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collecting-stories · 2 years ago

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Savannah Mae - c. 28 - Daryl Dixon

Summary: Savannah's birth and the weeks after.

A/N: If you read the original than you know this is already worlds different so...sorry if you preferred that one. There'll still be some 'finding out' on Savannah's part later on. Also...I had posted this before but took it down to make it better and genuinely think I made it worse.

Georgia Series | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☀︎ ☀︎ ☀︎ ☀︎

Patricia tacked the photo up above the coffeemaker for anyone and everyone to see. The sweetest looking baby, cheeks pudgy and eyes squinting with a little green bow in what little hair she had, swaddled in a floral blanket. Savannah, the sharpie on the back of the photo said, with the date of her birth underneath. You’d sent it to her in a letter followed by a phone call to see if there was anything (anything at all) that you needed. There wasn’t, you promised, along with promising to be home as soon as you were able to.

Dale came by as soon as Otis called, inspecting the photo and telling them to pass on some love (and a check) to you. Maggie didn’t wait for a photo, driving up on the weekend with Glenn and Beth to meet her goddaughter. She called her dad on the phone so he could pray over the baby, all eight pounds and three ounces of her. There were calls of congratulations and Otis had made the hike up to your dad’s house on Patricia’s orders with pre-prepared meals and gifts he’d collected, even a message left on the answering machine from your mom asking about seeing her granddaughter if you had the time. Everything was working to make you miss Kings County more than you thought you would.

When your dad had driven the two of you home and you’d settled Savannah in for that first night at the house you couldn’t shake the aching feeling in your chest, like something was missing. You knew it wasn’t just Daryl and you said as much to Maggie when she showed up to meet the little girl.

“Feels like there should be a house full of people crowding in to see her and give me all the parenting advice I don’t need and asking why she hasn’t already been christened even though she’s only been alive for a week.” You had admitted while you were sitting at the kitchen table feeding her and letting Maggie make you tea. The scene felt overwhelmingly adult though you were feeling more and more like a kid these days. Everything seemed too complicated and too big to be yours. A baby, a husband (in prison, no less), college, a part time job...you wanted to be able to just drop something, as if that was a possibility. Like elementary school when you couldn’t do soccer and baseball at the same time so you stopped playing baseball. But all these things were yours and you couldn’t leave any of them behind.

When you’d first started actually dating Daryl it felt like you were hanging on to small town Georgia life because you didn’t want to let him go but being closer to Atlanta only made you miss home. You wanted to be near Maggie and Patty and you wanted to go to the same old church and work in the same old diner and do all the things you always did. This, the being away, made you feel like you were stuck out at sea when everyone else was safely on the boat.

“You’ll be down before you know it,” Maggie had said, as if she could already see your future all laid out in front of her. It was the same thing she always said when you mentioned even the slightest feelings of homesickness to her. Maggie’d had her whole life planned out since the day you met her. She was going to get married (that part had been fuzzy but it was clearer now that Glenn was in the picture) and she was gonna have kids and she was gonna take over the farm from her daddy when he got too old to run things.

“Four years is a long time...” you felt like everything lately was going double the speed but too slow at the same time. Four years sounded like a decade but nine months had gone by in the blink of an eye. “Besides, Daryl’s got ten max.”

“You can’t just think of it as sitting up here waiting for him, you gotta live your life.”

Easier said than done, you wanted to say. “I know, I know. It’s not like I’m just cooped up watching the calendar or something. I just mean, even if I do go back to Kings County...Daryl’s not gonna be there. I just, I don’t know. Nobody’s talking about me here, ya know? I don’t have to listen to gossips whispering behind my back while I serve them breakfast. And that’s kinda nice but...there aren’t any familiar faces either and I just keep thinking to myself, how much I miss him.”

Maggie smiled, “Oh, they’re doing that whether your home or not. Patricia’s already got Savannah’s picture all up on display. People can’t come through the door without her or Otis telling ‘em all about it.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you had talked to Patricia almost every day since you’d left, hearing stories about Kings County and telling her every detail of Savannah’s few weeks on earth. You wanted to tell Maggie that it really wasn’t much of a decision for you, this place was your dad’s home but it didn’t feel like yours. “I just wish I could speed up the time a little bit. Make everything happen faster than it’s happening right now.”

You missed Kings County most of all on the day Savannah was born. It was a good few hours' drive up to your dad’s apartment and Michonne had been planning all month to take some days off so she could be around when the due date approached but timing was never your strong suit so it was no surprise the baby came early. Two whole weeks and Michonne was on shift, leaving your dad (nerves already shot from years of living with your mom) to be there with you at the birthing center.

“I read this, this...article. I read this article that said skin to skin contact is the best way for, uh, for babies to form, like, bonds. Do you, do you think that’s true? That if a baby doesn’t have the, uh...the skin to skin...do you think they won’t bond? Like, later?” You asked, twisted in the bed so you could watch the nurse hanging fluids beside your bed. Your hands kept seizing up as you held the railing, fingers contracting and releasing in an effort to rid yourself of the feeling of needles under your skin. You knew the anxiety attack was there even before you really felt it, the air in the hospital room heavy and humid no matter how cool the AC was trying to make it. You felt like you were going to vomit and you wondered how you’d managed to hold it together for the last eight months because even your lowest points felt like highs right then at the birthing center.

“Honey,” your father’s tone was soft and knowing, he’d heard every irrational thought that crossed your mind and more than once had driven you down to the jail to see Daryl, though trips got more and more infrequent the closer you got to term. “It’s okay,” he was attempting to be reassuring, you knew that, but you could only hear someone tell you that things would be okay so many times before you wanted to scream.

“No,” you snapped, waving him off with an arm that felt like lead, “no! I read about it.”

“It helps,” the nurse replied, whether she knew exactly what she was saying or not, you were just happy that someone had the decency to be honest with you. “But it’s not the only thing that forms a bond.”

“Ya see honey, nothing to worry about.”

It was a nice sentiment in the moment and you knew it was supposed to calm your nerves but it did little to help in actuality. You felt more and more like your entire life was imploding and you were trying to focus on the present, what was happening right now (the epidural having reduced the intensity of the pain you had been in when you first arrived), but thinking about the baby made you think about Daryl and thinking about Daryl...

“I should’ve kept going to see him,” you said, watching the nurse as she walked out of the room. “I told him I couldn’t-”

“It was putting too much stress on you and the baby. Your doctor even said so.” Your dad pointed out. The excuse was a nice one, the same one you used on Daryl, but it was more than stress that had kept you away the last four months. “Besides, Daryl told you not to be coming down all the time.”

“I know,” you felt yourself starting to tear up, eyes blurring as you pressed the side of your face into your pillow and looked out the window, “I know what my doctor said but it was just bullshit, I mean, I was just angry...that’s it. I was angry and I was being a brat and I didn’t want him to get to have any of the moments I was getting. Like...if he was gonna be in there then why should he get to feel when the baby kicks or see the sonongram or any of that but it was just shit. It doesn’t matter...I was just angry and it was for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing baby,” your dad stressed, “you’re allowed to be angry at someone, even if you love them. Especially if you love them. You don’t have to let someone put you through shit just cause they’re being stupid. You’re allowed to be mad and you did this alone and you’re allowed to decide how that happens.”

You glanced back at him, “what if he doesn’t wanna see her? If he’s angry right back and doesn’t want anything to do with us?”

“Doesn’t sound like him at all.”

It took 36 hours and coming close to breaking your father’s hand, but Savannah Mae Dixon was born right around dinner time the day after you came to the hospital. She was seven pounds and ten ounces and she already had a full head of hair. Michonne had gotten there in time to be in the delivery room too and she stood on the other side of your bed, brushing your hair away from your forehead and telling you what a great job you were doing.

When it was finally just the four of you, back in your hospital room while you fought off falling back to sleep as you held Savannah in your arms, it felt like you could finally relax.

“I still remember when you were born,” your dad started to say, reaching over cautiously to brush a few strands of hair over on Savannah’s head. “well...your mom had me out in the waiting room the whole time, with her dad sitting there next to me staring me down. But otherwise, I remember.”

“I told Daryl this was too hard but...I really wish he was here right now.” You admitted.

“He wishes he was here too, I’m sure of it.” He replied.

“Yeah well, he would be-”

“Honey,” your dad cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “You can’t change what happened and you can’t dwell on it either. Trust me, there are a million things I wish I coulda done differently, that I’m sure you wish I had done differently, but we can’t go back. Just have to make the most of what we have right now.”

You sighed, focusing your attention back on the baby in your arms. You knew that your dad was right but you didn’t really want anyone else’s opinion or attempts at rationalizing. All you wanted to do was lay there and pity yourself. And you couldn’t help thinking about Daryl being with you, he would’ve stayed the whole time, not stepped outside like you’d heard Rick did. Things you thought would bother him never did. He would’ve tried not to smile, maybe he would’ve even pretended not to cry. He’d try to play it cool but he’d be the first to hold the baby.

“If your daddy was here he’d be so excited to meet you,” you whispered, cradling her closer to you as the nurse returned to the room, “you got his pretty blue eyes, so I’m hoping you keep ‘em.”

Patricia wasn’t the only person who could stake a claim in pictures of Savannah. Hershel had hung one on the bulletin board in the vestibule (encouraging the congregation to pray for the baby and you), Dale had photocopied Patricia’s and hung it in the auto body shop (right beside Axel’s calendar of Sport’s Illustrated models), and then there was one hanging on the concrete, whitewashed wall of Daryl’s cell. It was a llitte too big to fit in a wallet and had bent at the edges during transit. He taped it right beside his pillow so he could see it at night when he couldn’t sleep.

Michonne had been the one to send it to him, along with a quick note telling him that Rick was swamped with work and Carl and things were always looking grim with Lori and that was why he hadn’t managed a trip out to see his best friend. What she didn’t say was that Rick wasn’t coming but Daryl already knew that, he would have been more shocked if she told him the deputy sheriff was planning a trip. He played along though, biting his tongue whenever Michonne tried to make things seem better than they were. The picture was just another reminder that Daryl had screwed up.

“Look at her, she’s adorable!” Paul had been the first to congratulate him (the only, really), peering at the photo from the desk in the corner of the cell as Daryl taped it up. “Aaron and I talked about adopting someday. I don’t know if I can anymore...actually.”

Daryl, like most times, remained silent.

Paul, like most times, kept on talking, “How’s mom feeling? Any postpartum issues?”

“Haven’t heard,” Daryl shrugged, “she ain’t been coming ‘round.”

Paul’s expression changed to one of mild embarrassment, of course he knew that you hadn’t been to see Daryl in close to five months but he’d been a little hopeful, especially when the letter was opened, that you’d let go a little of the frustation that had turned to bitterness. “Sorry,” he apologised, solely for mentioning any of it in the first place, “just saw the picture and figured-”

“Friend a mine sent it.” Daryl replied, cutting him off.

The last time you’d been to the prison you were just around five months pregnant, still sick most of the time and trying to take night courses at the community college near your dad. Whatever the honeymoon stage of being together that you and Daryl might’ve been in before had weened. You looked less like you wanted to be there and more like you wanted to run back out the door and he couldn’t honestly blame you for it.

He’d been waiting for this day for a while. Counting down all the good moments until the bad one came.

“I don’t think I can come up anymore,” you picked at the hem of the maternity dress as you sat at the table across from him. You felt like throwing up, anxiety blubbing in your stomach. You’d rehearsed this speech a million and one times before you finally made the trek out to see Daryl. “It’s just a lot of stress on the baby, you know?”

“I get it,” Daryl nodded, hair falling in his eyes when he bowed his head. You weren’t meeting his eyes and you hadn’t since you sat down. Hands still in your lap and body tense as you tried to stumble through some kind of explanation.

“It’s just...it’s been hard. And it doesn’t feel like it’s gonna get any better, ‘specially not once the baby’s actually here.” You said, “I can’t be taking a baby to a jail every week Daryl. I got enough on my plate as it is.”

“I get it.”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna see you...I do. But-”

“I get it.”

You huffed, leaning a little closer and finally looking at him. “Is that all you can say?” You snapped, “just ‘I get it’?”

“What’d ya want me ta say?” Daryl asked, “been saying since the beginning that ya’d get sick a me-”

“I’m not sick of you Daryl...god. I’m just...I’m trying to raise a baby. Our baby. That you’re supposed to be helping me with. And instead, you’re here and excuse me if I don’t feel like packing up a fucking car every week to haul a baby here because you were too boneheaded to do what you shoulda done.” You said, voice dropping to a whisper so no one around heard you.

“It ain’t that simple.”

You shrugged, “you know I love you Daryl...I just, I just need some time to-”

“I get it.” He cut you off again, crossing his arms on the tabletop and looking toward the clock. There was hardly time left for the visit but the last few minutes felt like decades, silence stretching between the two of you as you waited. Daryl said nothing else and when it was time to go he stood and left before you even got up.

He regretted the conversation but then, Daryl regretted a good deal of his life. He wasn’t sure if he was just trying to self sabotage or not but the moment you’d told him you didn’t think you could keep showing up he was shutting down. He could feel the end, because he could always feel the end, hovering right there behind him and threatening anything good that he ever had the opportunity to have.

When he zoned back into the conversation Paul was still having, even though it was onesided at this point, he realized the guard was outside there cell door. Visitation, it was tuesday, and he was calling both their names. Daryl fully expected to see Michonne sitting at a table waiting for him with some new update that he didn’t want. She had been coming by for the last three weeks, since Savannah was born, to tell him how you were doing. As much as he wondered he wanted to tell her to stop coming. If you didn’t want him to know, if you didn’t want to see him, than there was no point in dragging him along, forcing him to hope that maybe things would change.

But it wasn’t Michonne and Paul tapped his arm excitedly before heading over to see Aaron. You were sitting there with a baby in your arms, looking a little unsure of yourself. When you saw him and smiled he was reminded of the way you’d looked the first time you met him, so eager but so nervous. He’d wanted to spend all day driving you around in his truck then and now he was already aching knowing that his time would be up soon.

“Didn’t think ya’d come by.” He said, sitting down at the table and fixing his eyes on his daughter.

