#a little update on my life: i’ve been running through europe seeing things i thought i would never b able to afford to see

[lochnessbian]

hey guys doing my monthly scroll through this place 2 see what’s up… how r the vibes what’s going on with y’all

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

Downton’s Easy Company - Chapter 16

A Band of Brothers x Downton Abbey Crossover

Summary: The new generation of Downton is taking over, but just as the second world war is raging across Europe. On a cool London night, the children of the Crawleys meet the boys of the American 101st Airborne. Worlds collide and hearts are on the line.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @purplelavalamp​​​, @johnny-martin-is-mypeanut​​​, @the-disassembled-boy​​​, @tvserie-s-world​​​, @50svibes​​​, @cherriesx​​​, @incognito-princess​​​, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​​​, @claire-bear-1218, @goingmyway​​​​, @marv-llous​​​, @foalystechcrew​​​, @mother-dearest-loves-me​​, @dench1992​​​, @neverendingstories00​​​, @greenmonkeyfish, @grumpablebutloveable​​​, @lilaxdream​​​ @iilovemusic12us​​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: I hope you enjoy this update! There’s a lot of letters, but I figured they were the best way to show the time passing while they’re separated, so I hope that comes across to everyone :)

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15

OR

READ THIS FIC ON AO3

Chapter 16 here we go!!!

Dear George,

I’m so relieved you’re back in England. Let us know when you have some leave so we can prepare for you here at home. We miss you a great deal.

Katrine seems sweet enough, though she is rather private. Her boy has made himself quite comfortable, especially with Mama and Papa. We offered to hire a nanny, but Katrine wouldn’t hear of it. It seems an odd way to raise a child to me, but I suppose it comes from her own upbringing. 

You’re right about the boy being bright. Papa and I have taken initiative and are looking into some schools close by. He’s too young to enroll just yet, but we had a tutor evaluate him, and the report was quite promising. 

I do wish you’d tell me how you came by these two. I know you said they helped you when you were trapped in Holland, but I’d like the full story. Perhaps when you come home next, you and I can have a long discussion about it, and the possibilities for the Mondeels here in Yorkshire.

On an unrelated note, have you heard anything from Caroline? We haven’t seen her since before Christmas, and she has not been answering my letters. Have we done something to upset her? If you have any information, do share.

I hope you’re well, my darling.

Love,

Mother. 

***

Dear Ron,

I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you after all those weeks of silence. I’m also glad you’re out of danger (mostly) and can correspond again. I’ve missed you, as weak as it sounds to admit it. 

Baby and I are doing just fine. I am starting to show more now. So much so that I’m finally making use of the maternity clothes Victoria brought me. I’ve had them tailored so that they’re more modern - not that fashion matters much in times like this - but it does make me feel better. 

I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t been in touch with my family. Just Marigold, Sybbie, Victoria, and George. There isn’t much to tell them except the one thing I know I can’t tell them. As I told you, it doesn’t feel like the sort of thing you put in a letter. Do you think I should grit my teeth and bear it? Or can I put it off a little longer? I’m really beginning to miss my mother, whose presence would be much appreciated by her frightened daughter. 

I must make another admission. I am scared of this. Of the birth, yes, but mostly what comes after. We are going to be responsible for a life. It’s completely overwhelming. Not that I want to bog you down, you’ve got plenty to worry about where you are, but do you ever think of such things? How do you feel about a nanny? I had one growing up, but I understand you likely did not. Was it helpful to you? There’s so much to consider.

I’m also trying to come up with names. I like plenty of boy’s names, but I am starting to wonder if we should have a girl name picked out as well, just in case. I really do think it’s a boy, but one can never be too prepared. 

Here are the names I like so far:

Robert (after my grandfather)

Phillip

Theodore (Ted for short)

Wesley

Charles

Let me know your opinion on these. Keep in mind, his middle name should be Ronald, after you, as is tradition. Do you do that in America? 

If you’ve got any girl names, send them along. I really do think we should decide on one of each.

Be careful, love.

Your Caroline

***

Caroline,

Glad everything’s alright. I’m doing fine. I’d tell you more details, but they’d be redacted anyway, so what’s the point?

You tell your family only when you’re ready. Don’t worry about them. Focus on staying healthy. That’s the only priority right now. If you really need your mom, reach out. She might not like it, but she is still your mother. 

Nobody’s ever really ready for parenthood. Just remember that we are adults and it’s a baby. It doesn’t know how to do anything. We can handle this. 

I did not have a nanny, but depending on how the war goes, you might need the help. Let’s play that one by ear. Don’t overthink it. 

Girls' names are irrelevant, we’re not having a girl. 

As for the names you’ve chosen, here are my thoughts.

Robert is a no go. That’s Colonel Sink’s name and I don’t want to give him a big head.

Phillip is a possibility. 

No to Theodore/Ted. Much too old sounding. 

Wesley can stay in the running. 

I don’t like Charles. 

Now, for your consideration, here are names that I like: 

James

Thomas 

Leo

Haven’t been able to think of much more. But let me know what you think. 

Ron

***

Ron,

You are truly a stubborn arse. All the more shame on me for falling for you, I suppose. 

In spite of all that, I thank you for your reassurance. I will wait some more before telling my family. Marigold and Victoria are doing a very good job of caring for me. 

If you refuse to acknowledge the possibility of a girl, I will simply choose a name myself and you will just have to live with it. I like Violet, after my great-grandmother.

As for the boy names you picked out, I have to say no to Thomas. My uncle is Tom Branson, and then we have our butler Thomas Barrow, and I should hate for our child’s name to be confused with those two. I don’t mean that in a bad way, they’re two of my favorite people, but to have three Tom/Thomas’s in my heart would only get confusing. 

The other two names I very much like. So our list is now down to: 

Phillip

Wesley

James

Leo

(and Violet)

We can narrow it down further at a later date. I’m afraid I have to cut this letter short as I have a doctor’s appointment. 

Stay safe, love.

Your Caroline

Speirs wrinkled his nose at the latest letter. It may have also been because of the dank smell of Haguenau, but he preferred to blame Caroline. Truly, he was fond of the final list of names. He stared at the last one that she scratched out and turned it over in his mind. 

“Violet?” he murmured. 

“Sir?” questioned Lipton from his spot on the couch.

Speirs looked at the sergeant. “What do you think of the name Violet?”

Lipton’s brow furrowed. Before he could answer, he coughed, a small rattle still in his chest, though he was doing much better than before. 

“Violet?” he asked. “For what, like a cat?”

“No, like a baby,” Speirs said. 

He still had not told any of his men about Caroline’s pregnancy. He considered telling Lipton now, just to have someone around he could consult on these matters, but thought better of it. Enough people knew as it was and Caroline was not around to give her permission. 

“Ah, I see,” Lip replied. “I think it’s sweet. Traditional, but not overdone.”

Speirs was surprised that Lip did not challenge a baby name inquiry at a time like this. That was Lip, though. All support, no questions asked. Speirs took a deep breath.

“What do you think of Phillip?”

***

Dear Joe,

I hope I haven’t offended you somehow. It’s been weeks with no word from you. And the girls have received letters from others in your company, so I can’t help feeling like it’s personal. If something has changed between us, I hope you will share that with me. Just give me some clarity, please.

Love,

Victoria

Joe sighed, struggling to put the letter into his pocket with the truck rocking through the countryside. Eventually, he tucked it away and buttoned his pocket over it. Webster watched Joe with keen interest. Especially since Joe’s face looked so pained as he read. 

“Everything alright?” Webster asked. 

“What’s it to you?” Joe returned. 

Webster shrugged. “Alright, I’ll mind my business.”

He returned to his journal. Joe chewed his cheek and glowered out at the scenery. 

“It’s Victoria,” he admitted.

He needed to talk to someone about it. Why not Web? 

Webster looked up curiously. “What about her?”

“I think I gotta break up with her,” Joe said. “We’re just...too different.”

“Is that so bad?” Webster wondered. “Maybe you can balance each other out.”

“Nah, I think we want different things,” Joe insisted. “I love the girl, but I can’t ask her to give up everything for me, y’know?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the situation,” Webster said. “But I understand what you’re saying. Either way you go, one of you will be making a huge sacrifice. What you have to decide is if it’s worth it.”

Joe heaved another sigh. “I don’t know…”

“I think you have your answer then,” Webster said. 

With that, he started writing again and left Joe to his thoughts. Joe considered that. He wasn’t totally sure about Victoria. If he was, shouldn’t he be willing to sacrifice? But he thought of her sweet smile and the tenderness of her heart, and he felt weak. He was lucky Victoria wanted to be with him, wanted to compromise with him. He had to think about it some more. He needed to decide what he really wanted out of life. But what were the possibilities? They were heading into Germany, but the war was not over yet. 

***

Dear Dick,

Paris is settling down and beginning to feel like the place I left years ago. It’s been fun to take Victoria and Caroline around. Caroline is getting bigger every day it seems, but she’s very healthy. Incredibly, I felt the child kick, and I daresay it made me rather emotional. I feel my cousin is hardly out of her own childhood, and now she is bringing new life into the world. 

It reminds me of my own mother. I wish I could confide this in Caroline, but I feel it isn’t really my story to tell. I’m a key player in it, of course, but obviously my mother’s privacy comes first. Thank you again for your own discretion. 

Seeing Caroline become a mother has also put thoughts of my own future into perspective. After everything I’ve been through, I want very much to live simply. Because of my parentage, I can never really belong in the world my family exists in. I don’t think it’s what I want anyway. I just want a peaceful, quiet place to raise a family and perhaps write a novel. How do you picture your life after the war? I don’t believe we’ve discussed it before. I do hope I am somewhere in your imaginings. You are certainly in mine. 

You are also in my thoughts and prayers. Do take care of yourself. 

Love, 

Marigold

Dick read over Marigold’s words, touched. She said exactly the things he was hoping she would. They were heading in the same direction, with the same goals. It was a relief to him. It was easy to picture Marigold as his wife, at his side. He admired her, respected her, and loved her. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Nixon teased. 

Dick shook his head. “Nothing. Just something nice Marigold wrote.”

“Oh?” Nix returned, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Dick said. “I think it’s time to talk about something more serious between us.”

Nix smirked. “Should I say congratulations now or wait until after the ceremony?”

Dick rolled his eyes. 

***

Dear Marigold,

It might sound silly, but I made a promise to myself after D-Day that should I survive the war, I’d find myself somewhere quiet to live out my life in peace. And you are absolutely a part of that picture. You have belonged there since that fateful day in the elevator. 

I’m glad to hear Caroline is doing alright with the baby. I would like to check on Speirs, but it feels like an awkward thing to ask about. So I’m afraid I don’t have any updates on him, though I’m sure he’s in contact with Caroline. 

Germany is surprisingly nice. Maybe it’s the warm weather or the lack of artillery, but we’re enjoying it here. The war should be over soon. So I’m happy to begin planning that future with you if that’s what you want. That obviously includes an offer I’d rather make in person, and we can have that conversation the next time I see you. Hopefully, that won’t be too long. 

I love you and miss you.

Yours, 

Dick

***

Dear Gene,

Bill and Joe are doing alright. They’ll be heading home soon, and selfish as it is, I will miss them terribly. They’re truly the most entertaining patients I’ve ever had, especially Bill. But of course you’re familiar with his personality. 

I hope I’m able to get to Paris soon to be with Caroline. She has asked me to be there to be an advocate for her for something big coming up. Really big. I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly what it is, as it’s just a bit scandalous. But she’s made some wishes known to me. That sounds ominous, but everything is going well so far.

I hope you’re doing well. With spring’s arrival, there must be a bit of a reprieve if you’re outdoors. Do you have a comfortable place to sleep at least? Lord knows you and your men have earned it. 

As for myself, I’ve applied to a university in Dublin, to attend in the fall (if the war is over, and it looks like it may be soon). I think it’s high time I experienced my Irish heritage and I want more for myself. I love being a nurse, but I want to explore all my options. I haven’t told anyone in the family yet. I’m going to Downton soon and will talk it over with George (he’s home on leave), but I wanted to tell you first. I could use additional hopes for my acceptance. 

Look after yourself. Get some rest. Don’t forget to eat. 

All my love,

Sybbie

Eugene tried not to be dismayed at the news. He wanted Sybbie to do what was best for her, but it dashed his hopes of asking her to come back to Louisiana with him. Not permanently - at least not right away - but to see a bit of his world. The way he had seen hers at Downton Abbey. He supposed it was still possible, but there was no guarantee of when the war would be over and their timeframe depended entirely on that. 

Even if she was able to visit, how could they progress together - if that was even what they were - with her in Dublin and him at home? He tried to picture himself staying in Europe, but he hated the idea. He missed home too much. He did not feel he belonged in Europe, nor did he particularly want to. For the first time, they weren’t on the same page.

***

Dear Sybbie, 

Thanks for all the updates on Guarnere and Toye. We’re all worried about them, and your letters put our minds at ease. I know those two appreciated your help too, and they’ll miss you back in the states. 

It sounds awfully suspicious about Caroline. I trust you though. And she must too if she’s asking you to join her in Paris. 

Good news, I am sleeping in a bed most nights. You’re so sweet to worry about things like that for me. 

I’m proud of you for taking a chance and applying to school. Not a lot of girls have the courage to do that, even if they want to. But you’re spirited enough. I have no doubt you’ll get in. You’re a brilliant nurse, and even if you aren’t accepted, you’ll have a great career ahead of you. 

You should tell your father you applied. I think it’ll make him really happy that you’re interested in Ireland. And you’ll have his hopes in your corner as well. 

I know it’s unlikely, but I hope I’ll get to see you before you go. 

Take care of yourself,

Eugene

***

Dear Caroline,

I’m home again on leave, and I still haven’t confessed my feelings to Kat or to Mother. Do you think me a dreadful coward? I’m beginning to think it of myself. In fairness, Mother hardly lets me alone when I’m at home, so Kat and I barely get time together for me to be able to have any sort of real discussion with her. I have bought a ring, though, and enclosed the catalog I purchased it from for your approval. You have very fine taste, and I trust you. 

How are you doing? The arrival should be soon, right? Spring is fully upon us now - truly a good time for welcoming something new. I hope it all goes smoothly and you come out of it feeling as strong as I know you to be. I’m looking forward to your return to Downton. 

Stay safe.

Your brother, 

George

Caroline rubbed her swollen belly as she read George’s letter, her back aching. Her cousins were around her, Sybbie finally having arrived at last. The baby was due soon. May snuck up on her so quickly, she wondered where the time went. Nerves began to eat at her the closer she got, especially since she still had not told the rest of the family. She took Ron’s words to heart. She would only tell them when she was good and ready. 

She decided also to get the birth over with before telling them. Perhaps they would be charmed by how cute it would be - which she was certain of - and would be more forgiving. It was always harder to be honest to someone’s face, especially a baby’s, and Caroline was banking on that. Plus, she wanted to arrange for George to be with her when she told them. She hoped he would wait on proposing to Kat. The ring he chose was stunning, and she made a mental note to tell him so.

On the morning of May 8, Caroline enjoyed breakfast with Sybbie and Victoria while Marigold went down to get a newspaper. Caroline sipped her tea and hoped there would be some good news at last. 

“Why don’t you just turn on the radio?” Victoria wondered.

“Because it’s ghastly noise,” Caroline said. “Mornings are meant for quietly reading the newspaper like sensible people.”

Victoria laughed and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, Marigold burst into the room, looking winded and completely shell shocked. She’d clearly run all the way up from the lobby. 

“Goodness, Marigold, what is it?” Sybbie asked. 

“The war is over,” Marigold blurted out, holding out the day’s newspaper. 

They all saw the VE-Day headline, though they couldn’t quite believe it. After all these years at war, it had become the new normal. The send offs, the letters, the telegrams, the sleepless nights. It was all over. No more fighting. No more death. No more. 

“Good God in heaven,” Caroline breathed out. “Can it really be true?”

“It’s right there in black and white,” Marigold said, staring at the paper as if it were a bomb that might take her hand off any second. 

They all feared this was a dream they might wake up from. Slowly, Sybbie rose from her chair, tears filling her eyes. She gazed at each of her cousins, who she truly regarded more as sisters now, and she reached for their hands. She took hold of Caroline’s, Caroline took hold of Victoria’s, Victoria took Marigold’s, and then Marigold and Sybbie completed the circle. 

“We made it, girls,” Sybbie said. “And so did our men.”

Caroline blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. She took a deep breath and blinked the rest away. 

“What are we blubbering about?” she joked. “This calls for a celebration! We should be ordering champagne not crying like babies!”

They all laughed and agreed, fighting the lumps in their throats and the mist in their eyes. And they did order champagne. Together, they shared a toast to the end of the war, and the start of their new lives. 

***

Dear Marigold,

I’ve talked things over with Colonel Sink, and he’s agreed to have you all join us in Zell am Zee, Austria. Our lodgings will suit you well, I think. Plus, I know Ron is anxious to be present when Caroline gives birth. Hopefully, it hasn’t already happened. If you can clear it with her doctor to travel, let me know when we can expect you. 

Looking forward to your answer. 

Yours,

Dick

[starrynite7114]

things you never knew: five

A/N: I’ve had this ready for a few days, no idea why I waited, but it’s here now! Enjoy this update! Hope you all are enjoying this story as much as I am!

TYNK: Characters one : two : three : four

Word count: 5856

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Thank you again @carlaangel86​ for making this for me! <3

Ailee groaned as Arthur tended to her wounds, laying on her side as he applied cream on the scars that she sustained with the whip that Theo used on her. It was a torture tactic in case she was captured by the enemy. He whipped her twenty five times every other week to build her tolerance. They didn’t hurt less, she just reacted less. The tears have stopped as crying upset Theo greatly. 

And she was exhausted.

Tears weren’t doing anything for her.

The only time she cried was when she would dream of Angel, praying and hoping for this hell to end.

“You’re progressing well.” She heard Arthur compliment her as he applied the cream on her back. “I don’t know how to help you Ailee.”

Arthur was a Maquina agent that Jin installed in Theo’s company. He made his way up after saving Theo’s life in a failed assassination attempt. He made his way up the ladder rather quickly and was now his right hand man. At times, Ailee was skeptical to trust him as he’s been undercover for nearly three years. Theo was charismatic and took care of the people he cared for, but he was also harsh. Though from their interactions, Theo always seemed to listen to Arthur’s advice. 

“You can’t.” Ailee felt the tear fall, running over the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Don’t do this for Angel, he’s not worth it.” Arthur knew what Theo held over his sister’s head and it was despicable. He reported to Jin that Theo was threatening Angel’s life, but it seemed that he didn’t care much for Ailee’s boyfriend. 

‘The loss of his life would propel her to come work for Maquina.’

The way Jin and Theo played with Ailee’s life, not caring how much they hurt her, it was despicable. Family was an excuse both used to explain their actions, that they cared for Ailee, they loved her. But this wasn’t what family was about. At least by his definition. Manipulating Ailee to fight for their cause, it was despicable. 

“To me he is, Angel has been the only constant in my life that has never required anything from me besides being myself.” She gripped the sheet as Arthur stitched up her new laceration she sustained. 

“Angel wouldn’t want you to suffer like this.”

“No, but if I lose him, I would lose my grip with reality. He’s the only person holding me down.” 

“At least let me tell your brothers where you are so they can come see you.”

“No,” she choked out. “That would upset Theo and it might blow your cover.” She never felt so helpless before. The only way she could escape was to become what Theo wanted her to be. Theo wanted her to be perfect. To kill with no qualms, to be able to surpass John.

She knew that eventually he would ask her to kill John for what occurred with his father.

‘They would never be able to kill you. You’re the one thing that John and Vince will never kill. You have to become better than them.’

Maquina provides the base model for Theo. She knew how to hold a gun, to fight, to escape tricky situations and to adapt to her surroundings.

Now, Theo was perfecting the skills she learned at Maquina. To be able to kill with whatever surrounded her or her bare hands. To be able to roam in the dark with no guidance. To not fear death or anything she used to fear.

The one fear he couldn’t get rid of was losing Angel and he used that to his advantage. 

So many times Ailee thought that ending her life would make this nightmare end, but all she could think of was Angel, what would happen to him if she did end her life? Felipe and EZ couldn’t lose another person. That would be too much life lost for a lifetime. 

She had to hold on.

She had to withstand it.

For Angel she would.

===============

Ailee sat on her bed, Melody sitting in front of her. She was brushing her daughter’s hair, Alexander sitting at the head of the bed. 

“She has Angel’s eyes.” Ailee loved looking at Melody’s eyes, because it reminded her of Angel’s. Whenever she missed him most all those years ago, she would hold Melody in her arms, look into her eyes and feel at home again.

“Has he reached out to you?” Alexander questioned, watching how Ailee softly brushed Melody’s hair, making sure that she didn’t get the brush caught on her implant.

Melody has a cochlear implant that she had placed at four years old. She was born with congenital deafness due to a chemical that was induced during the pregnancy, Ailee’s pregnancy. Melody was a twin, but due to a drug that induced abortion, her twin died. Melody survived. 

Ailee was pregnant when she was arrested. She had found out that day and was going to tell Angel, she was four months along. Theo found out she was pregnant and due to his disapproval of Angel, gave her water that was laced with the drug. It was successfully worked on one of the babies, but Melody hung on and due to this, she developed the condition.

