#also did this when he ran into an old friend he knew a good 70+ years back

[heybiji]

Where did the scars on Dande comes from? Especially the nasty one like on his neck and arm

AAA thanks so much for the question, I love getting to talk about Dande!!

Currently, only one person in the party (Clover) knows about the extent of his scars but not the story behind them, so I can't delve too deep into them yet. But he's been around for a long time (over a century, at the least) in a pretty tough world, so he's accumulated a lot of scars over the years. in short, though, he's had his throat slit, and he's been on fire (his arm). as soon as he talks about them more I assure you I'll be running here to share the stories here too!!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 12

James “Bucky” Barnes + Drool/Spit

This is winter soldier Bucky, so imagine he’s wearing that half face mask he wears in the movie. Hes wearing a mouth guard under it, google says that’s what it’s called. Im also taking canon, and throwing it in the toilet for this.

No outright smut in this, cuz it felt a lil weird to add it, as Bucky kinda sees the reader as a very nice and comforting handler. Readers an Avenger 🗣️

2024 kinktober masterlist

Maybe dressing up as a hydra agent wasn’t your… best idea. But hindsight was twenty-twenty. Steves friend was locked up in a hydra facility near where you had just been for a mission, and you knew he was planning a whole thing to get him out. You also knew that it would be a shitshow if it went his way, did he really think it would work just not telling people? It was a good thing Steve was hot, because sometimes his head was full of dirt.

You hadn’t honestly thought it would work, alright? You just assumed you could sneak in, maybe get some info from their tech, see where they kept the winter solider, and get out of there. The documents had said he would be frozen down, so of course you almost shit yourself when he was wide awake and staring at, the same way a starving dog looks at a steak.

So maybe you tucked him under your arm and just ran outta there. Okay, it wasn’t that comedic. You just used your best “hydra bastard” accent and lingo, and somehow got the winder solider, Bucky? Was that what Steve called him? To follow you out. He seemed almost willing, which didn’t make a lot of sense, since well. You were dressed up as a hydra agent.

You just hadn’t counted for the fact that he would see you as his new handler. This was what you were thinking about as you were sitting on the couch in one of your safe houses. One you had bought, not shield or Stark. You loved Tony, you did, there was just something nice about an apartment that wasn’t bugged from hell and back.

Looking down at the winder soldier- you should start calling him Bucky. At Bucky kneeling by your feet. The moment you got home you changed into something more comfortable, just some sweats and an old t-shirt you stole from an ex who’d been a huge baseball nerd.

“so, uh… Buck..y? what do you wanna like, do” you awkwardly said, scratching at the stubble on your chin from the uneasy tension you felt in the air. Feeling you nuzzle against your knee almost made you jump right out the seat. The yell was choked down before it became a reality as you looked down, frows furrowed in confusion as he just seemed to… nuzzle you.

Hesitantly you reached a hand down, approaching him with the caution one would a feral dog on the street. His pale eyes were kinda creepy, with all that eyeblack smudged around them like that, and how they just laser focused on every little movement you did. Bucky’s hair was oily and uncomfortable as you ran a hand through it. Couldn’t really blame the guy though, could you. you couldn’t imagine hydra was the nicest people to work under.

Bucky seemed to arch into the touch when he realized you weren’t trying to hit him, a choked raspy noise leaving him as his eyes almost rolled all the way back. Hadn’t Steve said hydra had this guy for, like, 70 years? Then you guessed it wasn’t weird for him to ache for any kind of human touch. Youd seen Tony after he was brought back from the cave he was kept in. hed been so touchy but also flinched away from everything. And that was just 3 months, you couldn’t imagine what this guy had been through.

You hadn’t thought about how you were rubbing Buckys head as you mulled over your thoughts, your second hand reaching down to rub his ear and rub a thumb across his cheek, right above that mask of his. You also hadn’t noticed the way his eyes seemed to droop, pupils blowing wide as he leant all his weight against your leg, or how something wet was seeping into your sweats.

It took a while for you to finally come back to yourself, having gone on some long tangent in your head about trauma and how to deal with this guy before you could bring him back to the tower. Looking down you had wanted to apologize, only to see how Bucky looked like he was in heaven, slumped against your knee and eyes barely open a crack as he melted under your hands. The big spot of drool on your leg made you realize how long you had been sitting like this.

“Fuck, uh. Sorry dude, didn’t mean to space out like that” you chuckled a bit dryly, finally pulling your hands back, your heart giving a lurch as he let out a raspy noise. There wasn’t much voice behind it, but it felt like one of those scarred fighting dogs trying to whine. It was… kinda cute in its own way, even if it came from the winter solider of all people.

“That things probably real uncomfortable, huh?” you mumble, eyes landing on that mask of his. With little though behind it, you reach down and carefully search for the release mechanism. It took longer than intended, with Bucky trying to nuzzle into your hands whenever they came close. God this guy was touch starved, hopefully the team would know what to do.

A soft amused huff passed through your lips as you finally got the mask of him, strings of drool hanging from his parted lips against the inside of the material. “Drooly boy, aren’t you” you joked, only for Bucky to let out the faintest of whimpers as he tried to nuzzle against you again.

As he panted with parted lips, you could spot what looked like some kind of cover on his teeth. Had hydra tried to silence him in another way? Was that why he didn’t talk, or was it all trauma? You hadn’t thought about your actions much before you found yourself carefully pulling on his jaw, Bucky leaning his head along as he simply let you do as you pleased.

Bucky let out a louder pleased noise as your fingers slid into his mouth, his tongue rubbing insistently against your fingers as if he was exploring. With a shaky exhale you carefully moved your fingers around, trying to grab onto what was covering his upper teeth. The entire time Bucky seemed more interesting in licking at and sucking your fingers. The movements were too messy to be hydra trained, at least that could help a little on the guilt it made you feel.

Spit was rolling down his chin, Bucky not even seeming to think about swallowing it. With a little struggle, you finally got whatever was covering his teeth off, Bucky trying to follow your fingers as you pulled away, finally realizing that it was a mouth guard. Thick strings of drool hung from the mouth guard and Bucky’s lips and pink tongue, making you shudder.

There was no way you were gonna go down that road, not with how messed up this guy was. There was also that whole thing that he might think you are his handler, so that was something you would explore. Instead you put the mouth guard to the side with his mask, and used your sleeve to wipe all the spit and drool of his face, mumbling soft scoldings at him as Bucky tried to lick you again.

“Lets just go get you cleaned up, alright?” you finally sigh after having to pull your hands to yourself, after he tried to catch them in his mouth again. Bucky seemed more than happy to follow you as you lead him into the bathroom, starting to take his outfit off before you even said anything.

Instinctively you wanted to scold him for just doing that, but seeing him step into the empty bathtub and look at you with those softer, but still blank eyes, made your chest ache just a little more. The shower took a while, with you having to scrub his hair multiple times. You caught him drooling during the entire process, as if he didn’t have full control of his bodily functions. You also saw him get hard, his cock pink and twitching, oozing its own fluids from what must be the first pleasurable touches in years.

You didn’t do anything about it though, instead helping him dry off and wiping his chin as he kissed softly at your palm, like his own way of saying thanks. “You’re welcome. Come on, I’ll get you something to wear” you mumble out, voice softer and more careful as you lead him to your bedroom and find something that’ll fit him.

It was a struggle to get him into bed, the man clearly uncomfortable with how soft it was and unsure of how to lay. Bucky only seem to lay still when you laid down with him, and he only settled after you let him take your fingers into his mouth again.

The action of just sucking and licking put him in a much calmer state, Bucky’s eyes drooping as he melted against the pillow, even as he still stared at you with such intensity. Seeing him fall asleep so easily after everything made it bearable that he was suckling on your fingers and soaking your pillow in drool. You would figure this out, one way or another. Even if it meant letting Bucky drool all over you until you did.

[satureja13]

The Nerd and the Jock ;) Disclaimer: This is the whole (kind of short) story of Jeb and Giga/Saiwa until now. ~ 7 scrolls with 8 pictures. I felt the need to put everything in one place before we continue.

Jeb had been attracted to extraordinary Giga for quite a while. But he was always too shy to make an attempt. It was the time shortly after Vlad drank from Ji Ho when Giga needed a place for Ji Ho to stay (because Ji Ho and Vlad needed to be separated). His first thought was to ask Jeb.

Jeb was so reliable and sound in these hard days for Saiwa. It did something to him. As being the oldest, the weight of all decisions and the care for the others with all their hardships, lie on Saiwa's shoulders. To have someone he could rely on when he was at the end of his strength after Vlad's death was such a relief.

To start a relationship after only a short time flirting and under these circumstances wasn't a good idea. But Jeb was so good looking under his bag. And tall. And the muscles... (Why Jeb calls Saiwa 'Giigs' is explained -> here) Shortly after Vlad's death the unthinkable happened: Jeb fell in love with Jack right before Giigs' eyes right after Vlad's death! What a nightmare!

They broke up. Jeb couldn't forgive himself. And Giigs was broken. This happened just one day after Giigs opened up to Jeb and felt confident and strong enough to return back to his old self which he had buried deep down below after his horrible experiences in the Lab. But they stayed friends and even though it was awkward, Jeb was there for his Giigs when he needed him. Jeb even accompanied Giigs to knock on DEATH'S door. And when they went to San Myshuno to find out what had happened to Vlad's body. They were still crazy for each other but due to their diffycult pasts, they found themselves not worthy to be with the other. Jeb's thoughts -> here. Giigs' thoughts -> here

At the end of the year they met again in the Tavern at Mount Komorebi. Jeb knew what Giigs feels for him and decided to end this by writing down what he did in his past (and why he wore that bag on his head!) and why he is not worthy to be with Giigs and left.

They didn't see each other for weeks and no one knew where Jeb was. They found him in Strangerville at the Diner, but he ran away again. It was almost two months later when they met again at Belgraves Institute. Giigs was finally able to tell Jeb that the two kids he tried to rescue had been Jack and him. And how much he had helped them to stay sane with his attempt to get them out there. But Jeb only could think of that he failed to rescue the love of his life... And Saiwa still thinks he is tainted after the cowplants at the lab had eaten him up alive and spit him out and that Jeb deserved better. He also is insecure if his 'dressing habits' are disturbing for Jeb (they aren't!)

After the 70s Party they talked it out and came to the conclusion, that they first have to accept and love themselves before they can start all over again. They also had the same dream in their first night at Belgraves Institute (which is told to come true). It is -> here

To be continued...

And when it rains you're shining down for me And I just can't get enough And I just can't get enough

Just like a rainbow you know you set me free And I just can't get enough And I just can't get enough

You're like an angel and you give me your love And I just can't seem to get enough

I Just Can't Get Enough - Depeche Mode That's their song ^^'

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

[murfpersonalblog]

Loumand's Timeskip - "Dubai Is A Child"

This thought literally just woke me up at 4 in the frikkin morning cuz who needs SLEEP, but WHEN did Loumand move to Dubai?

I had a dream that I was still responding to this Loumand bed death post @vividxp made, thinking about this show's altered timeline; how Loumand was obviously happy/happier from the 40s-70s; and how the show will handle not only Louis' increasing descent into depression, but Armand's depression as well--which culminated in Armand finally breaking up with Louis for good in the books, pre-QoTD, ToTBT, Memnoch & Merrick, etc.

"....When I looked into Louis's tortured face...I knew that this black-clad dark-haired gentleman...was the alluring embodiment of the misery I felt. He mourned the loss of grace of one human lifetime. I mourned the loss of the grace of centuries.... I fell in love with him hopelessly, and leaving the Theatre des Vampires in ruins (he burnt it to the ground in a rage for a very good reason), I wandered the world with him until very late in this modern age. Time eventually destroyed our love for one another. Time withered our gentle intimacy. Time devoured whatever conversation or pleasures we once agreeably shared. One other horrible inescapable and unforgettable ingredient went into our destruction. Ah, I don't want to speak of it, but who among us is going to let me be silent on the matter of Claudia, the child vampire whom I am accused for all time by all of having destroyed?" -- Armand, TVA

What went wrong between the time we see Louis in SanFran, and the time we see him in Dubai? WHY did they move to Dubai, and WHEN?

"Time eventually destroyed our love for one another. "

The Ep6 flashback to 1970s SanFran has always jarred me, cuz Louis looks so dang vibrant here--flirty and joking and talkative in ways we don't really EVER see--"I HAve An ACceNT!?" 🤪

(One of my FAVORITE Louis moments--Pyromaniac Du Lac is a frikkin DRAGON, y'all. 🐲🔥🐉😍)

Then we cut to 2022 Dubai, and it's Hello Darkness, My Old Friend?

Did Louis start spiraling the night of Daniel's OG 70's interview? Maybe? Louis was definitely angry, that he hadn't adequately convinced Daniel that vampirism was a horror, not something Daniel should be begging for like a simp--"You were disrespectful!"

Unlike in the film, Louis actually bit Daniel on the show, and woulda killed/drained him if Armand hadn't intervened; "this time I won't save your life." They (read: Armand) wiped his memory, took the tapes & ran--presumably to Dubai? But why THERE? Pretty drastic change of scenery--it's not like Dan would've remembered enough to call the cops on them, forcing Loumand to duck the CIA or something. Louis was killing humans alllll the way up to 2000--attacking Daniel didn't stop him--he kept going for 30 years! Then in 2000 he suddenly stops? So it wasn't SanFran or Daniel that triggered Louis after the 70s and made them flee to Dubai, it was something else.

Also, for all their claims of wanting "privacy/anonymity," they definitely weren't HIDING in Dubai, not with their ostentatious lifestyle--using the Prime Minister's own illustrious Dr Fareed just to give Daniel meds--"you've got your own hangar at the airport, privileges on the Royal Meydan Bridge, and zero presence online. I know the Emirates are big on privacy, and that's probably important to you, but I gotta ask, what does it cost?..."

But it's certainly interesting that RJ chose Dubai as their modern home, since it only started being developed into a modern super-city of the UAE in the 1970s--right when Armand & Louis might've fled SanFran to live there. It certainly tracks with the real estate investments Armand made on Night Island in the 80s. Like Armand said: "Dubai is a child," and it's a HUNGRY, VAMPIRIC child at that, cuz the economy & real estate markets in Dubai literally SUCK.

But it took TIME for Dubai to become that glitzy nighttime city so attractive to vampires. If we consider all the iconic skyscrapers and Palm Islands and structures shown off in the pilot episode, ALL of those landmarks weren't constructed until the late 1990s-early 2000s. And remember what else happened in the 2000s?

Then there's the penthouse. According to Daniel, they're in the Al Sharaf Towers in Dubai--but unless Google's lying to me, there are no Al Sharaf Towers in Dubai. (And @eosphoroz did some pretty nifty super sleuthing about Armand's prayer location, too.)