“Michonne told me she gave you a picture, wanted you to see her in person.” You replied. You shifted so you could show her to him, her blue eyes staring into his.

Daryl reached across the table to touch her cheek and then her hand, tiny fingers clutching at one of his weakly. “She looks like ya. Thought it when I saw the picture, thinking it even more now.”

“My dad said she’s much quieter than I was...said I never stopped making noise. Sometimes I think she’s sleeping she’s so quiet and she’s just looking around. Quiet as a mouse.” You said, “I figure she gets that from you.”

“Ain’t surprised ya were mouthy as a baby...yer mouthy now.” He replied and snorted quietly when you kicked his foot under the table.

“I am not!” You huffed. You looked around to the guards standing at the edges of the room, “think they’ll let you hold her?”

Daryl seemed to tense at the suggestion.

“You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.” Even with all the months of knowing that you were going to have a daughter, you knew it wasn’t exactly something Daryl was completely ready for. You weren’t ready for it yourself.

“Ain’t that,” he assured you, “just don’t wanna drop ‘er or something...have ‘er cry second she sees me.”

“She’s not gonna cry Daryl, she’s your daughter.” You assured him, looking back over toward one of the guards. A nicer looking one that you hoped would feel bad for you. “It alright if he holds her?”

“That’s fine.”

“See, said it’s fine.” You stood up and came around the side of the table, shifting Savannah in your arms so that Daryl could take her from you, “support her head,” you instructed. You’d been saying it to everyone all the time. Half the time saying it to yourself in a whisper when no one was around, as if you might forget how to hold your daughter.

Daryl took Savannah from you, cradling her in his arms. The faintest of smiles crossed his face as she looked up at him and you felt like all the pent up emotion drained out of you. Like your shoulders relaxed and for the first time since your daughter was born you didn’t feel quite so alone. A somewhat ludicrous thought, considering Daryl’s current predicament and the wealth of people that had shown up to offer support (even Aaron had dropped by to hold Savannah and volunteer himself for chores) after the baby was born. But you didn’t really mind having the thought, giving into naviety for just a moment and enjoying the way it felt to watch Daryl hold Savannah.

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restapesta · 3 years ago

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them playing truth or dare

Tami had been the one to suggest it.

Ian found it weird that everybody just went along, minds still sane and all, eager to comply and play as if they weren't all full-blown adults with marriages and children; but a few beers in—sans Lip who was sporting a Diet Coke—maybe it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise; the kids were otherwise occupied, Liam was at a sleepover, the Gallagher house was free for them, and them only.

Maybe Ian shouldn't have balked at his husband who had enthusiastically said yes! to playing truth or dare, as if they were all a bunch of teenage girls, begging for their crushes to be revealed. Ian watched Mickey from the corner of his eye as he took a shot of vodka that had been haphazardly lying on the table for communal use—great, Ian would be getting drunk Mick tonight. They'd probably have to crash at the house. Even Ian had a beer to drink and he got hammered pretty fucking quick.

"Okay," Tami said loudly, shushing the small crowd of people who were sitting all around the living room, speaking in a frenzy, voices mushing in together so it wasn't even conversation, just fucking loud and incoherent. Her hair was clinging wildly to her sweaty forehead, strands flying around as if electrocuted, and Ian realized this was the first time after her second pregnancy she was able to really get drunk. He applauded her for it, hoping she was having a great fucking time. Over a year of abstinence and he'd go fucking crazy, probably.

Ian couldn't help but guiltily look at his brother from the corner of his eye as if he'd been able to read his thoughts. He only looked away once Mickey elbowed him, whispering lowly how Ian should probably slow down with the drinks. Wouldn't want you to faint in ten fucking minutes and need me to drag you back home, said the man that was drunk off his ass.

Even inebriated he worried.

"Hey!" Tami shouted until all eyes went to her and the voices drowned out, dissipating into murmurs, one of them being Ian telling his husband that, it was so cute you're worrying about me, earning himself a middle finger in the face. She continued, seemingly pleased with herself for shutting a bunch of Gallaghers up, a feat not easily accomplished (what she didn't know was that everybody was still talking, just discreetly enough for her to not hear).

"Since I was the one who came up with the idea," She said proudly as if playing truth or dare was the smartest, coolest idea ever. "I think I should have the honors of starting."

Lip snorted beside her, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're drunk but okay." His head was shaved off completely, prompted by lice Fred had brought back home from day-care.

They were both sitting on two cushions on the floor, leaving Debbie on the sofa near the door, and Carl on the couch next to Ian and Mickey. His Coke can was so close to his leg, just begging to be spilled. Ian fought the urge to tell him to just move it to the side, but well, everybody else was practically drunk, so it didn't seem too fair. He was forced to endure a bunch of assholes while sober; the least they could do was offer him more Cokes and leave him to ruin his stomach in peace while they all ruined their livers.

"Shush!" Tami swatted at him, a concentrated look on her face. "We're playing."

Lip raised his hands in surrender just as Ian turned to whisper into Mickey's ear, "This is gonna be a shit show."

It was Mickey's turn to shush Ian, swatting him gently on the arm, focus solely on Tami and her upcoming question. He looked genuinely interested in what Tami had to ask—maybe he was looking forward to some juicy questions. Ian thought she'd be the one to ask the blandest ones.

"We're playing," Mickey said once Ian leaned in again to tell him just that, and Ian just shook his head lightly, biting his lip to stop from smiling.

Tami moved her eyes from her boyfriend all the way to Debbie who was fucking around on her phone, typing away slowly. Ian knew she was paying attention, but he also knew that her new girlfriend and their "relationship problems" probably exceeded the game right now.

"You ready, Debbie?" She asked, eyes dropping in sympathy. "This first one's for you. You said you needed to get your mind off of things."

Debbie lifted her eyes from her phone, eyebrows going up, biting her lip. She shut the screen off and crossed her legs, nodding to herself. "Shoot."

"Okay, so—"

"—What’s the most embarrassing thing that turns you on?"

Lip groaned along with Ian at the question. It didn't matter if they all knew everything and anything about each other's sex lives—Debbie talked about hers in a way that not even Ian and Mickey do. So Ian just squirmed in his seat, grimacing and then shooting a glare towards his husband who snickered at his facial expression, and they all sat and waited for their sister to start talking about sex as if they were begging to hear about it. Ian was mentally preparing for having his ears bleed.

"Hmm," She said. "Probably thighs."

They collectively blew out grateful breaths that she didn't feel the need to explain her answer. Ian still squirmed, because, well—why the fuck did he need to have that in common with his little sister?

"Carl," Debbie said, fiddling with her phone again. She probably got a new message she would need to send a ten-paragraph rant over. "What's the worst thing about sex, in your opinion?"

Ian eyed Carl beside him as he shrugged. "Not getting any."

It was Mickey who reached over Ian to clap him on the shoulder, grin wide on his face. He really was drunk. "Good answer, kid."

Ian turned to look at him, face scrunching in confusion. They literally had sex before they came over. "What are you talking about? You haven't spent a day in the past, like, four years not get any."

Mickey shrugged, sipping on his beer. "There were times I wasn't gettin' any."

Ian rolled his eyes. He knew Mickey inside, out—that man always got some, whether it be with Ian or without. So he asked, "When?"

Mickey looked at him, eyes clearer than before, still drunk but sober enough to answer Ian's question earnestly.

He cleared his throat, then sucked on his teeth when he saw Ian really was looking for an answer.

When the fuck did Mickey ever do celibacy shit?

"Look, man," He said. "sex," He annunciated the word. "isn't really the same when it's not with the person you want it to be with. It's weird and mechanical, and knowing what sex you could be having instead of the robotic fucking makes you hate it." He looked over at Carl. "I get what you mean by not getting any because I hadn't seen Ian for two fucking years before prison, and most of that time I just thought I'd have miserable, loveless sex for the rest of my life, so," He shrugged, again, settling back into the cushions. "Not getting any isn't just not having sex. It's not having sex with the only person you want to have sex with because you'll never see them again for the rest of your life."

"So," Lip started, a teasing air around his words. "Pointless fucking equals not getting any, and lovemaking with Ian here equals you bitches are soulmates?"

Mickey snorted. "Yeah, fuck you."

He then, probably noting how Ian was staring at him, completely flabbergasted, met Ian's eyes.

There was a second of them just staring at one another, Mickey's eyes quickly going up and down Ian's form in the most loving/sexual way, before he averted them to Carl again. "Come on, man, who's next?"

Carl grinned wickedly. "Ian,"

"Yeah?" He finally forced himself to stop staring at Mickey who was now placing his hand soothingly over his thigh, silently saying, You know what I meant. I know you know what I meant.

Carl's question was quick.

"Do you believe you and Mickey are soulmates?"

Ian's right eyebrow went up—he'd been practicing after a heated discussion with Mickey at three am on a Wednesday about who had better eyebrows. He was a sore loser.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well," Carl said. "You've just broken up more number of times than I've had girlfriends—"

"We've always come back to each other," He interrupted, tone defensive; slightly frustrated. Mickey's hand squeezed, warm through the fabric of Ian's sweats.

"Yeah, but—"

"There's no question about it, Carl. If there's anybody in this world that's literally meant for me, it's Mickey. I've loved him since the very first day I met him, and I'll love him until the day I die." He meant it with every bone in his body and he just wished somebody would put it in question again, after all they had been through. Wasn't that proof fucking enough that if there's anybody in this world Ian loves more than Mickey, it's Mickey loving Ian back?

"That answer' your question?" He asked, chin jutting out.

His hands went up in surrender as he lowly whistled. "Got it, chief."

"Yeah, Ian," Tami said, eyes rolling animatedly. "We get it—you love each other most in the world, blah, blah, barf."

Mickey choked out a laugh. "Come on, Red," He said, looking again towards Ian, gaze soft. "Next question."

So they played on.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless us #fan fic #*ficlet #this was supposed to be longer but i decided to cut it off here because i felt like adding to it would make it drag #first thing i've written in a month #had no school today so i just spent seven fucking hours studying #pleaseeee recommend some good fucking fics in my inbox. i need some shit to read tonight. tyyyyyyy #ficlet #emina answers

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cozycottagetarot · 3 years ago

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Pick a Pile: Your Next 10 Days

Piles 1-4 starting from left to right.

This is a general reading intended for many so not everything may resonate. Usual disclaimer at bottom.

Feedback is appreciated, and I'd love to know if you find/found any of the things from your pile coming/came true.

P I L E 1

Difficulties or obstacles you may face: The Roane Mermaid

The Roane Mermaid card actually doesn’t represent any obstacles, however two necessary bits of advice attached are 1.) do not be afraid to ask for help and 2.) concentrate on what needs to be done.

How you’ll be successful in obtaining your hopes and wishes: The Right Whale

The Right Whale is about focus, understanding and intuition. Some actions associated with this card are considering your values, reminding yourself (or figuring out) what direction you’re heading, and doing what it takes to get there. This card is also about finding support in close friends and/or relatives, but be careful of putting your trust in or relying on someone who has commitments elsewhere.

Potential things in the next 10 days: The Mermaele, The Mermaids Glove, The Sith Mermaid, The Water Nymph, The Nix, The Common Dolphin, The Nixie, The Gray Whale

A wish (big or small) being granted. Being mindful of impulses. Be cautious of gaining one desire only to ‘throw off’ the whole plan. Fun approaching. Someone declaring feelings for you. Friendly contest. Being rewarded for a small act of kindness. A happy ending in love. Financial wealth. Someone may be deceiving you or trying to ride on your coattails. Holding on to your original plans. Someone around you draining your energy. Intuition. Success in making the most of your potential. Focusing on yourself. A new chapter of any sort. Travel abroad.

Common/Duplicate Messages: Holding on to your original plans. A wish fulfillment. Listen to your intuition. Asking for/accepting help. A new romance.

Affirmations & Advice from the cards: Faith sees the horizon beyond the wave. | The pathway to a dream is one of sacrifice | Talk happiness and happiness will gravitate towards you. | Lose not a tide and waste no time. | The power that creates and sustains you heals. | The first to wisdom is understanding. | Calm waters reflect clearer images than rough waters. | You never know what great idea may arise in your sleep. | Your soul will build what it is trained to expect. | To give and receive genuine love brings a gift of happiness.

P I L E 2

Difficulties or obstacles you may face: The Killer Whale

The Killer Whale is about exploitation and deception as the Killer Whale’s appearance makes it look smaller allowing them to fool their prey. Your advice here is to 1.) keep a clever mind and dive deeper and look beyond what is presented to you. 2.) remain adaptable to your environment and resources.

How you’ll be successful in obtaining your hopes and wishes: Proteus

Avoid taking on anything that may only become troublesome or a burden. Guard your interest and do not be intimidated. Success lies in your sensible adaptability.

Potential things in the next 10 days: The Roane Mermaid, The Hooper, The Nixie, The Bottlenose Dolphin, The Striped Dolphin, The Black Dolphin, The Humpback Whale, The Vodyanoi Sprite

Focusing on yourself. A new chapter or renewing of a new chapter of your life. Help from someone in a high position. A new sense of courage. Concentrating on what needs to be done. Knowing what you want and getting it. A changing relationship or a new relationship from an unlikely meeting (doesn’t have to be romantic). Shifting your appearance. Invitation to travel. Someone potentially trying to seduce you. Many interested in you, but question their motives. A surprise. Help from mother or female friends in particular. Getting together with a new group of friends. Working with and developing your strengths. Creative ideas.

Common/Duplicate Messages: Gatekeeping. Adaptability. Meeting with important people. Staying focused. Receiving help. Travel (hot & sunny places mostly). A new cycle or fresh start. Creative projects.

Affirmations & Advice from the cards: Perseverance and determination bring results. | Plan, relax, and flow with the tide . | Faith sees the horizon beyond the waves. | The one principle that runs through the universe flows in the waves of the sea. | Your soul will build what it is trained to expect. | Safe shores of emotional and physical security are yours. | Good news flowing through the ether waves will answer your prayers. | Recognise which waves will carry you to your new horizon. | Nothing can be done without the proper means. | The ebb and flow of the tide carried good tidings.

