#becca rambles about the strokes

[indieboysarehot]

THE VOICES THE VOICEEEEEESSSSSSS

[apinchofm]

Ballet

Marcus has a thing for his little sister's ballet teacher. The twins hatch a plan.

Phoebe dropped into a split, smiling at all the little girls and boys in front of her who copied her.

"Yay!" She clapped her hands at the children as the music finished, "Well done, everyone!"

"Thank you, Miss Bee!"

"Bye Phoebe!"

Madame Elena, the ballet company's director and Phoebe's former teacher took Phoebe on as a part-time teacher for the little one's whilst she finished her MA at Oxford. She enjoyed it, teaching the kids, getting to dance again. They were all so creative and excitable and had given her the nickname Bee, given that some of the four and five couldn't say her name.

There was one student left, Rebecca-Bishop Clairmont.

"Rebecca, is your mummy late?" Diana usually picked up Rebecca on time. Phoebe checked her phone, just in case she had missed any calls. No.

"My brother's in hospital, Miss Bee," Becca explained and Phoebe nodded and the two sat on the studio floor, playing games.

"I'm late, shit, I'm late!" Marcus said running in about half an hour later. Phoebe looked at him questioningly but was relieved when Rebecca smiled. Not a kidnapper.

"Bad word!" Rebecca admonished her big brother.

"Sorry Becca," He lifted her and swung her around before resting her on his hip.

"Hello," Phoebe smiled, "You are...?"

"Marcus, I'm this one's big brother." He explained, "My stepmother meant to call, saying she would be late and I'd be picking her up. But she was teaching, and I have my phone off,"

"Yes, Rebecca said you were in the hospital." But he looked perfectly healthy. Really good looking.

He chuckled at his sister's wording, "No, I work in the hospital. Paging is the best way to reach me, unfortunately."

"Well, that's a shame," Phoebe replied. Marcus smirked.

"Is it?" Marcus said, "The hospital part or the pager part?"

Phoebe closed her eyes and cringed as Marcus chuckled, "I meant the reach you part, because I only have Diana and Matthew's numbers. Not that I'm asking for your number for inappropriate reasons and it's really good that you aren't sick." She rambled, "And I will stop speaking."

But Marcus was smiling, she was sweet, "Please don't." He fished in his front pocket and pulled out a small card and handed it to her.

"Call me any time," He winked before leaving, as Rebecca waved bye.

....

Marcus picked up Rebecca more often after that. Sometimes, he and Phoebe would talk afterwards. All the mum's definitely found his presence a source of entertainment, but his eyes were on the teacher.

"Ask!" Rebecca tugged at his hand impatiently after one class. Phoebe was putting on her trainers and releasing her hair from the bun, letting down her curls when Marcus and Becca approached her.

"Becca and I were wondering if you would like to get an early dinner with us. I've also got her brother with me?" He offered.

"Okay," Phoebe smiled and grabbed her coat. She knew Rebecca was a twin and was happy to meet her brother.

Philip - or Pip - as he preferred to be called was sat in the back of Marcus' landrover, amusing himself with his golden retriever puppy.

"Apollo, down boy, in we go," The golden retriever who lay between the twins as they began chatting to each other.

"Pip, this is Bee," Rebecca said, "She's a good dancer." He shyly waved and Phoebe gave him a reassuring smile and wave.

They arrived at a nearby gastropub, going to eat outside, where the twins ran around in the large garden.

"He's such a good puppy," Phoebe stroked Apollo who was sitting at their table, "Is he yours?"

"Service dog. Pip's on the spectrum, so Apollo keeps him calm," Marcus explained. Phoebe nodded in understanding.

"You're a good brother." Phoebe smiled, "I'm the youngest in my family, but I kind of wish my parents had more."

"Well, technically, I'm an only child." Marcus said, "Diana is my stepmother. Not that I don't love her any less. My mother died when I was younger and I was raised by my grandparents in France mainly."

"I'm so sorry," Phoebe said sincerely.

"That was depressing," Marcus waved off, smiling again, "I'm not usually that depressing off the bat.

"No, it's fine, it's life," Phoebe assured him, "I'm also a half-sibling, but at least you get along with yours.

They talked for a bit more, occasionally eating.

"Marcus?" Rebecca and Pip had bounced over to their table.

"Yes, Becca?" Marcus said, handing the two their juice boxes.

"When are you and Bee Bee dating?" Becca asked. Both adults looked at her funnily.

"You said she was pretty," Pip piped up, before sipping his orange juice.

"Uh, I-" Marcus stuttered with a nervous laugh.

"And Bee asked if you have any friends that were special," Becca added.

"Well, I.." Phoebe stuttered and the twins were off again to play.

"I didn't-"

"I never-" They both laughed.

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" Phoebe teased.

"No, I think you're beautiful. Which is how I know those two are fibbing," Marcus replied smoothly and Phoebe's eyes widened.

"Well, I would, if I were interested as if you had any special friends." Phoebe flirted back.

"No," Marcus smirked and leaned in closer, "I don't." She simply smiled in return.

[eddies-puppet]

Lost In The Fire | Spencer Reid

Chapter 23: The Wake

Warnings: Angst, Grieving Spencer :(

Word count: 1,474

Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

———————————————————————

"Thank you for coming," Spencer said, shaking the hand of his mother's doctor as she made her way towards the door.

Today was the day of Diana's funeral, and Rossi had been kind enough to offer the use of his house for the wake.

The funeral home had been full to the rafters, with people even lining the halls to honour Diana's memory.

Becca had spent a few hours now talking to former friends of Diana from before her schizophrenic break, and she felt more sorry now than ever that she hadn't known her better. She'd heard countless stories of what an amazing professor she had been, and how proud she had been of Spencer, regularly regaling everyone she knew with stories of his adventures with the FBI.

Spencer had been withdrawn all day, unsurprisingly struggling to handle his emotions.

A few days before, he'd reached out to his father and asked him to be at Diana's funeral. Again unsurprisingly, he hadn't shown up. Spencer was trying hard to make her believe it wasn't bothering him, but the emptiness in his eyes gave him away.

"I'm going to get a drink," Spencer said softly. "Do you need anything?" She shook her head, smiling sadly as he turned and walked towards the kitchen. She sighed deeply, her shoulders dropping tiredly.

"I felt that sigh from the other side of the room," she heard a voice say close to her, turning to see Dave approaching. "You ok?" She shrugged.

"I just don't know what to say to make this better," she told him softly.

"There's nothing you can say," he assured her. "You've just got to be there when he's ready."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm just worried what will happen when it comes time for me to go home. Dave, until today, he hasn't left the apartment in a week. Clearing out Diana's room," she hesitated. "It's broken him," her voice caught in her throat as she struggled to hold back her tears. Dave reached out, gently rubbing her arm.

