#bo buchanan

[laboulaie]

Kassie DePaiva and Robert S Woods (Bo) behind the scenes of OLTL in 2013

[mariocki]

Tentacoli (Tentacles, 1977)

"I always heard that octopuses don't attack humans, is that true?"

"It is. I guess he had a reason to do it."

"Is it true that the suckers on their tentacles are as deadly as the claws of a tiger?"

"Claws are nothing compared to those, Turner. Nothing."

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[insomniumstella]

stuck in the middle (1) | bucky x avenger!reader 

summary: Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, explicit language, alcohol consumption, sarcastic!bucky

word count: 4,050

taglist is down below (please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!)

WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE masterlist

series’ SPOTIFY playlist 

Wanda had never considered herself too lucky, but she had not been entirely unfortunate either. 

She’d often get the last croissant at her favorite coffee shop or find money in every little corner of the compound — abandoned lockers at the gym, behind the coffee jar in the pantry, in the pocket of Tony’s pants that one and only time he had asked the girl to wash them for him.

Wanda could remember the day she had won her first contest vividly. The anxiety at the pit of her stomach, the crinkling of paper as she tore open a brown envelope, the pure joy when she had found out about receiving a pink toaster oven. That fateful day had forever been burned into her memories. 

A couple of weeks later, she had entered a second competition after accidentally stumbling upon it in a random magazine and won again and again until Wanda, getting all sorts of things for free, became a running joke at the compound. It had been no different after a major travel company had announced a contest for a free vacation in Hawaii months ago, she could sense, before she had even opened the oversized box Maui Dreams had delivered to the Avengers’ headquarters. 

Wanda had been right; she had not exhausted her luck yet. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry!” She threw the soldier a sheepish glance before dragging y/n out of the training facility that afternoon. Wanda had paid little mind to James, and if looks could kill, she would’ve been six feet under. 

It was only when the two girls had reached the compound’s kitchen did y/n notice that Wanda was still in her pajamas, holding a bright pink paper slip. The redhead’s expression was a mixture of anxiety and bewilderment, and y/n couldn’t decide which one she’d prefer to experience first if neither wasn’t an option. 

“Training with Bucky is a nightmare, so thank you for the temporary rescue, but,” she gestured to the paper Wanda was holding before getting a water bottle from the fridge, “what’s this, and why is it making you upset?” 

“This,” Wanda held up the CONGRATULATIONS: HAWAII AWAITS! letter, “is a note granting me a free vacation in Hawaii.” She chewed on her lip, staring at y/n. “Hawaii!” 

“Yes, Hawaii.” She nodded, unsure as if one wrong word would cause Wanda to lose her temper. 

“This,” she waved the paper in y/n’s face, “is a free pass for a week in paradise, and I cannot go! I read their terms and conditions and, shit, I even emailed them, but,” heavy accent laced itself around her words, “they’ve decided that for the reason that Vision is a robot, and I’m a foreign weapon of mass destruction we cannot go.” She spoke mockingly, rolling her eyes. “They worded it differently, but it seems ridiculous nonetheless.” 

“Modern problems require modern solutions.” She offered Wanda a half smile, trying to make a joke out of the situation. “Besides, they might’ve been right about the destruction part of the email.” She added in a much quieter voice, referring to the complex of buildings her teammate had recently destroyed. 

It had been purely an accident, a blunder of magic most would've had a difficult time controlling if one was to ask y/n. However, it had been a pure catastrophe if one was to ask the American government. 

“It was an accident, and the houses were empty.” The redhead cocked her head to the side, face painted in faux shock at y/n’s accusations. 

“Offer the trip to Steve. Heaven knows Captain Rogers needs a break.” She finished the water bottle, throwing it into the trash. “We can talk later, but I must get going.”

James Buchanan Barnes was undoubtedly still waiting in the training facility, and, though y/n had little desire to finish training, she couldn’t bail again. Besides, James had been beating her ass at hand-to-hand combat the past few weeks, and she’d be everything she had always despised if she gave him the satisfaction of giving up that easily. 

“I did.” The guilty undertones in Wanda’s tone stopped y/n in her tracks, and she glanced at the redhead from over her shoulder. “I signed up the two of you for the vacation.” 

Bewilderment burned in y/n’s eyes. “What?!” 

“Pack your bags.” The younger girl chuckled, leaning against the bar. Her smile was everything but innocent. “The plane leaves tomorrow evening.” 

The woman tried arguing, she did. 

As soon as James had dismissed her from training, she had been running around in meek attempts to locate Steve, and even when she had finally succeeded, Wanda’s story proved to be true. The schedules had been cleared, Steve’s bags had been packed. It was suspicious, way too suspicious — the Steve she had known for almost ten years already, wouldn’t have willingly signed up for a vacation. It was an all-expenses-paid vacation in Hawaii, yes, but everything had appeared too perfect for it to be true.

She found herself on the plane the next evening nonetheless because if The Captain Rogers agreed to it, she could see herself tanning topless, a Moscow Mule in hand, as well. The universe must’ve heard y/n’s prayers and decided to bless her with a miracle. Thank you, universe, she thought, sipping on a vodka soda the flight attendant had given her as soon as she sat down in the business-class seat. Though the airplane could never compare to the luxury of Tony’s private jets, which dripped with excessive luxury, it was far better than flights with the team, for this flight had no bickering or shouting. I need more of these, y/n decided when a nearby passenger kept slamming their backpack into the overhead bin, I need more vodka.

“This compartment must be full. Perhaps you should try the compartment next to it?” She softly suggested, flipping through the airline’s in-flight shopping catalog.

She loved boarding first for the copious amounts of space in the overhead bins because the loss of storage was the sorrow passengers who boarded last suffered.

“What the fuck?” Bucky gawked at her before giving the backpack a final push and deciding to shove it underneath the seat when it didn’t fit. “Where the fuck is Steve?” His loud voice earned judging glances from the people with kids in the row ahead of them, but he paid the family no mind.

“James?!”

Devil himself sat beside y/n, his perplexed expression matching hers. No, no, no, Steve wouldn’t.

The woman had been overly excited to meet Bucky in all his glory after the court had declared him innocent. And, sure, he had stabbed her the first time they met, but y/n had been willing to put the past behind the pair and start fresh. Everyone deserved a second chance, or everyone except Bucky, she had determined, when he had been nothing but an asshole for the last five years. It had never been a ‘James hates everyone’ issue, no, it was a ‘Bucky hates y/n’ issue. If he was determined to make her life a living hell, she was more than happy to return the favor, declaring war.

“Did you put him up to this?”

“What?”

“Did you switch places with Steve?” He repeated in a far bolder and louder voice.

She could not comprehend the words that rolled off of his tongue. Why would she, the woman who had recently replaced his almond milk with whole milk, knowing he’d suffer immensely, but doing it anyway just for the fun of it, ask Steve to go on a vacation with James?

“Yes, sergeant, I begged Steve for a week in paradise with the great James Buchanan Barnes.”

The soldier raised a brow, digging into his back pocket to retrieve something y/n deemed as a brick — an old, barely usable cellphone Bucky used for his personal endeavors. She peeked at the contact list of three whole people and snickered to herself. Steve, Sam, and his therapist were the only numbers he had saved. Though it did not come as a surprise, it was amusing to witness.

“Sir, please put the phone away, we are preparing for takeoff.”

His head shot up at the sound of the flight attendant’s voice. James glanced between the insufferable woman in the seat on his left and the woman with a pleasant smile standing nearby, carefully choosing his next battle.

“There’s been a misunderstanding.” He grinned apologetically, but closed the flip phone. “I just need to make a quick call.” 

“The plane door’s open,” y/n shrugged, pretending to look unbothered as if Bucky’s appearance on the plane wasn’t the most horrifying of problems, “you could let me go on the trip alone,” she paused, pretending to be in deep thought, “I’d be distraught, of course, but it’d be nothing a little Hawaiian sun and a martini couldn’t fix.”

Bucky scoffed at her. Was she really that stuck up to believe she was the only one in need of a holiday? 

James wouldn’t outright admit it, but he desperately craved a break from the stress of high-stakes missions, frequently occurring chaos in the compound, from y/n, who had ruined his last Wednesday by switching his almond milk to whole milk. He had stayed up in the bathroom until midnight, missing out on a potentially incredible date. It would've been his third after James had gotten his mind back and y/n had wrecked it, prompting a stream of angry messages from Jennifer, a bartender at a local bar. 

“The door is actually closed, ma’am. Please fasten your seatbelts and turn all devices on airplane mode.” The flight attendant’s smile faltered for a second. “Would you like me to bring you another vodka soda when we’re in the air?” She questioned, gesturing to y/n’s empty plastic cup as an offer for consolation.

“Make it double, please.” She nodded eagerly, the appalling realization of James and her being stuck on an airplane to Hawaii slowly creeping in.

The soldier threw an unamused glare in the girl’s direction, "if you throw up-“

“Oh my,” the annoyance in her tone was evident when she spoke, “that was one time, James,” she pushed a finger into his chest, “It was Halloween, and I wanted to outdrink Steve, and-“

“And I don’t care.” He shuffled in his seat for a more comfortable position. The plane was suddenly too hot and too cramped for James to stomach. “Just don’t throw up and, this one you might find difficult executing, stop talking to me. It’s bad enough I got tricked into getting on a plane with the most aggravating woman alive.” The words dripped with poison, firm and calculated. The former sentence was harsh, but it was his truth.  