In the original pilot script, the penthouse was actually in the JLT's Al Seef Towers, which actually DOES exist in Dubai, built in 2008--infamous for the FIRES started in the 20teens that made the JLT's buildings uninhabitable for almost a decade of repairs. 👀🔥

I wanna know why RJ changed the location/name of the tower!! 😭(This post gives a strong argument for why the April 2020 to June 2022 date was changed.) But it makes a lot of sense if they want to remove the penthouse from the temporo-spatial realities of Dubai, this liminal zone cocooning the vampires from the outside world by living in a fanciful Tower From Nowhere. But that's boring, since this show's paid so much attention to detail, and many other places they name-dropped really exist, like Polynesian Mary's. So I'm gonna just go with the penthouse being in a REAL building. Meaning:

after 1973 IMO Loumand was probably not in Dubai yet, and were likely still city-hopping. Daniel said the SanFran apartment they lived in was "a dump;" which tracks with book!Armand not being rich yet--they were both living like bums after Paris. (IWTV OG 70s interview)

~1985-1990s book!Armand took up treasure hunting, art theft, & real estate. Built Night Island in Florida, but soon abandoned it. (QoTD Devil's Minion era)

~1995 book!Armand attempts suicide after seeing Veronica's Veil (Memnoch/TVA era, meets Benji & Sybelle, lives in NOLA while Lestat's comatose).

~1999 book!Louis attempts suicide after his ghost!Claudia seance (Merrick era, but I highly doubt AMC is post-Merrick, cuz Louis burnt too easily in the sunlight to have gotten his vamp upgrade yet).

in 2000 Louis stopped killing humans again (WHY? And how well did he adapt to that diet with Armand, rather than Lestat? We saw how much Louis struggled to keep his energy up in the 1910s: "I tried to adapt to my new diet. I barely had the energy to hold up a book. My libido was not what it had been.") How long was it till they started keeping blood bags, hiring Damek & co., keeping Louis' favorite AB- "fresh from The Farm"?

How would 9/11 in 2001 affect Muslim!Armand? In the PL trilogy he owned Trinity Gate in NYC during the 20teens (briefly reunited with Louis before Louis left him to marry Lestat in RoA/BC). Trinity Gate was in Manhattan, where the Twin Towers fell. What kind of depression/existential crises does AMC's Armand face with American Islamophobia? Is THAT why they moved to Dubai? Finding a home that was safe for them BOTH in a post-9/11 world?

after 2008 Loumand moved into the (Al Seef/Sharaf) penthouse, even if they stayed elsewhere (in Dubai?) since the 70s. Did they hire that team of staff specifically to maintain the penthouse, or to help keep up the Rashid illusion only when Daniel arrived? (This was also likely when they started keeping The Farm, somewhere in the penthouse/tower presumably for on-demand drinks.)

The 1990s SUCKED for both Armand AND Louis, both driven to suicide during the events surrounding Lestat's coma. So I actually doubt it was the 1970s that broke Louis, but rather 2000 when he stopped killing--the turn of the millennia/century, which probably heavily impacted Louis' psyche, as the existential dread of living to 100+ badly affected his outlook on vampiric "life."

So I wouldn't be surprised if AMC's Loumand lived in NYC (a la Trinity Gate) after SanFran, and left America AFTER 9/11. Thus contextualizing Muslim!Armand's race & religiosity with real world events, the same way they did with Louis and the IRL race riots in Storyville. I could ofc be dead wrong, and S2 could confirm that they've been living in Dubai since the 70s this whole time.

But regardless, Dubai was obviously NEVER a healthy environment for either of them, especially not Louis--that dead, cold, dry desert wasteland of concrete minimalism & hypocritical elite extravagance. When Daniel asked Louis where his coffin was, Louis said "you're standing in it."

"Why did he come away with me afterwards?.... He remained with me because he had to do it. It was the only way that he could go on existing, and for death he has never had the courage, and never will. And so he endured after the loss of Claudia, just as I had endured through...centuries...but in time he did learn to be alone. Louis, my companion, dried up of his own free will, rather like a beautiful rose skillfully dehydrated in sand so that it retains its proportions, nay, even its fragrance and even its tint. For all the blood he drank, he himself became dry, heartless, a stranger to himself and to me. Understanding all too well the limits of my warped spirit, he forgot me long before he dismissed me, but I too had learnt from him.... I too went on alone--perhaps for the first time really and truly alone. But how long can any of us endure without another?.... We can't stand it, to be alone." -- Armand, TVA

Loumand's entire time in Dubai was built up on artifice--their relationship was withering on the vine, as Louis AND Armand were already spiraling by the time Daniel showed up. That's why Louis was so desperate to do the interview in the first place--"truth and reconciliation;" "you are chronicling a suicide!" (This is leading up to Merrick ISTG y'all....)

"It was the love of Louis which had at times crippled Lestat, and enslaved Armand. Louis need have no consciousness of his own beauty, of his own obvious and natural charm." -- David, Merrick.

Eff you, David, but YES, actually.

Cuz JESUS, this was the performance of the century, the Theatre would be proud--what were they even DOING with "Rashid"? That whole Penthouse was their stage--it's all FAKE--which is why I'm not buying Armand's explanation for "The Groan," either.

-- Rolin Jones

Daniel just forced Loumand to face bitter reality, that neither one of them wanted to admit about their pasts, present, or future.

But please understand, y'all, I'm NOT tryna be a mean-spirited Loumand "Bed Death Truther," claiming Louis & Armand are just perpetually platonic & miserable roommates. I DO think they were happy briefly--(in the books moreso in NYC at the Trinity Gate reunion than anything that happened pre-Merrick, while they were BOTH on the verge of suicide). They're BOTH walking around with untreated trauma, and their relationship was built on a stack of lies (thanks to Armand's culpability in Claudia's death).

So I smh at Loumand same as I smh at Loustat, cuz BOTH relationships were a frikkin WRECK--Daniel's right that the only relationship Louis needs is with a therapist! U_U

"Loustat suffered 7yrs of bed death & they're a literal pack of horndogs for e/o. 😅 Louis' depression (& diet) directly effect his libido. In the books Armand walked away once he realized he couldn't help Louis anymore. AMC's timeline's likely going in that direction. No way are Loumand by Ep7 & the S2 trailer the picture of a healthy thriving couple--they could be humping like rabbits and still be unhappy together. :( Like, I fully expect to see Loumand have a bubble of happiness together in S2--turning to him for comfort in 40s Paris. And we already saw them in SanFran cruising for thirds quite comfortably in the 70s. But something bad obviously happened to Louis by the time they got to Dubai--he is UNWELL, and this interview is unlocking way too many doors Armand obviously wants Daniel/Louis to keep closed. So even if it's not bed death YET, it's GONNA die--hence: Merrick." --Me.

Like, I'm lukewarm towards Loumand (at worst apathetic), cuz I know it doesn't LAST; and I know Louis was only with Armand out of necessity, cuz the books said so. I'm waiting on S2 to convince me otherwise.

[exsqueezememacaroni]

I’m so jealous, the band didn’t stick around to meet fans on the first date in Baltimore but it seems like they’ve gone out at every single other show 😭 I’m so sad I didn’t get to meet him, there was only a couple of us waiting there but they went right to their hotel apparently!

omg, don't feel too bad - i'll give you the quick (edit: lol) rundown of my experience: NYC: I didn't know where the backstage entrance/exit was until after the show, and I was too anxious about it all/too excited to talk to some folks I met at Zorn@70 to scope out trying to meet them coming in...after the concert, Scott and Trey came over to say hi, Dave, Mike and Trevor went straight to the car.

Montclair: it fuckn rained most of the afternoon...I get the feeling they went in for soundcheck early and then never went out again before the show. I had a long, chill, lunch/dinner. I think bc the venue was smallish, and maybe security wasn't like....super serious with their briefing, AND the boys had the day off the next day, AND there was a jazz festival the same day so they had to like, walk of shame/fame over to the parking lot where the vehicles were...Mike felt comfortable enough to say hi to folks on the walk...at the place I was waiting there was literally just me and one other guy (the obvious fan) with his gf. There were also maybe a couple of people waiting on the parking lot end? But I bet not a crowd at all. (That night I was just like....laser focused on getting the belt to Mike....I think everybody in the band did some fan-greets)

Boston: I kid you not, it was just pure dumb-fuck luck that we ran into them coming into soundcheck. All I was actually doing was showing off where the tour bus was parked (that I saw on the way to the venue) and taking a walk around the block....and there they were! Security stopped us, but again, I dunno, maybe because they had the day off before, maybe because Mike was loopy as apparently he hadn't eaten all day, maybe he knew he was getting his Pig and Hip friends in a sec so he was in a good mood, but he said yes when I asked if we could come say 'hi', and security let us through. After the show, I definitely did not want to bother them again, but I was super curious what the band would do, so I hung out after the show, but back a ways - everybody except Trevor got into the car and booked it pretty soon after the show (they had to drive to Montreal). Trevor for some reason came out much later and straight up chatted with whoever was left, and no one seemed to take any selfies, so I kind of wonder if they knew him or were connected to him in some way??

So like, out of three shows, only at one of them did the band as a whole (and mike at all) come out and say hi to fans. And to be honest, if circumstances had been slightly different, it could have been 0/3. It feels a little shitty of me to have this perspective, since I did get to talk to him twice (also to be super honest, he definitely did not recognize me the second time, why would he?), but I dunno...if things were different, and I didn't get to meet him at all, I would like to think that would be ok...these old fucks have to live that tour life (asshole-tight schedules, sleeping on coffin-sized bunk beds on the bus), they really don't have to come over after the show. I will say, I was NOT lucky enough to get a whiff of that bastard, so like, can't have everything!!!

[light-lanterne]

so what the heck happened to my dad?

people asked. guess i can summarise it and then refer anyone to this post instead of trying to be brave and making myself sad over and over. details will be kept somewhat vague because safety is important.

tw for crime and death, i suppose.

anyway,,, for the whole story,,,

so, my dad is a pilot and a flight instructor, like his father before him, and everyone on his side of the family. i suppose he used to be very good, but he's 70 years old and a heavy smoker so his eyesight is not what it once was. as such, he had to stop flying by himself and merely coaches people through the process.

helps them make sure a plane is good to fly,,, makes sure their papers are all in order,,, sits with them through flights,,, that kind of thing.

which brings us to The Day. a client/friend of his wanted to do some maintenance to his little airplane and thus, he requested that my dad met up with him. the plan was that my dad would use public transport to get somewhere, and then this guy would pick him up and they'd drive to the airport.

so, my dad got ready, said he'd be late (like the day before, and the day before that) and at 10:35 am, he left our apartment to go do that.

and then he never came back.

footage caught by a camera somewhere between my place and the station. my dad would hate this: he despises photos.

at first, we thought he and his friend had finished their maintenance and had decided to actually take a little trip somewhere. it wasn't exactly normal, but it had happened before so we clung to that theory. there was no reason to think anything bad had happened yet, and the only unnerving part was that he wouldn't pick up his phone.

but hey, maybe it just ran out of battery, right?

more days passed and his absence became abnormal. again, it didn't happen often, but sometimes my dad would go on these little unplanned adventures with his clients. my family,,, by american standards we're poor; by local standards, we're (very low) middle class. so we needed the money and my dad would always take those chances and buy us ice cream to apologise for his absence.

unlike any of those times, however, he was unreachable. and that had never happened before; he always found a way to talk to us because my mom is known to freak out and despite their frequent fights i think he actually loved her. so the fact that he wasn't calling was weird and we were starting to worry.

but then, a few days after he left, we got a phone call.

not from him, but from the family of my dad's client. he was also missing and they were very worried because the man was not known to leave for days at a time (like my dad), and they wanted to know if we knew anything they didn't. naturally, we didn't.

so that's when we filed a missing people's report. we also tried calling everyone my dad and the client knew to get information and maybe retrace their steps, but no one knew anything and the cops came up short from their initial one-week investigation.

all anyone knew was that my dad had gotten picked up by the dude, they'd made it to the airport in question, and then they never got to the hangar with the plane. no security footage, no useful witnesses,,, they just vanished.

the cops kept investigating, or so they said, but they did a pretty shitty job because there was a massive development in the case and we didn't learn it from them.

we learned it from the newspaper.

turns out, the client's family had gotten a phone call from some cartel members who claimed to have taken their dude. and i don't know many details, but the assholes had to have been convincing because the family started selling everything they could to get money in order to pay ransom. unlike us, they are actually fairly well-off. most of their assets, however, were locked under the client's name so they did struggle a bit to gather the money.

ultimately, they managed to collect the equivalent of 200k dollars and tried to get their dude back.

but the assholes cut off contact after a bit (not without sending them photos of a couple unidentified dead men) and that's when the dude's family contacted the media to try to pressure the authorities to actually do something.

it's been radio silence since then. no one knows anything about the client. and my dad?

his name was on the footnote of the original news article, wasn't even mentioned in the many copies that followed, and the cops have recently told us they're removing priority because it's been too long and they can't find anything new so they're going to focus on another case.

make no mistake; the search for the client is still ongoing. although not someone to appear on the newspapers on the daily, he is wealthy and his life appears to matter more than my low middle class, 70-year-old sickly father. the client's family never contacts us on their own volition,,, the cops are not looking for him,,, heck, the narcs didn't even bother calling us because i guess they didn't care for him either.

no one cared for him but us, his family, and a friend of his.

they even removed his missing people's poster from the rotation. (the other side of the image has his photo and some compromising information.)

so where does that leave us now?

my dad is gone and my mom will cling to the hope that he's somewhere out there, but i'm pretty sure he's dead. i know him enough to know that he wouldn't have let himself be taken without a fight and it's easier to deal with one person than two, i suppose. they weren't after my dad, after all.

(to be fair, maybe the narcs did try to call us,,, but my dad was paranoid and didn't have our phone numbers in his cellphone, so they would've had to ask him and i know he wouldn't give it to them. so yeah, most likely got himself murdered.)

the cops are unhelpful. it's not like they didn't do anything at all, but the little they did was,,, pretty basic work and didn't provide anything at all. i mean, we had to tell them about the newspaper story and they were pretty bewildered because they hadn't heard a thing. they did the bare minimum and the government simply doesn't care about the massive amount of missing people in this shithole country. much less about an old man that once gave them a little trouble (a story for another time).

my family is struggling. forget the emotional aspect: my dad's job was irregular and while we could afford most of our bills and food, it was not enough for a small, insignificant thing called "rent". we owe our landlord around 5k dollars and that might not sound like too much to you american and european folks, but it is a lot in our currency.