P I L E 3

Difficulties or obstacles you may face: The Mermaid’s Rock

This card is kind of tricky as it’s one of those cards that don’t really have any negative connotations. The only message from this card I would say that can be interpreted as an obstacle is whether or not you’re able to tap into your inner strength and hold on to your faith in whatever you may be facing.

How you’ll be successful in obtaining your hopes and wishes: The Sperm Whale

Mainly, as long as you put your mind to something, you can achieve it.

Potential things in the next 10 days: Melusina, The Kelpie, The Right Whale, The Common Dolphin, The Gray Whale, The Blue Whale, The Bottlenose Dolphin, The Siren

Receiving a response you desire. An invitation from someone emotionally attached. Choosing who to hold on to and who to let go. Remaining calm will put you in a better position. Think before you act. Seeing through appearances. In control of yourself. Help from mother or female friends in particular. Good news. Someone being curious about you. Push yourself (within reason of course. Please don’t overwork or exert yourselves). Travel abroad/to the coast. Being ‘set free’ or a new beginning. Listening to your intuition. Considering your values. Checking in on your goals. Finding support in close friends and/or relatives. Be careful of putting your trust in or relying on someone who has commitments elsewhere.

Common Messages: Being observant. Being able to adjust or shape a situation to your liking. Achieving goals you set with focus and an extra push. Trust & listen to your intuition.

Affirmations & Advice from the cards: When two people in their hearts are one. they shatter the strength of stone. | Make friends with the cheerful and optimistic. | The calm of patience brings a tranquil sea of protection. | The longings of your heart are prophecies of realities. | The pathway to a dream is one of sacrifice. | You never know what great idea may arise in your sleep. | To give and receive genuine love brings a gift of happiness. | You will achieve your dreams through innovative solutions. | Safe shores of emotional and physical security are yours. | In the treasure of a day light is thrown on what could be tomorrow.

P I L E 4

Difficulties or obstacles you may face: The Pilot Whale

One of things The Pilot Whale speaks to is taking a moment to asks yourself if others have your best interest in heart or if you’re taking the wrong route if you’re doing things out of the ordinary. Make sure you’re carefully planning and know who you can trust.

How you’ll be successful in obtaining your hopes and wishes: Melusina

The key thing is to remember to think before you act and remaining calm as impulsive reactions can jeopardise situations or make them worse than they need to be.

Potential things in the future: The Humpback Whale, The Triton, The Nixie, The Vatea, The Kelpie, Ningyo, The Merbaby, The Kraken

Something coming to an end. Nothing to be afraid of. Happy days ahead. Focusing on yourself. A new chapter or renewing of a new chapter of your life. Vulnerability— make sure you’re guarded and cautious as you get to where you need to be. Avoiding being sidetracked. Achieving what’s good and right for you. Invitation to travel. Someone potentially trying to seduce you. Trying to free yourself from the unconscious. ‘Your ability to master forces lies in looking deeply into your subconscious.’ Good fortune in waves until the biggest arrives. Meeting a stranger (potentially romantic). Someone you already know may want you more. Refuse to be disheartened or muddle-headed.

Common Messages: Being careful with your actions. Be careful of someone being dishonest with you. Questioning the motive of others. Control yourself/Self awareness. Going into your subconscious. You have the answers you seek inside.

Affirmations & Advice from the cards: You are your own fate and control your own destiny. | The calm of patience brings a tranquil sea of protection. | Nothing can be done without the proper means. | Your aim rather than your desire is your real doctrine. | Your soul will build what it is trained to expect. | The secret of happiness is consciously uniting with the best in you. | The longings of your heart are prophecies of realities.| Astral light and an image of the world and oneness integrates the two, them and you. | The skill of being in harmony increases your effectiveness. | Your success and happiness lie within you.

___

Disclaimer: I read tarot for self reflection and guidance purposes, but as always, this reading is for fun and entertainment purposes only. I may include advice for if you find a particular topic resonating, but it is in no way meant to replace any kind of professional advice. Any reading I post is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Prediction readings are to be seen simply as a potential outcome. Finally, please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #ariesmoontarot #tarot predictions #pick a pile reading #pac #pac reading

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honeytae · 3 years ago

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Happiest of tipsy birthdays to you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUNA!!!!! ahh where do i even start, i’m so grateful for you and our friendship :( you create such a safe space and radiate such love and light, you deserve everything that you put out into the world and i hope you have the best day today and every day! i love you so much, please accept my gift of a jimin drabble (that i really should just title ‘For Luna’ honestly) and millions of virtual hugs and smooches today. happy birthday @stayjimin!!!!!!!!!

genre: fluff word count: 1.7k

“Oh my god Jimin, we’re so screwed.”

Falling into the man with a cackle, you laughed even harder when he too fell over in his unsteady state, tugging you down with him onto the set of stairs as your combined giggles echoed off the walls.

Your head spun in the best way possible as you laid down on Jimin’s chest, far too gone to care about the dirt on the floor of the dorms stairway, both drunkenly collapsed from your birthday night out.

You couldn’t remember how many shots you’d taken. It was, as they say, all a blur. All you could see was Jimin on that dance floor, switching between sensual moves to downright idiocracy as he shimmied his shoulders all the wall from the bar back to your booth, offering you drink after drink with that charming smile of his.

Damn him.

With your blood alcohol level, walking seemed to be impossible. Doing stairs, even more so. You were definitely well past tipsy.

“We really are.” He sighed happily, crescent eyes making you even dizzier in your state as you stared at the man’s beautiful features.

He always got especially giggly when he was drunk, which was probably what you adored the most about him. Consistently happy when he was sober, yes. But get a shot of tequila in his system and he was giddy.

His body was soft yet firm beneath you as his arms latched around your frame, the rising and falling of his chest creating a calm within you that only he could.

“Chim,” you called, “we have to get up these stairs.” You remembered suddenly, setting your chin on his pec to look up at him as he seemed to ponder the thought.

“We could call Bang-”

With a snort, you cut him off, making the man pout as he squeezed at your side.

“What?”

“We’re not calling your manager to get our drunk asses up the stairs.” You said, bewildered at the thought as Jimin only shrugged with a grin.

You were drunk, but you weren’t that drunk.

“C’mon, I’m getting tired.” You tried to lift yourself off his body, only to falter slightly on your way up as you tried to complete the action too fast.

Jimin easily caught you in his arms even in his altered state, chuckling slightly as you gripped his bicep for support, subtly feeling up the muscle he’d built there with no shame present in your buzzed mentality.

“Hm, these are nice.” You commented as you squeezed the hard tissue again, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter at your unabashed praise.

“Thank you, dove.” He replied, the pink on his cheeks from the alcohol increasing at your words. Before you could make any other moves on his body, he began slowly guiding you to sit up with him before rising to his feet again with a grunt.

Offering his hand down to you, you missed it twice, the vodka messing with your head more than you’d like to admit as you finally gripped onto his fingers. With his opposite hand resting on the railing beside him for support, (he’d learned his lesson last time that it was hard to get up from the ground with seven shots down the hatch), he pulled you up from the ground with little to no help from your weakened body, pulling you into his side with an accomplished sigh.

Softly smiling over at you, he squeezed your hand in his, lifting them together and wordlessly throwing your arm around his shoulder.

Even though he had consumed just as much alcohol as you did, he found it much easier to level out his swaying than you, speech significantly clearer despite the lack of difference between the amounts of alcohol you’d drank.

You’d always been a lightweight.

After pointing this fact out, Jimin giggled fondly once again, making you grin over at him as you studied his face through your bleariness.

“You’re worse than Hobi-hyung.” He pointed out with a teasing nudge of his elbow, his words causing you to gasp in genuine offense as the man beside you laughed once more.

“Okay, my little leightweight. Let’s go.”

Although the next few sets were challenging, somehow you finally managed to reach the boys’ floor, both of you giggling and stumbling all the way to their front door with cheeks aflame from both your alcohol intake and intense struggle up the stairs.

Propping you up between the door frame and his shoulder, Jimin raised his other arm to pound on the door, repeating the set several times before whining when his knocks went unanswered for the umpteenth time.

“Fuck, can they not hear us?”

“I think the whole city can hear us.” You commented absentmindedly, eyes widening in pleasant surprise as Jimin leaned into you again with drunken giggles escaping his mouth. With a sigh, he reached into his jean pocket for his phone to dial what he thought to be Namjoon’s number.

With the number immediately going to voicemail, Jimin’s shoulders deflated a bit, tapping his fingers against the screen to send a message to the groupchat.

“Is it possible that they have the world’s biggest earplugs?” He huffed, banging his fist against the door again before his eyes widended when he heard the sound of shuffling from the other side.

Knocking his fist harder against the wood, Jimin determinedly kept up his actions, you leaning your head on his shoulder while chuckling at the man’s antics. You’d surely hear about this from Yoongi in the morning.

“Jimin?”

The deep voice from behind the door was immediately recognizable of Taehyung’s familiar drawl, a slight rasp in his uncertainty of who the hell was banging down the door so late - well, early - in the morning.

“Taetae! Hey!” Jimin shouted into the peephole, said man whipping the door open almost immediately to shush him, swollen eyes giving away that he’d most likely been in a deep sleep when you two had begun your ruckus outside the door.

“Shh, Jimin. People are trying to sleep.” He whispered, both you and Jimin nodding wide-eyed as you stifled grins at the parent-like scolding.

Taehyung looked over you both for a moment, sighing at the dirt from the stairs imprinted on Jimin’s black jeans. He could only imagine how you two had gotten home.

“You guys are idiots,” he shook his head, “And you should’ve called me. Come on.” He ordered, one hand cemented to the top of Jimin’s spine and the other one laid on the back of your shoulder to guide you both into the apartment.

“Is everyone sleeping?” Jimin whispered, Taehyung humming in confirmation as he led you both down the silent hallway, every single bedroom door shut snugly as the members slept behind them.

Your hand was still miraculously caught up in your boyfriends even as Tae pushed you both to the door of Jimin’s bedroom, fingers locked around each other to ground yourselves even when the world around you was spinning so intensely.

Jimin’s steps were slower than normal, as were yours due to the amount of alcohol flowing through your bloodstream, and his movements were stalled as he approached his door. Wrapping his fingers around the doorknob took concentration and extra effort, but he managed to twist the door open, almost falling flat on his face when the door gave way beneath his hold.

“Christ, Jimin.” Taehyung swore under his breath, grabbing the man underneath his bicep to pick him up to stand on his own two feet again. Jimin only breathed a chuckle in response as you bit down on your lip, Taehyung’s obvious frustration with your drunken foolishness making the situation much funnier than it’d already be.

“C’mon, guys. Keep it movin’.” Tae ushered you both in front of him, giggling all the way as you let yourselves be blindly guided by his hands.

“Tae, I’m really trusting you right now. I don’t know where the bed-” you paused suddenly as you bumped into an object with your thigh, reaching your hands out to find the plush mattress beneath your touch, “hey, that was fast.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but let out a snort at your words, shaking his head as he directed you two to the bed, pulling his eyebrows together with a whine when Jimin began audibly unzipping his jeans.

“Yah, don’t strip with me in here!”

Grunting in response, Jimin tossed his pants on the ground, meeting your eyes with a laugh as you crawled onto the bed.

“I’m not sleeping in jeans, you freak.” He mumbled, sass rolling off his tongue even in his now increasingly sleepy state, Taehyung scoffing in response yet nevertheless grabbing a blanket from the end of the bed to cover you both in.

With a directing nod of his friend’s head, Jimin collapsed onto the bed with a chuckle, you following the man as he tugged on your hand to pull your body on top of him. You both sighed in content as Taehyung threw the blanket over your bodies, the air conditioning in the room causing a brisk chill to raise bumps on your arms.

“Do you guys need water, pain meds?” Taehyung asked, pausing at the bottom of the mattress to answer any requests from the two groggy bodies in front of him.

“No, we’re great.” Jimin sang, laugh erupting out of his nose as he glanced up to view his friends thoroughly annoyed expression.

“Sorry we woke you up, Taehyungie.” He said, the pout evident in his voice as you hummed against his shirt.

“Yeah, sorry Tae.”

“Mm. Are you guys going to be okay in here if I leave you?” He asked, leaning his palms on the end of the bed as you both nodded your heads.

“We’re good. So good.” Jimin slurred, making you giggle as you leaned up to plant a kiss to his hot cheek. His eyes sparkled at your affection, squeezing you to his body with a grin.

Jokingly rolling his eyes, Taehyung stood up straight, striding over to your bedside light to flick it off with his finger.

“Alright, goodnight guys. Happy birthday, dear.” He added, you only humming in response before snuggling in to Jimin further. The sound of the door shutting was obviously softened for the other sleeping members’ benefits, Taehyung’s padding footsteps barely heard as he made his way down the hall to escape back into his own bedroom.

“Did you have a nice birthday?” Jimin whispered after a beat of silence, glazed over eyes meeting yours in the dark as you carefully lifted your head, the pounding already minorly setting in.

“I did. I had a very tipsy night.” You admitted, closing your eyes when his fingers stroked a few strands of hair back behind your ear with a fond chuckle.

“Good. You deserve it.”

Leaning up, he placed his pointer finger beneath your chin, pressing his lips to your cheek, over to the tip of your nose, your other cheek, and finally landing with a sweet peck to your lips.

“Happiest of tipsy birthdays to you.”

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fluff #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin x reader #park jimin fluff #park jimin imagines #park jimin imagine #jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin imagines #jimin imagine #writing #fluff #x reader #reader insert #bts

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

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Come Back To Me (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes has gone through hell and back to reach his happiness, and his happiness came in the form of the love of his life. But what happens when she’s ripped away? What happens when she comes back and can no longer be happy herself? How does he get her back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: AAAAANNNNNGGGGGSSSTTT, sooooo much angst. Lil bit of fluff as well (also, we’re gonna pretend like Endgame didn’t really happen, and WandaVision wasn’t as emotionally devastating), smut

Warnings: extreme sadness, depression, refusal to eat, unprotected sex, allusion to ra*e, but not the act. if there is anything else, please let me know and message me :) (MINIMALLY EDITED)

Word count: 9301 (it gon be a ride)

Bucky’s been scared many times in his life before. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, but most of the time, even as the Winter Soldier, he was terrified. Afraid to fail and of the consequences that would follow, afraid to succeed and have another person’s blood on his hands, afraid to look in the mirror, for the face staring back at him wasn’t quite his own, and even afraid to sleep in the dark, terrified the spirits of his victims would come out for revenge. But he’s never been as scared as he was in that moment, pointing a gun at the head of the love of his life, while she did the same, only without any clue as to who Bucky was.

