#brooklyn this week for our sake

[sophfandoms53]

At the end of the day Brooklyn is still racist barbie’s friend and that’s enough reason for why she’s gotta go let’s not forget !

[kozumesphone]

hi hi hi can i please get a percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite reader?? basically she’s all about the love part of Aphrodite and she’s talking about it constantly and he’s her friend and kinda realises like oh wait i’m in love w her

does that make sense?? also can i get a moodboard w it?? <33

thank you and ily!

masterlist

💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ BROOKLYN BABY .ᐟ

⤷ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅

ᝰ. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 . . . percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 . . . y/n constantly yaps about the idea of love to her best friend, percy, and he realises he has feelings for her. (annie’s y/n’s close friend too! i’m too nice to make her an angry b </3) also!! y/n has brown eyes solely bc brown eyes are pretty asf and not talked about enough <3 + ft. best friends to lovers, minor gods dissing (like one time), y/n reading the cruel prince (not directly mentioned), percy having an ‘uh oh, i’m in love’ moment, and a book bouquet. p.s. moodboard at the end!

ᝰ. 𝐤𝐞𝐲 . . . y/n: your name | y/l/n: your last name | n/n: nickname

ᝰ. 𝐰𝐜 . . . 1.4k

ᝰ. 𝐚/𝐧 . . . hdkwjdkw 1/8 asks complete lmao. this req was so cute!! I love reading the ‘moment of realisation’ dialogues in books, but it was especially fun to write it for the first time. it was a little weird to write only bc i’m a cabin 3 kid irl but it’s okay 😭 for the sake of a fluffy fic, I powered through, guys <3

2 years ago . . .

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“some kid killed a minotaur!” a hermes cabin demigod yelled from near the dining pavilion. glancing up from our glasses of soda, annabeth and I turned towards the voice. “he’s a new one!”

we looked at each other, wondering which god couldn’t keep it in their pants again.

suddenly, a few apollo kids ran out from the infirmary towards the arch near thalia’s tree.

“the new kid’s probably clumsy,” annabeth said.

“he killed a minotaur,” I shot back.

“hey, you can be dumb and strong at the same time.”

“uh huh. whose child do you think he is? I bet it’s one of the big three.” I said.

“no way, they have a pact, remember-”

“do you really think they actually follow that, annie?” I snickered at her.

in a while, an unconscious boy about their age was carried into the infirmary. I only caught sight of his black hair, and dishevelled and bloody look. I decided to visit him the next day to check up on his condition.

the rest of the day was spent reading in my cabin, while my sisters tried new makeup products on our brother, which was quite funny, really.

throughout the next week, I left the warmth of my bed to visit the new kid—percy jackson—in the infirmary. he had begun to regain consciousness.

“who are you?” he asked, sharply inhaling a breath.

“oh, hey,” I smiled at him. “i’m y/n y/l/n. daughter of aphrodite.”

“right. daughter of aphrodite. a goddess,” he repeated slowly.

I realised that no one had explained about camp half-blood to him yet, and took that job upon myself after calling out for will and letting him know that his patient was awake.

“so, there’s gods and goddesses. and monsters. and everything in the greek myths you were taught? they’re all real. at camp half-blood, we’re all demigods—the children of a god or goddess and a mortal.” I continued to explain to him how the demigod world worked, remembering to talk about the mist, the gods, the cabins, and everything else.

I expected him to not believe me, and call me names (like the other new campers) for lying, but he took it like a champ. he nodded at me, sitting up properly, and asked for something so his arm would stop paining. I immediately got will to help him.

the next week, when I was out by the beach, reading my romance novel about a mortal girl and a faerie prince falling in love after being enemies, I heard sand shifting around behind me.

“who-” I turned around.

“hey, y/n, right?” percy asked, walking closer.

“ah, you remember,” I said, a smile growing on my face.

“well, yeah. you’re really just the only person who has spoken to me normally… and not like I was some intimidating and scary… thing,” he said, running his hands through his already dishevelled hair.

“come, sit down.” I patted the sand beside me. he took his place there, sitting down with his legs criss-crossed.

“what are you reading?” he asked.

I explained to him the plot, setting, characters, and everything about the book I was reading for the next few hours.

we sat there till dusk, watching the sun set into pretty hues of pink, purple, and orange.

“it’s so pretty, isn’t it?” I asked.

✮⋆˙ percy’s pov

“yeah, it is.” I replied to her, eyes fixed on her side profile.

wow. she’s so beautiful.

timeskip: present

“perce!” y/n called loudly, running towards me.

“heyyyy! n/n, you’re back! how was the quest? did you get hurt or anything?” I asked, hugging her, and then moving back to scan her for injuries.

“i’m fine, perce, all good. I got will to check me out and he cleared me,” she said, grinning. her face was swiped with dirt and grime, but she still looked like she was an ethereal princess who walked out of one of her books. “what? have I got a lot of dirt on my face?”

“nah, you’re cool. ‘s pretty.” I said, and she laughed—my favourite sound in the entire world. “and anyway, you need to change out of these clothes and meet me outside your cabin. I have something for you.”

“what is it?”

“that’s a surprise-”

“I hate surprises.”

“you’ll like this one,” I winked at her, as she laughed again.

timeskip

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

I changed into casual loose sweatpants and a shirt since it was summer.

ah, summer. one of most romantic seasons ever. the breeze whipping around a girl’s hair, as a boy runs towards her with flowers. the sunlight falling onto their faces as they share a kiss. watching the sun set in pretty shades everyday with each other. that was summer.

everything about it reminded me of percy. watching sunsets, seeing the sunlight fall on his face after he gets out of the water. the flowers, now dry, that he gifted me for every special occasion.

it was hard to admit that I liked him more than I would like any friend. i’d never picked up any hints from him, that might’ve signalled that he liked me, no matter how many of my siblings told me he did.

all friends hold hands, right? and all good friends wish each other a good morning and good night everyday. what was so special? the flowers?

“hey, n/n!” percy’s voice dragged me out of my thoughts. he was dressed in loose shorts and a hawaii button up, and my gods, he looked so gorgeous.

“perce! at least tell me where we’re going now,” I groaned.

“nuh-uh. a surprise is a surprise.” he brought out a blindfold and handed it to me. I raised my eyebrow at him. “put it on. i’ll take you there.”

“I swear to gods, if this turns out to be a prank-”

“shh, it won’t. now put it on,” he promised.

I walked closer to him and put on the blindfold, and he turned me around a few times to make sure I wouldn’t figure out where we’re going. I scoffed at his childish actions.

as he was standing behind me, I felt his warmth on my back. he took my arms at my side and urged me to walk ahead.

he manoeuvred me in different directions and finally stopped after a while.

“you ready, princess?” he asked. the nickname did something to cause butterflies in my stomach.

“yeah,” I whispered.

he took off the blindfold, and it was too bright for a second. I shielded my eyes and groaned, before letting them adjust to the harsh sunlight.

I looked around and saw a huge, fluffy blanket laid down on the grass of the fields. a basket with food was set in one corner and a bouquet in the centre.

specifically, a book bouquet.

“PERCY, HOW DID YO-”

“surprise,” he grinned, as I turned around and hugged him. he’d always given me gifts when I returned from quests, but this was, by far, the best.

“how’d you know all my favourites?” I asked, looking at the 10 romance novels on the blanket.

“oh, annie helped,” he said enthusiastically. “should we sit down and start eating? you can tell me all about the people in your books, and why you like romance books especially, yeah?”

smiling, we sat down on the blankets, and ate away with no care in the world.

✮⋆˙ percy’s pov

as she talked about her books for the next few hours, I could only think about how beautiful her brown eyes were, especially when the sunlight hit them at the correct angle. how soft her lips looked as her mouth moved at a faster pace than her thoughts. how perfect her cheeks were, smiling wide. how amazing she was. how smart and beautiful she was.

when did my feelings of friendship turn into love, for her?

as she continued to speak of the love between her favourite characters, I noticed her longing for a similar love. I could give that to her, couldn’t I?

wait. what? what am I even thinking? y/n’s my best friend.

“love is everywhere, in every gesture, every glance. it’s the thread that binds us together, connecting hearts across time and space,” she said.

and at that moment, I knew I was done for.

I was hopelessly in love with my best friend.

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite — the love like in her books <3

taglist — @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby @sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @totokyo @urbanflorals @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr @pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @mershellscape @riordanness @starlitszn @metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor @iheartgirlzn

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Four.

Apologies for missing last week's update, guys! Thanks as ever for your continued support. You are all beautiful people :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,595

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Monsters of Rock, Moscow, 1991. It had been one of the largest ever live music festivals to date, with a staggering estimated 1.6 million rock fans descending on the Tushino airfield in Moscow. The year two thousand and sixteen heralded its return, but with a slightly smaller audience.  

This time around, the organisers were arranging a push of eight hundred thousand tickets, all of which had virtually sold out by April, the performance due to take place on July seventeenth. Bands such as Motionless in White, Queens of the Stone Age, Lamb of God, Machine Head, Slipknot, Korn, Sepultura and Marilyn Manson had been signed on to perform on the day. 