“When we land, you could stay at the airport,” she turned to face him, her knees bumping against his half on purpose, half because of the tight space between them, “and get on the next flight to upstate New York.”

James sneered, “sounds like a plan. I sincerely hope you’ll exceed at completing it.” If anyone was to catch the next flight to NYC it would be y/n, he’d make sure of it.

She studied him, hoping her deadly stare would frighten the soldier, yet he didn’t move, make a sound, or change facial expressions. He remained entirely cool on the outside, and it infuriated her.  

The next time her knees bumped into his, it was deliberate. “I need a vacation.” If James wanted to, and he did, he would’ve purposely mistaken the comment for a plea. A plea for sympathy from none other than y/n, the woman who never begged people for anything.

“As do I.” 

“This is only the beginning then, princess,” she snatched the phone from his hands, aggressively flipping it shut from when he had turned it on after the flight attendant had left his sight, “this monstrosity is old enough to be a safety hazard, and it definitely does not have airplane mode.”

“Good. Perhaps it’ll kill us both and put me out of this misery.” He hissed, capturing y/n’s wrist.

She almost hoped it would.

“Honeymoon?!”

“I might have twisted the truth slightly,” Wanda’s voice sounded distracted over the phone.

“Slightly? I’m on a fucking honeymoon with Bucky Barnes, Wanda.” She could see Bucky through the glass windows from where she was standing in the smoking area outside of the hotel.

“Mmmh.”

“They’re putting us in the Lovers’ Suite as we speak. There’s probably going to be rose petals everywhere.”

“First, calm down.” Wanda switched the iPhone to her left side, holding it in place with her shoulder and cheek as she painted her nails.

Though she wouldn’t admit it, hearing the betrayal in y/n’s voice was the highlight of her week. She loved the girl, and if it came down to it, she’d die for her, but the situation was amusing at the least.

Steve had been the first person to find out about Hawaii, and when he made a seemingly silly joke that she should send Bucky and y/n on a honeymoon, a plan had been born.

“Second, you love roses.” A foolproof plan of Steve and Wanda to help the idiots notice what they had been blind to. “Besides it’s just for one week.”

“One week with Bucky Barnes is one week too long.”

“Please send me photos of you two at the beach.” The redhead chuckled.

“There will be no photos of us at the beach,” she replied, her tone dripping with poison, “I hope you know that I will forever hate you.”

“Don’t blame me. I didn’t know Bucky would show up instead of Steve.” Wanda lied through her teeth. 

She had known about the ordeal that would unfold. In fact, she had masterfully orchestrated it all. It was y/n’s fault for believing Captain America would choose a vacation over missions and meetings he had been scheduled to attend.

“Steve better sleep with his eyes open when I get back.”

“I love you!” Wanda hung up the phone before y/n could get another word in.

“Shit.” She cursed under her breath when the phone suddenly became silent.

The soldier’s sickeningly charming smile was the last thing y/n expected when she strutted up to the reception desk.

“Darling, would you mind showing your ID? It’s the final thing we need to check in.”

She raised a brow at James, confused. “What?”

He threw her a brief, unimpressed glance before softening his eyes and gesturing to the woman. “Aaliyah has the room ready early, but she needs both of our IDs to check us in. It’s mentioned in the rules of the contest.”

The contest Wanda had used to trick her. May she burn in Sokovian hell.

“Yes, both parties must present their IDs. It’s simply a formality.” Aaliyah chimed in. “Our staff always get informed of the winners’ names. It’s the only way to redeem activities, meals at the à la carte restaurants, and special discounts.”

“Would a driver’s license work?” She asked, rummaging through her purse before sliding a random ID over the counter.

“Of course!” The receptionist’s smile was too bright and too happy for nine in the morning, y/n decided, but then again, it was Hawaii, so perhaps people functioned differently here. “Is this your first honeymoon?”

“It is!” She answered too quickly and without giving James a chance to speak. “We’ve just been too busy to notice as time flew by. Today’s our fourth wedding anniversary.” The words fell out of her mouth quicker than y/n could stop them, and she winced at the lie.

“Congratulations! I’ll have a romantic dinner arranged for tonight. Would seven work, or should I schedule it at eight?”

She had been entirely wrong. The universe cursed her — the tipsiness from the vodka was wearing off, the week in paradise turned out to be a faux honeymoon, and the random ID, she had provided hurriedly so as to not arouse suspicions on why a regular traveler carried that many driver’s licenses, was issued under the name of none other than Amelie Barnes. The ID had never been a problem until today when it incriminated y/n as Bucky’s wife and became the ultimate punishment for all the sins she had committed against the soldier.

Perhaps I should clean out my wallet sometimes. 

“We wouldn’t want to cause any trouble, Aaliyah.” He awkwardly patted y/n on the shoulder. “You must deal with hundreds of honeymooners every day.”

“Nonsense. It’d be my pleasure.”

“The flight was exhausting,” James tried again, “we’ll probably enjoy a drink or two and call it a night.”

"It's fine, really." She chimed in, stepping further away from James and his awkward touches. "We want to order room service anyways." 

"Yes!" He agreed, glancing at y/n. "A burger sounds divine." The timber of Bucky's voice was utterly unconvincing. 

"Scheduling a dinner? It sounds too tiring and too long of a process." The woman offered Aaliyah a foolish grin, resting her elbows on the reception desk and propping her head in her hands. 

She had attempted to sound unbothered, but her delivery of words had been quite ridiculous. She appeared eccentric, stupidly staring at the employee through panicked eyes. I am not his wife, he is not my husband. Please, woman, do not arrange a romantic dinner for the two of us tonight.

Unfortunately, the receptionist did not turn out to be a mind reader. 

“It's not," she narrowed her eyes before her tightly pursed lips switched into a smile, "seven it is then! Toro Toro is our finest restaurant and will be perfect for a passionate anniversary celebration.”

“Great.” Bucky muttered under his breath.

She slid two pamphlets over the desk, “One of the pamphlets is a map of the hotel, and the other is a list of honeymoon activities. Couples massage seems to be the fan favorite.” She typed something on the computer before pushing the IDs and two sets of room keys in their direction, “Brody will lead you to the suite. Welcome to Hawaii Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.”

“I’m not going to the dinner.” James slumped into the couch.

The room was spacious and elegant, and, her intuition had been right, covered in rose petals. A bottle of champagne stood in a bucket of ice on the coffee table, a generous fruit basket and a note next to it. She landed on the opposite side of the sofa, picking up the postcard to read it.

Welcome to Hawaii — paradise awaits. We wish you a passionate and blissful honeymoon. The mea inu (drinks) are on us!

“Fine by me.” She let out a strangled chuckle at the irony of it all. “Do you think the receptionist was in on it?”

“Aaliyah?” James reached down to pop the champagne open. “She might be on something, that much I can say, but,” he took a sip from the bottle before pouring himself a glass and then, after a second of hesitation, begrudgingly poured y/n a glass too, “to think Steve would set her up is a reach.”

“Wanda would. She knew about the flights and the honeymoon package, and,” y/n got silent and took a big gulp of champagne when a sudden realization set in, “what were the rules of the contest?”

“I’m not Google on legs, y/n.” An aggravated sigh slipped past his lips.

She craved to spit a sarcastic comment at James but refrained against it. 

“What if we have to pretend to be a couple? What if the contest is designed in a way that a pair of friends or strangers cannot redeem the prize, and we’ll have to pay for everything? Tony would skin us.”

“The receptionist mentioned something along the lines of people scamming the contest’s company, but this is utter nonsense. There were five winners in total, they couldn’t possibly monitor each pair.”

“They could take away the activities.” She raised a brow, finishing her drink. “Bye, bye scuba diving.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, we are,” the word got lost in his throat as James made a disgusted face, “a couple as of thirty minutes ago. In fact, we’re celebrating our fourth wedding anniversary.”

“The ID was issued a little over four years ago, Barnes.”

“And? You just had to run your big mouth and get us a reservation for a romantic dinner, didn’t you?”

“I panicked!” She raised her voice, finding a way into the bedroom. It was a monstrosity compared to the living room, decorated with not only rose petals but Hershey's chocolate kisses and candles everywhere. “The driver’s license I pulled happened to be under the name of Amelie Barnes, she saw it was issued a little over four years ago and most likely assumed I had changed my name soon after our wedding.”

“The wedding we never had.”

She had been wiping roses off the bed and onto the floor, emptying a pair of heavy suitcases on the satin sheets as soon as it was clean.

“It’s not like I could’ve snatched the ID and presented another. Perhaps she recognized you, the infamous Winter Soldier, but I, if you need a refresher,” the woman disappeared into the balcony when James came into the bedroom, “work under disguises.” Her voice was almost a whisper in the morning’s wind. “I’m the Avenger without a name.”

Nick Fury had imposed a great deal of strength and a great deal of sorrow upon y/n when she had finished S.H.I.E.L.D. training. She had excelled in many areas, but lying was her forte. The woman had once loved to be a ghost story, to embody a superhero without an identity, especially when fellow Avengers couldn't show faces in public without getting recognized. All good things come to an end, she had learned when the lies had become a burden, bleeding into her personal life, and y/n had found herself largely alone. James, a man she despised, had more genuine memories of y/n than her past lovers ever would. Over the years, it had evolved into as generous of a problem as it had been an opportunity. 

