t know where the Pattersons keep the chicken feed. Lucky for you, you’ve been in to check on the ladies more than once, and have firsthand knowledge of their setup. Blessedly, the snow isn’t terribly deep, and you make it over to the coop and back within seconds. Holding up your hands, you shake the cupful of feed you snagged. Once again, five sets of very interested eyes are turned toward you.

“That’s more like it,” you murmur, grinning. “Now, come on.” You take a couple of slow steps backward and shake the cup again. It takes only a few seconds for the chickens to come rushing toward you. You pick up your pace, shaking the food every few steps, so as not to lose their attention. As you move closer, a chorus of clucks rises from inside the coop. Apparently, you’ve caused quite a stir. The clucks come closer, louder and louder, and you glance over your shoulder to see that the remaining three chickens in the flock have wandered out to meet you.

Evidently, the garden lock isn’t the only fastening on the fritz.

Rounding to the front of the coop, careful not to step on any of the new partygoers, your assumption is proven correct. The swing door to the coop is wide open, the straw inside blown all about, some spilling out on the ramp. The wind may have rattled the door open, loose as the lock looks from where you stand. You make a mental note to stop by and see Alan, this afternoon, to advise him to put something a little stronger on there.

For now, you lure the chickens back into the coop, spreading a little bit of feed across the inside edges of the enclosure. No use in throwing it in, just to make a mess for the Pattersons to have to worry about. The girls skitter their way inside, and, as soon as the last feathered behind is out of the way, you swing the door closed, removing your gloves to properly fasten the latch. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieve a leftover bit of jute twine, which you slip into the latch hole, loop around the lock fastening, and tie off into a sturdy, but easily removed knot. Once you are satisfied that the knot is in place, you give the door handle a little tug. There. That isn’t going anywhere.

“Night, girls,” you call, softly, as you replace the food cup into the appropriate bin. Pulling your gloves back on, you start back for the road, and back toward home. Once you’ve had some sleep, you’ll make sure to venture back out, and stop in to let both homeowners know it was you that came onto their respective properties. If you had any paper with you, you’d leave notes to explain, but calling back in a few hours will have to do.

Your house was already in your view before you noticed the chickens, just half a dozen places down the road. You’ve been looking forward to your bed since you last left it, the morning before. You need a shower first, and something to eat, both of which run you the risk of just falling asleep, standing up. Oh, well. A simple enough cost, exhaustion, for so rich a reward as you’d seen delivered, overnight. Miracles, even in this world, still manage to exist, every here and there.

Unfortunately, so do curses, another of which you swallow back as you spot someone standing on your front porch. Blowing out a puff of air, you make your way up the driveway, mentally preparing yourself for what you are about to hear. Anyone calling at such an ungodly hour as this surely has an emergency that needs seeing to. Funny, that’s the same thing you told yourself just ahead of midnight, the night before, as you’d flicked on one light after another, on your way to open the front door.

Yeah. So much for sleep.

The individual at your door – a man, from the looks of things – has his back to you as he raises his fist to knock. He’s certainly a solid looking gentleman, in jeans, a work jacket, and what looks to be a black hat. Quite frankly, it could be anybody, but most folks in town would be beating down your door and calling out your name to get your attention. You’re not used to this calm, polite knocking. Well, not before sunrise.

“Hey, there,” you call, as you approach the three steps at the side of your porch. Your visitor doesn’t turn around, instead knocking a second time. Odd. Shaking it off, you try again, a little bit louder. “Can I help you?” The man finally turns your way, clearly a bit off guard. It makes you feel bad to have startled him, enough that you find enough energy to put on a welcoming smile. “Sorry. I’m sure you weren’t expecting to be snuck up on.”

“Are you (y/n)?” he asks, with absolutely no preamble. You raise an eyebrow in response, smile failing you, considerably. The man’s features are a bit difficult to make out in the shadows, leaving you no clues as to the nature of his visit. Leave it to you to forget to turn on the porch light when you’d left the house.

“I am,” you reply, taking each step up at a slow, measured pace. He steps to the side to face you, now bringing his face into the light. Pleasant surprise, it’s a handsome one. A little rough, a little grey, but handsome, and distantly – suspiciously – familiar. Still, there’s no need to assume, right? “How can I help you, Mister…?”

The man makes a peculiar face, then rolls his eyes. “Sh-I’m sorry. My name is Joel.” He offers you a gloved hand. “Joel Miller.”

Ah. So, your second assumption of the morning has been proven correct. Your smile recovers, a bit, as you come close enough to return the handshake. Solid grip on him, you note, even if short-lived. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.” He nods once, politely, but doesn’t say anything in response. “What can I do for you?”

He wrings his hands together for a second, and glances to the side. “Ah, listen, I’m sorry to be stopping in so early,” he begins, voice as low and hushed as you figure he can make it. With a rich tone like that, it’s almost amusing. “Maria said you might be able to help me out. I was gonna’ wait ‘til later, but…” He trails off, somewhere between guilty and uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, your default setting of concerned is deepening. “One of your horses sick?” you ask, excusing yourself as you step around your visitor to open the front door. The sooner you can get to your stores, the sooner another living being might find some relief. Two, if you count the trouble Mr. Miller seems to be feeling.

“No,” he shoots back, almost instantly. You glance over your shoulder in surprise, to find Mr. Miller rubbing his neck in a self-conscious manner. It’s the perfect fit for the flustered look on his face. “No, uh… Sorry. No, it ain’t the horses. It’s, uh… My…” He sighs in frustration. “It’s Ellie. Have you met her?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure, yet.” The name certainly registers though, thanks to Tommy chatting away about his brother and niece, whenever the two of you cross paths. The man is terribly sweet and sentimental when the mood strikes. “What can I do for Ellie, then?” It might be the rising light playing tricks, but you could almost swear the man before you now is going a bit pink. Which, with men, can only mean one thing. Amused as you suddenly are, you keep a straight face. “Mr. Miller?”

“She…” He pauses, scratching a gloved index finger along his cheek. “You see, it’s her, uh… I mean, she’s got her… Erm…”

That tears it. You have to turn back toward the door, hiding both a grin and a silent cackle in your scarf. It’s so pitifully adorable, you almost don’t make it. “Follow me,” you instruct, trying like all hell to keep your voice good and steady as you open the front door and click on a light. You gesture for Mr. Miller to step inside your kitchen, which he does, removing his hat and closing the door behind himself. You peel off your gloves, then your jacket and hat, depositing all four items onto your countertop. “How much pain is she in?” you ask, opening the last cupboard before the window. From the corner of your eye, you see Mr. Miller fidgeting with his hat.

“Heat didn’t help, this time,” he explains, worry creeping into every syllable. Poor bastard. Not easy being the single father of a teenage girl. Mr. Miller is hardly the first dad to see you for this reason, and he likely will not be the last. “She’s a tough girl. Usually powers right through, but this time…” He fiddles with his hat again, and you look back to the cabinet, grabbing the first item you need as he continues to talk. “She’s in a bad way.”

You nod along as you get out everything you need. Once you have an assortment of tins in front of you, you begin taking pieces from the half-filled tins and mixing them into an empty one. Poor kid. Being a woman yourself, you get it. Especially now, when Advil and Tylenol are worth their weight in platinum. Which, to be fair, is completely useless nowadays, but that’s really beside the point.

A few moments pass in silence, save for the quiet clatter of your ingredients. “I’d say I was sorry to have woken you,” Mr. Miller says, eyes wandering over your kitchen, surely just for something to do. If you were any less focused on your task, you might feel a bit embarrassed at the cluttered state of your countertops. “But all the same, even though you were already up.”

Oh. You can’t help but let out a pitiful little laugh at that. “Truth be told, I haven’t been to bed, yet.”

“You haven’t?” he asks, teetering on startled. “You know what time it is, right?” There’s a bit of a smile playing on the man’s face, and you have to admit, he’s wearing it well.

“I’m aware,” you admit, placing the lid on the three-quarters full tin and giving it a gentle shake. You do your best not to tune in on the sound your actions are producing. The light tapping and swirling could easily lull you to sleep. “Had to help deliver some piglets.”

That perks Mr. Miller’s attention. “Sally or Marla?” he asks.

You give a little scoff. “Both, if you can believe it.” You move around the curve of the counter, still shaking away at the tin. “Marla went first. While I was helping her, Sally decided to catch the spirit, and had hers, too.”

That seems to amuse him for a second, before gravity settles in. “Everybody good?”

“Mostly.” You sigh. “Marla dropped one, then she dropped. The second one wouldn’t come out. But the first one was a distance away from her. Don’t know how long the baby was alone in the cold, but Amy Sid took the little guy in for the night. He’ll be fine,” you’re quick to reassure, at the distressed look on Mr. Miller’s face. It’s a feeling you understand, all too well. “I just want him somewhere warm, where he can be fed and watched. Sally’s babies are fine. She didn’t have as many, but she breezed right through it.”

Shit. You realize, all at once, that you’ve been rambling at a complete stranger like he’s your best buddy. Granted, he likely knows all the same things you do in this settlement, especially where the animals are concerned, but still. Fighting the embarrassed flush that you just know is coming, you stop shaking the tin in your hand and hold it out toward your guest.

“Good to hear,” Mr. Miller replies, accepting the tin and giving it a suspicious look. “Dare I ask?”

“Oh!” you breathe, dialing back in. “Right. So, brew Ellie a cup of tea every few hours, so long as the cramps keep coming back. Just a small scoop of the stuff.” In your embarrassment, you’re speaking a mile a minute. Perhaps you ought to write it all down for him, just in case? “Depending upon the severity of her cramps, it might not take them away entirely, but it should ease them.” He carefully removes the lid and looks inside, apparently surprised at what he sees. “That should last her a while. But if it doesn’t help, come back and see me. It would be easier if she was here, right now, to get specifics, but…” You rock your head from side to side. “I understand.”

Mr. Miller leans in and gives the contents a sniff, recoiling, a bit, at the scent. “The hell is it?”

“Raspberry leaf, mostly,” you explain, again trying not to let your amusement show. “Chamomile, a bit of cinnamon. A couple of other things.” He glances up at you, blinking. “It won’t hurt her. I promise.”

Mr. Miller nods, after what you can only imagine is a moment of indecision. Trust her, don’t trust her? He closes the container, tucking it away in his pocket. “What do I owe you?” he asks, shifting on his feet. It’s a fine question, and one that you are more than used to hearing, but you shake your head, all the same. He frowns. “I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are,” you reply. And, you really are. But… “But I’m too tired to come up with anything, and you’ve got a little girl that needs that stuff, as soon as you can get it to her.” You smile. “Worry about it another time.”

Mr. Miller looks ready to argue for half a second. “Okay,” he murmurs instead, replacing his hat atop his head. “Thank you for your help, (y/n).” He turns and opens the door.

You follow him over, one hand resting on the door as you see him out. “You’re welcome, Mr. Miller.”

He pauses and glances back with a faint smile. “Joel.”

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you correct, as he steps off the porch. “I hope Ellie feels better, soon.” He nods and continues on his way at a steady pace. Once the man is down the driveway and onto the street, you close the door. A quiet man, Joel Miller. Polite. Easy on the eyes. Probably be even easier, if you’d been able to keep them open while he was here. Ah, well. You can worry about that more in the morning.

Okay. At this rate, the afternoon.

Placing the covers back on the tins on your countertop, you stuff them back into the cupboard, and close the door. Forget food. Forget a shower. Hell, you don’t even have the energy to stop for a bathroom break. It will keep until… Until it can’t. With that thought in mind, you turn out the lights and drop onto the couch. Fuck it. You have to be up in a few hours, anyhow.

#Joel x Reader #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel x You #Joel Miller x You #Barter Fic #TLoU Barter Fic #TLoUBarterFic #The Last of Us #TLoU #TLoU Fanfiction #The Last of Us Fanfiction #Joel Miller #Reader Based Fic

[dirtywrestling]

Tag Team Lovers - Jeff Hardy (18+)

Commision: @childofsaltwater

Pairing: Jeff Hardy x Nicole

Summary: Jeff Hardy is Nicole’s tag team partner and after being beaten on by the Wyatt Family, Jeff is worried that Nicole is hurt.

Warnings: Wyatt family attacking Nicole, Jeff being cute, head shot from a chair, hospital, Fluff

Word Count: 3,060

Follow My Backup Blog!: @dirtywresling102

“And for the Wyatt Family.” I stared directly into the camera, rolling my eyes and giving a scoff. “Nothing and I mean nothing will get in my way when I win the Raw Women’s Championship this Sunday at Survivor Series.” I smirked. “Not even you smelly barn yard animals.” Hearing the crowd roar from backstage, I couldn’t help but to break character and give a slight smirk.

“And that’s a wrap.” The camera man said right after the red dot disappeared. Him and another crew member gathered the cables to take another shot of someone else’s segment in another area of the arena.

“That was great, Nicole.” Charly smiled, handing the microphone to the crew member passing by. “I’m rooting on you winning the title from Asuka.”

“Thanks, Charly.” I laughed. Being great friends with Asuka outside of the ring made our storyline better. Asuka and I practice in and out of the ring, we discuss our matches together and see what we could do better for the both of us.

“Oh, I think a certain Hardy is trying to get your attention.” Charly giggled, eyeing behind me. Turning my head, I saw Jeff Hardy waving at me with a bright smile. I quickly looked away, a blush painted on my cheeks. “I think he likes you.” She softly spoke but still loud enough for people around to hear.

“Shh!” I hissed out. I felt my cheeks becoming hotter from her words. “Don’t say that out loud!”

Laughing, Charly turned her heels about to walk away. “I’ll see you around, Nicole!” She then left, heading to her next interview.

“That was a great promo you shot.” I jumped slightly hearing a country accent.

“Thank you.” I smiled as Jeff circled around and sat on a crate beside me. Fresh paint covering his face. I always loved the white, black and purple colors designs on his face. My eyes skimmed over his face, I soaked in his look. His dark hair pulled back into a bun, both sides of his head cleanly shaved as if he just walked out of the barber. His gauges were slightly bigger, he must have just recently moved down in size. His beard was trimmed and shaped in the cool shapes like he usually does.

Hearing him clear his throat, I quickly snapped out of my haze and swallowed nervously, scared he caught me staring. “I like your face paint tonight.” I squeaked out, trying to come up with something so it wasn’t obvious that I was daydreaming about him.

“Why thank you.” Jeff smiled. “I’m trying a new brand so it won’t come off as easily while I wrestle.” His thick accent made wrestle sound like ‘wrastle’. “Anyways, I really hope you win this Sunday.” Jeff had his hands on his muscular thighs as he sat.

I fiddled with my fingers, my stomach tightening. “Thanks Jeff.” Was really all I could say, too scared to say anything else just in case I said something ridiculous. “Ya know I’m going to be in your corner that night, right?” Jeff acknowledged the fact.

“Really?” I asked, my eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Of course! You’re my partner and we gotta stick together! I want to be the first person you hug once you win that gold!” Jeff exclaimed. Ever since Matt left the WWE and went to AEW, Jeff was lonely here on the opposite wrestling company. Seeing a amidiant change in his mood along with his personality. Jumping into action I spoke with Jeff every Monday during Raw, we even started to travel everywhere together and when we weren’t together we text nonstop, talking for hours. We immediately became friends.

I started to get text from a number I didn’t recognize, the person greeting themselves as Matt, Jeff’s older brother. Matt appreciated me going out of my way to make sure Jeff didn’t go on a binge because Matt left him. I was scared that Jeff would relapse and spiral out of control. Being in each other’s corners was beneficial for both of us. Me being there for Jeff so he won’t hit the bottle or any illegal things and Jeff was there for me as a vet and keeping out of trouble. Jeff was a great friend and a perfect mentor even though my feelings were growing stronger and stronger towards him each and every day, I managed to keep things professional even though other close friends wanted me to make a move.

Watching Jeff on the television as a teenager made me daydream and fantasize about becoming a wrestler, he was the one who made me want to drive myself to become one. I’d get judged at school for having an alcoholic and drug abuser as a role model. Becoming friends with Jeff was a dream come true.

“So what do you say?” Jeff asked, giving me a small smile.

“I- I’m sorry, what?” I blinked, I didn’t realize I was so caught up in my own thoughts that he was speaking to me.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his hand against his opposite shoulder. “I uh, I was wondering if you’d want to go eat out after your match this Sunday?”

Jeff Hardy, my teenhood crush wanted to take me out for dinner the night I might win the title? Trying to keep myself in check, I ran my fingers through my hair. “Dinner sounds nice, Jeff.” I smiled at him. Checking the time on my phone I nearly forgot my flight. “Oh geez, I’m going to be late for my flight again.” I groaned.

“Well, let’s get your stuff and rush to the airport.” Jeff hopped down from the crate, pulling out his car keys.

Throughout the week Jeff was on my mind. Constantly cleaning or trying to do other things other than just text Jeff. I needed a clear mind going into Survivor Series. Laying in bed, I looked through my social media even texting Auska the details I had in mind about our match. Clicking on Instagram I checked what pictures I was tagged in. I smiled widely as a fan tagged me and Jeff in a photo that I’ve never seen. The pros about paparazzi was they can get great pictures. Cons, they can sometimes get terrible pictures and still post them on social media without a care that others will make fun.