His mind was still processing how they’d gotten in that position, and it refused to accept it, because nothing, not a single thing had clued him in on how that day could turn south so quickly.

It had started off as usual with Bucky’s flesh hand sliding down Y/N’s naked spine, as she had her face pressed against his toned chest, small snores escaping into the air, while a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of her mouth.

Bucky couldn’t help the smile lifting up his lips. It was moments like those, he believed in good things. 5 AM, the New York sky dark and without a trace of morning light probably until 8 AM, with his favourite person in the world pressed up against his side, soaking up his warmth, leeching it off without any shame after having been satisfied (or at least he hoped so) by his tongue, fingers and, well, other things as well.

Y/N shifted a bit, trailing her palm up to his abs and settling in the middle of his chest to feel his strong heartbeat. Bucky laid his palm over hers. Even in her sleep, she didn’t hesitate to entwine their fingers and bring them under her chin, closer to her, as if she needed him next to her at all times.

He felt bad, he truly did, as he squeezed Y/N’s side, making her frown. “You gotta wake up, dollface. We gotta get ready.”

“Dunantdo,” she mumbled, and if Bucky hadn’t been there to take care of her drunken ass more times than he could count, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher her slurred words as “don’t want to.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “And believe me, there’s nothing in this world I’d wanna do more than lay here with you… well maybe go down on you a few more times at some point as well, but the mission won’t happen on its own.”

Bucky felt her chest rumble against his, as she laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind you going down on me, mission and all.” Her words were clearer, but still laced with sleep, and muffled by his skin while he felt her calves run against his as she stretched out.

“I know you don’t. The missing hair chunks on my head prove that.”

“Hey!” she slapped his chest but soothing it immediately blearily looking at him with a pout. “I didn’t pull that hard!”

“I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “In fact, if you ever stop doing that, I will make sure you regret it, but unfortunately we don’t have time for a rendezvous. Jet’s gonna be ready in an hour.”

Finally, after having accepted the fact she won’t get any more sleep, Y/N lifted herself to rest on her elbow right next to Bucky’s ribs and opened her Y/E/C sleep-filled eyes to look into his cerulean ones. “We can still squeeze in a quickie if we hop into the shower together.”

“We can,” Bucky hummed, metal fingers lifting up to cup her cheek and place a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. “But you know a quickie for us is never quick.”

Y/N let out a scoff and pushed away from their fluffy duvet, making her shiver as she placed her feet on the cold floor. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one with the super-soldier stamina.”

“And you,” he pinched her ass making her squeal before giving him the middle finger and taking the red Henley she’d so happily taken off his body the night before only to put it on herself, “are the completely irresistible one. Can you blame me for wanting to spend eternity between those two legs in every way possible?”

The smile she threw him over her shoulder was nothing short of wicked, but instead of joining him in the warm embrace of the bed, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. “Keep talking, Mr Charmer. Might just get you what you want.”

Bucky was happy about having super speed as well with how quickly he hopped out of the bed and pressed her against the cold tile wall.

***

Much to Steve’s annoyance, although they were barely fifteen minutes late, Bucky and Y/N were late, and when he saw the smug grins both of them sported, he genuinely thought his eyes would get stuck at the back of his head with the hard roll he gave to them.

“As a new policy,” he started, flipping over the mission file, “I’m putting you two on a celibate streak.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, plopping down on one of the metal benches as the Quinjet lifted in the air. “Really, Steve? Do you truly want to deal with Bucky like that? Cause I know, I don’t.”

“Well, your fondueing is disrupting the schedule.”

“Oh relax,” Nat butted in, throwing Y/N a chocolate bar, given how no one had had time to eat proper breakfast. “It’s not like the HYDRA base was going to suddenly disappear.”

“It could’ve,” the blond super soldier countered.

Nat rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the smile she had on her face. “Which is why we have an inside man, who as of three minutes ago has confirmed – they’re still there. And by the looks of it, not even trying to run.”

Bucky’s arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “See? Everything’s still on track. Besides, from what I heard from Sam, he’s loving the whole under-cover thing so we were doing him a favour.”

Tony had gotten out of the pilot’s seat and joined in on everyone discussing Y/N’s and Bucky’s sex life, so that was her cue to switch the comms in her ear from ‘communication’ setting to the ‘music’ setting, leaning against Bucky’s side and closing her eyes, cashing in on those lost sleep minutes she’d spent in the shower with her lover.

When they had about forty minutes left in the air, Bucky once more woke Y/N up as she’d fallen asleep while Steve and Tony went over the last briefing.

“Bucky and I will take the South-side entrance,” Steve said, pointing at the holographic map Tony had pulled up. “Y/N, Nat and Wanda you take the East, and go as easy as you can, Red.” Steve nudged his chin towards Wanda who nodded. “Just because you can bend reality doesn’t mean you can bend your health. That’s where the main intel storage unit. Get as much as you can and get out. Tony will take the air and wait until Sam joins before blowing everything up. Clint, Bruce and Thor have all checked in, and are already in their positions on the ground as blitz attack. Once F.R.I.D.A.Y has confirmed everyone’s location away from the blast zone Tony will detonate the bombs Sam has set up inside. Got it?”

Affirmative nods came from everyone on board, as they went to do final checks on their gear and equipment.

“Be careful out there, alright?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s neck as she double and triple checked her ammunition count, strapping a sword to her back as well, just in case. Her obsession with Medieval fantasy shows giving her a reason to make Tony pay for her lessons.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Y/N gently patted Bucky’s cheek before giving him a peck on the cheek as he wrapped two strong hands around her waist. “We always are.”

But where typically she was right (most of the time), it was in that instance where she couldn’t be further from the truth if she’d tried.

Despite having Sam on the inside and him having gone through great lengths to make the infiltration as easy as possible, getting inside the building had been suspiciously easy, and that had set off everyone’s alarm bells, but knowing how important gathering the information was, they pressed on, keeping the thought that it could be a trap at the back of their minds at all times.

Thor, Bruce and Clint had started their ground attack two minutes before the rest had joined, with Vision guiding and disabling every system possible from back at the tower, so Tony and F.R.I.D.A.Y could put all of their focus on retaliating against the helacarriers coming their way.

“Cap, we’re in,” Natasha announced, ducking through the door, as Wanda covered her six, and Y/N lead the way in front, bullet shells flying out from her rifle.

Their comms crackled with echoes of gunfire outside as Tony lead them through the place right until they got to the main room where the whole system mainframe resided in.

“Five-minute countdown commenced,” Y/N said it out loud to inform the rest of their team, as she stood behind Wanda, who’d created a red shield of magic, keeping the assault away and them inside the room.

Five minutes until they had to get out of the building because in eight minutes time Tony and Vision, having infiltrated HYDRA’s system would blow everything to bits. If that failed, Wanda was there to provide a safety dome for the three of them, but it was just as a failsafe. Even though she now had full control of her powers, understood them better than ever, taking in a blast that will level a whole ass building was still a lot and there was no guarantee bricks and beams wouldn’t just settle right over them to then fall on top the women, she was still recuperating from a rival witch attack and it had taken out a bit more energy from her than usual.

“How’s it looking over on your end, Vis?” Wanda asked through the comms, connecting back to the rest of the team in the tower.

“The files are coming in, but too slowly,” his smooth voice invaded everyone’s earpieces. “And unfortunately F.R.I.D.A.Y’s mainframe won’t allow for a faster download, as she needs to scan everything for viruses.”

“Should’ve used a flash-drive,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she watched the HYDRA agents line outside the room, creating a two-level firing squad basically.

“Last time we did that, the files corrupted the drive and then erased themselves,” Tony butted in, then groaned as something hard hit him. “And no one needs to hear you complain about losing the six seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine again.”

Y/N just rolled her eyes and steadied her rifle against her shoulder once Nat gave the go-sign. Then something beeped through everyone’s comms. The three-minute countdown before the whole building went down.

“We’re barely at seventy-six percent,” Nat’s tone was calm, but the frustration didn’t go unnoticed by others.

“Plan B then.” Wanda changed her stance a bit, but not by much as to not arouse any suspicion from the agents. If they could be taken out by the blast instead of her it’d be less energy used on her part.

“Are you sure?” Sam finally butted in, having gotten in contact with Bucky who’d given him a comm linked just with their interface. “We can try and delay the blast,” Sam said right as Bucky commanded him to do so.

“No,” Wanda stated. There were already at the two-minute mark. “Get out. We’ll take cover once the files are ours.”

“Y/N,” she heard her lover start, but she just shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Wanda’s right. Just be here to pull us out from the rubble. I have no want to climb through the wreckage.”

A deep, long, exasperated sigh echoed in her ears, and it made her smile. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”

“Love you too, hot stuff.”

A chorus of gags followed shortly after their little display of affection, and even though they were nowhere near one another they rolled their eyes almost at the exact same time, as Vision told Wanda to stay safe.

“You owe me a foot massage, Vis.”

“Gross.” Y/N chuckled.

Wanda just threw her a smirk. “Imagine how we all feel about you and Bucky.”

“Okay, we’re down to sixty seconds!” Tony said, making Y/N nervously glance back at Nat.

The assassin just shook her head. “Eighty-seven percent.”

She gritted her teeth. If the building went out before they got the files they’d be stuck with just what they had. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please speed up a bit, the place is about to get blown to bits.”

“Rerouting the files to a different server,” the A.I. was immediately on it. “Will have to do the scan later.”

“Thirty seconds, guys!” Steve shouted as whoever was still near the base scrambled to get out.

Nat’s head whipped back to the computer screen. “Almost there.”

But the whole thing seemed to have made the HYDRA agents realise something was amiss, yet it was too late for them. As Sam counted off the last five seconds, Natasha rushed to the other two women, grabbing them by their waists and crouching down while Wanda created a red dome of magic, explosions shaking the whole house.

For a second the rumbling felt more like someone shaking you awake from a deep sleep until the walls of the room exploded, raining fire, brick and metal down on them.

That would’ve been fine if not for the fact that the floor underneath them decided to disappear as well, an array of curses coming from their mouths as Wanda immediately rounded out the shield while the rest of their teammates kept nagging them to respond.

“Y/N, I swear to everything you hold dear, I will kill you myself if you die,” Bucky pretty much screamed, while she groaned as the sudden shift in balance had made her hit herself in the ribs with the rifle.

She gritted her teeth, as Wanda used more of her powers to stabilise them. “We’re fine,” she responded. “No need to bring in the cavalry yet.”

A deep sigh from what seemed like everyone echoed in her earpiece, and when Wanda was sure there’d be no second shockwaves from the blast or no debris that could fall right on top of them where she’d need to take her focus away, she flew the three women out of the ruined building and onto the grassy knoll where the team stood waiting.

Bucky was instantly next to Y/N, pulling her into his body and her lips against his once Wanda released her from the energy bubble.

“God, you’re disgusting,” Sam mumbled, and it was followed by a small yelp when someone hit him in the side.

Y/N threw him a mischievous grin when she pulled away. “Don’t be a Bitter Betty. The offer to set you up still stands.”

Sam cackled, as everyone had now regrouped and together were marching away to where the jet sat disguised between the trees. “Hard pass. You’re a worse matchmaker than Steve.”

“Hey! Amelia was an amazing girl.”

“She is except for the fact that she’s not interested in men.”

�� Steve’s cheeks reddened up a bit, as Tony gave him a sympathetic pat. “ ‘S not my business to ask what people’s sexuality is. And blame yourself. You’re the one who’s called Sam.”

“Oh, don’t you even –“ but his words were cut off midway as gunfire rained down on them from the sky.

Instantly Wanda threw up a shield once more, Bucky going to cover Y/N with his body, but HYDRA opening fire from the top had left their sides unprotected, and a well-aimed shot from a bazooka ripped everyone apart.

The blast was minimised thanks to Wanda and her quickly directing a part of her magic to contain it, but the missile still threw them away.

Y/N’s head was ringing, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the loud noise of the blast, because of her having hit her head against a tree trunk, or because of all the screams from her teammates, yet she had zero time to recuperate as an agent rushed towards her, knives ready for a kill.

The first one embedded itself inside the tree, and barely not inside her head, as she moved to the side in the last minute, but a small sting still crept along the side of her head where he’d managed to split the skin.

She was up and rolling away, grabbing one of her own knives from the side of her leg, finally unsheathing her sword. There was no time to put more clips in her guns.

The first agent was quick work for Y/N, I mean he only three more knives left, and he’d been one of the unlucky ones to stand next to the building when it went off, so the shrapnel had ripped a piece of his Kevlar open giving her the perfect place to put her sword in, but the next ten were not as easy.

She was worn out, tired from having experienced two explosions and some of the agents were new backup, which meant they had more strength and energy, but she wasn’t going to let them get the best of her.

At the back of her mind, Y/N heard everyone chiming in as to where they were, how many people were after them if they needed backup, but mostly Y/N heard Bucky’s calls that he was coming to get her, even though she hadn’t requested help, she was too busy dodging bullets and knives to even respond.

She was human, she needed help, she wanted help, but then something odd occurred to her – most, from what she’d heard through the comms, were fighting maybe four to five people at a time, with the exception of Wanda, Tony, Thor and Hulk who had tanks and cars going after them, while Y/N had a group of twenty to twenty-five people to manage.

It was an ambush, it dawned on her.

She wanted to scream at herself ‘No shit, the whole thing is an ambush’, but it was an ambush of Y/N specifically, which was odd given how she was pretty much one of the few who had no direct ties to HYDRA, but that one moment of confusion was enough for someone to land a slice to the side where her own suit had a hole in it.

“Oh, we don’t want you,” a voice went through her comms that she didn’t recognise. It was muffled as if someone was whispering through someone else’s mic. “But we’ll hurt you more than ever.”