"He'll come through this Becca," he assured her. "Just believe me when I say that you being here is making a difference. How much longer are you here for?" She chuckled irritatedly.

"My boss has made it very clear he wanted me back last week. Patience and understanding aren't exactly his strong points."

"And nothing has changed to convince you to stay?" She looked up at him, exhaling sadly.

"Believe me, I want to stay, but the situation hasn't changed. I have to get back to work."

"Becca, there'll always be work. What's rare is finding someone who makes us happy."

"You think I don't realise that?" She snapped. "Dave, it's just not that simple." He held his hands up in defence.

"I overstepped, I'm sorry," he apologised. "Look, maybe this is the wrong day to talk about this. And I'm probably the wrong person." She shook her head, closing her eyes for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped," she said quietly. "You know I always appreciate your support, right?" She smiled sadly as he nodded. "I better go see where he's got to. Thanks Dave," she said, gently kissing his cheek before making her way out of the room.

She finally found Spencer sitting alone by the fountain in the garden. "Hey," she whispered as she sat down beside him, linking her arm through his. "You'll catch your death sitting out here in the cold."

"You know, technically you can't actually 'catch' anything from the weather," he rambled, pausing as she laughed.

"Spence, it's just an expression," she smiled. "You doing ok?"

"I guess," he nodded. "I just needed to clear my head. Today has been a lot," he mumbled.

"I know," she whispered, gently stroking his arm.

"How long are we expected to stay?" He asked quietly, looking at her, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"You're not 'expected' to do anything," she assured him, a tear falling onto his cheek. "You wanna get out of here?" He nodded silently as she gently wiped the tear from his face with her thumb, pushing his hair back from his face before standing up and holding her hand out to him. "Let's go."

————————————————————

Becca stirred from a deep sleep, keeping her eyes closed against the sunlight beaming through the large windows. She rolled over in bed, turning her back to the windows and reaching out for Spencer, only to find an empty space where his warm body should be.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she reached out to the bedside table behind her, grabbing her cellphone.

As expected, she opened a string of text messages from the team, checking on Spencer after their disappearing act from Diana's wake. Rather than sending them all separate text messages, she flicked to WhatsApp and sent a group message: 'Hey guys. Sorry for disappearing on you yesterday, and thanks for checking in. It was just a lot for Spence, but he's doing ok. I'll ask him to give you all a call later. xx'.

She yawned, stretching her arms above her head as she sat up, climbing out of bed and heading towards the lounge.

Spencer was stood silently in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he sipped at his coffee. He looked up, his eyes softening as they met hers.

"Hey," she whispered as she walked towards him. "Couldn't sleep?" She asked him as she slid her arms around his waist, leaning into him as she gently kissed his lips. He shook his head.

"You ok?"

"I will be," he said softly. Smiling sadly, she nodded.

"You will," she assured him. "What do you want to do today?"

"I don't mind," he shrugged. "Maybe we could watch a movie?"

"Sounds good, but you need to get out of this apartment first. Get some fresh air," she told him. "Go get dressed."

—————————————————————

Becca braced herself against the icy wind blowing through the park, wrapping her free hand tightly around Spencer's bicep, relishing the warmth of his body against hers.

A thin layer of snow covered the ground, freshly fallen and only disturbed by the paw prints of a small dog, which she could see running ahead of them with its owner.

Spencer squeezed the hand which lay snuggly in his own, his thumb ghosting across the back of her hand as she smiled up at him, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight bouncing off the snow.

"Are you warm enough?" She nodded. "Thank you for getting me out of the apartment."

"You're welcome," she said softly. "Can we sit for a minute? There's something I wanted to talk to you about." She asked, gesturing to a bench nearby, thankfully sheltered by trees and clear of snow. They sat down, their thighs touching and their hands still entangled against the cold. Spencer looked at her expectantly.

"So I had an email from work before we left," she sighed. "You remember I mentioned Dr Callaghan?" Spencer nodded. "He's decided to leave, and he's decided not to work his notice. So I've got to be back at work next week. I'm going to have to fly home over the weekend," she told him sadly as he sighed deeply, nodding his head.

"But it does kind of open up an opportunity. The principal asked if I knew of anyone who might be qualified to take over Dr Callaghan's classes, and he thinks you sound perfect for the role." Spencer's shoulders dropped as he absorbed her words, figuring out her plans. He slowly shook his head.

"I... I can't just up and leave," he said simply.

"Spence, Emily would understand. She just wants you to be happy," Becca insisted.

"I know she would, that's not what this is about," Spencer said exasperatedly. She hesitated, holding his gaze as she nodded slowly, biting at the inside of her cheek. "Don't look at me like that," he snapped. She chuckled, her voice laced with frustration. "You can't just make these decisions for me Bex, this is my life!"

"Which you said you wanted to spend with me," she said quietly.

"I do," he insisted. "But I can't just leave everything I have here!"

"You said you couldn't leave your mom, and I understand that, really I do, but Spence..."

"What, she's gone?" He interrupted her. "You think because she's gone, I can just leave the rest of my life behind?"

"Spence," she said quietly, holding her hands up in defence. "That's not..."

"She's been gone two weeks and you think I'm ready to just walk away from everything I've built for myself? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that's not going to happen," he shouted as he dropped her hand, stood up and walked away, leaving her sitting alone, watching him stride away from her, wondering what the hell just happened.

[sylvie-writes]

here’s what i’m thinking. it’s the 1940’s. y/n is on her first date w the lovely steve rogers. it’s lots of shy giggly fluff. syd, my fabulous companion, can you write something along the lines of this and i’ll swim across the atlantic to shower you and mags in kisses. love u xx

First Date Jitters

“Becs, what if he doesn’t like me. What if I annoy him?”

Bothered, you laid your arms on the vanity and groaned, annoyed by the mere thought of ruining this first date. Steve Rogers seemed like a dreamboat and the minute he asked you out on a date, your eyes formed hearts and you were floating on cloud nine. 

“Honey, he asked you out on a date, didn’t he?

“Yeah, but y’all pushed him! Maybe he felt pity for me and-”

Tired of your rambling, Rebecca ran the brush through your hair a bit too harsh for your liking.

“Geez! What was that for, Barnes?”

She smirked and went back to brushing your hair, returning to gentle strokes from before. 

“To shut ya mouth full of lies.” Her strong New York accent came through and you giggled. When Rebecca spoke with a said accent, she meant business and was going to get her point through regardless if you listened or not.

Eventually, you zipped your mouth, letting Becca work her magic with your hair and makeup. As she did so, your mind drifted off to the first time you had met Steve.

“Pleaseeeeee, Bucky’s bringing a friend for dinner. Don’t leave me in a room full of testosterone.”

Becca was down on her knees, clasping the hem of your dress. Currently, you were standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, people passing and shooting funny glares. Embarrassed, you pulled at her arms, but to no avail, she wouldn't budge from her spot on the cement.