My eyes cast down at the status. ‘I think Nicole and Jeff would make the cutest couple!’ I smiled at the complement. I wondered if this was true, Jeff was years older than me, so I wasn’t sure if we’d get gross looks because of the age difference. The biggest question was; did he like me more than a friend?

Standing by the gorilla, my focus was on the television, the camera pointed at Jeff sitting at the commentating table along with Michael, Byron and Corey. Jeff smiled widely and waved at the camera leanse. I smiled at the gesture, knowing it was for me. Seeing Jeff smile settled my nerves. “After this match I’ll be having dinner with Jeff.” I mumbled to myself.

“Dinner with Jeff!?” I heard someone yell.

Quickly turning around, Auska had a big smile on her lips, her green makeup around her eyes. “S- Shh, shh.”  I looked around making sure nobody was listening. “Yes, Jeff asked me out to dinner after our match but please don’t tell anyone.” I begged, I didn’t know if this was just a friendly dinner or something more.

The smaller woman rushed up to me, wrapped her arms around me, and gave me a large hug. I hugged her back. “I promise I won’t tell.” Asuka nodded. Hearing her theme hit, Asuka pulled away. “I’ll see you out there, champ.” She winked and rushed out behind the curtain.

Groaning loudly as Auska kicked me in the stomach I kneeled down. The lights beaming down on me was making me sweat more than the activities I was doing in the ring. “Oh, what a rough kick to Nicole!” Michael Cole announced. “I don’t think your partner is doing so hot out there, Jeff.” He added on.

“Trust me Cole, she’s doing great in the ring. Better than you’ll ever be.” Jeff smirked, trying to act as if he wasn’t on the edge of his seat. He was worried that I got hurt, his eyes darting around the ring as Auska and I ran the ropes soon colliding into each other.

Bouncing off of the ropes, running towards Auska I shoulder tackled her, plastering her on the mat. Rushing towards the turnbuckle I quickly climbed to the third one and striked a pose. Photographers and fans quickly snapped photos of me before I splashed on top of Auska. A grunt escaped her lips, as I quickly pinned her I whispered; “Are you okay?”

The ref slammed his hand down on the mat. “One!”

“Yes, I’m fine. Great match.” She spoke, I nearly missed what she said as the ref slammed his hand for the third time.

The bell rang loudly as I crawled off of Auska. “Here’s your winner! Nicole!” The crowd roared and screamed. As I was on my knees, panting the ref handed me the Raw Women’s Championship and raised my left hand. Looking over to my left I saw Jeff standing and clapping loudly with a smile on his face.

“And what’s this? It’s- It’s Bray Wyatt with a chair!”

I didn’t even notice anyone behind me as I was distracted by Jeff who was now in a panic. “Look out!” He yelled, pointing behind me.

I arched my eyebrow, slowly looking behind me to see what Jeff was trying to warn me about. My eyes widened at the sight of Bray Wyatt raising a chair and it coming down. The impact of the chair hitting the side of my head echoed throughout the arena. Dropping the title, I slumped onto the ring, seeing darkness.

All I heard was Bray speaking into the mic. “I warned you Hardy, I told you if you wouldn’t  join me and my family and if you don’t, people close to you are going to get hurt!” He let out a sinister laugh.

“Holy shit, Nicole!” Jeff slid into the ring, holding me close. “Where are the medics!?” Jeff screamed at the ref.

Sitting in the trainer’s room, I held an ice pack to the back of my head. “How in the hell did you take a chair shot and not split open!” Jeff exclaimed, trying to examine my head making sure there was no blood.

“Well, you know, being with the company for a decade, you pick up a few things kid.” I said in a teasing manner and gave Jeff a wink.

“Sure you have.” Jeff smiled but his face soon turned serious. “But you’re sure you’re okay?” He asked with a concerning look on his face.

“Yes, come on Hardy the doctors even cleared me.” I reminded him.

“I don’t really trust these doctors.” Jeff grumbled. “We should probably take you to the hospital.”

“No! No. Jeff really, I’m fine.” I smiled, taking the ice pack off of my head and sat it next to me. I really didn’t want to miss this date Jeff and I were about to have.

He squinted at me, studying me hard. “Hmm, if you say so.” He sighed. “But if your head hurts and your eyes are sensitive to the light you let me know asap and we will go to the hospital.”

“Okay.”

“No, no ‘okay’, Nicole I’m being for real. This is dangerous. I need you to promise me.”

Huffing, I nodded. “Okay, I pinky promise Jeff that I’ll tell you.” I held out my pink and he wrapped his pinky around mine. Sliding off of the table, I tried not to show that my head was spinning. “Let me shower real quick and I’ll be out.” I smiled.

Jeff nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that I left for the women’s locker room. Thankful that no one was in the room, I started to strip. Tossing my ring gear into my bag I walked towards the showers. Turning it on I hummed as the warm water hot my face. I leaned forward, resting my head against the cool tile. Only to hiss out slightly as it throbbed my head.

Opening my eyes I grunted as the water was now cold. Quickly shutting off the water I wrapped a towel around my body and went to my bag. Grabbing my phone my eyes widened as I saw that it was 11:45 PM. “What the fuck?” I mumbled, not realizing I must have knocked out in the shower. I saw text messages from family members congratulating me on my win. I saw one from Jeff wondering if I was okay. I quickly text back saying ‘getting dressed now’.’

Quickly drying off I threw on clean clothes and stuffed my things in my bag and rushed out of the locker room to see Jeff leaning against the wall with a frown. “Jesus, Nicole are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

“Hey, girl likes her showers.” She tried to laugh off the suspiciousness.

“Okay, well let’s go.” Jeff grabbed my bag and slung it over his shoulders.

“I know this isn’t what you thought for dinner.” Jeff blushed as we sat across from each other. McDonalds in front of us. “No other restaurants were open.”

“It’s my fault, I showered too long.” I shrugged, grabbing a french fry and placing it in my mouth. I squinted slightly as the lights above hurt my eyes.

“Nicole, are you sure you’re okay?” Jeff asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Yeah, yeah I’m totally fine.” I waved my hand, trying to ignore the throbbing in the back of my head. “Just tired.” I grumbled, my eyes slowly shutting.

Hearing heartbeat monitors beeping, my eyes slowly fluttered open. I was laying in bed, covers tucked me tightly. I was in a white room with an IV stuck in my vein and wires connected to me. “What the fu-”

“Nicole?” Jeff’s head quickly snapped up, I looked his way.

“What happened?” I groaned, holding my slightly less throbbing head.

“You passed out while we were having dinner.” Jeff frowned. “You promised me, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m scared of doctors.” I lied.

Jeff gave me a ‘really’ face, not buying it. “Nicole.”

Sighing, I rubbed my tired eyes. “I… I didn’t want to mess up our dinner plans. I didn’t want to postpone it because of my head.”

“Nicole, your health is the number one on my list.” Jeff held my hand. “I wouldn’t have known what to do if this concussion hurt you more than it did.”

“What did the doctor say anyways?” I asked, slightly sitting up more in the bed.

“Well, the IV is in you because you were dehydrated and they also put some medication in for the pain in your head. Other than that it was a concussion from the chair shot. They said you won’t be able to wrestle for two week.”

I frowned, looking over to my left to see the red title in the chair. “Don’t worry about the title, Nicole. You’re still the champion, they’re not going to take that away from you because you have a minor injury, they’ll have you cut some amazing promos but nothing in the ring.”

Sighing, I nodded knowing to trust Jeff. “When can I leave?”

“In a few hours, so when the sun is up.”

I looked over at the clock, it was three in the morning. I huffed out a sigh. “I really do hate hospitals.” I gave a shy smile.

Jeff laughed. “I know, I do too.”

“So, about dinner?”

Jeff’s tongue grazed across his bottom lip, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Well, darlin’” Jeff nibbled on the bottom of his lip. “I just wanted to tell you we’ve both been there for each other and I know I shouldn’t mix business and personal life together but I can’t ignore these feelings anymore, Nicole.” Jeff’s eyes shined as he looked at me.

My heart was picking up on each word he spoke. “I know what you mean?” I said softly, cupping the side of his face. The heart monitor is now picking up the pace.

He leaned into my touch. “Seeing you black out in the middle of the ring, it really scared me Nicole.” He tried to hold back the tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just a concussion.” I reminded him. “I’ll heal.”

Jeff sniffed. “What I’m trying to say here, Nicole is will you go out with me?”

I smiled widely as he asked me out. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jeff.”

Years down the road, Jeff and I got married, bought a house in the country and had a few animals.

“Jeff?” I asked, walking around the large house. Finding him in the office he was working on his computer.

“Yes baby?” He hummed, clicking and typing a few emails.

“I have a surprise for you.” I giggled, handing him a small box. I placed it in front of him.

Jeff eyed me carefully. “Nothing is going to pop out, right?” He grabbed the box, shaking it lightly.

“I promise, no please just open it.” I begged, holding up my camera as I clicked ‘record’.

Jeff gave a playful glare towards the camera, grabbing the lid and slowly opened it revealing a stick. “Surprise, daddy.” I giggled.

His eyes widened at the positive pregnancy test. “You’re- You’re pregnant?” Jeff quickly stood up. I smiled, nodding my head.

“You’re going to be a dad!” I laughed. Jeff quickly wrapped me up in a hug.

“Our little family is finally growing.” He nuzzled his head against mine. Cupping his beard cheeks I gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.

Jeff Hardy's Masterlist

#dirty wrestling #jeff hardy #jeff hardy fluff #jeff hardy oneshot #jeff hardy fanfic #jeff hardy commission #wrestling stories #wwe jeff hardy #aew jeff hardy #wrestling blog #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling oneshot #jeff hardy fanfiction #jeff hardy stories #wwe fluff #wwe stories #wwe #wrestling #18+ blog

[dirtywresling102]

Tag Team Lovers - Jeff Hardy (18+)

Jeff Hardy x Nicole

Commission: @childofsaltwater@childofsaltwater

Summary: Jeff Hardy is Nicole’s tag team partner and after being beaten on by the Wyatt Family, Jeff is worried that Nicole is hurt. 

Warnings: Wyatt family attacking Nicole, Fluff, Jeff being cute, head shot from a chair, hospital.

Word Count: 3,020

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“And for the Wyatt Family.” I stared directly into the camera, rolling my eyes and giving a scoff. “Nothing and I mean nothing will get in my way when I win the Raw Women’s Championship this Sunday at Survivor Series.” I smirked. “Not even you smelly barn yard animals.” Hearing the crowd roar from backstage, I couldn’t help but to break character and give a slight smirk. 

“And that’s a wrap.” The camera man said right after the red dot disappeared. Him and another crew member gathered the cables to take another shot of someone else’s segment in another area of the arena. 

“That was great, Nicole.” Charly smiled, handing the microphone to the crew member passing by. “I’m rooting on you winning the title from Asuka.” 

“Thanks, Charly.” I laughed. Being great friends with Asuka outside of the ring made our storyline better. Asuka and I practice in and out of the ring, we discuss our matches together and see what we could do better for the both of us. 

“Oh, I think a certain Hardy is trying to get your attention.” Charly giggled, eyeing behind me. Turning my head, I saw Jeff Hardy waving at me with a bright smile. I quickly looked away, a blush painted on my cheeks. “I think he likes you.” She softly spoke but still loud enough for people around to hear. 

“Shh!” I hissed out. I felt my cheeks becoming hotter from her words. “Don’t say that out loud!”

Laughing, Charly turned her heels about to walk away. “I’ll see you around, Nicole!” She then left, heading to her next interview. 

“That was a great promo you shot.” I jumped slightly hearing a country accent. 

“Thank you.” I smiled as Jeff circled around and sat on a crate beside me. Fresh paint covering his face. I always loved the white, black and purple colors designs on his face. My eyes skimmed over his face, I soaked in his look. His dark hair pulled back into a bun, both sides of his head cleanly shaved as if he just walked out of the barber. His gauges were slightly bigger, he must have just recently moved down in size. His beard was trimmed and shaped in the cool shapes like he usually does. 

Hearing him clear his throat, I quickly snapped out of my haze and swallowed nervously, scared he caught me staring. “I like your face paint tonight.” I squeaked out, trying to come up with something so it wasn’t obvious that I was daydreaming about him. 

“Why thank you.” Jeff smiled. “I’m trying a new brand so it won’t come off as easily while I wrestle.” His thick accent made wrestle sound like ‘wrastle’. “Anyways, I really hope you win this Sunday.” Jeff had his hands on his muscular thighs as he sat. 

I fiddled with my fingers, my stomach tightening. “Thanks Jeff.” Was really all I could say, too scared to say anything else just in case I said something ridiculous. 

“Ya know I’m going to be in your corner that night, right?” Jeff acknowledged the fact. 

“Really?” I asked, my eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“Of course! You’re my partner and we gotta stick together! I want to be the first person you hug once you win that gold!” Jeff exclaimed. Ever since Matt left the WWE and went to AEW, Jeff was lonely here on the opposite wrestling company. Seeing a amidiant change in his mood along with his personality. Jumping into action I spoke with Jeff every Monday during Raw, we even started to travel everywhere together and when we weren’t together we text nonstop, talking for hours. We immediately became friends. 

I started to get text from a number I didn’t recognize, the person greeting themselves as Matt, Jeff’s older brother. Matt appreciated me going out of my way to make sure Jeff didn’t go on a binge because Matt left him. I was scared that Jeff would relapse and spiral out of control. Being in each other's corners was beneficial for both of us. Me being there for Jeff so he won’t hit the bottle or any illegal things and Jeff was there for me as a vet and keeping out of trouble. Jeff was a great friend and a perfect mentor even though my feelings were growing stronger and stronger towards him each and every day, I managed to keep things professional even though other close friends wanted me to make a move. 

Watching Jeff on the television as a teenager made me daydream and fantasize about becoming a wrestler, he was the one who made me want to drive myself to become one. I’d get judged at school for having an alcoholic and drug abuser as a role model. Becoming friends with Jeff was a dream come true. 

“So what do you say?” Jeff asked, giving me a small smile. 

“I- I’m sorry, what?” I blinked, I didn’t realize I was so caught up in my own thoughts that he was speaking to me.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his hand against his opposite shoulder. “I uh, I was wondering if you’d want to go eat out after your match this Sunday?” 

Jeff Hardy, my teenhood crush wanted to take me out for dinner the night I might win the title? Trying to keep myself in check, I ran my fingers through my hair. “Dinner sounds nice, Jeff.” I smiled at him. Checking the time on my phone I nearly forgot my flight. “Oh geez, I’m going to be late for my flight again.” I groaned. 

“Well, let's get your stuff and rush to the airport.” Jeff hopped down from the crate, pulling out his car keys. 

Throughout the week Jeff was on my mind. Constantly cleaning or trying to do other things other than just text Jeff. I needed a clear mind going into Survivor Series. Laying in bed, I looked through my social media even texting Auska the details I had in mind about our match. Clicking on Instagram I checked what pictures I was tagged in. I smiled widely as a fan tagged me and Jeff in a photo that I’ve never seen. The pros about paparazzi was they can get great pictures. Cons, they can sometimes get terrible pictures and still post them on social media without a care that others will make fun. 

My eyes cast down at the status. ‘I think Nicole and Jeff would make the cutest couple!’ I smiled at the complement. I wondered if this was true, Jeff was years older than me, so I wasn’t sure if we’d get gross looks because of the age difference. The biggest question was; did he like me more than a friend? 

Huffing out a sigh, I locked my phone and tossed it to the night stand and slowly fell asleep. 

Standing by the gorilla, my focus was on the television, the camera pointed at Jeff sitting at the commentating table along with Michael, Byron and Corey. Jeff smiled widely and waved at the camera leanse. I smiled at the gesture, knowing it was for me. Seeing Jeff smile settled my nerves. “After this match I’ll be having dinner with Jeff.” I mumbled to myself.

“Dinner with Jeff!?” I heard someone yell. 

Quickly turning around, Auska had a big smile on her lips, her green makeup around her eyes. “S- Shh, shh.”  I looked around making sure nobody was listening. “Yes, Jeff asked me out to dinner after our match but please don’t tell anyone.” I begged, I didn’t know if this was just a friendly dinner or something more. 

The smaller woman rushed up to me, wrapped her arms around me, and gave me a large hug. I hugged her back. “I promise I won’t tell.” Asuka nodded. Hearing her theme hit, Asuka pulled away. “I’ll see you out there, champ.” She winked and rushed out behind the curtain.

Groaning loudly as Auska kicked me in the stomach I kneeled down. The lights beaming down on me was making me sweat more than the activities I was doing in the ring. “Oh, what a rough kick to Nicole!” Michael Cole announced. “I don’t think your partner is doing so hot out there, Jeff.” He added on. 

“Trust me Cole, she’s doing great in the ring. Better than you’ll ever be.” Jeff smirked, trying to act as if he wasn’t on the edge of his seat. He was worried that I got hurt, his eyes darting around the ring as Auska and I ran the ropes soon colliding into each other. 

Bouncing off of the ropes, running towards Auska I shoulder tackled her, plastering her on the mat. Rushing towards the turnbuckle I quickly climbed to the third one and striked a pose. Photographers and fans quickly snapped photos of me before I splashed on top of Auska. A grunt escaped her lips, as I quickly pinned her I whispered; “Are you okay?” 