“This is bad.” Bucky followed after her. “We cannot be seen together.”

“As if we usually are.”

“I’m being serious, y/n. Forget about the money. What if someone recognizes me and connects the quite obvious dots that you might be working for the  Avengers as well?” James leaned on the balcony railing, too close to y/n for her enjoyment.

The woman stayed silent, enjoying the view. The sky was stained with various hues of blue, lighter than the endless ocean ahead of them. It was nothing short of breathtaking, glorious even. Hawaii was truly a paradise on Earth with its sandy air and pleasantly warm sun, whose rays gently caressed her skin.

“Officially you are retired. The public isn’t aware of your affiliation with Avengers.” She reminded. "Amelie Barnes is the wife of a retired officer, nothing less, nothing more."

There was a chance they could run into a former HYDRA agent or a politician the Avengers had tried and failed to lock up, but the chance was too slim to become a burden. Perhaps we could make this work, she thought and stole a glance at Bucky. She would stay on her side of the hotel while he would stay on his, and if need be, they’d pretend to be a couple without getting noticed by these vacationing villains James referred to. It had happened before, once, when Sam had a genius idea of catching an arms dealer at an upscale club in New York City. James had kissed her then, and much to y/n’s surprise, she hadn’t stopped breathing or dropped dead. They had caught the trafficker and went on their merry ways — Bucky continued to exhaust her ass at training, and y/n had switched his conditioner to body wash amongst other, less innocent, endeavors. Much to her dismay, his hair continued to stay shiny and, in Wanda’s words, quite fabulous.

“Yes, sergeant, villains just happen to vacation at The Maui Resort.” She poked fun at his obnoxious concerns, disappearing back into the bedroom.

As of now, there was only a single problem y/n needed to resolve.

Should she suggest James sleeps on the floor or in the marble bathtub?

TAGS:

@legohe4rts

@legohe4rts 

[btwxsixesandsevens]

Hey, I know it seems a little facile a topic today, but for the one thing you like and dislike about a character can I ask two?

James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes and Koska Reeves

Today's a good day for facile, frond.

Like/Dislike: James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes.

I like his pain and his struggle to own that pain and make it matter. He's my most abject love of drama and emotion and over the top everything. Then you take all of that and give him a Black woman love interest? You had me at hello. What I dislike about him is mostly fanon -- he's something of the fandom bicycle -- but does include his stony refusal to just be friends with people in the MCU. Sam. Natasha. Yelena. Fuck, just relax and have a beer Buck, seriously. He does it in the comics, but the MCU acts like he has to continue to be stone cold even when he's come back from Hydra. Let the man heal. shit.

Bonus points for Sebastian Stan as the actor. He does a great job of capturing the boyish, good looking but plain aspect of Bucky. what I wrote about him and I think it is most true:

"Even before the war, he’d been tall, dark, handsome in a way that made people like him, but not trust him, not with their deepest selves." Stan brings that to his portrayal.

Like/Dislike: Koska Reeves.

She's a great sidekick for Bo-Katan. I imagine her as less serious that Bo, more human, but utterly devoted not to any particular cause but to Bo herself. Not in love -- they may fuck, but neither of them would describe it in romantic terms. it is more like...Greek soldiers, where the senior one fucks the junior one as the natural part of their lifelong relationship. it affirms who's "in charge" and binds them as soliders. I like the way Koska backs Bo's play, but every now and then will kinda look at Bo like "you know you're wrong about this. We'll discuss it later." I like her strength and swagger and sneer. What do I dislike? I'd like her to be more than just a sidekick. I Want her to step out from Bo's shadow and express her self more. There's a fic in there somewhere, I'm sure, just haven't put my mind to it yet.

and Mercedes Varnado/Sasha Banks as her actor? fuck yes.

[sweet-poisoned-kisses]

Rules and Character Roster

note: out of respect for the developers whose games that i write for, this blog is strictly 18+ despite being mainly sfw. please respect that rule and understand that under 18 and no age in bio blogs will be blocked. thank you.

Sibling blog to pixels-writing

RULES

STUFF I WILL NOT WRITE

Character x Character (This is an x reader blog only!! Poly with reader is the only exception)

Smut

Alpha/Beta/Omega

Incest

Extreme romantic age gaps, regardless if both parties are over 18

Sexual assault situations

Anything about real-life people

If a character has a canon sexuality, I’d prefer not to go against it. The most I’ll bend for it is a gender-neutral reader

If I’m not sure about the gender of a character I’m going to refer to them as they/them

I’m willing to do headcanons, scenarios, and short fanfictions maybe some other stuff. Headcanon lists doesn’t really have a limit (the more characters included, the shorter the headcanons!) and scenarios will be maxed at 3 with fanfictions, obviously, at 1. Fanfictions will not be multiple chapters.

Other Things to Note:

This blog is like, self-indulgence town for me so most/all of the characters are probably going to be OOC

Please be clear on what gender/pronouns you want!! Otherwise, it’ll be gender-neutral.

I’m open to suggestions for other fandoms! I’m the kind of person to try anything at least once.

I will occasionally post things for characters that are not on my list, usually if they are from an old fandom and/or I know no one will request for them but I still wanna write for them!

If I say no, I’ll try to refer you to another blog that might say yes.

Masterlist HERE

FANDOMS I CAN WRITE FOR

Games

Boyfriend to Death 1 & 2

Sano

Akira

Strade

Ren

Rire

Vincent (I'm willing to add Farz if requested)

Lawrence

Cain

Damien

The Price of Flesh

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Till Death Do Us Part

Marcus de le Cruz

Chris King

Aria King

Jack Buchanan

Ellen Klein

My Dear Hatchet Man

Alan Orion

See Thru: Need a Friend

Friend

Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack

Sunny Day Jack

Your Boyfriend

Peter

John Doe

John

14 Days With You

Ren

DachaBo

Bo

Degrees of Lewdity

Kylar the Loner

Robin the Orphan

Slashers

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Misc. Other

Creepypasta

Jeff the Killer

Eyeless Jack

Ben Drowned

Slenderman

Splendorman

Trenderman

Offenderman

Laughing Jack

Jane the Killer

Homicidal Liu/Sully

Ticci Toby

Masky

Hoodie

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Unholy Alliance

▲ Strange bedfellows: Christian Right leader Tim LaHaye and Moonie official Bo Hi Pak (inset).

________________________________

Mother Jones magazine, January 1986 pages 14, 16-17 44, 46

by Carolyn Weaver

A bizarre marriage is now under way in the shadows of American politics. The coy but ambitious bride is the Christian Right. The mysterious bridegroom is the Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Unification Church, an international cult with apparently unlimited means and a well-developed taste for power. This peculiar alliance is blessed with Moonie money and fired by anticommunist zeal. Witnesses to the wedding may well wonder, however, what this unholy union holds for American politics.

I stumbled upon this secret liaison through an eye-opening letter that fell into my hands last summer. While interviewing a woman named Beverly LaHaye, head of a conservative women’s organization, I ran out of tape. LaHaye’s public relations director helpfully provided me with another cassette.

Searching for the end of my interview that evening (which I never found—the batteries had failed), I came upon some highly revealing correspondence that had been dictated by LaHaye’s husband, the Reverend Tim LaHaye[1], head of the largest network of Christian Right leaders. The Lord works in mysterious ways. With appalled delight I listened to the Reverend LaHaye’s chummy note to Colonel Bo Hi Pak, the number two man in the Unification Church.

The Reverend LaHaye, a former television evangelist, had dictated the letter in early 1985, a time when he was riding high on the success of his new American Coalition for Traditional Values (ACTV). ACTV, whose executives include television evangelists Jerry Falwell, Jim Bakker, and Jimmy Swaggart, claimed to have registered 2 million new Christian voters for the 1984 elections. Born-again Christians gave Ronald Reagan nearly one out of every five votes he received that year, or half his margin of victory.

The friend to whom LaHaye wrote is also a religious believer and political enthusiast, although his theological doctrines would make most fundamentalist Christians shudder. Bo Hi Pak has spent most of his life in the service of “Master,” South Korean evangelist Sun Myung Moon, who teaches that Jesus Christ failed in his mission and that God is now “throwing away” Christianity.

Hinting broadly that he himself is the second Messiah, the Reverend Moon has boasted that he will “conquer and subjugate the world,” establish an “automatic theocracy,” and make fornication a capital offense. “Many people will die —those who go against our movement,” Moon has predicted. But when it prevails, he says, God himself will acknowledge, “‘Reverend Moon is far better than me, the Heavenly Father.’”

To the average fundamentalist, Pak would fit the profile of altar boy to the Antichrist. Yet the Moon empire, which he administers, is a generous supporter of many conservative crusades, and it was this generosity that apparently prompted the Reverend LaHaye’s warm, confiding letter. “Dear Bo Hi,” began the Reverend LaHaye:

This letter is being written at 37,000 feet out of Chicago en route to San Francisco. Although I don’t like to face this fact, I will not be home for one month. Sometimes I think I must be mad to keep up this pace. In fact, God has convicted me about abusing my body even in a good cause like this. So I plan to turn down more speaking engagements that do not contribute to ACTV objectives and my FLS [Family Life Seminars] ministry of radio-TV specials and writing.