The headliners? Seventh Gate. 

For one Sunni Balakrishnan, this meant stress. A lot of it.  

“Right, before we start filling our faces, let’s get down to the details, ladies,” their powerhouse tour manager spoke, sitting with the five in a restaurant in the SoHo area of Manhattan. “Now, we all know that Russia is a volatile climate to play in. We’ve toured there before, but Monsters of Rock is an entirely different animal. There’ll be no contracted security for a start. The entire event will be overseen by the police and Russian miliary, and I am saying this to you all now, and fucking clearly. There will be no fucking around and finding out.  

“They will likely get heavy with the fans, baton use, pepper spray. If you see it, you will not intervene, or you will be arrested. Katie I am specifically looking right at you here,” he spoke, pointing a finger at the guitarist. She didn’t even bother trying to look innocent, her grin spreading devilishly. “There will be none of you opening a can of Brooklyn whoop ass. None. You will be clubbed; you will be cuffed, and you will be thrown into a cell I likely won’t be able to negotiate you being released from.  

“Jade, you will spout absolutely no propaganda, feminist, religious or otherwise while you are on that fucking stage, or you will be arrested. You cannot play Holy War, Kill your Masters, Fallen God, Temple of the Whore or Rise Up. You will be arrested.” 

“What the fuck?” Jade spluttered, Sunni begging to gesture with his hand wildly, eyes almost out on stalks. 

“You bloody, bloody, bloody won’t do it! It’ll be seen as defiance, or incitement, and Russia do not mess around there!” And people said Jade could be wound tighter than a watch spring when under duress.  

“But we near enough always close our set with Kill your Masters! It’s one of our most famous songs!” 

“Yes, because it’s basically one long battle cry against oppressors, of which the Russian fucking government very much are! For fucks sake, the music video alone showed you personally beheading an overload, holding up said severed head and instructing thousands of enslaved people to break their chains and do the same! Shall we talk about how many countries it was banned in?” 

Jen couldn’t help herself, snickering into her hand. “Sunni, that vein in your head is popping hard, homeslice.” 

“Jennifer, I feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack and we haven’t even landed on Russian soil yet!” The wild gesturing continued; his arm flung around as he pointed at all of them. “Trying to manage you lot is like attempting to herd wild lions! Please, just work with me and bloody behave yourselves!”  

“I don’t enjoy being censored,” Jade muttered, Sunni’s eyes fixing upon her sharply. 

The finger was pointed, waving, his brow beading with sweat. “You. Will. Not. Do. It. I am not even going to risk it, because you know Russia doesn’t play. As I have plainly stated, if you fuck around, you will find out. There will be no provocations, no lewd gestures, no inciting of riots, and for the love of god will you please tell me that Adrien will be accompanying you, because if there’s one man you’ll behave for, it’s your husband!”  

Her smirk had the girls falling into mild fits. “Not all of the time.” Oh, their poor, dear Sunni. He honestly looked like he was about to birth his own spleen out of sheer stress. “Yes, Adrien is coming with me. He’ll be there for the other five festival dates, too.”  

With no album release that year, their only touring obligations were to six open air shows, one in the UK, two in Germany, one in Sweden and one in France all prior to Monsters of Rock. It was shaping up to be a nice, sedate year. Both she and Adrien had little in the way of work, deciding to take a very well-earned break from filming commitments, the latter only just home again after leaving her almost straight after the Oscars for a month-long stint in Bulgaria, shooting his only movie that year. 

As it would turn out, both would discover that the timing of their break was orchestrated quite perfectly.  

After eating, Jade used the restroom, ready to head back to their apartment, Jen already having to leave on account of her and Nick getting ready to take a two-week vacation back to Scotland to visit with his family, Jess out the door rapidly to meet up with her new boyfriend, leaving just her, Katie and Charlotte after Sunni had also departed.   

“I need a favour from one of you,” she spoke, sitting back down at the table, her girls looking at her with curiosity. “Can one of you head into the drugstore down the street and buy me a pregnancy test, please? Obviously, I don’t want even a sniff of this leaking to the press or general public, and if I get pictured buying it, it’ll be all over the fucking media before I’ve even had chance to piss on the damned thing.”  

The faces before her lit up, Charlotte gently flapping her hands in exclamation. “Oh my god, yes! Do you really think you might be, then?” 

Sipping her sparkling water, she nodded. “My period is now nine days late, and that never happens with me, as you both know.”  

Katie squeaked quietly, bouncing in her seat. “You are. I can feel it.” Turning then to her wife (she and Charlotte had finally gotten hitched two years before on their eighteenth anniversary) her eyes widened. “We’re gonna be aunties!”  

“Shhh, walls have ears!” Jade shushed her with gently, putting her arms around her and kissing her cheek. “But yes, I think you might be.” With one clandestine rush to the drugstore four blocks away, Charlotte reached beneath the table to slip the paper bag containing the rest into Jade’s hand with a wink, the latter tucking it into her large, slouchy boho style leather bag before getting up to hug them both warmly before leaving, deciding to take the twenty-minute walk back to her apartment rather than jump in a cab.  

On the way back, she collected a loaf of fresh sourdough from the local artisan baker, an armful of flowers and some tomatoes she intended to snack on with the large ball of fresh mozzarella in the fridge for lunch, a bunch of basil purchased, too. All the way home, the test seemed to burn in her bag, her excitement reaching overload by the time she stepped foot in her apartment.  

“Bug, where are you?” she called, Adrien appearing from the kitchen and pointing to the phone in his hand, moving to give her a quick kiss before absconding again, taking the bags from her with a smile and a wink. She quickly steered herself in there to fill four vases with water, leaving him to it and arranging the flowers she’d bought. The calla lilies went on the table in the hallway, the roses and stargazer lilies on the coffee table, and the peonies into the remaining two vases at opposite ends of the lounge.  

Once done, she grabbed the test, heading down to the bathroom. While she knew that for accuracy, it was best to take a it in the morning, she’d asked Charlotte to buy two. The waiting would likely kill her, so one would be taken right away and the other in the morning to be certain. One quick pee onto a stick later and she was pacing a circle, her heart thundering as she waited the required time. Was this it? Had it happened for them? Reaching for the test, she saw the definite answer right there on the display. 

Pregnant. 

Clasping her hands over her mouth, the test was dropped into the sink with a small clatter, Jade jumping up and down as she squealed quietly. She had to be quiet, as on her way home she’d thought of the most adorable way to tell her husband if she did happen to get a positive result, wrapping the rest in a heap of tissue and stuffing it into the bin before hiding the second one.  

Come 7am the following morning, the display read the same again. She was elated.  

And so began her little plan to tell Adrien, calling up Amazon on her phone and ordering exactly what she needed in order to let him know he was doing to be a daddy in just over eight months' time. It wouldn’t arrive until the following day, and it almost killed her to keep the news a secret. The poor Amazon delivery guy almost had his arm ripped off in her haste to grab the package with thanks, shutting the door and scurrying into the kitchen, opening the boxes to pull out the gift as well as the sheet of wrapping paper she packaged it in. 

Walking into the lounge, she placed her phone against one of the vases of flowers, already recording so that they had the moment he found out immortalised forever. “Honey, here. A little gift,” she spoke, handing it to him where he sat in the corner armchair, placing down the book he’d been reading. 

His face was a picture of curious as he took it from her. “Thanks, Moo. What is it?” 

“Open it and find out, silly!”  

Tearing the paper with a smile, he wondered what on earth occupied the small, rainbow paper wrapped square, pulling out a tiny t shirt and reading the slogan printed across the front. His heart all but jolted into his throat. ‘If you think I’m cute, you should see my dad.’ 

“You’re fucking kidding,” he spoke, his face stunned as his eyes began to well up. “Really? You really are?” 

“Yep,” she grinned, watching him shake his head. 

“I’m gonna be a dad?” 

“You are, baby.” 

“Oh my god.” Placing the t shirt down, they were both in tears as he stood to lift her into his arms, hugging her tightly. “Oh my god!” Happy laughter filled the space, Jade wrapping her legs around him as they hugged, kissed and cried, stroking his face, her heart bursting. “I’m so happy, and stunned, and shit, if that wasn’t the cutest way you could have told me!” 

“I’ve been bloody bursting for the last day and a half! I found out when I came back from the band meeting, but I wanted to be sure, so took another test yesterday morning but then had to wait until today for the t shirt to be delivered!” 

His eyes widened a little. “Shit, that’s some restraint right there, not caving in the meantime. Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”  

Placing her back down, he gave her another kiss, Jade racing to retrieve her phone, explaining she’d recorded it. He thought that was just as lovely, too. “I really don’t know how the hell I didn’t crack, or that you didn’t notice that the alleged Jack Daniel’s I drank yesterday was actually iced tea! I had to bloody think fast, there!” 

Sitting back down in the armchair, he pulled her onto his lap with a look of comic trepidation. “Oh god, you without alcohol for the next nine months. I’m scared.”  