The ref slammed his hand down on the mat. “One!”

“Yes, I’m fine. Great match.” She spoke, I nearly missed what she said as the ref slammed his hand for the third time. 

The bell rang loudly as I crawled off of Auska. “Here’s your winner! Nicole!” The crowd roared and screamed. As I was on my knees, panting the ref handed me the Raw Women’s Championship and raised my left hand. Looking over to my left I saw Jeff standing and clapping loudly with a smile on his face. 

“And what’s this? It’s- It’s Bray Wyatt with a chair!”

I didn’t even notice anyone behind me as I was distracted by Jeff who was now in a panic. “Look out!” He yelled, pointing behind me.

I arched my eyebrow, slowly looking behind me to see what Jeff was trying to warn me about. My eyes widened at the sight of Bray Wyatt raising a chair and it coming down. The impact of the chair hitting the side of my head echoed throughout the arena. Dropping the title, I slumped onto the ring, seeing darkness.

All I heard was Bray speaking into the mic. “I warned you Hardy, I told you if you wouldn’t  join me and my family and if you don’t, people close to you are going to get hurt!” He let out a sinister laugh. 

“Holy shit, Nicole!” Jeff slid into the ring, holding me close. “Where are the medics!?” Jeff screamed at the ref. 

Sitting in the trainer's room, I held an ice pack to the back of my head. “How in the hell did you take a chair shot and not split open!” Jeff exclaimed, trying to examine my head making sure there was no blood. 

“Well, you know, being with the company for a decade, you pick up a few things kid.” I said in a teasing manner and gave Jeff a wink.

“Sure you have.” Jeff smiled but his face soon turned serious. “But you’re sure you’re okay?” He asked with a concerning look on his face. 

“Yes, come on Hardy the doctors even cleared me.” I reminded him.

“I don’t really trust these doctors.” Jeff grumbled. “We should probably take you to the hospital.” 

“No! No. Jeff really, I’m fine.” I smiled, taking the ice pack off of my head and sat it next to me. I really didn’t want to miss this date Jeff and I were about to have.

He squinted at me, studying me hard. “Hmm, if you say so.” He sighed. “But if your head hurts and your eyes are sensitive to the light you let me know asap and we will go to the hospital.”

“Okay.” 

“No, no ‘okay’, Nicole I’m being for real. This is dangerous. I need you to promise me.” 

Huffing, I nodded. “Okay, I pinky promise Jeff that I’ll tell you.” I held out my pink and he wrapped his pinky around mine. Sliding off of the table, I tried not to show that my head was spinning. “Let me shower real quick and I’ll be out.” I smiled. 

Jeff nodded. “I’ll be waiting.” 

With that I left for the women’s locker room. Thankful that no one was in the room, I started to strip. Tossing my ring gear into my bag I walked towards the showers. Turning it on I hummed as the warm water hot my face. I leaned forward, resting my head against the cool tile. Only to hiss out slightly as it throbbed my head.

Opening my eyes I grunted as the water was now cold. Quickly shutting off the water I wrapped a towel around my body and went to my bag. Grabbing my phone my eyes widened as I saw that it was 11:45 PM. “What the fuck?” I mumbled, not realizing I must have knocked out in the shower. I saw text messages from family members congratulating me on my win. I saw one from Jeff wondering if I was okay. I quickly text back saying ‘getting dressed now’.’ 

Quickly drying off I threw on clean clothes and stuffed my things in my bag and rushed out of the locker room to see Jeff leaning against the wall with a frown. “Jesus, Nicole are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

“Hey, girl likes her showers.” She tried to laugh off the suspiciousness. 

“Okay, well let's go.” Jeff grabbed my bag and slung it over his shoulders.

“I know this isn’t what you thought for dinner.” Jeff blushed as we sat across from each other. McDonalds in front of us. “No other restaurants were open.” 

“It’s my fault, I showered too long.” I shrugged, grabbing a french fry and placing it in my mouth. I squinted slightly as the lights above hurt my eyes.

“Nicole, are you sure you’re okay?” Jeff asked, taking a sip from his drink. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m totally fine.” I waved my hand, trying to ignore the throbbing in the back of my head. “Just tired.” I grumbled, my eyes slowly shutting. 

“Well, I really wanted to tell you something, Nicole. I was hoping it was at a more romantic place but I can’t keep these feelings to myself anymore-” He stopped talking as he noticed my eyes were shut. “Nicole?” I became slumped in the seat, darkness consuming me again.

Hearing heartbeat monitors beeping, my eyes slowly fluttered open. I was laying in bed, covers tucked me tightly. I was in a white room with an IV stuck in my vein and wires connected to me. “What the fu-”

“Nicole?” Jeff’s head quickly snapped up, I looked his way. 

“What happened?” I groaned, holding my slightly less throbbing head. 

“You passed out while we were having dinner.” Jeff frowned. “You promised me, why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I’m scared of doctors.” I lied.

Jeff gave me a ‘really’ face, not buying it. “Nicole.” 

Sighing, I rubbed my tired eyes. “I… I didn’t want to mess up our dinner plans. I didn’t want to postpone it because of my head.”

“Nicole, your health is the number one on my list.” Jeff held my hand. “I wouldn’t have known what to do if this concussion hurt you more than it did.”

“What did the doctor say anyways?” I asked, slightly sitting up more in the bed.

“Well, the IV is in you because you were dehydrated and they also put some medication in for the pain in your head. Other than that it was a concussion from the chair shot. They said you won’t be able to wrestle for two week.” 

I frowned, looking over to my left to see the red title in the chair. “Don’t worry about the title, Nicole. You’re still the champion, they’re not going to take that away from you because you have a minor injury, they’ll have you cut some amazing promos but nothing in the ring.” 

Sighing, I nodded knowing to trust Jeff. “When can I leave?” 

“In a few hours, so when the sun is up.” 

I looked over at the clock, it was three in the morning. I huffed out a sigh. “I really do hate hospitals.” I gave a shy smile. 

Jeff laughed. “I know, I do too.” 

“So, about dinner?”

Jeff’s tongue grazed across his bottom lip, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Well, darlin’” Jeff nibbled on the bottom of his lip. “I just wanted to tell you we’ve both been there for each other and I know I shouldn’t mix business and personal life together but I can’t ignore these feelings anymore, Nicole.” Jeff’s eyes shined as he looked at me. 

My heart was picking up on each word he spoke. “I know what you mean?” I said softly, cupping the side of his face. The heart monitor is now picking up the pace.

He leaned into my touch. “Seeing you black out in the middle of the ring, it really scared me Nicole.” He tried to hold back the tears. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just a concussion.” I reminded him. “I’ll heal.” 

Jeff sniffed. “What I’m trying to say here, Nicole is will you go out with me?” 

I smiled widely as he asked me out. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jeff.” 

Years down the road, Jeff and I got married, bought a house in the country and had a few animals. 

“Jeff?” I asked, walking around the large house. Finding him in the office he was working on his computer. 

“Yes baby?” He hummed, clicking and typing a few emails. 

“I have a surprise for you.” I giggled, handing him a small box. I placed it in front of him. 

Jeff eyed me carefully. “Nothing is going to pop out, right?” He grabbed the box, shaking it lightly. 

“I promise, no please just open it.” I begged, holding up my camera as I clicked ‘record’. 

Jeff gave a playful glare towards the camera, grabbing the lid and slowly opened it revealing a stick. “Surprise, daddy.” I giggled.

His eyes widened at the positive pregnancy test. “You’re- You’re pregnant?” Jeff quickly stood up. I smiled, nodding my head.

“You’re going to be a dad!” I laughed. Jeff quickly wrapped me up in a hug. 

“Our little family is finally growing.” He nuzzled his head against mine. Cupping his beard cheeks I gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.

#jeff hardy #jeff hardy imagine #jeff hardy imagines #wrestling smut #wrestling imagines #dirty wrestling #wrestling blog #wrestling #wwe fanfic #wwe #jeff hardy fanfic #jeff hardy one shot #jeff hardy x reader #jeff hardy fluff #fluff #wrestling fluff #wrestling one shot #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fanfiction

[steam-powered-blinders]

Steam Powered Blinders

Birmingham Arrival

Tw: mentions of the automatons getting treated like inanimate objects, vintage! Rabbit, misgendering.

The crates had just been shipped inland, no return address, no markings to identify them and no idea to who they're supposed to go. All that stood on the large boxes was the city's name. Birmingham.

The boxes were shipped through the gypsy river lines because of this strange lack of information regarding them, so obviously on the inland River docks, they had to pop them open to see what was inside.

"You better come see for yourself!" Curly prattled, leading Tommy, Arthur and John to Charlie's yard. "You won't believe me if I just tell you!" He's jittery and Tommy isn't sure why. It seems out of character for the other.

When they get to Charlie's yard, they find Charlie looking worried as well, standing by the stable doors. "What's the matter, Charlie?" Tommy says as he ends up standing beside his uncle. Arthur and John idle a few steps behind the two of them, trying to see out into the yard, as if it may hold the answer.

"You see, Tommy, we got this strange shipment. Three crates with just the city's name on them, nothing else. We opened them to see what it was, and well, three metal men climbed out!" Charlie explained, nodding his head towards the yard.

Tommy had to think about that for a moment. Metal men? That sounded all too familiar. When he follows Charlie's line of sight, his own lands on three familiar faces. That's what he meant by 'Metal men' then.

"Not to worry, Charlie. We know these guys," Tommy says, casual as ever. He lights his cigarette before leaving the small barn and heading over to where three Automatons were seemingly playing. Well, two were playing, the third seemed distracted by their surroundings.

"Spine!" Tommy greets as he approaches them. He's not so sure of the others names, they were in different camps, but he knew Spine the longest. They were in the same unit on the front lines in France. The Spine, pulled from his thoughts, visibly relaxes once he sees a familiar face.

"Sergeant-major, oh thank goodness for a familiar face," The Spine said, stretching out his hand in a friendly greeting. He knew they weren't in France anymore, but he still felt the need to address him by his title.

"Just Tommy is fine. What are you three doing here?" He asks, allowing the handshake as easily as breathing. Arthur and John seemingly have followed him and them talking attracted Rabbit and Jon's attention.

"Okay, uh, Tommy it is then. It seems we've been shipped to the wrong continent," Spine starts, but Rabbit hops up behind him and looking over his shoulder, says, "Yeah, we're supposed to be in San-Diego! This ain't San-Diego!"

"No, this is Birmingham, boys," Tommy answers the obvious. Or was it so obvious to people who have never been there? Who knows.

"Tommy, these are my siblings, Rabbit and The Jon," Spine introduces, gesturing to the two of them as he names them. Rabbit stares at Tommy over Spine's shoulder, but doesn't move, while Jon just gives a smile and a friendly wave.

"Oh, it's just you guys!" Arthur rumbles happily from behind Tommy. John looks a little lost, but Spine happily greets Arthur as well.

"Let's get out of the immediate public and see what's happened for you to end up here," Tommy suggests, throwing his cigarette to the side and turning to head out of the yard. Arthur and John glance between him and the automatons.

Spine shrugs and starts to follow him, Rabbit skeptically following along. The Jon just shrugs and follows after his siblings happily.

"Where are we gonna go?" Spine asks as Arthur and John fall into step at the back of the group.

"To our house in Small Heath. It's not very big, so we'll likely be a bit cramped until we can find a place for you to comfortably stay, but it's better than nothing for now," Tommy answers, lighting another cigarette.

Spine can't help but notice the heavy smoking habit. He hadn't always smoked this much, but ever since the tunnel collapsed..... Well, he can't really blame Tommy for it, really.

Charlie and Curly are left staring in confusion at the backs of the three brothers and the three metal men walking away from the yard, presumably to their home or a pub somewhere.

(Disclaimer, I know Rabbit is trans and I swear I'm not misgendering her to be a dick. This is in 1919, when she still had her vintage look, so they mistake her for a man. This will be corrected in future chapters and/or when one of her brothers is the narrator.)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #steam powered giraffe #spg fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #spg #vintage rabbit spg #rabbit spg #spg the spine #the spine #the spine spg #the jon #spg the jon #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #curly #charlie strong #uncle charlie #drabble #small heath #Charlie's yard #steam powered blinders au

[sjsmith56]

It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Summary: A recurring nightmare of a woman who died in Bucky’s arms during the war keeps waking him up. Sam does some research to help his friend figure out what the dream means.

Length: 3.5K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, two named female original characters, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Warnings: traumatic death of a character, angst (Bucky’s)

Author’s notes: This one-shot is inspired by a cheesy 80’s movie, called Made in Heaven, basically true love will find a way even if death occurs. Although it starts with a sudden death it ends in the fluffiest way. The song title, used as the one shot title, is associated with Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter at the end of Avengers Endgame. Because this is set in an AU where Steve stayed in the future I have used it for Bucky. The song was written in 1945 by Jule Steyne and Sammy Kahn.

🎶

It was Christmas, 1944 and the Howling Commandos were in London, England on a well-deserved break. He was at a dance, drinking and watching the couples dancing. The few single women there were in high demand, and he just didn’t feel up to cutting in on the lucky guys who had a dancing partner. Then she walked in, wearing a blue dress and a smile. Her presence was like feeling a warm spring breeze caress your face.

“May I have this dance?”

That’s all he had to say for her to turn that smile towards him, place her hand in his and let him lead her around the dance floor. When another soldier came to cut in she looked at the guy with surprise.

“I’m dancing with my fiancé,” came the words straight from her mouth in this lovely British accent. When the man murmured his apologies and left she looked up at Bucky. “You don’t mind being my fiancé tonight, do you?”

“Not one bit,” he said, totally taken by her vivaciousness.

They danced until the band called it quits then headed out into the night to catch a bus to her flat. Just a few months previous the blackout conditions had been relaxed allowing for the use of lighting levels at the equivalent of a moonlit night. It was still dark, however, and pedestrians were warned to be on their guard while crossing the roads. As they walked, the last bus suddenly drove past them and they realized they would have to walk the full distance. Bucky kept an eye and ear out while he and Miss Sabrina Cooper strolled, holding hands as they shared their lives. When they arrived at the door of her building she looked up at the handsome American soldier.

“I share a bedroom with my sister so I can’t ask you in,” she said apologetically. “Would you meet me here tomorrow morning? She’s going to Bath with her fellow for the weekend. We can spend the day together and you can stay the night.”

“Only if you’re sure,” replied Bucky. “I wouldn’t want you to get a bad reputation.”

She laughed and he felt the effect of it down to his core. He was hers and would be there in the morning with bells on, as the saying went. When they kissed goodnight it was like tasting the best dessert that Bucky’s ma ever made, it was so sweet and tasty that he couldn’t get enough of it. As Sabrina watched from the step Bucky crossed the road to find his way back to his billet. He had only gone a few yards when he heard her call his name then run into the street towards him for one last kiss. To his horror a lorry appeared out of nowhere and struck her down right in front of him. Just like that, she was gone, dying in his arms. Then a man’s voice from the dark told him he had so many days to stop it from happening again.

Lately Bucky had been experiencing the same dream. For the past ten nights he had relived this memory from his past, and it was driving him crazy as it seemed to be a countdown. The first night the voice told him he had 30 days. Now on this most recent experience it was down to 20 days, and he still didn’t know why this was happening or what he was supposed to do. Seeing it was well after 2am, he got up and came out to the kitchen in Stark Tower then pulled open the fridge, looking for something to eat.

“Again?” said Sam’s voice as he entered the space. “How many nights is that?”

“Ten,” stated Bucky. “What are you doing up?”

“Had a date,” explained the other man. “Told me she wanted to stay friends.”

“Ouch,” said the super soldier, pulling out some leftover Chinese food. “Want some?”

Sam nodded his consent and Bucky divided it up between the two plates, heating up Sam’s first before heating his own. He pulled out a beer for each of them. The two men sat next to each other as they ate the leftovers. After several minutes Sam took a drink of beer and looked over at Bucky.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Bucky. “I mean, it really happened, right? She was hit by the truck and I know she died because she died in my arms. I couldn’t get to her in time. As for the significance of it, it’s beyond me. It’s not even happening at the same time of year or the same city. Why now?”

“Maybe something like it is going to happen again and it’s a precognition thing,” said Sam. “Maybe you’ll save someone’s life for real this time.”

Bucky smirked. “Sure, that’s got to be it.”

He shook his head, still irritated at experiencing that real life nightmare over and over again. When he finished eating Sam was only half done so Bucky put his dishes in the dishwasher and said goodnight to his fellow Avenger. Sam finished a few minutes later and put his dishes away then leaned back.

“Friday, can you start a search for me, my eyes only?” he asked.

“Certainly, Mr. Wilson,” said the female voice. “What would you like to know?”

“Check newspaper databases for London, England during the month of December 1944,” said Sam. “You’re looking for the pedestrian death of a young woman, age unknown, name Sabrina Cooper. She was hit by a truck. There may be an American soldier who witnessed the accident.”

“Is it possible the pedestrian survived the accident?” asked Friday. “That would increase the possibilities of an accurate result.”

“Sure, add that to the mix,” said Sam. “Any results can wait until I wake up tomorrow. Goodnight, Friday.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Wilson. Sweet dreams.”

He slept in the next morning, not waking up until after 10 am. After a quick shower he came out to the kitchen, finding no one there. Making himself a coffee he was just about to sip it when Friday interrupted his actions.