Thankfully, Melody was able to get the cochlear implant so she can hear. Her speech needed help, but Ailee had the best working on her.

A secret she kept from Angel all these years knowing that if her brother found out that Ailee had given birth to Angel’s child, it would place a target on her back. So she decided to pretend that it was a child she adopted in Europe, letting her stay with a family friend while Ailee racked up the bodies all around Europe. If she made herself look invincible, into the monster Theo wanted her to be, he wouldn’t fuck with her or Melody.

So she made the elaborate lie that she was adopted, when in reality, Melody was her and Angel’s child. Her brothers helped her cover her secret along with Jin. She didn’t mean to withhold Melody from Angel and she didn’t. Melody knew who her father was, she never hid that. 

“No, he won’t. Why should he?” Ailee hoped Angel didn’t reach out to her, there was no reason to do so.

“You know why you agreed to this, you wanted Angel to meet Melody. You didn’t agree to this at the farce of your half-brother possibly being here.” Alexander knew the truth. This was Ailee’s way to go home, so she fed the intel that Theo may be at the border communicating through the rebel group. It was a farce, a dangerous one at that, but once Melody met Angel, her conscience would be cleared and they could leave again.

This was the best way for Melody to be protected, by having Maquina around. As much as she despised the organization, she saw the benefits that it provided. By saying that Theo could possibly be around, Maquina would provide their agents and resources to assure that Theo doesn’t make any headway in America. It was a terrible farce but this was the way Melody could meet Angel. 

“I know, I just, he’s going to hate me.” And maybe she was frightened she would be rejected. From her understanding he had something going on with the rebel leader. The last thing she wanted was to disrupt Angel’s life. He was better without her, without her troubles and fallacies. 

“Angel could never hate you. He’ll be angry, but he won't hate you. He knows you did this for your daughter and not to spite him.” Alexander reasoned. “Or at least I would hope he didn’t.”

“This was a bad idea. I should have never come back.” Ailee places the brush down, Melody turning her implant back on. 

“Mommy, when do I get to see daddy?” Melody signed to Ailee.

“Soon baby,” she tucked her daughters hair back. “Mommy just needs a little more time.”

“Okay.” Melody said, nodding her head and getting off the bed. “Uncle Alexander, can we play?”

“Anything for you princess.” He stood up, almost following Melody out of the room before turning back. “You can’t keep him waiting Lee, Santo Padre is a small town. It’s not like you can deny her resemblance to him when he sees her.”

Ailee knew that, but she needed time. 

She wasn’t ready.

Well, when would she ever?

===============

“This is insane Ailee, there are no leads connecting Theo to anyone here.” Janine rolled her eyes. “Well, we all know why that is.” She smirked at Ailee who flicked her off.

“The customer is awaiting their latte.” Ailee reminded her.

“I don’t do scut work.” Janine scoffed, a playful smirk gracing her lips as well. “Carl, latte,” she ordered, snapping her fingers at her protege. 

Carl quickly came and made the latte for the customer, busying himself with other tasks while waiting for the next customers.

“Wow, it’s like you have him on a leash.” Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. He was glad this was implemented after his time.

“He just knows better than to argue with me.” Janine grinned. “So have you reunited with your boy toy?” 

Ailee rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Of course not.” Andrew sat across from Janine, placing a coffee in front of her. “For you Bonita.”

“Bite me.”

“Where?” Andrew wiggled his eyebrows.

“It’s too early for you two to behave this way.” Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“You’re just jealous because I’m taking your boyfriend.” Janine flipped him off.

“I’m good, I got Olivia.” Oscar blew her a kiss.

Janine chuckled. “You going to fight her jailbird?”

Ailee laughed, shaking her head at her team. Oscar was the first to join her group of misfits, meeting during training. Janine was the second to join, being assigned to the team by John. Olivia joined next, Ailee wanted her best friend to take care of all of her IT needs. Andrew was the last to join. Ailee met him during one of her visits in a Maquina training facility in Germany. He caught her eye and she immediately made him a part of her team. 

Young. Hungry. Talented.

That's what she looked for.

“I can take on baby Reyes.” Oscar scoffed. “Prison can’t teach you my skills.”

“They don’t teach dick sucking in prison?” Janine caused a roar of laughter to break out between the team members. 

Ailee was thankful that she had Oscar, Olivia, Janine and Andrew. They made this life so much more bearable. 

The bell above the door rang, indicating a customer came in. They heard Carl and Iya greet the customer, but they didn’t hear a reply. Ailee looked over and cussed under her breath. 

“We need to talk.” Angel’s eyes were trained on her, it was like he had tunnel vision.

Ailee saw Andrew and Oscar made a move to get up, but she stopped them.

“It’s fine, sit.” She looked at Angel. “Can it wait?”

“No, you don’t look busy to me. Besides, I think you owe me an explanation.”

“About what?

Angel cackled. He threw the folder that John and Vince gave him last night to the floor.

“Where’s my daughter?”

Janine, Oscar and Andrew all saw how Ailee’s face changed and immediately dispersed. Angel waited for Ailee to make a move. He could stand here all day. She was lucky he didn’t wake her up in the middle of the night.

“Follow me.” Ailee made her way towards her office, Angel following suit. As soon as they were both inside, Ailee closed the door. “Who told you?”

“You’re not even going to try and deny it?”

“For? You already know.” Ailee walked behind her desk, sitting down on the chair. “Who. Told. You.”

“Does it fucking matter? Cause you should have fucking told me.” Angel spat out. “You weren’t even in fucking jail Ailee, you were free, raising our fucking child without me!” 

Ailee knew it was awful of her to keep Melody away, but she couldn’t bring her to Santo Padre. She feared for Melody and Angel’s life. Maybe her decision was questionable but she did what she had to do as a mother. 

“I don’t expect you to understand my decision, but just know I made the best decision for her.”

“Why? Cause I’m that much of a fuck up? You didn’t even give me a fucking chance to fuck up!”

“No, Angel,” she immediately felt her heart clenched. She always believed Angel would be an amazing father. It was never about him. “You would be an amazing father, I just,” Ailee sighed. For once, Angel saw his Ailee, not this cold person that he’s been seeing around town. “Theo already killed one of them, I couldn’t risk bringing Melody here. He would know she was your kid and kill her.”

Hearing the confirmation from Ailee hit differently. Sure she wasn’t in jail. Sure she didn’t suffer as he thought she did, but she suffered in a different way that he still couldn’t fathom. He thought his family was a work of art but Ailee’s family took the cake. His girl lost one of their kids and she had to suffer through it alone. She raised their kid on her own. But she could have come to him, he would have protected her and their daughter.

“You should have come home to me Ailee. I could have protected you and our daughter. I would do anything for you Lee.” Angel felt the tears building in his eyes. Years of shame, disappointment, regret, frustration, sadness and anger were resurfacing for both himself and Ailee. They looked at one another, studying one another. Ailee was the light of Angel’s life, the person who made him feel that he was worthy. That no matter the life she could have elsewhere, she always chose him. And he would never fault her for that. If she wanted to stay with him, he would selfishly accept her. 

Angel was the light of Ailee’s life. 

During her time of darkness, as cliche as it sounded, he was her angel, the reason she kept fighting. When she was a child, he would sneak out with her, teach her how to play baseball or any other sport she wanted to learn. He would take her to watch the shining stars in the dark desert with no lights taking away their shine. When she suffered under Theo, he pushed her to live, to not kill herself because once she was able to escape, she would be back in his warm embrace. It kept her breathing. She felt like an idiot relying so much of her sanity on Angel, but she was the one person who didn’t like her due to her ability or what she could bring to the table, he loved her because she was Ailee. 

He was the love of her life. 

She was the love of his life.

Yet obstacles always came in between them.

But Ailee was content.

As long as Angel was alive she could live without having him, without being around him. She could live knowing that he was safe, at least from her demons.

Olivia opened the car door, letting Melody jump down the car. She smiled, holding out her hand towards Melody, which she gladly took. She had taken Melody out for some brunch while Alex was in Los Angeles handling business with Sierra. Parking in front of Carniceria Reyes was risky, but it was eleven in the morning, the shop was usually busy and she saw no bikes in sight. 

She was in the clear. 

“You think mommy will like her waffles?” Olivia asked Melody as they walked across the street.

EZ had caught sight of Olivia’s car, he gave her back a questioning look as he saw the child with her. He’s never seen the young girl before. She turned around and EZ felt his stomach churn. He recognized that smile, it was the same smile Angel had, the one he shared with their mother. He muttered some excuse to his father as he followed Olivia and the young girl. 

They entered Ailee’s cafe, which was called ‘MR cafe’. He didn’t know what the initials stood for but it was a catchy name. Following them inside, he saw how the employees warmly greeted the young girl along with Olivia. His eyes narrowed at the man hugging Olivia.

“Livy, Janine was being mean to me earlier, she said I had to fight the jailbird for you.” Oscar pouted.

Olivia laughed. “No, but you know you’re not my type.”

“What? Tall, dark and handsome? How is that not your type?” Oscar shook his head. “Now you’re just hurting my feelings.”

“More like obnoxious, arrogant and a clown.”

“Ooh! Burn!” Andrew let out a booming laugh.

Melody walked over to Olivia after retrieving a cookie from Carl.

“Mommy?” She looked at Janine.

“In her office sweetie, but,” before Janine could advise the young girl to wait, she bolted towards the office with the waffles in hand.

“Don’t worry, I got her.” Olivia walked away following after her with EZ following after Olivia. He passed by Andrew, Janine and Oscar since they thought he was heading to the restroom. EZ looked harmless to them, despite the kute. 

Olivia could hear the raised voices then, but before she could stop Melody from opening the door, she opened it. Her eyes immediately landed on Angel, her lie coming out before she could think.

"Oh, that's so odd, mommy isn't he-"

Melody ran straight to Ailee, hugging her leg. Angel looked at them, dumbfounded by the scene. The beautiful little girl looked up at him and when she studied his face, her eyes widened, hiding behind Ailee.

"I'm just gonna," Olivia nodded her head and made her way outside. EZ, who had seen them from across the street, was right behind her.

"Who was that?"

"Fuck me."

“She, please don’t tell me.” EZ knew that Olivia or Ailee would never keep something this enormous from them. They wouldn’t hide the existence of Angel’s child.

“EZ, it wasn’t my secret to tell.” Olivia grimaced, hugging him immediately. “This was on Ailee, I would never have crossed that line.”

EZ wrapped his arms around her. As much as he wanted to go inside for moral support, this was between Angel and well, his girls.

Angel looked down at Melody who was gripping her mother’s leg along with the plastic bag in her hand. She didn’t seem frightened of him, she just looked shy. Ailee had her hand on Melody’s head, placing a hand on her mouth to keep her sob from coming out. This was something she always dreamed of, Melody finally meeting Angel. She wiped her tears, squatting down to Melody’s level.

“Baby, I thought you and Auntie Ollie were having brunch?” Ailee questioned.

Melody looked at Angel then back at Ailee. “We did, I brought you waffles.” She signed back to her mother, marveling Angel. Lifting up the bag, Ailee took it, placing it on the desk behind her.

“She,” Angel paused remembering John and Vince’s words from last night. “Your brothers told me she could talk.”

Ailee stored that into memory. It was her brothers who told Angel. 

“She’s very shy, she just learned how to talk last year and she’s still getting used to it. She was born deaf and had an implant placed last year.” Ailee explained. “Baby, it’s okay, you can talk in front of daddy.”

Angel gave Ailee an incredulous look. How could Melody possibly know he was her father? 

Ailee saw the look on his face and sighed. “I never hid your existence from her. She always knew you were her father and she recognizes you from the pictures.” She looked at Melody who was looking up at Angel, marveled at the fact her father was finally in front of her. “Say hi to daddy Melly.”

Angel crouched down beside Ailee, wanting to give Melody the space she needed. He felt the tears escape his eyes, but he didn’t fucking care, his daughter was right in front of him and he felt like he saw his mother. Melody tilted her head, unsure why her father was crying. Her small hand reached up to him, wiping the tears escaping his eyes. Angel let out a sob, slightly startling Melody, but she kept her hand on his face.

“Hi daddy.” Melody closed the distance between them, wrapping her little arms around Angel’s neck. The tears wouldn’t stop falling for Angel, Ailee crying as well when she saw father and daughter together. Angel wrapped his arms around Melody, he never believed in love at first sight, but he did now. He fell in love with his daughter at first sight. 

“Hello Melody, you’re so beautiful mama.” Angel relished holding her. Looking at Ailee, he saw how she was trying her best to stop crying, but Ailee was awful at that. Picking up Melody, she was so light, it didn’t even feel like anything. Ailee stayed crouched down, trying her best to calm herself. He pulled her up, pulling her into his other arm, kissing the top of her head. “I got you baby, I got both of you.”

Their moment was broken when John and Vince burst into the room. Ailee glared at her brothers, obviously knowing of their betrayal.

“Oh man, is that my phone ringing? Might be my son, you know, your nephew, who needs me in his life.” John made a uturn and left the room. 

“That’s not fair, I don’t have a son to use as a scapegoat.” Vince gave his sister an apologetic smile. “I’m your favorite brother?”

“Leave.”

“Te quiero mucho mi hermana.” Vince left leaving the family again.

Angel looked out and saw EZ with Olivia. Looking at Melody, he gestured for his little brother to come in. Ailee looked at Olivia who gave her an encouraging smile.

“Melody, this is Tio EZ, he’s daddy’s brother.” Angel informed his daughter.

“She knows about EZ.” Ailee confirmed. “She knows about your whole family.”

Melody turned to face EZ. “You’re on Auntie Ollie’s phone.” She looked at Olivia who gestured for her to be quiet. 

EZ chuckled, tears streaming down his eyes. Much like Angel, he saw his mother as he looked at her. He couldn’t believe Angel had a little girl. He knew Ailee’s return was going to bring so many answers, yet, he felt like it was going to bring more questions as well. Angel told him about Ailee’s past, how she was a government agent. He didn’t fucking believe it though. Ailee could barely kill a fucking spider before much less a human being. He thinks it’s completely fabricated and there was something else.

But the lie was so elaborate.

“Can you take Melody? Ailee and I have much to talk about.” Angel handed Melody to Olivia. “And we need to talk as well Liv.” 

Olivia eyed Angel curiously before nodding her head. 

“Sure, we’ll be right outside.” 

Ailee stepped away from Angel, sitting back down behind her desk. Angel waited till the door was closed before he turned to Ailee. He didn’t want Melody out of his sight, but he didn’t want her to be in here for this conversation.

“I just want to make it very clear that I’m not letting Melody out of my sight. I don’t care what you do, what you think, but she’s my daughter and I intend to be with her whenever I can.” Angel started off. “And you’re coming as well.”

“What?” Ailee was confused by his words. 

Angel chuckled. “We have a daughter together, Lee. I’ve always told you you were it for me and nothing has changed that. Though, it appears we have much to talk about.” 

“You have a child, that’s that.” 

“Oh no mi dulce, I know that, but you’re staying with me or I’m staying with you, I don’t give a fuck how it works, you’re not leaving my sight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Angel, that’s impossible. You have to work and so do I.” Ailee hated how simple things always seemed to Angel. There was always a simple solution for him, but he never thought of the consequences or what had to be done to get to his simple outcome. 

Nothing in life was simple. 

“And? That’s not my concern. When you’re home, we’re all home together.” Again, so simple for Angel.

“No.”

“That wasn’t a choice.”

“I’m not discussing this, you’re out of your mind. I was gone for five years Angel, I’ve heard you’ve moved on. Let’s just keep it this way. You are more than welcome to see Melody but otherwise there is nothing between us.” Ailee put her foot down. It was better this way. Her and Angel were just a thing of the past and the only thing bringing them together was Melody.

Ailee hates herself too much to give herself to anyone. Angel would never love her if he found out what she did while she was away. He wanted an innocent girl, untainted. Not a jaded government agent who had more scars and baggage that she would like to admit.

“I’ve moved on? You’re the one parading your dildo around here. I’ve never moved on, and I never will, not from you.” Angel was livid. He moved on? Was that an excuse for her boyfriend?

“Alexander isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Look, I don’t want to argue, I got shit to do today and the last thing I want is for Melody to hear us arguing.” She lowered her voice. “We should take her to meet your father.”

“Not right now, I just, I want her to myself.” Angel sighed. He should introduce Melody to his father, but he wanted some time with Melody first, to get to know his daughter.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

“We’re staying together.”

“Okay Ignacio, whatever you say.”

===============

Olivia walked in her apartment, the smell of smoke was immediately apparent to her. She rolled her eyes, knowing Angel broke in her damn apartment again. It’s not like she didn’t have any security cameras, of course she did, the place was rigged. But Angel also had a key to her place.

“Ignacio, what did I say about breaking in?” Olivia closed her door, locking her door. 

“How could you not tell me Liv?” Angel questioned, crushing his cigarette butt on the ashtray that Olivia conveniently left out for him. 

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” Olivia sighed, sitting beside Angel on the couch. “I, I wanted to tell you, I really did, but Ailee didn’t want to. She said you made a life of your own and you didn’t need her.”

“She’s a pain in the ass.” 

“She’s your pain in the ass.”

Angel chuckled. “Yeah, yeah she is.” He slid the folder over to her, Olivia giving him a confused look. “Guess you also kept that you worked for a government agency.”

“Yeah, you know this, I do apps for various government agencies.” Olivia shook her head. “Why are you here?”

“So, when are you going to tell EZ that you’re a part of Maquina?” 

Olivia looked at Angel then, making her sigh. She let out a string of cuss words under her breath. She stood up and began pacing in front of Angel. “Who told you?”

“Just like Lee, didn’t even try to deny it.” Angel let out a small laugh, hardly amused by this whole ordeal. “You knew the entire time where she was, yet you never told me.”

“Angel, I wanted to tell you, I truly did, I just,” Olivia couldn’t even find a good excuse. There was no good explanation of what she did to Angel or EZ, but she had her reasons. “I had to respect Ailee’s choice, my loyalties will always lie with her. “I can’t tell EZ, not yet. I will eventually, especially with Maquina being so close to home.”

“Close to home? Maquina is in our home.” Angel lit another cigarette, the stress getting to him. “I don’t want to break my little brother’s heart since you kept such a big secret from him. I wanted to tell you that I know and I think you should be the one to tell EZ.”

“And I will.”

“When Liv? When are you going to tell EZ?”

“Soon, just not right now.”

“No better time than the present. This week seems to be the week of letting the cat out of the bag.” Angel sighed. “I’m not here to force your hand, you want to tell him, that’s on you. But tread carefully. Can’t promise you that the other members won’t mention it in front of EZ.”

“I’m sorry Angel, for whatever it's worth, I’m sorry that you found out like this.” Olivia didn’t want Angel to find out in this way. She was obviously never on board with keeping Angel in the dark, but she had to understand Ailee’s reasoning. Ailee was her best friend and she wanted to support her in any way she could. 

“Would Ailee have ever told me about Melody?” Angel knew she wouldn’t. 

“She wanted to, but she was afraid.”

“Of what? She knew how devoted I was to her.”

“It’s not about you.”

“Then what is it? Theo? Fuck her brother, he can kiss my ass. Her whole fucking family is a nightmare.” 

“Theo is a different beast Angel, I get that you don’t think before you do shit, but with him, you have to. You can’t be impulsive since he’ll count on that. I’m sure he knows Ailee is back in town, it won't be long before he makes his play.” Olivia knew that Theo always knew Ailee’s moves. He’s kept on track of her all these years. Maybe he didn’t know all of her moves, but he knew enough to make it dangerous. 

“I don’t give a fuck, let him come. I’m ending this shit, he’s not going to hurt my family, never again.”

===============

“Are you going with your uncle?” 

“To the brothel? Yes. Don’t wait up.”

“I try not to.” 

Alexander walked out just as Ailee stood up. She looked at her and saw a message from her uncle. Sighing, Ailee changed her clothes and made her way down the stairs. She saw Alexander and Melody in the living room. Quickly, she said goodbye to her daughter, late nights were not odd to Melody. 

Making her way to the coffee shop, she found her uncle waiting at the back of the shop, inside of his Mercedes Benz.

“Are we using my car?” Ailee questioned.

“We can use mine, Dave will drive us.” Dave has been her uncle’s bodyguard, driver, best friend and confidant for twenty-eight years. He didn’t trust anyone more than Dave. Even Ailee trusted him. His tough exterior was such a farce, because once it was the two of them, he would have tea parties with her, sneak her some cookies at night and even read her a book. She figured Dave was what a father should be, something she only saw on movies and television shows.

It was pathetic.

“Uncle Dave,” Ailee greeted him warmly.

“Fuck you both for coming to this god forsaken town. It’s unbearably hot.” He opened the door. “Hello to you too sweetheart.”

Jin and Ailee laughed, sliding inside the car. Dave closed the door, sliding in the driver seat. As they made their way to the brothel, Jin discussed the plan with Ailee.

“From my understanding, the Reid family is through and through racist yahoo’s who want to serve and protect the country by patrolling the border, illegally.” Jin provided background information. “Cole has been working with them, but he doesn’t seem very impressed with their lack of discipline.”