Barking a laugh, she stroked his chest, resting her cheek against his head. “I hereby promise to try not to be living hell.” She thought a little longer. “Oh fuck, I can’t have coffee either! I’m going to be resigned to shitting decaf!” 

“Okay, I’m moving out for the duration. I’ll stay here, you go back upstate,” he joked, guffawing at the narrowed eyes he received. She then looked thoughtful for a few moments, hand still idling circling over the centre of his chest. 

“I have to bring my performance A game while being just over four months’ pregnant. That’ll be interesting,” she mused, Adrien nodding.  

“You still going ahead with that, then?” 

“Gotta do it, innit? We’re contracted in, and as long as I’m completely healthy still, it shouldn’t be a problem. My life can’t just stand still because I’m pregnant, but seriously, how well did we time this break we’re taking from work?” 

“Perfectly. I have psychic sperm, evidently.”  

His words had her in soft fits, hauling herself up to go and prepare some lunch while he went back to his book. He didn’t remain long. 

“Excuse me, Mr. B,” she spoke, Adrien wrapping his arms around her as she sliced tomatoes. “You are hampering my making of salad caprese.”  

His hands moved to her tummy, stroking it lovingly. “There’s a baby in here.”  

Oh, he was so adorable. “It’s probably only about the size of a peanut right now, Bug,” she spoke, finishing her slicing, slapping his hand when he stole a piece. “No stealing! She needs to be marinated!” 

He shrugged. “To use a Jade-ism, calm your tits.” he was elbowed away, but it didn’t keep him from once again wrapping her in his arms. “And I don’t care how big it is, it’s my peanut. I’m fucking thrilled. God, my ma is gonna howl. Full on ugly cry when we tell her. And yours will probably deafen us. You definitely get your volume from her.” He paused then, Jade feeling him shaking with laughter. “What if this child inherits their mother’s lungs? Oh man, we’re screwed.” 

“You, you,” she began, turning to wave her finger at him. “You’re just adamant to piss me off today, aren’t you? Fucking wanker.” 

“But I’m not wrong,” he chuckled, his abs hurting from her spluttered reaction. 

Her lips tightened, softly kicking his leg. “Get the fuck out of my kitchen!”   

“No, I have things to ask you,” he spoke, batting away her foot, “like when are we gonna tell people? Twelve-week scan, is that when they say you should?” 

“Hmm, well since Charlotte and Katie know of what my suspicions were – it was Charlotte who went to buy the test for me, save I be photographed – we might have to tell them and swear them to secrecy.” She then looked conflicted. “But that means leaving Jen and Jess out, and I don’t feel comfortable about that. Then if we tell them, of course I want to tell our parents. Aw, hell. I think we should wait, though. Not to jinx anything, but when I’ve been pregnant before and sadly lost it, I want to double make sure that everything is okay this time around.”  

He hadn’t even thought of that, his features softening as he reached to stroke her cheek. “I think Jen will understand, given the circumstances. Same as everybody else. And try not to think about what happened before, even though I know you will. Doesn’t mean it’ll happen this time, does it?” 

It didn’t, but just as he predicted, it was on her mind right up until the moment the sonographer told them everything was fine twelve weeks on from them, both overjoyed to see the small smudge that was their first child and hear its rapid heartbeat for the first time. Armed with a few of the sonogram pictures, they then put the cute idea on how to reveal it to their mothers into action, heading over to Queens first... 

Lois was in the middle of wiping down her kitchen when she heard her doorbell buzz, the dogs doing their usual routine of dancing and barking. “Move it, boys, lounge!” she spoke, Ginsberg and Bukowski scampering off at speed, poking their heads up at the front window. Opening the door, she was puzzled for a few seconds to see nobody there, until her attention was caught by a large bouquet of sunflowers, her favourite blooms sitting there on the step.  

“Open this before you go into the house.” she read aloud, pulling the card from the little holder and opening up the small envelope. Reading what was inside, coupled with a sonograph picture, her jaw practically unhinged.  

‘Congratulations on becoming a grandma!’ 

“Mother of pearl! Oh, my goodness!” she cried, her eyes then caught by her son and daughter-in-law popping up from behind her car where they’d been hiding. “Are you fucking serious, Adrien Nicholas Brody? Doing this to me on the doorstep!!” 

They doubled over with laughter, making their way up to the house, a very tearful Lois pulling them both into a hug. “I am thrilled for you both! Oh my god, this is wonderful. Wonderful!” she exclaimed, kissing their cheeks in turn as she continued to shed a storm of happy tears, ushering them both inside. Patrick was home, too, and of course had some unique words upon hearing he was going to be a grandfather. 

“Well, this is exceptional news. It’s been six years; I was almost certain you were firing blanks.” Adrien was about to admonish him for such, but couldn’t, seeing his dad swiftly remove his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes welled. “I’m so damned happy for you, son.” Pulling him into a huge hug, he kissed his cheek, clapping his hand upon his back a few times. “It’ll be the best thing you ever do. Trust me on that, because it was for me.”  

Those tender words from his father had him choked up, Adrien kissing his forehead fondly. They spent a little time there at the house before jumping into a cab and heading to Harlem, phase two of their plan put into action. As a chronic hay fever sufferer, the only flowers allowed within Gemma’s home were of the faux variety, Jade having the perfect idea how to surprise her after visiting a small giftshop.  

Opening the door to her brownstone, Gemma was confused at the sight of a pile of helium balloons there in a little arrangement, a note affixed to one of them that instructed, ‘pop me before you go back into the house.’ There was a pin sellotaped to the note that she carefully unpicked, bemusedly doing at instructed. It sprayed confetti everywhere, as well as a little card that had been carefully placed into the balloon prior to it being filled, with the same message as the one that had greeted Lois. 

“I’m... oh!!” Instantly she began to cry, her eyes scanning the immediate surroundings of the frontage of her home. “Jade Lucia!” she boomed, clasping her hands over her mouth for a moment, “come out from wherever the hell you’re hiding!”  

Up she and Adrien popped from behind the wall at the front of the house, ready for round two of the joy they felt at finally being able to share the news with their parents. “Get up here right now and let me hug you both! Oh my god, I am shocked to my bloody bones, buba!” Gemma’s joy in life were her grandchildren, and now she had a third on the way, she couldn’t have been happier. As was Steven, who luckily wasn’t on shift. Yes, Jade had checked in a clandestine way earlier in the week after phoning her mother.  

“Well, would you look at that?” he spoke, holding the sonograph picture, his other arms wrapped around his daughter as he laid a kiss upon her head. “First you get the little gold fella, and now a little baby. I’m absolutely thrilled for you, monkey.” 

They stayed for dinner there before heading back to their apartment, content to curl up on the couch and watch a film before going to bed. The next day, Jade visited both Jen and Jess to tell them her news, calling her brother and sister too before they boarded a flight home. With a few more close friends told later that day, as well as their management teams to field off the likely incoming median questioning reaching out for comment when Jade inevitably began showing, they’d told everyone they were ever going to.  

There would be no “official” announcement made, the pair not the kind of people to make statements about their private life in such a way. Their baby was their business, and they loved every second of their journey into parenthood.  

“Baby, quick. Come see this,” Jade called softly, Adrien entering the lounge to a heartwarming sight. Usually, Juno would only curl up with him, very much his cat, but on that evening, the big puddle of pale grey fur was lying contentedly with his wife, her paws softly kneading against the tiny swell of her tummy. “She knows! Look at her!”  

Crouching by her knees, his smile crinkled his eyes, rubbing Juno’s head. The cat purred and drooled, her tail swishing contently, continuing her kneading. They weren’t the only ones excited that in just over six months, there’d be a brand-new member of the family arriving, it seemed.  

[quietblueriver]

That Lilith Voice Inside My Head

Avatrice Week Day 2: Injury/Sick

Beatrice isn’t quite sure what she’s doing, standing outside of Ava’s apartment at 2pm on a Tuesday. Well. She knows what she’s doing, but she’s not certain why. 

You know exactly why, Beatrice. For six months now, you have been engaging in the most protracted and gauche courtship ritual I have ever had the misfortune to witness. One or both of you needs to either do something about it or resign in shame. For everyone’s sake.

Disconcertingly, it’s Lilith’s voice that she hears. She’s not certain what that says about the state of her conscience but she doubts it’s anything very good. She shifts the brown paper bag in her arms slightly and retrieves her phone from her pocket to make sure she has the correct address. She does. She did the last three times she checked as well. If she doesn’t make a decision soon, she’ll be bringing Ava cold soup. 

She straightens her back, pockets her phone again, and stares at the door. Right. This is ridiculous. Ava is a friend. Ava is a friend who isn’t feeling well. Beatrice is bringing her friend, Ava, pho from the place where they often eat lunch together, because she knows Ava’s order, because they are friends. 

Say friend one more time, Beatrice. You are aware that our clients pay you to use language effectively? That you allegedly graduated magna cum laude from a passable law school?

“You’ve seen the diploma. And that’s not how most people refer to Harvard, Lilith.” 

Middling, then. It’s certainly no Yale.