“Mr. Wilson, I have results of the search you assigned me this morning,” said the friendly female voice.

“Already?” exclaimed Sam. “Let me hear them.”

“Sabrina Cooper was struck down by a lorry in the Chelsea area of London, early in the morning of Saturday, December 23, 1944. An unidentified American soldier, a Sergeant in the army, witnessed the accident. She died in his arms.”

“Hmmm,” said Sam, thoughtfully. “There’s nothing else?”

“That is correct,” replied the AI.

Back to square one.

An hour later, the two men, along with Steve Rogers headed out for a run through Central Park. When they stopped for a break, more for Sam’s sake, they all sprawled on their backs in the grass. Bucky sat up first and looked around at the people walking nearby. Something caught his eye and he stood up.

“Buck?” asked Steve, looking in the direction that his friend was looking. “What is it? Trouble?”

“No,” replied Bucky, sitting down again. “Just saw something familiar for a moment. A woman in a blue dress but I don’t see her now.” He looked at Sam. “Don’t say it. She didn’t look anything like her.”

“Ah, the woman from your memories who you’ve been dreaming about,” said Steve. “That’s ten nights now. You never talked about her when you got back from your leave. None of us knew what had happened.”

“I only knew her for a few hours,” said Bucky. “Then she was gone. Wasn’t much to tell.”

“It must have bothered you,” replied Steve.

“It did,” said Bucky. “She lived with her sister who was going to Bath for the weekend with her fellow. Sabrina asked me to come back in the morning and stay the weekend.” He smiled. “I would have spent a lifetime with her.”

“You did,” said Sam. “It was her lifetime.”

Bucky couldn’t disagree with his friend’s apt observation. When they returned to the compound Sam retreated to his room.

“Friday, could you do another search related to the search I requested earlier?” It answered in the affirmative. “Sabrina Cooper had a sister, first name unknown, living at the same address. She planned to go to Bath with a male friend that day. Is she still alive?”

“I will perform the search with the new parameters,” said Friday. “Shall I extend the search to any descendants?”

“Yes, please,” responded Sam.

He showered, changed and headed out to the kitchen area where several people were cooperating on preparing a meal. Sam offered to help but was told everything was in hand. When the meal was ready he took his share, sitting at the large table where others were reading a newspaper, or browsing on their tablets while they ate.

“Mr. Wilson,” said Friday. “I have a result on your search. Would you like me to share them here or in your room?”

“Here is fine,” said Sam.

“The name of the sister was Deidre Cooper. She was engaged to Flight Lieutenant Wallis Overton, a pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force. The couple married in 1945 and she immigrated to Canada with her husband at that time. They had three children. Their youngest son, John Overton, born in 1952, married Teresa Fielder. Their oldest daughter, Marianne London was born in 1973, and is currently a resident of New York City.”

“That’s it?” asked Sam, as Bucky looked strangely at him.

“No, Marianne is a widow, and lives in the Chelsea neighbourhood of New York with her daughter, Sabrina London, born December 23, 1994.”

Sam looked at Bucky. “I played a hunch,” he said. “Maybe you’re meant to save someone who was connected to Sabrina Cooper in some way. She was born on the same day 50 years after your Sabrina died. You’re welcome.”

Steve grinned as the others asked who Sabrina Cooper was. Bucky left the explanations for Sam and Steve while he acquired Sabrina London’s address and workplace. He planned to go the next day to begin his surveillance of her but that night they got the call for another mission that took most of them out of town for 2 ½ weeks. While he was away the dream continued with the countdown marching it’s way to the end. With 2 nights left the team returned to the compound and no one was surprised to see Bucky run to his room, shower, change and leave.

“Should we provide backup?” asked Sam. “To be honest, I kind of want to see this through.”

“I agree,” said Steve. He looked around at the others. “Anyone else want in on this mission?”

〰️

Bucky was already in the Chelsea neighbourhood of New York when the rest of the team decided to get in on the action. He found the address soon enough and set himself up to watch until someone came out of the main door of the apartment building. It was the doorman and Bucky realized that he might not have much luck with the residence so he sought out Sabrina London’s workplace, a record store that carried 78s, LPs, and CDs. When he stepped inside he smiled at the sound of Duke Ellington playing.

“Hiya!” said a cheerful voice and he looked to where it came from.

Suddenly, he was back on the dance floor in London as he saw Sabrina’s Cooper’s double behind the cash register, wearing a blue dress and a smile.

“Hi,” he replied. “Nice store.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I grew up listening to a lot of different genres and after I got my degree in musicology I decided to open my own place and bring music to the masses. There’s nothing wrong with digital music but there’s nothing like listening to the older stuff on vinyl, you know?”

“I agree,” smiled Bucky. “You carry any Benny Goodman or Harry James?”

“1940s fan, huh?” she said, then she looked at him again. “Have we met before?”

“Maybe in another life,” joked Bucky. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes.”

“No shit, sorry,” she blushed. “I have a potty mouth sometimes. You really are him so the 1940s thing is for real. You must have seen some of those artists live.”

“I did,” said Bucky, stepping closer to the counter. “Billie Holliday, Benny Goodman, Cab Calloway, Count Basie, Lena Horne … I saw them in the clubs. The best way, in my opinion.”

She leaned forward, cradling her chin on her hand as he spoke. “Wow! I’m so jealous,” she replied. “I would have loved to have seen those people perform live.” She stuck her hand out. “Sabrina London. Owner, manager, soon to be ex-owner, ex-manager.”

“Why?” asked Bucky, watching her intently.

“Even though I’m in the middle of New York City I don’t really get enough business to make a profit. I’m barely keeping my head above water. Add in a jerk of a building owner who doesn’t seem to understand that you have to maintain these older buildings so that plumbing leaks don’t damage one’s inventory … sorry, I’m venting.”

“You need someone to invest in you,” said Bucky. “Your business, I mean. Maybe buy the building and restore it to something iconic. I’m pretty sure this was a high end retail store back in the 1940s. There has to be marble columns behind the drywall and hardwood floors beneath this sheet linoleum.”

“I wish,” she smiled. “You don’t think Tony Stark would be interested, do you?”

“If he doesn’t I might know a guy or two,” said Bucky. The sound of the door opening made them both look and he grinned as Sam and Steve walked in. “Hey, may I present Sabrina London, owner of this establishment. Sabrina, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.”

Steve looked all around, hearing the music. “We should be coming here to look for our music, Miss London. This place has character.”

“Just not enough business,” she said, “but go ahead and have a look. I can talk music all day.”

“Motown?” asked Sam.

She gestured towards the wall and he went over, beginning to flip through the selection. The door opened again and Tony Stark walked in, looking all around then seeing the young woman.

“Is this her?” he asked.

Sabrina looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean by Is this her?” she asked, looking between Bucky and Tony. “Have you been watching me?”

“No, nothing creepy,” said Tony, to Bucky’s glare. “You might as well tell her. You got any AC/DC or Metallica in here?”

She gestured to another wall then looked at Bucky for an explanation. His face turned pink then he took a deep breath.

“Are you named after Sabrina Cooper?” he asked. “She was the sister of your great-grandmother Deidre Cooper.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, a crease appearing between her eyes as she frowned slightly. “It’s a family thing.”

“Because I’m a genius and I invented a very sophisticated AI that can search almost anything,” said Tony loudly from the heavy metal section, three LPs already in his arms.

Steve looked sympathetically at Bucky. “You might as well tell her the truth,” he said. “I’m going to look for some albums.”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “It’s just that I met Sabrina Cooper on December 22, 1944 at a dance in London. We connected and I walked her home to her flat in Chelsea. She told me her sister was going to Bath for the weekend with her guy and wanted me to spend the next couple of days with her. I was charmed by her and agreed. She ran across the road to kiss me one more time.”

“You were the soldier,” interrupted Sabrina. “She died in your arms.”

Bucky nodded. “For the past 27 days I’ve relived that night over and over, and the only thing that changes is at the end a voice says that I have so many days to prevent it from happening again. It’s been counting down from 30 days. Sam got the idea that maybe I was meant to save someone with a connection to Sabrina, and Tony’s AI came up with your name. You were born exactly 50 years after the date that Sabrina Cooper died, and your great grandmother was her sister. You live in Chelsea here in New York and your last name is London. It seemed to make sense at the time. We can leave if this bothers you.”

“You think something bad is going to happen to me?” she asked. “You came here hoping to prevent that?”

Bucky stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged. “Sounds crazy, I know.”

“It does sound crazy,” said Sabrina. “But what if I told you that for the past 27 days I’ve had a dream of a young WWII soldier, dancing with me to Bing Crosby’s version of It’s Been a Long, Long Time which is weird because it came out in October, 1945 at the same time as the Harry James version, but this dance that we’re at was just before Christmas, 1944. In this dream I distinctly remember saying to a guy who wanted to cut in that I was dancing with my fiancé. At the end of my dream a woman’s voice says I have so many days to find this soldier. It’s been counting down from 30 and reached the number 3 last night.”

The others had come over as Sabrina related her dream, looking back and forth from her to Bucky. He just looked at her, then leaned across the counter and kissed her for several moments before stepping back.

“Then I would say we found each other again, Sabrina,” he said. “We get to start over again, if you want.”

“It took us long enough, didn’t it?” she smiled. She looked at Tony. “Could you buy this building and fix it to its original glory? I’m a great tenant and you’d be helping a small business owner in the heart of New York City.”

“Sabrina Fair, it would be my delight to help a small business owner with the treasures that you have here,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy.

Six months later

Sabrina London looked up at the door as it opened to the arrival of her fiancé, the Avenger Bucky Barnes. A skiff of snow flew in as he entered. The place was full of people shopping for the perfect Christmas present and he stepped around the lineup of people at the register.

“You’re back!” she said, coming out from behind the marble topped counter as her assistant beamed.

“Wasn’t going to miss this weekend,” said Bucky, looking at his watch before kissing Sabrina. “It’s not everyday that I get married. Everything’s ready according to the wedding planner. All we have to do is say the words and we’ll be husband and wife.” He looked up and nodded to the assistant, Jenny. “You ready to let your boss go for the next two weeks?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Go, get out of here.”

Sabrina went into the back, got her coat and purse, then pulled her boots on. Bucky helped her into her coat, making sure her scarf was covering her neck, then with a wave he opened the door again and followed his fiancée out the door. A limousine, courtesy of Tony Stark, was waiting for them and Bucky opened the door for her, before sitting inside. Nodding at the driver the couple sat back and Bucky put his arm around her shoulders.

“We have to make one more stop,” he said. “I need to practice something.”

“What?” asked Sabrina. “You said yourself everything is ready.”

“I know, but this is for me,” said Bucky. “Indulge me.”

It didn’t take long before the limousine stopped at the Rink at Rockefeller Center. The giant Christmas tree was lit up and the rink was full of skaters.

“We’re not going skating,” said Sabrina. “I don’t know how.”

“No, we’re not,” said Bucky, “but we do need to get on the ice.”

Making their way through the crowd they stepped onto the ice near the tree, where a large rubber mat had been placed. When they reached the mat the music playing for the crowd stopped and a song came on, sung by Bing Crosby.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

A photographer took several pictures of them as the snowflakes fell and Bucky smiled at Sabrina.

“They wanted a picture and I wanted to practice our first dance,” he said. “How much more romantic is it than being under the falling snow in front of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center? I’m so glad I found you Sabrina Fair.”

She laughed, as much at the situation as at the nickname that Tony gave her.

“I’m so glad you found me, my handsome soldier,” she replied.

The couple danced closely together on the rink in the heart of New York City, continuing the romance that began 80 years before in London during blackout conditions of a world war. It had been a long, long time but they were together now and they thanked whatever forces brought them back together, as they should have been from the start.

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Please reblog if you liked this one shot.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #steve rogers #ww2 bucky #tony stark #lost love #bucky barnes oneshot

[sarcasticslothy]

When I get lost, dear I’m not alone

Day 1 of Tarlos Week 2022 “Please tell me it’s not a lizard” and/or a story about adopting a pet

The fic in which Carlos has a bad day and TK and puppies certainly help.

Read on AO3

By the time he finally reaches the driveway of his parent’s ranch it’s hours after he was meant to arrive but the guilt of the broken promise can’t pull the cloud of grief from his latest shift. He’d barely resisted turning around multiple times, but the responsibility had won out like it often did and here he was struggling to keep it together outside his niece’s birthday party.

He liked to think he was good at compartmentalizing his life, gone are the days of his rookie year where every single case would drain his emotions until he’d go home a shell of his former self. Yet here he was looking at his parent’s house, the pink balloons gracing the sides of the front steps and all he can produce in his mind is the face of a twelve-year-old girl staring at him as he informed her that her parents were gone. The knowledge that her birthday will forever be a day of sadness and his face a star of the show makes his stomach twist.

He's shaken out of his thoughts by a shriek of laughter coming from the side of the house and he watches as his niece leads a swarm of 8-year-olds to the fence line and then back the way they came. He takes a shaky deep breath, before getting out of the car, bargaining with himself for a couple of hours, to put on a happy face for his family and then finally give in to the sadness that aches to be dealt with. He’s barely closed the front door behind him when his mom comes around the corner, tea towel slung over one shoulder.

“Oh, Carlitos! We were worried you wouldn’t make it” She walks towards him, arms already waiting for him to fall into.

“Hi Mami” he whispers and lets himself sink into the hug she greets him with. “Is Sofia upset with me?” he asks quietly into her shoulder, glancing over his mom’s shoulder to where he can see the familiar sight of his family gathering out the back of the house.

“She was upset at first, but mostly I think because she thought you’d be bringing the present. Once I told her that TK had that covered that soon changed” Andrea pats his cheek gently and frowns at him, before turning back to the kitchen.

“Going to lose my title as the favourite uncle” Andrea huffs out a laugh as she opens the fridge.

“You’re her only uncle. I think the competition will be good for you” Carlos relishes the wave of happiness that comes from the easy acceptance of his relationship. It’s hard to remember now why it took him so long to realise that he couldn’t live without this, that there was a world where he could live two different versions of himself for the people he loved.

“That’s going to go straight to TK’s head” He comments quietly and Andrea grins, uncovering a plate of food she has placed on the kitchen table.

“I saved some food for you. You must be hungry, Mijo” The idea of food makes his stomach churn unpleasantly, but he knows saying no will just encourage further inquiry and he definitely doesn’t want his mother asking questions about his well-being tonight.

“Gracias, Mama” he says, accepting the plate she offers him.

“Go outside and eat. Everyone will be so happy you made it. I’ll go find TK, he’ll be in the barn”

The last comment makes him pause but before he has enough time to ask her to elaborate on why his very anti-horse fiancé would be anywhere near a building full of them, he’s forced outside to the greetings of his family.

“Tio!” he hears from across the yard and barely has enough time to put the plate in his hands down before Sofia runs into him, arms valiantly trying to reach around his waist

“Happy Birthday, Sofia” he greets, crouching down so he can get his arms around her properly. He doesn’t try to examine how the feel of her small hands gives him solace.

“Tio Carlos, we waited for you before we did the cake!” Sofia blurts out, already starting to push away from him. “Mama made it, and it has a big 8 on it because that’s how old I am now!”

Carlos fakes a surprised face “You’re eight years old? No way!”

“I am, I am!” Sofia yells “I have to show you my presents!” She runs off without another word, a trail of other kids racing behind her, and Carlos watches them go before taking his plate again and turning to greet his eldest sister, strangely alone at the table.

“Look who graced us with his presence” she remarks and the tone is somehow reassuring – at least he knows his sister is still the same as always.

“You scare everyone off, Angelina?” he asks, reaching across to give her a one-armed hug as he sits next to her.

His oldest sister rolls his eyes at him in response.

“I wish. There are entirely too many children here”

“Sounds like Sofia is having fun” He absently moves his fork around the plate and wills his stomach to settle enough so he can take a mouthful of food.

“Give any kid some presents and sugar and it’s pretty hard not to be having a good time” she picks up the wine in front of her and takes a sip glancing across at him with a strange look on her face.

“What?” he asks and she shakes her head, and turns so she is looking further out to the yard.

“Nothing” she says “want a drink?” she holds up the wine glass in an offering and he quirks an eyebrow at her.

“You’re offering to get a drink for me?” Carlos asks, incredulous.

“Wow, Carlos, can’t I do something nice for my little brother?” she scoffs at him before reaching across the table to get another clean glass “Here, drink the wine”

“Gracias” Carlos murmurs and stares at the side of his sister’s face as she resolutely doesn’t look his way.

“Time for Cake!” Carlos turns from his sister to see his mother carrying a large two-tiered cake out of the house and immediately hurries over to take it from her, placing it safely on the table. There’s a rush of kids running around from inside and from out of the barn heading towards the table and Carlos takes the time to greet the rest of his family as they appear.

“I didn’t know you’d arrived” his father says instead of a greeting, looking at him too intensely for the moment and Carlos instantly knows he’s aware of the day’s events.

“I only got here a little while ago” he answers and his father pulls him into a tight hug, gripping the back of his neck for a moment. Carlos freezes in his embrace, years of keeping any emotion locked away still too hard to break.

“You good?” his father asks quietly, only for them to hear and Carlos swallows down the wave of emotion that gets stuck in his throat for a moment.