Ailee laughed. “None of them have ever served in the military. What made him think that they were going to be good foot soldiers? Their racist cause is their main agenda, having to shoot people of color is their whole purpose in this whole ordeal.”

“Gracie, have you spoken to Angel?” Jin knew it was only a matter of time before the two spoke again. They always gravitated around one another. He was surprised she was able to hold back this long when it came to talking to him. He knew that she made a few trips to Santo Padre, but she always left, wanting to assure his protection over anything. 

“No.” A lie, but she wasn’t required to be truthful to her uncle. She had to dig into this deceit that was placed ever since her supposed incarceration. Jin hardly told her the truth, why should she?

Great family dynamic.

“Why did you have Alexander bring Melody here?” Jin questioned. He didn’t feel comfortable having his granddaughter so close to the border with Theo around. They never understood Theo’s obsession with Ailee. Maybe due to the fact that he was an only child. Or maybe it was due to Ailee’s ability. Regardless, they were not big fans of Theo’s idiocracy.

“Why is this a question? Melody wanted to see me. Is that a crime?”

“Easy Gracie, I was just wondering. I thought you wanted to keep her away from Santo Padre.” Jin didn't want to upset her, but he was also looking out for his granddaughter. Though he figured Melody was safe since they had more than fifteen Maquina agents around as of right now.

“Yes, but, I can’t live in fear. If Theo wants to harm her then I will have his head on a silver platter before he can do so.” Ailee sighed. “Why is he such a concern? Theo has not made noise in years. Backing lowly European groups is hardly any of our concern.”

“It’s Theo, you never count out a Kane. He’ll want his revenge and make people pay for what occurred with his father. We need to be ten steps ahead to assure he cannot pull a fast one on us.” Jin never counted out Theo. He did not like to be an underdog, did not like to be the second best. He had to be the best. He remembered when Theo expressed interest in joining Maquina and it was an immediate no. The way Theo was, Jin knew that training him and giving him permission to eliminate people would be too powerful of a task for him. “Grace, what did he do to you?”

“Besides killing one of my children? The details are not necessary, just know that you perfected whatever he wanted to do.”

“And what’s that?” Jin hated it when Ailee compared him to Ailee. He did everything for her own protection. She thrived under Maquina and without it, Melody wouldn’t be able to hear. There was a tiny amount of guilt that ate at him, that if he didn’t set her up, Theo wouldn’t have been able to take her child from her. 

“A killer with no moral code.”

[marvelofcontent]

May the Fourth Be With You (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

Summary  You and Peter are huge Star Wars Fans. Always have been, always will be. After Thanos and Mysterio had their fun, you finally get to enjoy your senior year of high school, but things have changed between you and Peter. What plans are in store for the pair of you now that senior year is coming to a close? Word Count 2677 Warnings This is a nerdy fluffy piece to celebrate Star Wars Day, so some Star Wars references are included, but nothing too obscure. This story was posted after May Fourth because I thought of this late and I suck at updating. To all of my Star Wars fans, May the Fourth Be With You!

Peter Benjamin Parker loves Star Wars. When the boy your father had recruited boarded the jet and sat by Happy, you made a metal note to talk to him once you finished reading your book, only a few chapters from the end. Mid-flight, you made your way over and took the empty seat in front of him nonchalantly.

“You’re Peter, right? I’m y/n,” you said gently, offering him a small smile. He returned it and nodded. The two of you struck some conversation before quieting down to a comfortable silence. You busied yourselves with your phones, your eyes only peeking up when Peter started to fidget in his seat, a wide smile on his face. 

“You look happy,” you commented, looking him over for a moment. He reacted by stiffening and ducking his eyes awkwardly, reluctantly turning his screen off.

“Oh no, it’s stupid,” he tried to brush off, but your curiosity had already taken root.

“Couldn’t have been stupid to bring on a smile like that. Come on, what is it?” You inched closer, on the edge of your seat. When he glanced up and saw your poised determination, he let out a nervous huff and reopened his phone.

“Oh nothing, just…there are new pictures from the set of The Last Jedi. Just some nerdy-”

“Wait, really? Can I see?” His eyes widened as you got up and sat beside him, excitement in your eyes.

“Wait, you like Star Wars?”

“Like Star Wars? Are you kidding? I love Star Wars. My dad helped me build a pencil sharpener R2D2 a few years ago.” To your surprise, he let out a warm laugh and turned his body in your direction.

“I can’t imagine the Tony Stark fiddling over a pencil sharpener.”

“The man can’t follow a set of instructions for his life. Iron Man insisted he was right and the little motor almost blew because he put the gears in the wrong places and the blades upside down,” you giggled, remembering the way you hid behind a pillow when it started to screech. In that moment, Peter took a better look at you and smiled wider, suddenly feeling inexplicably comfortable with you. The rest of the flight, you passed the time by talking about Star Wars and other interests you shared going beyond the sci-fi galaxy, and you became inseparable even after the events in Berlin.

-8 Years Later-

A lot had changed since that jet ride. Since the fight in Berlin, the Avengers disbanded and went their separate ways, you enrolled as a junior at Midtown School of Science and Technology, Spiderman became New York’s favorite local crime fighter, and Thanos came and wiped out half of the universe. You and Peter died in space, your true feelings and goodbyes lost with you as you dusted away. You both returned five years later only to lose Tony Stark, father and mentor. The year that followed was difficult, the loss of your father weighing down on both of you. You stopped talking about the things that made you happy, like Star Wars and sketching, and focused on the somber aspects of life. The world fell on both your shoulders and the most support you had was each other. When you went on the class trip to Europe, all you wanted was a chance to enjoy life experiences as a teenager again.

Quentin Beck almost stole that opportunity away from you when he brought the Elementals to life as pieces in his revenge plot. He would have killed you and ruined your trip if it hadn’t been for your best friend in the spider suit. By the end of the trip, Peter had saved you, and he made the trip worth it when he gave you a bracelet with a glass shooting star charm and confessed his feelings for you, sharing a gentle kiss on the bridge.

Life went on when you came home, but things became manageable. Stark Industries was rising again, you were finding your place in your family, and senior year finally came, much to everyone’s relief. To top it all off, Peter was with you through it all, not only as your best friend and fellow crime fighting superhero, but as your loving and supportive boyfriend. As the year started coming to a close, you noticed that MJ and Betty had been adamant about keeping you busy everyday afterschool. Between decathlon leadership meetings, student council sessions, and emergency study groups, you stopped walking home with Peter and the guilt started eating at you. 

One afternoon with the girls, you let out a frustrated huff and threw Betty a wide eyed glance of disbelief.

“Betty, we went over this concept yesterday! I thought you were feeling better about it?” 

“I was, but then Dr. Gammon did a few problems in class and I got lost again,” your friend justified, twirling her hair with her fingers as she focused on the book before you. Quickly glancing at your phone, you let out a sigh. You had been studying for hours and the sun would be going down soon, a late night patrol waiting for you. 

“MJ, can you give this a shot? Maybe you can explain it better,” you asked as you checked your phone notifications. Nothing.

“Sure. Let me see-”  she was cut off by a chime coming from her phone. Lightening fast, she pulled her phone out and proceeded to stand in the middle of the room, typing furiously. You found it odd that she paused so suddenly, but brushed it off as you started to pack your bag.

“I should get going, so I’ll see you guys-”

“Wait!” MJ shouted, her head snapping up suddenly. You were taken aback by her volume and gave her a worried look. You could see her look at Betty from the corner of her eye. “There’s something I want to talk to you about before you go.”

“Oh…okay,” you replied, setting your bag back down on the floor. “What is it?” She came over and sat beside you on the bed.

“Has everything been alright?” You tilted your head, mildly confused by the question.

“I…guess. Why?”

“You just seem on edge all the time. Stressed almost,” she pressed a bit. You shrugged.

“Well, there’s been a lot going on. We keep having decathlon leadership stuff-”

“We have to train the new kids before we go,” MJ pointed out gently.

“Right, but I think they’re ready. They seem tired of us nagging them. One of these days, Daisy’s going to actually stab herself instead of looking like she wants to. And student council keeps having pointless meetings-”

“We have to finalize all of the end of the year activities and their details,” Betty defended herself, her attention on the two of you.

“We did not need to spend an hour on choosing the balloon colors for the senior banquet. We ended up with blue and gold like we’d originally planned anyways!”

“I guess I was asking more if everything is alright outside of school,” MJ redirected, shooting Betty a tiny glare.

“…I feel like I’m so busy with school that I’ve barely gotten any one-on-one time with Peter.” You missed the glance they gave one another. “I just feel like such a bad girlfriend, ya know? And I think he’s mad at me over it. He’s been avoiding me in between classes and he hasn’t texted me in days-” MJ’s chime interrupted you again. As you continued, she was fixated on the message, typing back immediately and you felt so betrayed. “MJ, this is serious!” She seemed to have sent her message because she snapped her head back up and looked at you with sorry eyes.

“Sorry. But I’m sure everything’s okay. Has he asked you to prom yet?” At the mention of the dance, you let out a pained groan and threw yourself back in the bed, your heart aching a bit from disappointment

“No, he hasn’t. He’s been avoiding me, remember?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment,” Betty reassured. Before you could respond, your phone started to ring, Peter’s contact picture popping up. “Take it as a sign of good luck,” she winked before returning to her work. You reluctantly picked up the call, putting the speaker to your ear.

“Peter?”

“Hey! What are you up to right now?” You let out a small sigh of relief. He sounded excited rather than upset or on edge.

“Studying with Betty and MJ. I was actually about to head out,” you replied, grabbing your bag again and packing the last of your things as he spoke.

“Listen, I know you have patrol tonight, but would you like to come over for dinner?” You looked at the time and sighed, knowing it would be late when you left the Parker household.

“I don’t know, Pete-”

“May’s making your favorite.” He was trying to be convincing and to your dismay, it was working. You bit your lip, thinking the offer over. “Please, y/n? I miss you.” His words tugged at your guilty heart and you caved, practically hearing his pout.

“Okay. I’ll head over now.”

“Great! See you soon!” He was quick to hang up much to your surprise. Glancing back at the girls, you shrugged at their expectant stares.

“He seems to be in a good mood, so maybe it’s not so bad,” you said gently, trying not to let yourself get too excited.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving? He’s expecting you,” Betty encouraged, waving you off.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll manage. Get out of here, y/n. Before Peter comes to grab you,” MJ teased, giving you a friendly nudge as you finally shouldered your bag. Giving them one last goodbye, you headed out, a bit of pep in your step as you thought of spending some time with Peter. Quickly climbing up the apartment stairwell, you paused in front of their door and gently took the note that was left taped up. Y/n, it read. I had to run out to grab some things for dinner tonight. Let yourself in. Peter should be in his room. You saw May’s signature at the bottom and gently opened the door, quickly closing the door behind you. The living room would have been pitch black if not for the tea lights creating a path on the floor. Confused by the detail, you slowly followed them down the hall, your footsteps creaking on the wood. The lights stopped in front of Peter’s closed door, so you instinctively knocked and winced at the harshness of the sound. When you opened the door, your eyes went wide, simply standing in the frame as the door opened wider. In front of his windows, you saw a sheet with swirling galaxy projections on it, the stars shining all over the walls and ceiling. They lit the room enough for you to see Peter standing in the middle of the empty room with a rose in his hands. Before you could say anything though, he sidestepped and got down on one knee to reveal a life size legos replica of R2D2 holding a sign with your name on it. Stepping closer, you gasped and covered your mouth with your hands.

“Out of all the girls in the Galaxy, Yoda Obi-Wan for me,”  Peter said out loud. “It’s been a rough few years for us, but you didn’t leave me Solo and you saved me from the Dark Side. I may not be a Skywalker, but y/n?”

“Yes?” you answered giddily, anticipation rising as he turned the sign over.

“Will you BB my d8 to prom?” he asked, word for word vocalizing the sign’s message. Unable to keep the smile off your face, you nodded quickly and waited for him to rise to his feet before launching yourself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

“Of course I will, Peter!” you whispered excitedly, your face pressing into his neck. Your eyes were prickling slightly with tears from the sheer joy as you felt him press kisses to the top of your head. You pulled back just enough to gently raise your hands to his cheeks and look him in the eyes. “I would love to go to prom with you.” His hand rose to rest against the nape of your neck, gently twirling your hair and drawing circles on your skin. He leaned in and sweetly pressed his lips to yours. When you pulled apart a few moments later, he leaned back slightly, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Did you get all of this, Karen?”

“Video saved.” Realizing he had recorded your moment, you jokingly hit his shoulder and shot him an incredulous look. “Sorry, but MJ and Betty would kill me if they didn’t get to see this.” At the mention of their names, your jaw dropped.

“Wait a minute, they were in on this?”

“And Ned. Once R2D2 got too big to hide easily, I asked for his help to assemble it and begged them to keep you busy.” The cheeky tone in his voice made you scrunch your nose and you tried to process his words, but shook your head.

“Too big to...how long have you been planning this?” Pulling the rose out from behind you, he pulled you in closer and offered it to you.

“Since that day in London. When we survived the whole Beck thing and kissed on the bridge, I promised you that I would ask you to prom and it would be out of this world.”

“But you never promised me anything. Up until your call earlier, I thought you were upset with me and I didn’t think you were going to ask.”

“It was still a promise to you, whether you knew it or not,” he whispered. You took the rose from him and smiled shyly, carefully dipping your nose into the petals to smell the flower.

“That was an awful lot of work for a promposal,” you teased quietly, your eyes gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

“You’re worth it.” Pressing a quick kiss to your lips one more time, he pulled you into a hug. Your heart swelled as you nuzzled into him, only for your happy thoughts to be interrupted by Karen.

“Peter, what should I do with the video?”

“Save it and send it to MJ, Betty, Ned, and May.”

“Okay. Video sent.”

“Speaking of May, where is she?” you asked, not bothering to pull away from the embrace.

“She went to grab some carryout from that Thai place you love. She should be back-” Suddenly, you heard the front door open and the lights turned on in the living room, glowing down the hall.

“I’m so happy she said yes!” May squealed as you heard her struggling with the bags of food.

“Right about now,” Peter chuckled. He pulled away and went to walk around you, but a thought occurred to you and you reached for his arm.

“Hey Pete?” He looked back at you. “Where’s all your furniture? The room’s empty.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s a funny story actually. Scott helped me shrink it all for the promposal, so everything’s in a basket in my closet. Don’t worry though; I have until midnight before everything grows back to normal size.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you simply slid your hand into his and followed him into the living room.

Dinner with the Parkers that night was great. May made a few embarrassing comments and flustered both of you, but it was just her way of showing her excitement. As you would find out the next day when the video played on a loop during Betty’s school news coverage, your friends loved to show their support through embarrassment too. Did you still love them though? Of course. You had so many people who loved you and you were grateful for them, even when they were at their weirdest. As Peter dorkily pointed out, you were Wookie to have them.

[matrixaffiliate]

Bourne

Story Update! FFN and AO3

Chapter 2

Mr. Harry Potter leant back in his seat and let out a long breath, the coach bouncing along the road as he watched the countryside near Ottery passing by the window. His valet, Sterling, tried to hand him a book, but Harry shook his head.

"Having second thoughts about coming along, Harry?"

Harry smiled at Ron, his closest friend since they'd started at boarding school together. He'd known Ronald Weasley longer than he'd known any other man outside of his own father and his father's friends.

"Only wondering if I'm going to make your family wish they'd never allowed you to spend your school years and beyond with the likes of me."

"On that topic," Ron shifted in his seat, "There is a slight chance they remember some of the nonsense I may have said when I was a boy. I'm ashamed to admit it but when I first saw your father's estate, I was blinded for days over it all." Ron chuckled and avoided Harry's gaze.

"I'll try to pretend as if my father's estate doesn't exist then," Harry kicked at Ron's foot and managed to catch his gaze. "You know my family, it's the people we're concerned with. Besides, that was years ago."

"Yes, and while I hope they've let my boyish ramblings become muddled with the passing of time, I'm sure my family has deduced that you're a man of some consequence, seeing as I've not asked for any allotment and have managed to travel with you through the majority of liberated Europe for the last three years." Ron finally managed to smile again and it put Harry at ease.

"Yes, well no need to tell them my yearly income, is there?" Harry chuckled and attempted to move the conversation away from his family's wealth. "We're here to visit your family, let you get things sorted to offer marriage to Miss Granger back in Godric's Hollow, and return home so you can make her yours."

"Right," Ron's eyes grew a bit wider.

"She's quite taken with you." Harry grinned, "And you with her."

"Yes, but the truth of your statement does little to quell the nerves I feel at the prospect of proposing."

"You'll do quite well at it, I'm sure, and even if you don't, I'm positive she'll be willing to look past it and accept regardless."

"Yes, well, first I must manage to work things out with my father." Ron rubbed the back of his neck and looked out of the coach to the fields beyond.

"I've told you, my father and I-"

"Yes, I know," Ron nodded, "but let me try to do the honorable thing first. My family isn't vastly wealthy, but we do have some, and my father has never been miserly with what we have. I have the apprenticeship ready with Mr. Longbottom to become a solicitor. Between that and what my father will give me should be enough. Miss Granger is her parents' only child, she deserves to know I can take care of her, and with her mother having no living relations I hope to support her as well when the time comes. I'd like for all of it to be on my own merit if I can."

"I respect that, but please don't throw away your happiness, or hers, over pride. Father agrees, if you need the funding, we will supply it."

"You have my word." Ron nodded, "And thank you."

They passed the remainder of their coach ride reminiscing on their school days and the adventures they'd found since traveling across mainland Europe. Now that Ron would be settling down Harry realized that these excursions would be over for the most part. It helped to push away the anxiety of what was next in his own life in exchange for enjoying the memories of their past journeys. It was the jovial conversation that allowed Ottery to come upon him unawares, and with it, his best friend's childhood home.

"Welcome to Westerly Place, Potter." Ron smiled as his childhood home came into view.

Harry admired how inviting the home looked. Though a fair bit smaller than the home he had grown up in, the house gave a feeling of warmth and welcome as they approached.

"It looks as though it was a welcome place to spend one's younger years, Ron."

"Yes, we fondly called it the Burrow as there were so many of us running about, barely enough room for the servants to be underfoot. But once Father managed to get all us boys out to boarding schools the place felt more spacious; so much so that my mother complains the house is empty now with just my sister and father and the help."

"I'm looking forward to meeting your family. Are your brothers still close to home or have they gone looking for adventure as you have?" Harry followed Ron to the front door.

"We've all gone off looking for adventure," Ron laughed. " Though three of them have settled down with wives, including the eldest. My sister is rather put out with them for it, I'm afraid, for their letters no longer tell her of the sights and wonders of His Majesty's kingdom. She wishes for the chance to see the world, and sates her desires with the letters from myself and brothers that still travel."

"An unusual trait in a woman, I've yet to meet many with real desire for more than a marriage proposal."

Harry smiled at the thought of a woman going off to truly explore as he and Ron had done the last few years, not simply improve her French. It seemed right to him, for a woman to want more from life. He had heard of a few higher born ladies traveling to Europe, but those stories tended to also include women seeking exile from a problematic marriage.

"Yes, well, my sister is an unusual sort," Ron smiled and gestured towards the field behind the old home.

Harry turned and was instantly enthralled by the image of a woman with hair as red as the red sky of a sunset and it was coming unpinned as it sprawled out behind her. She laughed and smiled and the combination made his knees begin to fold. She was running and he noticed as she caught herself from falling that she was barefoot. This woman was nothing like the women who flocked to his father's parties to try and win his favor - and his fortune. This woman was decidedly more. This woman was alive! Harry was certain that up to this point he'd been shown only versions of Frankenstein's monster when it came to women. Now he was beholding the real thing, a true lady, a woman with flesh and bones all her own.

"This is your sister?" Was all Harry managed to say as Ron knocked before opening the front door.

"Yes," Ron smiled over at Miss Weasley as she ran and spun in the meadow, then he stepped inside and breathed in deeply. "It's good to be back."

[softboywriting]

Truth | Finding Home Series

Summary: Shawn finds out the truth about Lily. [dad shawn] [non au]

Word Count: 1900

|Masterlist In Bio|

Tuesday. You pick up Lily from preschool and Shawn is already at the house when you get there. He's outside of his Jeep leaning against the door. The moment Lily sees him she starts shrieking.

You no sooner get her unbuckled from the car seat and she's bolting up the driveway to Shawn's open arms. Maybe this had gone on long enough. Maybe you should just come clean with Shawn and tell him Lily is his. The two were inseparable and despite the distance you put between your life and his the last week, it doesn't seem to have changed a thing.

“Easy now,” you say as you approach the two of them. Shawn has her held high in his big hands. “She had lunch around one today so she might be full still.”

“Momma! I'm a bird!”

“Yes sweetheart.” You chuckle and Shawn swoops her down to the ground.

“How was school?” he asks as the three of you head into the house.

“Awesome! We made bracelets today and I made one for me,” she holds out her wrist to reveal a little pony bead bracelet in green and white. “And I made one for you and momma!”

“Did you now?” You unlock the front door and head in. Lily dumps her whole backpack out on the sofa and brings over two bracelets. They match and are pink and blue. “They're very cute.”