Beatrice opens her mouth to answer, but snaps it closed as a woman approaches and passes on her right. Beatrice takes stock of the situation. She’s a grown woman. She’s an objectively accomplished grown woman. She’s an objectively accomplished grown woman engaging in a very petty argument with herself on the street in front of a brownstone in Brooklyn while holding a bag of rapidly cooling soup. 

Depressing, isn’t it?

It’s enough. Her inner Lilith isn’t wrong. Although she has a history of being entirely oblivious when women are pursuing her, she has never been this hesitant about pursuing someone else. Well, since she got away from her family and their ghosts, anyway. She likes Ava, in more than a passing way, and she has wanted to be careful. But she can acknowledge that there’s careful and then there’s avoidance so extreme it results in a part of your subconscious taking the form of your harshest, oldest, and most honest friend. She needs to do something.

She takes a deep breath and hits the button for Ava’s apartment. Ava buzzes Beatrice up without even asking who it is, the door clicking open immediately, and Beatrice makes a note to discuss the importance of basic safety practices as she hoists the bag a little higher and climbs the stairs to the third floor.

Ava must be waiting by the door because it’s open essentially the moment Beatrice’s fist makes contact. 

“Hi, Bea.” 

She’s smiling at Beatrice like she’s exactly who Ava had been hoping for, and Beatrice feels suddenly incoherent, moving her face into something that she hopes very much at least approximates a smile. Ava is wearing blue sweat pants and a tank top, a green robe with sloths engaging in various sloth-appropriate activities closed loosely around her waist. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, and she looks a little bleary from sleep and sickness. Beatrice has never seen her like this. She is…adorable. 

Beatrice swallows, opens her mouth to say hello, instead says, “I could have been a murderer.” 

My god. Did you learn to flirt from a true crime thread on Reddit?

Beatrice’s shame burns through her; her face is on fire, her stomach a pit of self-loathing. She lifts the bag and says, “I brought you soup.” She is irrationally proud of herself for that recovery. 

That is not what I would call a recovery but the bar here is obviously in hell, so well done, I suppose.

Ava blinks at her, clearly not expecting Beatrice to forgo a hello in favor of a violent hypothetical. That is, Beatrice thinks, reasonable. She grimaces and then Ava is laughing, “Camila told me you were coming. I promise I don’t usually buzz people up without checking.” Beatrice briefly considers calling Camila later to discuss the apparent immediate chain of information from her to Ava and to request that Beatrice be consulted before information is passed through it. She dismisses the idea. She has no doubt that the conversation would end with Camila nodding very solemnly and proceeding to change absolutely nothing at all about her behavior. 

Ava is still smiling at Beatrice. Beatrice feels this is incredibly generous of her. “Thank you. Come in?”

She pulls the door open wider and Beatrice steps inside, walks the bag toward the the kitchen counter where Ava points. Ava is behind her, moving toward the island, and she puts one hand on the small of Bea’s back to guide her, moving it to Beatrice’s bicep and squeezing gently when she passes. Beatrice nearly destroys the bag, somewhat miraculously manages to get it safely to the counter.

Ava falls into one of the chairs at the island separating her kitchen from the living room and kicks gently at another, which Beatrice prays is an invitation to sit. She takes the hand that Ava places on her knee when she settles in the chair as confirmation. Beatrice expects a brief touch. Instead, Ava’s hand stays. Beatrice is still staring at it when Ava starts speaking, blinks up at the sound. 

“Full disclosure, I did watch you stand outside for minimum eight minutes before buzzing my apartment. It looked at one point like you were talking to yourself?” 

Ava is smirking, hand still warm on Beatrice’s leg. 

“I was. Well, I was also talking to Lilith, but the Lilith inside of my head.” Beatrice pauses, sighs. “Please disregard that.” 

“No can do. I’ll absolutely be returning to that later, because so many questions, but for now, I’m more interested in why you stood outside my house for so long being all frowny and cute.” 

She moves her leg out slightly to press against Beatrice’s. Beatrice can feel the soft cotton of her sweatpants on the small strip of skin between the hem of her pants and her brogues, the warmth of her up to her calf. 

Ava is flirting with her. Beatrice should not be surprised. At this point, only the most conservative and risk-averse part of herself can still posit the theory that Ava may not be interested. Beatrice can be oblivious, but every single one of their mutual friends has expressed to her privately that she’s an idiot for not having done something about this sooner. They’ve also stopped being particularly subtle in shared spaces. Two weeks ago, during board game night, Camila poked Lilith quite aggressively in the ribs when she handed Beatrice a pink figurine to marry in The Game of Life with a droll, “Look, it’s Ava.” While Mary was busy choking on her beer in laughter, Ava had locked eyes with Beatrice and said, in her incredibly earnest way, “Lucky woman, whoever it is.” 

So Beatrice should not be surprised. Unfortunately, the conservative and risk-averse part of herself is the part that makes her a better-than-average attorney, and she pays it considerable deference, so she is in fact continuously surprised and rendered speechless or stupid by Ava’s proximity and any demonstrated interest in Beatrice. Currently, she’s fascinated by the blue of Ava’s sweatpants against the black of her slacks. 

“Bea.” 

She looks up again. Ava has leaned closer, pressed some of her weight into the hand on Beatrice’s leg, which has now migrated to a still socially acceptable, but definitely more distracting, position on her thigh. Her eyes are searching. Beatrice clears her throat, glances away. “Yes. Sorry.” 

Look at her, you absolute moron.

“Bea.” Ava’s other hand has come to her jaw, turns Beatrice back to face her. “Just to be totally clear about what’s happening here—I’m flirting with you. I’ve been flirting with you for months. This,” she takes her hand from Beatrice’s jaw and gestures up and down at herself, “Is not exactly how I wanted to have this conversation, but I just watched you lurk on a sidewalk for almost 10 minutes talking yourself up to come see me and it was stupidly cute and it made me want to kiss you. Lots of things make me want to kiss you, and I thought I should probably just tell you that and confirm that you’d want to kiss me back. Because I’m almost totally sure you would.” Beatrice nods and Ava wiggles just slightly in her chair, grinning big. “Awesome. Unfortunately, I can’t actually kiss you right now because I’m currently still like 30% disgusting, which is better enough for me to have told Cam not to stop you from coming here but which is like the absolute maximum you’re allowed to see before we’ve been dating for at least six months.” Ava’s mouth snaps shut and her cheeks bloom red and Beatrice feels something stir in her stomach. 

Ah. The elusive backbone. Glad to see it still exists.

Fuck off, Lilith, she thinks and, in a show of real progress, does not say out loud. Channeling all of the determination that got her through her middling law school education, Beatrice manages to get it together enough to tangle her fingers in the ones on her thigh and say, “Three points. Or, two points and a question. First, I take issue with your use of the word disgusting.” She tucks an escaped strand of Ava’s hair behind her ear, “You’re beautiful. Second, I respect your boundaries entirely but just so you’re aware, I would kiss you right now without hesitation. Finally, would you like to go to dinner with me on Saturday?”

The smile Ava gives her is perfect and bright and Beatrice feels like she’s done something right in this, which, given how she began their interaction today, is quite the relief. 

“Yes. I really, really would.” 

[thebananwithaplan]

(lordofthelostworld) Whenever it was that the Announcer should have some time to himself, perhaps once the kids he was babysitting were asleep, a voice would call out to him, seemingly disembodied in nature. “Hey, pal. You got a moment?”

It was far too goofy-sounding to come off as ominous, as it was quite the caricature of a Brooklyn accent.

“I was just hopin’ to ask something a teensy bit personal, while the yella’ fella ain’t around.” Ah, he meant the host. “Now, you don’t gotta worry about word gettin’ out. I ain’t from ‘round here and quite frankly, I’ve got no interest in blackmail or anything. Though I’d understand if you don’t wanna, considerin’ the circumstances.” After all, whoever this was could not be seen. This could all just be some weird dream, not at all anchored to reality.

“From your perspective – is this ‘Dancing Banana’ guy a good person? Or is there anything about him dat ain’t so great?” There was a short pause. “I figured since ya work closely with ‘im, you might know a thing or two. For clarity’s sake.”

You know what. This 'babysitting' thing was not as easy as it looked, especially if this was for two whole weeks. Even though this was a much more casual setting in comparison to the show that he worked on, the nephews were still a little demanding despite of it; Peel still more or less so (being that he's the production manager).

'Help with our homework' this, 'Do the dishes' that, 'Please play Mario Kart with us' here, and 'can we go somewhere' there. At one point, Announcer couldn't tell if this was any easier than being told around by the same boys on an ACTUAL day at work. Little did he know, the nephews were indeed testing the sentient microphone (per their uncle's request).

Then again, he did bring it upon himself to accept the deal; he can't let the boys have a single complaint against him. If he did, he can kiss that potentially high amount of money goodbye.

🎙️ "Phew..... another day, another couple dollars...." With the boys already asleep by now, he could finally go take a rest himself. Slumping down on the couch, he was pretty much nodding off to sleep when all of a sudden...

...A disembodied voice spoke. One that wasn't his own.