(we're lucky our landlord is an old friend of my mom's and that she's very understanding; we should've been evicted at least three years ago.)

the cherry on top is that in a bizarre twist of events i find myself being the only one who is making any money rn. my mom is not exactly young and she's deaf so no one would hire her anywhere. my brother? autistic with a tendency to say shit that makes people angry so job interviews also didn't go too well.

myself? also somewhat deaf, also very autistic but in a different flavour (plus, i am disabled so that's fun) but hey, i managed to find a job that pays me almost 100 dollars a week so at least our basic expenses are covered.

i am the man of the house >:) even if my family doesn't know it yet

alas, the situation is still somewhat dire but we're very slowly getting back on our feet. we might be able to pay rent to our landlord for the first time in years, i finally feel a little important after years of feeling lost (it's been tough since i had to drop out of college), we got to throw away the ugliest carpet known to men now that my dad is not guarding it, and we might even afford a small christmas ham or something for the holidays

(we couldn't afford a tree, though)

my dad was never a fan of photos so i don't have many with him. i'm the tiny one (that was our christmas tree for years,,, my mom gets creative lol)

it's,,, going.

it's very hard, i'm thoroughly exhausted, i haven't gone to bed in a month and my health has taken a swan dive into the abyss, but it's going.

so yeah, that's the whole story, i guess. my dad was with the wrong person at the wrong time and now he's gone and i can't even grieve him because there is a chance he's still alive.

guess we'll never know.

anyway, i'll end this here. support me and my family if you can and want to and read my stories because that makes me happy~

[paulroberts316]

What is your earliest memory?  I remember climbing out of my crib. Sure my mom kept me in a crib until I was 8 but that is still pretty early, right? Kidding, I had to have been no more than 3. I also remember the taste of our sofa. I would gnaw on the edge of the cushion; it had a distinct salty flavor I can easily remember now 50+ years later. My family moved out of our first house when I was 5 so all the memories I have from that house, and I have a lot, were from that age. Things like, we used to have dirt clod fights with the neighbors until one of the dirt clods that hit me in the head had a decent sized rock in it. My brother David, 3 ½ years older, knew that if I ran into the house crying to mom the fun would be over, so he was very motivated to get me to stop crying and stay outside. Somehow he figured out that I was incapable of saying the word ‘cheeseburger’ and continuing to cry. So … dirt clod hits my head, rock in dirt clod, I start crying, I head for the front door to tell mom I was hurt, David stops me and says “you’re fine … say ‘cheeseburger’.” After a couple refusals to say it (I really needed to see mom) I said ‘cheeseburger’ and started to laugh which stopped me crying. We stayed outside playing until the ‘cheeseburger’ trick was needed again.

Another vivid memory from this age was when we were riding in the back of a pick-up truck on a street in our neighborhood (completely unrestrained, we didn’t care much about safety back then) when a dog who always chased cars came out after us. The driver of the truck, I can’t remember whose truck this was, swerved into the dog as we accelerated past it and the rear bumper clipped the dog’s head sending the dog pinwheeling away and nearly tearing its ear off. As a lover of animals this was a horrific thing to witness as a 5 year old. Sadly, I can remember it clearly 50 years later.

Around this time we had a babysitter, a teenage boy, who would teach us how to make and smoke pretend cigarettes out of rolled up scraps of newspaper. This was the era of candy cigarettes (look it up it was a thing) and we thought pretending to smoke was cool. We didn’t inhale the smoke but just puffed it and imitated adults we had seen smoking (smoking was very common, by adults not 5 year olds, in the 70’s but neither of our parents smoked, thank God). Being the responsible babysitter that he was, he made us eat peanut butter to get the smell of smoke off of our breath before our parents came home. Neither my brother nor I became smokers. In fact 10 years later when my mom got remarried to a man who did smoke (Skip, more on him later), my brother and I bullied him into quitting. We would literally grab his pack of cigarettes and crush them and throw them away. We were decent sized kids and it was obvious our mom loved us a lot more than she did him, so there was never any blow-back. This is the only time I support bullying.

This babysitter, who is now a successful business man working as a project manager at a major dot.com (thank you LinkedIn search) also taught us how to make prank phone calls. This knowledge I put to ‘good’ use throughout my youth. I was not a regular prank phone caller, I went more for quality than quantity, and by that I mean that I didn’t make a prank call unless I had a really funny idea I wanted to perpetrate. As a latch-key kid I had plenty of alone time so this was one small way to relieve my boredom and exercise my creativity.

My (at this point completely overstated) career as a prank caller came to a zenith (and conclusion) when I was a Freshman at Eastern Washington University. I lived in a dorm called Morrison Hall. Adrian was a football teammate and dorm neighbor who became a close friend of mine and shared my sense of adventure and thirst for wholesome mischief. And by wholesome mischief I mean throwing stale food at people from the top floor of our dorm (and later prank phone calls). To understand how throwing stale food could be a thing we enjoyed, here’s a little back story: Adrian’s girlfriend Theresa, who was an EWU cheerleader and his high school sweetheart, lived on our dorm floor. Also, her older brother Jeff was on the same dorm floor. Theresa and Jeff’s family were the type of family to have an entire out-building on their property just for storing food in bulk in the event of the world food supply chain being disrupted or the Apocalypse, or who knows. So their mom would ship them cases of snacks, like cookies, caramels, bags of chips, et cetera. Since Theresa, Jeff and Adrian could never consume 500 cookies in a timely fashion I would help them eat them. As much as we all liked cookies, me more than most, we burned out on eating them after three or four hundred were consumed, so the final hundred or so went stale. Normal people would throw the remaining stale cookies away and move on with their lives. But Adrian and I had a much better idea: hiding on the balcony of the top floor of our dorm at night and flinging them at people below who would have no idea where they were coming from. This brought us much joy.

At first we would toss a cookie down so it would land near a person or two in front of our building causing them to look around and wonder ‘where the hell did that cooking come from?’ This was simple harmless fun. One night we decided to escalate things a bit and we turned our sights on scaring people out in front of the dorm hall next ours. This changed the dynamic of our cookie throws as we were not able to be sure we would miss the people in the area we were throwing. Because we didn’t want to hit anyone in the face or hurt anyone (we liked or didn’t know) we waited until a very annoying person we knew came into the target zone, a guy named Frank. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of Streeter Hall and we let fly a stale cookie in his general direction. Contact! We hit him in the leg. You can see from the images below that this was a hell of a throw (but not the best, you just wait). He thought whatever had hit his leg came from someone in the building he was standing in front of and started yelling and shaking his fist at the upper floors of Streeter Hall. We were dying with laughter at this. It never occurred to him that it might have come from Morrison Hall and we loved the anonymity of it.

Once we proved to ourselves that we could hit someone in front of Streeter Hall and it sunk in that we didn’t really know where the cookie would land, and because we didn’t want to hurt anyone, we stopped.

But we still had some stale cookies left and the thought of throwing them away never crossed our minds, so we transitioned to the competitive sporting aspect of cookie throwing, who could throw one the farthest.

I’d like to take credit for pulling off the throw that I am about to describe, but it was Adrian that launched the magic cookie. I have to include images of the scene to show the amazingness of what he accomplished, included below. But first a description of the event. These stale cookies really flew when flinged properly and Adrian and I got really good at flinging them long distances with reasonable accuracy. It was a sunny weekend day and we decided to launch cookies out the back of our hall lounge area on the 5th floor for distance. We slid open the sliding doors to the balcony from the lounge area and launched our cookies with the aim of trying to hit the apartment complex across the street. You will see in the images below this is a long way to throw a cookie. We took turns launching cookies out across the street with varied result. Each throw elicited from both of us the kind of laugh you make when you are doing something fun, exciting and mischievous. Our throwing form was just like you’d use skipping rocks on a pond, with a couple step lead up to a very aggressive flip of the wrist, the cookie spinning off our index finger. When done right, the cookie would fly out the doors, over the balcony rail and then across the street to the two-story apartment complex. I was the first to get one all the way there, landing it on the roof of the complex. A nice snack for the birds. This is a hell of a throw distance-wise, but Adrian’s next throw would turn out to be more glorious than we could have ever imagined. As he was starting his throw a male resident of the apartment complex we were throwing at came out his front door on the second floor holding a basket of laundry. He turned and started walking down the outdoor walkway towards the stairs at the end of the building, oblivious to what a couple of fools were doing across the street in Morrison Hall. My memory of the throw seems like slow motion, but in reality, when you throw a cookie 165 feet it takes a while to get to its landing spot. By the time it is out over 100 feet it is not travelling that fast, acting more like a cross between a paper airplane and a sugary UFO. Our eyes got big and excitement grew as we watched the cookie track towards the laundry carrying man, who was not an intended target when the throw commenced but quickly became the desired target as the cookie traveled his way. This throw must have been blessed by the patron saint of thrown cookies (Saint Amos?) as it hit the laundry carrying man in the upper arm, causing him to drop his laundry basket, grab his bicep, say ‘ow’ and look around in bewilderment. We couldn’t believe it. The victim had no idea what had happened. Adrian and I were inside the dorm hall across the street out of sight, freaking out with joy at what had happened.

Based on Google Maps this throw was around 165 feet

After this amazing event we stopped throwing cookies because we, A) realized this was a dangerous and foolish thing to do, or, B) ran out of cookies. I’m going to remember it as reason ‘A’, though it was almost for sure reason ‘B’.

Next we proceeded to buy the supplies needed to make a funnelator, a sling shot made of surgical tubing and a funnel, to launch water balloons. We did this a couple times with joyous success until our launch platform on a hill across the street from Morrison Hall was charged by the local police who confiscated our funnelator and bucket of water balloons, letting us off with a warning to never do this again, which we heeded.

Which leads us back to our prank calling. Adrian and I didn’t drink or do any type of drugs. We were sober college students who didn’t party, so we got creative filling our spare time. As Division 1-AA (now FCS) football players we actually didn’t have that much spare time, so we needed to make the most of it, and we did. At some point when we were bored it donned on us that the phones in each dorm room (a decade before cell phones were common) had phone numbers that were basically a prefix, then the room number. We found the prefix for another dorm hall on campus and started dialing. Mostly this was Adrian talking and I offering suggestions on what to say and what numbers to call. Adrian was a lot more socially outgoing than I was.

Using what I now know to be called ‘social engineering’ we would learn the names of people on a floor and call them using their name like we knew them. It went something like this:

Adrian: “Hi, Michelle is Jenny there?”

Victim: “I’m not Michelle, I’m Anne.”

Adrian: “Oh, sorry Anne, is Jenny there?”

Victim (Anne): “Jenny Smith? She’s doesn’t live in this room, she’s in room 812”

Mostly we did it to confuse the hell out of them for our amusement. Often times we used the ruse of a missing frisbee. It was pretty harmless.

Calling room 812 …

Adrian: “Hi Jenny?”

Victim #2 (Jenny): “Yes this is Jenny who’s this?”

Adrian: “It’s Mark. Anne says you have my frisbee!”

Confusion and hilarity ensued. One night when it was snowing pretty hard we decided to escalate things by calling around to find someone who would be willing to come out to the parking lot and help us put a canopy on our (imaginary) truck. Sure enough, we were able to talk someone into helping us. It turns out when you call someone using their real name and mention a couple of people on their dorm floor recommended them as a helpful, compassionate person, they can be convinced to do things they wouldn’t normally do. We are pretty sure he went out in the snow looking for this guy who called him out of the blue asking for help. We didn’t go out and see for sure that he did, I mean, it was snowing out.

At this point I started to feel a bit bad about pranking people but not enough to stop. Next we called a girl whose name we found through ‘social engineering’ people on her floor and convinced her we had a crush on her and wanted to meet for lunch. She was convinced and as far as we know she waited for this mystery guy at the Student Union Building café the next day. After we hung up, and all the next day, I felt really bad for her. So that was the end my prank calling career forever.

[january31st]

Ablaze: Chapter 1

Cruella (2021) x reader

This request from a lovely anon! <3 

When you said burn the world to the ground I grabbed it upside down and ran with it.

I’m still not sure how many chapters long this will be, but I’m happy with what I’ve got storywise, and so I hope you enjoy it as well!

A/N: I describe a lot of outfits in detail and it’s taking me back to the yee olde days of cringey fanfics, but I must indulge. It’s Cruella, the fits are essential guys don’t roast me yet.

And yes I had too much fun putting them together in my head to then not write them.

Also I got very carried away with 70’s slang, I'm sorry in advance. But also I’m not sorry because this is the first time in a long while that I came up with a story that I’m actually proud of so yes. 

Warnings: None really? Someone being drunk on them sweet sweet Margaritas? Tequila power my comrades.

|| Masterlist || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Wattpad link ||

~2000 words

“Thank you so much for showing up on this lovely Saturday night and enjoying the music! And most importantly, thank you Artie for convincing me to get into this. I hope you have a lovely weekend everyone!” You said with your cheeks flushed and smiling brightly at your audience in the pub as they cheered you.

You swung your guitar off and put it down while gesturing at the bartender for a drink, and then made your way toward Artie’s table. With his arms crossed but returning your smile he said “And you didn’t want to join my band! Now everyone comes here to hear you sing”

“You know I was studying back then. I mean you can never guess how much people will care about your art.” You retorted as you took the drink from the barman, winking at him as a thank you.

“Girl! You sing like a God! You play that guitar so well it baffles me. Your makeup? Stunning. Every time. You have to understand that you are amazing in every way and people love to see you.” He said slurring his words a bit, the Margarita on his hand probably to blame for that.

“You’re just drunk! And you know what? I hate to admit it but if it weren’t for your Cruella friend none of this would’ve happened. I mean, because of that night like a year ago when you cats crashed the Baroness's spring collection with the concert? If you didn’t call me to cover you in here I would be still pouring over those books without actually enjoying myself.” 

“Wow we’re really talking about her” He had his eyes wide open, almost cartoonishly. “What was it you called her after that time? A phony, double coloured bogart?” You took advantage of his surprise to discreetly take the drink away from him, you knew he’d thank you later for not letting him get too wasted.

“I went to drop you off at that shady warehouse and she gave me the hairy eyeball for no reason! I mean, looked me up and down and then told me to Audi 5000.”

“She asked if you were going to stay Y/N”

“But the way she said it! She's mean as hell.”

“She just has a big personality! So do I! And you know I hate boring people, because you are quite the show as well.”

“But I’m not judgy like her. Or tell me I’m not.”

“You’re not.” All of a sudden he looked very sober. “But this conversation reminded me. I kinda told her about your skills….”

“Yes?”

“She’s kinda rushing things for her next show… And needs a good makeup artist.”

“And now I actually have to go there or I’ll be the asshole?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well I just threw it into the air! She designed this dress and I said your style would look good with it!” He answered defensively. “Then I guess she remembered you and really insisted that you doll up some of her models. I think she liked your look that day. I mean, I sure did. The purple dress with the cheetah coat? And your eyes with that purple shadow?”

“Oh so was that why she stared a hole into my forehead? When even? I’ve had a bunch of other pub guys hit me up for gigs, I’m booked like every other night.” You said.

“Well she didn’t really set a meeting or anything. The show isn’t until the 25th of next month anyway, we just have to show up sometime next week and you do your thing.” 

“Okay then… I guess. Tuesday at 3 meet me at my place. I’m only doing this for you okay?”