Bev and I are beginning to enjoy living in Washington, D.C., more every day, and to my amazement it is beginning to seem like home. As soon as we can get our radio time changed from 7:00 to 8:00 each night to 1:00 to 2:00p.m. daily, we want to have you and your wife over for dinner.

Bo Hi, I am encouraged! Amid the bad signs I see today, I also detect a lot of good signs. The secretary of education, Don Regan, Ed Meese, Pat Buchanan, and many others. Even physical ailments to three of our 76 [year-old] flaming liberal Supreme Court justices. Bev was invited to the White House yesterday and introduced to over 300 conservative leaders as “the president of the largest women’s organization in America—over twice as large as NOW”… and was extended thunderous applause. She is rather retiring by nature and was modestly embarrassed. I believe she is going to be given some unique opportunities in the future because of the growth of her organization. In fact, the conservatives at the White House are trying to get her appointed as a delegate along with Marcella [sic] Meese to the International Women’s Year Conference to be held in June in Africa. That would be a golden opportunity for Bev to get better acquainted with the new attorney general’s wife and also to learn what the radical Left out of Moscow is planning for the women of the world in the 1990s.

On this trip, I will be going to the Holy Land with Jerry Falwell and speaking for his three-day conference on prophecy. Confidentially, during that time I am going to talk to him about 1988 and my strategy for his winning the [Republican presidential] primary. I’m convinced he can beat Teddy in the general election if we could just get him through the primary. I hope Pat Robertson doesn’t make a play for the same thing and divide the Christian vote. I think Jerry will like my plan to recruit 435 activists, one in each congressional district, to work under our ACTV city chairman. I’ll let you know what he says.

Once again, my friend, I am in your debt for your generous help to our work. You don’t know how timely it was! This move and reorganization of the whole ministry to free me for more time in Washington and ACTV activities has been extremely expensive, much more so than I originally thought. But I see daylight down the road and feel it is all part of the Master’s plan. As soon as I can afford it, I plan to hire a PR firm to give more coverage for ACTV, get our message to the people.

God Bless you! Let’s plan to sit together at the first CBS shareholders’ meeting when Jesse Helms makes his move to take it over.

Your friend, Tim.

LaHaye’s letter is a striking example of the growing bond between Moon’s well-heeled cult and fundamentalists and other elements of the New Right. It is still a love that dare not speak its name, because New Right leaders realize this affair would dismay many of their followers. Recently, however, as the Far Right has grown increasingly indebted to Moon, the relationship has begun to emerge from the closet.

Some aspects of this affair are right out in the open. The Washington Times, headed by Pak, loses millions of dollars a year, but it has bought Moon gratitude and influence among the capital’s ruling rightists. Pak legally contributed $10,000 to the Republican National Committee last year and has been photographed in friendly meetings with the president.

But much of Moon and Pak’s work is covert, accomplished through a bewildering array of Unification Church entities and front groups. In 1984 Causa[2], Moon’s anticommunist organization, contributed $500,000 to a political action group headed by New Right leader Terry Dolan. Causa has also sponsored all-expenses paid trips to educational conferences for thousands of journalists, clergy, academics, political leaders, and anyone else who appears useful. One minister who attended a five-day Causa conference reported that he had been offered the staggering sum of $150,000 for his church. Causa is also spending millions of dollars to establish a political base for Moon in Latin America.

Money seems to be no object, as far as Moon is concerned. Between 1975 and 1984, he brought $800 million into the United States from Japan alone, two former high officials in the Japanese branch of the church told the Washington Post.[3] The full story behind Moon’s wealth remains unknown. But much of it is said to come from the sale of religious icons in Japan[4] and a worldwide network of holdings that include a South Korean weapons manufacturing company, fishing fleets[5], real estate, a titanium firm, and a string of newspapers in Uruguay[6], Cyprus, and Japan.

Moon has been blunt about the purpose of his spending spree. His mission is to “unify” the world under a theocracy headquartered in Korea, and the weak-willed, democratic United States is to be only a stepping-stone. According to the congressional testimony of Alan Tate Wood[7], a former high-ranking official in the Unification Church, Moon told followers in 1970: “Part of our strategy must be to make friends in the FBI, the CIA, and the police forces, the military and business community … as a means of entering the political arena, influencing foreign policy, and ultimately of establishing absolute dominion over the American people.” In the mid-1970s, Moon and Pak were implicated in the Koreagate bribery scandal as accomplices in the Korean government’s campaign to win influence over U.S. officials.[8]

The beaming, round-faced Moon still has exuberant political visions, but nowadays he tones down his rhetoric. In less grandiose moments, he merely talks of using the electoral process to gain control of the U.S. government. The Reverend Tim LaHaye and his clerical brothers on the Christian right are also filled with visions of political glory. And they have few qualms about embracing Moon, if that’s what it takes to create their holy state.

Last October, LaHaye’s American Coalition for Traditional Values held a conference in Washington’s Shoreham Hotel on “How to Win an Election.” Several hundred “pastor-leaders” representing ACTV’s network of over 100,000 fundamentalist churches listened appreciatively to the leading lights of the New Right: Jack Kemp, Jesse Helms; Paul Weyrich, Newt Gingrich[9], Jerry Falwell[10]. One by one, they came forth, offering congratulations to ACTV for its 1984 success and encouragement and advice for 1986 and 1988. “By the grace of God, we will raise up an army,” an enthusiastic LaHaye told the gathering.

Later, LaHaye introduced an honored guest, a middle-aged man who sat quietly at a reserved table just below the dais. LaHaye referred to his South Korean friend as “a great American” and head of the most conservative paper in the United States. LaHaye neglected to tell his fellow believers in “traditional values” that this special guest, Colonel Bo Hi Pak[11], also presided over a cult[12] notorious for its anonymous mass marriages and encouragement of family breakups[13]. Nor did LaHaye cite the “generous help” Pak had given him, as he had in his appreciative letter.

Pak returned to the conference for a banquet that evening: After dinner, LaHaye revealed the coalition’s plans for the 1986 elections: a $3 million drive to recruit 50,000 volunteers[14] to work for the election of conservative Christian candidates to the House and the Senate.Then LaHaye made his pitch. ACTV needed the ongoing support of its members. He invited the ministers to make a gift that night and to commit themselves to monthly donations as well. There were envelopes on every table. But first, he said, they should search their souls to see if they could make that commitment. The banquet room fell silent as the assembled pastors bent their heads in prayer. From the concentration on their faces, there seemed to be much fervent ransacking of family budgets. When they looked up, nearly everyone reached for an envelope.

I buttonholed Pak as he concluded his warm embraces of ACTV staffers. Pak, who had shaken my hand genially, grew ominously still when I asked him if he had made a contribution. Regarding me with a cold smile, he said: “Yes, I made a contribution tonight … a personal contribution. What did you say your name was? May I have your card?”

page 44

An erect, balding man of 55, Pak has the knack of suggesting wordlessly that one has just committed an irrevocable offense, just stepped over some invisible but decisive line. I told him that I had it on good authority that he had made previous contributions to ACTV as well. “I have never made any other contribution to ACTV,” he said. He asked me to repeat my name again, as did his aide, and then bade me a polite farewell.

The Reverend Tim LaHaye is an itty-bitty man with wingy eyebrows and unnaturally brown hair, not the craggily virile pastor of his PR photographs. Communism, “secular humanism,” pornography, rape, and nuns dying of AIDS are all inseparably linked in his mind in a kind of moral domino theory. In conversation, however, LaHaye talks with most zeal about sex, or rather all the people he has helped to a fuller enjoyment of “the beautiful act of married love.” LaHaye co-wrote a Christian sex manual called The Act of Marriage with his wife, Beverly. Although the book offers some steamily detailed advice, the LaHayes don’t pretend to have all the answers. In response to a question on the permissibility of oral sex, for example, they report that the Bible is completely silent on the subject. The book also promotes a $29 mail-order device for strengthening vaginal muscles that its distributor cheerfully admits is medically useless.

Beverly LaHaye leads Concerned Women for America (CWA), a group dedicated to stamping out feminism. Even if her claim of over 500,000 “kitchen table lobbyists” is stretching it by half, CWA would still be the largest women’s political organization in the country by far. CWA members meet to pray for and against specific pieces of legislation. They also write letters—hundreds of thousands of letters, as the occasion demands. Concerned Women for America and its much smaller ally, Phyllis Schlafly’s Eagle Forum, take credit for defeating the Equal Rights Amendment.

Between them, Tim and Beverly LaHaye reach a good many of the fundamentalists in the country, with CWA functioning as the ladies’ auxiliary under ACTVs all-male cadre of pastor-leaders. It’s an army, as Christian Right leaders would put it, that meets every Sunday.

“Who?” LaHaye said. “Who did you say?” when I asked him about his friendship with Bo Hi Pak. “Oh sure, he’s a very strong conservative,” he said offhandedly. “I’ve had lunch with him a couple of times, that’s all.”

LaHaye denied that Pak ever gave him or ACTV money except for the contribution he made at the conference. As for that particular envelope, said LaHaye, he hadn’t even opened it yet. He couldn’t remember ever writing to Pak; perhaps it was one of thousands of direct-mail letters he sends out? I refreshed his memory, telling him the letter was a very personal one written months ago, but the evangelical leader was still unable to recall it. Then I told him about exhibit A. “You have a what? A tape?” he exclaimed. “You can’t, it’s impossible.”