“Rebecca Barnes, get off the ground! You look like a fool!” 

“Not till you say, yes. You know how many dinners you’ve turned down?”

Groaning, you agreed to go just this once. The last time you went to dinner, you made a complete fool of yourself, even though Rebecca said otherwise. Bucky’s naturally flirtatious nature and secretive winks made you read into the situation a bit too much. From then on you vowed to never show up at a dinner of theirs. You’d known Rebecca for almost five years, yet you still couldn’t forgive yourself for that first night. 

“You know why I always refuse, Becca.”

She linked her arm in yours, now off the ground and ready to walk around town some more.

“I know, but Bucky does that to every friend I’ve brought home. Don’t worry, the other girls did way worse than you. In the end, Bucky just likes to hook, line, and sink em kind of thing.”

Rebecca laughed, punctuating her sentence, and at her words of assurance, you felt a bit relieved. 

That night you knocked on the door, and within seconds it flew open. Rebecca, flour covered hands, held out her arms for an awkward hug. 

“You didn’t chicken out this time!”

You gave her a set of squinted eyes and she lightly giggled, waltzing back to the kitchen. Just as you were about to follow, a certain someone stopped you. Blocking the doorway, a young man you had been trying to avoid stood before your much smaller figure.

“Hey! You showed up this time, angel! Sorry I know I kind of scared you off last time. I’m sure Becs has given you her opinion on me.”

Bucky scratched at the back of his neck, shyly looking into your eyes.

“No hard feelings, Buck.”

You gave the man a tight lipped smile and started to maneuver past him, when his arms reached out for your waist.

“Becca told you I brought a friend, right?”

Confused, you cautiously nodded.

“Well, I want you to meet him. Hey Punk! Get out here!”

Suddenly, a man, no smaller than yourself rounded the corner and smiled bashfully at you.

“Hi ma’am, name’s Steve Rogers.”

The man, Steve, held out a hand for you to shake, which you did. All of a sudden, you two started talking and before you knew it, Bucky had left to go tell Rebecca their plan had worked. As implied, dinner ended with Steve asking you out. 

“Hellooooo, any one home in there?”

Rebecca playfully tapped your head, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Thinking ‘bout Rogers, aren't ya?”

With a timid smile, you nodded, soon standing from the vanity seat and going to change. Your friend had done an amazing job on pinning up your hair and fixing your makeup. You almost felt like a million bucks. To compliment it all, your mother had even found you a little baby pink number. Quickly changing, you stepped out of the closet, twirling in the sea on the pink fabric. Rebecca gasped at the sight and immediately reached for the camera, taking a picture of you, mid laughter. 

Checking your wrist watch, you suddenly heard the doorbell and practically ran for the door with Rebecca who was laughing so hard that she couldn’t keep up.

Swinging open the door a bit too excitedly, you found Steve’s grin dissipating. A bit disappointed with his reaction, you toned down the excitement, hoping he wouldn’t notice your sudden change in demeanor.

“Wow, doll. You look,” The young man swallowed the lump in his throat, “stunning. Absolutely gorgeous!”

At the words, your disappointment morphed into satisfaction, and you stepped out the door, hitching onto Steve’s arm, waving goodbye to your best friend. 

“Don’t keep her out too late, Steven!”

Rebecca’s words followed you both down the hallway, causing some laughter from Steve, who seemed a bit uncomfortable. Worried once more, you decided to pry a bit.

“Is everything ok, Steve?”

He turned to you with wide eyes and shook his head to dispute your many apologies.

“I’m just a bit nervous, it’s not you! It's just that no girl as pretty as you has never gone out with me before.”

Steve’s cheeks turned rosy red, before he looked the other direction, not wanting you to see him like this. In his mind, one wrong move and you’d leave him for another.

Humbled at his comment, you took your free hand and turned his face in your direction. With a big smile, you planted a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, leaving the young man almost breathless.

“Don’t worry about me, Stevie. I’m not going anywhere, except where you take me.” 

Confident by your actions, Steve stood a bit taller and led you out of the apartment building, excited for his first date with you. 

You were tucked into Steve’s side, enjoying a small conversation with him. The two of you were quite the pair, nervously asking the other one a question, trying to get to know each other since this was your first date. They say opposites attract, but that was not the case with you and Steve. So far, he had told you of the endless days he’d spent in the hospital, and a part of you longed for him to be healthy, as that sounded like his one wish. Steve would go on and on about how Bucky had set him up on dates and it normally ended with Bucky having two girls around his arms instead of one. You could see Steve’s self-confidence faltering, so you decided to share your many failed-date stories, eliciting a laugh from the man at the few comedic ones. 

The whole walk, you were so caught up in talking to the man, that the two of you almost passed the first place you were going to stop. Of course, you were clueless as to where Steve was taking you, so you would have kept walking if Steve hadn’t stopped and gently placed his hands over your eyes. You felt the man turn you around and walk you a few steps when finally he removed the makeshift blindfold that was his hands.

“We’re here! Rebecca told me how much you loved chocolate, so I figured you could pick a box of your choice.”

He smiled lovingly at you, as you squealed like a child on Christmas morning. Thrilled, you ran into the store, seeing a case of a variety of chocolates. Steve caught up and enjoyed your cute facial expressions as you scanned over the options. There was an endless amount of chocolate, all in different forms and unthinkable flavors. About to order, you pulled out your clutch when Steve halted your actions.

“Now you think I’m gonna let my girl pay for her own box of chocolates?”

“But Steve-”

Your date stood strong in his statement, and demanded that you pick whatever chocolate you wanted. After scowling at him for a bit, you finally caved and picked from the overwhelming selection behind the glass case. You and Steve shared a few samples, laughing at how you both were acting like wine samplers. Since your date was buying the box, you told him that you’d only allow him to do so, if he selected a few chocolates himself. Begrudgingly, Steve agreed and you both might’ve held up the line a bit with your indecisiveness.

Walking out, you were once again wrapped into Steve’s side, this time his jacket on your shoulders as the sun had gone down and the night chills had creeped out. So far, you could feel Steve becoming more and more comfortable as the two of you started to talk about whatever came to mind. Just as you thought the man was done with the surprises, he stopped in front of the movie theater.

“Steve-”

“Nope, this is our first date, and we are going to make it memorable!”

You chuckled at his persistence and decided to play along.

“Well what about this lovely chocolate, we can’t just toss it out yet?”

Steve took the box and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket that was still hanging on your shoulders.

“Oooh is Steve Rogers breaking the rules?”

A cheeky grin formed on his lips, “Only because I really like you.”

The minute the words left his mouth, Steve’s ears started to turn cherry and you shyly giggled.

“Well, I really like you too, Steve Rogers.” With that, you kissed him, but this time on the lips. As you did so, you could feel his cheeks warming and a big smile twisted onto your lips, breaking the kiss.