“Thanks love! It’s not gonna be that bad, I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Usually you threw your outfits together in two seconds, it came easily to you because you didn’t care enough about how other people would react to it. And as much as you wanted to tell yourself that you didn’t care for this meeting, you did. 

With her being, well, her, you felt that what you wore would speak much louder than what you said, so you spent hours picking and choosing things from your wardrobe, bed lost in the clothes, shoes lost from their pair and jewelry messed up all over your table. 

Why the hell do I care if she likes me or not? I don’t even need this job, it’s just because of Artie. Oh no, if I make a fool of myself then he’s probably gonna be the one dealing with the consequences.

To really make sure you made a statement you decided to clash two opposite styles: First a floral dress in light tones and matching statement earrings, and then a leather jacket, spiked heel boots, a choker and chains for necklaces.

Then it came time for your makeup, and that was easy with an outfit already together: eyeshadow matching the dress, graphic black eyeliner and black lipstick.

After a while you decided to stop staring at the mirror and instead paced your apartment thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. What if she made some awful comment? You weren’t sure you would be able to not snap back. And with all her success she always thinks she’s right for sure, the more you thought about all the nasty things she would say the more annoyed you got.

After you checked that all your makeup was ready to take with you, Artie rang the door.

“Oh my God! I’m living for this” he said while gesturing to your clothes.

“Let’s hope she does too” you grimaced and grabbed your makeup bags.

“She will, trust me I know her. She will shower you with compliments”

“So long as she doesn’t shower me with knives.” At that he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh and you can leave those behind, she’s ready to see you and has called some models, and also has the makeup you’ll use.” 

“Okay, so let’s get to it.”

The bus ride there did help to calm you down for the most part, with Artie reassuring you she wasn’t gonna eat you alive and also gossiping about your soon to be coworkers - the ones who worked for years for the baroness were now in less control than him, and he just loved to see their fancy asses frothing at the mouth every time he walked into the room.

Arriving at the (now) House of DeVil you took all the chaos in awe: people carrying rolls of fabric around, tables littered with sketches and pins and all kinds of sewing tools thrown around, people shouting at each other in a franzie to get the next show to be perfect.

And then Artie took you into what you assumed to be her office. She was sitting at her table sketching away on a sketchpad before turning her attention to you. Just the way she had done the first time she saw you, she eyed you up and down and pursed her lips in thought. 

“Alright. Artie, be a darling and call the models in.”

You took your coat off to put in the hanger and waited for her to comment on what you were wearing or your makeup. Except no comment came, good or bad. That probably doesn’t mean anything, she isn’t supposed to comment on your looks, just your work. 

The nervousness washed away once again when you saw the models. It seemed as though every piece that they wore was more beautiful than the one before it, the extreme cuts and insane silhouettes outdoing each other, and every colour matching them perfectly.

Now with a smile on your face, you jumped straight into working and sailed from model to model, finishing each one quickly because of how inspired the pieces made you. As you approached the last one you became very aware of the lack of response from her. She was sitting down fidgeting with the top of her cane, eyes narrowed as she studied your work. When you were done, you stepped aside and looked to Artie. 

She got up and inspected each one of them with the same look about her, and the same uncomfortable silence. To help you out a bit Artie complimented the looks and pointed out the things he loved about them, but that didn’t seem to persuade her to do the same.

“You may go, guys” she said gesturing toward the models, then grabbed a pen on her desk and asked you “What is your name again?” and then when you answered she wrote it down on the corner of the sketch she was doing when you got there. 

“Thank you for coming Y/N. Artie, I’ll need you here tomorrow at 9.” She sat down again and went back to what she was doing, just as if you hadn’t been there at all. He nodded at her as you answered with “You’re welcome” and then you grabbed your coat and followed Artie outside.

Once the cold London air hit your neck, you zipped the jacket up. 

“I don’t know what’s up with her, but that was the first time she acted like that since I’ve known her.” He admitted.

“Great! So she really must have hated it! So much she couldn’t even say how awful they were.”

“Awful? Did you even look at what you did? It was stunning. It was even better than I thought it was going to be!”

“Maybe that’s just you. She definitely hated it. But I mean she could have said so? You know what pisses me off more than just telling me I sucked? Not saying anything! I mean, I would rather she just insult me honestly” 

“It is very odd that she didn’t say you were hired.” When he saw the look on your face he added “But I’m sure that tomorrow she’s going to say something!”

“Yeah, I don’t count on that. ” 

There was no way in hell she liked them. That was the same silence that followed every time someone in the band would suggest a bad melody. Wednesday night Artie came to another one of your gigs and didn’t speak of Cruella until you brought it up. He said she never talked about the makeup for the show and offered one of his apologetic smiles, only confirming how you had wasted that day in vain (also the ones before, worrying like a child, anxious for the first day of school. What an idiot.) instead of rehearsing for the more important shows you had coming up. 

A week had gone by and there was no word from her, as expected. What did come up was the opportunity you had been waiting for since you grabbed a guitar for the first time. A record label was interested in making an album!

With every new concert you brought to the table a different look, and a different genre. Some small local magazines published columns on you and compared you to Bowie- Artie running to you one day, a torn piece of paper in his hand and his eyes full of proud tears- the way you accommodated to every audience, and how you did it so genuinely. 

You never did it for the success, let alone to be a copycat. You stepped on stage and sang exactly what you felt, the strings ringing with the sound of the language your soul spoke. And it came as a bonus that people liked it.

That night you were dressed in a Pin-up style, hands shaking from the emotional performance - an effect The Blues would always have on you- as you sipped your drink. Then a man dressed in a suit came up to you, and introduced himself as the owner of a record label you hadn’t heard much of yet. He explained how he came to know of you and gave you his card before leaving you again.

On the card was this contact information and an address, and then when you turned it to the other side, in a tiny scrawl you read Wednesday the 23rd, 9 AM.

And the next two weeks flew by with anticipation.

|| Masterlist || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Wattpad link ||

if you want to be added to a taglist for this series, feel free to reach out in whatever way you prefer :)

[wintervvidow]

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback.  friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST 

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience. 

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost. 

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind. 

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed. 

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky. 

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff. 

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested. 

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.  

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you." 

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers. 

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation. 

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria. 

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky. 

Flashback: 

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

 The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised. 

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time. 

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

[livexdolan]

Part 2 of 40 and 70? 🥺🥺

Yes yes and yess

Masterlist

Previously (Pt. 1)

Two weeks later...

“Y/n! Would you please move your ass a little faster?” Maya sighs as I trudge my suitcase down the hall to the living room.

I drop it with a huff, “I’m sorry but someone decided to conveniently forget to mention we were going up to a ski lodge for two weeks.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs the handle, moving it too easy for my liking. Opening the front door she moves my suitcase out into the hall next to hers, “Okay, okay, my bad. But I knew if I told you at first you’d never agreed to go. Especially because...y’know... he-who-shall-not-be-named is going to be there.”

“Yeah well, I don’t care. It’s whatever,” I shrug, hoping my face is covering up how much my heart hurts at the thought of him.

She raises her brow and I know I’m a terrible liar, “Mhm. C’mon, let’s go.”

She walks out the door, grabbing her purse. I grab my purse and throw my phone and keys in it. I also grab my water bottle off the counter, taking a quick sip. My face scrunches a little at the taste of Pinot Grigio, the closest I can get to red wine, seeing as my friends won’t let me have Merlot because it makes me ‘bitchy’.

I lock the door, walking to the elevator where Maya and Kristina are waiting. “Let’s do this.”

When we make it out the complex I stop, my friend bumping into me and cursing but all I can hear is a numbing buzz as I look at the all-too familiar white Tesla sitting in front of me.

“What the hell?” Kris looks down, a blush crawling across her face and Maya sighs, “Why did no one tell me we were going with them?”

“Because we knew you’d try to back out. Ethans car is the only one big enough to fit everyone. It’s us three, Ethan, Grayson, and Ryan. Mando and five other people are meeting us at the lodge,” Kris says softly and I love her so much, it’s the only thing keeping me from hitting her.

“I can’t-“ my words are cut off and my heart starts pounding as the twins jump out of the car, Ethan walking over to Kris and kissing her quickly, grabbing her bag with ease.

Grayson moves in front of me with his hands going into his hoodie pocket. The hoodie I always stole. I think bitterly, “Y/n? You ready?” I flinch at his voice, not looking him in the eye.

I nod silently but when he goes to grab my bag I stop him, pulling the handle myself, “I got it,” I spit, knowing it came out harsher than I planned.

He steps back like I slapped him with the audacity to look hurt. He shakes his head and grabs Mayas bag instead, giving her a half-smile before turning back to the car.

Maya raises her brow but I ignore it, not in the mood for her lecture. Dragging my suitcase to the car I reluctantly hand it to Grayson so he can stuff it into the back. When I get to the back doors I notice something.

Oh God. No. No no no no- “Where’s everyone sitting?” I already know. I had no reason to ask. Fucking hell.

I look at Ethan in the drivers seat, Kristina next to him, Ryan and Maya getting their stuff together in the captain chairs in the second row. Leaving the third row empty. The smallest seats for me and- “ Guess it’s you and me in the back. Just like old times, eh?” I scoff at his deep voice, feeling him behind me.

I grumble and push into the third row, moving as far behind Ryan’s seat as I can, pushing my purse to the ground. Crossing my arms I decide I’m going to sit like a statue for the drive.

Grayson clambers in as well, but instead of giving me space he leans back, spreading his long legs slightly so his thigh is barely touching mine. I pull my leg closer to my side. Grayson sighs and reaches for something.

He holds up a soft blanket and I look at him, he raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘peace offering?’ I uncross my arms and take it from him, slowly relaxing into my seat a little, knowing I can’t ignore him for two weeks, especially not when we’re sitting so close.

“Hey, y/n?” Grayson whispers, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

I glance over at him, “Hey, Grayson?” I say back, mockingly.

If that surprised him, he hides it well, “I was just wondering...are you ever going to forgive me?”

I whip my head to look at him, “forgive you?” I repeat.

He nods, a nervous look in his eyes, “For...punching Dylan, that’s why you’ve been ignoring me right?”

I gape at him. My entire brain short circuits and I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth, shut it, and open it again, “You think that’s why I haven’t been talking to you?” I ask incredulously, hoping he’s joking.

“Why do you keep repeating me like that? After I hit Dylan you ran out, then ignored all my texts and calls. Maya even told me you took the final online so you didn’t have to come to the same class as me. I assumed it was because I hurt him. Look, I’m sorry about that. He was being such a dick and I-“

“Are you really that self-centered that you think I would make that big of a deal out of you punching that asshole in the face?” I whisper, cutting him off, “I haven’t talked to you because you and I,” I gesture to the two of us in the small space, “aren’t good friends. You drag me into stupid shit I don’t want to do and I follow you like a lost puppy. I’m tired of it. And frankly, I’m fucking sick of you acting like you never once picked up on how much I loved you. As more than a friend,” I ramble. Leaning back in my seat with a huff, re-crossing my arms.

I stare at the back of Ryan’s headrest and can see Grayson staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I keep up my hard look, Grayson finally giving up and letting out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair and tugging it slightly.

My heart tugs at me, telling me to comfort him, knowing he only does that when he’s really stressed out but I hold back. I’m tired of him using me as his girlfriend without actually letting me be his girlfriend. I have a small epiphany as the thought hits me. That’s it. That’s why all of this pissed me off so much.

Grayson has been using me as his girlfriend for almost ten years. He comes to me with his problems, we cuddle, he takes me out for food and ice cream, makes me go on adventures with him, talks me into wearing matching outfits for his party so he doesn’t look stupid, he even holds my hand. But then he goes off and fucks other girls, he’s had one too many friends with benefits in the past three years. In fact, he had four different girls doing it with him at one time, until two of the girls found out about each other and cut him off.

When I asked him how he felt he just shrugged saying, ‘I never said I wouldn’t have sex with other people’. Maybe that’s part of the problem, too.

Because even if Grayson loved me back- would he even be able to handle a full one-on-one relationship? Would he cheat? Not because he didn’t love me but because he was so used to doing whatever the hell he wanted? I roll my head to the side, watching the world go back as my thoughts swirl.

This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life.

Next...(Pt.3)

-

A/n: I know y’all are gonna hate me but there’s gonna be at least one more part. It was getting a bit long and I think we left off on a good note ;)) lmk how y’all feel about the new part ❤️

[egcdeath]

strangers again

summary: “hiiii sweetie!! can i request a steve x reader where he left yn for peggy. but he always felt guilty and missed yn. he would always stare at her pic. when he came back he bumped into yn while she was dropping a kid to daycare. and steve realized it was his son. kinda sad but fluff at the end pls!!!! and oh i super love your works!!! tysm 🌼🥺💕”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: decent angst, brief mention of a depressive episode, abandonment, somewhat unrealistic behavior

word count: 3.8k

author’s note:  i really hope that this lives up to your expectations but it is a little cheesy. i’d also like to warn that i have not interacted with a child in several years, so.. sorry. (there’s also a lot of exposition so double sorry if that’s not your thing!)

You’d never forget the moment Steve left to return the stones, with the promise to be back in only a matter of moments.

Maybe your definition of a matter of moments was different from his.

You seemed to be the only one without a clue of what Steve truly planned to do, with Bucky only telling you after the matter that Steve was leaving for the past and for Peggy, and probably not coming back.

After finding out, something deep within you broke. You could barely leave your bed for days, you struggled to eat, sleep, even drink water. Every task that used to seem like muscle memory, began to feel like it carried the weight of the world behind it. Every hobby that you once enjoyed becoming empty and bleak.

You constantly felt inadequate. How could you love someone so much, and be told you were loved so much while always being second to someone else?

The simple sentiment of it had left you feeling miserable, and sick to your stomach. Literally. Nearly every morning, and occasionally if you smelled something too strong, you found the contents of your stomach emptied.

You attempted to ignore it at first. Meshed with every other unpleasant symptom you were going through, you’d figured that it was just one more bullet point on the list of things that had been plaguing you. But when your friends insisted that you go check up with your doctor, you had a hard time saying no.

Once you received the results from your blood test, you were completely taken aback by the fact that you were pregnant. You couldn't believe that you hadn’t considered the possibility of pregnancy earlier.

Yet,  after a long and hard period of pondering, you managed to surprise yourself once again after you realized you wanted to keep it.

After all, that could be the only piece of Steve you had left.

----

You began to tell yourself that Steve was dead. That was somehow less painful than the idea that he left you for someone that he barely knew, yet had fallen so hard for nearly 70 years ago. You refused to let yourself fall for anyone else romantically, now that you were aware that anyone had the capacity to leave you at any time, no matter how deep you perceived your relationship to be.

You guarded your heart, and made sure to only let in those that you knew you could trust for a fact. For the remainder of your pregnancy, only your closest family members and friends stood by your side.