Later, I mentioned the incredible wealth of the Unification Church and its prodigious gifts to even casual acquaintances. “Yeah, and do you know where all that money comes from?” LaHaye demanded. “I’ll tell you one thing,” he said cryptically, “it doesn’t come from selling flowers.”

La Have says he was introduced to Pak by a man named Gary Jarmin[15], a former high-ranking Moonie who has long promoted the New Right’s friendship with the Unification Church. As consultant to Christian Voice, the religious Right’s political hit team, Jarmin is one of the most powerful strategists on the Christian right. He is best known for his authorship of Christian Voice’s report cards rating “Christian/moral” votes of political candidates.

Jarmin left the Unification Church in late 1973 to continue an affair started outside the sanctions of the church, and was denied Master’s blessing upon his subsequent marriage. The political strategist was nonetheless treated to a highly unusual dispensation, according to other ex-Moonies. Moon, who has a history of planting his followers among the powerful and a doctrine of “heavenly” deception, asked Jarmin to stay in touch.

Unlike most ex-Moonies, the born-again Jarmin has remained on excellent terms with the Unification Church. With LaHaye and other fundamentalist leaders, Jarmin has operated the Moon-financed Coalition for Religious Freedom. By claiming that Moon’s 1982 imprisonment for tax falsification and obstruction of justice amounted to religious persecution, this coalition has provided fundamentalist leaders with a handy explanation for their peculiar friendship with Moon. [The judge saw Moon’s document forgery as a serious crime, and jailed him.][16]

Yet there have been stresses and strains in this unusual marriage. Useful as they find the banner “religious freedom,” Christian rightists still tend to choke on Moon’s theology. Moon, for instance, clings to his own unique interpretation of the Fall: Eve, after consorting with Lucifer, so degraded the human lineage that all families except those ordained by Moon are wrong and false. Even Jesus, the resentful product of an adulterous liaison of Mary’s, failed in his one great mission, to marry and establish a “true” family. Enter the Reverend Moon, who has sired 13 children upon “Perfect Mother,” and his plan to regraft the human race. [He had 14 children with Hak Ja Han (Hae-jin died in infancy), three other known ones with other women, and there are credible rumors of others.][17]

Last year, Jerry Falwell pointedly disavowed any further connection with the Coalition for Religious Freedom. His top aide, Moral Majority vice president Ron Godwin, attacked another fundamentalist leader in the group, saying: “It strikes me as peculiar that [he] could accept financial support from a church whose founder believes he’s divine. They’re taking money from a cult whose doctrines are 180 degrees opposed. It’s a little like the Jewish National Fund accepting money from [Yasir] Arafat.”

But over the last year, a mysterious conversion appears to have taken place among Moral Majority leaders. Many of those who left the religious freedom coalition have again lined up in Moon’s defense. Falwell himself cut short his trip to South Africa last August to appear at a Washington press conference where he and Coalition for Religious Freedom leaders urged President Reagan to pardon Moon. Even Ron Godwin has apparently revised his opinions. He recently left the Moral Majority to take a job with Moon’s media company.

The Christian Right is laying big, expensive plans for 1988. The Christian Voice’s Texas chapter led a virtual takeover of the state’s Republican party in 1984. Now they want to do it to the country at large. “If we get organized,” Gary Jarmin recently told the Religious News Service, “we could very well determine the next presidential nominee. We certainly believe that.”

If they do, part of the reason will surely be the Reverend Moon’s inexplicably deep pockets. The Christian Right seems set on taking his money and deriding his religion, a profitable application of the principle of religious tolerance. “How can you be afraid of a dying church with fewer members now than it had ten years ago?” asks LaHaye. But it is not clear which of these strange bedfellows will have the last laugh.

Carolyn Weaver is a Washington-based freelance writer. Some research materials were provided by Fred Clarkson.

____________________________________

sidebar

Moon Speaks

My dream is to organize a Christian political party including the Protestant denominations, Catholics and all the religious sects. Then the communist power will be helpless before ours…. We have to purge the corrupted politicians, and the sons of God must rule the world. The separation between religion and politics is what Satan likes most…. Upon my command to the Europeans and others throughout the world to come live in the U.S., wouldn’t they obey me? Then what would happen? We can embrace the religious world in one arm and the political world in the other. With this great ideology, if you are not confident to do this, you had better die.

—from The Master Speaks, by the Reverend Sun Myung Moon

____________________________________

[jefferyryanlong]

Infinite Pau Hana - April 17, 2024

Hour 1

Mighty Mighty (Spade and Whitey) (live) - Curtis Mayfield Gypsy Woman (live) - Curtis Mayfield The Impossible Dream - Roberta Flack Abraham, Martin, and John (live) - Smokey Robinson and the Miracles Laura Nyro Medley (live) - The 5th Dimension Who Knows Where the Times Goes (live) - Nina Simone Beside You - Van Morrison And When I Die - Laura Nyro Carey - Joni Mitchell Blue - Joni Mitchell

Hour 2

Lopin' Along Through the Cosmos - Judee Sill Joey (live) - Concrete Blonde Goin' Down South - Bobby Hutcherson If the Sea Was Whiskey - Willie Dixon and the Big Three Trio Death Don't Have No Mercy - Rev. Gary Davis Lodi - Bo Diddley Elephant Man - Bo Diddley Nephesh - Roy Buchanan He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother - Marion Williams You Can't Lose What You Ain't Never Had - Muddy Waters Standing Around Crying - Muddy Waters Good Time Tonight - Big Bill Broonzy

Hour 3

Like a Rolling Stone (live) - The Jimi Hendrix Experience Ohio / Machine Gun (live) - The Isley Brothers Won't Get Fooled Again - Labelle Somebody's Watching You - Sly and the Family Stone Uncast Shadow of a Southern Myth - Parquet Courts Forever - Marvin Gaye Dreams - The Cranberries Clair de Lune - Kamasi Washington

KTUH - 90.1 FM Honolulu, 91.1 FM North Shore, ktuh.org

[theart2rock]

Rob Tognoni

Der Tasmanische Teufel entert erneut die Bühne von Jonnys Lion-Cave 2016 stand Rob Tognoni erstmals auf der kleinen Bühne in Trübbach. 2024 kommt er zum wiederholten Male zurück. Er war Opener für Grössen wie Roy Buchanan, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Mentor Lonnie Mack, Joe Walsh von den Eagles und teilte sich Bühnen mit Peter Green, Sting, ZZ Top und Bo Diddley. Er repräsentierte Australien bei der königlichen Hochzeit von Prinz Frederik und Prinzessin Mary von Dänemark, trat beim FIFA World Cup in Kaiserslautern auf, spielte von australischen Hochsicherheitsgefängnissen bis zum Mozarthaus in Wien und machte zahllose andere Erfahrungen, die seine Fähigkeiten verfeinerten. Rob kommt ursprünglich aus Tasmanien in Australien und arbeitet unter dem Pseudonym „The Tasmanian Devil". Sein Stil ist feurig, energisch, erfinderisch und explosiv. Seine Wurzeln kommen aus dem Blues, Blues-Rock und Klassik-Rock, aber auch viele andere Einflüsse kommen hinzu, um ihm seinen Sound und seine Einzigartigkeit zu verleihen. Rob ist auch auf der Bühne voller Energie und unermüdlich. Ein Performer und nicht nur ein Musiker. Ein Nachhall von Cream, Hendrix, BB King und AC/DC sind durch seinen musikalischen Klangteppich zu hören. 20 Alben der letzten 22 Jahre sind ihm durch Labels wie Provogue und Dixiefrog zu verdanken. Blues Boulevard gepaart mit unzähligen, unermüdlichen Touren. Seine Shows sind eine einzigartige Erfahrung, die man nicht verpassen sollte. Ein britischer Journalist schrieb hierzu: Wenn man eins bewundern muss, dann Rob Tognonis Stehvermögen. Er hält wirklich ein Wahnsinnstempo durch - auch dann noch, wenn andere längst nicht mehr können. Vielleicht ist dieses Durchhaltevermögen die Konsequenz aus 30 Jahren Konditionstraining. Vielleicht ist es aber auch einfach angeboren. Bewertungen „Der Australier Rob Tognoni gilt als einer der besten und gleichzeitig auch als einer der kompromisslosesten wie auch virtuosesten Bluesrock-Gitarristen der Welt." Bluesnews - DE „Tognonis musikalische Vielseitigkeit und seine intuitive Fähigkeit, ein Publikum in seinen Energiewirbel zu ziehen, sind beeindruckend. Der Effekt ist der eines Kolbens, der seine Bewegung und seinen unerbittlichen Antrieb von einem Frontmann erhält, dessen Energieniveau einige halb so alte Gitarrenspieler in den Schatten stellen würde. Der feurige australische Bluesrocker lieferte ein Anschauungsbeispiel in funktionaler Coolness. Er schaltete ein, machte kaum eine Pause, um Luft zu holen, und startete mehrere Shuffle-Boogie-Ausflüge, unterbrochen von Killerriffs, dröhnenden Powerchords und steiniger Dynamik, die dazu dienten, seine bissigen Refrains hervorzuheben. Das Konzert beginnt um 21:00 Uhr. Es hat genügend Parkplätze beim Fussballplatz. Quelle: Jonnys Lion Cave Lesen Sie den ganzen Artikel

[bagelcraze]

Bo and Gabrielle → May 28, 2002 (x)

Gabrielle: So, what's the verdict? Do I need to start packing for Statesville? Bo: I don't think you have to pack a lot for prison, Gabrielle. Gabrielle: No. I see. Bo: I talked it over with Hank this morning. Gabrielle: Well, I'm sure you did all that you could do.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[llantano]

Turning Leaves, 18. Speculation

Viki was at home with Charlie when the doorbell rang. Charlie had been hoping for the phone to ring and did not like that someone was at the door. “Well, now, who could that be?” “I’ll get it,” Viki insisted, concerned. Charlie waited, hovering near the telephone until he saw Bo and Nora enter the foyer.  “Any news?” he asked before he even offered a hello.