“Yes” he answers back and when they eventually part Carlos can tell his lie hasn’t been believed for a second but his attention is pulled when he sees TK appear, his face lighting up when he notices him. Just the sight of TK has his already delicate emotions teetering on the edge of control and he knows that his dad has probably passed the message on when TK spends a beat too long searching his face.

“Hey you” TK mumbles, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, “I thought I heard your voice before”

“Hi” Carlos replies, cringing as it comes out cracked and weak. TK’s eyebrows cinch further together, and Carlos can tell he wants to comfort him. “I’m good” he urges and turns so they are both looking at the cake in front of them. He feels TK’s hand winding itself down his arm and he waits for it to reach his own hand before clasping it tightly.

He makes it through the singing of happy birthday, and smiles for the camera when his mother asks but as he watches his sister and her husband pose around the cake, Sofia beaming in the middle it takes his breath away. It almost seems too cruel that there is a world somewhere where this is a fantasy in a girl’s mind, that sitting between her parents smiling for a camera is somehow out of reach. He imagines Sofia without her parents and can’t fathom how something so horrible could ever be a possibility. The façade that he’s spent a long drive building starts to crumble and he abruptly mutters out an excuse to his brother-in-law circling everyone to hopefully make the least obvious escape. By the time he makes it inside, debates for a moment before climbing the stairs and hooking around to slip into his own childhood room, he can feel the tears thick in his throat bubbling to get out. He slowly shuts the door behind him, lowering himself to the floor with the bed behind his back and the taut strings holding him together start to snap, tears running down his face.

He tenses when he hears the door open above him, frantically wiping his hands across his face, but then relaxes when he sees TK slip inside.

“Baby” TK whispers, crouching down to sit in front of him, hand cupping his cheek for a moment before moving to sit beside him. “I’m so sorry” he murmurs and Carlos leans sideways against him, exhaling a shaky breath unable to keep down the few sobs that breakthrough.

“I just need a minute” he murmurs into the silence and TK hums in response, arm winding its way around him so he can hug him against his side. He lets his eyes fall shut and can hear the dull sound of the party still in full swing downstairs.

“Did anyone notice I went?”

“A couple” TK says, pausing for a moment before adding, “Your dad told us about your shift”

“I figured. Angelina brought me a drink. I don’t think she’s done that since we were kids, and I was forced to be at her tea party”

TK laughs against the side of his head before Carlos feels him press a kiss to his ear. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No” Carlos answers quickly. He knows as soon as he relives any part of his day, that will be it for him and he can’t do that here. He needs the privacy of their home and the easy comfort of it just being them alone.

“You didn’t have to come. Everyone would have understood”

“I didn’t want to ruin another kid’s birthday today. One is enough, don’t you think?” TK makes a noise of disagreement, his arm tightening against him.

“You didn’t ruin it, babe. You’re not the reason that little girl is without her parents tonight” Carlos wants to argue, tell him that he didn’t see the face staring back at him when he had to break the news, but he doesn’t have the energy for the fight and lets it go, shaking his head slightly.

“Carlos” TK murmurs a little while later, his voice soothing but Carlos can tell he wants to help.

“Not here. Later” he offers, and TK’s hand pauses its soothing motion on his arm, and he feels TK’s lips once again against the side of his head

“Okay. Can I help right now?”

“Talk about something else?” Carlos asks. Tk is silent for a moment, his hand resuming its absent movement.

“Your mom told me she found a pet for us today” Carlos angles his head so he is more comfortably resting against the incline of TK’s neck, TK’s arms sipping down to hug his lower back.

“Please tell me it’s not a lizard” Carlos feels the rumble of TK’s laughter under his ear and can’t prevent the smile that breaks through at the simple comfort it gives him.

“No lizards. No reptiles. This is much more cute and fluffy”

“A puppy then?”

“You can say no, but they’re kind of adorable and I hear you can definitely pet them”

“We could do a puppy” Carlos agrees “wait, how do you know they’re adorable?”

“They may or may not already be in the barn outside” Carlos traces his finger across the lines in TK’s palm.

“So that’s what got you into the barn. The secret this whole time was cute animals? Here I was offering some cowboy fantasy and instead I needed a puppy”

“I don’t think we should take the cowboy fantasy off the table” TK argues and Carlos snorts

“Nope. You chose the puppy. Now, I just need to get you out for a ride”

“I only went in there because Sofia said she’d protect me from them and well, the puppies are so cute. Plus, why must I ride when I can just watch you do it?” Carlos sighs dramatically

“Protected by an 8-year-old huh” TK tickles his side and Carlos shrinks out of danger before moving back into place when TK tugs him back against him.

“Well, you weren’t here, babe. I had to get someone else”

“The horses aren’t going to attack you, TK” Carlos tells him, like he has many times before, amusement heavy in his tone.

“You don’t know that” TK whispers.

A few minutes of silence settles between them and Carlos doesn’t know how TK does it, but somehow he feels lighter, the sorrow that had felt like a weight sitting over him has momentarily lifted and he can see the way through to the other side.

“I don’t want to wait any longer” Carlos blurts suddenly.

“To see the puppies?” TK asks, confusion in his voice.

“No” Carlos says through an abrupt huff of laughter “To get married. When you proposed you said you didn’t want to waste any time. I don’t want to either. Not anymore”

“At the risk of this being a whole lot of déjà vu, I feel like I should probably mention that it’s been a pretty crazy day for you..”

“TK” Carlos cuts him off “I don’t want something to happen and to look back and think I wasted any time not being your husband”

“Carlos, look at me” TK says and Carlos pushes himself away enough that he can tilt his head to meet TK’s eye “I know I said any moment not being your husband is a wasted moment but it doesn’t matter if you’re my boyfriend, my fiancé or my husband. Every single day with you is never a waste”

“You call me a sap” Carlos mumbles and TK grins at him, clearly delighted by the reversal of roles.

“I’d marry you tomorrow, but I think your mom might kick me straight out of the family the second I got into it” TK reaches across to grip the back of Carlos’s neck, thumb reaching up to reach the side of his cheek.

“You might be correct” Carlos admits and TK narrows his eyes at him “Okay. You’re definitely correct”

“Thankyou” TK says, pulling Carlos into him, kissing his cheek before his lips. Carlos sighs into the kiss, breaking them apart after a moment, but keeping his forehead against TK’s.

“I don’t know how I survived this job when I didn’t have you to come home to” Carlos says, and TK’s thumb brushes his cheek.

“You never have to worry about that, Carlos. Not ever” Carlos leans back in, and TK hums into the kiss that Carlos deepens after a moment, running his tongue along TK’s bottom lip. He’s starting to turn his body more solidly against him when he hears a door close in the hallway, making him break away, ignoring the slight whine TK makes.

“We should get back out there” Carlos whispers against his lips, placing a gently quick kiss before pulling away fully.

“You sure? We can go home. Your family wouldn’t be upset. If we go while the cake is still around Sofia won’t even notice” TK asks, hand falling off Carlos’s neck to instead grab Carlos’s hand in his lap.

“We need to go pick out our new family member, right?” Carlos pushes himself back upright and looks over to see TK giving him a cautious look like he isn’t sure if he should push the issue. “I’m okay now, I promise” he tells him and TK holds onto his hand, so he can’t move away and reaches over to wipe under his eyes, surely taking the remnants of tears along with it.

“You’re okay” he replies, smiling more genuine but the concern is still there in his gaze. He takes the hand Carlos offers and they pull each other to their feet.

They retrace Carlos’s escape route and Carlos knows that everyone has been told of his day when nobody mentions their disappearance and ignores them when they head straight to the barn.

They walk into a sea of kids sitting around the puppies in question and TK grins at him before tugging him in their direction.

They spend nearly an hour in the barn, TK pushing tiny bundles into his arms like it’ll heal all his problems. They eventually pick the one they want, a little female white and black puppy, the quiet one of the pack sitting in the corner watching the others asking for attention.

Carlos will watch TK pick her up and hug her to his chest and he’ll imagine a world where TK is his husband, the barn is their house and the puppy is their child, and oh how he can’t wait.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #Tarlosweek2022 #oh it's been so long since I've posted fic #I'm going straight to sleep to avoid the stress #and also because it's 2am in the morning and technically already the 27th #sarcasticslothy

[adventuretolkienlover]

CHICKEN TROUBLE! 🐔🐓🐤

(An Alchemy Bros Fic)

Introduction: First off, I'd like to tag a couple of the Alchemy Bros fans that inspired my to write this. @whitecatindisguise and @brushes-of-sage! Your fics with this concept are masterpieces to me and you're both awesome! You don't have to read this fic, but I'd just like to say thanks for the inspiration. The amount of emotion you put into your own fics brought me to tears and inspired me greatly. My fic is a bit goofy compared to those, but soon I hope to write more deep emotional pieces like you have. That would be amazing. And I'd also like to tag a couple of friends in here too! @disneyfanatic1993 @blueberrycrystalowo and @sbartdump! You don't have to check it out of you don't want to, but it's here if you do. And last but not least, the fic is based on an art piece by one of my favorite artists Cinn-a-mum! I love her art! I keep saying that, but I really do. It's this piece here! And the title is courtesy of my brother. Who is great with titles! So, without further ado, the fic! By me!

Summary: During his first farming lesson, Hugo finds himself in a scary situation with one of Old Corona's grumpiest chickens!

Trigger Warnings: NONE! This is a silly fluffy fun fanfic. Nothing even remotely scary! Unless you count grumpy chickens as scary, like Hugo.🤣

Hugo was a city slicker. No two ways about it. He didn't know the first thing about farm work. But unfortunately for him, he'd just been adopted into a farmer's family. With a huge farm. With lots of farm work to be done. And lots of chickens. Chicken as far as the eye could see. Just wandering around in a great big pen. Hugo had never seen so many chickens. At least not alive. And today was the day he was going to be feeding said chickens. He'd have to walk across the pen, pour feed into the feeder, and walk back. No big deal, right?

He hoped so anyway as him and his brother Varian walked toward the chicken coops. Hugo could hears the hens flapping and screeching like banshees. He looked out over the madness. He felt a twinge of fear. "Var?" he asked. "Yeah?" said Varian. "Can a chicken kill you?" asked Hugo. Varian looked at him quizzically. He wasn't going to lie. He was slightly amused by the question. "No? I mean a whole flock maybe. But one chicken? Nah." Varian plopped down a bag of feed on the ground and turned to Hugo. "Okay, a few things to know about chickens. They're mean. Cows are fine, sheep are nice, but chickens can be the jerks of the barn yard. And their talons and breaks are SHARP. So try not to aggravate them. When feeding them, do the job quickly and with skill. If that bag breaks and your standing to middle of it, well... You're in trouble. So just make sure you get across and back again and you'll do fine" Hugo wasn't sure if Varian's advice made him feel better or worse. He picked up the bag and walked up to the gate. He looked over his shoulder at Varian. Varian grinned and gave him a thumbs up. Hugo gave him a forced smile and then opened the gate. The mere movement of the gate opening sent a few hens fluttering into the air. Hugo flinched but kept going. He started across the pen, trying to ignore the pecking and flapping all around him. He tried to look calm but internally, he was screaming. "Just keep your eyes on the target. You're not afraid of any chickens! For goodness sake you eat them all the time. Just think of them as your prey." A rooster let out a loud squawk! Hugo jumped slightly and began to wonder if it was the other way around. He could have sworn he saw killers instinct in those beady little eyes of theirs. Finally he made it to the feeder. He tore the seam on the bag and poured in the feed. Suddenly the chicken came running at him! Hugo skittered out of the way as the chickens flocked to their breakfast. Hugo gave a sigh of relief, as now they were too wrapped up in eating to notice him. And now the pen was mostly clear to walk through, so no more flapping and pecking his legs. Mission accomplished! He was just about to walk back to the gate when he heard a loud "BUK BUKAW!" at his feet! He let out a yelp and looked down at his feet in shock. There was red feathered hen staring right at his face. It looked like it was staring into his soul. Hugo tried to walk around her, but she matched every move. Hugo began to panic. "What now?!" he thought. He decide to try acting more confident. Maybe she could smell fear. He stood tall and kept his voice unwavering and stern. "I don't fear you bird!" he proclaimed. The hen stared at him, unmoving. Hugo felt a hint of pride. He'd done it! He'd conquered his fear. He took a step. "BUKAW!" "AHH!!!" he screamed as the hen fluttered toward him! Hugo ran around her and made a dash for the gate. "I FEAR YOU! I FEAR YOU!" Suddenly he heard the sound of pattering feet. The hen was CHASING HIM! He ran out the gate and shut it! But the hen flew over and clawed at him in mid air. Luckily Hugo was too quick for her and he ran away letting out a scream that was much too feminine sounding for a boy his age!

Varian, who was turning the soil in a pumpkin field, heard to the chaos and looked over his shoulder. He was just in time to see a terrified screaming Hugo being chased into town by a very mad and loud chicken! "Hugo!" Varian shouted! He dropped his graden hoe and ran after him! Meanwhile, Hugo was dodging pedestrians and carts as he ran through Old Corona's streets! "What did I do to deserve this fate?!" he thought! "Okay, so maybe I have done some shady stuff BUT I SAID I WAS SORRY!" Hugo realized that the chicken was gaining on him! He vaulted over a pile of apple crates and pushed through a group of customers. The chicken fluttered over the crates and into a man's face! She knocked him off his feet before continuing to chase Hugo! He ran past Quirin talking with some of the other farmers! "HEEEELP!" he shouted! Quirin looked at him in shock! "Hugo?!" said Quirin! Varian came running up to his father panting. "Hugo needs help!" he said breathlessly. "No kidding!" said one of the other farmers! "Come on Varian!" said Quirin and they rushed off to help the boy.

Hugo ran into town square and clambered up a tree! The chicken ran around the trunk squawking and flapping while trying to get to Hugo! Hugo was scared. No, more than scared! He was terrified! No, more than that! "What's a bigger word then terrified?!" he thought! "SQUAWK!" Hugo yelped again and clung to his tree branch with all his might. Some of the passerbys had stopped to watch the show and we're laughing hysterically! Hugo didn't see what was so funny. What's funny about being murdered by a chicken?! Just when he was trying to remember if chickens have a taste for human flesh, Varian and Quirin pushed through the crowd to come to his rescue. "Don't worry Hugo! We're coming!" called up Varian! "Don't worry?!" shouted Hugo! "I'm in a tree! With the Bird of Death below me!" Quirin grabbed the chicken and restrained her. "You can come down now Hugo. I've got her." he shouted. Hugo wasn't so sure. But he didn't want to stay in the tree, so he slowly made his way down. He could hear the town folk gossiping already. "We should have expected that from a city boy." one whispered. "How ironic. A chicken running from a chicken!" said a man. "Did you hear him screaming? He sounded like my sister that time she got a bug caught in her hair!" another laughed. The crowd began to disappear. Their laughter faded as well. Hugo sighed and sat down on the wall surrounding the tree. " I guess I messed up pretty bad. Huh?" "It's okay Hugo. It was your first time." Varian said gently. "Of course." agreed Quirin. Quirin handed the now calm hen to Varian and sat down next to Hugo. "Maybe you didn't do perfect, but you were brave enough to try. And that's what counts." said Quirin. Hugo looked up at him and flashed small smile. "Really?" he asked. "Definitely." answered Quirin. He put his arm around Hugo and continued. "Farming takes practice. I wasn't great when I first started. You must remember that I was once a knight. I hadn't done farming before either. I learned how to farm from the other farmers here. When I first tried feeding those chickens, I made the mistake of forgetting to shut the gate afterwards." Hugo's eye's widened. "You did?" he said. "Yes." chuckled Quirin. "The next time I went outside, the whole farm was covered in chickens! I took hours to catch them all." Hugo laughed. "Wow. That's crazy!" he said. "And I once got stuck in an apple tree after the ladder fell!" chimed in Varian. "I had to wait for hours until my dad realized that I was missing!" By now all of them were laughing and talking about their funniest farming fails. Hugo was feeling much better. When things finally quieted down, Quirin took the hen back from Varian and turned to Hugo. "Now that she's relaxed, would you like to try making friends with Abigail here?" he asked. "Abigail?" thought Hugo. "I guess that's a fitting name for a chicken." Hugo reached out his hand cautiously and stroked the hen's head with his index finger. The chicken clucked contently. Hugo felt his shoulders relax and he let out a deep breath. "She's not so bad now I guess." he said as he stroked her soft back feathers. "Yeah, she just needed to get used to you." said Varian. "Well, we'd best be getting back boys." said Quirin. They began walking back to the farm. Hugo looked at his father and brother and felt better than he had in years. Maybe this farm life would be better than he thought.

The End.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Notes: So, in this fic, I wanted to capture the seer terror of a man who has literally never touched a chicken before. I hope I succeeded! I have seen so many videos of people going to pet chickens and then getting a taste of unbridled chicken rath! LOL! I don't think chickens are scary in general. It just that there are some mean ones out there! And I thought that this would definitely be a scenario for poor Hugo. That boy is NOT a farmer. 🤣 I hope you all liked this fic! It's my first one so there may be some mistakes. But overall, I think it's pretty good. I'll hopefully be writing more stuff like this so stay tuned! God bless and bye for now!