About 8 months later, you brought a small, but healthy infant into the world. From that moment on, you promised yourself to become the best version of yourself that you could be. No dwelling on the past, and no yearning for what could’ve been. Your only duty now was to provide the best life possible for your offspring.

So you did.

----

You stood in the kitchen, peeling an orange for your son before he bounded into the room. You turned and gave him a big grin, and he grinned back to you.

“Did you get dressed all by yourself?” You asked him excitedly, receiving a nod in return before he ran up to your leg, and hugged it.

“I did, Mommy!” He looked up at you with his soulful eyes, and you couldn’t help but to feel bombarded with emotion.

Even at the tender age of five, Grant seemed to become a bit more like his father every day. The shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the sound of his giggle. To the average onlooker, he came across as the same as any other child, but to you, your son was the splitting image of Steve.

“Good work, little man. Now go sit at the table so mommy can finish breakfast, okay?” He didn’t even bother confirming with you before more or less sprinting to the table. You couldn’t help but to ask yourself if your son had obtained all of that energy and speed from his father as well.

Breakfast was over almost as soon as it started, and before you knew it, you were warming up your car after you’d assisted Grant with brushing his teeth.

You were in an oddly nostalgic mood that day, playing music from a time period before you’d even imagined bringing another life into the world. You glanced up at the rearview mirror and watched your son happily bop his head to the beat. You thought in passing about how much of a gift he truly was.

After arriving at his school, you hopped out of the car and over to the furthest seat in the back, where he’d insisted on sitting that day.

“You ready, big guy?” You questioned while reaching out to grab him from the car seat.

“Born ready,” he agreed. You chuckled and shook your head fondly at that while getting him out of the car.

“Who taught you that?”

Grant shrugged, “I came up with it myself.”

“I’m sure. Can you hold my hand while we’re out please?” You reached out for him, and he gladly obliged.

You soon became distracted by a large man across the street, his built figure and light blonde hair making you recall the father of your child. You gave Grant’s hand a light squeeze and continued to approach the door, not being able to help yourself, and glancing over at the man one last time.

Except this time was different. Your eyes locked with the blonde man outside of the coffee shop across the street unexpectedly. Where you once thought casually to yourself that it looked like Steve, you now had confirmation that it was in fact the man who you’d fallen in love with, and found yourself pregnant by.

You audibly gasped, receiving a bit of a questioning look from your child. Your heart dropped as a metric ton of emotions hit you all at once, anger, sadness, confusion. Everything you told yourself you needed to repress, had suddenly come back to you all at once.

Even from a distance, you swore you could see his eyes flit from you to Grant, and the next thing you knew, he was approaching your direction. Looking for an easy out, and a distraction from your rather observant child, you quickly caused a misdirection.

“Grant, is that Stacey over on the playground? You should totally go show her that new version of tag that you were telling me about!”

Your son, ever the speedster, booked it towards the playground, and you let out a sigh of relief. Although, the relief didn’t last long, as just moments later, Steve was almost all the way up to you. As you turned to try to escape, you felt a hand on your arm.

“Y/N?” He asked, almost timidly.

You weren’t even sure what to say. In fact, you didn’t feel like you had control of your own body at this point. “Steve? I-“ You ran a hand through your hair and bit the inside of your lip. “You need to go.” The pain that was rushing through you was too much for you to bare, especially considering the man who caused the hurt had suddenly decided to reappear in your life after giving you a world of self doubt and abandonment issues.

Steve seemed hurt by your statement, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand to even look at his face. “Please, Y/N, let me explain,” he begged.

“No, Steve. You don’t get that luxury. You left me for someone else, and I guess you got to live a nice, long life with her. You don’t get to just show back up in my life when you get bored, okay? I can’t afford to play those types of games anymore. Now if you’d let me go-“ You attempted to get to your car, but Steve side stepped you.

“It wasn’t like that. You know it isn’t like that.”

“Just fucking leave! You have no idea what this has all been like for me. You had your opportunity to leave, and you gladly took it. Stay the fuck out of my life, and the hell away from my son.” You grabbed the handle of your car door and got in, reeling as you watched a dejected Steve walk away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rested your head against the steering wheel. You were feeling way too many emotions to pinpoint exactly how you felt, but you knew that this couldn’t be good.

——

You put a brave face on for your son that day, picking him up from school in a daze, and only half listening to whatever it was that he was telling you.

You felt bad for only being able to nod along to whatever he was saying, and did he just ask you if he could get a dog? Did you just say yes?

You felt like a stranger watching yourself from the outside in. The ghost of the person you’d developed into over the years watching the past version of yourself slip right back into your body, and take over your daily routine through the next few days of your life.

You had an obscene amount of anger that soon dissolved into a deep sadness, and that sadness shorty developed into a morbid curiosity.

You spent an unreasonable, and certainly unhealthy amount of time searching your old lover’s name on tabloid websites and social media, just to see if he’d given a statement on his whereabouts, or a statement about anything at all.

After about day three of your minor internet stalking, you’d had an epiphany while sitting in your office.

You still have Steve’s number saved on your phone.

That was, of course, if it hadn’t changed between now and the years that he’d been off living in the past.

Something about knowing that you were just one text away from him made your heart race with a mixture of nerves and interest. Just one impulsive decision, and you could change the whole trajectory of the rest of your life.

If you got back in contact with Steve, you might not ever be willing to leave him. You refused to make that mistake again.

Until you did.

After reading Grant his nightly bedtime story, then wrapping him tightly in his little bed, you’d decided to treat yourself to a glass of Chardonnay.

It’d been a weird past couple of days. Your time traveling ex had randomly appeared back into your life, your coworkers seemed to get on your nerves a little more every moment you were around them, and Grant had a temper tantrum in the grocery store that afternoon over a chocolate bar, which gained judging stares from customers, and may have made you feel the slightest bit inadequate.

At least that’s what you told yourself as you filled your glass again, because two glasses can’t hurt, and again, since I kinda deserve this extra one, don’t I? The next thing you knew, the bottle was empty, and you were texting Steve for the first time in years.

Y: Is this Steve?

You watched as three white dots hovered on your screen for a moment, disappeared, then came back once again.

S: Is this Y/N?

Y: Yes.

Y: We should tlak

Y: *talk

S: I agree.

Y: So lets

Y: talk

S: I don’t think this is a conversation for texts.

Y: Then call me???????????????????

S: We should talk in person.

Y: Im not gonna do that sober

S: You’re not sober?

Y: do you think id text u sober u big fuckni asshole

S: I guess you’re right

S: So are we gonna talk?

Y: no ur gonna meet me at b cup cafe tomorrow at 10

S: AM or PM?

Y: AM I’m off

S: Are you sure you want to do this?

Y: Say yes before i change my mind

S: I’ll see you there

Y: Bye babydaddy

S: ????

You promptly deleted the messages, tossed your phone somewhere on the sofa, and sunk into the seat. Even in your not-completely-sober state, you already felt the all too familiar sense regret. You dragged the blanket that hung over the top of the sofa over your exhausted body, and closed your eyes, wishing that this was somehow all a dream.

----

It was not all just a dream.

You woke up with dried drool on your chin, and a deep pit of bad feelings and regret in your chest. Of course, you ignored the bad feelings and got ready, business as usual. You successfully dropped Grant off at school with little complications, and found yourself perking up a bit more.

Yet, something still felt slightly off. You reached into the passenger seat for your phone, and as you looked down on it, saw the familiar notification of a calendar event.  

10:00 AM b cup coff w Steeb

You groaned out loud at this. There was no obligation for you to go meet with him, but perhaps going and talking to Steve would bring you some sort of closure. Maybe then you could move on with your life, get with a nice guy who would mean it when he tells you he won't leave you, who loves Grant like he’s his own biological offspring, and to take care of the both of you through thick and thin.

You gladly daydreamed of this fantasy man while driving to the shop, but you couldn’t help but to see Steve’s face doing all of the aforementioned things. Before you even fell pregnant, that’s what you’d truly wanted with Steve. To be a family. To have your definition of home be with your people, rather than a place.

Entering the coffee shop, you briefly ordered your drink before looking around and find Steve sitting alone in a booth, mindlessly stirring around the liquid in his cup.

Timidly, you approached the booth, before setting your purse down and sitting across from him.

“You... you came?” He looked up to you with almost watery eyes.

“Of course I did,” you tried to hold yourself back from mentioning something about following through on your word. You wanted this to be as civil as possible. To build bridges rather than burn them.

“I just didn’t expect to see you in person again. And, you know, you were running a little late,” he added.

“Well, you try waking a five year old up and getting him ready for school every day,” you expelled a humorless chuckle to deflect from the slight agitation you were feeling.

“While you’re hungover?” Steve asked with a bit of a smirk, trying to lighten up the mood.

“While you’re hungover,” You confirmed, genuinely laughing now. It felt good, natural even. You’d kind of forgotten just how pleasant things used to be with Steve.

“Did you mean it last night?” he interrupted the laughter with a serious look.

“I honestly cannot remember anything I said last night. Elaborate, please?”

“That he’s mine. Your son.” He watched you silently nod, then began to speak again, “Wow, I just didn’t realize… How did that happen?” He looked down into his drink nervously.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to recall the exact details, but when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much...” You trailed off, and looked up as a barista called a butchered version of your name.

You were glad to have an excuse to get up and leave for a moment. Adrenaline was racing through your body, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep your composure before you erupted into tears, or had some sort of angry outburst.

Bringing your cup back to the booth, you sat down and took a sip of the scalding drink, “Where did we leave off?”

“I believe you were giving me the birds and the bees?”

“Right! Well, I think you know the rest. I’ll tell you more about Grant later. Right now, I want to know why you left and suddenly decided to come back.” You genuinely felt proud of your delivery. This was the moment you’d practiced in front of the mirror for years, and you didn’t even butcher it.

Steve shook his head and looked into his drink once again. It was so hard to look at you, let alone make eye contact with you, when he knew that he’d been the one to give you an ocean of grief. Yet, he was somewhat intrigued by hearing that his son’s name was his middle name.  

“It’s kind of a long story,” Steve began.

“Good thing we have time,” you crossed your arms as you spoke.

“Well, waking up in a whole new time period isn’t exactly the easiest thing ever. You and me both know I missed it there, and it’s always been more than just nostalgia for me. I truly believed that I belonged back there.”

Of course, you had an idea of this, but hearing Steve confirm what you’d already thought made your insides twist.

“But I was so wrong. More than anything, I guess I was in love with a romanticized version of the past. Of Peggy.”

Hearing her name, especially from Steve, made you bristle. You wanted to interrupt him at this point, but it wouldn’t do you or him any good to become hostile while he explained himself.

“By the time I realized, it was too late. I figured you’d already moved on and found someone else to take care of you, and the world, this world, didn’t really need me anymore. But something possessed me to come back.”

“So you’re telling me that if you stopped being an idiot that just assumes things, we could’ve worked this out before? That you could’ve been an active participant in your son’s life?”

“I guess that’s a good way to interpret that story. I know I haven’t been in his life, but is there any way that I can still meet him?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Yeah, of course. He’s just like,” you sighed a bit to yourself. “He’s like a carbon copy of you. Especially his personality, but like, down to his mannerisms. I always struggled to understand how he could be so much like his dad, and never even had met him. You’ll love him.”

“Even if I didn't like him, I’d still love him.”

“How do you still manage to be such a cheeseball all the damn time? You think you’d be able to make it to dinner tonight?”

----

At exactly 6:30 on the dot, your doorbell rang, and before you even had the chance to think about opening it, Grant already was at the door, and opening it. You cringed on the inside, and made a mental note to have another conversation about stranger danger with him.

“Do I know you? Who are you?” you heard your child question from the other room as you set down the last of the plates in your dining room.  

“I’m Steve, your mom’s friend... and…” Steve nearly spilled the beans to his son, but didn’t want to cause any more damage than he’d already done. “Her friend.”

“That’s so cool! I have friends too, like Nick, and Stacey, and,” you’d rushed up to the door and wiped your brow, internally hoping that you hadn’t just smudged the makeup you’d put on for the occasion.

“Hi, Steve, come on in,” You beckoned him in, and pulled Grant to the side, quietly scolding him before leading Steve into the dining room. “Grant! This is the last time I’m telling you about opening doors, okay?” He nodded obediently, then followed you and Steve.

“Can I sit next to your friend, Mommy?”

“Is that alright with you, Steve?”

“More than fine.”

Grant sat down next to him, and scooted a bit closer than necessary, while you sat across from the two of them.

“I have to in… enter a gate you now. Because Mommy never brings any over her friends over. I didn’t know she had any friends.”

You blushed a bit at this, at your son’s overdramatic behavior, and his admission that you’d become a bit of a loner.

“Go ahead, pal,” Steve chuckled heartily.

“When did you meet my mom?”

“Before you were even born.”

“Wow! That’s a long time. You’re really old. What’s your favorite dinosaur?”

“I’ve heard T-Rexes are pretty cool.”

“Have you met any?”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. If only your son had known.

“Nope, never. Have you?”

“Hmm, not yet. But they’re my favorite dino too. Now your ‘gating is over.”

You couldn’t help but to burst out into laughter at the bizarre exchange, but you were glad that your son and Steve were getting along so well.

The rest of dinner went pretty similarly, with Grant bantering with Steve, and Steve indulging him. You could tell that the relationship between the two of them was something that came both naturally and easily. You couldn’t help but to grin as Grant began to ramble about how cool Steve was, and how he swore he was better friends with Steve than you were.

“Mommy, isn’t Steve the best? You guys should totally get married so he can have dinner with us every day!” he swooned. “He even kinda looks like me, right?!”

That’s why you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.

“Grant, Steve is… He’s your dad,” you said quietly.

Grant nodded, then slurped up a noodle, “That’s why he’s so cool! He gets it from me, right Mom?”

“That sounds right to me,” You glanced up at Steve, and noticed his surprised expression. You mouthed something along the lines to ‘He’ll process it later,’ and waved a dismissive hand, before going in for another bite of food.

----

After putting Grant to bed, You and Steve stood at your kitchen sink, bumping elbows occasionally as the two of you silently worked together to wash and dry dishes.

The domesticity and familiarity of the action brought you an obscene amount of comfort. You remembered how you once believed that this is what your future would look like. Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve beginning to talk.

“Doesn’t this remind you of life after the first snap?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Kind of. You’re not off the hook yet, by the way. You still have plenty of explaining and proving you’ve changed to do.” You set the last cup in the cupboard, then dried your hands off.

“I know, I know,” Steve began.

“We don’t even know if you’re ready for fatherhood. But right now, I kinda don’t care. I really just want you to kiss me.” You reached up to Steve’s cheek, and he pulled you in for a soft and chaste kiss.

You’d never felt more at home.