🎙️ "H... hello???"

🎙️ "Who's there??"

Shoot. Did he leave the door open? Is he actually dreaming right now? Tried as he could to look around the little living room, the Announcer could not find a matching body for that voice. Last he checked, announcers weren't supposed to have their own announcers... were they?

He can barely afford to pay for himself, what would make anyone think he can afford for another?

Then the mysterious 'not-announcer's' proposition and his question wanting to be answered. About DB, nonetheless. Gee, even when the banan' isn't here does he STILL attract all sorts of attention...

🎙️ "Well.... nobody's really ever perfect, let's be honest here! Anything we imply about the things he 'may or may not' have committed... all just jokes and Hollywood acting to entertain the fans and bring in the views and money! Promise!" Despite the nonsense that the living meme would make them all go through, they were still very much close-enough friends that trusted each other enough to not out each other outside of show and studio-related business, dream or not. Because if he's being honest, he himself is no saint, either...

[because-she-goes]

aphrodite’s rage

warnings: swearing, nora being angry, drugs (weed), breakup. Enjoy!

author’s note: meet nora! can’t wait for everyone to see more of her :) Also, sorry about the song change, just thought this fit nora and matty’s story and plus george produced it!

“Nora, don’t be ridiculous! We’re good, we’re us. I still love you.”

“But thats the thing Derek, I don’t. You don’t value me, you don’t even let me talk about my job for gods sake! All we do is sit around and talk about you, your needs, your wants. Well, what about what I want hmm? Has that even crossed your mind for a second in our relationship? Have you ever for even a minute not thought about you?” Nora’s voice echoes around the apartment, voice as sweet as ambrosia, but tongue sharp enough to wound the devil. It has been exactly 19 days since she came home from Vegas, from Matty.

Oh Matty. The only person to make her feel seen, heard and understood. The only person to make her feel like a human again. The only person to actually love her.

“This is about him, isn’t it? That guy you met on your trip?” Derek dares, Matty’s name alone enough to strike fear in his veins. Derek doesn’t dare say it.

“So, what the fuck if it is, Derek? So what if I felt special for once? So, what if it somebody made me feel good enough for once? Hmmm answer me when I talk to you!” She spits back at him. A wildfire in her eyes. “Derek, I need you to get this through your thick, dull skull. I don’t love you. I haven’t for awhile.” She thunders.

He stands and looks at her, not a thought behind his eyes. Just a big, dumb idiot. Why did she even fall for this oaf, she thinks. He couldn’t be more opposite than Matty. Matty, she sighs again. Sweet, caring, spontaneous, funny, smart, interesting, fashionable and a menace with the smile of a saint. Nora shivers at the memory of him in that suit the night in vegas, goosebumps flood her skin.

“Matty… if you can even stomach his name… is the greatest person who has ever come into my life, you dick!” Continuing to reign hellfire on her now bumbling boyfriend.

“Oh please, Nora get real! He (Derek still refusing to say his name) just met you like two weeks ago and I have known you since you were 20.” He tries to reason with her, seeing her slip away.

“Hey dipshit, people change! If you think I am still the same young, naive, stoned-out-of-her-mind girl from all those years ago then you are more hopeless than I thought.” Her words like venom. “Derek, may these be the last words I ever have to say to you: we are over.” The final words getting lodged in his psyche. Haunting him.

And with that, she grabs her stuff and walks out of the apartment head held high. She’ll have movers come get her stuff tomorrow and get it to her apartment in Brooklyn.

Stepping out, she inhales the new sense of freedom that surrounds her. Taking out the celebratory joint she kept hidden in her tote bag, she lights up and makes her way towards Walt Whitman park. Puffing on the herb as she struts down the street, she feels reborn. A new, fresh woman. One totally disconnected from her old life, Derek being the final string to it. Derek being the only thing tugging her back in life, towards childish things. He never did understand her now thinking about it. He never got her desire for a career, always telling her she had him to fall back on and not seeing any issue with her being totally dependent on him. He never got her taste in music or her new friends, always suggesting they hang out with people from high school - people who may as well have been taking bets on her downfall and selling tickets to her demise. Her only thought regarding those people, and now Derek was fuck ‘em.

Joint now halfway gone and Nora’s head feeling light and hazy, she gets to the park. Deciding to sit on an empty patch of the lawn and finish her celebration. Digging in her tote bag, finding her phone. Going through her texts she finds one from Matty from two days ago when he got back to the UK. Checking the time, its 7pm in London.

One ring, then two.

“Hey Nor, whats up?” He asks, voice perfectly husky. She relaxes and melts at the pet name.

“Guess who is a free woman, Handsome?” His heart stops. Smile erupting across his face.

“No way, gorgeous. You finally did it?”

“Just got finished, think he is still shell shocked. Now celebrating.”

“As you should. He seemed like a fucking twat anyways.” He remarks.

“I think you’d like to know he couldn’t even say your name. Couldn’t even stomach me saying it.” She tells him, he smirks on the other end of the phone.

“Can’t believe you even liked him, honey. Sounds like a total wanker.”

“Trust me, he is. Anyways, I don’t have much tying to me to New York now and I’m sure I can find a place in London to work out of. Was gonna take a flight there next week and shack up in a hotel-“

“Or, you could stay with me. Save the money plus you could wake and bake with me.” He offers, smiling at the idea of waking up with her every day, of playing house.

“You got yourself a deal, Healy. But, no funny business mister! I’m single, I wanna have fun for a bit.”

“Oh trust me darling, you haven’t known fun until you’ve been in London at night.” He reassures, mouth salivating over the thought of her in a club dress and running around with him at night. Fuck, he is a goner.

The next day, Nora books a one-way flight to London and starts shopping, trying to pick things she deems as being especially tantalizing, deciding she is gonna torture Matty for however long she is there. A mischievous giggle leaves her throat, oh this is gonna be fun.

— 1 week later —

The double decker plane touches down in Heathrow airport. It is late and Nora slept terribly on the flight. Texting Matty that she landed safely and giving him the arrival information, she stands up to grab her overhead bag. Her hoodie comforting her and baggy sweatpants pool at her ankles. She pulls her headphones around her neck as she walks in the direction of checked luggage and grabbing her suitcases. Next is customs, thanking the lord she didn’t pack any weed betting on Matty having a full stock at his house. The customs officer asks her if she’s staying for business or pleasure and she responds by pausing and then decidedly saying pleasure and adding that she got a visitor’s visa approved by the UK embassy in New York last week. He nods sternly and confirms that yes, she did. Stamping the US passport and sending her on her way to the pickup location.

In the crowd of families reuniting, soldiers rushing to their partners, siblings hugging and lovers kissing she spots a card.

“Thee Ms. Nora Downey.”

The man behind the sign looks positively drool worthy. First off, he has stubble that dances across his defined jaw accentuating his features. Secondly, he’s wearing an old Yankees hat low hiding his eyes from anyone who may recognize them and as a way to tease Nora, fully knowing she prefers the Mets. Third, he’s wearing a tight crisp white shirt letting his iconic tattoos creep out from the hems and sleeves hugging his defined biceps. Finally, she sees a pair of baby blue adidas track pants hang low from his waist with a pair of battered gazelles. If she could jump him, she would. She composes herself, trying to get her voice to be even when she greets him.

From his view, she could not look any cuter. Hoodie tied at the neck, brunette hair creeping out from underneath and black headphones cover her neck. He makes a note to himself to litter it with hickeys at some point during her trip. Her grey sweatpants adorably too long for her frame and black sambas barely visible. She softly smiles at him as the escalator descends, her nerves increasing at he grows closer. He reciprocates.

Finally being within arms reach of her, he pulls her to his chest. Wrapping his arms around her and breathing in her perfume - coffee and vanilla with a little smoke - he hums. Content to have his favorite girl in his town and getting to be her personal tour guide for however long he is lucky enough to have her. He already scheduled for them to go on a guided tour of the Tate Modern tomorrow night and grab some dinner. The guys were gonna meet her in a couple days - Adam being the most eager since he was a fan of her work.

Her head is tucked into his shoulder, smiling ear to ear as she feels his shoulder relax under her arms. She breathes calmly - smelling the lavender and mint cologne she has come to love. She marvels at the fact that she was ready to go to bed just 45 minutes ago when she landed, but now feeling wide awake in his presence.

“Hi, honey. Missed you, can’t wait to show you just how…fun… I can be.” He smirks, ready to be just the most enchanting version of himself.

“Oh, you’re on, Handsome. I was born to be…fun.” She teases, mirroring his smirk.

She feels him shudder. Oh she’s got this in the bag.

[pulsdmedia]

The Week Ahead 5/13-5/19

Spring, you simply make us all feel sunshine-y and fabulous! Sure, there's some residual sprinkles from the sky, but we have our eyes on the prize - summer! Indulgence, days out & about, and celebration in excess. We can't wait...