“Oh Steve Rogers, what am I going to do with you?”

[buckbarnesjames]

Chapter Five

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Angst. 

Word Count: 1377

A/N: Hey guys, I’m rewriting this series with new ideas (I will eventually start the next chapters too) so I’ve split this chapter up and included some new things. Taglist is OPEN. Feedback appreciated!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“It’s nice to meet you too, Winnie,” you say, a bright smile on your face. You squeeze Bucky’s hand softly, letting him know that you’ve got this. Looking over to the lounge you see Bucky’s father and sister standing around a little awkwardly. You approach them, a smile still on your face. “Hi, I’m Y/N” you say to Bucky’s father, extending your hand out for him to shake. “George” he says, a hint of a smile on his face as she shakes your hand. You turn to the young girl next to him. “I’m Rebecca, but you can call me Becca” you reach out to shake her hand, and she takes it, then pulls you into a hug. “I can’t believe Bucky has a girlfriend!” she gushes, and your eyes widen slightly. You and Bucky hadn’t exactly decided that’s what you were. You both loved each other, that much was true, but neither of you had suggested labelling anything. You just chuckle at Rebecca, and she places her hands on your shoulders studying you, “She’s gorgeous too, Buck!” She shouts over to him, teasingly. Bucky rolls his eyes at her and you feel a little awkward at the compliment but smile softly in Rebecca’s direction.

Bucky and his mother walk towards the gathering in the lounge. “We were just on our way to our usual Sunday lunch, so we stopped by to invite Bucky” Winne says, smiling as she watches Bucky walk towards you and wrap an arm around your waist as you smile up at him and whisper a little ‘hi’. “Would you like to join us?” Rebecca asks you, she’s practically bouncing on the spot with excitement at meeting you. You look up at Bucky waiting for him to answer. You would gladly have gone to lunch with Bucky’s family but you weren’t sure if he already had plans for the two of you. “Lunch sounds great” Bucky finally answers, unwrapping his arm from your waist only to reach for your hand.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with Bucky’s family, getting a little glimpse into Bucky’s childhood when Winnie gushes about him and Rebecca teases him. George seems a little more reserved than the others, but he occasionally joins in with the conversation. “It was lovely to meet you all” You say, hugging Winnie and Rebecca goodbye. You shake George’s hand and this time, you’re greeted with a full-blown smile. You’re texting Johnathan to bring the car around when you hear George whispering to Bucky, “I really like this one.” You turn to watch their exchange, George hugs Bucky and Bucky grins at him. “Thanks Dad, I like this one too,” he says, noticing you watching them. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him, hearing George chuckle at the exchange.

You’re lying in bed later that night staring up at the ceiling. Bucky is besides you, his head resting on your shoulder and an arm wrapped around your waist. You think he’s sleeping until you feel him press his lips to your shoulder. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice laced with concern. “I’m just thinking” you say, reaching a hand to thread your fingers through his hair. Bucky sighs at the contact. “About?” he says as he peppers your shoulder with comforting kisses. “Something Becca said” you admit, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to. “When she called you my girlfriend?” he asks and you hum a reply, lost in thought and staring up at the ceiling again. Bucky moves then so that he’s hovering over you. “Well...I’d say you were,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead. You sigh, closing your eyes at the contact. Bucky lies back down again, pulling you into his chest and tucking your head under his chin. “Now, if that’s all you were worried about...go to sleep. We have work tomorrow” he says, feigning grumpiness. You giggle, snuggling into him and closing your eyes. You drift off soon after, a smile gracing your lips.

The next morning, you and Bucky arrive to work together. The secret is officially out after the gala fiasco. It’s a little weird when everybody stares at you but you do your best to ignore it. Bucky’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you’re laughing at something he says when you walk into your shared office. “Dolores!” he calls out in surprise. A pretty woman with clearly dyed blonde hair, who holds herself as if she’s the most important person in the room, is standing at his desk. “What are you doing here?” Bucky asks, his arm dropping from your shoulder. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. You knew who this was. You’d heard the rumours about Bucky’s ex-fiance Dolores, or Dot as most people called her. “Y/N, could you give us a moment?” Bucky turns to you, a pleading look on his face. You nod your head and walk out, immediately setting off to find Nat and Wanda.

“I would have called but this is really important, Buck.” Dot says to Bucky, a grave look on her face. “James” he corrects her. “What is it Dolores?” he asks, his tone agitated. The unexpected arrival had soured his mood completely. “It’s Brock. He and his father made an offer to my father. He told them he wants to think about it, but you should know that out of loyalty to your father and given our families history - he won’t go for it.” Dot says and Bucky internally rolls his eyes. “Is that really all you came to tell me?” he says as he moves to look through the files on his desk, completely uninterested. “Brock is unhinged, James. He always has been, but he’s gotten worse these last few years. He wants what he wants, and he’ll step over anyone and do anything to get what he wants” Dot confesses. At this, Bucky drops the files on to his desk and looks up at her. “And what does he want, exactly?” Bucky’s tone is demanding, he doesn’t have time for Dot to drag this out. “ Your company and…” Dot looks towards the door and takes a deep breath in, “And her,” her tone is hushed, worried that you’re outside the door. Bucky’s stomach twists at the idea of anything happening to you. “Thank you for informing me. I’ll be in touch with you and your father, so we can try to work together to rectify this situation and get something on Brock” Bucky says, showing Dot to the door. He needed to find you, right now.

He’s pacing the office, calling your phone for the hundredth time, when you appear in the doorway. “Oh thank god” he gasps out, rushing towards you. Bucky places a hand on your face, stroking your cheek before pulling you into a kiss - his lips crushing against yours. “Bucky, is everything okay?” you ask, his anxiety is palpable. You’d never seen him this worried. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dolores was here about Brock” your jaw clenches at the name and you feel sick. “I need to hire some security until we can control the situation. Steve and I have an old college friend called Sam, he’s a veteran and now works in private security. I’m going to get in contact with him, and ask for some of his best agents to protect you” Bucky rambles on as you try to process the news. “Protect me?” Bucky, what an earth is going on?!” Bucky can hear the pleading in your voice, and he swallows. He’s trying to think how best to approach the subject without scaring you, but truthfully he was scared too. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “Brock wants the company...and you. Dolores was warning me. He’s dangerous, Y/N. I didn’t realise just how dangerous he was when I argued with him at the gala. I’m so sorry I’ve put you in danger.” You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. “It’s not your fault, Bucky, It’s okay. We’ll figure things out. Nothing’s going to happen to me.” You say attempting to comfort him.

If only you knew how wrong you were.