An unsettling quiet settled around before she clearly recognised Bucky breathing out a ‘no’ and then a panicked ‘Y/N!’ rip through his throat. Her head whipped to see one of the most frightening sights of her life that will forever be ingrained in her mind.

Bucky was laying on the ground, completely paralysed without the ability to even flex a muscle, blue eyes turned towards her in terror and helplessness as he watched while nine more agents stormed towards her.

She was capable, of course. He’d even experienced how capable the girl was on his own skin, and it had left his super-soldier skin bruised and battered for a few days. But right now, she was tired, she had zero ammo left, all of her knives were embedded in the heads or chests of other assailants and somewhere along the way her sword had snapped in half, leaving her with a jagged piece of steel, which was also protruding out from someone’s chest. Y/N had nothing, but her punches and kicks left. And even she knew there was no way she’d last long enough to get back to the jet in one piece.

So, gathering whatever strength remained in her body, Y/N retaliated on last time. She heard people shouting that they were coming for her, and for a moment she truly believed so when a red ball of magic hit a group of seven agents knocking them down, but when Y/N’s eyes flitted to where it’d come from, she saw the agents subdue Wanda, as they'd somehow managed to put an electroshock collar around her neck. She fell to her knees gasping in pain.

All of it, Y/N realised, every single thing that had happened had been a distraction. They’d split them apart, and the Avengers had most likely helped HYDRA accomplish their goal when the bomb went off.

For a moment she wondered why’d they’d want to take her, why not take their ‘weapons’ back, but just as quickly came the realisation of their words.

Someone grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her down.

Y/N saw stars behind her eyelids, and her teeth clanked together. She was lucky her tongue hadn’t been between them.

Bucky screamed as if someone was ripping his heart from his chest.

A gun hit her on the head.

And then everything went black.

***

Bucky was going insane. He’d trade having his brain being put through the meatgrinder for seventy years once again if that meant Y/N was back with him, but the empty space in his bed, the unused shampoo and conditioner bottles, the dirty cup in the sink told him otherwise. She was gone, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

For two weeks he was basically a zombie, barely eating and functioning, spending most of his time by the interrogation room’s computer, following up on dead-end leads and any breadcrumb he could find, yet every single time he thought he’d gotten something as if life was mocking him, it turned into dust, just like his hope slowly was.

There was pretty much no one else but him, Sam and Wanda left in the tower, as the rest had split off into teams to go and search every left-over HYDRA base in the world. The only reason he wasn’t out there was because Steve had benched him.

“You’re compromised,” he’d said. Bucky couldn’t say he wasn’t.

Sam had stayed behind because during his last raid he’d gotten hit by some gas, rendering him pretty much useless for half a week, and no one felt comfortable enough to ask him to put his life on the line before a full recovery.

And Wanda… well, Wanda wasn’t taking the whole thing too great either, but she was still functioning, so she was just waiting for the jet to come in and fly her out to Serbia with Vision for a potential lead on Y/N.

Defeated for the night, he grabbed the coffee cup that once had been filled and trudged his way to the kitchen area. God, fucking hell, how much did it hurt to even breathe.

Just as he was about to pour himself another cup of the burning black liquid, all of his senses went haywire, and he spun around to look at the hallway of the living room. He instantly recognised the shadow standing in the middle of it, how the shape curved and sloped in such a familiar way. How could he not, when that shadow belonged to the woman, he intended to spend the rest of his life with, when his hands had memorised each and every way she was formed.

“Dollface?” his voice cracked at the end, but when she entered the light, instead of warmth filling his heart at the relief of her being back, ice-cold fear rushed through him at the sight of the black muzzle across her nose and mouth, not to even mention the HYDRA symbol in the middle of the chest of her tactical suit.

The first shot rang out right after he blinked, giving him barely enough time to dodge it, but Y/N was already on the move rushing towards him and kicking her leg out so that her knee would connect with Bucky’s chin.

A sickening crunch echoed through the room, as his head met the marble floor, bright lights flashing behind his eyes. He could even feel his teeth vibrate from the impact. It was this second which he used to somewhat regain a sense of place, that Y/N used to straddle him down, hand going behind her back to pull out a gun, but Bucky knew her. He knew her moves and how she left her left side open.

When his forehead connected to Y/N’s nose, he almost vomited at the feeling of bone-crunching against his skin, but it gave him enough time to deliver a blow to her side, disarming her before grabbing her bicep and pulling her arm behind her back, his own metal appendage wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against him.

“Come on, sweetheart!” he was pleading, but his grip unyielding to her struggles. “Fight this. I know you can.”

But to his horror, HYDRA had dug their nails into her mind deeper than he ever thought was possible, as she smashed the back of her head against his nose once more, red blood spilling everywhere.

He staggered back, palm cradling his face, but he still had one free to block the fist that was coming in his direction. This caught her off guard for a millisecond, but not long enough for Bucky to do anything, as she smashed her foot against his knee, bringing him down, yet he’d expected it, using the position to his advantage and grabbing Y/N behind the legs, yanking her towards him, and making her back hit hard against the floor, dizzying and knocking the air out of the woman.

It took him three seconds to slide over to the gun she’d discarded and to stand up, and it took three seconds for her to flip herself up and aim the gun that’d still been strapped to her thigh.

Both of them were shaking, but both for different reasons. Bucky was shaking because he was making the love of his life look down the barrel of a gun, while she was shaking because the only thought on her mind was about if she didn’t finish the mission, the consequences would be more horrible than anything HYDRA had done to her before.

“I don’t want to hurt you! Please snap out of it!” he hollered but didn’t lower his weapon. It went against all of his instincts to be in that position, even when the two sparred, Bucky, to Y/N’s annoyance who was hoping for a real fight, pulled his punches. It was unnatural for him to even consider harming her.

She cocked her gun, didn’t even hesitate.

“Sorry, can’t do that. You’re my mission.”

Bucky took in one last breath.

It hitched in his throat.

He blinked away the tears pooling at his bottom lashes.

He’d never pull the trigger.

She steadied her aim.

Bucky closed his eyes.

But the bullet never came. At least not for him.

The yelp of pain made him open his eyes just to see Y/N’s body jerk to the side and drop to her knee, hand clutching at her shoulder, with Sam behind her, his own gun aimed at her with a little stream of smoke coming out of the barrel.

Yet the second her shock passed Y/N swiftly turned to Sam, gun in her usable palm when her body seized up, and she fell to the ground unconscious.

Bucky was panting, as he looked to see Redwing, two blue lights on each side dying out, as it deactivated the tasers. It took him a second to realize what had happened, but then he was by Y/N’s side, pulling her body up to cradle against his own.

“What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky yelled, hovering his left hand over Y/N’s mouth. When the metal fogged over, his whole frame literally shuddered in relief, as he went on to the next job – stopping the bleeding before her breathing stopped.

“She was gonna put a bullet between your eyes!”

“You didn’t have to shoot her!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam mocked, dropping to his knees and shredding apart a kitchen towel to press against the wound. “Would you have rather had your brains splattered against the floor?”

“You had Redwing taser her! That was enough!”

“If I hadn’t shot her, Redwing wouldn’t have been able to taser her.”

He hated the fact wounding Y/N had been a necessary step in subduing her. No, Bucky told himself, not her. Not his Y/N, but whoever HYDRA had placed in her mind.

As gently as possible, he scooped up her body and with Sam in tow made his way to the med bay.

F.R.I.D.A.Y had alerted the medical staff of the situation, so they were ready when Bucky came in. Instantly two nurses took his girl from his arms and laid her down on a gurney, Helen Cho stepping up with surgical gloves.

“A through and through in the shoulder,” she remarked more for the medical records than anyone else. “She’ll have a few painful weeks of recovery, but nothing fatal.”

Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still, he didn’t let anyone touch Y/N without him being beside her. As Helen patched up her shoulder and strapped her down on the cell bed, he was still there beside her, both hands clutching onto her palm, not moving an inch away.

A little while after Helen had left, he felt a presence hovering behind him, and Sam stepped into the room, leaning against the wall, brown eyes looking over Y/N.

“How is she?”

Bucky sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. They were cracked and on the verge of bleeding despite the regenerative cream, Dr Cho had applied. “Asleep,” he mumbled. “So that’s better, I guess. Gives her time to heal.”

He heard Sam shuffle around a bit, and then he entered Bucky’s peripheral as he sat down on a chair next to the bed.“It took them thirty years to break you, yet it took them two weeks to break her…” Sam said biting on his lip, and the statement made anger course through Bucky’s veins.

“Are you seriously calling her fucking weak?” He snapped looking at his fellow Avenger. “You have no idea what kind of torture they pu-“

“I’m not calling her weak,” Sam interrupted. “Y/N is one of the strongest people out there. What I’m saying is – back then it took them years to break a person… now it took them barely fourteen days… what else have they ‘improved’ on?”

The thought of Y/N having her mind ripped apart and then put back together as if she was some ragdoll made bile rise in Bucky’s throat, and it didn’t settle when he thought of how far that horrid machine had come since he’d been in one.

But as much as Bucky wanted revenge, as much as he wanted to destroy HYDRA, to make sure what happened to Y/N never happens again to anyone else, let alone if what Sam implied was true, he couldn’t leave her, not when she would need a familiar face the most.

He gulped, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her hand to steady himself. Just the thought of her in all that pain made him go to the edge of breaking apart. “She’s gonna be alright, isn’t she?” If there was one thing Bucky appreciated from Sam it was his honesty.

“In the long run most likely. You’d be the proof of that…” Sam sighed. “But first, we gotta make sure she doesn’t shut people out.”

But that was most definitely easier said than done, given how the second Y/N woke up, which was about a day later after being knocked-out cold when she realised what had happened, it was not like a wall had magically appeared between her and anyone from the team, but a fucking fortress surrounded by an impenetrable mountainous barrier, and she was the only citizen in that mind castle. And Bucky was the first one behind the door.

It broke his heart to see Y/N pretty much shut down. She refused to eat, barely drank the water provided, and couldn’t sleep one bit, yet what hurt most was she absolutely rejected even the thought of going back to their shared room, and instead stayed in her barren cell, white walls, with a thin blanket and a paper-like pillow. It got so bad they had to put her on an IV drip so she wouldn’t waste away. But it didn’t matter to her. She was like a ragdoll.

It was about five days later when she said her first words. Y/N had her head in her hands, matted Y/H/C strands spilling between her fingers, as her nails dug deeper into her skull. That’s the position she’d been sitting in for the past five hours, not even bothering to lift her eyes as a paper plate with a meal, a single plastic spoon next to it and a paper cup of water was slid through the opening at the bottom of her cell door. She wasn’t hungry anyway. In fact, what she really wanted was to disappear from the surface of the earth, for the ground to open and be swallowed by molten lava or have a sharknado crash in and get eaten by a great white.

“How’re you feeling?” Sam asked arms crossed as he leaned against the entrance to the door. He’d been asking that since the first time she opened her eyes, but never received a response, so when the scoff she let out was almost inaudible, but he still picked up on it, he straightened out. “Just peachy,” Y/N mumbled. “Absolutely fantastic. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

“Y/N…”

He really didn’t have anything to say. I mean what could you possibly say… but he had to at least try, given how miserable Bucky was. He’d heard him sob so loud through two closed doors and a running shower, that he had to do something.

Sam swallowed hard before entering the room and cautiously, keeping as much space as possible between the two, sat down next to Y/N. He wasn’t afraid of her. He could never be. But he knew she needed to let him closer on her own terms. “You can’t keep going like this. You can’t keep everything in. If you don’t wanna talk to the shrink, it’s fine, but at least talk to someone else…”

“I am talking to you.”

“Yes, but you know who I mean.”

“How am I supposed to even look at him?” Her head shot up, and tears threatened to spill down her face. “How am I supposed to talk to him? To touch him, knowing I almost killed him.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it was!” The words were a hiss. “It was me. I understood everything I was doing, I knew who he was, I knew what we were to one another, yet…” she choked in the middle of the sentence, not wanting to say the truth. “I wasn’t going to hesitate. I was going to kill him. If you hadn’t gotten involved, one more second and Bucky would’ve been dead. Because of me.”

“HYDRA messed with your brain,” Sam stated. “I know that everyone knows that and Bucky most of all. Why do you think he couldn’t pull the trigger?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“No, because he’s been in the exact same situation.”

She bit her lip. All her brain was doing was screaming that Sam was right, to listen to him, he knew what he was talking about, but the guilt, the absolutely corrosive horror at herself for what she was going to do wouldn’t let common sense come through. “I just.” Y/N choked and then cleared her throat. “Just tell him I don’t want to see him. I – I can’t see him.”

Sam did know heartbreak. He’d felt it when his first girlfriend had broken up with him, he’d felt it in the army when his friends lost limbs and lives, and now he felt it looking at two of the people he’d grown closest to struggle to find one another and themselves.

He cleared his throat standing up and wiping hind palms down his thighs. “Wanda is also – “

But Y/N didn’t let him finish the sentence. “No.” She shook her head. “No one. Please.” She tucked her face against her knees. “I just wanna be alone.”

And so he left her alone. In fact, everyone did so.

For a whole month, the usually lively tower was a glass structure of sombre and pain. Everyone was hurting. Wanda had retreated to her room, sitcoms on the rerun, Vision always by her side as she tried to manage the sadness of one of her dearest friends going through such a tough time and the guilt of not being able to help Y/N, to save her from that pain. Nat and Clint along with Tony had locked themselves in one of the lower levels of the tower analysing the data she’d gathered. They needed to occupy themselves with something, otherwise, they’d be overcome by their own thoughts and they were too dark to manage at that moment. Bruce and Thor had relegated themselves to the lab doing experiment after experiment, trying to find out how HYDRA had managed to do such damage to Y/N.

Steve, however… Steve was doing quite bad. He felt probably the most amount of guilt than the rest of his teammates. He’d taken up the role of the leader, he was supposed to make sure everyone stayed safe. Yes, they were the most skilled people in the world, but they trusted him to make the best calls. And him not having taken into account a blitz attack from HYDRA after their blitz attack had broken two of his friends because Bucky was doing just as bad as Y/N, if not even worse.