——

me with this fic:

[wizkiddx]

your song blurb

hello!! sorry ive been so inactive and I have got a number of req that I am trying to work through - I am sorry, please be as patient as you can with me. general life shit and all hasn't been ideal. I am aware I reaaallly need to update my master list and will get round to it when I can I promise ;)

also have lots of asks abt the t + z situation but all I have to say is im so very happy for them and hope people respect their privacy ;)

harryhollandxreader // friends --> lovers blurb

summary: harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

//////////////////////////

There were some things that Harry, even after being friends for years, kept close to his chest. The one that you always tried to catch him out on was his singing. For some unknown reason, he was super self conscious of it. Every time he was nonchalantly humming along to himself, all it took was for you to make a single sound, and he’d immediately lock his mouth shut. From those fleeting moments, you had thought he didn’t even sound half bad, hence where your frustrations drew.

Because whilst you, who sounded like a cat being tortured, would scream your lungs out - Harry, who wasn’t even that bad, refused to make a fool out of himself.

It was exactly what had happened this evening when you had let yourself into Tom’s house otherwise unannounced. It’d been years since you’d been given a spare key by Harry - when they were both away, you often ‘house-sat’ for Tom; plus, you spent most evenings there too because that was where your best mate was.

Tom had messaged on the group chat to say he would be out for the evening, and Haz was around his girlfriends tonight, meaning on arrival, you’d known it’d just be you and Harry. So once you heard the quiet tune of a song, that you couldn’t quite place yet, safe to say you were on stealth mode. Sliding your shoes off and wincing as the floorboards creaked a little, you slowly crept through the house to find your frizzy-haired friend.

Sure enough, as you made your way through the kitchen, you found him stood over the hob, stirring round a wooden spoon of a saucepan - presumably filled with pasta he’d promised to have ready for you. Pouting as you leaned on the doorframe and crossed your arms, marvelling at him. He was dressed just in grey joggers and his favourite pink hoodie, arms rolled up to his elbow as the poor boy slaved away at the stove.

You stayed silent, to what you now recognised as billy joel, only unable to stifle a giggle when he reached a particularly high note. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, he jumped around and yelled, eyes fiery and pointed at you.

“OH fuck off Y/n!!”

“Billy Joel, an old school choice.” You smirked, now walking into the room to greet him properly.

“How long have you been stalking on me?”

“It’s not stalking if the stalkee gave me the key.”

“I don’t think that’s admissible in court.” He deadpanned back, pouting for a couple more seconds before finally shooting you a wide grin. The boy held his arms out, welcoming you into a proper greeting hug. Happily reciprocating, you inhaled deeply with your face pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

“How was work?” He murmured, already guessing the answer correctly.

“Shit. Exhausting. Hell, you want any more adjectives?” Harry just snorted back as you leaned away from his warmth.

“Nah rule of three is quite enough. Did you never pay attention in GCSE english?”

“Fuck off you can’t even spell GCSE.”

That was always how your friendship had been; it had always been a piss-taking battle. You simply were one of the boys - or at least that’s what you thought. Said boys though (meaning Sam, Tom, Harrison, Tuwaine and even Paddy) disagreed. You didn’t know, or didn’t believe, that Harry did NOT treat you like one of the boys. He cared about you differently, too. Tom thought it didn’t stop there, that Harry did in fact love you.

And yes, you might’ve admitted to Harrison on one very, very drunken night that you had occasionally thought of Harry as something more than your sarky friend. He had been since sworn to silence, though Haz had in fact, told Tom - who only replied with an ‘i told you so’.

Even though everyone else saw your relationship as complicated, to you and Harry it was just simple. You were just the best of friends.

And that’s how the evening went. The two of you were just messing around as usual; after eating the tomatoey pasta creation Harry had tried, you both made a right mess of the washing up - water ending up coating the floor and maybe one of the walls too (Tom would never know). And just like usual, it ended with you sprawled out on one sofa, Harry mirroring you on the adjacent one.

It was love island season, which meant every night at 9 pm there was only one place on earth either of you would be. On your respective sofas, watching the most trashy tv in the world.

Tonight though, no matter how excited you were for the next instalment of who-likes-who, your day of work caught up with you. Not that you noticed, but you’d pretty much passed out as soon as the opening scenes started. There were only two minutes of silence before Harry registered something was up - typically, he was trying to make you shut up so he could actually hear the TV. To investigate, he jumped off the sofa and leaned over the couch, the sight making him pout.

He knew work had been super stressful recently; and he also knew that your insomnia had been coming back with a vengeance. So instead of treating you like ‘one of the boys’ and throwing things until you woke up - Harry used a different approach. He draped the blanket that hung off the side of the sofa over you, biting back a slight smile as you huffed in appreciation for the soft quilt. Then Harry left you alone, knowing you could do with every little bit of rest you could get.

That was all good until it reached the third set of adverts when Harry heard you huff and move about on the sofa. And then again and again. Then again with what sounded like a bit of whimper too.

Brows furrowed, he paused the TV and slowly got up, rounding the sofa to see you somewhat matching his expression. Your face was contorted in one of distress, and you kept thrashing your head from side to side of the pillow. It didn’t take a genius to work out; this was your nightmares rearing their ugly heads.

Harry just wanted to stop this for you. Although the two of you were never particularly ‘mushy’ or vulnerable with each other - he knew just how much you were suffering recently. So without much thought into it, Harry knelt down to sit on the floor, side leaning up against the sofa as he looked towards you. Trying to hush you, he ran his hand over your forehead and over the top of your hair, though it seemed to take little effect. And then, again entirely without hesitation, Harry started to softly sing.

It’s a little bit funny

This feeling inside

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

Why Elton John was the first that came to mind was a mystery to Harry - except maybe that the lyrics ran true a little.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done

I hope you don’t mind

I hope you don’t mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

You’d always loved old 70s music, you were the one that had properly got you into all that stuff - the beatles, billy joel, elton, even a bit of springsteen. He owed half his music taste to your Spotify playlists, even if he’d never admit it to your face.

So excuse me forgetting

But these things I do

You see I’ve forgotten, if they’re green or they’re blue

Anyway the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

With a final huff, you finally settled down, Harry swore he could see all the discomfort literally melting away from your face. It took a minute but your breath evened out, mumbling something incomprehensible as you curled up toward him on the edge of the sofa.

This wasn't the first time he’d sang to you in your sleep - and he sort of hoped it wouldn't be the last either.

feedback is really appreciated <3

harry taglist : @euphorichxlland @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @crossyourpeter @hallecarey1

[drwcn]

chengqing short [5]: jiang cheng always wanted a big family...it really is too bad that all of his children are right terrors. He blames wei wuxian. 

follow up to [4] part of btsf au, including other chengqing shorts [0] [1] [2] [3]   

No sooner than his giving orders to have the disciple look for Modian did Jiang Cheng realize his mistake. Really, there was only a handful of people who could’ve taken it. He was sure he had left it on last night before he’d gone to bed. Halfway during the night, he and Wen Qing had been woken up by pattering little feet and tearful hiccups and a nursemaid’s apologetic whisper from outside the door: 

“Zongzhu, a million apologies, but liu-guniang was woken up from a bad dream and insisted on coming straight to you.”  

Naturally, that meant Wen Ran got to sleep the rest of the night in her favourite spot – in between her parents.

When dawn came, Wen Qing and Wen Ran were gone, and so was Modian. Jiang Cheng knew that Wen Qing and a-jie had an accursed game of morning weiqi planned. It was a tradition the two started nearly a decade back. They’d always work up a competitive appetite trying to outsmart each other over a game of domination between black and white pieces, and then take that aggressive energy to the conference hall where they then reigned over crusty old men who still stubbornly clung to days of cultivation’s past. 

Jiang Cheng usually slept in. He hated politics. 

Sometimes he joined Wei Wuxian, who also hated politics, in his day drinking. 

He was a little surprised this morning, however, when he woke up without a small foot in his face and a six-year-old terror star-fishing across the bed. Wen Ran was not known to be a morning person, but he’d just assumed that Wen Qing had asked the servants to carry their daughter back to her own room. 

It wasn’t until he realized modian was gone that he began to suspect that maybe the little rascal was up to something. 

Sometimes he hated being right. 

“Here, let me.” Jiang Cheng took the tail end of the whip from Wen Qing, and the weapon, recognizing its master, quietly slithered back around his wrist. His other hand fell on the hilt of Sandu and from its sheath, dark smoke rose up in ghostly tendrils. The re-forged sword, an amalgamation of his old Sandu and the Yin blade from the Xuanwu cave, was a thing to be feared. “Quite an interesting morning you’ve all had. I’m sure an even more interesting day awaits you once your mother decides on your punishment.”

He felt Qishan Wen’s disciples growing tense, weary of him and his powers still. Even his five sons straightened up unconsciously. Everyone had cottoned on to the fact that Sandu Shengshou was cross. All, except his youngest and only daughter, who either could not tell or simply refused to be cowed (probably the latter). Facing her Father and Mother’s displeasure, Wen Ran merely pouted and looked up to her oldest brother for help.

Wen Shuo was no match for those watery puppy dog eyes (apparently, she learned it from their cousin Lan Sizhui. A-Shuo always knew that good rice-ball shtick was just an act. Nobody could be best friends with chaotic gremlin Lan Jingyi and still be that much of a goody two-shoes). 

“Da’ge …” Those rose-petal like lips quivered.

Wen Shuo caved. He stepped forward, hands clasped in an deep bow. 

“Mother, Fa – uhm, Shengshou,” Wen Shuo corrected himself, seeing that they were out in the open. Technically speak, the disciples of Qishan Wen “didn’t know” who had sired their Sect Master’s children, but after seventeen years, this was hardly a secret anymore. Even the oldest alchemist in their apothecary who was ninety-seven years old and 70% deaf and blind knew what Sect Master Wen and Sandu Shengshou got up to behind closed doors. Still, it was cultivation conference season. Some plausible deniability still had to be maintained.

“Apologies, Shengshou for my little sister’s behaviour. I am the oldest. It is my responsibility to supervise my brothers and sister, a duty which I have failed to do. What’s more, I have participated in encouraging their misbehaviour. If punishment must be dealt, I shall bear the full extent of it.”

Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng exchanged a knowing look. Wen Shuo really was the most dependable, responsible child out of them six. Jiang Cheng knew that Wen Qing didn’t like to admit that she has a favourite, but if she did, it would be her firstborn.

And perhaps because of this, she expected so much more from him. 

“A-Shou, you’re the oldest. Is this how you role-model for meimei and didi-men?” Wen Qing scolded. “xiao-Ran is six and knows not right from wrong, but no such excuse can be made for you.”

Wen Qing never yelled, but anyone who knew her could tell, she was really mad. “Right now Qishan Wen is hosting cultivators from across the land. Gentry and rogues alike are here within our walls and under our roof. You are all hosts and represents not just yourselves but our entire clan. Just then, Wen Ran nearly took out Sect Master Yao’s eyes with Modian if I hadn’t stopped her. It goes without saying that I expected more from all of you.”

Wen Shuo got on his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground. “Mother is right to reprimand me. I accept my punishment.” 

Their brother’s willigness to always take heat for their shenanigans had saved them from many close calls growing up, but Wen Jin and Wen Di were not about to let Wen Shuo go down for something of this magnitude. Stealing modian and using it to play marco polo was not Da’ge’s idea at all. Technically speaking it was Wen Ran’s initiative, Wen Di’s idea, Wen Jin’s persuasion, flamed to life by Wen Heng and Wen Lu’s combined chaotic energy. 

Wen Jin stepped forward and knelt down beside Wen Shuo, followed swiftly by Wen Di. “Mother, Shengshou. This is not Da’ge’s fault at all. It’s ours. Meimei was feeling lonely and left out when she saw all of us cultivating. We wanted it to be fun for her so we devised the game. Da’ge tried to rein us in, but Mother you know us - five against one, Da’ge only stayed to supervise! This is the truth, Mother!” 

Wen Heng and Wen Lu shuffled up to the older boys, quietly sunk down to their knees as well, and mumbled, “It’s not Da’ge’s fault.” 

Chastised, the boys hung their heads and fell silent. 

Wen Ran pursed her lips at her brothers - absolutely useless in her eyes now. She’ll just have to save the lot of them. With practiced ease, she latched onto Jiang Cheng’s leg and whimpered masterfully, “爹爹，阿娘又凶哥哥们! ” (Daddy, Mama is being mean to brothers again.)

And there she goes, carelessly erasing any trace of plausible deniability of her parentage. Good thing only Wen disciples were around. They had long mastered the art of pretending to not exist.

Jiang Cheng would love to brag that he was the disciplinary figure between himself and Wen Qing, but anybody who even knew them remotely knew that this was not the least bit true. His children and especially Wen Ran shamelessly and mercilessly took advantage of this fact. 

True to form, Jiang Cheng sighed and bent down to pick up his little girl. “Alright, alright, Ran’er, diedie is not mad anymore. It’s not a big deal,” he said to Wen Qing. “The children just wanted to play.”

Wen Ran pressed her little face into her father’s neck and stole a playfully shy glance at her mother. “A-niang, don’t be mad anymore. Ran’er knows what she’d done wrong.”

Wen Qing knew she was being manipulated, oh but what the hell. The gods only blessed her with one daughter. Sighing, she stepped forward and helped Wen Shuo to his feet. “A-Shuo, you are my firstborn, my heir. I know you’re very diligent with your studies and very good to your brothers and little sister. I am proud of you, and for that I will be hard on you; do you blame a-niang?” 

Wen Shuo blushed. “No Mother...a’niang. I...A-Shuo understands.” 

Wen Qing smoothed wrinkles from her son’s shoulders and smiled. “You’ll be in attendance today at the conference, as our clan’s Wen-da-gongzi. Go on, freshen up. I’ll see you soon.” 

Wen Shuo nodded, smiling. 

Wen Qing then turned to four matching shit-eating grins from the other rascals waiting to be pardoned as well. “A-Jin, you will report to your jiujiu in the apothecary. Clearly, if you have time playing marco polo with your sister, I’m not assigning you enough duties.” 

“But a-niang ~” 

“And you three, being knocked off your swords like that by you little sister who is six and can’t even fly. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed. Report to your da’shixiong for sword practice. I will be coming to inspect you at the end of the week.” 

“A-niaannng~~~”  

 “Go on.” 

“A-diee~~~”

“Listen to your A-niang.” 

Wen Di, Wen Lu and Wen Heng groaned and admitted defeat. Their sister Ran’er shot them an innocent smile as they slinkered off to practice. The little devil... 

They watched her reach for Wen Qing from Jiang Cheng’s hold and make grabby little motions with her hands. Aw shit, her killer move. “阿娘抱抱.” (Mama hug hug).  

The three younger Wen boys rolled their eyes. So much for bringing xiao-Ran to heel. Mother has clearly admitted defeat this one time. It may or may not have to do with the fact that Wen Ran was absolutely fearless with Modian. Even blind folded she had knocked Wen Di - five years her senior - off his sword, a feat none of them could claim they could do at her age. 