[winteriron-trash]

About Me/FAQ

Hey, welcome to my blog! This is my -well, usually- Marvel-centric blog that has everything WinterIron, Bucky Barnes, and Tony Stark, as well as some general shitposts of my own wild adventures. I figured it’s best to keep up this trend of updating my ‘About Me’ page every follower milestone. So thank you all so much for over 3,000 followers, I never expected to break that many followers, let alone in less than a year on Tumblr. I appreciate each and everyone one of you, so really, thank you for sticking around with my bullshit.

Per the usual, I don’t do drama, I don’t do discourse. If you have a serious problem with me or anything I’ve written/done on this blog, please take it up with me personally. I will delete anon hate (if I get any, I haven’t gotten any yet…) and I think it’s all just pointless. I can be salty and derpy sometimes, but I will never purposely say something malicious. I’m not here for that negativity.

Now, to the FAQs.

Do you have an Ao3/Pillowfort/other social media?

I do have an Ao3, you can find me at Gothic_Lolita. I don’t cross-post everything, and a lot of my stuff on Ao3 isn’t WinterIron or even Bucky or Tony-centric, so if you’d like to see some other stuff I write, feel free to check over there. I don’t have a Pillowfort, nor do I plan on getting one. It took me forever to get this platform right, I’m not in the place to bother learning how to navigate a new one. I don’t do Snapchat or Instagram or Twitter because I am not nearly basic or cool enough for that stuff. The only social media I use is Tumblr and Pinterest, and trust me, my Pinterest is nothing interesting enough to be worth linking.

Do you have a tagging system?

I’m… trying, honestly. I’m trying to adjust my tags and systems because of the… wildness Tumblr is having with blocking and purging certain tags. I try to be funny in my tags, and I swear a lot, and apparently ‘fuck’ is being filtered out of the tag search, so that’s fun and completely screwed me over. As it stands, the important tags are ‘winteriron-trash writes’ (my writing tag), ‘shitposting with becca’ (any wild shitposts of my own sad creation), ‘not about marvel’ (any posts that are my general bullshittery and not Marvel related), ‘becca gives mediocre writing advice’ (a new tag I’m trying to use that’ll tag any post that I give writing advice on), ‘becca spills the tea’ (a tag for whenever I post my metas or opinions on Marvel characters, plots, etc), and the citrus scale which I explain in a post here

Do you write original fiction?

Yes, but I rarely, if ever, post it. I think I have all of one poem on Tumblr, any absolutely nothing original on Ao3. I write original works all the time, especially poetry and novels, but I’m super shy about being vulnerable and putting my stuff out there. I do wanna post my original writing somehow, but considering a fandom blog and Ao3 aren’t really the place for it, I’ll just keep it all hidden inside of me, and one day I’ll die. You’re more than welcome to ask me about any of my original writings, trust me, I am always willing to ramble about the shit I write, it’s pathetic.

What type of fanfiction do you write?

For this blog, mostly WinterIron fics or gen fics focused on Bucky or Tony. I do write about OT3s on here occasionally, but they usually include WinterIron in some way. Most of the time. I’ve somehow gotten to writing some weird stuff lately, to be honest. I’ll work with MCU, Sony Venom, and Spiderverse characters and canon, with the occasionally comic canon shoved in there. I have occasionally written crossover content with DC characters, but that usually relies on comic versions -or at least my own remixes of them- rather than the DCEU. On my masterlist, you can check out all the things I’ve written!

What are your ships besides WinterIron? NOTPs?

I’ll ship almost anything, and I’m a huge fan of rarepairs/interesting relationships simply to explore the possibilities of it, particularly when they include Bucky or Tony. My top OTPs besides WinterIron are currently Phlint, FalconShield, and BlackPepper. As for NOTPs, I strongly dislike Stucky, Stuckony, Thorki, and Staron for reasons of just not being able to see those characters together romantically. Feel free to send me the wildest rarepair your mind can think of, chances are I’ve probably already thought of it myself so I’d love the chance to ramble about/write for it. I’m a big fan of weird OT3s as well, just see the weird shit on my masterlist.

Are you in any fandoms besides Marvel?

I’m into DC, Star Trek, classic literature, Percy Jackson/HoO/Kane Chronicles, She-Ra, Carmen Sandiego, indie gaming, Supernatural, vulture culture, HYDRA Trash Party, and musicals. Yes, I’m aware I was born to be a geek. Trust me, I’ve grown very used to it.

Do you take prompts?

Honestly, sending me a prompt/headcanon/idea is a shot in the dark. I have prompts sitting in my inbox that has been there for about a year that I’ve been meaning to write. Chances are if you send me a prompt yes I’ve seen it, yes I think it’s lovely, but god I do not have the time. Occasionally a prompt will really grab my eye and I’ll just have to write something for it, but sometimes even that can take months to finish. Don’t be surprised if you send me a prompt and I randomly fill it seven months later. I’m prone to doing so. I love being tagged in existing prompt/headcanon posts and asked to write it (as I have a bad habit of hijacking posts to write stuff for them to begin with…) just know that once again the chances of me writing it are about a 50/50. Also, make sure the OP is okay with you asking me to write it, it’s never my intention to steal someone else’s spotlight, I just want to take cool ideas and throw my two cents in.

Is there anything you won’t write?

Drugs and alcohol are hard nos for me. They’re personal triggers that if you really want to know more about, you can send me an ask or message about. If I’ve listed something as a NOTP, I will not write anything with it. I strongly dislike writing kid fics, mundane AUs, damsel in distress Tony fics, and A/B/O, but I’m willing to work with an idea if it’s good enough. It really depends on the situation.

Do you offer writing advice/reviews?

Yep! I’m down to answer any questions on writing fanfic or just writing in general. I love talking about writing and all that. Seriously, I like talking about writing almost as much as I like talking about Marvel. I’m more than open to reading a few chapters of your fic or book or whatever and telling you my honest thoughts, but I probably won’t have time to read all of it if it’s more than 5k long, because I’m just a busy person. And I will be honest because I want to be helpful. Don’t ask me for my honest opinion if you just want your ego stroked.

Can I ask your opinion on [insert topic here]?

Always. I am always open to sharing my honest opinions, regardless of backlash I’ll receive for it. I’d rather be my honest self online -the one place I can be my honest self- then a fake mask made to please others. Whether it be fandom ships, in-universe meta, or non-fandom related topics, feel free to ask me. I love talking meta, or just general thoughts and opinions on random stuff. Trust me, I’m far too opinionated for my own good. Ask literally anyone who’s met me.

How long have you been writing?

All seventeen years of my sad, sad life. I loved writing stupid little stories when I was a kid, that slowly morphed into shitty “books”, then I went through a poetry phase in junior high, and when I was about 14 I wrote my first fanfiction. I posted my first fanfic when I was 15, and have been posting fanfiction for over a year and a half now. I started Tumblr in late February but didn’t start writing fics here until about March because I am a shy bitch.