$39 Ticket To A 3.5 Hour Food Festival with 60+ Top Restaurants

The 30th Taste Of Tribeca Food Festival is here on Saturday, so immerse yourself in a gastronomic paradise as acclaimed dishes and innovative creations tantalize your taste buds. With 60+ restaurants showcasing their signature dishes, prepare to be impressed. Plus, enjoy extra feel-good vibes knowing that proceeds benefit the enrichment programs for children at PS 150 and PS 234 public schools. Soak in the sunshine, let the flavors of Lower Manhattan blow you away, and marvel at the perfect Saturday in the city...

Matthew Rhys, Keri Russell, & More At 92Y

71 years after Dylan Thomas premiered his masterpiece play Under Milk Wood, 92NY presents that back story in a one-night only special event — a dramatic reading of the new one-act Christopher Monger play, Dear Mr. Thomas: A New Play for Voices, starring acclaimed actors Matthew Rhys (as Dylan Thomas), and Keri Russell, among others. The event will take place on International Dylan Thomas Day.

$65 Sunset Celebration Tix: 2.5 Hour Open Bar, 20+ Food Tastings

Prepare your palate for a tantalizing adventure of culinary delights and cultural exploration at The Third Annual AANHPI Sunset Celebration! You'll enjoy access to a 2.5 Hour Open Bar, plus Delicious Food Tastings From 20+ AAPI Restaurants & Vendors. Last year's lineup of eats will be a scrumptious indication of what to expect - from the savory allure of Nom Wah's Pork Soup Dumplings to the delicate flavors of Bessou's Sake Steamed Clams with Nori Butter, each dish promises to be nothing short of extraordinary. It's the ultimate way to kick off your weekend in style!

Connect With NYC Tech and SaaS Communities Via An Outdoor Walk

Already work in tech or maybe trying to enter the industry? Grab some comfortable foot gear and join for a walk in NYC led by Co-Hosts who share their experience and unique POV's with TechWalk attendees. Gather at an easy-to-find meeting spot and then take a leisurely stroll through the park, appreciating the scenery and forging new connections in a friendly and inclusive setting.

$29 Ticket To Taste 100+ Whiskeys & Spirits In Long Island

A terrifically dreamy boozy adventure is set to wow your taste buds at The 2024 Long Island Whiskey & Spirits Festival! Let the summer sunshine infuse your senses with a delightful blend of spirits and social buzz as you gather with your crew on this perfect May Saturday! With over 100 different types of Whiskeys, Scotches, Tequilas, Vodkas, Gin, and more to sample endlessly, every sip is an adventure, not to mention the chance to devour scrumptious offerings. It's time to fall in love with it all, one sip at a time!

Sound & Color! Spring Festival

Sound & Color! Spring Festival at Brooklyn Bridge Park is a celebration of colors, culture, spring and unity. Expanding the Conservancy’s beloved Kite Festival, this year they’re adding music to the Colors throughout the Park!

[danklefstad-blog]

Re: Your Intern Who Rejected My Book

Dear Publisher,

Many thanks for responding to my manuscript query. Even though it took 11 months, two weeks, and three days for your reply to arrive, and even though it was clearly a form email, I’m grateful that your college intern took the time to read my sample pages while watching TikTok videos and snapping Instagram images of freshly painted fingernails. Such multi-platform multitasking is perfect preparation for this new world where nouns are distilled into memes, feelings are reduced to emojis, and attention is measured in GIFs. I hope you’re paying your primary gatekeeper an adequate wage to share a studio apartment in Brooklyn with no more than three other future captains of the content creation industry formerly known as publishing.

I hate to intrude on your Facebook time, but I would like to point out a few of your junior staffer’s notes, presumably meant to help with my future submissions. Please understand I’m not trying to get anyone into trouble. I merely want to confirm whether these “edits” reflect the new industry standard for composition worthy of today’s audience.

Firstly, your intern changed all gender pronouns to they/them. While I consider myself an ally of transgender and non-binary persons, I maintain some readers might find it useful to know whether a character identifies as “he” or “she” or is biologically so. If you feel otherwise, I’ll admit this is not a hill I’m willing to die taking, as we’re only talking about pronouns.

Secondly, any reference to sexual attraction, or even intercourse, has been removed. It seems your apprentice feels my main characters would appeal more broadly to Generation Z if they identified as “ace” which, after consulting a source called Urban Dictionary, I learned means asexual. No offense to those not interested in sex but how does your intern think people arrive on this planet? Dropped by aliens? Maybe it’s time we bring back the old trope of the stork carrying a swaddled babe in its beak. For the remainder of this letter I’ll refer to the younger cohort as storks — and I don’t care if they view this as a micro-aggression. I am the one who feels attacked and I seek, nay, I demand answers as to what our industry’s standards really are.

Trigger warning: A complaint about trigger warnings is imminent. Are you in a safe place, emotionally speaking, to read my third objection? Allow me tread lightly so as not to bruise your feelings. Okay, I’ll admit this preamble is insensitive. But seriously: Where do we draw the line between a reader’s right not to re-live trauma and my right to inject realism into a story? In my case, your employee went too far when striking an entire scene in which an injured horse is euthanized by its owner. Shooting a lame steed was common practice in the 18th century, and my depiction of this act was meant to portray the owner as a sensitive and merciful man. However, this proved far too much for your stork who apparently still suffers from PTSD after a veterinarian put down a beloved “fur baby.” My lack of a warning seems to be the main reason my manuscript was declined. For your intern’s sake I’ll thank God they didn’t read the part where the man, who was starving, ate his horse so that he could survive a harsh winter.

Please understand that I deeply empathize with anyone who had to say goodbye to a beloved pet. And I would accept the inclusion of a trigger warning for this scene if it increases my odds for getting published. But what about other passages such as a battle devolving into brutal hand-to-hand combat? Or a character’s death from dysentery? Adding warnings to each of these chapters would yank the reader out of the immersive experience I carefully curated for them. I hope you’ll agree that not every chapter in a book should be filled with “happy place” things.

My final complaint focuses on your stork’s lack of knowledge, even complete disregard, for American history. Here I’ll need to burden you with another detail about my novel: It features Thomas Jefferson as a recurring character. In my story Mr. Jefferson is presented as a complex, flawed human of his time who literally owned Black Americans, some of whom he used for sex, the most famous being Sally Hemings. To my astonishment the stork you hired as the sieve for incoming manuscripts insisted I was wrong. Thomas Jefferson, she wrote in all caps, WAS A BLACK MAN. When I shouted back at these words my daughter informed me that a Black actor plays Jefferson in the original cast of Hamilton, a play she has seen numerous times on the Disney channel. My daughter’s praise for the production was drowned out by my alarm that the person you put in charge of acquisitions looked no further than a Broadway musical for fundamental facts about our nation.

Having vented enough for now I wonder if my blame is aimed at the wrong target. What if the education system is the real culprit? Or Gen Z’s parents? Regardless, I do believe you’d be well served to occasionally double-check the writing samples your intern rejects. No need to do this with mine, however. I’ve given up and am exploring other avenues to “boost awareness among content consumers” of my “creative offerings.” God, just reading those words makes me feel dead inside. Still, I’ll focus on greener pastures like my YouTube channel in which I read rejection letters and offer comments similar to what you’ve read here. So far only a dozen people have subscribed but I’m predicting thousands of writers will sign up once my social media posts get enough shares. I’m still researching the best hashtags to optimize my Google-friendliness or whatever they call it. I do find some comfort in this practice as it still involves the careful selection of words.

Would you like to increase your media profile? Join me on my channel. I’d love to get your opinion about where our industry is headed and whether books can still maintain a place in this new landscape. And if the person reading this is in fact the intern who stars in the previous paragraphs, I mean no insult. What’s more, I’ll bet you’d be a far more entertaining guest than your boss — or me, for that matter. We could talk about Hamilton, pronouns, triggers, whatever you want. You’re the future, after all. Those who write should know who you are and what content you prefer.

If, during our chat you scroll through Instagram or TikTok, all I ask is that you share your distractions with our viewers. I realize I’d risk being a bystander on my show. But I need to know if my words still have relevance. Perhaps you’d be doing me a favor by putting me out of my misery. Just do it quickly and as painlessly as possible. And be sure your rising star executes a full eclipse so my remains are shielded from sensitive eyes. Not to put too fine a point on it but don’t eat me because that would get you banned from all platforms, possibly forever.

What’s that? Of course, vegan. Please excuse my lame and inappropriate attempt at humor. And may your words succeed where mine have failed.

Author.

[real-jane]

nftn: if it weren't for you

(bucky barnes x female!reader, shield)

summary: just the thought of what your combined future could bring has bucky seeking deeper intimacy with you.

warnings: do i 'warn' you that this is 70% smut? mmkay, smut. reader yelling at steve rogers for a second, the 'm' word coming up, sweet and awkward first time sex, sex toys, p in v, oral (f receiving), bucky is remembering what intimacy can be, reader being self-assured sexually and prepared, we love a prepared queen

word count: 7,112

a/n: part six of ‘nostalgia for the new’. let's pretend for the sake of fiction that all SHIELD agents, of any gender, have some sort of personalized birth control implant to prevent de bebes. sex can be awkward and sweet and silly, and our babes deserve it. this took me like twenty hours to write. enjoy!! (my sibling follows me on tumblr. ignore this, sibling!)

series masterlist - now featuring a playlist!