“They match because my friend Andie said that her mom and dad have matching rings because they are in love and married. So I made yours match because you guys don't have those rings but you are in love too.”

Shawn smirks. He's so damn smug as he grabs the bracelet offered to him. “Your mom and I could have matching rings.”

“Shawn.”

“But she hasn't picked one out yet.”

Lily's eyes widen and she huffs at you. “Pick one out momma! Jeez!”

“Maybe someday bud.” You grab the remote off the back of the sofa and turn on Shimmer and Shine. “Look your show is on Lily.”

She turns and goes to get her little inflatable chair and parks herself in front of the TV to watch the two cartoon girls get up to their latest antics.

“And you come with me.” You point at Shawn and motion toward the kitchen.

The second you're in the kitchen Shawn opens his mouth. “I did propose to you once.”

“Yeah when we were twenty and you were smashed on your birthday. Thankfully I was sober enough to say no but she doesn't need to know that.”

“Yeah you were sober enough to say no to that but you were drunk enough to have sex with me that night.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don't have to be drunk to want to have sex with you and you know that. So what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just seems like the last time we slept together was that night and we were drunk. Also it was four years ago, and we haven't been intimate since.”

“What are you getting at?”

He crosses his arms and leans against the island counter. “It seems like ever since then things changed between us and I don't know if it's because of the proposal or if it's just because of Lily.”

“I was trying to keep Lily from you, so yeah, I didn't want to be intimate.”

“Because you felt guilty?”

“Shawn...we went over this. I didn't want to get too close because I thought if you found out about Lily it would change everything.”

“So what's the excuse now? Why are you trying to push me away now?”

“I'm not pushing you away.”

“Yes you are.”

“Shawn I told you, I want the distance because I don't want Lily getting the wrong idea about you.”

“What's the wrong idea? That I'm your friend? Because if it wasn't me, if I was some guy you were dating, would you want him to stay away too? Or is it different because there's something more to the situation?”

You swallow thickly and clench your jaw. He's right. You fucked up in your lie and he knows. Why is he different than any other guy you might bring into your life? Why were you still acting like you wanted to hide Lily from him? You should want a guy you're interested in to get close to Lily, for her to like him. Why was Shawn different? Because he was her dad? Because you are afraid of him leaving? Because you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth? You keep convincing yourself of these phantom what if’s and they're ruining what could be the best thing to ever happen to you.

“I just...”

“Am I Lily's dad?”

“Shawn.”

“Tell me. Stop lying to me. There is no point anymore. I'm here if she is and I'm here if she isn't. I just want to know if she is mine. It doesn't change anything.”

You cross your arms and take a shaky breath. He's right, again. There was no point in lying about it now. It wasn't as if he was just going to forget about Lily and go on with his life as a rockstar. “Yes. She's yours.”

Shawn step forward and cups your face in his big hands. “Thank you.”

“I'm sorry.” Your eyes start to burn and your tears run down your cheeks. “I'm so stupid. I shouldn't have lied, I should have told you. I just didn't want you to stop your whole life for me. You got everything you ever wanted and I couldn't take that away from you.”

“You did what you thought was right.” He wipes your cheeks with his thumbs. “You just wanted to protect me, I get it. I'm not angry at you. I promise I'm not.”

“You should hate me. I kept your child from you and look how much she loves you. Look how happy you are. I was selfish.”

Shawn tilts your head up for you to look at him. “I don't hate you, I could never do that. I’m upset you raised her alone for four years and put yourself through that, but I can’t change that. What's done is done. I'm here,I know now.”

“You're really not angry at me?”

“No. I mean, I was pissed at first because I knew you were lying. I couldn't figure out why but I understand. Being angry or upset because of it wouldn't make a difference now. I'm here, I want to be a part of your life, a part of hers.”

“But...your dream.”

“I've already made it. I'm ready to slow down and be with you. I've been working myself to the bone for too long, I became obsessed with music and it’s started to take everything from me. It's time to step away, just for a little while.”

“I can't ask that of you.”

“You're not asking me to do it. I'm telling you that this is how it is. I want to be here, I want to be with you and Lily. It's time.”

“How do we tell Lily?”

“We can tell her on her birthday?”

“A dad for her birthday? She'd be thrilled.”

Shawn kisses your nose. “It's settled then.”

____________________

A little after midnight a few days later and you wake up and Shawn isn't in bed. You wait a minute to see if he comes back from the bathroom or getting a glass of water. He doesn't so you get up and head to the kitchen to see if you can find him. By the time you get to the bottom of the staircase you can hear him talking. You decide to stay on the stairs and wait, to see what's going on.

“I’m calm and happy. I haven't needed my medicine since I've been home with her. I'm done Andrew. I can't keep going, you told me I could stop when I needed to. I need to. This is it. I'm ready to just be a dad and not have the world up my ass for ten seconds.”

Andrew's voice echoes through the kitchen. Shawn must have it on speaker phone. “The new single drops at the end of May, what about promo? We've already announced it, scheduled interviews in London and Paris for it as well as set up interviews with your Armani contract.”

“Fine, but after that I'm done. I'm serious. I want to relax for a while and take things at a much slower pace. I want to be here.”

“You love her don't you?”

“I've always loved her Andrew. You know that, everyone does.”

“I get it. You deserve it, you've put off your love life for years now. Are we still recording or do you want to do a complete hiatus?”

“I'm still recording and writing. Teddy said she'll be out here in a few weeks if I need her.”

“You gonna go public with your relationship?”

“I'm leaving that up to her. I don't want to bring too much attention to Lily if she's isn't comfortable.”

“Keep me updated. I'll make arrangements for security if need be, oh, and Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't worry about anything. It's okay to want to slow down and start a family. Just don't get in your head about letting anyone down. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks.”

“See you soon.”

“Bye.”

You hadn't realized how bad he was when he called you that night from Australia. You had no idea he was back on medication for his anxiety. It had been years since you last knew he was taking anything for that.

“Hey, what're you doing out of bed?” Shawn asks as he rounds the corner and finds you on the stairs. “Did I wake you up? I just had to talk to Andrew about some stuff. I'm sorry.”

“No, it's okay, I was just looking for you.”

Shawn wraps his arms around your middle and lifts you up off the last stair. You wrap your legs around his middle and he holds you against him, staring up at you with this soft brown eyes. “I'm right here.”

“Yeah, I see that.” You smile and run your hands through his hair.

“And I'm not going anywhere.”

“What about the promo?”

“You were eavesdropping?”

You look guilty and he starts up the stairs. “I was curious.”

“It's okay, I don't have anything to hide. Yes, I have to go to Europe for a few days at the end of May. My single is coming out that's going to kick off the album I've been working on. But I swear to you I am not doing a tour or anything. It'll be a soft release.”

“What days in May?”

“I think it's May 19th through May 25th.”

“You'll miss Lily's birthday.”

Shawn lays you on the bed and crawls over you. “I’ll be home that morning. I promise.”

You cup his cheek and he leans into the touch, eyes closed. “You swear you'll be back?”

“I will swim across the ocean if I have to. I'll be here. I swear I'll be here. I've missed enough birthdays.”

You pull Shawn down against you and he falls to the side a bit to hold you against his chest.

“I promise you I'll come back. I don't want to be anywhere else.” He noses against your neck. “I just want to be home.”

-----

[valiantthewriter]

Tony and Peter’s are going to a honeymoon trip in a private beach in Europe. and they have sex in the beach

I got a little carried away...I hope you enjoy. This is not family friendly.

Their tour of Europe had been excessive thus far. Peter had never been to so many luxurious places, from the updated farmhouse experience in Burgundy to the secluded villa in Sicily. He was still so impressed with the life Tony gave him that the “smallest things” like soft robes in the hotel room made him giggle happily.

“You’ll get used to this life, babe. You deserve it,” Tony would say, kissing all over Peter’s face to soothe away any doubts that he belonged in Tony’s world.

Currently they were at that villa in Sicily drinking limoncello on the beach. It was warm and Peter was a little tipsy, never one to be able to hold his alcohol. Peter looked his husband over, biting his lip as he eyed Tony’s tan chest. The alcohol combined with the newlywed stage made him hornier than ever.

“Daddy,” Peter said softly, looking at Tony as demurely as he could. It normally worked, but he was a little too tipsy to make it convincing.

Tony looked at Peter over the rim of his sunglasses. “Yes, baby boy?” he responded, setting his glass on the table.

Peter looked from Tony to the water and back to Tony. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, firmly as if there were no room for argument.

“Whatever you want, gorgeous,” Tony replied, standing up to head into the house. Peter didn’t want that.

“No, here on the beach. I’ve never...I’ve never had sex on the beach. I mean, you know that since I’ve only had sex with you. I want to try it,” the young man babbled, reaching to grab onto Tony’s linen pants. He could see the outline of Tony’s cock and it just made him even more turned on

Tony shook his head. “That’s how you get sand in places you don’t want it to be. If you want me to fuck you outside, I can do that. Let’s go on the porch instead,” he suggested, nodding his head in the direction of the villa.

“Daddy,” Peter whined, using the big guns, “I know you carry lube in your pocket just in case we need it, which is very perverted but we don’t have to discuss it, and I want to use it now, here on the beach,” Peter said, trying to reason with Tony. This was the final moment: either Tony would give in or Peter would sulk on the beach with his hand for company.

There was a beat of silence. “You’re sneaky,” Tony grumbled. He grabbed Peter by the curls to hoist him off the chair and bring him into a filthy kiss. Peter moaned into the kiss, submitting to Tony’s lead as their tongues rubbed together. Always overeager, Peter grabbed Tony through his pants, rubbing Tony’s hardening cock.

Peter broke the kiss to speak, “I want that fat cock of yours in me. Make me happy?”

He might not know what fork to use but he knows how to rile Tony up.

The older man grabbed Peter’s ass and pulled the boy flush against him. “You want Daddy’s cock, huh? How can someone so sweet be so slutty?” The question was rhetorical but Peter answered.

“Because we were made for each other. Duh.”

Tony dove in to bite where Peter’s neck met his shoulder, hard enough to bruise. Peter cried out and began to shimmy his shorts off, his hard little cock bouncing onto his stomach.

“Look at you, already so eager. It’s almost as if I didn’t get you all fucked out on my cock this morning,” Tony teased, grabbing Peter’s hair again to shove him to the ground, “Suck me and get me hard. Earn it.”

That sent a thrill through Peter, his spine tingling at the thought that he had to work for it. He kneeled at Tony’s feet, rubbing the older man’s thighs before pulling his linen pants down. Tony’s cock was half hard and starting to leak. It looked divine. Peter grabbed Tony in his hand, stroking several times before sucking the head of Tony’s cock into his mouth. He suckled on the head while he stroked Tony’s length. Once Tony was fully hard, Peter began to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked Tony down.

“That’s it, baby boy. You know what to do with that pretty mouth,” Tony praised, rubbing his thumb over Peter’s stretched lips. “One day Daddy is gonna teach you how to take him in your throat.”

Peter whined at that and pulled off of Tony, a trail of saliva left between them. “Please. I need it,” Peter begged, getting up onto shaky legs. Peter was sure he looked a mess, but Tony looked divine, like a god of debauchery.

Without another word, Tony laid down on the towel Peter had brought out earlier and looked at Peter expectantly. Oh.

“Get the lube out of my pocket,” Tony ordered, making an approving noise as Peter fished it out. “You know what you’re going to do?”

Peter shuffled his feet, trying to find something more interesting than looking at Tony in the eye.

“I know this position makes you nervous, but it is the safest one to keep the sand out. Besides, I want to look at my husband,” Tony coaxed, lazily stroking himself. Fuck.

“O-Ok…” Peter muttered, walking over to Tony and dribbling lube on his cock. He was still loose enough from earlier, allowing him to slowly sink down with little burning sensation. “Ah...oh…”

Tony purred, running his hands up Peter’s flanks and petting his stomach in a soothing manner. “I know, baby. You’re all full now, huh?” Tony whispered, pressing on Peter’s stomach to feel himself inside his boy.

“Oh Daddy...so full...you’re so big…” Peter whimpered, leaning back and grabbing Tony’s thighs for purchase as he began to ride Tony. Peter rolled his hips quick, lifting himself up and down, chasing his own pleasure. His movements were jerky, still not used to this position with his inexperience. Tony, ever the caretaker, took the lead and held Peter still to thrust into him.

“Take it, boy. I know you can. Touch yourself for me, show Daddy how good you feel,” the older man ordered, pulling Peter’s body down to meet his thrusts. The boy moaned wantonly and stroked his cock hard and fast.

Peter began to shake, his orgasm overcoming him. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Peter cried out, strings of cum shooting from his cock onto Tony’s stomach. He fell forward onto Tony’s chest and let his husband use his body as a cock sheath. It wasn’t much longer until Tony came inside of Peter, his cock pulsing so hard that Peter whined as it nudged his abused prostate.

It took a moment for them to catch their breath. Peter broke the silence.

“I’m so happy I get to have you the rest of my life,” he whispered into Tony’s graying hair, kissing his sweaty temple.

Tony chuckled and slapped Peter’s ass. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[lapixie]

Ten Years Later Chapter 2

Part 1

Chapter 2

Tony doesn’t go right to sleep. Instead he goes online, and he looks up everything! He learns about the last ten years the best way there is, by looking up all the gossip and news. He learns that they still have not perfected the flying car, but they did shoot one into space. What the fuck Elon? Simpsons was still playing. Supernatural went away, then came right back. They were on season 22 now. Destiel was still not a thing. 

Then he looked up his friends and family. Holy shit! Peter was gay...or well...bi...maybe pan? Whatever he was, he wasn’t straight. And the world knew that he was Spiderman? He didn’t go too deep into that, figured it would be best for him to wait for the kid to tell him everything about that. And actually, maybe it would be better for the rest of them to be the ones to give updates on their lives also. He finally falls asleep as the sun was coming up.

The next morning, everyone woke up to the smell of bacon, sausage, eggs, home fries and pancakes. Walking into the kitchen, they were all surprised to see Tony at the stove.

“Morning Mr. Stark, I didn’t know you could cook?” Peter asked, while adorably running his hands through his hair.

“Breakfast, the most important meal of the day!” He blustered, trying not to stare at Peters abs peeking out from where his t-shirt was rising up.

Pepper laughed out loud, saying “What he means is; Breakfast, you cook it for the girl you’re about to kick out so there’s no hard feelings!”

“Hey, no slander Pep! I did it to the boys too!” 

Peter choked on his coffee he had just taken a sip of, sputtering “Boys? Mr. Stark, I didn’t know you swung that way…?”

“Yeah, no sense being a playboy if you’re gonna limit yourself to only half the population!” 

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you? I didn’t think it would, the internet is full of photos of you with other people. Including Flash?! What the hell kid? Isn’t he the one who bullied you for so long?”

“People change Mr. Stark. The snap changed a lot of people. Some for the better, some for the worse. Flash was for the better. Also, it’s been a while since I’ve been a kid.”

Tony felt his eyes slowly sliding down Peter’s body, but snapped them quickly back up to meet his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Well, if you’re not gonna answer to kid anymore, you better call me Tony.”

With a hitch in his breath, Peter answered “Sure Mr….Tony. Might take some time to get used to though.”

They joined Pepper, Happy and Rhodey at the table, where the others had already started eating. They took turns filling him in on the people that had survived the snap.

“What?!” he yelled, “Thor got fat?!” He couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking of the handsome alien god with a belly of pudge. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

“Tony,” Peter gave him a stern look “It’s not funny. His whole planet was destroyed, then Thanos killed most of the survivors, including his brother, then his snap decimated what was left. We’re lucky he didn’t kill himself! Besides, he’s still badass and could beat you one handed.”

“Kid!” He cried, clutching at his chest. “My heart! I thought you loved me!”

“I do love you Mr. Stark. Which is why I would never lie to you. Thor would kick your ass.” He deadpanned.

“Hey, what happened to Tony?!”

“What happened to not calling me kid?”

“Touche. Moving on…so you went to Europe and met Quentin Beck?”

“Yeah, I messed up. I trusted him. I was in a really bad place. You, May, and Ned had all just been dusted. SHEILD was pressuring me to be Spiderman more than I was willing to at the time. I just wanted a vacation, ya know? But even that had some world ending, cataclysmic happening. By the time we thought we were done with all that, I was just ready to be me. Just Peter. So I gave Beck EDITH. The last thing you had trusted me with, and I just gave it away…”

Seeing Peter’s face so contorted with guilt and grief was breaking Tony’s heart. He couldn’t believe that he had had a hand in one of the worst times of his life. “Oh, kid, I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to handle that responsibility so young!”

With a quirk of a smile, Peter replied “It’s okay. I made it right. It was really bad for awhile though. Mysterio told everyone that I was Spiderman, at the same time he told them all that I was a murdering psychopath. With video evidence. Long story. SHEILD stepped in and proved me innocent, but I had already been outed. It was crazy for awhile. I was dating MJ and scared for her. The bad guys were actually the least of the problems. It was the paparazzi. They wouldn’t leave us alone! Plus, I was still having panic attacks from being hit by the train.”

“Excuse me?! What by the what now?!”

“Yeah, Mysterio was messing with my mind. Anyway, Everything finally started getting better, everything calmed down. Me and MJ decided we were better off as friends after a couple of years. I had my great gay awakening. Dated Flash for about a year, we were better off as friends too. And that’s about it for me. Oh, and while searching for a way to reverse the snap, I found a couple of cures, including one that let’s Bruce choose when he wants to Hulk out, and lets him keep his mind. Almost like an animagus mixed with wolfsbane potion? No? It’s a Harry Potter thing.”

“Wow. That’s...a lot. Pep, how about you? Tell me your last ten years have been a bit...tamer?”

“Well, I had a baby, then another, ran away to Paris to get married to Happy. It didn’t work out, but we’re still great friends.”

“What? Seriously?” That was...shocking to say the least. He always thought Happy was gay. And he didn’t mean in the...haha...happy way.

Pepper laughed. “No, but your face is priceless.” She said while rolling her eyes. “Actually, most of my time has been spent putting out fires started by Tony Jr. over here.” She pointed over at Peter.

“Hey!” Peter cried, with a hand over his heart, a fake wounded expression on his face. “I resent that! I’m much worse than him!”

Pepper gave a little half-smile, half-laugh that Tony recognized from how she used to look at him. Just yesterday for him, but apparently an entire decade for her. It was finally starting to sink in. He missed ten years of their lives. He missed seeing Peter grow up. Happy and Rhodey were grey. Pepper had wrinkles. They had all continued living their lives. Without him. And he couldn’t even be mad. He was gone! They couldn’t exactly pause time to wait for someone to get him back.

“Mr…Tony, are you okay?” Peter sounded worried. He couldn’t do that to the kid, not after everything he went through with EDITH. Because of him.

Shaking his head, like it could remove the thoughts from his brain, Tony smiled and replied “Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. Just jet lagged. That’s a thing, right? If you can get jet lagged from changing time zones, imagine my jet lag changing decades!”

Everyone laughed, just as he meant them to.

“So Happy, honeybear, tell me, did you find a mad passionate love for each other in the ten years I was gone?”

Happy and Rhodey rolled their eyes simultaneously, which just caused Tony to laugh more.

“See?! You’re already in sync!”

“Tony, shut up. I’m actually still happily single, and Happy is not so happily single.”

Happy elbowed Rhodey in the side, mumbling that he was fine.

“Happy, who broke your heart? Who do I need to reign the might of Tony Stark down on?” Tony was joking, but he was also totally serious.

“Careful boss, you reign your might, you’ll be taking on a certain Spiderman!” Happy chuckled, picturing this.

Tony felt something cold in his chest. Happy and Peter? No. Peter was his! Well, not his, his, but his protege! 

Peter was watching Tony, as if he was expecting him to laugh and say something like he could take him, but instead Tony just got real quiet.

“Don’t worry Tony, even if you went after Aunt May, I doubt I’d have to do anything! She’d tear you apart all by herself!” He would probably deny it to his dying day, but Peter totally giggled at that.

Tony’s head snapped up from where it had started to droop towards his chest, his eyes meeting Peters. 

“Aunt May? I thought he meant ...so it wasn’t you?” The relief Tony felt was immense. And completely inappropriate. It was none of his business who Peter dated. He didn’t even know the kid any more. Case in point, not a kid! 

Peter and Happy started laughing uproariously, so hard he thought they may just fall over.

“Me and the kid?! Are you out of your mind? He just got over his annoying never stop talking stage. And he relapses! Oh God, kill me if I ever even think about it! Also, uh, I’m straight, so…” Happy shrugged, like “what are you gonna do”?

“Yeah, Tony, no offense to Happy, but he’s not my type. If I wanted to be with someone who rolled their eyes and stopped listening anytime I was talking, I would have stayed with Flash.”

His eyes were warm as he said this though, like it was fond memories.

“Well Pete, if they don’t listen to you, that’s their stupidity. You were already one of the smartest people I knew, and you were a teenager at the time.”

Remembering the kid he was, looking at who he was now, made him sad. He missed so much of Peter’s life.

“Thanks Tony. Wish more people felt that way.” Peter was smiling while he said it though, so he could tell he wasn’t really upset.

“Okay well, for me it’s been less than 24 hours since you saw me last, so not much has changed.” 