Aaaaaaand now for some stupid shit about me you didn’t ask for.

My name is Becca, or Winter, or Dumbass, whatever you prefer, and I’m a dumbfuck 17 yr old lesbian from upstate New York. (The ‘upstate’ part is important. Don’t ask me if I live in NYC. Just don’t.) I’m a junior in high school and planning to study English and Marketing in college, to hopefully become an editor. Hopefully. I’m actually a pretty boring and dumb bitch, which makes it all the more concerning that I am steadily gaining popularity on this hellsite. Someone help me.

I mentioned some of my interests above, but some other stuff I’m into includes knitting, playing piano, tea, collecting (hoarding) notebooks, photography, editing, music, and being a general idiot. I’m a wild child in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, which should not fool you because I’m far too shy and afraid of everything to be cool like that. I sound a lot cooler online because I’ve gotten so used to online interactions from making friends and running my own Discord server, but in real life I am unrecognizable. I’ve been in a grade of 60 people with the same people since kindergarten and some of them still don’t know my name.

I’m mentally ill and all that, but we’re working on getting… better. Writing schedules are a mess from me and sometimes I’m falling apart so, that’s fun. It doesn’t usually affect my blog because I internalize that shit, but occasionally the self-deprecating humor can get to be a little too close to the truth. And just the general spastic nature of my blog reflects the utter chaos of my mind.

So anyway, that’s me, please be my friend. Also, because this seems to come up more and more. Please don’t be afraid of me/intimidated by me. I know I look all cool and popular, but I am literally a hot mess just like the rest of us. If you want to climb your way into my messages and just,,,, scream at me about something you think I’d like, or just scream in general, go ahead. I really won’t mind, I promise. I need… friends, or so my therapist tells me.

Oh, and here’s a face reveal.

Yes, I am that absolute idiot of a person, lying splat in the middle of my elementary playground field for,,,, reasons???? I don’t really remember the story behind that picture tbh, but it’s my entire personality in a single picture, so I dig it.

And here’s my actual face, with a cheap ring in my mouth and a fox filter because I thought I looked cute, okay? Leave me be.

Tadah.

I swear I’m funny and talented sometimes, please like me.

As always, feel free to send me an ask or a message about anything you’d like. 

Check out my Masterlist if you want, and join my Discord Server.

[homelanderdsm]

#CocksuckersClones

Co written and posting order @ButcherDSM @HomelanderDSM @BeccaButcherDSM and @SoldierBoy_21

Butcher -Becca freed of that fuck twat let him sleep sounder at night but the realization that his fight with the sups would never truly be over had him looking over intel the kid had managed to scrape up from his sup girlfriend he refused to say her name because it made him feel like he was betraying himself but then again... Frenchie dame was sup too. Anyway, it didn't matter there was a job to do. -Glaring at the laptop screen stroking his bearded chin trying to decide how they could get more information. He also worried because that crazed cunt Stormfront hadn't been /dead/ and he wanted that one ended for sure. She'd be coming for blood when she recovered. Mother's Milk came in telling him he should go to bed. Butcher flipped him off and ignored him as he sent an encrypted email to the kid. "We'll look round see what we can dig up. Remember kid, shoot first let God sort em out." After he sent the email he closed the laptop and went back to bed smiling, /she/ was alive and with him. Small mercies.-

Homelander - [ Homeland flew back home to the tower from meeting his fans after doing a promotion tour with the rest of the seven. When the crowd was randy with the appearing of all the seven in one place. Homeland being himself wanting to perform for his dying fans. When he let loose the lasers from eyes to light out the posted ahead off him with an innocent human climbing the notice board to get a better look of him. When his laser from his eyes hit the human in question. When he realised what he did. He grinded his teeth hoping no one caught his mistake when he tried to cover his tracks up. By flying into the sky in the opposite direction to keep their eyes away from the notice board. This was typical home lander wanting to be the centre of attention. Before he arrived

at the tower trying to clear his head after what happened When he marched his way into the vice president office after being summons by them. Occasionally, Vought International tried to control him and his outbursts, but it mostly ended up in another dead person; a small price to pay for having the most powerful superhero alive on their side. There’s no one above him, no one to look up to for guidance, no one that can control him until he met her, Madelyn Stillwell, the new Senior Vice President of the hero management. She’s was different when she would set the rules for homeland making him clench his jaw. This was all new to him as Usually, Vought would just silently accept it, clean up the mess and act like it was just another accident at work, but today it would be different. With Madelyn when she was setting out her plans on how homeland was to be from now on. He ran his hands through his hair after she changes he had to make plus he had just he found out that Becca was gone. He wanted answers on how she managed to escape him without him knowing. She didn't mean anything to him she was there for a fuck when I wanted to Fuck. She was His prisoner and his whore. He wanted the answers on her escape. And he wasn't going to rest until he found out where she had gone too. ]

(Ghosted by Butcher) -Hughie poked around in Vought’s financial records, he hadn’t turned anything up much to his disappointment he was sure much more was going on but he wasn’t sure how to get his hands on it. He couldn’t take anymore chances with Starlight, Homelander would only take so much and he was afraid what the bastard would do to her. Getting a text from a “new contact” not sure who it was but they said they had some information that needed to be seen.

As he walked out of the office he was well aware it could be a trap but he’d have to take the chance. Until Homelander and Vought was really taken care of he couldn’t stop this he owed it to all the people who’d died. Getting to the part he sat down on the wooden bench as instructed. Getting a text “Information is taped under your seat. I hope you guys bring Homelander down.” Hughie held his phone and looked around nervously wondering who this was but obviously if they wanted him dead he would be. Reaching under he peeled the manila envelope from the bench and put it in his backpack heading back to his apartment to have a look at the packet.-

Becca:  *It had been a long, long time since anyone knew she was alive, at least anyone that knew her /real/ identity. She truly thought she was doing what’s right, protecting not only her son and herself from the wolf in sheep’s clothing known as Homelandar, but Billy as well. But  when they’d found each other again, it was as if no time had passed at all. She was grateful to be reunited with Billy and had escaped with Ryan, but the fear that /he/ would find them eventually often kept her up at night. And the times she did sleep, she was plagued by  nightmares of those red, glowing eyes annihilating the ones she loved. After all, Homelander had made it damn clear he’d never stop searching for her and Ryan. Some nights she laid in bed and wondered if it’d be better to just run again … It wasn’t fair to Billy. He’d  ~ already been through so much over her and the guilt silently ate away. She heard him step into the room and looked up from her phone where she was scrolling through articles about the supes, keeping an eye on the enemy so to speak. She managed a smile.* Hey you, everything ok?

Soldier boy - Soldier Boy being the well known sup that he is has decided to come in and show everyone he's not only the oldest Sup he's gonna be taking charge of things around Vought. He is a cocky son of a bitch but he knows everyone will bow down to him, or so he thinks

He walks into Vaught with his held high with a walk that shows to all that his shit don't stink. He calls out having his words echo throughout the large lobby

"Don't fear, your saviour Is here."