Steve Rogers didn’t run. Nobody could mistake what that man did around a track for a morning jog or even a light sprint (and you had a sneaking suspicion that the only benefit he got from doing a zillion laps every morning was impeccably blow-dried hair, as his body didn’t even break a sweat)... and yet, he stood next to you in his white New Balance sneakers, like the centenarian he was, and waited to join you for your walk, in Bucky’s place.

“How’d he do out there?”

The question rankled.

Steve had this habit of gauging Bucky’s status by asking you, and it was getting to the point where it seemed like avoidance… like the closer you got to Bucky, the less time Steve spent with his best friend. And it had been a week since your trip off compound, so. This man had reported to Director Fury about how he did out there. This should have come up sooner, or at least he should’ve spoken to Bucky about it instead. But, Bucky wasn’t here, he was packing to spend a few days in Wakanda for a routine check-in, and you had left to give him some space.

You tied your stubborn shoelace, the one which had become Alpine’s favorite toy. You didn’t have the heart to rob your furry kitten of such delights, so… stubby strings would have to do. If only you had worn thicker socks. It was as chilly as an early November morning could reasonably be, without inspiring precipitation.

“Y/n?” Steve pressed, reminding you he had asked an annoying question.

“Who’s asking?” One glance at Steve and you realized… he was frowning. You sat back.

“Me.”

You snorted. “You, as in… Captain America, Nick Fury’s mouthpiece? Or… you as in, Stevie, the punk kid from Brooklyn, known for picking fights in dark alleys?”

The corner of his mouth turned up in an excellent approximation of his best friend’s smirk. “Number two.”

You sighed. “Well…I think he was fine.”

“And the panic attack…”

“He trusted me to keep him grounded; it only took him a few minutes to get back to zero. He didn’t lose his appetite, which--” you laughed, and Steve couldn’t help but let down his shoulders from where they had hitched themselves to his earlobes.

“He’s been so happy not doing that stupid paleo-bullshit Shaw had him eating. I could’ve cried when he let me feed him cinnamon roll.”

You stood and nodded towards the track, which was always empty this early in the morning. Steve fell in step beside you. Your ankle wasn’t physically ready for a run just yet, but this was the start of your new training regime, and apparently Cap was along for the ride.

“How’d he do with the bike?”

“Like it was an extension of his body. I know he only gets to ride that thing around the test track normally, but it purrs for him. Even in the rain, he was steady. With a kitten in his jacket, in a lightning storm. Steady as a--”

“Tin soldier?” your companion offered lightly.

“Sure…” You shrugged. “I don’t know what else you want me to say, Steve.”

“No, no… that, um.” He stopped for a minute, finding his words carefully. “That’s enough. I was expecting the worst, and I see that I had no reason to.”

You blinked at him. “...are you inviting my opinion, or--”

“Mmm. Don’t know if I can take it.” His ears turned pink with the admission. His old man sneakers squeaked a little with each step on the slightly damp rubberized track.

“What are you asking?”

“What do you want with him?”

“Wow. Direct--”

“I don’t mean it like what the hell do you want with him, just… what kind of future do you think about, for you two?”

How do you say everything?

You’d been dreaming the last few nights of a small house with light filtering through the windows in the early morning, and coming into the kitchen to find Bucky making something on the stove. He’d smile at you--the one that was all teeth and wrinkled nose--and the dream would filter into little domestic moments, in a place of your own.

You could have that with him, anywhere.

“I think he’d do well near the sea, in someplace with buildings no taller than two stories,” you said softly. “I don’t know how well vibranium does with sea salt, so… maybe further north. Maine, or something. He’d make a great lobsterman.”

Steve breathed out slowly. “Sounds nice.”

“Or maybe sharing a third floor walkup in Brooklyn, in your old stomping grounds. Or New Mexico. Become art collectors.” You glanced at Steve. “I don’t really know what kind of future we’ll have. Whatever we do, we’ll find our own kind of happiness. Is… is that what you were looking for? I can whip you up a PowerPoint when we’re done here.”

Steve didn’t speak for a moment. You counted out the beat in measured footsteps. It took fifty-three before Cap could speak again.

“There was a time when I was envious of how everything just came so easy to him--the Army couldn’t get enough of him!” he said finally, wincing a little to mention such a thing to you, but he shrugged. “They made him a sniper, a sergeant--you’ve never seen a more dapper guy than Bucky in his uniform.”

“I’m sure.”

“Suffice to say that he was the paragon for everything my life could be, but wasn’t...”

“Awfully high pedestal you have him on.” You looked at him pointedly.

He reddened. “Right... And I had to look his mother in the face and tell her that he fell from a train car in the Alps.” Steve shook his head. “I thought he was dead for over half of my life.”

The very thought was choking--thinking that Bucky was gone when he had been everything to you. “That must have been hard.”

“I… god, kid. If you could’ve seen me when he died. I think there’s still a hole in me that is Bucky-shaped.” He stopped walking, grasping your elbow. “Please, don’t… don’t tell him that I miss who he was, it’s not like that.”

Something about Steve’s tone made your blood rise. You frowned, tugging out of his grasp. “He’s a different man, Steve.”

“I know.”

“And… you’ve been operating like he’s still gone, or… like he’s going to disappear again if you don’t help keep him reined in. Does that pretty much cover it?”

Steve said nothing, but you knew the arrow had landed. You crossed your arms.

“Bucky is a sweet man trying to figure out where he belongs in this world, but he is also capable of so much more than what he’s being allowed to do. He’s smart. Brave, focused. One day on a date off compound with me doesn’t invalidate or prove that. But if you’re waiting for him to explode again… he might. He’s human.”

“We can’t afford what happens when he explodes, Y/n.”

“Oh boy,” you breathed, “don’t ever let him hear you say that. You’ll break his fucking heart.” That stung, right between the ribs. You couldn’t take any more of this conversation, not when Bucky was packing to spend a few days with Shuri in Wakanda--the place where he was freed from the risk of detonation. You could be with him.

“Y/n--”

You held up a threatening finger. “No! Listen to you! Blubbering about him as if he’s not a flesh and bone person, a part of your life right now!.”

“You see a side of him I don’t get to--”

“The night I met you, you seemed so surprised to learn that your best friend was miserable. It’s no wonder you didn’t realize that the testing was going on.”

“That’s not fair, it's a complex issue--”

“Ten minutes in his company was enough to see how he was suffering, but here you are martyring yourself on behalf of your friend who died--He did. Let that version of him go before you miss out on this one.” You took several steps backwards and held up your hands as he made like he was going to follow you. “Thanks for the help getting him out last week. I’ll take it from here.”

“Wait. Y/n.” His voice was solemn, but firm. You paused with your back to him. It seemed like eons before he finally said… “You’re right.” Steve touched your shoulder.

You stiffened. “I know.”

He huffed out a sad laugh. “I’m so sorry my failings fell to you. He’s very lucky you’re in his life.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “He chose me.”

“Yes, he did. And I’m glad, even if you make me feel like an idiot.”

That made you smile, against your will. “Yeah, well. Go with the feeling.” He looked positively cowed, and you couldn’t help but think he deserved to sit with that. For a bit. “God, Steve. I could be distracting him from packing right now, you know.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

You knew it was hard for Steve to admit when he was wrong, especially when it came to Bucky. It was a hard-won victory to hear him apologize for it, but. Still felt like a breakthrough. It’s not that Steve’s way of loving Bucky was invalid, it was just outdated. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to miss out on the best version of Bucky.

“How did things get to this point?” you asked. “You used to bring him books and try to get him into the gym. When was the last time you spent some decent time with him? And don’t use my presence as an excuse, I don’t own his time.”

“God. It’s been a while,” he admitted. “Maybe I’m just… scared to lose him again.”

“There’s people with expensive degrees you can talk to about that. Unless you want to pay me for this conversation…”

Steve laughed, then, scratching his cheek. “Back, uh. Before he broke through, when…”

“When he was the Asset,” you finished for him.

“Right. Nobody understood why I wouldn’t fight him. Even Sam told me once that Bucky wasn’t the kind of guy I could save. I mean--we did have several confrontations, but every time, I saw him in there. I had no idea how it would go, if he’d ever come around--”

“But he did.”

Steve nodded. “Every time.”

“Couldn’t fight his true nature.”

“He has always had that goodness rooted deep. And… going forward, know that I’m open to accountability for wavering in that belief.”

“I have one ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Anticipate that you’re going to fuck up again,” you said gently, “and don’t put the work on me to fix it for you, or absolve you. I do things for Bucky because it’s the right thing to do, and because we’re in a partnership with mutual benefits; I don’t want the man I love to suffer anymore. I can’t control his recovery, but I certainly can ask questions of the people around him who seem to think they can. The bottom line is... I’m not the person you should be apologizing to. I think he would like to hear from you how good you believe he is.”

“I’ll… I’ll talk to him.”

“Good. Before he leaves today?”