As they cleaned up from breakfast, Tony couldn’t help staring at Peter. When he raised his arms to put dishes in the cupboard and his abs showed under his shirt. When he bent over to put the pans away, and he showed off his amazing ass. Tony could feel himself getting hard. He had to nip this in the bud.

“Okay Pete, I think I might go get reaquainted with the lab. Dum E, Butterfingers, and U must be missing me. And Friday has been suspiciously quiet.”

“It’s not suspicious boss! I’ve just been letting you get re-acclimated. I was being nice! Last time I do that!” For an AI, it was shocking how much emotion you could hear in her voice. She was the most sarcastic, loving, AI in the world.

“Friday! Baby! I’ve missed you!” Tony yelled with a big grin on his face.

“No you didn’t boss. It’s been less than a day for you. But I appreciate the sentiment.” She drawled. “Now, come, your kids have missed you.”

With that, the elevator opened and sat waiting for Tony. 

“Guess that’s my queue. Later Underoos!” He yelled, scurrying to the elevator, with his hands in a peace sign, hearing Peter yelling that he wasn’t Underoos anymore in the background. “You’ll always be my Underoos!” He called back with a grin. Man, it felt good to be back!

@stxrker-fan-xx

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer II: Project - Leviathan

I’d used my father’s Nibelungen gate to steal away with Johann for Hanami in Chizuru in the middle of the night, and felt much better for it. Johann had gone to Chizuru and sent me a picture as I instructed. I visualized the place in my head and stepped through the gate to be with him, wearing the blue and white kimono gifted to me by Caesar over a year ago. Chizuru was twelve hours ahead of Paris, it was the middle of the night. It was a lovely two hours in the sun and the glory of the flowers. Anjou was none the wiser.

Returning to my hotel room in the dark made it seem even more like a dream. My fingers ran across my lips. They still burned where Johann had kissed me. My body still reacted to the memory.

Master List

The room was huge and alien and it made it hard to get any sleep. I tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed. My thoughts turned back to my Chicago home, not to Cassell. That burned too, taking my whole foster family with it. It was the last place I’d truly felt at home. Ever since I left there, I’d never slept in so many different beds in my entire life. 

Back in January, Johann told me that after graduation he would find a place for us. I had thought it was just him being dramatic. He’d been upset and tired at the time he said it. But now as I lay in the dark, in strange surroundings yet again, I realized he might have been completely serious, that he picked up on the fact that we’d both been uprooted, and looking for a place to settle.

The sun came up and I was still tired. Dressed in a plush robe provided by the hotel, I spoke with Johann over video call. He was in an airport, preparing to return to Chicago.

“Do you know who you’ll be working with?” He asked.

“An Agent Robertson…” I yawned. “Sorry, still a little jetlagged.”

To this day, I was captivated by the strands of dark hair framing the golden eyes that peered over his dark glasses, his cool so-called expressionless face. It wasn’t expressionless to me any more. The subtle flicker of his eye lids, the inflection of his voice, the tilt of his head said far more than his words did. To me, they spoke to his quick wit and profound intelligence, the ability to sort and catalogue his thoughts to say and express exactly what he wanted to in a single precise motion.

“I know him. You’re in good hands.” Johann nodded his stoic approval. “He’s been with the Executive department for about fifteen years. His skill is called Desolation and will turn anyone who stands in front of him to solid rock to a distance of 50 feet. It’s an A-rank devastating talent I’ve only seen him use once. He’s also very conscientious and hardworking. He’ll keep the other agents in line.”

I rubbed my eyes and blinked. “Anjou said something about being concerned about the agents here.”

“There was a scandal about three years back. Robertson was assigned from New York to get a handle on things. But some of the people who were responsible for it still work there. I’d be cautious around the French Agents if I were you.”

“Noted.” I rested my chin in my hands. “Are you doing alright?”

His eyelids lowered and my heart skipped a beat at the ghost of a smile. My persistent worry for him never failed to provoke a reaction. “Don’t worry about me. I want you to have a good time in Paris.” The amusement left his face. “I mean it. You’re going to Fashion Week starting today. I want you to get lots of cute outfits and take pictures for me. Eat pastries at La Pâtisserie du Meurice par Cédric Grolet. Take pictures of those too. The pastries they make are very cute.” He ticked these things off as if they were a list of objectives on a mission. But that’s not what drew my attention.

What made me sit up a little straighter was his flawless pronunciation of the name of the bakery. “Johann… do you speak French?”

He tilted his hand back and forth, but didn’t comment. “I’ll send you a care package through Robertson. That way, you won’t have to worry about anything but having fun. Europe doesn’t have the same products that you’re used to.”

Johann had become well studied in the concept of black hair care. My braids and my curls were unique to me and he understood that these locks would accept no substitutions.

“I love you, Chu Zihang.” I said in Chinese.

“I love you, Bai Meixiu.” He said. “Call me again after Fashion Week. I’m interested in this mission of yours.”

“I have to get ready but… can I ask you something?” When prompted by a nod, I continued. “When you said you would find a place for us after graduation… did you mean it? What did you mean?”

He suddenly wasn’t meeting my eyes any more, a faint color coming to his face.

I explained, one hand running down a thin braid. “I was just thinking last night… how hard it was to sleep in so many different beds. It sounded nice to have a real home again. I think I’d like that.”

The color on his face suddenly deepened. “I’d prefer to talk about that in person.”

“Okay… I’ll see you again soon.”

*****

Apparently, the Paris Fashion shows themselves were so exclusive that you had to receive a personal invitation or be a member of the media to attend. Even so, the city was packed. Our ritzy accommodations were fully booked. The fact that we could stay where ever we wanted, eat wherever we wanted, and go to the shows all over Paris spoke volumes about the level of clout Anjou had. Never once were we refused entry, or had to wait. Our tickets of admission were immediately accepted by the staff.

He mingled about the immaculately dressed crowd at the show, shaking hands, giving hugs and leaning in to give little kisses on the cheek. He was introducing me to the people he knew. I suddenly realized that as the top student at Cassell, Anjou was showing me to his inner circle of friends, getting me acquainted with the top brass of Hybrid hierarchy throughout the world. Many were successful businessmen. Many were ancient families with a long history of wealth and power. Some were currently heads of state.

All of them were Hybrids.

I wore a long white dress with white gloves up to my elbows and a white fluffy hair piece in the shape of angel wings. It immediately attracted attention to me. I didn’t speak any French, but I didn’t have to to understand that they were very curious about Anjou’s little debutante.

We took our seats for the actual show. “Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing just fine my dear.” Anjou, holding his own glass of wine, smiled. “Ah… this never gets old.”

“Can we buy some of the outfits?” It was the first time I had asked to buy anything.

Anjou laughed. “So you’ve finally come around to Paris! Just point to whatever you like!”

I rubbed my hands together eagerly watching for anything cute that I liked -- that Johann might like. With sudden motivation, I found myself spinning in dressing rooms, feeling the fine fabric on my skin. My dancer’s physique was perfect for the French style and the women there had more than enough fun dressing me up for my own personal fashion show. There was even a photographer. A burly African man leaned over with a camera to take pictures of me pretending to be a model. I noticed a familiar emblem on his jacket. 

“You’re from Cassell!”

His bright smile glowed on his face. “Agent Robertson at your service!” His New Yorker accent was obvious.

My eyes widened. “They sent you to take pictures of me? Someone as experienced as you?” 

He smirked. “Heh. I’ve been following you two all over town. My assignment is to be your security detail… but discreetly.”

“Are the other agents here too?” I asked. 

“That they are. Once fashion week is over, you’ll be off to work.”

“Johann Chu says hello.” I swayed in the mirror, making my skirt swirl.

“That guy…” He flipped through the photos on the camera. “Tell him to come back to Paris so I can beat him at basketball again. Nobody else here play.”

I turned to him the moment he said that. “I play.”

His jaw dropped. “Well, well, well… this is going to be a fun assignment.”

My security doubled as paparazzi as I made my way around Paris. I hung out in the first Arrondissement, admiring the parks, the fountains, and the Louvre Museum. I stalked A-list celebrities and got Robertson to take photos of them for me.

All the photos were sent to my social media account at Cassell. Johann Chu liked every one of them. He left comments of which clothes I should take home. When I asked if he wanted a souvenir, he simply replied. “No, this is enough.”

The heat rose in my face. “Sweet talker…”

When it was time for me to leave the hotel, Anjou left a final message for me on a gold embossed perfumed card. “Congratulations on your first assignment. May it be the first in a long career.”

Under a bright spring sun, we traveled in a convoy of black armored vehicles to the safe house. Men brandishing AK-47s opened the gate to allow us in. We drove down a winding narrow road through a forest to the massive chateau. 

Robertson grew quiet and serious, constantly on his walkie-talkie, giving orders and receiving feedback and updating our position. He referred to me as ‘The Asset’. I was escorted to the heavy wooden door. It opened. Four other men stood before me. They were all European, in suits and sunglasses despite their being indoors. 

“Agent Lavigne, IT. Monet, Logistics. Blanchet, Security. Garnier, Security.”

The French agents. I nodded to them politely. “Nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte.”

Agent Lavigne, lowered his glasses to reveal bright green eyes. He was pale with freckles and a shock of red hair. “Allow me to show you where you will be working.”

My heels clicked against the marble tiled floor. There were columns and statues and art everywhere. We went up the stairs to a large master suite. “This room has all the amenities you need. Unless required, you should be able to stay here and not leave it. There is a balcony in the back for fresh air.”

“Not leave my room?” I asked in dismay.

“There is an extensive amount of work you must do here. Your playtime is over.” 

I pressed my lips together, glaring.

“Don’t antagonize her. Anjou said she needs to be kept happy.” Robertson immediately placed himself between me and Lavigne. I glanced between them, unsure of why there was this sudden tension.

Lavigne cleared his throat. “I meant no offense. My English is not that good.”

Lame excuse, I thought, but I nodded. 

“The laptop you’ll be working with is directly connected to EVA. Your task will be translation and interpretation of the text. Nothing more.”

“Why fly me all the way out here if I’m just going to work with EVA?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it have been easier just to stay at Cassell? What’s with all the security?”

“That information is unfortunately classified.” Robertson said.  Despite his serious demeanor, he smiled a little. “I will tell you this. Sometimes, Cassell doesn’t want to show it’s directly involved in a project.”

“Oh… … Okay…” I said. I nodded once in determination. “I’ll work hard!”

“We’ll leave you to it.” The two agents shut the door.

I jumped up onto yet another strange plush bed and opened the laptop. “Agent Meixiu!” I declared. 

Immediately, the machine registered my face and voice. It spoke to me in EVAs vocal AI. “Welcome. I hope your stay in Paris was enjoyable.”

“It was! So what are we doing here?”

“We’re interpreting and translating the draconic text found underneath the slums of Mumbai. It’s a densely populated place, but the ruins are accessible through the sewers. Wells dug by Cassell are reaching even greater depths.”

Pictures of the locations of the dig sites and maps flashed across my screen.

“Your initial assignment will be to translate this document. It is composed of 15,000 symbols, 5,000 of those are unknown draconic.”

“Five thousand?!” I whispered. I sighed. “Okay… Let’s get to it.”

“Your acceptance of the mission has been logged. Welcome to Project: Leviathan.”

The reams of draconic script opened themselves before me. There were so many unfamiliar words mixed in with familiar ones. One thing was immediately clear. These weren’t ancient chants, prayers or curses. This was a history, a record of actions. What was stranger was that the actions weren’t of a dragon, but of a human man.

I stood up and looked around the room. It would take me months to translate all this and I was not interested in spending that much time away from Johann. There were several framed pictures on the wall. I got off the bed and pulled down one. Then I fished out a permanent marker from my luggage and drew a time dilation rune on the wall. When activated, three hours here would only be one hour outside the room. I rehung the picture over it.

I would not need EVAs assistance. As a supercomputer, she could only make guesses based on available information, and that was not always accurate. I had someone who had direct access to draconic script and was a native speaker. She spun out from my dragon scale necklace, floating there.

Ielia, a version of me from another dimension, appeared like a glowing ghost in the room. “Please help me translate this?”

She gave me a solemn nod.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

A love that never leaves (6)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Buckets of fluff.

A/N: Bucky’s reaction to the story takes her by surprise, a poor old truck gets hot-wired, and Bucky uses an ax because if Steve can do it so can he. Here’s what happens after the reveal. After this chapter, things take a turn for the angsty (shocking I know), so please bathe in the fluff while it’s here.  

Tags are open, if you want on the list please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

Just like that, he offers his whole heart and she gives hers freely in return. Both know their world is dark and unforgiving, and this war could make liars of them both, but neither cares. To find love in this bleak life is a rare opportunity and the temptation is too strong.

Bucky kisses her one last time and rises to his feet. She watches him pause at her bedroom door to give one more crooked smile, and then the door is clicking shut and he’s gone. Alone again, she curls into a ball under the heavy blankets.

It’s hell, she thinks, to love a soldier.

Burying her face in the faded green pillow, her heartbroken tears fall fast and thick, soaking silently into the soft cotton.

*****

MISSION REPORT

LAST MISSION PARAMETERS RECALLED AND RE-ACTIVATED. APPROPRIATE TOOLS COMMANDEERED TO ADDRESS ISSUES AND SECURE ADDITIONAL SUPPORT. SECOND ATTEMPT AT CONTACT WILL BE UNDERTAKEN BEFORE PROCEEDING WITH FINAL PLAN.

He fingers the blunt edge of the tool. Scratches his temple with it and closes his eyes.

His whole body is shaking.

His whole body is sweating.

Now he digs that blunt metal into his temple until the skin splits. A thin line of blood follows the path of his jawline, dripping into his lap.

*****

Is it really any different than the morning he left? Orange flames dance in the fireplace, a comforting tune. The fire is soothing, but the silence is the opposite – thick, heavy, and colored with confusion.

Bucky sits in the armchair. Elbows propped up, one metal, one human, both digging painfully into his thighs, he keeps his face buried in his hands. There’s a dull throbbing in his head and for the first time he can remember, he has a fucking headache. The door in his head, the one that opens into the past when the memories come calling, is still shut tight. He can feel them behind it, pounding like a battering ram to break free, but nothing happens.

The door stays closed, the past stays hidden.

And he stays perfectly still.

The leather of her chair creaks as she rises to her feet, walking to the bookcase without a word. Dropping his hands, Bucky watches her select a fat novel from the bottom shelf. When she turns to face him, he sees her open it to reveal a hollow space - inside lies yet another small lockbox. Scrolling through the dial, she selects a series of numbers and it clicks open. Pulling free a thick packet of paper, she sets it gingerly on the coffee table and steps back to wait.

In front of him lies a pile of envelopes, cracked and yellowed with age. Raising wary eyes, he finds her watching at him, her posture rigid.

“I just threw everything at you. I’m sorry, Bucky. I don’t know what I thought would happen, maybe I should have told you in the beginning, but the last time we met you didn’t know, so I wasn’t sure at first and then I didn’t know how to say it and then time passed and it was so – it was nice to have you here and I didn’t want to freak you out and I know life is completely different now, neither of us are who we were during the war, you don’t – ” she breaks off, aware she’s rambling.

Shaking her head, she just stops. Stares beseechingly at him, waiting.

There’s his cue, the one telling him to speak.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes. He closes it, staring at her. Then he tries again – but his voice is gone. Shaking his head, he looks back at the letters.

“Okay,” she whispers, and he hears a catch in her breath. “Okay. I don’t – expect anything. You don’t have to respond. I can just – give you some space.”

She walks to the front door of the cabin and gathers her coat from the rough wooden peg. Hand on the doorknob, she looks back once more to find him hunched immobile on the couch, staring at the pile of paper, and her shoulders fall.

Cold air breezes through the door and then it snicks shut. Like always, Bucky is left with nothing but the echoing silence of his thoughts.

Long moments pass before he reaches for the letters. A thin, dirty white string binds them together and it takes several tugs to release. The paper crackles warningly under his fingers, a result of old age and frequent readings, and he handles them gently. Selecting an envelope from the top, he opens it carefully, unfolding a delicate sheet of paper.

It’s like an electric shock, when he sees the writing.

Faded letters spill across the page, narrow words in a firm backhand slant that Bucky recognizes. So many things about him have changed over the years, but his handwriting was never one of them. Through the decades it’s remained the same, unalterable as the blue of his eyes and that small bit of constancy was a weird blessing to his fractured sanity.

One sweep of the letters and there’s no doubt in his mind. They’re from him. That fact is irrefutable.

His eyes scan down the page, picking out snippets of text. Occasional words and phrases are redacted, inked over in swipes of black where the US Army got exasperated hands on his stories, but most of it is there.

And there, in the warm little cabin, the truth of her memories shines like a beacon in the darkness of his past.

February 27, 1944

…so damn cold up here. I had ice in places I’d rather not say.

I swear to god, there’s nothing I’d like more right now than to be back in your arms. Can’t stop thinking about our last night – the boys are giving me hell every day, telling me to stop mooning around, but you make it real damn hard to think of anything else.

Sure as hell won’t say it in front of those idiots, but I got to thinking the other night and I don’t know what it is you bring out in me, but I figure you’ll indulge me getting all sappy for a minute. That morning we headed out, I left something pretty damn important behind - so I’m asking you to hold real tight to my heart darlin. You stole it fair and square that day we met, and I know there ain’t a safer place in the world than in your hands. 

Stay warm and stay safe.

Love,

Jimmy

May 2, 1944

…and I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed so hard! We’d set up a row of bottles we found and were throwing Delilah around, trying to knock them off and G got a little cocky. Tried to throw it behind his back and it ricocheted off a god damn tree, hit him in the knees and knocked his legs out. He fell face first, got a mouthful of mud and I swear to god, we laughed for an hour. Every time I thought we were done, G got this look on his face, acting all high and mighty, and it set us off again. He recovered just fine, but his knees were bruised all black and purple. It’s good for him though, keeps him humble.

G says hello, by the way, and hopes you’re doing well.

And now the rest of them are hanging over my shoulder and asking if they can all come over someday and you can make them that potato soup you made for me, and I’m sorry, I promise I’ll find new friends when this damn war is over…

Love,

Jimmy

July 23, 1944

You know, the first thing I want to do when I get home, is go to one of those drive-in movie theaters. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them, they’re new in America, but it’s a real basic idea - there’s a big screen and you drive into a parking lot and watch a movie from the car. It sounds weird, but I went once and it was great. And good lord, the teenagers love it. They pretend to watch a movie and spend the entire time getting all frisky, and no one’s the wiser.

So, here’s what I’m thinking.

You. Me. A big box of popcorn and a couple bottles of Pepsi. It’s dark outside and once the movie starts, no one will pay us any attention. Maybe we watch the movie, or even better - maybe we don’t. I can’t think of anything I’d love more, than spending two straight hours kissing you. You’re already an addiction for me darlin, but add a little salt to your lips, and I don’t think you’ll ever get rid of me. We could steam up the windows, give those kids a run for their money. I can’t wait to show you.

You’re going to love it, I promise.

Love,

Jimmy

September 18, 1944

Morning Darlin,

I’m on watch and it’s early, suns not even up yet. Should be paying attention and I am (I swear!), but the stars are so damn bright and like everything beautiful in this world, they make me think of you. You know, I never understood how many stars there were until I got to Europe. Never saw much of anything growing up, the city lights were too much. Now though, I sit here, and there’s this – infinity, I guess – staring back at me and it makes me feel small. Like I’m this tiny thing in the universe and why the hell would the universe care about one more soldier with a busted conscience and too many kills to his name.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s okay, in the grand scheme of the world. I don’t need to be famous or remembered or anything. I’m okay being one of many, because there’s a big damn difference between me and every other schmuck out here sweating and humping through the mud.

That big difference is you. This thing we have, it keeps me going. Every damn day.

Your last letter came just when I needed it. Been real hard out here lately. More than it’s ever been. How the hell’s this thing not over? How’d the world get here? I don’t understand it. Never will. All I know, is that I’m so damn ready to hang up my gun and put this all behind me. No more killing, no more tramping through the rain and camping in the snow. No more sleeping with a gun in one hand a knife in the other. I know it does no good to complain and I don’t want to put it on you. Guess I’m just tired.

But you know, I’ve been thinking about the future lately. What life will mean when this thing ends, how we all move on. What happens next. Sometimes I can’t see much past the next mission, but god willing, I’ll see you soon. There’s something important I want to ask you and I need to see your face when I do.

Wish I was there with you.

All my love,

Jimmy

Bucky reads through 12 different letters. When he finishes, he starts back at the beginning and reads them all again.

These words, these promises - they turn him inside out.

On the surface, perhaps some of the words make no sense, but wartime correspondence is unique - no names, no locations, nothing permitted that could be an identifier if letters were intercepted by the enemy. So maybe Bucky doesn’t remember writing these specific letters, but history and common sense tell him enough.

Which is why certain things buried in those simple words are so important – they trigger the patchy album of memories Steve’s given back to him, and it all begins to make sense.

Particularly those names.

Delilah. During the war, it’s what the Howlies called Steve’s shield. Steve got all red and flustered when he grudgingly reminded Bucky, saying Dugan liked to joke it needed a pretty, fancy name, because ‘oh gee whiz boys, Captain Rogers is so pretty and fancy.’ Bucky still calls it that now and then, a muscle memory screech that bursts unconsciously forth when he’s diving to the ground, trying to avoid a vibranium concussion as Steve flings it around the room.