#Alchemy Bros #varian and the 7k gang rp #varian vat7k #hugo vat7k #Hugo the Human #Varian the Alchemist #Varian and the Seven Kingdoms #tts Quirin #Alchemy Bros Fic #tangled varian #tts varian #Tangled fic #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled the series #Tangled #Vat7k #Vat7k Fanfic #Varian #Varian and the Seven Kingdoms Fanfic #My writing

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Person She Puts On (1/1)

Title: The Person She Puts On By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: The true, and not entirely fun, story of the 107 one-armed push-ups.

A/N: For Steggy Week Day 7: Free Choice. I forget where this one came from, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. We see Peggy as so impenetrable; I love to see her more vulnerable.

This also lives in my Outside of the Box Universe, so established Steggy during wartime.

Also, nothing here is fact-checked. Nothing here is accurate to any kind of military situation or tent situation whatsoever. Just my imagination.

It is 11:47 PM. This is not Beta’d. I will likely wake up in the morning, horrified, and immediately fix any error I can get my hand on, but for now, I’d like to post this and go to bed. It has been a long month.

~*~

It was, in the end, unfair.

Had Peggy been at the SSR base like she was supposed to have been, she would have had to requalify with the women. She supposed, though, that would have been unfair as well, as she saw much more action than most secretaries and codebreakers and the meager list of physical activities would have been simple.

No, the orders, nonsensical seeing they were in the middle of a war that all members on active duty had to requalify for service before their next mission, happened to come when she was camped out with the 107th somewhere outside of Paris in what could only be described as slightly nicer than a mudhole when it didn’t rain and a soul-sucking abyss when it did.

No, the General waltzed in with his clean Jeep and dry socks and his portfolio full of names, and demanded that every man, and subsequently the only woman, in the camp was run before him before nightfall the next day.

It was a bunch of bureaucratic red tape bullshit, and Phillips had told General Beckett that in those same exact words.

It didn’t get any of them out of running the 300 yards, doing the squat jumps, squishing mud into their hair with sit-ups, slipping off the rain-soaked bar for pull-ups, or completing as many push-ups as they could once they were exhausted.

Beckett sat like a King in his viewing tent as line after line of men had passed in front of him, his Sergeants barking orders and counting off as the exhausted men fell at their feet.

The 107th was a large group of men, and though it was only a portion of them, it took nearly all day to get through them. By the end of the day, with threat levels low and nothing to do but try to stay dry, the men had gathered to watch each other try to get through the grueling tests, and yell taunts to amuse themselves.

Peggy had initially volunteered to go in the first group, hoping the early hour would have deterred onlookers and kept the ground at least somewhat firm. Instead, she was listed last, with the rest of the Howling Commandos.

Steve had put himself at the end of the line, knowing he would have little trouble with any of the activities due to his enhanced abilities. The rest of the Commandos, well, they battered themselves around like a Marx Brother’s movie to not go first at the 300-yard dash. While she would have found it amusing at any other moment, she wanted nothing more than to get this over with. With her hair in a tight knot and her shoes laced as tight as they would go against the mud, she stepped forward.

“Let’s get on with this, shall we?”

The taunts were quiet at first. Little comments like Queen and Your Majesty and low whistles were made while the other Commandos were being tested. She heard them, though, and despite a few strong looks by herself and the Commandos, they didn’t stop.

She’d managed well enough with sit ups, and pretended not to noticed when Barnes and Dugan almost got into a fight with Dawson over some comment she didn’t hear because there was mud starting to pool in her ears each time she went back down.

Beckett was amused by her, called her “spunky” after she’d struggled up through squat jumps as the rain poured down on her and creating a puddle of squelching mud at her feet. He’d laughed when she broke a nail on the pull ups, falling to the ground two short of the qualifying number for men. He said he’d give her a pass between laughs, as he’d never expected her to do even one.

Peggy’d bit her tongue, literally and figuratively, a tried her best not to cry because she hadn’t only broken a nail, it had pulled back half the nailbed and was sending shocks of pain down her hand.

Morita looked at it while Steve tried to draw the attention of the crowd with his pull ups, and Dugan hatched a plan with Barnes. She nearly told them not to, she nearly begged them to stop, but they all needed a win, needed a little fun after sitting in the drenching rain, and they all knew they needed to take the men, who were so beaten down by the situation they seemed to care little for giving any respect anymore, down a peg.

So, Steve shooed the spectators all off the one good platform the men had commandeered to stay out of the mud, slyly convincing Beckett that they could only perform a good push up if they had a firm surface. While not untrue, it also served a flat surface for the entire group, who spread out as if they were called to attention. Bucky gave the signal, and they all dropped down together. He called it out, and Peggy, right in line with all the other Commandos, dropped down and up, completing the ten minimum required pushups.

The crowd that had gathered jeered when they all stopped, but Dugan held up his hand. “We’re gonna make it interesting, yeah?” He looked up at Beckett, smiling. “We all pass, right?”

Beckett frowned, like a displeased King at a disappointing court jester. “You’ve completed the minimum, yes, but I’d rather say I’d have expected better from the infamous Howling Commandos.”

Dugan chuckled. “Oh, you’re getting better.” He looked around, and all the Commandos smiled, knowing what was coming. “Cap’s counting guys, otherwise it wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

From their knees they moved their legs a little wider as Steve stood and took his place at the side of the platform. Peggy did so as well, though she couldn’t quite muster up the energy or emotion to smile.

“Men, ready?” Steve called.

“Hoo-ah!” Dugan replied, with a smattering of other yells joining in as they all raised an arm of choice high overhead.

“Set.” Steve called, and they set the one hand down, the other behind their backs, a murmur coming from the crowd. Peggy set her injured hand behind her back, the pinky still throbbing, and thanked whoever was looking down on her that she hadn’t injured her good arm.

“Up!” At his call, they pushed up high onto their toes, Peggy no exception, and waited for Steve’s call of “One!” before lowering themselves, pushing back up in time to his cadence as he continued, “Up, two! Up, three!”

Morita dropped out early, after 27, with a smile on his face that said it was a choice and not a necessity. Jones after 30. Barnes’ hand slipped as it started to drizzle again and he was out with a few choice curses at 31. Happy sat back, shaking his hand and massaging his wrist after 42. Falsworth and Dernier stopped at 50, falling dramatically to the ground. Pinky made it all the way to 76 before his arm literally gave out on him.

And then it was just her and Dugan. 80. 85. 90.

It was easy to tune out the comments and the snickers and focus on Steve’s booming voice, it was easy to make a fist and feel the pain in her pinky instead of the pain in her shoulder with every press up and torturous lower down.

Dugan had said to cough when she’d had enough, and he kept looking over at her, but she refused to yield. She wasn’t giving up until her body literally fell to the ground. She felt the fire of frustration and anger well inside of her, and wasn’t going to yield an inch.

“Fucking hell, Carter.” She heard Phillip’s voice off to the side, but she didn’t stop.

She just kept concentrating on the sound of Steve’s voice, and the way the rain mingled with the sweat dripping down her back. 101. 102. 103.

Dugan fell at 104. He laid on the platform, smiling up at her.

She was shaky, and she knew she didn’t have much more to give, but she wasn’t going to finish with her face in the ground. After the 107 she pressed back to her knees and shrugged, forcing a smirk on her face. “I think that’s enough, don’t you? 107 for the 107th?”

She could see Steve moving towards her to help her up, so she scrambled to her feet under her own power. “Do we pass, General Beckett?” she asked, refusing to look away from his astonished eyes.

“You do,” he replied, eyes tight as he looked at her. She wasn’t sure if he was angry, concerned, embarrassed, or any of a hundred other things, but she knew he was not happy. “Dismissed.”

They started to shuffle away, and she avoided looking at Steve or any of the other Commandos who were enjoying the moment of a little levity, and a lot of showing off.

“How the hell did you do that?” Phillips asked her as she moved swiftly past him. She stopped, even though she was eager to get into the one poorly made women’s shower and get the grime off of her though she was already soaked to the bone. She shrugged, trying to keep herself together for just another minute. “What else are we going to do while we’re sitting around a fire, camped out between missions? The one-armed push up contests have grown quite heated, which is why Captain Rogers and I generally don’t participate anymore.”

She turned, leaving his stunned look behind her. What she didn’t say was that prior to today, she’d only ever topped out at 82, or that most of the guys could have gone right up there to that number with her.

No, she didn’t feel like having a laugh at the moment, or chastising them for not giving it their best, or thanking them for being descent human beings.

No, she just wanted a lukewarm shower and to try to attempt to get dry in the tiny little tent she had at the edge of camp.

She could almost, almost appreciate that it was now quiet in most of camp because of the ruckus at one end. She made it to her tent for new clothes and to the showers without seeing anyone else.

She was thankful, because the rain had stopped and there was no way for her to hide her tears anymore in the rivulets trickling down from the heavens.

She tried to pinpoint the feeling as she shut herself in the little ramshackle tent, stripping the mud-soaked clothes from her body and sitting under lukewarm sprinkles of water that they called shower.

It wasn’t that they’d had to requalify. It was a technicality that was more annoying than upsetting.

It wasn’t the rain or the mud. They’d been living with it for weeks now and she’d almost managed to figure out how to keep herself dry.

It wasn’t even General Beckett sitting there like they were toys for his amusement, though she imagined that was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back.

It was that, for once, she’d finally started to feel like she was a part of things. Like she was equal to those around her. Like she mattered. And with just a few sentences, Beckett had allowed all that to be stripped away. He’d allowed the comments in the spectators that none of the Commandos, herself included, could stop while standing in front of a General unless they wanted to be reprimanded themselves. He’d laughed when she’d “broken a nail” and commented on her being a girl.

It reminded her so much of those days before she found Phillips and the SSR, before she’d found a comfortable place to be herself. It was men who didn’t trust her, and didn’t believe in her because she was a woman.

Peggy scrubbed at her skin, the anger growing deep in her belly again. She took slow, deep breaths, focused on getting the mud from between her toes where it seemed to have taken permanent residence. She focused on getting her heartbeat to slow as she untangled her hair and tried to wash the mud out with the little sliver of soap she had left.

By the time she was washed and dried, as clean as she could be in the mudhole they called a camp, she was very nearly calm again.

It was only a few steps back to her tent, and she slipped in quietly, avoiding the continued cheers and hollers from the rest of the camp. She wasn’t sure what was going on and didn’t quiet care, either. All she wanted to do was put her bare feet up, hope their dried before morning, and be by herself so she could find a way to look everyone in the eyes the next day when they started joking about her hanging around with the boys.

“Agent Carter?”

She sighed as she sat heavily on her cot, head hanging. She couldn’t leave him out there, and he’d be even more concerned if she told him to go away.

“Yes, Captain Rogers?” she called, very nearly tempted to laugh at their use of rank.

“May I…” He didn’t finish the sentence, and he sounded at least a little contrite.

“Please,” she responded, starting on the laces of her boots.

Steve had been in her tent here, and other places, enough to know to kick off his own boots before stepping anywhere. Even though the mud and dirt seemed to multiply, she did the best she could to keep her little space clean. “You left quick,” he said as he reached down, unlacing his boots. There were little mended spots all along his socks and they were just the wrong side of damp, and she softened just the littlest bit. He seemed so larger than life, sometimes it was easy to forget he was going through the same hell they all were.

“I was over the pageantry of it all.” She sighed and looked over her feet, soft and wrinkled from the muddy conditions and her shower, but finally free of mud.

He stepped in closer, carefully shedding his rain-soaked jacket and set it by the flap of the tent. “Where’d you go?”

She sighed, leaning back and patting the spot on her cot next to her. “To shower. Had I let all that mud sit in my hair much longer you’d be shaving my head come morning.”

He leaned back, looking her over. “You’d look better than half the guys, I’m sure.”

“Only half?” She did chuckle then, and raised an eyebrow when he pulled over a crate instead.

He shrugged, sitting in front of her. “My pants are still wet.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he was looking at her, or if it had been that she hadn’t had enough time to decompress, but she started feeling that welling in her belly, the anger and frustration turning into a tumultuous storm of loss and sadness. He reached out, running his thumb over her cheek, but she pulled it into her before he could say something touching that would start the tears all over again.

“How often do you stop them?” she asked, looking down at his hand in hers.

“Stop who?”

She ran her fingers over the pads of his, the slightly wrinkled ones of hers so much smaller. “How often…” she took a deep breath and held his hand in hers, “do you shut down the comments I don’t hear?”

“Peg…” Immediately, he took his hand back, leaning away from her.

“No, don’t ‘Peg’ me.” She grabbed his hand back and turned his face to look at her. “I saw those looks you were giving, the glares at the things they were saying to the men as they watched. I saw Dugan and Morita and Barnes all give the same ones. Those were not surprised faces. Those were “we’ve talked about this before’ faces.”

He sighed, pressing his hand over hers, eyes earnest. “They don’t know you like we do, Peg.”

She couldn’t keep the tears in. They welled and flowed over her lashes even though she tried to keep them. Wordlessly he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “They don’t know you like we do,” he whispered, brushing her wet hair to the side to press his cheek to hers, “They don’t know you like I do.”

“I’m just so tired,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. “Tired of trying to be perfect every second of the day, tired of having to be better than all of them just to prove my worth.”

“You’re worth more than most of them any day.” He kissed her cheek and pulled back, wiping her tears away. “And you’re perfect, just the way you are.”

She sniffed, almost laughing. “Have another cliché in there for me, do you?”

He laughed a mirthless sound before kneeling at her feet, letting her sit back onto the cot. He spent a slow moment pushing her hair back and memorizing the look of her with all of the make-up scrubbed free before he spoke. “One day, they might understand. But today, I do. I know that you just about broke your own arm out there to prove yourself. But Peggy…”

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “If you say I have no one to prove anything to, I may have to throw you out of here. I don’t need proof of what I can do, you don’t need proof, but those men? Those men will always need more. They will always look over their shoulders when I have their backs. They will always expect more from me no matter what I can do.” She let her hand fall to his cheek, wincing as the raw edge of her injured fingernail caught in his beard. “Even over a hundred push-ups won’t be enough because tomorrow they’ll all be asking me how I did it, and what the gimmick was, even though I did it in front of their faces. And there will always be men like Beckett who will be mad just because I can do those things.”

“You’re right,” Steve nodded, taking her hand gently in his to look at the ragged half nail and the scabbing nail bed from where she’d injured her hand. “And I wish I could change that. But I can’t, no matter what we’ve said to them.”

She deflated a bit, watching Steve roll her finger in his hands. “So, you have talked to them before.” His look told her he wasn’t telling, and she huffed in frustration.

“What does matter,” he started, gently holding her hand in his while he sat himself back on his crate and pulled out a small field first aid kit from his pocket, “is that I do, and I’m here now, ok?” He shook his head. “Beckett should have sent you right to get this looked at.”

“Just a nail,” she muttered, echoing his mocking after she’d fallen to the ground and looked at her finger.

Steve rolled his eyes. “In these conditions you can get gangrene in a papercut.” He looked it over again, setting the cotton roll and tiny tins of ointment in his lap. “You washed it, right?”

She wanted to be cross with him, she really did, but there was no way to be angry when he handled her with such care. The tears welled again, and she fought for composure as he gently spread the light yellow powder over the edge of the exposed nailbed then started wrapping her finger. She stopped him, a hand on his, with just a little smile on her face. “Why don’t you care?” she asked in amazement.

He smiled, going back to wrapping her finger. “Because you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met. Because you’re brave and beautiful and strong. Because you’ve managed to beat most of the Commandos in push up contests and you still care about how many stockings you have left. Because you spent the afternoon ruining your hair in the mud to prove a point and I know you’re going to spend too much time tonight setting it so come the morning it looks perfect, not for anyone else- though you might to prove a point- but because you like ti that way. I see all of you, Peggy Carter, and I like all of you. I love all of you.”

“Even those parts that—” She got choked up, couldn’t finish the sentence.

Steve set her hand on his knee and leaned forward, taking her chin in his hand. “Even those parts that other people might not like, or have told you aren’t lady like, or have criticized you for. I like them all. I love them all. No one else gets to have an opinion here except you and me, ok?”

She nodded, gently pressing her forehead to his. “I feel so silly, breaking down like this over a nail and some mud.”

“And six weeks of rain,” he added, “plus about two years of war.” He kissed her cheek. “We’re all worn thin, and that was unfair today. It was designed to make you look bad, to make you struggle in front of everyone else for Beckett’s amusement.” He nuzzled her a little, smiling. “I’m not far off, you know. One more night in wet socks and I’ll be right there with you.”

“Then strip, soldier.”

“Huh?”

Peggy pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “You know very well my tent is dryer than yours, and we can’t have the both of us at our wits end.” She leaned back, shimmying out of her clothes and folding them until she was in her slip on the cot. “Strip. You’re not getting in bed here in wet pants and socks.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He stripped quickly down to his boxers and tee, both mostly dry enough, before slipping into the small cot with her. It was a tight fit, even if they were face to face, but they’d made it work before and they’d make it work again. The war was dragging on and the desire to be with one another started to outweigh the desire to follow rules more and more by the day. He pulled the blanket up over them, even though there was still sun in the sky, and let a happy rumble sneak out as Peggy snuggled into his chest.

“My hair will look horrid tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to move my right arm.”

“I can lift anything you might want.”

“I’m fairly sure my back will be sore, as well.”