“We just wanted to stop by and check in,” Bo offered as an encouraging apology. “You know that if I hear anything before you do, you’ll be the first person I call.” Nora hugged Viki.  “Clint wanted to be here but he’s caught in a meeting at B.E. right now. He’ll call later.” “How is Matthew?” Viki ushered them to the couch. “Oh, you know … still as Buchanan as ever,” was Nora’s only explanation. “Are you two sure you’re alright? Working from home today?” “Yes, we thought a quiet setting seemed more productive. We’re fine,” Viki assured. Bo wasn’t certain. “It’s just we know you both have a lot on your mind right now, with the election and everything….” “To be honest, Bo,” Viki admitted, “the election is the least of my concerns right now.” Nora wondered with a smirk, “You mean Dorian is the least of your concerns right now?” “That too,” Viki agreed. “Although she would prefer otherwise.” “I don’t know, Viki.”  Nora shook her head.  “You know she’s been waiting for a perfect opportunity to hold her head up and strike.” She mimicked the movement of a snake with her hand and arm. “Well, then, let her,” Viki insisted. “It won’t do her public image any favors.” Charlie was helpless. He glanced at the phone and Bo caught him doing it. “See, the thing is,” Bo offered, “that while she may be the least of your worries right now – and rightly so, rightly so,” he nodded, “she is also the one you can deal with.” “What are you getting at, Bo?” Charlie wondered. “The interim mayor is pretty much in a holding position until we get a new mayor in town hall. This is about the first time in years we’ve been able to do our jobs at the station without someone from the mayor’s office running interference. At the end of this election, I’m going to have a new boss, and it just remains to be seen what might happen in a situation like the one we’re facing right now, with Jared.” Viki looked over at Charlie while he nodded his understanding.  “Well, to be fair,” she offered, “I have to give Dorian some credit. I don’t think either one of us would interfere in an investigation like this one.” “Ah, the key words,” Nora insisted. “'Like this one.’” There was an awkward silence between the four as they each wondered over their own thoughts on the matter. Bo spoke up again. “By the way, Viki – this is relevant to your interests. The hotline got an anonymous tip this morning … from someone who was insisting that we should investigate the current hospital chief of staff because they said he has or had close personal ties with the former mayor.” Nora nodded with a funny all-knowing grin. “Well, isn’t that convenient?” Charlie wondered. “That’s true though,” Viki agreed. “In fact, now that I think about it, I’m surprised he managed to slip under all of our radars for so long, considering that prescriptions were a large part of the drug operation.” “So this is a concern to you?” Bo asked with genuine interest. “In fact, yes,” Viki nodded. She looked at Nora’s expression. “Why?” “I listened to the call,” Bo admitted. “The anonymous caller had a very familiar voice.” Viki slapped the top of her leg. “I knew it! I knew she was doing this. I was just telling Charlie -- the chief of staff position is why she even got involved in Lowell’s campaign to start with.�� “Because he was on the board?” Bo asked. “Yes, and he wouldn’t vote for her becoming chief of staff due to his ties with the current one … which I’m sure involved campaign contributions … and since we’re on the subject, perhaps even drugs?” They shared a collective sigh. Viki paused. “Again, to be fair, that is exactly why I decided to run for mayor as well.” “Because Dorian was supporting him?” Nora blinked. “Oh, goodness no,” Viki shook her head. “In fact, we didn’t even find out she was his campaign manager until after the decision was made. But she did help me realize that someone had to at least try to defeat Lowell.” “And she was the first to defend him. That’s rich.” Bo smirked. “But to her credit, she did get him to resign.” “And how did she get him to do that?” Charlie wondered. “Well, you know what?” Bo offered. “To me, that doesn’t matter as much as the end result. We’re finally going to have a new mayor.” He smiled at Viki. “And I’m able to do my job.  Lowell’s behind bars….” “…And Dorian’s a lesbian,” Nora grinned with glee as Viki rolled her eyes.  “Speaking of … does David still wander in here from time to time?” “Oh, yes he does,” Viki assured her. “Often. Usually on a mission.” “A Dorian-commissioned mission?” Nora smirked. “Well, you know as well as I do that there is no way this lesbian thing is even - by the widest stretch of the imagination - genuine,” Nora stated. “And yet,” Viki observed, “There really is no way to prove that or even insist upon it without aggravating the gay community – which, by the way, I still have somewhat solid support from.” “The reason I ask about David,” Nora elaborated, “… Does he still have feelings for her?” Viki smirked. “David’s sentimentality only goes so far as his libido, and yet, Dorian and David will always share a connection I don’t even want to start to contemplate.” Bo nodded agreement. “It’s sort-of tragic, you know?” Nora considered. “She divorced him – despite the fact that he was a Buchanan – presumably to be with Ray Montez. You remember how crazy she got after he left town.” “How could I forget?” Viki half-shuddered, and half-smirked. “And that happened right before all of this mayor interest came up.” “Then David comes back to town and gets caught up in this lesbian farce. She demotes him to make Amelia her campaign manager. You know this all has to be making him crazy.” Bo was a bit uncomfortable with the conversation. “I’m sure it is.” Viki was curious. “Where are you going with this, Nora?” “Well, I mean … maybe you can’t prove Dorian isn’t a lesbian right now….” “…But David can,” Viki knew. “... And he listens to you, and good ol’ Pa here,” Nora nudged Bo’s arm as she teased him. “I can’t believe you’ve had this ace up your sleeve this whole time and it hasn’t occurred to you to use it.” “Well, no offense to you, Nora, but I like to think I’m a bit bigger than that. Dorian plays in the mud and taunts me to get in with her, but I’d rather stand outside the ring and watch her make a ridiculous mess of herself for no reason. Case in point -- the LGLA.” “On the other hand,” Bo thought it out for them with startling reality, “While I would never presume that Viki doesn’t have a leg up in this election, we have Dorian on the other side with a pretty fair shot to be our next mayor – and under what we all assume to be a false pretense. You wouldn’t exactly have to get in the mud for her to look dirty all on her own.” “You’re encouraging this, Bo?” Viki gasped. “I’m just saying … there would be nothing dishonest about reminding David and Dorian of their deep-seated feelings for each other.” “I take it you’re not voting for Dorian then?” Charlie asked Bo, half-joking, and they all shared a chuckle over it. “Well, you’re right,” Viki acquiesced. “There would be nothing dishonest about it.  I just can’t help feeling a bit guilty at the thought that Dorian can be so easily manipulated.  For goodness sakes, she had a fit over The Banner publishing an article about Jared.” “What does that have to do with anything?” Bo asked. “It’s a … conflict of interests,” Charlie explained. “She was spouting some nonsense about media bias.” Nora snapped her fingers. “And that’s why she wanted to remain anonymous on the tip hotline.” Charlie couldn’t help his own observations. “I just wish someone had a tip about Jared.” “It’ll happen soon,” Bo assured him. “This whole chain of events has unraveled so fast….” Charlie nodded.  They sat in respectful silence for a moment. Viki changed the subject, hoping to ease Charlie’s mind again.  “You remember what Dorian said at her initial press conference?” “You mean when she hijacked the mic after Bo’s press conference?” Charlie clarified. Viki smirked. “She said, ‘I will never betray your trust … and I will always uphold your faith in American democracy.’ The sad thing is that she meant every word of that at the time.” “And then the LGLA knocked on your door instead of hers,” Charlie observed. Viki looked to Bo. She knew he understood what she was getting at. He nodded and muttered, “Easily manipulated.” “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Viki asked him. “Do you want to lock the election?” Bo answered. “I have a confession,” Nora smirked. She leaned forward as they looked at her. “I ordered a couple of wedding pictures I will never hang on my wall. I keep them tucked away just to remind myself of what an ass Dorian made of herself that day.” Viki was stunned. “You ordered wedding pictures of Dorian?” “Granted, at the time it was not cool,” Nora clarified, motioning with one hand, “But now when I look back I’m a little amused by it. First of all, she did it to herself. Second, imagine if she knew I had those pictures.” Bo was calm as he asked, “You weren’t thinking of feeding those pictures to the press?” Nora straightened her face into innocence and looked to each of them in turn. Her tone revealed that she was not sincere when she told them, “The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.” Viki couldn’t help but grin in amusement. Nora was entertaining. She elected to not respond one way or the other on the matter of the wedding pictures. Bo changed the subject again. “You know there’s something I never did get about that Ray Montez guy.”  He met the curious gazes of those around him. “He was in prison, he tried to take Langston from Dorian. I mean, Dorian was mad enough at the guy she was ready to do away with him even when she knew Clint was behind his coming here, and in a way, she could have even blamed him for her losing B.E. back to the family. Dorian married David just to get the Buchanan name back – you remember?” Nora and Viki shared a look. “How could we forget?” “You know – at least at the time – that was one of Dorian’s top priorities. She even went Buddhist over the whole thing.” “Yeah. Right,” Viki smirked. “But then,” Bo elaborated, “She’s going out on a date with Ray Montez? And after he leaves, does she get back with David? No. What the heck happened?” “She realized she was a lesbian,” Nora joked. “I don’t know,” Viki offered, “But if there is one thing I’ve learned over the years as far as Dorian is concerned, it is that if it doesn’t make sense, she’s probably up to something.” Viki looked over at Charlie, who seemed as concerned about what Dorian was up to as he did about Jared. That was wrong. She winked at him as she laced her fingers through his and squeezed his hand. Bo nodded. “Well, we have more important things to figure out than Dorian’s machinations at the moment. And we will,” he promised Charlie. Viki looked at Nora. She thought of asking her to leave the wedding pictures alone but decided to keep her attention on Charlie for the moment.