G. That must be Steve. It makes sense in the context. His middle name was Grant, and very few people would have known. It wasn’t released to the public until after his plane went down, so it would have been hard to decipher.

And god dammit all to hell. Jimmy.

Bucky Barnes was a blood-soaked legend throughout the European theatre, and his quirky name was instantly recognizable. But Jimmy - it was one of those silly things that popped up when half the Commando unit had the name James. A silly moniker, one only used for messages and mission reports.

Now here it is in another context. Exactly like Steve told him.

The strange thing though, is that even with these letters and her story and confirmation from Steve’s tales - there are still no memories of her that he can recall. Normally they come flooding back when someone hands him information like she’s done, but they’re still inaccessible in his brain and that fact sits bitter in his stomach. All he can claim are the tentative words offered from her heart, through these quiet recollections and worn handwriting scrawled across yellowed paper.

But the icy rock lodged in his gut begins to melt when it dawns on him.

Before everything, before he fell from that train, before his life crashed and burned, he had something. He had someone. He had a life and a future and a woman who loved him.

He was in love with someone.

His brain still refuses to show him the past, but his heart – that’s another matter. Like an iron fist, muscle memory grips him and the curtain lifts. It’s a god damn tragedy that he can’t remember her, that he can’t recall the feel of her lips or the scent of her skin or any of the words she must have gifted him in her letters. It’s a tragedy and he’ll never forgive himself, but in this moment, he realizes that it’s okay.

This is why his breath catches every time she smiles at him. This is why he felt his stomach plunge the first time she spoke. This is why her laugh sets his blood on fire.

Because his heart never forgot her. Not once, not for a single moment.

Against all odds, across the endless chasm of space and time, they found each other again. Maybe this is it. Maybe after all the shit he’s been dealt, Fate decided to lift her endless ban on allowing Bucky Barnes a measure of happiness.

Maybe Fate is giving them another chance.

Well if that’s the case, he’s sure as god damn hell not going to lose it.

“Shit,” he breathes, jumping to his feet. Flying to the door, he throws it open, panicked she’s somehow slipped away, disappeared and left him all alone.

And then he skids to a stop.

Wrapped in her fluffy winter coat, she sits huddled on the front steps. At the sound of the door, she stumbles to her feet and spins to face him. Her hands are clenched in tight fists at her side and there is such naked, desperate hope in her eyes. To be seen, to be loved.

To be remembered.

Bucky steps slowly onto the porch. Cautiously, as though he’s afraid she could shatter, he reaches for her. Burning hot palms lay gently on her frozen cheeks, wandering blue eyes search every inch of her face, and he hears her breath snap harshly.

He leans closer, lets gentle lips ghost over her forehead, over fluttering eyelids, over the tip of her nose, to the softness of her lips. Searching, searching, searching, searing the scent of her skin back into his brain. When he touches hesitant lips to hers, he feels her mouth open to him, and he drinks up her shaky breath with a contented sigh.

Pulling back, he looks into wide eyes brimming with fierce, terrified love. Without a second thought, he lays himself at her mercy and begs the forgiveness he should have requested decades ago.

“I’m here. I’m here now, and I’m so god damn sorry I took so long.” Rubbing his thumb lightly over her lips, he stares in wonder. His gaze roams hungrily over her face, drinking in the color of her eyes, the shape of her nose, the curve of her lips. Every detail he never knew he missed until suddenly he did. “I see you. I see all of you. Let me memorize it, I never want to forget again.”

In the next moment, her shoulders begin to tremble. Small tremors at first, until her whole body is shaking, her breath rattling in her lungs, and the dam breaks.

“Bucky,” she whispers and her voice cracks, the sob ripping from her throat. “Bucky.”

Gravity brings them together, two dying stars collapsing into each other. He folds her in his arms and in the steel cage of his body, protected against the world, she lets go and she cries. She cries for everything.

For her past. For Bucky. For the life they could have had and for everything they lost. For all the secrets and hiding and half-truths. For everything both of them have done. For the decades spent apart, the solitude she fell into, and the horrors he endured.

Tears pour out, great heaving sobs and she burrows into him, the first real taste of heat she’s felt since that barren Parisian apartment at the dawning of 1970. His hands rub up and down her back, and he hushes her softly, murmuring soothing words again and again.

“You’re okay, I’m here, I got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not letting go.”

Gently picking her up, he slips back into the warmth of the living room, locking the door against the cold night. Stepping carefully to the couch, he falls into the velvety cushions, hugging her close. She sobs seventy years of heartbreak against his chest, and Bucky rocks her, answering her pain with hot, silent tears dripping down his cheeks.

*****

The night crawls by, a full white moon traveling a slow arc above the small cabin, while he cradles her in his arms. In the final hour before dawn, he rises from the couch.

Emotionally drained, she fell asleep hours ago. Now, she curls into him as he carries her up the stairs to her bed. Unwilling to let go for even a moment, he keeps her tucked to his chest when he sinks into the soft pillows. In the depths of sleep, she hugs him tighter, winding herself around him.

Where does he end, and where does she begin? It’s impossible to define.

Her refusal to let go is fine with him. Bucky doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon.

In her sleep, she sighs in contentment, because for the first time in a lifetime, she feels warm. Safe and protected, she doesn’t need a pile of blankets.

Bucky is enough.

*****

Light filters through the tall evergreens outside her window and when she wakes, she’s surrounded by heat. Opening puffy eyes, she finds Bucky lying beside her, bright eyes calm and watchful.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

“Bucky?” she whispers, disbelief clear in her eyes. “You’re still here?”

He runs a light finger down her cheek. “I meant it. I’m not going anywhere.”

There they are, the words she’s wanted her entire life. She has no clue if they’ll fade away, but for now, she lets herself believe him, because hope feels so much softer than the black abyss of depression.

“You’ll stay?” she repeats numbly. Needing to hear the words one more time.

“I’ll stay,” he answers, his fingers still brushing her skin. “Long as you’ll let me. We have a love story to remember.”

*****

So, he stays.

Bit by bit, they begin to discover who they are now, after decades apart. Bit by bit, she offers small memories that he clings to with ferocious enthusiasm. Bit by bit, they find the new rhythm of a life together.

And bit by bit, they fall back in love.

*****

Gripping a mug of coffee between fingerless gloved fingers, she gives him a dubious look.

“Have you ever chopped wood before?”

“Nah, but how hard can it be?” Bucky shrugs, hefting the ax. “Steve said he did it. I can do it.”

He balances a chunk of wood on the stump and scrutinizes it from all angles, before choosing his approach. Lining up the blade, he takes aim and with a smooth swing, slices it neatly in two.

His eyes dance excitedly when he looks at her. “I feel like this could be cathartic. Can I keep going?”

She looks at the huge pile of logs stacked behind him. “Knock yourself out.”

He considers her for a moment and then stands up a fat log, twisting it to sit level in the snow, away from any bark shrapnel, but close enough he can see her.

“Keep me company?” he asks.

She plops happily on the log, savoring the image of his tall, heavily muscled form. “Anytime,” she says softly.

*****

“I saw in that journal, you watched the moon landing? Back in ’68?”

Her eyes light up. “I did. It was unbelievable.”

“Wish I could’ve seen it,” Bucky says wistfully. “Would’ve been so cool.”

“Yeah,” she says softly, “it really was.”

The ax embeds in the stump with a thwack and he wipes his forehead with his sleeve. He comes over to her and leans down, his mouth warm when it touches hers.

“You were right,” he admits. “I’d have signed up with NASA in a heartbeat, if I could’ve.”

“I thought you might,” she murmurs against his lips and he hums.

“Hey. Would you go up to space with me?”

She kisses the tip of his nose. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

*****

“Since you’ve come back, what’s the strangest mission you’ve been on?”

Bucky contemplates the question, while he searches for the perfect chunk of wood.

“Well, last year there was this one where a crazy ass botanist engineered this breed of super Venus Fly Traps that came to life.”

“A crazy what? No.”

“Dead serious. It caught me in the middle of the fight and broke its teeth on my arm,” he says, shuddering. “Got all this sticky saliva shit on me. So fucking gross. When I got home, I threw away all the plants in the Tower, you know. Just in case.”

She presses her lips together, but a fit of hysterical giggles makes her double-over, clutching her stomach.

“Cross my heart,” Bucky insists. He plants his hands on his hips and pulls a face. “I can’t believe you’re laughing, I was terrified!”

*****

“Tell me more things about you,” he grunts as he swings the ax. “Like for instance, why did you keep a bunch of t-shirts from Bon Jovi’s 1986 tour?”

Looking over to her, he finds her eyes comically wide. Deer in the headlights. He can practically see her mind racing while she debates the answer.

“Um. Okay, so listen,” she starts, and Bucky feels a silly grin beginning. “No, stop. I mean it. Bucky, shut up!”

Laughter spills out at her embarrassment.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I won’t laugh. I’m interested. Just wanna hear more about you. Continue. Please.”

Arms crossed, she sighs heavily and shoots him an embarrassed look.

“Look, it’s not that big a deal. I may have had a crush on Bon Jovi. Okay? It was 1986 and I loved that album and his voice was so sexy and he had this beautiful hair, and I just – you promised you wouldn’t laugh!”

She grabs a piece of wood and throws it at his leg and he laughs harder.

*****

After a long day of chopping wood, her shed is bursting at the seams. Warm and cozy on her couch, Bucky stares off into space, while she sits beside him, absorbed in a book.

“Did I get blood all over the seats in your truck?” he asks suddenly.

Wrinkling her nose, she glances up and gives him an apologetic look. “Yeah. You did. I need to get it cleaned. Or buy seat covers, so I don’t have to explain why it looks like a murder scene.”

“Ugh,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs good-naturedly and grins. “I don’t mind. Least no one will steal it.”

She goes back to her book. He goes back to spacing off.

“But you have another truck in that old shed, right? Didn’t I see one?”

“Yes, an old clunker from the ‘50s. It hasn’t run for years though.”

“Hmm.”

Bemused, her lips quirk up. “Any reason you’re asking?”

“Just thinking,” he mumbles vaguely.

He goes back to spacing off. She goes back to her book.

Two minutes later, he jumps up and she topples over into the cushions. Looking down, he rubs his mouth while she untangles herself from her blanket.

“Shit. Sorry. Got an idea,” he says, offering her a hand. Pulling her to her feet, he starts collecting the multitude of blankets strewn about the living room, folding them into piles. Tucking them under his arm, he heads into the kitchen, rummaging in the cabinet for a bottle of wine and two plastic cups. Striding over to the front door, he sets the pile down and grabs her winter coat, extending it out without a word.

“What is this?” she asks suspiciously, shrugging into the coat. Bucky takes a knobby wool scarf from a hook and helps her wrap it securely around her throat.

“Get your gloves,” he replies. “And those furry snow boots.”

Finally buttoned up, he appraises her from head to toe, satisfied with the result. Grabbing his own coat, he pulls it carelessly on, picks up the pile of blankets and wine, and opens the door.

“Follow me,” he says, heading down the porch.

Stomping toward the rickety garage near the cabin, he pulls open the doors and props them open. Sitting in the small space, is an old light blue Land Rover.

Bucky takes her puffy gloved hand and pulls her to the passenger side door. Opening it with a dramatic flourish, he nods for her to get in.

“It doesn’t even run, Bucky,” she argues, climbing up into the dusty seats.

Bucky goes to the driver’s door and slides inside. Giving her a grin, he flips the flashlight on his phone and hands it to her, lighting up the interior of the cab while he reaches blindly below the steering column.

“Any chance you got a screwdriver?”

“I do, actually,” she answers, flipping open the glove box to snag the wobbly screwdriver that went to die there years ago. But where it’s normally nestled, she finds only blank space.

She blinks. How strange. When was the last time she was even in this truck?

“No matter,” Bucky grunts, and with a few strategic jerks, he pulls the metal cover away. A nest of tangled wires falls loose, ribbons of white and red and yellow. She shines the light on his fiddling, and with a practiced hand, he selects several and strips the ends until they fray. Tapping them together a few times, she hears the sharp crackle of electric current and suddenly the ancient truck sputters to life.

“What? How?” she asks excitedly. “How’d you do that?”

Bucky grins and tucks the wires away. The gas gauge shows a nearly full tank, so he fiddles with the dials and cranks the heat up full blast. It smells like wet leaves and a hint of motor oil, but there’s a welcome nostalgia to the scent. Unfolding the blankets, Bucky wraps one around her shoulders, and spreads another over their laps. He situates her legs across his thighs and wraps an arm around her.

“Reading those letters, I saw I made you a promise. Said I’d take you to a drive-in movie. Here we are, seventy god forsaken years later, and I still haven’t taken you on a date. Seems overdue,” he thumbs through the video app on his phone until he finds an old favorite. Pressing play, he props it up on the dash and turns to her with a crooked smile. “This is my favorite movie. Thinkin’ you might like it too.”

The screen is blank and then a tornado of sound surrounds them and big white letters flash across a black and white screen.

“Oh,” she sighs delightedly. Humming contentedly, he drops a kiss to her forehead and she lays her head on his shoulder, while the opening theme from The Wizard of Oz begins to play. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes.”

“Well, that’s what I’m always telling people,” he agrees, his voice sweet against her skin. “I’m glad you agree.”

Watching the movie together is an experience. Bucky hums along to the music while she repeats the dialogue under her breath. The movie is clearly an old hat for them both, and the familiarity is comforting.

It’s not until Dorothy’s skipping down the yellow brick road in her sparkly red shoes, that she notices he’s gone quiet. Glancing at him, she finds blue eyes riveted on her. A slow smile spreads over his face, and he leans down to leave a featherlight kiss at the corner of her mouth; then the hinge of her jaw; then the smooth spot behind her ear.

“I thought we were watching a movie,” she murmurs, tilting her head to offer up the curve of her neck.

“But we’re at the drive-in,” Bucky answers, his lips tracing the shell of her ear. She shivers at the feel and tries to scoot closer. “This is what the kids do. They ignore the show and make out, right?”

“Yes, I think I read that somewhere,” she replies breathlessly. “A letter I had from a rather charming soldier. Some American, I think.”

Rubbing his scratchy face along her neck, he makes a disapproving noise and his teeth nip her ear.

“Charming American soldier, huh? What’s his name? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“No ass kicking.” She pokes him in the belly and he grunts a surprised laugh. “I sort of like him.”

*****

The truck still idles along, while the windows have long since fogged over. Dorothy makes it back to Kansas safe and sound, returned to a world of black and white. There’s no place like home, Bucky hears the voiceover in the background. Immersed in reacquainting himself with the taste of her lips, he agrees.

There really is no place like home.

*****

“Was it always like this?” he murmurs the next night. Laying face-down on the couch, his face is nuzzled in her lap, his arms wound around her waist. Cool fingers scratch lightly at his scalp and he rubs against her like a cat.

“Well, you were a little sappy sometimes,” she teases. “But I loved it.”

Muffled laughter rumbles deep in his chest and he hugs her tighter.

“This feels so easy. Never thought I’d get something like this.”

“Sometimes you get lucky, I guess. You fit with someone, like they were made for you. That was us.”

“I just wish I could remember.” Disappointment vibrates in every syllable. “All those years with Hydra, that shit’s coming back. Nightmares and — memories of what I did to people. I don’t understand why that’s there, and my stupid ass brain refuses to give me you.”

Her hand pauses briefly, before resuming the gentle strokes.

“I know,” she says, and Bucky hears the thread of sorrow wound through her words. “None of this was fair. You deserved so much more than what they did and I - I’m so sorry Bucky.”

“No, don’t. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He rolls onto his back and pillows his head in her lap. His expression is dark when he grinds out the words. “I just left you. Fell off a fuckin’ train and left you alone. I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

For the longest time, she doesn’t speak. Lost in thought, she gazes out the living room windows, fingers still absently stroking his hair. When she finally looks down, he sees ancient resignation in her face.

“Listen to me. I never want you to apologize Bucky, it was a war. I walked into loving you with my eyes wide open and I don’t regret a single day. I never have. You were worth it.” She pauses, and a strange look comes over her face, an odd blend of sadness and regret and - fear. It disappears as quickly as it comes, and her voice drops to a low whisper. “I’m full of memories. After all these years, after everything I - after being alone for so long. Sometimes I think I’ll drown from them.”

Drowning in the past. There’s a feeling he knows. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, he tugs her face down.

“Give them to me then,” he breathes against her lips. “I get it. Better than anyone. Remembering things, sometimes it’s a burden. You don’t have to do it alone. I’m with you now, let me help.”

The sentiment breaks her heart.

She says nothing. She kisses him instead.

*****

In the middle of the night, watching the stars wink through the window of her bedroom, she lays awake and thinks.

Bucky is sprawled on his stomach beside her, still dressed in his old sweats and his Captain America shirt. One arm is curved tight around her waist, a leg thrown over her knee, his deep even breaths warm against her neck. It’s funny, she muses. He sleeps the same as he did during their brief time together in 1944. With his nose to her skin and his limbs clutching her tight. Like her softness is the balm he needs to combat the horrors that come for him in his dreams.

It’s strange, in a way. He knows her more intimately than anyone on Earth. Emotionally. Physically. But even with a knowledge of what they used to be, he keeps a tight rein on his desire, nothing more than chaste brushes of his fingers that leave her restless for more. But while his hands may be innocent, his kisses still leave her breathless - they’re untamed, wild and enthusiastic, overflowing with passion. Before though, where his lips carried a hint of frantic panic, now there’s one big difference.

They have time. Something they never had before.

There’s no miserable march back into the suffocating arms of war. No desperate need to hide from Hydra after a stolen rendezvous in the night. Time is finally on their side, to rebuild his memories of their past, to create new memories together. An infinite world of opportunities sits before them and she revels in that fact.

Beneath it all though, remains that nagging flicker of fear.

Because as happy as she is now, she’s terrified of the future and the possibility it could all end once more. After finding him again, after slipping back into his arms, after falling in love again, she knows if he were to leave now? It would break her for good. There’d be no coming back from it. Life has stolen him from her too many times already.

This time, hope would not be enough to tether together the shattered remnants of a heart.

Shifting deeper into the pillows, he hugs her tighter. His lips brush her skin and he presses a sleepy kiss to her shoulder.

“Can’t sleep?” he mumbles groggily.

“Just thinking,” she whispers. “I’m okay, go back to sleep.”

Bucky hums in drowsy agreement and goes quiet. Minutes pass and his breathing resumes the steady pattern and she resumes her dreary train of thought.

What is it, about the middle of the night, she wonders drily, that makes your brain relive the worst parts of your life?

On and on it goes. The steady beat of his heart, the heat of his skin, the dangerous trajectory of her thoughts. Until his soft voice breaks the silence of the night, pulling her back to the present.

“Can you tell me another story? Another memory about us?”

Another memory. A simple request. Memories are the one thing she can always do.

“What do you want to know?” she asks, petting his tangled mess of hair.

“Everything. Tell me more of our love story,” he murmurs, his voice raspy with sleep. He snuggles impossibly closer. “I wanna know it all.”

I wanna know it all. An innocent request.

There are so many things she wants to tell him. Things she needs to tell him. But those words, those memories, they’re buried too deep and she can’t. Unearthing them would destroy her.

Instead, her mind weaves through their love story, pulling forward a memory she’s replayed a thousand times before. The memory of his one other visit to the village, right before their world went pear-shaped. She was hesitant to tell him about that night, about the question he asked, because she knows he’s not the same. They’re not the same and she doesn’t want him to think -

But her heart beats faster.

Twisting a lock of his hair around her finger, she gropes for the right words, his fingers stroking lightly down her arm.

I wanna know it all.

In the middle of the night, watching the stars wink through the window of her bedroom, she takes a deep breath.

*****

Next chapter

*****

Tags are open right now, if you want one, please send me a DM or ASK.

[kotsume]

hi i’m back from the dead (tumblr gave me my blog back)

hi i said i’d post this tomorrow but i lied and couldn’t help myself.

first off, happy 2019!! it’s been nearly a year since i’ve seen y’all!!! how are you guys? i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who supported me and i am so thankful for you all.

i have a full explanation under the cut and i would really appreciate it if y’all read it!!

also, i think i’ll reblog this a couple times sorry ik it’s annoying

now, a lot of people i talked to/talked about me kept thinking i was terminated. to be clear, @kaijohs was not terminated, but suspended. they are 2 differnet things as there’s actually a spot in support for terminated blogs :)

i could log into tumblr and go on my dash, check out my activity and drafts, but could not like/reblog, add to drafts/queue, edit drafts, view my inbox. this only happened to @kaijohs, all my other sideblogs (like @fyeahvioletevergarden​) functioned normally and i could still do everything i normally would on them.

for some idiotic reason, tumblr still let me create new sideblogs ????????????? it doesn’t really make sense because that’s the reason why i was suspended in the first place but okay tumblr you do you i guess.

okay so:

i had saved, unused urls. those urls consisted of my old ones and my future urls. i tend to change my url every couple of months or so. anyone who’s been following me from the very beginning can tell you that i had a url change about 6 times over the course of 2 years. so yeah, it is safe to say i’m an indecisive girl who can’t stick to one url (but i think i’ll stick with kaijohs bc i love it).

tumblr must have done some random search bc you can’t report it? i didn’t see an option for it, so feel free to correct me and show me if i am wrong. anyways, i ended up getting suspended over it even though i was keeping most, if not all, of them updated. there are many users on tumblr with hundreds of urls, selling them for money, and i got suspended bc i was unlucky. not much i could do about that.

i am NOT saying i didn’t deserve it bc it was my fault for breaking the rules, but i deleted the urls as soon as i read the email and was STILL suspended for 11 months (february 27 2018 - january 22 2019). verbatim, tumblr said “Let us know when that’s been done so we can restore your access.” i sent them at least 2 emails every week through support in the first few months, as well as replying to the original email they sent me. it didn’t really do much. one time they decided to responded to my email (not one of those automated “support request received” emails, but an actual follow-up email), they completely missed the mark.

imo 11 months was overkill.

i don’t know if they actually read the things people send in support, but i have a feeling they don’t (it’s probably just bots tbh) because no human with a job is dumb enough to respond like that if they read the original request.