---------------------------

Soldier boy clench his jaw when he hears from the lobby a voice coming thought the building of Vaught. When he stood up from the couch we were sitting at taking to Madalyn Stillwell in her office about how to deal with the last accident as she calls it. “ What was that? He recalled “ standing up to go and look at the rambling coming from the lobby. The corridor we're filling with people cheering and clapping. Which didn't sit well with him. When he looked over the bannister when he saw him standing there bold as brass. When the real hero was always here and he was the true hero of this story Me. When his eyes started to glow red

Soldier boy - Appearance and welcome his 'True' leader back. Not that I'm surprised, he is nothing but a pussy who 'Thinks' everyone bows down before him."

Laughing he looks around again

"So who's going to be the one to show me around here? This place has changed a lot since I was here last.

Butcher - Everything is fine Becca, you've no need to worry love. -Walking over he sat down beside her and put his arm around her.- Can't sleep?

Homelander - Homelander wasn't in the mood for this jackass making an entrance. He might be the oldest sup, but I'm the real leader around here. This one will need to get in line and follow me. If he knows what good for him and my Team.

*Homelander wrapped his hands around the bannister and crushing it with his hands with the applauded he's receiving with his eyes glowing at Soldier boy.*

[alanakusumas]

Title: A Letter to Jake McKenzie (An Officer McKenzie fic, Slight JakexMC)

Follow along the audio post by reading Rebecca McKenzie’s letter here

Characters: Officer Rebecca McKenzie, Jake McKenzie, M/C Word Count: 2746 Summary: Rebecca thought he was out of her life for sure.  It’s been far too long.  Since he disappeared, she has mourned, stored away the memories, and moved on with her life.  That is, until a glimmer of hope resurfaced into her life, reviving her determination to search for Jake again. 

Author’s Note: The soundcloud audio and visual of the letter are just ADDITIONAL COMPONENTS!  You can still enjoy the fic without reading the letter or listening to Rebecca’s audio post.  The letter is in the story, just separated in chunks between Rebecca’s memories.  I just got really into this story so added a lil something extra. 

-------

“Okay, Becca, your turn!”  Your friends giggle excitedly between countless sips of wine. They all turn their heads to you, eyes glistening with anticipation with what’s to come.  “Truth, or dare?”

“Oh, you know me,” You raise your glass and shoot a wink at your friend who raised the question, “I always play it safe. Truth.”  A collective groan is heard amidst your circle of friends.  

“Fine,” She tuts, “If you had to pick just one, who is your best friend in the entire world?”  

Each one of them lean in, hoping their own name will slip out of your mouth, but in your drunken state you could not bring yourself to draft up some bullshit excuse solely to stroke their ego.  In truth, your best friend, who can never be replaced, is your cousin, your ‘brother’, your partner-in-crime, Jacob Lucas McKenzie.

“I-“ You begin, “It’s my cousin, Jacob.  Jake for short, and he calls me Reb,” You mutter the last part.  “We were born a year apart, him being a year younger than me.  We’re both only childs, so we consider each other siblings.”  A sudden wave of reminiscence sends shivers down your spine.  “I feel like it’s a mutual understanding between us, that despite whatever is going on with our lives, we’ll always be each others’ number ones.”  As those last few words slip through you, you begin to ponder whether that statement still stays true.  “He’s serving in the military right now.  It’s been eight months since I’ve last seen him,” You say, almost in a whisper, your heart twisted with nostalgia.  “I wonder if he’s okay.”  

You feel one of your friends rub circles on your back, reassuring you that it’ll eventually be okay, and you seize the opportunity to lean on her shoulder and shut your eyes tight, replaying and grasping onto any visual memories you have of your cousin, your best friend, Jake McKenzie. 

******

Your eyes flutter open, welcoming the dim moonlight, which glows through your window and lit up the ceiling you wake to.  

Ever since you shared that moment of truth with your girlfriends, nobody had heard anything from Jake.  It felt like you’d jinxed his fate.  

You remember exactly what had happened the day the news spread: the phone call, your aunt – Jake’s mom - interrogating you for answers when you certainly didn’t have any, you rushing to your room and searching every social media platform for clues as to where Jake is…It was a nightmare you couldn’t escape for weeks, months, and even to this day.  Everybody was certain that he was out of their lives for sure, and forever.  It seemed like that for quite a while.  

Until, just last week, an unexpected glimmer of hope appeared out of the blue. She persuaded you not to give up yet.

And you don’t intend to.

Exhilaration tingling your mind and soul, you swing yourself out of bed and walk over to your desk, switching your desk light on.  You grab your favourite black pen from your stationary holder and tear a piece of lined paper off your notepad.

Even though the chances your cousin might read this are slim, you’ve mustered up your anger and distress for way too long.  It was time to let those thoughts flow out of your mind and into the ink.  

My dearest Jake –

No, too sappy.  

Hey, scrub –

Would he appreciate that?  That the first words he reads from you after almost a decade is, “Hey, scrub?”

Jake –

You scratch that too.  This is not going well.  You snatch the paper from your table and crumple it up, ripping a fresh page from your notepad once again.  “It’s just another letter Reb, don’t overthink it,” You try to reassure yourself.

Hey, Jake,

It’s been eight years. 

I know you’re out there somewhere, that you haven’t abandoned us for the sake of abandoning us.  I always knew you had a reason, and I’m so glad I got to find out why before either of us disappeared off the face of this earth.  

I remember I was so heated when your mom called me, crying on the phone as she told me that you went AWOL.  I was blinded by my own selfishness, that it made me believe you betrayed us, that you betrayed ME.  

And I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry I ever doubted you.  I miss you so much.  I really, really, really miss you.  There doesn’t go a day where your whereabouts don’t cross my mind.  Family reunions have never been the same since you disappeared.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and you allow them to flow down your cheeks, as there is no need to hold anything back this late at night.  

Remember when we used to play hide-and-seek with our cousins, and when it was your turn to be “it”, you never searched for any of them except me, and we would just sit on the swings and wait for them to come out an hour later, all pissed at us?  Those were really good times; I wish we could go back.  I asked why you picked me, out of all of them, to be your sidekick, and you couldn’t think of an answer.  All you said was, “You get me.”  

And I still do.  I get you.  I know you. And I hope you still know me too.

The scribbling stops short.  Jake probably doesn’t want to hear you spilling your heart out over and over again. You blink away the remaining tears. What would he like to hear about?  

 …Anyway…I joined the LAPD!  I attended and graduated from the police academy as soon as I finished college.  You actually inspired me to join, Jake.  I thought we could, you know, continue our misfit character arcs and be the dynamic service duo cousins in the family.  But that’s not the case now, is it?  