[1life2rock]

HAPPY JUNE 1 AKA HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO BO AND NORA!!!!! 

....geeky AF but I don’t care because this couple officially introduced me to the wonderful world of shippping, fanfiction, and the communities online of people really really loving things like I do. 

[1life2rock]

Literally on a HUGE bo and Nora kick right now. They are the breaking best

My Top 100 TV Ships

33. Nora Hanen & Bo Buchanan, One Life to Live

[livinginthepassed]

[all1e23]

Heart & Soul [Pt.10]

Chapter:  I'm Only Perfect Because of You

Summary:   Bucky has an important question for his Omega that will change their relationship forever.

Warnings:  Cursing as always. So much soft Bucky. Seriously, this is so soft.

A/N: ***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

There were few things in Bucky’s life that made him feel like he was worth anything at all, like he was whole and meant to do something good; meant for more than just being a nine to five alpha working till the day they put him in the ground. His family was a big part of that when they were still alive, taking care of Steve when they were younger (little punk never did know when to quit), helping others who couldn’t help themselves.

And, now, the sweet Omega in his arms.

Despite everything she has been through he could see the softness in her eyes, the hopeful heart she tried so desperately to hide and kindness she gave so easily. He didn’t deserve her, and he knew that. Sure, he was a decent enough Alpha. He goes out of his way to help others, gave more than he took, but he was also very aware of his shortcomings. There were so many things he would never be able to give her, he just didn’t have the means to do so and most likely never would.  

Sure, he wasn’t exactly poor. He made decent money, but New York was damn expensive. He would never be able to give her the life she really deserves but fuck if he wouldn’t spend every single one of his days making sure she knew just how much he loved her because he couldn’t live without her. He may not be able to buy her a five-million-dollar brownstone, but if she ever let him inside those well-built walls and into her heart, she wouldn’t spend another day questioning how deeply he needs her.

Because he does. He needs her more than he needs air to breathe and he’s not ashamed to admit just how quickly his world would fall apart if she wasn’t by his side.

“Why don’t I take you home, hm?” Bucky murmured against her hair.

The Alphas arms had been protectively wrapped around Y/n for going on thirty minutes now and he really wasn’t complaining. Shortly after telling her they found Pietro alive, she completely broke down from the everything that happened over the last two days and he wasn’t about to let go until she was okay, but they couldn’t exactly stay wrapped around each other in the middle of the kitchen at an Omega shelter. With everything happening and happening so fast, he needed to get her back home where he could keep an eye on her and know without a doubt, she was safe.

He was still an Alpha and she was his whether they were talking about it or not, he could only keep those Alpha instincts in check for so long.

“I can’t.” She whispered against his skin, her breath falling over his unmarked neck as she burrowed herself further into his arms.

Bucky couldn’t help the soft growl that emits from his chest. He didn’t like it. He couldn’t keep her safe in the middle of the shelter and he certainly couldn’t just follow her around as she worked. Not to mention the fact that he was dead on his feet; being awake for over twenty-four hours will do that to you. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself up and if she did need his help, he wasn’t in the best of shape to protect her.

“Please?” Bucky begged quietly. “I need you-- I’d like you to come home with me.”

Y/n slowly pulled back from his arms to look at him, catching the worry the in his eyes and finally being able to see just how tired he really was. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep while standing, but he was clearly torn about leaving her side.

It was breaking her heart to see him like that.

“James…I’m at work. I can’t lose my job.”

His arms tighten around her further and he shook his head.

“No one is going to fire you,” he stated simply.

“He’s right about that.” 

Both of their heads whip around to see her boss, Maria Hill, standing in the doorway with a smug knowing grin plastered on her face. “Go home, Y/n. I don’t need hundreds of cookies as much as I love your baking. Take the next few weeks off and I promise you will have a job when you come back.”

Y/n frowned as she turned to face her fully but making no move to leave the Alphas arms or step away from his embrace. 

“I can’t just-“

Maria held up her hand to silence whatever garbage excuse she was going to give her and she looked directly at Bucky. “Take her home Detective Barnes and it’s good to see you again. It’s been a while since you and that partner of yours have come around.”

“Yeah, it has. I’ve been a little-“ his eyes fell onto Y/n “-been a little busy. Sam has been pretty busy, taking up some of my slack. If you were wondering why he hasn’t been by.” 

Bucky grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes as she backed out of the kitchen. “Well, tell him there are plenty of Alphas that aren’t so busy.  I’m sure I can find several of those Alphas to come over and… open jars for me.” 

Bucky chuckled and looked back at Y/n. He brushed her hair out of her eyes and gave her waist a little squeeze, “Can we go home now darlin’?”

------

Y/n had refused to let Bucky do much of anything on the way home. He wanted to take the bus, but she knew if they did, he would be on high alert the entire time, keeping a protective arm around her and watchful eye on everyone on the bus.

Alphas.

Always looking for trouble.

Instead of the bus, Y/n grabbed them a cab and let him lean on her the entire ride back to his apartment. The driver spent the entire trip giving her a weird grin in the rearview mirror as if he knew something she didn’t know. It would have made her feel uneasy if he wasn’t close to seventy and hadn’t spent the entire drive talking about his beautiful Omega, Irene. She was the light of life, he had said.

That familiar bubble of jealousy started to work it’s way up until Bucky looked over at her with a fond, albeit sleepy smile and whispered, “You’re the light of my life, darlin’.”

Any defenses she had built up just flew right out the window with seven little words.

She was so gone for him.

By the time they made it to the apartment building, Y/n was so thankful to be out of the small space of that backseat. It was starting to become very… hot. Very hot indeed. 

Bucky had checked in with the front desk security and let them know that no one and he means no one was allowed to see Y/n or come up to his apartment without his permission first. He was also going to fax over pictures of approved visitors from the station. Y/n gave the poor young beta an apologetic smile and drug Bucky away from the desk and towards the elevator despite his complaints.

He was a bit overprotective at times. 

“How do you know Maria?” Y/n asked curiously.

She had been wondering what their relationship was since they shared that moment back at the shelter. It was strange that Bucky never mentioned being close with another Omega and okay, maybe she was a little jealous. Maria is beautiful after all and doesn’t have the same baggage as… some omegas do.

“She knew my sister. Helped Becca out when she was going through some stuff and was there when I couldn’t be.” He closed the front door behind them and glanced at Y/n with a sad smile tugging at his lips. 

“Bec would have liked you. The two of you would have caused me more trouble than I think I can handle though.” Y/n giggled and Bucky’s heart beats anew for the hundredth time since he met her. 

“Tony said-- I just want you to know that you can talk to me about her whenever you’re ready. We don’t talk much about you. It’s always about me.” 

Y/n wrinkled her nose at the thought. Relationships are a two-way street and lately, it’s been all about Y/n. Bucky could hear her guilt and he wanted to do or say whatever he had to in order to keep that awful sound out of his sweet omegas voice. 

“We can talk about Becca whenever you want, but maybe after I’ve slept? And, we talk about me all the time. Every time we talk about you, we talk about my whole world.”

Y/n was taken aback by his comment. How in the world could he think this highly of her? She was a mess that couldn’t even live a normal life. She couldn’t give him anything that he wanted, and she just couldn’t see what he saw in her. If he truly felt so strongly for her, he deserved to know the truth so he could decide for himself if she was even worth all this trouble. It wouldn’t take much for him to see that she was not as wonderful as he thought, and she had a feeling he was going to realize it right at this moment.

“I can’t have pups.” She blurted out, wincing at the rush of words she flew out of her mouth.

Bucky stopped mid-jacket removal and turned to look at his Omega. How did he not know this? Surely Tony would have said something to him or Wanda. Why the hell couldn’t she have pups? Deep down he knew the answer already and he was going to kill Brock if it was the last thing he did. He pulled his jacket off the rest of the way, leaving him in just his jeans and a black t-shirt.

If they weren’t going to have pups, he wanted to know what happened, because when he got a hold of Brock, he needed to know why he was ripping Brock’s throat out with his bare hands.  