–

i thought a lot about starting over from scratch and making a new blog because i honestly did not know if i would ever get @kaijohs back. i’m just so happy it’s back now ^^

–

so what exactly happened during my suspension? i…

- turned 18 !!! - became a stressed out university student (major: biomedical sciences) - made many gifs to post - lost my queue* - read lots of manga - watched a lot of anime - went to europe for 3 weeks >>> france, italy, and england - lost 1.5k+ followers on @kaijohs (rip nearly 34k) - found lots of people reposting/copying my gifs :) - cut off my long ass hair wooo - distanced myself from tumblr for the time being - found someone i want to spend the rest of my life with

*i had ~100 queued items and posts just disappeared in groups idk where they went nor do i have an explanation for what happened except that tumblr deletes posts in your queue when you’re suspended.

–

oh yeah here’s a funny story: i tried calling a (false) tumblr support number but it turned out to be a scammer, and when i asked the person on the other end of the line if this was a scam. the guy told me to press the windows key and R, which raised flags for me. then he yelled at me, telling me to do my research before i accuse him of scamming me because apparently i “didn’t know anything”. i didn’t need to do research when i had Common Sense *insert that rainbow spongebob meme* backing me up… why would i need to run a new program in order for him to unsuspend me on tumblr? then he hung up after lashing out on me.

–

i will be posting a lot of darling in the franxx gifs btw. sorry woops zero two is still the best girl ever

also, as much as i am happy to have my blog back, i’m a little concerned with how i’m going to manage school + my life + gifmaking. i really do miss it, but i get easily stressed and overwhelmed, but i hope i can work something out because i want to continue doing what i love!! 

–

if you’ve made it this far and actually read all this shit, ilysm, you’re amazing, and have a wonderful day~

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

The Way We Were Supposed To Be - Ch Two

HUGE ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!!!

Title: The Way We Were Supposed To Be

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Stucky

Rating: Lemon

Tags: minor character death, there will be smut, slow burn… I think that’s it really.

Summary:

    Two years after defeating Thanos, Steve finds himself faced with a harsh reality. Because of his decision to stay in the past with Peggy and finally give himself the life he thought he had always wanted, Nick Fury returns to face him with a daunting truth. With the world’s timeline in disarray, it’s up to Steve to return to the past and restore the world to its natural order. Unfortunately it means that the all American hero has to sacrifice his heart and soul to save the world once again. And although Steve thinks that his one chance at a happy life had passed, who knows what the new future holds, perhaps… everything he had been searching for was right there all along.

AO3 Link

Masterlist 

A/N: Soooooo yeah, like it says at the top, HUGE ENDGAME SPOILERS!!! So if you haven’t seen the movie yet turn back now and read this later!!

    And for those of you that have seen the movie already and who are reading this, you're awesome and I hope you like it. This is just my way of getting the satisfying stucky ending that I was really hoping for that the movie didn’t quite deliver for me.

    So yeah, if you do like this I would be so so so grateful if you gave this a reblog or even a comment, and if you want to be tagged for this or future works let me know!! Love you guys and enjoy <3 <3 <3

Chapter two:

    Not exactly knowing where to go, Steve drove aimlessly through the streets of New York, eventually finding himself making the all too familiar hike down to Washington. By mid day he made it to the bustling city and parked his car in a mostly empty parking lot. Following the path up the small hill, he weaved his way through the seemingly endless grave stones before coming to the one he was looking for. For the second time in three days he was staring down at Peggy’s grave.

    “Oh, Peggy,” he whispered into the breeze now picking up, “I'm sorry we could never truly be together, but it has to be this way. I couldn’t let the world run an unnatural course and I know that if you knew the consequences you would have done the same.”

    The wind chose that moment to blow through at a fierce strength and he smiled to himself as he continued, “Exactly what I thought.” He knelt down and placed a hand on the stone, closing his eyes for a moment before whispering, “I wish with everything I have that I could have kept that life with you, Peggy. It’s the only thing I have ever wanted, but I know that you had a happy life with your husband, and your kids, and I can only hope that someday I’ll find that happiness too. I know it’s what you’d want me to do, to move on. And maybe Fury’s right, maybe I’ll find happily ever after this time around. Third times the charm, right?”

    Steve laughed wholeheartedly this time as the wind blew through the cemetery again, this time hard enough to slightly push him off balance and away from Peggy's grave. “Alright, I'm going!” He stood and gave her grave one last look, “But no matter what, Peggy, don’t you forget that I’ll always love you no matter what.”