Better get to practice then...can’t let a six year old beat them again... 

“Ran’er, look at me.” Wen Qing jostled the child a little. “Do you know what you did wrong, today?” 

“Yes...” 

“Which is?” 

“I shouldn’t have stolen a-die’s weapon and played with it carelessly.” 

“And do you promise not to do it again?” 

“Hm...” 

“Wen Zhuoyang.” 

“I promise, a’niang.” 

“Good. Now,” Wen Qing pressed kisses against Ran’er’s left ear, eliciting a string of giggles as the child shied away from the tickle. “Did you really knock your brothers off their swords?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl.”

--

i regret nothing. this is more me and myself. not proofread bc aint nobody has time for that

[mio-parasite]

Lovely - M!Robot (Zach) X GN!Human Render

Warning: mention of physical and emotional abuse.

I'm sorry for the bad spelling and bad English

◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ ❁ ◦ ❖ ◦ 

The great technological breakthrough had brought great things to make people's lives simpler, including a robot known as l1f3 that would allow you to be a beloved of the house flawless. Trouble finding a good babysitter? No problem, l1f3 can take care of your children without worry. Is your husband or wife cheating on you with the housekeeper? Say no more, l1f3 is the perfect machine for making household things. Don't worry about your partner, l1f3 just obeying a single word that you, our great buyer, will have the privilege to program before turning it on. Take it now!! It will change your life forever.

More than 10 years have passed since the day this announcement was published; L1f3 was already in its latest version. It was the most sought-after robot since it went on the market, its main characteristics had evolved to make it a total slave of the human being. On the other hand, you didn't have an l1f3 in your possession, not precisely because you didn't have enough money to buy one, but because you preferred to do things at home the traditional way, with your own hands. Many of your co-workers knew about this and on more than one occasion they came to offer you their l1f3 at a very low price, since several of them were going to buy the new version that would come out.

Come on friends is the best offer nor will black Friday give you an offer as it is. - said his co-worker.

Tom I already told you I like to do things on my own, when I'm an old man of 89 years I'll think about getting one - you answered although deep down it was just a lie - maybe you'll only get some old people's home - well, until tomorrow Tom.

Until tomorrow. - I answer his companion almost reluctantly.

You left your work building to go to the corner parking lot. It was kind of sad that your work building didn't have a parking lot of its own but you couldn't ask much of a building that's more than 70 years old.

When you got to the parking lot you passed by the guard who as always was sleeping, you took a slight sigh to go under the fence and finally get to your car but something caught your attention a young man who was lying on the driver's door of your car.

Hey, are you okay? - you approached quickly, he seemed to be sleeping maybe he jumped glasses and was going to get into his car that was next to yours but his body can't stand the amount of alcohol was a good theory not the first time you run into a drunk in the parking lot - friend wake up I must go home.

When you put your hand on his shoulder, a strange sensation of something wet made you jump out of fright. When you turned on the light you realized that that liquid in your hand was blue but the sensation was not like paint much less it had smell it was strange that thing that was blue in your hand didn't seem you had seen it before.

You pointed your flashlight at the young man who was sitting with his back against the door of your car. Poor robot maybe they assaulted him or he was also one of those extremist groups that are finding that robots are living with humans. Well whatever the case you could not leave it thrown there is also so far do not think that there is a mechanic available also its owner may be looking for it would be good to look for the owner, but one of your friends explained that if you enter the official site of the company l1f3 and put the first four digits of the barcode that is in the back of the neck of the robot you can find its owner with his contact number in case you lost the robot.

That was quite timely but that time with your friend they put Numbers up out of sheer boredom finding the large number of people who owned one in their home even if it was low resources is surprising that much of society is dependent on these robots but there is no more time to digress you have to act the robot is in a bad situation. You approached her slowly to move her neck very carefully but when you gave her a little push to separate her head from the door your wrist was grabbed very tightly.

What do you think you're doing!? - said the robot with anger in his eyes.

"I just want to help," you answer somewhat scared. "it was all so sudden."

Lie - exclaimed the robot- you just want to disarm me and sell my parts as scrap.

It's not true - you answered somewhat altered it seemed that his grip was stronger, it was hurting you. - my pity, let me go. please

The robot gave you a last look at Stan before releasing you definitely, you weighed your wrist and then turned your gaze to the robot that was still sitting seemed so upset but also hurt not only in appearance but also emotionally.

You can really believe me or not but I won't hurt you, I just want to help you - you told the robot as you raised your hands in a signal that you had nothing planned to attack it.

Why? - answered the robot.

What? - you looked at him confused.

Because you want to help me, not since I am just an old-fashioned tin because not selling my parts or sending me to the nearest dump is not easier that I say - I bitterly laugh - there are thousands as I am easy to replace get a new one.

Hey don't say that - the robot looks at you mockingly - I know it sounds stupid but I don't think it's replaceable - sure your owner misses you.

So my owner - he laughed again with bitterness - he was the one who did this to me you know - he said pointing to his wound on his face - he already has two other new models I was only adorning for the bizarre wishes of his eldest daughter where I was his feet, a parparry table and... And... - the robot made a big pause while he clenched his fist - then I got tired of that deal and wanted to run away but my owner wouldn't let me shoot myself so I wouldn't run away but didn't let me not this time so despite that I just ran, ran and ran without looking back until I couldn't stand it anymore I came to hide here after you appeared.

Oh wow - you were really surprised poor robot deserves to be free - thank you for sharing this with me.

Yes - a little laugh of tiredness came out of the lips of that robot - honestly it was rare for me to think that only the information came out. - the robot replied.

Let me take you to my house tomorrow we'll go with a mechanic and you'll go do whatever you want outside - you tell the robot you think it really deserves something better.

Wait what!? - the robot was really surprised by your proposal - because you would do that for me we hardly know each other.

"That's true," you replied, "but it's not good to leave you here either."

I smiled at him, the robot didn't have many options to go with you even if it's quite a lie what you say doesn't matter anymore after all the robot already knows that its fate will be destruction so shit matters.

"Okay, I'll go with you," says the robot as he gets out of the ground.

You couldn't help but give that machine a slight smile.

By the way, what's your name? - you ask him while driving your vehicle.

There was no immediate response just when you left the parking lot to reach a traffic light.

"I have no name," he says as he looks out the window, "it's not something we're made to carry names.

But what do you say!? - surprised - well if you're thinking of leaving your life behind it would be good to give yourself a name.

The robot takes his eyes out of the window to stare with confused faces.

You deserve a name - not just calling yourself for who you are - you are entitled to a name - you answer.

Right you say - the robot seems to look away again at the sale - you're ridiculous you knew.

What about William or jack? , alex is also a good name, there's also brendon, Cody, tayler, josh - you say random name hoping your companion will say something.

Are you serious? - I ask the robot in confusion.

Oh you prefer more foreign names you could be Francisco, akira, Bruno - you keep suggesting names the rest of the way.

Enough is enough... Zacharie - I answer zacharie while you smile.

Zacharie if it suits you I could also tell you zach for short - you answer him with joy.

At last they reach their destination their beautiful home, look at zach a little worried about his condition.

Zach I hope to help you and that you can be free, maybe can not promise me that everything will go well 100% but I will. - zach will just seem more confused but deep down his metallic self wants to have some confidence in you.

[mimisempai]

You can grow flowers from where dirt used to be

Summary :

"You want to climb out of the hell you're in, do the work. Do it."

Bucky bravely chooses to follow the path Sam has shown him, no matter what. What he doesn't know is that he may find more than appeasement at the end of the road...

Words 2706 - Rating G

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30911399

As Bucky walked away from the Wilson's garden, he heard the steady sound of the shield bouncing against the trees in the distance and his friend's voice began to echo in his head.

"You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are."

As Bucky walked away from the Wilson's clearing, he heard the steady sound of the shield bouncing against the trees in the distance and his friend's voice began to echo in his head.

"You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are."

Bucky's throat tightened the same way it had when Sam had said those words to him.

Since he had come back and almost become himself again, no one, not even Steve, had said something like that to him.

In fact, since he had fallen off the train over 70 years ago, this was the first time anyone talked to him like that. He was so used to taking orders, going where he was told, fighting when he was told, that he didn't know what else to do.

Sam hadn't told him who to be, but thanks to him Bucky was beginning to see who he could be.

"You want to climb out of the hell you're in, do the work. Do it."

Sam hadn't given him an accusative look, hadn't judged him when he pointed out that Bucky wasn't making amends. That he was avenging his victims by catching the bad guys he'd enabled by being the Winter Soldier. Sam had just suggested another way, that Bucky's closure was possible through the closure of those he had harmed by taking the life of one of their own.

" I'm sure there's at least one person in that book who needs closure about something, and you're the only person who can give it to 'em."

When Bucky told him there were dozens of them, for a moment he didn't dare turn his head for fear of reading the blame in Sam's eyes. But the man had simply said that it was cool, that he should start with one. In his eyes, there was no judgment, just trust, the trust that he had had from the beginning and that had remained, unshakeable despite Steve's departure. Bucky decided that he would never do anything to break that trust.

So as he walked along, he opened his notebook and looked through the list of names. He was going to make amends, whatever it took. He would save the two hardest ones for last. He would go through with it.

Later, as he was on the plane waiting to leave, looking out the porthole in what seemed to be the direction of Sam's house, he picked up his phone.

He wrote just two word.

Thank you.

He was ready. And once he got to the end, then maybe he could ... he shook his head, it was way too early. He had to do everything first to be worthy of the trust Sam had in him.

Lulled by the hum of the plane's engine, he let his mind drift off to sleep.

____

Sam continued to throw the shield for an hour before deciding to go for a run.

The first few minutes were always the same, he always expected to hear "On your left." and get passed by Steve. He knew that would never happen again. Of course it made him a little nostalgic, but just like a memory of the good old days. Something good that one liked to reminisce about. He then thought of Bucky who had barely found his friend to see him off again, who had many more memories with Steve than he did.

Bucky. It had taken all the courage in the world to let him go. To keep the handshake casual. Sam knew he had to give the man time to fully liberate himself.

They were learning to relate to each other without the bond that had brought them together, without the shadow of Steve.

Sam was beginning to see the Bucky that Steve had told him about. Sure, Bucky would never go back to the way he was, who could after going through what he had, but he would get back to the part of himself that had been suppressed for so long.

"It's just, that shield's the closest thing I've got to left a family, so when you retired it, it made me feel like I had nothing left."

Sam realized at those words the impact his decision to retired the shield had had on Bucky. Now that he had more time to think about it, he realized the deeper implication of Bucky's words.

It was Steve who had made the connection between Sam and Bucky. Bucky must have thought that if the shield, what was left of Steve to bind them, was gone, then Sam would have no connection to him.

Everything in Bucky's words screamed that.

"It made me question everything. You, Steve, me"

Sam's heart began to beat faster, but he refused for the moment to determine if it was in reaction to what Bucky's words revealed or to the physical exertion.  He didn't have time for that.

Sam was afraid he had been too tough on Bucky, when he had talked to him about making amends.  But he had heard his nightmares last night, he had seen the pain in his eyes when he had asked if he was still having them. Bucky had a right to be free of that and if that meant Sam had to be the one to tell him the raw truth then he would. And so he had.

He stopped to catch his breath. His phone vibrated in his pocket, it was a message from Bucky.

B: Thank you.

He breathed a sigh of relief, releasing a tension he didn't think he had. It seemed that his attachment to Bucky was already much deeper than he thought.

Sam answered the message right away, although the man wouldn't be able to read it for a few hours.

S: I have only shown you the way, the rest is in your hands. I have faith in you.

He put the phone back in his pocket. He had to keep practicing if he wanted to live up to the shield.

_____

Sam had been sitting for several minutes contemplating the suitcase that Bucky had brought him. He couldn't bring himself to open it. His cell phone screen lit up with a new message from Bucky.

B: First one, crossed out.

Sam figured if Bucky was working so hard, then Sam had to do the same. He stood up, opened the suitcase and contemplated his new armor for a few seconds.

He took a picture of it and sent it to Bucky with these words:

S: I'm ready.

He saw the dots dancing on the screen and waited for the answer, which was not long in coming.

B: I never doubted it.

S: Thank you.

B: For what?

S: For believing I was worthy of carrying the shield in my own way.

B: You said it yourself right ? It doesn't matter what Steve thought. You said it for me, but it's also true for you. The shield, Captain America, it's what YOU do with it that matters.

Sam had to restrain himself from calling Bucky, to hear him say it in person, to tell him in person, but he knew that if he did, the miss would be even worse. He shouldn't rush things, they were both on their own initiation path and they had to keep moving forward, each one separately for now.

S: I'll say it again, thank you. I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Good night Bucky.

His thumb danced over the sending button and then he added these last words.

S: Good luck for the next one.

The answer came back quickly.

B: Good night, Sam.

_____

With each new name crossed out the notebook, Sam received a message and with each message he intensified his training.

Today after Karli and the GRC, as he was leaving the Smithsonian Air and Space museum with Isaiah and his grandson, his phone vibrated again. He opened it with anticipation.

B: Last name on my list, I'm at the door.

S: Where are you? I'll meet you there.

B: By Nakajima Yori, I'll send you the address.

S: Okay. I'll wait for you in front of his house.

B: Okay.

Sam turned to Isaiah and his grandson, "May I leave you here, I really need to see a friend. You know him, Bucky."

Sam turned to Isaiah and his grandson, "May I leave you here, I really need to see a friend."

He was starting to walk away not waiting for the answer  when Isaiah held him by the arm and said simply, "He'll never forget, but he'll learn to live with what he did. It will take time, but with you around, I have no doubt he will. Tell him if he needs to talk, my door is open." and at Sam's surprised face -after all Sam knew Isaiah's feelings for Bucky - Isaiah continued, "I did get used to the idea that a black Captain America could make the difference. Things change."

Sam nodded and said simply, "Thank you."

Then he left for the address Bucky had just sent him.

Sam shook his hand and said simply, "Thank you."

Then he left for the address Bucky had just sent him.

____

Bucky knew that he was about to break one of the few bonds he had managed to form since his return. That there would be no more Wednesday meetings. No more matchmaking advice.

And it is with a broken voice that he began, "I, uh, have to tell you something. About your Son."

Yori sat down as Bucky took off his gloves. He didn't have to hide anymore.

"He was murdered."

"What ?"

"By the Winter Soldier."

He paused for a moment before resuming in an even lower voice, "And that was me."

The old man began to cry and asked, "Wh-why?"

And Bucky gave him the only answer he knew to be true, which he had learned to accept but which did not make it any harder to say.

"I didn't have the choice."

As he closed the door, his throat tightened with tears he could not shed. Yori was the only person related to one of his victims that he had a personal connection to. Even though he knew he wasn't him when he did it, he knew that Yori would always see the face of the person who had taken his son from him. Bucky knew he had to remove himself from Yori's life. At least for now.