He wouldn’t sleep, he couldn’t; Steve heard his cries each night until, at twelve of one AM, they’d cease, and he’d make his way to the cells. Steve had told Y/N a week after she’d been brought back that there was no reason for her to stay in there. She’d just sat on the bed, arms around her knees and staring at the wall. She didn’t go back to her room.

But each night Bucky would sit by the glass doors and look at the frame of the love of his life, curled underneath a white duvet, a single pillow underneath her head (Y/N loved pillows, she couldn’t sleep without at least four of them) body in a foetal position. She looked so broken. She was. And because of that, so was he.

It was about three AM at night, when his routine was shaken up by none other than Y/N. Typically she’d sleep through the night not even stirring, slipping into the cot at nine PM and then waking up at six AM when Helen came in to switch her IV. She was eating now, but still too little for it to be enough.

However, that night she was stirred awake by the feeling of someone watching her, not the camera that was always on but by human eyes.

That was the first time she’d seen Bucky since having woken up and regaining control of her body.

Her breath hitched when their eyes met, and his whole body straightened out. Y/N remained under the covers, while Bucky sat by the doors still. His palm pressed against the glass.

“Hi, doll.”

Two words, but that was enough for the dam to break. Tears spilt down her face, and without a second to spare Bucky had rushed inside and laid down next to her, strong arms weaving around her shaking body, as his own pain merged with hers.

All Y/N could manage to say was ‘I’m so sorry,' and it became a mantra she repeated in Bucky’s chest, hoping that somehow the words would find their way and settle beneath his skin so he could understand with his whole being how much she meant them.

“Please.” He was close to sobbing by that point, hand moving to cup her cheek. “Please let me help.”

“I can’t, Bucky! I can’t!” Y/N was close to complete hysterics by this point. “Every time I even think about you, I remember the emptiness, the absolute numbness that was in me, when I pointed a gun at your face, and I meant to kill you! I was going to pull the trigger, if not for Sam… So,” she gulped looking down at the ground, at their feet. “Tell me how the hell am I supposed to let you anywhere near me when I’m terrified of myself.”

The grip he had on her face, was tight, strong and sure. “Because it wasn’t you. I know what it’s like to have your brain scrambled around and rearranged with false truths and present them as real… but the thing is – they’re not. And you taught me that. You were the one who made me realise it, dollface. Now let me do the same for you.”

“I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because every time I do, I see that – that monster staring back at me.”

“Reflections are deceiving,” Bucky whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “Mirrors can’t and will never show the truth. It’s a twisted, flipped and made-up version of us, and we can’t allow ourselves to believe it. It’s not us.”

And despite the pain, despite the guilt and anxiousness, Y/N chuckled, letting out a small sound of happiness for the first time in a while. “When did you get so wise, Gandalf?”

She could feel the relief that flooded Bucky’s body slowly seep into her own. “Well, re-reading ‘The Hobbit’ helped… but more so you. You taught me that. You made me realise the man that haunts my nightmares might have my face, but it’s not me. He’s not me and I’m not him.”

“Will you…” Her voice shook as she said the words as if there was a possibility, he could say no. “Will you help me?”

“You never, ever have to ask for help. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need, I’m always here. I’m so sorry, so sorry you had to go through that.”

And for the first time in six weeks did Bucky get to hug Y/N. Feeling her body melt into his almost made him have a breakdown of his own, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and grabbed onto him like her life depended on the tightness of her grip.

Six weeks, almost two months without Y/N in every imaginable way had almost broken Bucky to a point of no return. Had they gone longer periods of time without seeing one another? Sure, but this was different. When the person you love is right there, but more unreachable than when they’re thousands of miles away, that’s a different kind of pain.

She didn’t release her grip form him, as Bucky shifted and sat up, her legs moving to lace around his waist on instinct. With one hand underneath her thighs the other going to take off the IV bag from the stand, he stood up and moved through the tower, finally retreating to his room, where he took off a photo frame from the wall and hung up the medical supply while gently laying Y/N down between his sheets.

She’d been in that position many times before in different states of undress, in different emotional states as well, but not once had she been alone there. And neither would she be alone now.

It was the first night Bucky slept without waking up, and when he did Y/N’s head was resting on his chest. He held her a bit tighter then.

***

The road to recovery was slow.

It started with her spending her days and nights in Bucky’s room, no longer isolating herself from him. It turned to late-night talks where they just chatted about miscellaneous things, and if she felt comfortable enough, then about every heavy thing pressing on her heart. Then she ventured off to her own room, and once evening slipped inside the room of who was her neighbour. She slept next to Wanda that night.

The next night, she and Wanda sneaked inside Nat’s bedroom, and just hung out a bit, painting their nails. When Y/N went to sleep next to Bucky, she felt as light as the light-yellow colour adorning her fingers.

On the morning of the eleventh day of her recovery, she woke up earlier and made everyone breakfast, putting some extra chocolate chips in Sam’s pancakes. He deserved it for all the trouble he’d gone through. The smile on his lips and the kiss on her head from him meant more than any thank you he could say.

But it was about a month down the line, after evenings where she’d joined in on the movie nights and had discussed the gathered intelligence from other missions as well as the tactics agents should employ when Y/N took her biggest step yet.

Bucky was laying on his bed ‘The Two Towers’ between his fingers, the metal appendage flipping the pages as gently as if they were made from butterfly wings, when Y/N came out of the bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto her nightshirt. Well, it was actually one of Bucky’s shirts, but at this point, every piece of clothing he owned belonged to her as well. Besides, in his humble opinion, she wore them better than he ever could.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?” he hummed, flipping to another page.

“Buck I – “ she took in a breath. “I want to have sex.”

“What? Ow!” The book had slipped from his hands and the edge hit his eyebrow, making Y/N hiss, and instantly come over to try and soothe the hurt part.

“I mean – “ Bucky stuttered much like his heart. “I’d love to. Gosh, dollface, you know I’d do anything you ever wanted me. Tell me to spend forever between your legs, and I will, but… Please don’t feel like we have to. You’re still healing, and –“

“I want to,” Y/N was quick to quench his doubt, running a gentle finger over his brow. “I do. I – I need to feel you. I need to feel… I need to feel whole, and I haven’t in so long.”

His hand cupped her cheek. “You are whole. You don’t need me to complete you. You don’t need anyone to complete you.”

“I –“ She huffed, struggling to form the thought running through her brain into words. “I – I know that. At least I think so. But… but there is this part inside me, I can’t seem to heal myself, this crack that no matter how hard I try to mend just won’t do. And that’s because that part can only be filled by love. And yours is the strongest one I have in my life.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh, doll…”

Her legs slowly shifted so they were straddling him as Bucky leaned up in a sitting position, palms dropping to her hips and sliding underneath her PJs to touch the soft skin of her back.

His nose skimmed against hers, and Y/N sighed at the feeling. She’d slept like that – nose to nose curled up next to Bucky – for close to a month and a half now, but the anticipation of the kiss turned her into a bundle of nerves.

“One word,” he breathed against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone before looking deeply into her eyes. “One word and we stop.”

And even though she wanted to say there was no doubt in her mind about doing it, she nodded. He needed the reassurance just as much as she did that if something happened, he’d be there for her.

When Bucky’s lips met hers, it was just like the first kiss they’d shared. A bit tentative, unsure, yet filled with so much restrained passion and pure love it was overwhelming, and Y/N’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Darling, let’s just not do this,” Bucky said noticing the clear pearls dripping down her cheeks, but she shook her head.

“I just missed you so much. I missed letting you love me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing people don’t need permission to love. I never stopped. I can’t imagine ever not loving you.”

His mouth was on hers once again. Bucky let Y/N lead the whole time. He didn’t deny himself from exploring her body, from feeling every crook, dip, and crevice of her form, but she was always in control.

When her shirt dropped to the floor, she was the one who started lifting it up.

When she laid down to pull Bucky on top, she was the one who flipped them over and pulled him on top.

Her hands skimmed the band of his boxers, and Bucky unconsciously ground against Y/N’s clothed core at the feeling, both letting out moans of relief at the friction.

“Can you take ‘em off?” she breathed, as Bucky left beautiful marks on her neck and chest so they could bloom through the night and could be greeted by them in the morning.

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Please.”

They did it together. Y/N linked her fingers behind the fabric and pulled it down his legs while he shimmied out from the boxers and kicked it to the floor.

“Can I take yours off?”

As sure as she was about everything that was going on, there was still some hesitancy in her body, and he immediately sensed it, pulling a little bit away. “Y/N…”

When her hands went to wrap around his wrists where they rested against her hips, horror washed over Bucky like a cold shower. “Did they…?”

“No!” Y/N was immediate to answer. “No, they didn’t… but… they said after they were done with me after they turned me into their puppet… after they’d make me hurt you, you’d never want to touch me. That, in your last moments, you’d only have hate in your heart for me, and I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

He gently put a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head. “Even when I was staring down that barrel, all I could think about was how much I love you. How I’d give my life for you even if you were the one taking it. I could never hate you.”

A violent sob ripped through her chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world, and I’ll try to give as much of it to you as I can.”

She couldn’t take much more of his confessions because Y/N’s chest was already as full as it could be of love, so instead, she pulled Bucky back down for a passion-filled kiss, while shimmying out from her own underwear.

“Condom?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “Not this time. Need to feel you as you are.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Helen put me back on the pill about a month ago.”

Bucky shuddered, nodding. “Alright. Okay. But I need to make sure I don’t hurt you first.”

Y/N was about to say he could never hurt her, when two of his fingers slipped along her folds, cutting her words off in favour of the groan of pleasure.

“Gotta take care of my girl the right way.”

A moan seeped into Bucky’s skin when he pushed a cold metal digit into her tight entrance. His arm had the added feature to feel things if he wanted or switch it off when he didn’t want to, which was a nice thing, especially during missions (he’d forgotten to do so one time and when a bullet bounced off, it wasn’t like a bee bumping against glass, hot pain had rippled through his whole arm, so it was a good idea on Shuri’s part), but this time it was on, and the absolutely exquisite pressure and warmth that squeezed around his digits was enough to make him grind against the mattress to alleviate his own growing pressure.

“Bucky, please,” Y/N practically mewled, eyes screwed shut, nails digging into his skin, making him groan in pleasure. He’d forgotten how delicious the sounds were and how close to the edge just the feeling of her nails marking half-moons into his back could bring him.

“Fuck,” he swore leaning up to kiss her once more, while he increased the speed of which his fingers were going in and out of her, while his thumb rubbed circles around her clit, and when he hotly breathed against her neck to ‘soak him all down to his elbows’ Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she arched up from the bed as an orgasm shattered her world.

Gently he coaxed her through the orgasm while muttering praises against her mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky sighed leaning to rest on his elbows. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Y/N smiled, stroking his cheek. “You’re beautiful too, Bucky. More than you’ll ever know or will let yourself believe me.”

The crooked smirk which he threw her reminded the one from Steve’s tales of him and his skirt-chasing days. “Guess you’ll have to convince me.”

“With pleasure.”

Her hand snaked down to where he’d been running the tip of his cock between her folds, before gently pressing him down so he could easily slide inside. When he was sheeted a moan of satisfaction came from both of them.

It was like homecoming. Like curling up in a warm bed on a cold winter’s night. It was just right.

“God, I could stay like this forever.” Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

“We have forever and then some.”

A look she could not figure out crossed his face. It was like absolute joy mixed with fear and terror. “You promise?”

Y/N kissed him, trying to pour all of her love into the single act. “With everything I have in me.”

He took that as the cue that he could move and experimentally rolled his hips towards hers. Bit by bit he picked up the pace, breaths turning into pants broken up by moans, sweat beading along his skin, a small burn appearing in his knees, but even that discomfort couldn’t overshadow the heavenly pleasure rippling through his veins.

She’d always been the epitome of beauty and love, that’s how completely Bucky had fallen for her, and he could only hope he was the same for her.

“Bucky,” she choked out. “So close.”

“Yeah?” His vision was starting to go white at the edges.

“Mhm – ohh!” The confirmation turned into a squeal when he hit just that right spot, he concentrated all his thrusts to match it, and soon enough both of them were falling over the edge, clinging onto the other as if they were the last lifeline that existed for them.

“Hey,” Bucky cooed, opening his eyes and seeing how furrowed Y/N’s brow was, how hard she was fighting to resurface. “Come back to me. Come back, doll.”

Slowly, Y/N’s breathing evened out, her trembling became small shudders from the aftershock of the pleasure, and her lids fluttered, gaze meeting his.

She’d come back.

She’d always come back to her home.

To Bucky.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Bucky tag list: @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @raquelbc2003 @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea @california-grown @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @belongsto-prachi @hello-i-am-insane @its-nott-my-problem @emmalbg @hopeinahotbox

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae

A/N: My Bucky boiiiii! I’m back! hope y’all like this rollercoaster :)

P.S. if you see yourself on my tag list and you’re crossed out means the tag didn’t work. if you still wanna be on the tag list please message me your new url and what was your old one so I can change it (if it’s not the change of the url then I genuinely dunno what could be the problem)

P.S.S. my tags are always open.

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms without specific written permission and don’t plagiarise them

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groggydog · 2 years ago

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IF Comp Reviews Part 2

(Continued from Part 1, my micro-reviews of games I've played in IF Comp 2022.)

Glimmer by Katie Benson

I find it difficult to review games that are so obviously either personal re-tellings or blatantly about mental health. Of course there are mechanics and form to criticize, but how can I criticize a person's (potentially) lived experience?

I'm lucky in that I merely have a generalized anxiety disorder. I've never been diagnosed with depression. But I have had depressive holes consume me for small periods of time, and so I resonate with the direction this piece takes.

"The spiral is so powerful," the game says. And I know that feeling well. The game's tagline says "It's bleak out there," and I agree. Emotionally, this pieces conveys a very clear message that I understand and sympathize with. At its core, the game works.

In terms of formatting, the mid-sentence clickable words were a nice added touch, but because of the way they altered or added onto sentences, it felt jarring. Structurally I think it would make more sense if there was a way to differentiate the new text, or have it add on to the end.

But the simplicity of the rest of it is almost certainly part of the point, and I have no problem with the general lack of aesthetic.