“What did he do?” His voice was deadly low, and she could make out the tiniest hint of red burning around his eyes, threatening to take away the blue she’s fallen so in love with. Still, he was holding back so he didn’t scare her, and she could never express what that meant to her. Y/n stepped closer to him and shook her head, resting her hands on his chest to calm the rage that was flaring up around him. 

“Hit me a lot, but that’s not-- I didn’t mean that he did this to me because of that. It’s not impossible. It’s just-- I can’t give y-- give any Alpha pups because I simply can’t.” 

Y/n knew she wasn’t explaining this very well, but she didn’t know how to explain it. Medically she was okay. The doctors said there was a lot of scar tissue from repeated blows to the abdomen, it would be hard but not impossible to have pups. There was simply no way she could ever let her guard down enough to let that happen. Any alpha that ended up with her would be lucky enough to share her heats, but pups would never be something she would be able to give to anyone, and that included Bucky. 

“I’m sorry. I-- I thought you should know before... I can’t allow myself to have that with anyone.”

It wasn’t that she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let herself have pups. She was punishing herself. Bucky closed the distance between them and slid his hands up along her neck, cradling her face in his large hands so she was forced to look in his eyes. 

“You don’t think you deserve to have them?”

He needed to hear her say it as much as it would hurt for her to admit. He needed her to trust him or they didn’t stand a chance. Her eyes dropped away from his gaze and Bucky tutted gently, causing her to immediately look back up at him, the pang that she felt in her chest at disappointing him cut deep into her heart and she didn’t like it one bit. His thumb gently grazed over her cheekbone and she leaned into his touch. 

“Please don’t hide,” Bucky breathed. “You can hide from everyone else. Please don’t hide from me.”

Y/n took a deep breath to steady her voice, “No, I don’t think I deserve them. I stayed with him, I let him abuse me and if we had pups… what kind of mother would I be when I can’t take care of myself?”

“Oh, babygirl,” Bucky whispered sadly. “You’ve got no idea how good you really are, do you?”

Bucky let his hands drop from her face but didn’t move an inch. He stayed right there, letting her seek comfort in his warmth. “If you choose to have pups, I know for a fact you’re going to be an amazing mother. I just hope I am going to be around to see it.”

Y/n smiled sadly and dropped her gaze back to the floor. A beat of silence fell between them and Bucky took it as a sign to drop the conversation for now. He didn’t want to push her too much in one day and she’s already given so much of herself over the last twenty-four hours he couldn’t ask her to give anything more of herself tonight.

“Come on, doll.” He nodded his head towards his bed. “Let’s get you to bed. I think we both need some sleep.”

She moved towards his bed and looked back at Bucky tossing a blanket onto his tan leather couch-- or his bed as of late, but he was struggling to force himself to lay down. It was crazy and possessive and damn, did he know it, but he didn’t want to be that far away from her.  He didn’t want to sleep where he couldn’t feel her next to him, smell her scent on his skin-

A small hand slipped around his arm and gave him a gentle tug towards the bed and he found Y/n standing next to him, smiling brightly in only the way she can.

“Lay down with me?” She asked. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Bucky chuckled at her snark and let her pull him towards his bed, “If you’re sure. I don’t--“ He toes his shoes off at the foot of the bed and watched her as she crawled into bed. “If you change your mind kick my ass out of bed and I promise I’ll be gone in seconds.”

“I promise James.” 

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes as she shoved the blankets to the side, her nest was torn apart when she woke from her nightmare this morning and as much as she wanted to be curled up in her nest she wasn’t sure she would be able to sleep without nightmares haunting her, not unless Bucky was with her.

The nest could wait a day or so.

Bucky waited for her to get comfortable and situated before he took a deep breath himself and slipped into bed next to her. He made sure to keep enough space between them, so she didn’t have to touch him if she didn’t want to, but Gods did he hope she wanted to. He wanted this to be the moment, their moment he still needed to talk to her about something important before he could let himself fall asleep.

Bucky rolled onto his side to face her and she followed suit sensing there was something he wanted to say. He just hoped she didn’t punch him in the face. He knew how independent she was, she was her own person and he didn’t want to change anything about her, especially that. He loved how independent she was, he really did, but he needed her to be safe right now, and when it comes to those she loves she tended to not think about herself.

With all this talk of Brock and pups, they had to talk about this.

“Y/n, I know you don’t want some knothead Alpha telling you what to do but you can’t go to the hospital to see Pietro right now. You-- you can’t. It’s not safe. Brock could ask anyone, someone, you don’t know to come in and grab you. Criminals like him, when fear catches up to them, they do stupid shit to avoid jail and I can’t-- I can’t lose you. I can’t watch--“ 

Bucky couldn’t even say it. He couldn’t make himself say what was haunting him, I can’t watch you die, too.

“Just promise me you won’t go until all this is worked out. I know he’s important to you and I can get Steve to do that FaceTime video call shit, but I really need you-- I just need you. I need you safe and if this makes you hate me, I can live with that if it means you’re o--“ She pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him.

“James, I won’t go to the hospital,” Yn states firmly. “You don’t have to worry about losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gods, did he want to kiss her fingertips so badly.

Her fingers were gone from his lips before he had a chance to decide if he should and he felt the loss deep in his bones.

That loss was felt just as deeply by her whether he knew it or not.  She wasn’t sure if he could feel her distress through this… bond they seemed to share but pulling away from him sent an ache all the way into the deepest parts of her and she hated the empty way it made her feel. Y/n let her hand drop next to his in-between them, no touching but if either of them stretched their fingers out they would be tangled in the others.

“Go to sleep,” Y/n whispered softly. “I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

------

The low hum of the radio roused her from the deep sleep Y/n was surprised she had fallen into. At some point, while she was keeping watch over Bucky, she must have fallen asleep herself. There were a few distance thuds and clangs coming from the kitchen and she suddenly realized the spot next to her had become cold and empty. It wasn’t like that when she went to sleep, and she really didn’t like waking up without the warmth the Alpha brings to her. She stretched and slowly sat up in Bucky’s bed only to find him standing in front of the stove, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt and a dishrag tossed over his left shoulder.

Y/n swore her heart stopped, that or he just triggered her heat. If he was going to walk around like that no amount of suppressants in the world could keep her heat from coming, despite what the package or Tony says.

Bucky had yet to notice she was awake, so she took these few moments as her chance to watch him move gracefully around the small galley kitchen. She wasn’t sure what he was even doing at first. It was after midnight and she had no idea what he could possibly need from the kitchen at nearly one in the morning. Her eyes followed him as he moved from the fridge, back to the cabinets, and then the stove, gathering items in his arms as he made his way around. It wasn’t until the smell hit her that the realization of it all hit her.

He was making her dinner.

If other Alphas could witness this huge, brawny Alpha making her… spaghetti? She wondered what they would all have to say about this. Y/n couldn’t imagine Bucky caring. It must have been something he could feel, a connection to her because Bucky glanced over to the bed and grinned at the sight of her awake,  his smile practically lit up the entire apartment and she couldn’t help but shine right back at him. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” He glanced back at the stove. “I, uh, I made dinner. It’s not as good as what you made, but we didn’t have much, and I didn’t want to leave you.” 

 What he really meant  but couldn't say, I didn’t want you to wake up alone again. 

Y/n slowly climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen, positively beaming. There wasn’t a better way to wake up in her opinion.

“It smells really good if that counts.”

Bucky smirked and looked down at her attire. How the hell had he missed she was wearing his shirt? Fuck, did it do something to him to see her in his clothes. It was like a giant neon sign that said she belonged him and shit, did he like that. It only made him the urge to claim her that much louder. He reached out and tugged on the red Henley she was still wearing over her leggings.

 “I like you in my clothes,” He growled softly sending a shiver all the way to her toes.

“Well, looks like you’re not using them.” She quipped as she nodded towards his bare chest.

He dropped his gaze down and broke down into a fit of laughter. He wasn’t used to her being so snarky, he knew she had her own thoughts and had her own opinions, but she kept them so guarded that he rarely got to see this side of her. He’s quickly learning that given the freedom, safety, and love she’s snarky as hell and pretty fuckin’ funny.

“Gods…” He shook his head as he got his laughter under control, he set the spoon on the stove and tossed the rag onto the counter, stepping towards her and backing her into the kitchen island. He dipped his head down so the tips of their noses were brushing together. He had to do this now before something came along and got in their way again because it was very clear The Gods weren’t going to make the path to his omega an easy one.

And, he had promised himself he was going all in.

“Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” He asked softly, smiling at the way her eyes widen.

He doesn’t back away though. He hopes--he knows she feels safe enough with him to push him away if she really doesn’t want this if she really doesn’t want him.

“You- do you mean like a date?”

She was breathless just at the thought so that was a good sign at least. Nothing left to do but leap.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m crazy about you. I’ve been gone since the second I caught your scent and sight of this little star tattoo behind your ear.” He ran his index finger over the red ink on her skin, pulling back only enough to meet her gaze. 

“So, whaddya say, doll? Go on a date with me?” 

To her surprise, her entire body was screaming yes- loudly. There was only a small whisper in the back of her head telling her this would be a mistake. There was a chance this could be a huge mistake, but if she was ever going to take a chance on another Alpha the only one she wanted to take a chance on was Bucky.

“Okay, James.”

Easiest decision she’s ever made.

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