“I’ll carry you around. It’ll keep your boots clean, too.” He smiled, kissing her hair line and lifting her now bandaged finger into his hands to kiss gently, too. “Whatever you need, Peg. I’m there. But I’m gonna let you lead, ok? Especially in front of these guys. You want to do a hundred and eight push-ups tomorrow? Go for it, I’ll count every one. But if you want to walk away from them? I’ll be right next to you.”

“I hate that you boys feel like you have to say something…”

“We don’t feel like, Peg. We have to. It’s just like if they were talking about any other soldier. You start dissent in the ranks, bad things happen.” He sighed, pulling her close. “The Commandos have your back, but I need to know if I’m not there one day, the rest of the men will, too. Can you understand that? It’s not just about standing up for you, but about them knowing what you’re capable of, just like every other man on this base.”

She took a slow breath. “You’re going to make me cry again.”

“Please don’t,” he replied quickly. “I barely have this talking to you thing down, every time you cry I feel like I’m about to panic and fall apart.”

“You don’t show it, you handle it very well.”

“Less asthma attacks; makes the panic less apparent.” He chuckled. “But I do really hate to see you sad, Peg.”

“I shall try my best to be—”

“But don’t fake it, ok?” Steve interrupted her, leaning up on his shoulder to look at her. “That’s just as bad, alright? Just be you. Happy. Sad. Angry. I just want you, ok?”

She snuggled into his arms as he settled back down. “I think I can do that.”

“Good.”

Peggy held him down as he tried to wiggle to find a better spot. “Please stop moving. This is the warmest I’ve been since we got to this god-forsaken place and if you keep moving my toes poke out of the bottom.”

Steve looked down, grabbed the end of the blanket with his foot, and pulled it back over her feet. “Better?”

“Better.”

He held her for a long, quiet moment, their breaths slowing. “Thank you,” he whispered, just as they were close to sleep.

“For what? I should be thanking you.”

“For trusting me to take care of you. To trust me enough to let me see you cry and with wet hair and… well, one of the guys was saying he didn’t know how you did it, you know? His wife back home gets in bed after he goes to sleep at night and gets out in the morning before he wakes up and he never sees her without her hair and make-up done and while he was trying to make it sound like I good thing, I just felt sad for him. How can he ever know her if all he sees is the person she puts on for him every day?”

“That is sad,” Peggy muttered, yawning.

“Thank you for letting me see all of you, Peg.”

She felt a warm stirring in her belly, and she was sure it was the heat from his body more than anything, but she could also identify the contentment and happiness starting to gather. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long, long time because it had been hidden by the stress of the war. She hoped more than anything that the war would end, that the fights would come to a close so she could go on a proper date with Steve, so she could walk and hold hands and put on a dress and go dancing with him. She didn’t know exactly what to say, to voice, so she said the only thing that made sense in the moment. “Thank you for loving all of me, Steve.”

#SteggyWeek22 #Steggy #Steggy Fic #3p's fic

[fluorescentpipedream]

Ian Adelaide Mason Pearce - This beauty is actually Langston’s older sibling (only by 2 years) and is the first to be ousted out for their…uniqueness. Lord Albert Pearce has had three sons, none of which he’s been able to deal with much to the dismay and annoyance of many of those around them. Adelaide or Adela, uses Mason as their last name after they were forced to drop Pearce when their father cut them off and stripped them of any title related to the family. Apparently the name Adelaide is actually their great grandmother’s name from their mother side, “She was as elegant as Audrey Hepburn and deserves to be honored”

They are 36, and actually live in the same small village Deacon does, around the corner from his home. Apparently they had come for tea when he had been getting settled, fell in love with the area and had a home built as well, on the other side of the village though, oddly closer to the parish. Guy Buchanan had a tongue in cheek sign made for the yard that says Here There be Faeries Adela introduces themselves to Ali by baking a lavender lemon loaf and comes to visit the first time Deacon brings her (before the yacht incident

Gender fluid, they express their gender as whatever they please, whenever they please. They are bisexual, and prefer women though they have been with both, including Niall a few years ago. Very friendly and genuinely sweet, Adela works primarily as a professional photographer for the royal family, as well as working with Charlotte Moore in Black Moon Cosmetics, I think they do the photos for it though I’m not entirely sure.

Joseph Skinner - While I know Skinner is not his real last name (at least I don’t think so) he takes on the moniker when he joins the Suicide Kings as the lead guitarist, taking over when Wolf steps back into being the lead singer and I’m not entirely sure what happens to Scott. I think he stays in the band as a secondary guitar player but I’m not sure. 

Arthur Noble - Formerly a professor at Brown university he takes a significant pay decrease when he becomes Vice Principal of O Fallon East in Illinois. He does this after seeing how hollow the college age kids are and wants to find a way to help them actually succeed in their future rather than just be another cog in the wheel. Arthur has studied Sociology, Psychology and English Literature, the last was his specialty at Brown. He is kind and genuinely cares about the kids he’s taking care of, similar to Casper he wants to see people succeed and actually have some kind of passion going forward in their lives. He’s recently divorced but still wears his wedding ring, so I don’t think he’s quite ready to let that go. 

Casper Barnes - eldest brother to Elias (who uses their mothers last name, Sharpe, rather than their father’s name) and Cornelius. Casper has a very big heart and seeks to make schools safe for the kids under his care, he feels responsible for each and every one of them and considers what happened with the former vice principal a personal slight in his judgement. He has set O Fallon up to be a test school for new education practices and tries to make sure everyone is getting the best they can possibly get. After his middle brother’s passing he took over as guardian for Lilly though she does better on her own, so he’s there if she needs him for anything but doesn’t force her to live with him. 

Christopher Reigns - Christopher has been around for a while, a former sex addict turned psychiatrist and therapist for the same issues, he currently lives and works in New York City close to the rest of his degenerate family. After the drama with his younger brother Ethan, Christopher takes over taking care of Ethan’s son Tanner and picks up where he left off with Hannah Lee as well. He seems to be one of the few Reigns that has their head on correctly, he went through his trauma and addictions and managed to come out on top of them. 

Eirondyr Thalasane - one of the elves of the Woodland Realm of Murkwood (formerly Brightwood) and also one of Valenduil’s closer friends. He is actually older than Val, formerly being one of those closer to Legolas’ age. When Legolas chose to take his human wife with him to the undying realm, leaving their half-blood son behind in the care of his grandfather, Eirondyr (sometimes called Raine due to one of his spells) promised to keep an eye on him. While older, he acts as though he is still young and doesn’t work so much as a mentor as he does just a comrade.  Eirondyr is an arcanist, practicing arcane magic and a magister of glamour, he will occasionally make his ears disappear so he can travel amongst the world of men. He’s also been known to change the size of certain items, more often than not as a prank. He chooses, when Thranduil makes the proclamation that someone should pick up the quest to help Sara and her group, to go with them and Val, to help them traverse the destruction that is Middle Earth. He has connections to the Hobbits and the world of men as well, in Bard and a mysterious boatsman called The Blackwald (Halfdan)

Gage Robards - Gage’s real name is Gabriel Toussaint, he is the “lost” brother of the Toussaint sisters and has, for the last 10 years or so, been somewhat trapped inside his own mind. I don’t remember exactly what happened to Gage, he was put into a mental hospital by a member of their family and locked away there for something he saw and while there he had electro-shock therapy performed, which caused him to lose his ability to speak. Over the years, he came into the care of Sylvia Summers and is currently living in NYC with her. He has also learned sign language and does some speech therapy but he chooses most times not to speak because his vocal cords have been damaged as well. Gage has some memories of his sisters, and does still want to get back in touch with them. (he was sitting in my head the other day feeding the birds from a loaf of bread in Central Park) 

This creature doesn’t have a name yet, or at least hasn’t given me one yet but he is where the “super soldier serum” behind Project Wildfire comes from. He is actually a Hunter that was captured by the CIA by a former member of the early Section who shared with them what is going on behind the scenes, and told them that taking control of the darkness would mean better survival in the future. The Hunter’s blood has been used to alter and create the soldiers and failed experiments including Drayton and the rest of the hitmen as well as the pyromancer Badger and a handful of others. When Drayton calls on Kristy for her final job with them, they apparently find the ragged creature in a room, spitting all manner of obscenities at them. It’s against Kristy’s warning that they let him go, something that will come back to haunt later, as he makes a bee-line for Cirian wanting to punish humans for what they’ve done to him. 

Adrian Wilde - Professor at Harvard when he meets Crystal Townsend and against his better judgment strikes up an affair with her, he can’t really explain how it happens but he falls for her hard. When she expresses to him her fear in falling in love with him, he cradles her in his arms, combing his fingers through her hair and tells her to fall, he’ll always be there to catch her. Adrian originally wanted to be an author but never managed to make his stories translate into full blown books, instead he teaches creative writing, jokingly saying ‘those who can’t, teach’ but the reality is he is still writing and working on finishing his first book as his and Crystal’s relationship continues. While slightly concerned for the safety of his job while she’s a student, when she turns fully into her music he feels safer being more open about their relationship. 

Aryn Hobb - Aryn is an alien, first and foremost, having been on Earth since the late 90s, or somewhere there abouts, they were recruited into the very earliest form of Section and worked as a scientist for them after being brought in from NASA where they had originally worked as an astrophysicist. Aryn is a sebacean like Maxwell later on and actually is able to help with his assimilation into human culture a bit better (though it helps that Maxwell has actually been on Earth once before, even if it was back in the 1880s) Working for Section has helped Aryn blend in a bit more with the human race, feeling absolutely no desire to return to their people, as they were deemed less than by a tribunal of Commandants. Exile is one of the worst things for their people, as it separates them from their own, and being alone is unhealthy for them. Aryn stole a ship, rather than be cast out from their people and used wormhole technology to warp to this version of Earth C-139 (our earth, it’s apparently not one of the more popular Earths to travel to as it’s technologically inferior to most of the others in the alter-verse) Assuming correctly that they could hide there and because humans and Sebaceans are so closely related to one another, with only internal differences (and lifespan, they can typically live for about 700 years) most people wouldn’t pick up on without getting too intimate. 

When Aryn comes to work for the original Section they are figured out by the medical tech Avery and they come clean out of concern of being used and abused by these humans. Instead they find friends there and take a special interest in both Avery and later Justice. Aryn uses their knowledge of weaponry to create a brand new arsenal of weapons and “toys” used by Justice and the rest of the teams. In particular the holo-training lab and more recently some very interesting explosives. Outside of Section, Aryn has a very normal life, they have an apartment with a cat given to them by Justice’s friend Adriana, and spend their downtime with a small handful of friends. Generally they identify as non-binary, as it’s easier to explain their appearance, though their voice is incredibly deep. 

@musesnotebook

#Mason Alexander Park #Richard Armitage #tom sturridge #ferdinand kingsley #Robert Aramayo #Keanu Reeves #aurelio voltaire

[ruckystarnes]

Title: You Can Trust Me

Author: RuckyStarnes

Card: B018

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Yelena Belova, Sam Wilson

Warnings: swearing, fighting

Rating: Teen

Words: 1,595

Written for: @anyfandomgoesbingo | @buckybarnesbingo

Event: Any Fandom Goes Bingo | Bucky Barnes Bingo

Prompt/Square: G3: Former Allies | C1: Queer Platonic Relationship

Summary: Sam and Bucky hunt down a new threat

Type: Moodboard | Fic

“Are you sure this is the way?” Bucky groused quietly, gripping the glock as he peeked around the corner. There wasn’t anyone or anything there and he jerked his head at Sam to follow.

“Redwing doesn’t lie. It senses a heat signature about five yards from here,” Sam replied, his finger glancing over the control on his forearm. Bucky rolled his eyes, making Sam chuckle. “You can trust technology, Cyborg,” he teased.

“Wakanda technology is a bit more reliable than whatever made that thing,” Bucky responded with a slight shake of his head.

“Hey, don’t knock Redwing,” Sam stated, acting slightly offended. “I’ll have you know Stark designed him.”

“Again, Wakanda is more reliable. Maybe I should have a talk with Ayo about getting a new and improved version,” Bucky muttered as he made his way down the hallway. “You know five yards from here is straight through that wall where your pretend bird is hovering?” Sam looked up from the control, his brows knitting together as he looked at the drone and it made Bucky smile. “I’ll go right if you go left, whoever gets there first radios.”

“Barnes, I don't think–”

“Whatever, I’ll see you on the other side then,” Bucky interrupted and turned to go down the hall. He could hear Sam curse but he could hear his footsteps going down the opposite way. The building was pretty basic design, set up like most science facilities Bucky had roamed through in his past life: one hallway splits to wrap around center rooms before turning back to one again to a center room. His super soldier hearing could hear the slight hum of computers and very faint clicking of what sounded like keys on a keyboard. He didn’t see Sam when he turned the corner and radioed him to let him know he was in position. The reply was one curse and warning of Bucky not to go in without him which made Bucky roll his eyes, but he waited. He lowered his weapon and leaned against the wall, his ears perked to any noise that was coming from the room: only the clack of computer keys and the occasional mouse click.

“You move pretty fast for an old man,” Sam jeered, his eyes back down on the control panel and moved his finger over the screen, making the robotic bird quietly trill by Bucky’s ear and around the corner of the doorway. “Some person in a black suit and...four eye goggles?” Sam pulled a face and looked up at Bucky, who in turn just shrugged with a nonchalant look.

“Fought worse,” he replied, lifting his gun up as he readied himself to go around the corner. He took a tentative step around the corner and he could hear Sam readying himself to follow. Bucky’s eyes roamed around the room: desks with computers filled the space, but only one was on. Sure enough, there was a thin framed person clad in black from head to toe, wearing greenish goggles that indeed had four lenses. 

“Stop what you’re doing,” he called out, his gun trained on what he hoped was an actual person and not an alien or monster of sorts (he had his fill for his lifetime). “We’ll go easy on you if you cooperate.”

The person hesitated for a moment, looking over their shoulder and Bucky could hear a sigh of exasperation being let out before their attention returned to the screen. He heard three clicks from the mouse before the person turned around and faced him and Sam. The four lens goggles made his nose crinkle in confusion before raising his gun higher.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Sam called from behind him, and Bucky forced himself not to roll his eyes. Sam was irritatingly good at being like Steve.

“Ty chertovski shutishʹ,” the person groaned and reached behind their back to pull out two batons that gave a faint glow of red. Bucky’s eyes raised in surprise as he cocked his head, his grip loosening a bit.

“Yëzhik?” he whispered, lowering his gun, “is that you?”

The person tilted their head slightly, hesitating at his words before they started to run towards them, swinging a baton at Bucky. His flesh hand came up and gripped the baton, wincing as bolts of electricity coursed through his hand and up his arm, making him curse.

“Yëzhik, stop,” he growled through clenched teeth, “Stop it.” The person kicked him hard in the chest, sending him staggering backwards. He could hear Sam rushing forward, speaking words that would probably make Steve proud, but the masked person backhanded the baton across his face, followed by what Bucky knew was a widow’s bite.

“Bucky, if you know this person, you might want to try to get them to knock it the fuck off.” Sam grunted as another kick landed against his side, making him fall to his knees. The baton made a sickening crack as it came across Sam’s face again. Bucky shook the shock off of him and ran towards Sam’s attacker, his arms wrapping around the small frame, pinning their arms down to their side. 

“Enough Yelena,” Bucky growled in the ear of the attacker, holding them tightly against his chest. The person struggled, wiping their head back, which connected with his nose, but Bucky kept his grip, letting out a string of curses in Russian. An elbow connected with his ribs before the person turned their wrist, sending volts of electricity through his body which made him lose his grip on them. His hand reached for the black mask, pulling it off the person’s head, revealing a blonde woman with narrowed blue eyes.

“Yëzhik,” Bucky grunted, hand moving to his nose and winced when he realized it was broken, “Natasha got you out. Why are you–”

“I’m not your yëzhik, Soldat. Haven’t been since you left,” she spat back, her eyes shifting between him and Sam, and Bucky knew she was trying to access a way out. “You've been gone too long to call me that anymore.” She huffed out a breath and blew a stray flaxen strand out of her face.” 

Bucky sensed her movement before she realized and caught her ankle as she tried to jump upwards to the vent above. He yanked her down, letting her land on the floor with a heavy thud and stood over her. 

“You were always a little shit, you know that?” Bucky sighed, his foot connecting with her hand as she drew a small knife, kicking the blade away from her grip. “And always thought you could take me one on one.”

“I broke your nose,” she countered, her body moving to slip from under him, but his hand gripped the back of her suit and yanked back, giving Sam an annoyed look. 

“Only because I didn’t want to kill you.”

“Because you knew it was me.”

“Damn right. Think Natasha would come back from her grave and haunt my ass if I killed her sister after I promised her I would try to find you after what happened in Wakanda.”

“Well, I was dust,” she spat out, spinning again to try to loosen his grip, but it failed. “Would you let me go mudak?”

“Chert vozʹmi, yëzhik, ty ne mog by prosto ostanovitʹsya i pogovoritʹ?” The Russian had her still for a moment, her face softening slightly as she sighed. Bucky knew better than to let go of her, knowing all of her tricks as he was one of her teachers all those years ago. Sure enough, after a few seconds she tried to run. “You never listen, do you. You can trust us, trust me. Please,” he said softly. He let her go then, she turned to him and shook her head slowly.