There seems to be one essential path with only the slightest of deviations to the text depending on your choices. And I think that that's the "Glimmer" of the game's title. It's nice to think of a world where it doesn't matter what you choose - there's always someone there for you, anyway.

And I appreciate that, in IF at least, there is space for small games about big feelings.

Elvish for Goodbye by David Gurcay-Morris

While a good title is certainly not a pre-requisite for a good game, I have to say this title quickly caught my attention. It's fantastical and moody in just three words.

Aesthetically, I found the grey text hard to read on both the black and white themes. I wish it had been a bit clearer, and that the bright goldenrod of the choice text had been a bit subdued. Nitpicky as always, but I have bad eyes and there was a lot reading to be done.

This game has an immediate tenor that just screams bohemia in both good and bad ways. I think it captures that spirit quite well. Folklorika Teahouse and Vegetarian Satay Lounge, for instance, is a fantastic name for an establishment, and the game's various settings felt tonally appropriate. But there were many other places where I wish the text had just been edited down a bit more before release. There are the occasional odd turns of phrase which may be down to any number of totally reasonable factors ("I achieved my current height during my twelfth year" being one that I remembered) that normally wouldn't bother me, but this piece seems to set out to be very lyrical and poetic, and so these things count. (As an aside, the author's use of the word "logograms" makes me wonder if they, too, have recently read Ken Liu's fantastic Dandelion Dynasty series.)

Here is what I think this game is: a genuinely wonderful achievement in world-building, especially with regards to how language conveys meaning. The author has clear intelligence and wit, and the text of the story felt unlike the vast majority of "fantasy" IF that I've experienced recently. On that merit alone I think the game is worth spending time with. I believe the author delivered on the promised premise.

However, I frequently felt that the language of the game got in the way. It just felt a bit like it was being too smart for its own good, or perhaps trying too hard to sound smart. I found it funny that, as I went on, I was able to respond in ways like rolling my eyes, or suppressing a yawn. Because the shame of all of that is that I think it is a really smart game in a lot of unique ways, and it didn't need to use such florid language to convey that. With perhaps a bit more self-editing or another trained eye, I think it could have achieved that delicate tightrope walk a bit better.

Use Your Psychic Powers at Applebee's by Geoffrey Golden

What a wild swing I've taken in reviewing these three games. This final entry is a brief, quirky, choice-based game that had me genuinely laughing more often than not. (The first laugh I got was my second mind-reading session, where a boy is earnestly weighing the pros and cons of the Kool-Aid Man taking on Garfield.)

There's something about the premise of the story that was just absurd enough to draw me in, and I think it delivered wonderfully on the mundanity and trite nonsense of a future where mind-reading is possible and it's used solely to promote Schtupmeister.

Interactive fiction comes in all shapes in sizes, and I'm glad that bite-sized games with high replayability value like this exist.

Now please excuse me while I grab a cold Schtup and watch Turbonator take on Skullcrush in Duncanville.

#if comp #groggy reviews #interactive fiction #text adventures #twine #parser

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guzhuangheaven · 4 years ago

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As much as I am enjoying My Heroic Husband, despite the fact that it’s genuinely laugh out loud funny and the characters are endearing, I do kind of want to nitpick it a bit (a lot). The drama spends a lot of time telling you about how Tan’er is the best candidate to be the seal holder and the boss of the family business. And certainly compared to her cousin she is better because she does have integrity and dedication to the business. But the problem is that it’s episode 16 now, and the drama has yet to actually show much (any) of her ability.

All the clever business things that had happened so far in the drama has been Ning Yi’s idea. In fact, in the very second episode, where Tan’er’s warehouse flooded ruining all her inventory of fabrics, she came up with absolutely zero idea to save the opening day of her shop except to postpone the opening. In the end Ning Yi stepped in the save the day. I’m not saying that Tan’er is incompetent, because in that situation, there was very little that could be done other than postpone the opening. Ning Yi only saved the day because he has the advantage of knowledge taken from modern time and set up a gameshow to trick customers into buying fabric that did not yet exist and getting them to pay up front then pick up the product later.

The thing is, this solution that Ning Yi came up with – along with practically all the other business models he wowed people with later like franchising, door to door shipping and customer reward cards – can only really work in our modern mass consumerism market. (Like I get that century egg is this novel thing in this world but no one needs that much century egg that it can be turned into a massive franchise a la McDonalds or Starbucks.) The drama handwaves this and assumes these sales models would work in a feudal, labour intensive world. And this makes for a genuinely funny drama because we are supposed to be aware that everything is anachronistic and unrealistic.

I get that this drama is really Ning Yi’s drama, and it’s supposed to be playing up the fact that Ning Yi has the mind and memories of a modern business man who is used to running billion dollar corporations. So the focus on Ning Yi’s business schemes is not necessarily the problem. The problem is that this set up gives Tan’er nothing to do. At this point, Ning Yi is pretty much the one doing all the business and Tan’er is just the symbolic boss walking around nodding at everybody. Yes there are hints that Ning Yi does discuss things with her and clue her in to things, but we don’t get enough of that to really be convinced that this is still Tan’er business that she is supposed to be running and is responsible for. Tan’er shows up when it’s necessary to be the face of the business, but really it’s Ning Yi pulling all the strings.

And this really sums up the problem (maybe problem is too strong a word, but certainly the weakness) in the way this drama is attempting to subvert gender roles. In fact, it’s a weakness in all cdramas I have watched so far that try to do this, The Romance of Tiger and Rose included. These dramas take a very second wave feminist approach and posits that women’s assigned reproductive roles suck and women being confined to the private sphere suck, so gender equality means that women should break out of those roles and into the public sphere and do what men do. Equality, therefore, means women should be like men and do things like men. Which is all well and good when you say that this means that women like Tan’er should be able to head the family business.

What this approach IRL usually overlooks is the fact that reproductive duties in the private sphere DO exist regardless of what women do in the public sphere, and usually women end up being tasked with the reproductive work in the private sphere anyway. This is what leads to women’s multiple labour and triple burden. To be fair, My Heroic Husband does attempt to address this by having the men at the husband school (whatever it’s called in English, I’m not watching is drama with Eng sub so have no idea…) learn things like to cook and sew and take care of children. But this attempt to challenge gender roles is undermined by the fact that 1) these husbands are still established as the minority and this is still assumed to be a patriarchal society and 2) therefore the society in My Heroic Husband still look down on these husbands who live with their wives’ family and learn/do these traditionally feminine tasks. Basically only men who are weak whatever that means/too poor/too pathetic/have no other option force themselves/choose to put themselves into this role. Moreover, Ning Yi is celebrated among the men at the husband school and in the drama in general not because he successfully embraces his reversed gender role and stays home and take care of the house/kids while Tan’er owns a business, but because he…takes over the running of the business himself so that his wife can be a token female boss???

This tokenism is very much the predictable result when the traditional constructs of “men good women bad” and the power relations between men and women are not challenged. Just because you flip the roles doesn’t mean you are challenging the power relations. This simply flipping is what The Romance of Tiger and Rose tried to do as well, and it worked even less for me in that drama. I dropped Tiger and Rose around ep 18 because I was so frustrated with the fact that it shoves in your face this supposed matriarchal society that is literally no different than IRL patriarchy just with the men and women switching places. This “IRL patriarchy but it’s women instead” approach doesn’t work because it doesn’t unpack WHY IRL patriarchy set up men in positions of power in the first place and the traditional assumptions about the biological difference between men and women that underlie patriarchal societies. It does not interest me in any way to see women oppress men in drama in the exact same way as men do women IRL, because that says nothing about…anything, other than assuming that people just suck in general. It also doesn’t offer any solution to how to undo any of that oppression and unbalance of power, which is what these thought experiments with gender roles are supposed to do.

I guess the point of this very long post is to say I’m just frustrated with how Chinese dramas are still stuck in this rather outdated approach to feminism. Throw socialist/Marxist feminist theories in and it only entrenches this approach even further. None of this surprise me, but I find it hard to ignore in dramas such as My Heroic Husband and Tiger and Rose that set out to very explicitly challenge gender roles and then kind of…don’t. Actually it’s dramas that are not so “in your face” about it like The Story of Ming Lan and to a certain extent Nothing Gold Can Stay are the ones that drives across more subtle but clearer messages about how damaging patriarchy is to women.

(Having said all of this, I still do love My Heroic Husband as a drama because it’s still very entertaining. It’s not meant to be that deep of a drama anyway, I just have too high expectations this being my field IRL and all.) -H

#my heroic husband #赘婿 #the romance of tiger and rose #传闻中的陈芊芊 #cdrama #meta #feminism in cdrama #women in cdramas #mhh meta

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join-the-joywrite · 3 years ago

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So before I say goodbye, would you do one last thing for me?

And take, take her to the moon for me

Reggie thinks about crossing over . . . and then he does

read on ao3 here

you can all thank @thedeathdeelers for it because of this post. and also you should all go listen to the song based off bing bong's take her to the moon line

They were going to cross over. Soon. It wasn't going to be some great big show of sparks or jolts of pain. Reggie could tell it was going to be a quiet affair that took them away unexpectedly.

Reggie sat alone most nights, wondering what his unfinished business had been. The Orpheum, though only half a year ago, felt like several years. Stealing Willie's soul back from right under Caleb's nose was just a few weeks ago but it felt like months. On these lonely nights, Reggie mentally relived his afterlife, trying to pinpoint some milestone moment that could've been it. Other nights, he distracted himself playing softly with Alex and Luke, or tweaking songs with Luke, or pathetically failing to learn skating with Willie. Or sometimes he would wander around the house and just do small things here and there.

Once, he did Carlos' forgotten math homework for him. Julie had scolded him about cheating with Carlos, but that had only been for a second before she relayed how grateful Carlos was and how much he wished he could see Reggie and say it himself.

Part of Reggie wanted to voice his thoughts about crossing over. Another part of him hoped that if he didn't talk about it, it wouldn't be real.

And then, one day, Willie vanished. As expected and understandably so, Alex was inconsolable. Reggie made the mistake of offhandedly commenting that it wasn't so bad. Maybe they'd meet up again after they crossed over. It wasn't much longer, now.

Alex was furious first. How could Reggie say that it wasn't so bad? Alex was confused after that. What did Reggie mean with all that? Alex was concerned in the end. Did Reggie really think they were going to cross over?

It was a nice thought, Alex would later tell Reggie. That they could be together when they crossed over and that he would see Willie again. But that wasn't going to happen for a long time. Luke agreed. They were going to take Julie to stardom before they ever considered leaving.

Reggie thought about Julie almost every minute of the day. He figured they would be okay with whatever happened after they crossed over. What would happen to Julie? Would it take her long to figure out what happened? Would their absence turn her away from music again?

That thought alone had bothered Reggie so much that even Carlos noticed. Things were messy around the house. His computer was open on Spotify and the music was blasting into his headphones. No one was beating his messy room for him anymore. Luke decided to talk to Reggie. It all came out in a rush, how he was so afraid that when they crossed over, it would tear Julie apart. After he'd sat with Reggie and listened to everything bottled up, Luke promised to talk to Julie seriously -- and that serious talk happened to be today.

Reggie, who had been laying on the floor while all these thoughts bounced around in his head, sat up suddenly.

The studio was silent.

"Alex?"

Denial set in very quickly. Not now. He wasn't ready yet. He'd known it was coming for at least one month but he was far from prepared.

Alex had to be around somewhere, right? Reggie suddenly realised he was just hoping for a sign of where Alex was moments before he accidentally stepped onto Alex's drumsticks and landed on his back.

The drumsticks rolled across the floor, coming to a slow stop at the wheel of Willie's skateboard.

Sometimes my mom sends me signs, Julie had said once, and sometimes I don't get it until much later but sometimes it's just so clear what she's trying to tell me.

Reggie stared at the drumsticks and the skateboard. Couldn't get much clearer than that.

Suddenly, Reggie was struck with the horrifying thought that Luke had vanished mid-conversation with Julie.

Not thinking before he leapt, Reggie poofed into Julie's room.

"You're not allowed to do that," Julie said casually. "You know that."

"Sorry. Uh, do you know where Luke is?"

Julie shook her head. "He just left a few minutes ago. Said something about wanting to get some lyrics out of his head. Isn't he in the studio?"

Reggie lied very easily and believably. "Oh, I was just downstairs. I haven't checked the studio yet 'cause I thought I heard you talking to someone up here."

Reggie didn't know why he was lying to Julie. He didn't know what was worse. Telling her the truth or wishing he had later.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said with a chipper smile.

"Do you want a hug?"

Okay, so maybe he couldn't always lie well about everything. Reggie's nod was hesitant before it was quick.

Julie hopped off her bed and hung her arms loosely around Reggie. She let out a surprised yelp when Reggie wrapped his arms tightly around Julie.

"Someone's competing with Alex for best hug-giver."

Normally, Reggie would've laughed at that. But Alex was gone. Luke probably was too. Reggie would be gone soon too. He had to leave Julie's room. It would break her if she had to see it happen.

"Thanks, Julie."

Julie smiled brightly when Reggie pulled away. "Anytime. My hugs are free for all."

"You should get some sleep. W-we'll see you in the morning."

Why was he lying to her? He knew he'd be gone before she even fell asleep.

Maybe, if she thought they crossed over in the peace and quiet of the still night, she would feel better. Maybe, if she thought they crossed over while she slept, she would blame them for not waking her, not herself for not noticing.

"Fine. But not because you said to." Julie slid under her duvet and grinned at Reggie. She was mid-yawn before she realised. "I'll see you guys in the morning. Tell Alex and Luke I said good night."

"I will," Reggie said. And if he did happen to meet Alex and Luke, he would without a doubt deliver Julie's message. "I love you. We love you."

"Aww. I love you too, Reg."

Reggie left before he did or said something that would make Julie worry.

He meant to land in the studio. Instead, he found himself in the kitchen, his legs numb and a hollow emptiness in his chest.

"Reggie?"

Reggie looked up to see Carlos, backlit by the open fridge. "You should be in bed."

"You should be invisible."

"Uh . . . that's true."