    Before he left he blew a kiss to her grave and followed the now gentle breeze out of the cemetery and got back in his car.

~~~~~~~~~~~     With no where else to go Steve made the trek back to New York and eventually made it to the compound gates. It took a year after Thanos destroyed it for the land to be levelled out and the building to be rebuilt, all thanks to Pepper who funded it all in Tony's honour. “He would have wanted it this way,” she had said back then, “for you all to have a place to call home no matter what. This was always his dream, and I want to make sure it stays alive.”

    For the year while the compound was being rebuilt, Bruce was working on a different project of his own, rebuilding the time travel device. And for that year while Steve waited, he and Bucky had rented a two bedroom apartment downtown. At this point, he wasn’t quite sure where he belonged right now. Since he changed the time line and now changed it back his house with Peggy no longer belonged to him, and he wasn’t sure if he still had a place with Bucky after leaving him behind for another life. Till the end of the line had once seemed so true and so final to them both, yet Steve was realizing now that he had been quick to throw it away, without even considering Bucky’s feelings on the matter. Steve couldn’t exactly expect Bucky to welcome him back with open arms. And as for the compound, he wasn’t sure if he would even be granted access after two years away, but what else could he do.

    When he pulled up to the security pad by the gates, he held his breath, and reached a hand out his window. Luckily his prints seemed to still be in the database and the gates opened letting him inside. He parked in his old space and walked inside. It was quiet, he seemed to be the only one there. He walked through, peeking into the rooms he knew some of his fellow Avengers had once occupied, and it seemed as though they hadn’t been lived in for a long time. Dust had settled in most of the rooms and some seemed to have even been emptied of all personal belongings.

    Wandering a bit further in he finds himself in the main control room. He slips himself behind the desk and pulls up a screen in front of him. He taps on the light blue hologram a few times and eventually finds what he wants. He's happy on one hand to see that the avengers still check in with updates on their GPS locations, but on the other hand is also quiet disappointed to see that over the last two years everyone seems to have once again gone their separate ways.

    Clint remains on his family farm, though that one doesn’t surprise him. Wanda seemed to have made her way into Europe, Banner was still at his lab, the kid was back in Queens, T’Challa home in Wakanda, Thor wasn’t even on the map, Sam still remained close to the compound, but the one person he wanted to find he can’t. Bucky has no location on the map, and even searching his name brings up nothing on the screens.

    With a hard sigh Steve pushes back in the chair running a hand through his hair. How could he blame him though? Steve left. He left Bucky without so much as a warning or a promise to return. Steve remembered how he had felt back in their time when Bucky was leaving for the war. He knew there was always a chance Bucky wouldn’t come back, but there was always the promise and the hope of a safe return for his best friend. He hadn’t even granted Bucky that much when he decided stay back with Peggy. So, if Bucky had gone off the rails and erased himself from the grid once again, Steve would only have himself to blame for that.

    Not wanting anymore disappointment for the day he turns the screens off and leaves the room. He heads out to the common room and sits himself on the couch in front of the TV. He takes up the remote and absently thinks to himself that he's alone here, no one lives here or has lived here in a long time, so at the very least he should be fine to stay since he currently has no where else to go. The place belongs to Pepper now anyways, so if anyone does show up and has a problem he can always talk to her. And if she decides that it’s time for him to move on, then so be it, he did this to himself after all.

    Trying to push the idea of loneliness out of his mind for the time being he decides to just watch a movie, but before he can turn the TV on he hears the whoosh of the front doors and a familiar excited voice travelling through the halls.

    With a slight burst of excitement rushing through his chest at the possibility of maybe not being so alone after all, he pushes himself off the couch and rushes to the front doors, and his eyes widen as he sees who just walked in.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Man, that assassin didn’t know what hit him!”

    Sam was nearly bouncing as he followed Bucky back into the compound. When the doors closed behind them Sam jumped forwards and shook Bucky’s shoulders, “Come on, Bucky, at least show a little emotion here. We just saved the god damn president.”

    “Did you properly park the jet this time?” he instead asked Sam without looking at him.

    “You know I did,” he answered as he released his shoulders, “it was one time man, and I only ruined one flower bed before we stopped it.”

    Bucky managed to let go a small almost inaudible chuckle, “Yeah, and when Pepper got the alert she nearly killed you. Quite frankly I'm surprised she didn’t.”

    “Yeah, me too…” he cringed thinking back to the pure rage on her face, then took a few quick steps to catch up to Bucky, “Where you going? Wanna hit the gym and burn off some of this adrenaline?”

    “Naw,” he still refused to turn back, “I'm going to bed. Wake me up if someone else is about to die.”

    With a sigh and a shake of his head Sam decided enough was enough. This had been going on for too long and he had already vowed to himself that he would not lose another friend. “Bucky, stop!” He did, but remained still with his back to Sam, “When is this gunna end man? You sleep all day, barely come out of your room except for an emergency, I don’t think you're eating… he's been gone for two years Bucky. He wouldn’t want this from you-”

    Sam’s stopped dead when Bucky suddenly turned and violently stormed into his space, gritting through clenched teeth, “Shut up! You have no idea! You have no idea how this feels, what I’ve lost!”

    “I think I know more then you think I do,” Sam answers with a sad knowing look.

    “Then you know I can’t just move on like you did!” Bucky backs up slightly, out of his face, “After everything we’ve been through now he's just gone, lived a life without me and I can’t ever get him back. It wasn’t the job, it wasn’t death that took him from me, it was worse, it was time and age. There’s a lifetime between us now and I wasn’t in it!”

    “Bucky…” Sam breathes.

    “Just stop,” Bucky shakes his head, “I just… I can’t do this without Steve. I want him back but I can’t… I can’t have that.”

    “I'm sorry man,” Sam sighs, knowing there’s really nothing he can do or say to help.

    “Whatever, I'm going to bed, so just leave me alone.”

    Sam watches as Bucky turns slowly with his eyes glued to the ground at his feet before something catches his eye. The shape of a man coming around the corner, and at the thought of the compound being empty for nearly a year and a half now, he instinctively reaches for his gun but stops when he sees who it is.

    “Bucky!” he calls out.

    “I said let me go, Sam.”

    “No, Bucky stop!” he calls with more desperation this time.

    Bucky stops and turns on his heel, annoyance etched clearly on his face when he looks up at Sam and shouts, “What, Sam?!”

    Sam shoots him a winning smile which confuses the hell out of Bucky, and if anything else makes him more angry. He's about to completely snap when Sam just looks around him. Bucky scrunches his brow at the odd movement but slowly follows Sam’s eyes as he turns, stopping dead when they land on the target.

    He feels like his whole world has stopped spinning, his hears are ringing, and his eyes are so watery he can barely see. He wants to move his feet and surge forwards but he can’t, they suddenly feel like lead bricks weighing him down, and his voice seems to have suddenly betrayed him too.

    It feels like a lifetime of standing there before he's finally able to croak out one single word past the extremely large lump in his throat, “Steve…” barely comes out in a whisper.

    It seemed that Steve was having the same symptoms as Bucky since all he could do was nod, eyes just as wide and wet as his own. But that simple gesture seemed to awaken something in Bucky, as if the response was proof that this wasn’t another dream turned nightmare when he woke up and realized Steve wasn’t really there. But when Steve answered him, even though no words were exchanged, it was enough for Bucky to finally move his shaking legs and run full speed the rest of the way down the hall, a desperate, “Steve!” leaving his lips as Steve too began to run at him.

    The two crashed together where they met in the middle of the hallway, both immediately tucking their heads into the others shoulder. When he finally had his arms around him, pressing him as tightly to his body as he could no matter how much it hurt, Bucky knew this was real. Steve was here, in his arms, back where he belonged. And when Steve was finally able to whisper into his ear, “Bucky,” he closed his eyes and sobbed into Steve's shoulder.

    Sam watched it all unfold before his eyes and couldn’t express in words how truly happy he was in that moment. Steve was back, he didn’t know how and quite frankly didn’t really care at the moment, but he was back and he knew that Bucky would finally be okay. He was grateful for that. This would be the end of his worrying over his friend, the last one he really had left after everything went down, and as a plus he got Steve back as well.

    When he realized the two weren’t going to let go of one another any time soon, he gave a nod and started walking past them. He stopped briefly to give Steve's shoulder a pat, Steve's arm reaching out briefly to grab at his as well, before it was quickly returned to Bucky’s back, Steve not wanting to let him go any time soon. With one last look at them, Sam continued into the compound and towards his room, leaving them in the privacy they deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 A/N: So thats chapter two, finally we see Bucky!! More to come, let me know what you think XD

Tags: @goingknowherewastaken @kdcollinsauthor @pessoaslily @tiffyfromtw @acrushedrosestillwins @wizzardhowl @buckybarnes-is-my-child-help-him @julie130201 @kittycattycatherine @meanoldmomma @fabinapercabeth4179 @butterflymess @lucaimboreddd

 If any one else wants to be tagged just let me know!!

[longlistshort]

Silver Jews- Random Rules

I first heard about David Berman and his band Silver Jews a while ago, as they were one of those bands you heard about if you were a Pavement fan. But sadly, I never got around to listening to them until now.

Stephen Malkmus and David Berman went to the University of Virginia and later moved together to Hoboken, New Jersey. There Malkmus, along with their other roommate Bob Nastanovich, played with additional bandmates as Pavement, and together with Berman they formed the Silver Jews, although Berman soon remained the only constant member of the band.

When I discovered that David Berman had passed away and read the many quotes from his songs posted online by friends and fans, I finally spent some time listening to his music. There are just so many great lines in these songs. For instance, from Random Rules, posted above- “In 1984, I was hospitalized for approaching perfection/ Slowly screwing my way across Europe, they had to make a correction”. It’s a funny opener and the whole song is filled with quotable lyrics. Towards the end are the lyrics “I asked the painter why the roads are colored black/ He said, ‘Steve, it’s because people leave/And no highway will bring them back’.” So many of his songs are like this, the humor mixed with the pathos.

Silver Jews disbanded in 2009 and Berman quit making music for awhile. In 2011 he started a blog. In May, ten years after he stopped making music, he released the album Purple Mountains. The lyrics to the songs on this album, including the one below, are poignant, made even more so after his death. In a recent interview with Exclaim!, he discusses each song off that album.

Purple Mountains- All My Happiness Is Gone (song starts 2:06)

He also wrote poetry, and this poem, from his book Actual Air, is just so incredible I’m presenting it in its entirety (via poemhunter).

Self- Portrait at 28

I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled by sunlight when the entire hill is approaching the ideal of Virginia brochured with goldenrod and loblolly and I think "at least I have not woken up with a bloody knife in my hand" by then having absently wandered one hundred yards from the house while still seated in this chair with my eyes closed. It is a certain hill the one I imagine when I hear the word "hill" and if the apocalypse turns out to be a world-wide nervous breakdown if our five billion minds collapse at once well I'd call that a surprise ending and this hill would still be beautiful a place I wouldn't mind dying alone or with you.

I am trying to get at something and I want to talk very plainly to you so that we are both comforted by the honesty. You see there is a window by my desk I stare out when I am stuck though the outdoors has rarely inspired me to write and I don't know why I keep staring at it. My childhood hasn't made good material either mostly being a mulch of white minutes with a few stand out moments, popping tar bubbles on the driveway in the summer a certain amount of pride at school everytime they called it "our sun" and playing football when the only play was "go out long" are what stand out now. If squeezed for more information I can remember old clock radios with flipping metal numbers and an entree called Surf and Turf. As a way of getting in touch with my origins every night I set the alarm clock for the time I was born so that waking up becomes a historical reenactment and the first thing I do is take a reading of the day and try to flow with it like when you're riding a mechanical bull and you strain to learn the pattern quickly so you don't inadverantly resist it.

II two I can't remember being born and no one else can remember it either even the doctor who I met years later at a cocktail party. It's one of the little disappointments that makes you think about getting away going to Holly Springs or Coral Gables and taking a room on the square with a landlady whose hands are scored by disinfectant, telling the people you meet that you are from Alaska, and listen to what they have to say about Alaska until you have learned much more about Alaska than you ever will about Holly Springs or Coral Gables. Sometimes I am buying a newspaper in a strange city and think "I am about to learn what it's like to live here." Oftentimes there is a news item about the complaints of homeowners who live beside the airport and I realize that I read an article on this subject nearly once a year and always receive the same image. I am in bed late at night in my house near the airport listening to the jets fly overhead a strange wife sleeping beside me. In my mind, the bedroom is an amalgamation of various cold medicine commercial sets (there is always a box of tissue on the nightstand). I know these recurring news articles are clues, flaws in the design though I haven't figured out how to string them together yet, but I've begun to notice that the same people are dying over and over again, for instance Minnie Pearl who died this year for the fourth time in four years.

III three Today is the first day of Lent and once again I'm not really sure what it is. How many more years will I let pass before I take the trouble to ask someone? It reminds of this morning when you were getting ready for work. I was sitting by the space heater numbly watching you dress and when you asked why I never wear a robe I had so many good reasons I didn't know where to begin. If you were cool in high school you didn't ask too many questions. You could tell who'd been to last night's big metal concert by the new t-shirts in the hallway. You didn't have to ask and that's what cool was: the ability to deduct to know without asking. And the pressure to simulate coolness means not asking when you don't know, which is why kids grow ever more stupid. A yearbook's endpages, filled with promises to stay in touch, stand as proof of the uselessness of a teenager's promise. Not like I'm dying for a letter from the class stoner ten years on but... Do you remember the way the girls would call out "love you!" conveniently leaving out the "I" as if they didn't want to commit to their own declarations. I agree that the "I" is a pretty heavy concept and hope you won't get uncomfortable if I should go into some deeper stuff here.

IV four There are things I've given up on like recording funny answering machine messages. It's part of growing older and the human race as a group has matured along the same lines. It seems our comedy dates the quickest. If you laugh out loud at Shakespeare's jokes I hope you won't be insulted if I say you're trying too hard. Even sketches from the original Saturday Night Live seem slow-witted and obvious now. It's just that our advances are irrepressible. Nowadays little kids can't even set up lemonade stands. It makes people too self-conscious about the past, though try explaining that to a kid. I'm not saying it should be this way. All this new technology will eventually give us new feelings that will never completely displace the old ones leaving everyone feeling quite nervous and split in two. We will travel to Mars even as folks on Earth are still ripping open potato chip bags with their teeth. Why? I don't have the time or intelligence to make all the connections like my friend Gordon (this is a true story) who grew up in Braintree Massachusetts and had never pictured a brain snagged in a tree until I brought it up. He'd never broken the name down to its parts. By then it was too late. He had moved to Coral Gables.

V five The hill out my window is still looking beautiful suffused in a kind of gold national park light and it seems to say, I'm sorry the world could not possibly use another poem about Orpheus but I'm available if you're not working on a self-portrait or anything. I'm watching my dog have nightmares, twitching and whining on the office floor and I try to imagine what beast has cornered him in the meadow where his dreams are set. I'm just letting the day be what it is: a place for a large number of things to gather and interact -- not even a place but an occasion a reality for real things. Friends warned me not to get too psychedelic or religious with this piece: "They won't accept it if it's too psychedelic or religious," but these are valid topics and I'm the one with the dog twitching on the floor possibly dreaming of me that part of me that would beat a dog for no good reason no reason that a dog could see. I am trying to get at something so simple that I have to talk plainly so the words don't disfigure it and if it turns out that what I say is untrue then at least let it be harmless like a leaky boat in the reeds that is bothering no one. VI six I can't trust the accuracy of my own memories, many of them having blended with sentimental telephone and margarine commercials plainly ruined by Madison Avenue though no one seems to call the advertising world "Madison Avenue" anymore. Have they moved? Let's get an update on this. But first I have some business to take care of. I walked out to the hill behind our house which looks positively Alaskan today and it would be easier to explain this if I had a picture to show you but I was with our young dog and he was running through the tall grass like running through the tall grass is all of life together until a bird calls or he finds a beer can and that thing fills all the space in his head. You see, his mind can only hold one thought at a time and when he finally hears me call his name he looks up and cocks his head and for a single moment my voice is everything: Self-portrait at 28.

There is only so much time to read, listen to, and see all the wonderful things people have created. David Berman made work well worth spending some of that precious time on.

Rest in Peace.

[bookreviewsbykay]

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Things this book promises: witty banter in the eighteenth century in Europe. Things I've gotten so far at 52 pages in: the main character is crushing hardcore on his best friend and hates Paris.

I'm already enjoying this. I've decided that I'm going to read a couple of chapters and update this review as I go along. Like a tag-a-long book review. It works for me and saves me the trouble of remembering a whole book after I've already started another.

Back to my thoughts: So Monty, the main character, is going on a tour of the European continent with his best friend, Percy, and his sister, Felicity. Its supposed to be the "last hurrah" Monty has with his best friend before Percy goes to law school and Felicity goes to a finishing school. However, Monty can't spend this trip in a bottle and debauchery because his father has threatened to disinherit him for his playboy ways. The only reason Monty's father means it this time is because of Monty and Felicity's baby brother.

Did I mention that Monty has a two year long crush on Percy???? No? Whoops...

So Monty and Percy finally get a night out to themselves in Paris and they get drunk. Not too drunk. But drunk nonetheless. They kiss.

And Monty being the dumbass he is, doesn't admit to Percy that he means the kiss. *insert a facepalm here please* So, as expected, things are awkward between Monty and Percy... like real awkward. Also, Monty's a dick. Douche. Meanie. (whatever you want to call it)

So, while at a Party in Versailles, Monty sneaks off go a Duke's room (a Duke he just previously insulted, mind you) with a girl and gets naked. Then upon being caught he jumps out of the window and dashed through Versailles with no clothing on. And runs into the outskirts of the party. Felicity and Percy chew him out and the party is over.

Did I mention that Monty stole something from the Duke??? No? My bad. Anyway, upon leaving Versailles on the way to Marseilles, they get set upon by "highwaymen". (NOTE THE QUOTATIONS) And now Monty, Percy, and Felicity are without a carriage and finish the trip to Marseilles on foot.

Once in Marseilles, they have to wait for the next day for the banks to open because they're going to go to their father's bank. Since they have to wait, they try to find a place to settle for the night but they narrowly escape the "highwaymen". We, the readers, find out Percy has epilepsy when he has a seizure.

We also find out that the Duke himself is after the box Monty stole. And the box doesn't belong to the Duke, or the king for that matter. The box actually belongs to an alchemist who studies the cure-all side of alchemy.

So, Monty, trying to avoid Percy going to an asylum for his epilepsy, convinces them to travel to Spain. To return the box. Also, he apologizes to Percy. (I really do hope the he has some character development soon)

They stowaway on a ship after being denied passage for Percy's skin color (remember the time period this is set in folks) then that boat gets captured by pirates who aren't really pirates. Monty saves all their asses with his brilliant acting skills. And they arrive in Venice.

Monty and Percy finally talked about their feelings. But it went south when Monty didn't want to give up his lifestyle to run away with Percy. Then Monty gets drunk and captured.

Now, the Duke and Monty and Helena are at the sinking island for the cure-all. Percy and Felicity show up with the key, opening the resting place of Helena's mother.

Felicity opens the woman up and takes out the heart, the cure-all. She hands it Helena, Monty is being held at gunpoint by the Duke, and Helena offers the heart to Percy. (Monty said he wanted it for Percy earlier in the book but didn't say why) Percy, bless his little heart, doesn't want it even though it works. So Helena throws the heart into a fire and the island starts to sink around them.

The Duke stupidly stays behind trying to save the melted scraps of the alchemical heart. Helena takes her boat and sails away while Monty (who's been shot), Percy, and Felicity row to the pirate's ship.

Monty ends up having his ear shot off, burns along his face, and no hearing in his right ear. After learning a very harrowing truth about his father, Monty decides he wants to stay away from his family home, with Percy in tow.

The End

Overall, Monty's character growth is highly believable. It's very refreshing to have a main character understand his faults and start working towards making himself better. He doesn't completely become a whole new and improved Monty through the book. He works towards it .

Percy is a good side character/love interest who also grows as a person. He already had a very different perspective on life because of his skin tone but he learns what the rest of the world is like. He learns that he can be better a person too.

Felicity stays very much the same throughout the novel. She is stubborn and very arrogant whenever possible. She's smart and clever, but the only character development you see of her is that she learns to accept that she isn't always right.

[caomhainnmacmhaoirn]

Double Crossing

The streets were bustling with commuters heading to work. It had been a cold wind overnight which brought with it the purest snow to cleanse the sight of the dirty and ugly pavements. It was the coldest day since Hitlers tanks had reached the city and so many good men were lost in the name of the Rodina. The Kremlin was starting to fill with office workers who helped the country run as best as they could. The secretaries were on time but for one of them, their bosses were already at their desk, preparing themselves for the long day ahead.

The elder man was now in his 60’s and had long been in the Russian intelligence but he was promoted to the job by his like-minded former colleague and friend. It was his connection to the President and his undoubted military expertise and experience of working in the KGB that got him the job he was in now. The job which meant he was in charge of all intelligence operations across the globe and occasionally had to update the President, like he was about to do in a quarter of an hour. The chatter of people in the corridors was now noticeably loud and things began to feel like a normal day for the Director. He stood up and took his jacket from the back of his swivel chair, he checked his tie in the reflection of the window. “I don’t think I’ll be more prepared for the briefing,” The tall, grey haired man said as he swung his suit jacket around and slipped it on. “Do you have operation summaries ready, Dima? Thank you.” He took the folder in his hand and left the room.

The SVR Assistant Director was running towards the office of the President. Michail Libonov, his superior, the Director of the SVR was heading into a meeting with the Russian President and would have wanted, no, needed to be told about what had happened. “Get out of my way,” Dima yelled as he weaved between secretaries at the bottom of the stairs. Fucking lazy idiots, he wanted to say but that was not important right now.

Bolting up the stairs he could hear Agency Executive Libinov talking, “Micha, wait!” Chernyshevky shouted. “Don’t go in just yet.” Michail Libinov angrily turned around to see a panting mess desperately trying to reach him. Libinov was no spring chicken himself but he demanded that he and his staff lead by example in physical terms.

“What is it now, Dima?” The SVR Director said, as he hung up his phone.

“It’s Adrian, he’s not called in!” Chernyshevsky claimed, hunched over his hands on his knees and gasping for air. “Chief of Station Hong Kong has reason to believe he has defected.”

“Fuck,” The SVR Director said with his head in his hands. “He was supposed to bring an asset over to us from those bastards today!”

Libinov looked at Cherynyshevsky, who was starting to stand upright and straighten himself out.

“What do you suggest Dima?” Libinov said. He knew his deputy didn’t have an answer, Adrian Norin was the best agent they had in China. There was no indication that he may go over to the other side, at least nothing obvious.

“We can’t get to him now, Michail,” Chernyshevsky said. “At least not until we can figure out what the Chinese want to do with him.”

Libinov took his eyes from Chernyshevsky and looked along the corridor to the door he would be going through in a few minutes to break the bad news to the President.

How am I supposed to break it to him? It was the last thought he wanted to have before a meeting with his boss. The President of the Russian Federation was the person that Michail Libinov answered to. He had grown close, in the years since the Berlin Wall fell, with the former KGB Officer. They both had been posted in East Germany for a few years but at different times, they got to know each other better when they turned to politics in the nineties.

“That man will expect answers or my resignation!” Libinov thought out loud. “I can’t give him one and and I don’t want to give him the other.”

“Tell him the truth, Michail.” Chernyshevsky said. “Tell him Adrian has gone but we already have people looking to put a plan in place to get him back dead or alive.”

It was the only option anyway and Libinov knew it. He wouldn’t be allowed to carry on in his job if he didn’t do something about Adrian Norin.

“Fine, but tell Hong Kong to get a fucking move on with a plan and I want it on my desk by the afternoon.” Libinov sighed.

“Yes, sir!” Chernyshevsky saluted and returned to his office.

What a nightmare! Libinov tried not to think of all the things that could possibly happen to him in the President's Office. Litvinenko and Navalny… He wouldn’t do that to me, would he? He turned and walked the corridor, it had grown in length by a million miles since he found out about Adrian’s defection. When the SVR Director got to the President's door, he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. He straightened his tie for the fifth time since leaving his house that morning and took a deep breath before knocking.

Argyle Street was buzzing with people enjoying the sunny day. As vibrant as anywhere in the world, Adrian Norin enjoyed seeing people go about their business happily and peacefully. It isn’t always the case in Hong Kong in recent years particularly with the protests but as time moves forward Hong Kong wanted it to go back to when it had freedoms. Freedoms like they had under rule of the British until 97.

He found the little fast food restaurant he had heard all about from his asset whom he was here to meet. Jollibee, was like a Chinese version of the British Little Chef, much better looking though, he thought. He ordered and took a seat, away from the window, he ate his chicken and looked around like any normal tourist might in a strange place. He wasn’t any normal tourist though, Adrian was an SVR Intelligence Officer based in Hong Kong, he was on the run from his own people and he knew it wouldn’t be long before they realised that he was. He had made his checks on the people around and was satisfied nobody knew who he was, he relaxed a bit more and took a sip of his drink. He decided to enjoy his meal, Liu won’t be much longer anyway, he prayed trying not to look at his watch.

The opening door caught his attention and he flicked his eyes up to see who it was. It was him, his old friend, a tired looking man but as bright as any man Norin ever met, Liu Wei got him out of a bit of trouble when the two were assigned together on a mission in London together several years ago. The Chinese Intelligence Officer sat down across from Adrian without ordering, “How are you? You ready?” Liu asked hurriedly.

“Yes, I only bought this to look like I wanted to be here.” Norin replied.

“There’s a car around the corner, I had to sign it out from the Ministry,” Liu said. ”I made sure I wasn’t followed, but it won’t be long before they realise I’m not coming back.”

“I know how you feel, let’s get going before this brit gets cold feet and leaves without us, Liu” Adrian said.

The two men got up and left the table with the tray of food on it and walked around to Shanghai Street past other restaurants and shops. One always checking around them while they made it to the car. It wouldn’t take them long to get to Victoria Harbour but even then they would still be in trouble. Although they were meeting a British spook they were getting on a merchant boat for Macau and had to somehow get off the boat and onto a British submarine. As they headed south Liu Wei was silent for the whole trip till the Sky100 tower was in sight.

He was wondering what he had done for almost all of his adult life until he realised that he wasn’t as firm a believer in China and it’s Party as they wanted him to be. All these trips to Europe and he didn’t even begin to think how much his fellow countrymen did not know about their Government.

Liu parked the car and the pair got out when they saw their British contact walk from the pier. The middle-aged woman looked like a professional of some kind in a smart suit and her glasses. Adrian was amazed that females did this sort of thing but more amazed that at her age she still had a youthful look despite the greying hair. Emma Green had been with MI6 for 15 years after her time as a Language Specialist and a teacher around Europe. She had made contact with Adrian when Liu brought information to her attention last week. It was a quicker turnaround for an extraction than she had expected but that was to everyone’s advantage.“Glad you both made it,” she said, “I’ve heard that both of your agencies have already got men on the lookout for you so we better get moving.” The merchant boat left as soon as they got on board, and took to the China Sea as fast as it possibly could.

Adrian stood looking back at the harbour thinking about what he left behind, but he could make out the noise of a commotion that was going on in the car park. Two Chinese men were pushing their way through the crowded pier with a group of men behind them, Secret Police!, he thought. “Just in time Liu,” he shouted back over his shoulder to his friend, who was talking to Green. “How quick do you think they told their Navy?”

“Could easily have got the word to them by now but would they be ready to do something?” He said. “Maybe, if they were already aware something was going to happen.”

Emma grabbed Adrian by his sleeve, “We need to get you guys ready for the next part of the plan,” she said. “We’ve got wetsuits below for when you go overboard but wear them under your clothes.” Emma introduced them to the Captain and they went down below to get ready.

Emma was talking to the Captain when Adrian and Liu came back up on deck. “So you two, I need to know a bit more detail about what you both know so I can pass it on to London before you leave,” She said. “Norin, we already know that the Russians have been involved in hacking during elections but what exactly have they been doing?”

“We have got an asset in the American’s federal system who works on the electronic voting systems,” Adrian said, begrudgingly. He trusted Emma but he hated this interrogation when they knew they were getting the info they needed. “He has been in America for a long time and worked his way up but I won’t reveal his identity until I’m in Britain, Emma.”

“That’s fine, but does this mean he’s going to hack the elections in November?” Green asked.

“Yes, the President wants the old man to win because of his views on international politics and his divisive effect on the country,” Adrian huffed. “He really loves that mad man.”

“Not so surprising, but we can verify it with the yanks when we get you back home,” The MI6 woman turned to Liu. “What about you? Who did you say the target was?”

Liu was looking over the side, back at Hong Kong, “It's the Hong Kong Ambassador to Britain. She is the target and I believe they have someone ready to do it,” he said. “The Ambassador is to meet at a dinner in a hotel next month. It’ll be then and it will look like one of your own has done it.”

“Oh god! Hong Kong would implode and the Chinese would pick up the pieces,” Green said. “That’s smart of them.”

“Right now tell us why we needed to wear clothes over our wetsuits?” Adrian asked.

Adrian poured a coffee in the Captain's small office and sat down with Liu. The coffee wasn’t helping his nerves but there was nothing else in the cupboard. “When do you think it will happen?” Adrian said. “It can’t be much longer now.”

“Emma must have wrong information,” he pointed at the clock on the wall opposite the door. “That noise is annoying me, you think the Captain would miss it if I throw it out of the window?”

Adrian cracked a smile, it was the first time he had something to smile about in a long time. “This reminds me of London,” he said. “Did I ever thank you for that?”

“No, you can buy the first vodka when we get back to London though.” Liu laughed, slapping Adrian’s shoulder.

They stopped laughing as they heard him shots above them. Adrian reached into the Captains drawer and threw a handgun to Liu. It wasn’t what they were used to in their training with the SVR and the Ministry of State Security, but it wasn’t the worst guns they had ever had. Liu opened the door and peeked out up and down the corridor, people were running about and shouting between bursts of gunfire. They made their way aft, towards the closest stairs to the upper deck. A shout behind them in Chinese made Liu turn back as a bullet hit the light above them. Returning fire, Liu dived behind a corner as Adrian had found cover in an empty dorm on the other side of the corridor.

Adrian had a better view of the gunman behind them, he signalled with his hands for Liu to go to the stairs. The Chinese gunman came out from behind the wall to get closer but Adrian had luckily come out at the same time and fired. He caught the man in the chest with one of the three bullets he shot to let Liu get to the stairs.

They got to the top and out to fresh sea air the darkness of the night made it difficult to see where the Chinese had come from. Shouting and gunfire was still continuing above and below deck but they were taking more fire as they ran towards the bow. Liu tripped over a loose rope on the deck and dropped his gun. “Fuck!” Liu shouted as gunfire hailed upon them from behind. “Liu, come one, get up!!” Adrian shouted as he ran back. He helped his friend up and he thought he spotted something out on the port side in the dark waters. Another bullet ricocheted on the metal railing as Liu got to his feet and began to move. “Fuck it, let’s get off, Liu.” Adrian shouted. Liu ran to the railing and climbed over to jump off, Adrian Norin was about to follow him when he saw a gunman ahead of them pull the trigger on his handgun. “LIU, NO!” He yelled as he jumped over the rail to take his friend with him. In an instant they had hit the water.

Adrian was in pain, his shoulder had taken the bullet that was destined for Liu. He could sense the Chinese Intelligence man beside him but there was someone else with them. The person had got hold of him and was handing him something. It was an oxygen mask, he was being given oxygen from this person. Is this man British? He wondered. Liu was being helped away by someone else too. They continued to swim underwater sharing oxygen with their escorts back to the submarine.

Eventually they came up to fresh air about two clicks away Adrian could see the merchant boat they had just come from and he could hear Liu behind him getting on top of the sub. “Make mine a large vodka, Liu!” He yelled as he climbed up on the sub too with help from his British saviour. Liu laughed and threw his arm over Adrian’s good shoulder. “Only the good stuff for you!” He said with a chuckle.

[amieyhko]

crawling out of an unofficial hiatus

dec 2019

My dearests,

I promised myself I'll never write another massive six-months update, but here I go. I've still yet to become a manager over time. When I came back from my month-and-a-half missions stay in Europe, I really thought I'd write more reflections. Some call it distractions, I call it complacency, others call it denial — whirlwinds of labels are easy — and real identities are misplaced when I don't intentionally ruffle through the beauty that can be clearly seen through speaking with God. But I'm not here to condemn myself, and definitely not here to just speak poetic theories of why I haven't been sending out update letters. Shortest excuse would be: life has been (and still is) full. Long excuse:

During the short and efficient talk back in April with Danny oppa where we decided on my going to Hungary, it has also been decided that I would be attending the Bread of Life Training Institute in the near future (I just realized how ridiculous the program title sounds, but it's more or less a bit like a Bible School with a dash of BSSM or YWAM kinda thing but also maybe not — I honestly have no reference point for this, but sometimes I feel like I'm back in Morrison). We never agreed on an "exact when" until he messages me on a random sunny May day to say he has decided for me that I'll attend this coming September. I don't know if I was happy or shocked, I mostly saw it coming. We're that close.

My stakes have been pretty low since I've graduated uni: no hugely important job, no significant other, no pets, nor any ground to hold. Maybe, I kept it that way because running away from Taiwan is all I've ever dreamed of since I was six. It's a big paradox — every time I leave, it's not the place that I miss, but those who are rooted here. Is Taiwan home? Yes. Is Taiwan home? No. I feel rootless (it's a comforting notion, really) so asking me to attend a school for a year where my heart is rooted but feet are itchy honestly sounded a bit dreadful. I agreed on it, yes; but nonetheless irked by the idea that I'd be planted, just for a long-ish while.

September came slowly as jet lag left me. I slowly began to forget the rush of mega-fast escalators in Europe and the ones here felt fast enough. Enough — I am. It still felt like a cosmic joke. I was neither bitter nor excited for this year of Bible School, but God always likes to give me a knock in the head. The last evening of orientation, Pastor Jon firmly said every soul attending this year was here for a reason. It wasn't the way he said it, but something in the atmosphere felt reassuring. This year-long adventure is going to be full of goodness, growing pains, and the is's: the non-not-goods.

To detail out the plethora of realizations I have been experiencing the last few months would take another thirty paragraphs. Most of lot of these lessons are still being answered through extremely wide-open questions, maybe I'll write about them as they come to their own semi-colons.

I think I've explained myself enough by this point, I know I'm placed so strategically. Every inch of me knows that God is good and I chose to rely on this factual feeling.

AND NOW, WORLD TRAVELLING NEWS TIME:

I will be living and working as a "missionary" in Budapest, Hungary from June 2020 to June 2021. This information has been confirmed for quite some time but now, it is finally official. I've decided that being a missionary is just a title and label that I will not be daunted by — I refuse to let all past experiences of growing up as a MK to limit the journey God is leading me to. The details and description of my year-long commitment will be announced soon in another update. Please just keep me in your prayers. I'm also seeking financial support for this long term mission. If you feel led to support me financially, please contact me for more details.

Before my yearlong trip, I will be making a little trip to Nairobi, Kenya in March. Every Bible School student is required to go on a mission trip and Kenya was on the list of options. I partly chose Kenya because I couldn't wait to check another continent off my list and mostly the testimonies from last April's trip were wild. I hope the encounters this time would be just as ridiculously outrageous. I know it is a privilege for me to be on this team. We are dubbing this team as the 2020 Super Team. There will be 150+ members from different Bread of Life churches across the world. We'll be there to partner up with a local school in the slums set up by a missionary couple. I'll take part in Children's Ministry and teach the lovely young souls about stewardship and management through games, crafts, and simulations. I am oh-so-excited about seeing the school that has been talked about so much over the past months. I am expectant for God to work miraculously once again. I also hear I'd be waking up to the sight of giraffes and zebras everyday, praise God for nature. I chose Kenya despite the fact that one, it was the most expensive option, and two, I have almost nothing in my bank account. Sometimes I really wonder if I am truly crazy. But when God says "Come" I don't know how to say "No." There is this confidence deep within that God will pay for all of these expenses that I am incapable of conjuring up at this moment. I am the most spoiled princess there ever was, spoiled and thick-skinned in the most innocent, non-assuming yet expectant way — I will wear this title like a crown. For this trip I need to raise around 70,000 NTD (~2,300 USD). I believe that our God is generous and some of you my dearests reflect this nature wholeheartedly.

Please do support me in any way you feel led. I am also finding ways to become more business-savvy with my talents so I can actually support myself once in a while.

Thank you for sticking so close in this journey with me — even the thought of you reading through this letter gives me courage.

Super belated happy holidays and so many well wishes for you in this new year

Love, Amie Ko