“I don’t trust anyone anymore, brat,” she replied evenly, “there’s no one left to trust. You left, Natasha left. I cannot find my parents. Contract work is easy. No strings, no attachments.”

“So you went back to being a Widow,” Bucky countered, his hand coming up and waving along her body.

“I have my own mind now,” she spat back, “I didn’t have that until another freed me.”

“Yelena, c’mon, Sam and I can help you.”

“Wait, what?” Sam replied quickly, stepping towards Bucky, “we can’t trust every Russian we happen across because you might have a history with them.”

Bucky furrowed his brows at his teammate and gave him a look of disgust. “She was like a sister to me,” he replied at the same time as Yelena pulled a face and made a gagging sound.

“Seriously, you two, I’m good. Espionage and being a ghost is kind of my thing,” Yelena added, taking a step backwards, “but, uh, if you see Kate Bishop around, tell her to call me. Would like to have some coffee with her.”

“Who’s that? You’re girlfriend?” Sam smirked, turning towards the blonde.

“I don’t date, Barnes can tell you that,” she smiled, her face almost soft when she looked at Bucky. “It’s been good boys, and great to meet your boyfriend, brat, but, um, I think it’s best we don’t do this again.” She jumped up and gripped onto the vent before pulling herself up into it.

“So, that was Natasha’s little sister?” Sam asked, looking up where she disappeared.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, hanging his head.

“And she still had whatever she stole on her?”

“Yup.”

“And we aren’t going after her?”

Bucky looked at Sam and clenched his jaw. “No. We’re going after whoever is making her do this.”

#bbb2022 #bucky barnes bingo #bucky barnes #sam wilson #yelena belova #bucky barnes & yelena belova #bucky barnes drabble #yelena belova drabble

[the-silent-windchime]

Midwest/Southwest Gothic

Here’s a list of things I associate with my particular brand gothic horror

My dad took us out to Oklahoma once to visit the house he grew up in. When we got there, we found a cracked concrete slab supporting the skeleton of a few crumbling walls and a nearly intact red brick chimney. There was the hollowed-out shell of an old VW Bug sitting on cinderblocks in the overgrown yard, and a barn that swayed every time a strong breeze picked up. The house, like a concerning amount of the childhood houses in my family, had burned to the ground years ago, and the title to the land was lost in the system. It’s unclear who now owns the land, and by extension, the house, or what they intend to do with it, but someone had zip tied a piece of cardboard to the fence that said “do not trespass”. There was a horse standing in what used to be my dad’s room.

One time I was riding my bike to work and happened to go past one of the town’s most notorious meth houses. They had a dog, and I’m not good with dog breeds but this one looked like it had been bred to be mean. It pulled its lead from the ground as I biked past and chased me all the way down the street, managing to bite me in the leg. Every time I tried to speed up to outrun it it got more agitated, so I just stopped. The dog stopped too, and just watched me from across the street, refusing to come any closer or let me approach. After a little while it wandered right back to the meth house and curled up under the saggy front porch. That dog was gone the next day.

Corn fields are spooky, but nothing is scarier than being in the woods by yourself at night.

Animals just wander into your space all the time. They have no concept of civilization vs wilderness. We would get deer, turkeys, coyotes, moles, groundhogs, and even once an entire family of black bears. There was a stray cat in the neighborhood that we never once saw, and only knew existed because it left dead mice on our back patio when we started leaving the door to the shed open at night.

Nothing, and I cannot stress this enough, NOTHING is more terrifying than turning on your brights when driving at night and suddenly seeing a crowd of deer standing on the side of the road, watching you as you drive past.

Cars coming on the opposite side of the road will sometimes flash their headlights at you as a warning about something, usually a cop. One time I was driving up the side of a mountain and a car coming down flashed their lights so frantically that I just found a place to turn around and went right back down. I passed someone else going up and gave them the same warning without knowing for sure what I was even warning them about.

My blog name is actually based on an item I pulled from the detritus of an old hoarder’s house I was helping clean out. The guy must not have liked the sound of the windchime, because he’d glued cut up bits of pool noodles to it to silence it. This one is less Midwest gothic and more what the fuck went on in your head dude

My grandparents have lived in the same trailer park for all my life. It’s a nice little place out in the middle of nowhere in Kansas, all the neighbors keep their places clean and quiet and they were all polite on the few occasions I interacted with them. It is Kansas, though, so the only way to get to the park is on the one cracked up old road that goes out of town and cuts through miles of nothing as far as the eye can see. And as someone who grew up mostly in urban areas, it’s a bit strange to see the plumes of smoke that go up every couple couple of days when people burn their trash (my grandpa is big into recycling, so for the longest time my grandparents used the inside of an old washing machine as a burn barrel)

Flea markets.

Pawn shops (bad and evil, full of weird taxidermy, walls of scratched up DVDs, and guys who are way too obsessed with guns)

Casinos were The Backrooms before The Backrooms were cool, and it’s completely by design. Manufactured fucking liminal space, baby

The weather changes on a dime. Sometimes after a few days of really warm weather the clouds will just close up like a trapdoor and turn the sky white instead of blue. And sometimes after a storm the clouds will blow away and the sky will be so blue it almost hurts to look at.

These were all the ones I could think of off the top of my head. I mostly did this because the search results for “Midwest gothic” were a lot of abandoned houses in the country and weird, decaying religious signs. And yeah, there’s a shit ton of that stuff in the midwest, don’t get me wrong! But that’s not all there is.

#midwest gothic #little bit of southwest gothic sprinkled in there #there’s not a clear cut distinction between them sometimes #horror #writing inspiration #if anyone else has any stories they want to add on I’d love to hear them!

[themculibrary]

Fics With Titles That Start With G Masterlist

Gaja (ao3) - rustingroses bruce/natasha T, 11k

Summary: The doors to the prison cell slammed open, and a woman in a low-cut scarlet dress that perfectly matched her hair came striding in. Her locks curled around ivory shoulders and a gold necklace, framing a serious face. Her lips, too, matched her hair, drawing the eyes irrevocably to that full mouth, made for sin. Her clear blue-grey eyes glinted even in the dim overhead lighting. Aphrodite wouldn’t have turned her nose up at such a figure or face; if the goddess possessed even a portion of this woman’s beauty and grace, no wonder Paris had given Aphrodite the apple.

Of course, as far as he could recall, no goddess carried a pair of strappy gold heels in one hand and a gun in the other.

Huh, Bruce thought woozily as the Hulk roared with frustration and rage at this new threat. Bruce tightened his grip on the Hulk and the cage of anger that contained it, forcing it to yield to him. Bruce had chosen to be here, and had not chosen lightly. This woman would not wrest his control from him. I didn’t know hallucinations were a side effect of this drug.

Gardens of Asgard (ao3) - a_kinkajou, hermionesmydawg steve/bucky E, 11k

Summary: They were warned numerous times - don't veer off the path in the Gardens of Asgard.

Of course, Steve Rogers heeds the advice of no one. Ever.

gator around the warm beds of beginners (ao3) - napricot sam/bucky E, 39k

Summary: How Sam and Bucky get by, after Thanos is defeated. Or: the story of how two idiots become roommates, partners, friends with benefits, and maybe something more, if they could just stop being so oblivious, while they wait to find out if their Steve’s ever coming back from his trip through time.

Gentlemen Prefer Pink (ao3) - glittercake steve/bucky E, 5k

Summary: Steve considers him for a moment.

“Beg for it.”

Bucky makes a terribly helpless sound, “Steve! Fucksake! Steve, please??”

He grins, stares down at Bucky’s mouth as he says the words. He’s probably a dick for getting off on it, “Nicely.”

ghosts that we knew (ao3) - wilsonsnest sam/bucky T, 46k

Summary: Sam (reluctantly) agrees to do a commission for Steve's rich but extremely reclusive friend, James Barnes.

Sam just stared at the other man, the feeling of being watched suddenly overcoming him. God, what kind of weirdo didn’t even come to greet their guests? It was one thing to be a rich recluse, but another thing to just completely ignore people wandering around your house.

“Steve, this is really weird.” Sam stressed. “This isn’t weird to you?”

Gift of Asylum (ao3) - carleton97, sister_wolf clint/darcy E, 47k

Summary: The story of how Darcy Lewis accidentally helps found the Avengers while having an epic, failboaty romance with that dude she nailed in a bar two years ago. Tasers, jackbooted thugs, Tony Stark, and life-altering job offers are par for the course when you help discover an alien/god dude with amazing pecs.

Glow (ao3) - glittercake sam/bucky E, 3k

Summary: Sam showers Bucky with compliments and ridiculous nicknames. It's not Bucky's fault that he starts falling for the guy.

Go And Make Aunt Peggy Proud (ao3) - Nanerich pepper/tony, steve/bucky, mj/peter, peggy/husband T, 19k

Summary: When Howard screws around with one of Hank Pym’s quantum theories, things go south, quickly and that in a way Peggy did not imagine in her wildest dreams: they end up in the year 2019. Luckily, a vigilante in a bright red, skintight spidersuit can help them out and take Peggy and Howard to who will be able to help them out.

Go For The Throat (ao3) - laylabinx T, 9k

Summary: Peter finds out the hard way what it means to be the Ravager mascot and Yondu uses this as an opportunity to teach him how to kick someone's ass.

Going Yard (ao3) - Brenda steve/bucky E, 41k

Summary: Going Yard: Baseball vernacular for hitting a home run.

This is the love story of shortstop Steve Rogers and pitcher Bucky Barnes, estranged childhood best friends about to be reunited on the same team.

This is a love story about New York's other baseball team, the Avengers, and their quest to claim the National League East division title.

This is a love story about going home and new friends and team bonding and first loves and how the people you're the closest to can also drive you the craziest.

But mostly, this is a love story about baseball and the boys of summer who play it.

gonna marry that boy (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor clint/tony G, 6k

Summary: Clint runs a coffee shop with his best friend Natasha, and he has a crush on one of the customer's, but he's never actually talked to this boy. He's awkward enough as it is, and things get even more difficult once he learns who the customer is.

Good Things Come to Those Who Look (ao3) - notbeloved07 bruce/tony T, 5k

Summary: Back when Tony was at MIT and Bruce at Harvard, at some point they met--science convention, bar night, what have you--and had an instant connection. Bruce let it go, in part because he was focused on Betty, but Tony didn't have a whole lot of moments where he'd felt actual genuine connections and he held on to that encounter.

Now, after Afghanistan, Tony realises just how important those connections are and he tries to find Bruce. When he stumbles on to him in Shield's files, he talks Fury into putting Hulk on the Avengers roster, brings him in, and desperately tries to balance world-saving with hardcore flirting and coming up with ways to get Bruce to stay.

Got a Heart in Me, I Swear (ao3) - thepartyresponsible bucky/clint, steve/tony M, 36k

Summary: The pictures leak on a lazy off-season Sunday, in that muddled bit of midafternoon Clint never knows what to do with when he isn’t training. He curls up with Lucky on the couch and naps through the end of his whole damn life. And that, honestly, is pretty much perfect.

got the waves running through your thighs (ao3) - bisamwilson sam/bucky E, 2k

Summary: The first drink he’d ordered upon landing on the island was, in fact, a sex on the beach, just for the novelty of it all. Peach schnapps had never been his favorite—a fact which had thoroughly confused everyone from the time he’d started to drink—but it was the principle of the thing.

He’s drinking a piña colada now, much more to his taste, and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin and the sand between his toes, trying his best to not feel annoyed at how much reading Bucky saw fit to do on this vacation.

Apparently, he’d really thought she’d meant a drink.

Got to Do What You Love (ao3) - BlackEyedGirl clint/phil M, 8k

Summary: Phil has control issues, Clint has power issues, and the Avengers are a bundle of issues. It’s no wonder Maria wants nothing to do with them. Phil doesn’t seem to have a choice.

gotta make me follow through (gotta make me chase it) (ao3) - aniloquent sam/bucky N/R, 5k

Summary: The one where Sam's a hot vegan grocer and Bucky lies to get him to go out with him.

Great Unknown. (ao3) - ClaraxBarton bucky/clint T, 3k

Summary: Smugglers and dragons and karaoke and space. Oh my.

That’s it. That’s the summary. Enjoy or suffer at your will.

Ground Control to Major Tom (ao3) - Ellen Fitzwilliam Brandybuck (AFixerMuse) drax/mantis M, 39k

Summary: Waking from a centuries-long cryogenic sleep, alternate Earth astronaut Major Tommiah Jones finds herself among space pirates, in a world and time apart from her reality. Now she must do what's necessary to survive, find purpose, and perhaps avoid falling in love with trouble incarnate: Yondu Udonta. Song prompted one-shots. Humorous smut

Grow To Be (ao3) - Sororising sam/bucky T, 110k

Summary: Sam flops back down onto the bed, shoving a few of the pillows behind his head and upper back - there’s way too many for one bed; if you multiply that by thirty bedrooms there must be -

“I can’t do math when I’m drunk,” he says mournfully. “Bucky, come here and help me do math.”

Bucky lets out a small laugh. “Bet you say that to all the girls.”

Sam doesn’t know how to unpick that sentence. He isn’t even going to bother trying; he just waves his arm around in Bucky’s general direction, hoping that he’ll make contact eventually.

Grumpy Coffee Kitten (ao3) - rebelmeg harley/shuri, mj/peter, bucky/darcy, clint/natasha T, 26k

Summary: When Clint Barton, the owner of Bean There, Brew That, takes off on an extended vacation, he leaves his coffee shop in the hands of his trusted sidekick, Darcy Lewis. Darcy is not prepared for this, but that's not going to stop her from keeping the shop going, keeping her sassy baristas in line, and maybe getting a tiny bit smitten with the new regular that started showing up, looking like a sleepy assassin and cooing at his coffee.

Bucky Barnes is a former soldier trying to deal with the effects of PTSD, at the encouragement of his best friend and not-actually-a-therapist Sam Wilson. It might have been sort of an accident the first time he steps into Bean There, Brew That, but it's a first step in a really good direction. He likes the coffee shop, he likes the people that run it, and he definitely likes the sugar-soaked monstrosities that they make for him on a daily basis.

What could possibly go wrong with putting a recovering veteran in the hands of a bunch of sarcastic baristas with access to legally addictive stimulants? The answer is... not much, actually.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #ficsg #ficsg masterlist #masterlists

[bongaboi]

Memphis: 2023 Liberty Bowl Champions

Memphis football had not won a game as an underdog all season, but the Tigers dispatched Iowa State in the AutoZone Liberty Bowl 36-26 on Friday at Simmons Bank Liberty Stadium.

Memphis (10-3) jumped out to a 19-0 first quarter lead and held on during some precarious moments in the fourth quarter to get to a rare double-digit win season.

Quarterback Seth Henigan was excellent again, breaking the all-time passing record for Memphis football in the third quarter. He finished 24-of-34 for 364 yards and four touchdowns and also rushed for a touchdown to pace the Tigers.

Iowa State (7-6) fought back after the rough start and had some momentum near the end of the first half. But Memphis did just enough to stay out of striking distance.

The Cyclones entered as 10.5 point favorites but struggled through most of the game, and the Tigers earned the win in their home stadium in front of an announced 48,789 fans mostly split between Memphis and Iowa State.

Memphis football came out swinging The Tigers would've been hard-pressed to put together a much better start. Henigan hit Demeer Blankumsee for a 70-yard touchdown on the opening drive, and then the Tigers defense came up with a fourth-down stop to get the ball right back. Henigan rushed for a touchdown and then found former Iowa State receiver Joe Scates for a 51-yard touchdown, and the Tigers were flying. Slow starts have been an issue, but almost everything went well out of the gate.

Seth Henigan etched his place in Memphis history Henigan finished his third season as Memphis' starting quarterback by setting the Tigers' record for career passing yards. He found Scates for a 17-yard gain late in the third quarter to pass Brady White as the leading passer in Memphis football history. Henigan has 10,773 career yards and announced before the game he'll return for next season and will be well-positioned to break basically all of the Tigers' career passing records.

Iowa State quarterback Rocco Becht had success Memphis had been worried about stopping freshman RB Abu Sama III, who rushed for 276 yards and three touchdowns in Iowa State's last game against Kansas State. The Tigers defense shut Sama down early, but could not contain receiver Jayden Higgins, who had five catches for 140 yards in the first half.

Iowa State quarterback Rocco Becht threw for 446 yards and three touchdowns and improved as the game went on, but Memphis always had enough of a lead to keep the Cyclones in check.

The Tigers defense impressed Memphis had spent most of the season engaging in shootouts and generally struggling to stop its opponents. Defensive coordinator Matt Barnes left for Mississippi State before this game, so linebackers coach Jordon Hankins was serving as interim defensive coordinator.

Iowa State couldn't get its running game going, and the Tigers were able to get pressure on Becht throughout the afternoon.

Memphis has momentum heading into next season The Tigers will no doubt be among the favorites and possibly the favorite heading into next season's AAC title race. Of the three teams that finished ahead of them, Tulane lost its coach, UTSA lost its quarterback and SMU is headed to the ACC. The stakes will be higher with the expanded playoff, and Memphis will have real expectations at the beginning of next season. Friday's win gives Silverfield and his staff something concrete to build off as they prepare for a critical 2024 campaign.

#2023 #college football #memphis tigers #bowl season #liberty bowl