Carlos kicked the fridge closed as he walked over to Reggie, quietly setting his glass on the island counter. "Are you okay? You look a bit sick. Can ghosts get sick? Is that a thing? Are there ghost doctors? Are they, like, special ghost doctors or just doctors that died?"

"That's too many questions at once, little man."

Carlos frowned. Reggie always answered every single question on the odd occasion that he could see and hear Reggie -- or even if Reggie was just chatting to him with Julie's phone. "Are you okay?" Carlos asked again, this time more serious and somehow even quieter than before.

"I will be." Another lie. He didn't know. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Julie and Carlos didn't worry.

"What's wrong?"

Reggie wished he could hug Carlos like he had hugged Julie just a few minutes ago. "I, uh . . . I gotta go."

"Oh. Where are you going? You're gonna be back, though, right?"

"I don't know." The first truth Reggie had spoken all night. "But I won't come back."

"Wh-- . . . oh." Carlos glanced down at the floor.

"Hey," Reggie said, crouching down. Carlos was looking down at him now. "You're gonna be okay."

"But what about you? Are you gonna be okay?"

Reggie shrugged. "I hope so. Maybe I'll see you again when you're all old and wrinkly."

"Ha ha." Carlos' tone was sarcastic, but his smile was genuine. His eyes widened and a gasp caught in his throat when Reggie wiped away the tears he didn't even notice. Without stopping to question it, Carlos threw his arms around Reggie's shoulders and held tight. "Do you have to go?"

The fragility of Carlos' croaked question set alight a small but agonizing flame in Reggie's chest. "I have to," he murmured, holding Carlos gently. "Alex and Luke are probably waiting for me."

"I don't want you to go."

"I know."

Reggie's entire body, save for the burning yet soothing sparks in his chest, felt numb. He had to glance over Carlos' shoulder to make sure he still had his arms. He moved to pull back so he could leave -- Carlos didn't have to see whatever crossing over looked like -- but Carlos wouldn't let go.

Reggie figured he would've been able to break out of Carlos' hold on a normal day. But today wasn't normal, was it?

"I have to go," Reggie said.

Carlos pretended he didn't hear it. "You're the best brother in the world."

Finally, Carlos let Reggie move back, but Reggie didn't stand or poof out. Instead, he gave Carlos a smile and wiped Carlos' wet cheeks. "Nah. You are. You're gonna look after Julie for us, aren't you?"

Carlos nodded. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he could see through Reggie. He was just tired and needed to go to bed, right?

"Julie belongs with the stars," Reggie said. "Take her to the moon for me, okay?"

"I'll try," Carlos told the empty kitchen. "I promise."

And then he wrapped his arms around himself and sat down on the floor as his small shoulders shook silently.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #reggie peters #mara writes stuff #angst warning #this is very sad y'all #im so sorry #(no im not)

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 4 years ago

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I Used To Call You Home - Isaac Lahey x Reader

(gif source)

Summary: Isaac comes back from France after two years after leaving without saying a word. (Requested by anon: Could I have a teen wolf Isaac Lacey imagine where he comes back from France? It’s angsty but has a happy ending)

Word Count: 2660

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing (what else is new)

a/n: hi! sorry this took so long, thanks for sending in the request anon! if i’m being completely honest i kinda like the title more than i like the actual fic (oops). but hopefully you like it and i did it justice! as always, please message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

masterlist

It was the last day of y/n’s first semester of college. It had gone by in a blur, really. The pack, y/n included, had still been recovering from everything that had happened with the hunters back in Beacon Hills, so to say her mind was elsewhere at the beginning of the semester was an understatement. She had finished all of her finals the day before so technically she could have already gone back to Beacon Hills, but given that her family all but disowned her when they found out she hung around with the “freaks” of the town, she wasn’t exactly eager to go home. When Scott’s mom found out that y/n was planning on staying on campus for the break she graciously invited the y/h/c to stay with them for the holidays. While y/n was looking forward to spending time with her found family, she found that now, with her classes over and almost a month of nothing ahead of her, she had more time to think about things than she’d like.

Despite her efforts, her thoughts always wandered back to him. The one that got away. If one could even call it that, technically they were never together. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less - in fact, maybe it made it hurt more - when he left without so much as a goodbye. y/n was packing up the last of her clothes for the break when her phone rang. When she saw the name, she could’ve sworn that her heart dropped through the floor.

Isaac.

She almost didn’t answer. She would’ve been smart not to, considering all the pain he caused her. But something inside her - the part that still loved him with every fiber of her being - told her to pick up the phone. The line was silent for a moment before she worked up the courage to say something.

“Hello?” y/n began timidly. Another beat of silence passed and she wondered if he’d called her by mistake. Or worse, as a joke. She heard him clear his throat and she let out a silent gasp as he answered.

“Hi… I’m… I’m at the airport, could you come pick me up?” Isaac said shyly. y/n could’ve been knocked over with a feather in her state of shock. He’s here. He’s in California. He’s home. On his end of the line, Isaac was almost sure that she’d hung up on him based on the lengthy silence that followed after he spoke. Though she couldn’t see him y/n knew that he was scratching the back of his neck, the way he always did when he was unsure or nervous. Before she could give herself a chance to be bitter, to be sad and resentful, to leave him hanging just like he did to her, she said yes. She was almost as shocked by her answer as Isaac was.

“Okay… um, yeah, I’ll be there soon. Give me like 45 minutes?” she stumbled over her words as she pressed her phone between her ear and shoulder while rushing around her room to pack the last things she’d need while back in Beacon Hills.

“Great, no rush. I can’t wait to see you, y/n,” Isaac smiled warmly before hanging up the phone. y/n stood still in the middle of her room, surrounded by sweaters and leggings with her mouth wide open. I can’t wait to see you, she repeated in her head.

“Fuck me,” she murmured under her breath as she shoved the last few items in her bag. “So much for moving on,” she muttered to herself, shutting and locking her door behind her as she left.

The drive to the airport from y/n’s college campus really wasn’t too far, much to her dismay. Sure, she was eager to see Isaac, but she was definitely not looking forward to confronting the feelings she’d been avoiding for years. As she pulled off the interstate she had to remind herself that they’d been friends since they were in middle school. They knew each other like the back of their hands. Well, they used to know each other anyways. She reminded herself that he always had her back and she always had his. Until of course, he left. No matter what she thought about, it always seemed to come back to that. He left home. He left the pack. He left her. There were some days it made her so angry that she could cry - so she did - but today it was more of a low simmer with the potential to burst at any moment.

The moment y/n pulled up to the terminal it all seemed to fade away. The hurt, the anger, the sadness, gone. Just like that. It didn’t take long after she parked to find him in the crowd. Her blue-eyed, six-foot-two scarf-wearing best friend stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of shorter travelers. Her breath hitched in her throat when they locked eyes through the window. As far as she was concerned, the rest of the world ceased to exist in that moment because all she could see was Isaac striding towards her car with multiple bags in hand. She snapped out of her daze and nearly tripped over her feet as she rounded the car to greet him and help him with his things.

Before she could say anything Isaac haphazardly dropped his bags on the ground, the safety of his belongings be damned, and wrapped his arms around her in a tight bear hug. A million scenarios had gone through y/n’s mind on the ride over but this was not one of them. Isaac buried his face deeper into her neck as y/n finally came out of her state of shock and returned the hug.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered quietly. His breath was warm, much warmer than the uncharacteristically frigid December night, and it sent a warm tingle down her spine. I missed you so much. God, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She was convinced it had to be a joke, this whole thing was playing out as if she hadn’t spent an entire year putting the pieces he’d left her in back together. The worst part was that she knew him leaving had nothing to do with her. He had never meant to hurt her and she knew it would kill him if he knew how badly he did. But, she decided, that was a conversation for when she wasn’t dangerously close to getting a parking ticket for being in the terminal pick-up for too long.

“I missed you too,” y/n replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Isaac was instantly able to tell something was bothering her.

“Hey,” he said with a concerned smile on his face. “What’s the matter?” He genuinely cared, y/n could tell that much. She would’ve felt bad lying to him if she knew she’d get away with it, but she knew he’d be able to tell the moment the words left her lips.

“I’m fine,” she replied with her lips pressed into a thin line and an expression that Isaac couldn’t quite read. He knew something was up, but he also knew y/n. The last thing she would want is to talk about whatever was bothering her in public, so he squeezed her arm gently before effortlessly picking up all three of his suitcases simultaneously to load them in the back of her car. They were quiet for the first few minutes of the drive and a silent understanding passed between them. A lot has changed. The silence remained until Isaac glanced away from the yellow street lights reflecting off the pavement to look at y/n. She’d grown a lot in the time since he’d last seen her; her hair was darker, the bags under her eyes had faded to a lighter color and her skin was clearer. He was almost too wrapped up in rememorizing her features that he didn’t see a small tear slip down her cheek, followed by another, this one larger and faster. Almost.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, worry etched all over his face as he gently placed a hand on her arm. If she was being completely honest, y/n hadn’t even realized she’d let the tears slip out until he said something. She glanced in the rear view mirror before quickly rubbing her face with the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt.

“What? Nothing. I’m fine,” she managed to say without her voice cracking. A small sniffle escaped but she never looked away from the road. At first Isaac was patient, he really tried to be anyway. He realized that after nearly two years of radio silence he didn’t have much of a right to come back and act like nothing had changed. But every being - supernatural or not - has their limits, so when y/n lied about her feelings for at least the second time that night, Isaac got tired of being patient.

“Pull over,” he ordered gently, looking at her expectantly and drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“What? No, I wanna get back ho- to Beacon Hills by a decent time,” she answered, only tearing her eyes away from the highway momentarily to try to read his face. He didn’t miss the way that she avoided calling Beacon Hills ‘home’ and that spurred him on even more.

“y/n, pull over, Please,” Isaac pleaded. y/n, who was really not in the mood to unpack her feelings this late at night, almost said no again. When she took in the soft look in his eyes though, she melted. Just like old times. She pulled off at the next exit and parked in the nearest well-lit area. The place was so quiet that it reminded her of a ghost town. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the pack’s encounter with the ghost riders. Boy, did they have a lot to catch him up on. They sat in silence again for a moment as y/n was nervously wringing her hands together in her lap while Isaac studied her face.

“What’s bothering you? Seriously? Do you know how much it kills me when you’re hurting?” he asked sincerely. y/n let out a small chuckle at that. If only he knew. She thought about deflecting again but she knew that would accomplish nothing and he’d keep them there until the early hours of the morning if she didn’t tell him what was on her mind.

“Why didn’t you say anything,” y/n murmured in a small voice. A beat of silence passed before she continued again. “I know why you left, I get that. I know you were hurting after Allison died. Hell, we all were,” y/n took long pauses every now and then and Isaac gave her all the time she needed. “I… fuck, Isaac, I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell you this,” her voice getting louder and gaining momentum with each word. Here goes nothing.

“I- I loved you, okay? I loved you and you just left without a single goodbye. I was stuck picking up the pieces of myself for almost a year and loving someone who was gone. I lost my best friend,” she rushed out before she lost the courage to say it all. “I still love you,” she whispered quietly. y/n refused to look towards her used-to-be best friend after her confession. She started to regret the words the minute she was enveloped in the silence that followed. Loved. Love. I still love you. The words rolled around in Isaac’s mind for a few moments. When they’d finally registered he lunged towards her, narrowly missing the center console as he gently grabbed her face and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. y/n honestly thought that he was going to get out of the car and walk back to Beacon Hills after her admission, so when he kissed her like he’d been waiting to for years she let out a surprised gasp and sat frozen for a moment. When she finally snapped out of her daze she returned the kiss with a newfound fervor as she threaded her fingers through his brown locks.

The pair only broke apart when their lungs were screaming for air, and by then the car windows had managed to fog up a little. y/n smiled sheepishly at Isaac, who wore a grin big enough to crack his face in two. She looked down to her lap shyly as she chuckled.

“So…” she trailed off, a little bit lost for words.

“So…” Isaac mimicked, a playful look in his eyes as a smirk danced across his face. y/n rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his arm.

“Be nice to me, I could’ve let your ass freeze outside the airport,” she retorted, followed by a very mature display of sticking her tongue out at him.

“Oh, I think I was very nice to you,” Isaac wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. y/n groaned but nonetheless smiled at his boyish nature. The two years apart hadn’t harmed his sense of humor and y/n was grateful for that, maybe just as grateful as she was to have him back home. A few short but sweet kisses were exchanged before y/n drove back towards the highway. It wasn’t until they were nearing the exit leading to Beacon Hills that y/n realized she didn’t know where she was taking Isaac.

“Hey, umm, where are you staying?” she asked as she flicked on her blinker before merging into the right lane. Isaac looked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“With you, to Scott’s place,” he answered, confusion written all over his face. y/n’s jaw dropped and she tried her hardest to keep from swerving off the road.

“So they knew you were coming! And they conveniently forgot to tell me! And you conveniently needed me to pick you up from the airport! What the hell?!” she ranted. Truly, y/n was far too giddy from their earlier kiss to be angry with her friends, but the little plot they had orchestrated definitely had her brainstorming ways to get back at them. Even though Isaac was unaware that the pack had kept y/n in the dark, he found her outburst a bit amusing. During the remainder of the drive to the McCall house they alternated between playful bickering and laughing at each other’s stories from the past two years.

When y/n and Isaac pulled into the driveway they sat there for a moment, basking in the warm feeling of each other's presence. The air between them was quiet for a moment before Isaac broke the silence.

“You know, there’s something I meant to say earlier,” he began as he slowly leaned toward her.

“And what would that be?” y/n asked playfully as her eyes danced around his face.

“I love you too,” he murmured sweetly before pressing his lips against hers. Joy swelled in y/n’s chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. After they pulled away y/n nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Scott, Stiles, and Lydia standing only a few feet away from the front of her car. Both of the boys wore knowing smirks and Lydia was swatting Stiles’s arm.

“I knew it! I knew it!” the red head squealed. Isaac chuckled as y/n’s cheeks began to burn bright red. She buried her face in his chest and he rested his chin atop her head, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.

“I think this might have been part of their plan, too,” he whispered with a smirk.

a/n: if you saw me using italics 534988 times in this post, no u didn’t ❤

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