Despite our circumstances, I still love how things turned out for me, career wise. I work with a team of brilliant-minded people, and when shit gets intense down in L.A., there’s no doubt they know how to handle it.  Sure I’ve gotten roughed up a few times here and there, but I haven’t died yet, so there’s that.  Fun fact: I met Cassandra Leigh and Hayley Rose while on duty one time (almost got shot, but no biggie)!  I don’t know where you are, but I hope you’ve heard of at least one of them, especially pop sensation Hayley Rose.  (P.S. In case you haven’t heard, she got decapitated. Yikes.) 

You inhale deeply, allowing that breath of air to hold you still and bring your thoughts to a halt.  All of this…rambling is only delaying you from saying what you actually need to get out. What seemed like a brief moment in your memories, was in truth a battle of emotions you never imagined you’d have to face again.  

It seemed like yesterday, your phone buzzed and lit up at 3AM from a message request on Facebook.  You couldn’t sleep anyway, so you decided to check who it was from.  The bright light blinded you, but you made out the name, “M/C”. Her message was typed out like a plea, a last attempt for help.  

“Hi Rebecca,

I’m M/C.  I apologize because this may seem very out of the blue, and it probably is.  Please don’t click away thinking this is a hoax; what I’m telling you is the truth.  And for reasons you can figure out by yourself, I can’t be too specific.

…I have reasons to believe your cousin was the pilot who flew me to my destination two years ago.  I know, this sounds bizarre, and before you ask me “Which cousin?” A) It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I can’t.  Not here. B) Deep down, you know which one. I’m not telling you this because I’m some random passenger who suddenly found an interest in the mysterious pilot who flew her to an island two years ago.  He was my friend, a close one at the very least, but he disappeared after I flew home (as you can figure out why).  I was wondering if we could meet sometime this month.  I’m sure you’d like some answers, and I want some proof that he’s not a figment of my imagination post-travels.  

However, if you’re at peace with your closure and don’t want to visit this subject again, I completely understand and apologize for interrupting your routine. I won’t contact you again.  

Thank you for your time.

- M/C”

 You bite down on your lip.  Jake didn’t usually post anything on Facebook.  However, the one time he made his presence known on social media, he made sure to drag you in it as well.

You’re the one who snapped his profile picture, the one he’s had up for over ten years.  It’s a candid of his seventeen year-old self; seated in front of you at your favourite local coffee shop back home.  He’s leaning forward, arms crossed in front of him as he glances out the window and onto the quiet morning streets of Shreveport.  The sun rays hit his face and grey sweater in two streaks, causing him to squint at the brightness that’s overshadowed him.  It was the perfect contrast from the mellow, dim lighting inside the café, so you seized the artistic opportunity and snapped the image of your cousin.  Little did you know, he would garner a liking to the photo as well, and ask to use it as his profile picture – not that you would mind.  “Photo creds, @Rebecca McKenzie,” he simply captioned it. That’s where M/C probably found you.

I met M/C last week.  She reached out to me on Facebook, after curiously searching your profile.  Don’t worry, she didn’t expose any information about you online.  She’s smarter than that (though you probably already knew).

I was hesitant at first, but I was also desperately clinging onto any last hope I had of you, Jake.  I put my full trust in her – this stranger who messaged me on a whim - and she returned it ever-so graciously.  

Do you wanna know how M/C looked, when she walked into my apartment?  She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail, and sunglasses tucked at the top of her head.  She wore a green v-neck tee, and paired it off with blue jeans and white sneakers.  Her eyes shone vibrantly, and she carried a smile that could light up the entire night sky.  No wonder she captured your attention.

She’s incredibly, and effortlessly beautiful, Jake. A little bit on the younger side (no judgment here, cuz), but beautiful on the inside and out nonetheless.  

She shared all the wild adventures the two of you had in La Huerta, from your first encounter in your cockpit (Princess, really?) to the last time she had you in her arms, and how you stuffed your dog tag in her hands, reminding her that you’ll be thinking of her every step of the way. M/C offered to let me keep your dog tag, or to gift it to your parents. She thinks we deserve the memory of you more than she does, a college girl who’d spent less than a month with the pilot who brought her and her classmates a lifetime’s worth of adventure. I didn’t take it from her, of course. There’s a reason you gave it to her, and besides, I have enough memories of you as it is.  

When my fingers grazed your dog tag, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Every part of me shuddered.  I had real evidence in my hands, that you are somewhere out there.  You’re somewhere out there, making a means to an end, living the life you believe you’ve been destined for.  

M/C filled me in on why you deserted your station, the whole Lundgren situation and all.  I swear to god Jake, if I could, and if I ever get the opportunity to kill him, I will.  His worthless life deserves to be put behind bars, not you.  I’ve never wanted to strangle anyone more than I do with him.

Your fingers twitch a little at the thought of Lundgren.  The thought of him - even a simple task such as writing his name down - makes your blood boil with revenge.

You rub your arm soothingly, attempting to rid the goosebumps that have raised underneath your skin, and try to recall the good, the better memories M/C had of Jake.  While it was truly magical that you had someone at your dining table, resurrecting your compassion and hope for your long-lost cousin, what was even more magnificent was the fierce passion M/C had in her eyes when she talked about him. You watched her pupils dilate at any mention of Jake, how they gleamed underneath your kitchen’s warm lighting as she vividly described every detail of the short time they spent in La Huerta, and how she rubs the dog tag in her hand, as if it reassured her that this was real, her memories are real, Jake is real.  

In that moment, you realized that the woman sitting in front you - your last glimmer of hope, “Princess” - was hopelessly and selflessly in love with your cousin, Jacob Lucas McKenzie.  

And there was nothing either one of you can do about it.   

Do you love her, Jake, like she loves you? She didn’t tell me specifically, but actions speak louder than words.  It’s been two years and she’s still clinging onto some hope that maybe one day – just one day, you’ll be in each others arms again.  And I would like nothing more for you to be happily fulfilled with your life, with her alongside.  

I cannot even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve had to face these past eight years.  It’s so messed up.  I completely understand if you want to throw your past away and leave it all behind, Jake. But please don’t let this potential future slip away from your hands, just because you’re scared.  She’s scared too.  But she’s just as feisty, as stubborn, and as determined as you are, Jake; which means she’s not willing to give up on you yet.  And I know deep down, there doesn’t go a day where she doesn’t cross your mind, either.  

I love you, Jake.  All I want for you is to chase the life you want to live. Don’t give up yet.  Because I haven’t.  And if I haven’t, you know I’ll find a way.  One day, Jake.  One day you’ll see the woman you’re meant to be with, again.  

I miss you.  Wherever you are, take care of yourself, okay?  I’ll protect M/C to the best I can, no matter what happens.  

Love, Reb.