He walked downstairs and out the door, Sam was waiting for him leaning against his car.

He stopped, ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath. Sam approached him, and simply asked, "You did it man. Are you going to throw away that notebook now?"

"No, I think I'll send it to someone."

Seeing Sam raise an inquisitive eyebrow, he resumed, "To my shrink."

Bucky hesitated a bit before continuing, "I don't have any more names in the notebook, but uh... I need to go see one more person. Will you come with me?"

Sam looked at him a little surprised, before answering, "Sure, man. Come on. You can tell me where we're in the car."

"Actually we have to fly, it's pretty far."

"Good thing I'm on forced leave as there's no bad guys to catch. Where are we going?"

"Fairburn, Georgia."

"Fairb- Oh... okay... I see. Are you sure about this, man?"

"I have to... I have to go all the way."

"Okay." Sam hesitated for just a few seconds, but he couldn't help but squeeze Bucky's artificial hand briefly before saying, "I'll go with you Bucky." and then he started the car.

____

The next day, Sam was just a few steps behind Bucky as they walked through the garden of the Stark's cabin at Fairburn.

Bucky stopped as they approached the boardwalk by the lake and whispered,

"I'd like to go alone first if you don't mind Sam."

Sam moved closer, pressed the tensed man's shoulder without a word and let him walk forward.

He watched him walk to the end of the boardwalk. To the spot where Tony's ashes had been spread. He saw Bucky's lips move as if he were muttering a litany. Suddenly Sam saw him fall to his knees, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Sam couldn't stand by and watch him like that. He went to Bucky, knelt behind him and wrapped his arms around him. The man froze for a brief moment before letting go in the embrace. Sam whispered in his ear, "It's okay Bucky, you can let go, I've got you, I've got you. Let go."

And Bucky let go. Sam held him until the tears dried up, until Bucky's shoulders stopped shaking.

Then he stepped back a little, put his hands on Bucky's shoulders and helped the man up.

Bucky, embarrassed, did not dare to look at him, so Sam simply took his hand, "Come on, let's go sit on the bench." and he led him behind him to the bench under the porch of the uninhabited cabin.

They sat down, Sam did not let go of Bucky's hand, and they sat like that in silence for a long time  until Bucky whispered in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry I put you through this."

Sam put a finger over his mouth to silence him. "I'm here because I want to be. I knew it wouldn't be easy."

"But why? Why would you want to be here?"

"Because I showed you this path, and you had the courage to follow it, and I wanted to be at the end with you. Because it's important to me, you are important to me. You're one of the bravest people I know and man, I'm an avenger, so I know a lot of brave people. You've done everything to free yourself. You took responsibility for things you did that weren't you. You took the opportunity to right a wrong you didn't consciously do. How could I not f-"

Sam paused, realizing what he was about to say.

Bucky had raised his head and Sam could read in the eyes, still blurred from the tears, a glimmer of hope.

Bucky whispered, "How could you not what?"

Sam knew this was one of those moments, like when he was about to spread his wings, just before he jumped. And he jumped.

"How could I not fall in love with you?"

He couldn't tell if it was him or Bucky who had moved forward, or both, but when his lips met Bucky's, he knew that he had made the right decision.

A feeling of joy seized him when he felt Bucky's fingers carding in his hair, pushing him to be even more closer. When the need to breathe made them separate a few minutes later, Sam could not help but stare at Bucky, who did the same.

He saw one last tear pearling at the corner of his eye and ran his thumb over it to wipe it away, and let his hand rest on Bucky's cheek who leaned in.

"I, too, I-" Bucky placed a kiss on his lips as if to build up his courage and continued, "I, too, fell in love with you."

Sam smiled at him and said, "Then everything is fine."

"If you don't mind a work in progress, then yes, everything is fine."

And for the first time since they had left New York, Sam saw the smile he liked best blossom on Bucky's lips. No, on second thought, it wasn't the same smile, on this smile, there was no longer a shadow , it was a smile that took its source in the eyes that shone with a new glow. The glow of someone who has freed himself from a weight that burdened his shoulders. Of a new or rather renewed man.

"We are all works in progress Bucky, that's what makes us human. And this may sound condescending to you, but I am proud of you James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes."

He placed a tender kiss on Bucky's lips, which the other man returned, then leaned against him again, wrapping his arms around his waist. Bucky put his arm around his shoulder.

They sat on the bench for a long time, watching the setting sun reflected on the lake, enjoying each other's presence and the fullness of being where you belong.

[pokedash55]

Ninjobservation #2

Analyzing the Elemental Alliance as a group and uncovering the real reason the Time twins (Twims for short) were "traitors"

So I have rewatched Hands of Time for the 3rd time this past year and Me and my sister Purplefern (She has a ton of good Twims fics on Ao3 ^^) have learned a lot about the old elemental alliance (EA).

THE CLAIM

The EA were a strong clique that did not appreciate the Twim's general attitudes and personalities. Chen saw the growing discourse and manipulated both sides into turning on each other.

[[They be judgin' (””art”” by me) ]]

To start let’s look at all the Leaders of this Alliance

Wu

Wu back before his eventual growth with the ninja was a strict teacher. Morro ran away due to his inability to understand his problems (problems he may have caused with his teachings). He is generally harsh towards the Ninja in season 1, forcing them to train all day because they simply talked during his lesson ("Never trust a snake").

Due to being the son of the FSM he put pressure on himself to always be virtuous and leaderlike (believes he has to uphold order) and he takes this believed expectation of authority to heart. He is no nonsense, yelling at Libber (the Master of Lightning) for simply talking slightly off topic before an important battle. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, according to his own moral standards and does not waver on what he believes is in/appropriate.

Garmadon

Although less righteous than Wu, joining the alliance after the war began, he has also been seen as a strict and serious teacher. Because of the growing venom in his blood I'd argue he was even more strict, less in attitude but more in general rules of law and order. We see in Rebooted that Garmadon set strict rules for himself like "no weapons" to keep his destructive side in check and we know that Young Garmadon is so sensitive to rules as he claims that even reading another's mail is a crime. He joined as a leader and most likely upheld rules not just for the alliance but for his own sake.

Ray and Maya

We see little of them but they are both good friends- and Ray appears to be the right hand man-- of Wu They are such good friends that Ray is the one trusted with the Map to the Golden Weapons. From his tone and diction he seems very dogmatic and if he's anything like Kai, he's quick to assumptions and to attack people who he perceives as bad according to his own strict principles. He just feels like a stuffy guy. I don't have much on Maya but she's a good people person so she gets along with the others really well. Also she married Ray, so that has to say something. They both went along with the Time Blade plan.

Other Elemental observations

 Except for Libber (Lighting), all the Masters are older than the Time twins. (Krux can fight in S7 so he's not older than 70. They are most likely mid to late twenty's during the war)

 The EA is a pre-established group (Garmadon refers to them like they are a pre-existing entity in ToE flashbacks). They were two confident and arrogent twenty year olds strolling into a pre-established clique of old honorable fighters during a war. Not the best time for bonding.

 Ice feels very much like Wu and Garmadon, considering he gave his powers to an analytical robot like Zane is saying a lot about him. He most likely does not tolerate "shenanigans", especially during a war.

They battle in a tight group

Krux and Acronix

These two act like they don't belong in the group. During the party celebrating the end of the war they are seen standing away from the rest and are genuinely happy to be recognized by Wu for their efforts. Although retcon, the two are not seen battling with the rest of the group. They instead most likely are so powerful (and impulsive and difficult to work with) that they are sent on duo missions to protect villages (They are also not the best followers).

It's also a nice parallel to our ninja in ToE. They stuck together like a family and were disliked and excluded from the rest of the EM's. The same could be said for The Twims since they always fought together and were similarly excluded.

Krux

Krux is a planner and a sassy dude. He’s stubborn and will tell people they are wrong to their face. The 16 personalities that matches him best is INTJ (the Architect). This analytical type hates people who are who they consider idiotic, do not participate in formalities, and are aggravated by heavy rules and restrictions made by someone else, especially someone they do not respect (which is most people).

Although we do not see him much as a young man we know that he is prone to grudges and will resort to less kind methods in sake for the means to an end. Definitely not someone Wu and Garmadon would like since they are trying to uphold order and keep a chain of command. But Krux believes in his own plans and his own chain of command. He is not good at small talk and would mostly stick with his brother during group events like meetings and parties, so in general his terrible social skills probably made him pretty unliked.

Acronix

Acronix is quick witted and heavily proud of himself. He won’t admit he is wrong and is very loud in general. This may be a side tangent but Acronix may have ADHD, which would not be understood back in the day and people would regard him as annoying or rude.

EVIDENCE FOR ADHD

-He is shown to stand in a position that suggests hand fidgeting (A LOT)

-Quick to anger over minuscule details

-yeah he's distractible but he's also quick to move through ideas/activities

-impulsive

- During their important battle back in time his attention is on the pretty fusion dragon flying around instead of listening to Kruxs plan of attack.

-His attention shifts to the destiny's bounty and he toys with the ninja despite saying right before he couldn't stay and fight Wu cause he had to meet up with Krux.

- in general he is constantly shifting from idea to idea, oftentimes leaving his original plans completely un-finished

He could have trouble paying attention to meetings and with his bond with Krux and tendency to quick action he would choose his brother's plan and strike independently rather than following whatever Wu is doing. This leads them to fight beside each other alone instead of with the main group, making the elemental alliance think they believe to be better than them. 

In terms of Personality types he’s a hardcore ESTP (Entrepreneur). Like his brother, they are free analytical thinkers who do not respect higher authority simply because they claim to be the leaders and hate rules and regulations getting in the way of their progress. He says what's on his minds regardless of feelings and will defend his opinions despite others sensitivities. He is perceptive enough to pick up on small changes and habits but he is quick to share that knowledge (usually in a snarky remark). I doubt the alliance appreciates what he has to say when he’s blabbering about everything in such a rude tone.

MOE

Now this all may start to look like a silly “Hands of time did nothing wrong” theory. But there is a key factor in this that not many people talk about. The previous Master of Earth (or Moe for short).

We know that Chen manipulated Moe into turning against the alliance so it was not technically his fault. Chen could’ve said that because the serpentine rose from the earth he was entitled to fight for them. Heck he could’ve been 100% hypnotized by Clouse’s dark magic (His eyes were not swirly so it was not hypnobrai like is suggested in WOTD). He is most likely some lovable dummy who was easily swayed and a kind person to apologize once the truth about Chen is revealed (considering that he’s Cole’s grandfather). Moe as a person is fine. What is sketchy is Moe being easily forgiven and allowed into the alliance despite turning on all of HUMANITY. What he did could’ve hurt way more people. He fought with the snakes and attacked innocent people and powerless soldiers (like the rice farmers) and was off scott free! The Twims only fought the elemental alliance and Wu and Garmadon at the monastery. Not nearly as destructive.

They figured out that Chen made the alliance turn on each other after the war and forgave Moe for that, but isn't it strange that they never gave the Time Twins that same benefit of the doubt? We know from “Way of the departed” and general logic that Chen and Clouse helped tip them over the edge. Whether you believe this to be canon or not is irrelevant because if the EA knew that Chen was involved once why would they not assume he was with the time twins too? Seems like they already disliked the two and were just ready for a reason to punish them. All flashbacks we get are told from unreliable sources like Wu and Ray (who both were enthusiastically the ones planning to strip them of their powers.) Speaking of, let’s analyze this example of their “betrayal” shall we?

THE BATTLE IN QUESTION

This is the flashback we get of them fighting against the alliance. The first time you watch it all you really know is that they are fighting against the EA, when Wu is describing their arrogance and the danger of their powers. How evil right? To attack their companions like that? But there is a lot wrong with how Wu phrases the fight and how it actually goes down.

They have Bamboo staffs.

A weapon that is primarily defensive and not a good weapon of choice for a planned ambush or assault. They are non lethal weapons. And Acronix is said on LEGO.com to be quick to learn any weapon so someone as adaptable as he is would not intentionally bring something so weak to a fight unless he had been forced to improvise.

Always on the defensive.

Someone as tactical as Krux and skilled as Acronix would never let themselves be on the defensive like this if they had the first blow. We see that Ray has the first attack in the flashback. Although Acronix is known to jump in without thinking he has his brother who would not just go into a fight just to lose. And even if they did end up on the defensive after having the first strike Acronix has his powers. He would’ve brought both of them out of a situation if things got too hard (which he is known to do in battles HE starts). But they clearly did not start this battle.

They are surrounded.

These two guys with nothing but staffs are encircled? Krux as a planner and Acronix as a quick witted warrior would never let themsleves get into that position if it had been a battle that they had started and had been planning to win. This framing makes it feel like they are being ganged up on.

In a remote location.

The battle takes place on a gravel road no where near a major city. If they wanted to take over wouldn’t they strike somewhere more populated? And if they were attacking the EA...they would have attacked the EA directly. They were probably just walking and talking and got ambushed.

Chen?

Very possible that Chen sent an “anonymous” note to the EA telling them of the Twims plans to attack. They are arrogant, have openly hated Wu’s leadership, and don’t gel with the group so of course they would take a tip like that and attack someone they don’t like. It’s possible they had ideas of taking over the EA but the world seems a bit out of their morality range until provoked.

Now that they have been attacked the two form a real plan to overthrow these fools who don’t like them and have unfairly attacked them (just like Chen had been telling them they were likely to do). They bring real weapons (swords) to an important location (the Monastery) to fight the specific people they do not like (Wu and Garmadon).

The Punishment

Ok so these powerful elemental masters are going to attack the EA. They were once allies and they are too powerful to defeat with their powers. If only there was a way to temporarily suspend their powers so they could talk this out and have an understanding of each other and perhaps uncover Master Chen's involvement-- since the Hands of Time were semi-sensible war heroes who were the sons of a previous master of time who presumably responsibly used the element without issue (and was most likely a samurai since Krux says their helmets are samurai helmets)... sigh too bad there is not such a material… oh wait.

WHAT ABOUT VENGESTONE???

These fools really decided that destroying an important element forever, and violently ripping it out of its users was the only option? There were generations of time elementals before them that had the element. They could throw vengestone nets at them or fight until they get knocked out and then vengestone cage them. But they don’t want to know why they betrayed the alliance. It was not because the element was too dangerous. It was not because they had to strip them of their powers (cause there are less lethal ways of doing so). They just did not give these two any mercy.

CONCLUSION

The Time twins are hard to work with and stuck together no matter what. The alliance is very strict and dogmatic which both Krux and Acronix would hate being trapped in their day to day alliance meetings and group mentality. Chen used their egos and their exclusion to his benefit to keep the fight going after he was banished and sent a letter to start up conflict with the EA. The EA did not like the Twims so they were ruthless and did not give them the same mercy they did for Moe (They also are not Elements of Creation. Wu would do anything to protect the main 4 but he’ll punish these punks).