“Yes.”

Steve opened his arms in a silent request. You stepped into his embrace. His hug was brief, but he held you tight. He nodded to the track. You took him up on finishing your walk.

It was good to see the human in Steve, even if he was still figuring out how to balance the right level of concern with his duty as Cap. He was far more answerable to the machinations of the Avengers, and even SHIELD, than just about anyone--especially to the public. But his duty often clouded his judgment where his friends were concerned. You had seen it a few times since getting closer to the small group he considered family, and it was evidenced by his disconnect from Bucky.

Bucky would surely wave off the apology when it came--and say something dismissive to let Steve off the hook far sooner than you were willing to. But he’d think about it all the way to Wakanda, and that was good enough.

Most of the laps passed in relative silence. The air had lost its dewy crispness, so it was just plain chilly. Even bundled as you were in Bucky’s hoodie, a jacket over the top, hat, etc… you were shivering. Steve, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content in a long-sleeve t-shirt. He also had, peeking just out of his collar… something that looked awfully like a love-bite.

“So. Help me win a bet.” You bit back a conspiratorial laugh which threatened when he narrowed his eyes. “How long have you and Nat been a thing?”

Cap groaned. “I knew you knew.”

***

He was only going to be gone a few days, but Bucky had still begged out of your morning walk to at least try to pack like a reasonable person. He’d need activewear for the physical--Shuri liked to make him catch heavy things falling from heights, so he would require clothing with some stretch. And then something… more formal, because His Majesty insisted on a dinner every time Bucky came for a routine check-up. He’d have to settle on a tux jacket he’d only worn once, and a pair of black pants with the fewest holes. Suddenly, this felt far more like a business trip than the tune-up it was. Bucky sighed.

You’d be better at this. You knew where all of his clothes were, anyway. He should just ask you to come along with him, Shuri would love you--and then she’d stop trying to insinuate that anything should come of the time he spent with Ayo. It was easy to forget that Shuri was still a teenager when she was programming his arm and deprogramming his brain. And you were just the kind of woman who would earn her respect.

No patience for idiots. You and Shuri were alike in that way.

A quiet knock echoed through the mostly-empty suite; all Bucky stored in there anymore was his extra clothes. He slept, bathed, lived in yours. He opened the door to Captain America.

“How’s packing going?”

Bucky stepped to the side and let Steve in. “Slowly. None of my clothes seem good enough to have dinner with the Wakandan royal family. I should’ve planned better. Ramonda insinuated that I have no fashion sense, last time I was there.”

Cap snorted. “You don’t.”

“You punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the desk. “So, uh. Y/n had a lot to say to me this morning.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Really?”

“Yeah. Um… I haven’t been doing right by you, Buck.”

“...what do you mean?”

“All the stuff she’s done, getting your surveillance dialed back and the trip off-compound. I could’ve done that.”

“Nah, Steve--”

“Please, I gotta get this out while it’s fresh in my mind. I spent so long trying to get you back, and once I finally had you… I stepped back, I stopped fighting, because at least you were here. Which meant you were fairly miserable and isolated, which was in my power to change. And since I didn’t, you suffered. I should have been better than that, and I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t gotta do that,” Bucky murmured. “You did the best you could.”

“I’ll do better. Yeah? You’re a good man. You deserve it.”

Bucky blinked back a heady rush of emotion. He beckoned his first, best friend to him. Steve sniffed, too, embracing Bucky tightly.

“I didn’t realize Y/n felt like that,” Bucky said.

“Y/n’s got more clarity than most people,” Steve sighed. He patted Bucky on the back. “She did say something really interesting.” Steve pulled from the hug and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Not to put pressure on you, or anything.”

“Christ, what?” Bucky sat on his bed, subtly wiping his eyes in his sleeve.

“Well, after relentlessly roasting me about you, and then about Nat and me, she may have suggested marriage was in our future. So, I asked her if she would marry you.”

“...and?”

“I believe her exact words were ‘what wouldn’t I do for James Barnes?’”

Bucky rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re serious.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“No,” he said honestly. “It’s never been a blip on my radar, why would it? If she weren’t so persistent, I’m not sure I’d ever have given any woman the time of day.” He stared, not really at anything in particular, as he thought about it. “God. Me, married. Can you imagine?”

Bucky hadn’t ever thought about himself and marriage in the same universe, but as the thought infiltrated the folds of his brain, some little flashes came through.

This is my wife, Y/n.

My wife loves that movie.

How’d I meet my wife? Funny story…

Oh, you like it? My wife picked it out.

Wife.

Total-body warmth blossomed outwards from the center of his chest, where an idea so special as to be phenomenon implanted itself. You. His wife. Bucky Barnes’ wife. Forever.

“Maybe I should be thinking about it,” he breathed.

“Certainly proved she’s committed to every vow, without the formal recitation.”

“Where’d she go when you left her?”

“To hers. Said she was gonna clean up before your flight leaves tonight.”

“Great. Great.” Bucky stood and shook Steve’s hand vigorously. “Great. I gotta go.”

“You gonna propose to her right now?” Cap laughed. “You haven’t finished packing!”

“T'challa will forgive me for wearing a leather jacket!”

Bucky burst out of his room and bolted for the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Bucky chuckled. He felt lighter than air. What the hell was happening to his body?? It didn’t matter.

He turned his key in the lock and let himself into your room. Alpine mewled in delight to see him from his cozy nest amongst the blankets on the bed. The sound of the shower running was all that could be heard in the tiny suite, except for the faint hum of your voice. He knocked on the washroom door.

“Love?”

“Hey,” you called back. He opened the door a crack and the foggy steam swirled around his face. “You finished packing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “Can I… join you?”

Immediately, your face popped out from behind the curtain with wide doe eyes. “You sure?”

His heart swelled. “Yeah.”

You nodded, and a little smile crept in. “Far be it from me to deprive you.”

You disappeared behind the curtain again and Bucky felt the prickle of anxiety in his muscles. He shook out his hands to dispel the feeling and quickly stripped.

He curled his fingers around the curtain and stepped into the shower. Your back was to him, and you seemed to be washing some soap from your face. The curve of your back, the way it gave way to a vast and beautiful softness--Bucky breathed out hard. He had seen you naked before. He knew you were a masterpiece. And even though his nerves were threatening the integrity of his knees, he wanted you to know it.

Bucky raised his hand to your bicep, and smoothed down your arm, stepping closer tentatively. You peered at him with your mouth in a pleased moue.

“Hi.”

He pressed his lips to your temple. “Hi.”

“This is new.”

“Mmhm.”

“Not a complaint.” You shivered when his vibranium fingers found your waist. Bucky wrapped his arms around you fully, and nestled his face in your neck. “As long as you’re comfortable.”

“‘M always comfortable with you.”

You let your head fall against his shoulder. “I missed you on my walk.”

“Sounds like it was interesting,” he murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Apparently you had a lot to say.”

“Baby, he loves you, but…” you sighed. “I’m sick of him pretending like he’s powerless to help you. And I told him that.”

“Mhm. He apologized to me.” Bucky felt the chill of being near water but not under it. “Switch me?”

“Sure.”

But he didn’t let you step away--Bucky just lifted you, and turned around to put his back into the spray. You laughed.

“Oh my god, Buck.”

“What? I didn’t wanna let go.” He tilted his head back so the water could rush over his head.

“What did Steve say to you?”

He sighed. “That he’s sorry he didn’t look out for me, that he will do better.”

“Hmm. Good.” You sagged into his hold, and Bucky made little circles on your tummy while he carded the other hand through his hair.

“Yeah?”

“I really laid into him.”

“Apparently you said nice things about me too.”

You giggled. “Oh yeah, told him you’d make a fantastic lobsterman.”

Bucky shook with laughter. “How kind.” He kissed your cheek, but then he took a long moment to just nuzzle your hair and the fresh lilac scent.

You turned in his grasp, and wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up with those piercing eyes of yours, which always made Bucky feel like you saw through whatever facade he had put on that day. Your cheeks drew in subtly as you felt him stiffen against your stomach. Oh. Bucky let himself just… linger, running his hands along your back.

“Baby,” you whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Steve pressed me a little, about what kind of future I see with you.”

The sensation of your fingers tracing where metal met flesh in the deep tissues of his chest made Bucky shiver, but he didn’t miss the way you blushed. Your lower lip disappeared between your teeth as you found some bravery.

“I want you to know,” you murmured. “I would do this forever. I think it’s silly not to say it when you feel it, so. If you want to live here for ten more years, or become a lobsterman in Maine, or get married, or whatever, I will.

“I--you’re my life, Buck. I know we haven’t been together that long, and I don’t say it lightly… god knows lesser men than you would run the other direction. Pretending the intensity of my feelings is any less than this would be doing you a disservice. I want you to be the last person to know my body intimately, and the first person I see every morning, for the rest of our lives.”

Bucky cupped your cheeks. He had to look up, look away--or tears were going to fall before he could speak. He shook his head. What was it with people making him cry, today? And how in the hell had he found this? Him, a sad sack with enough trauma to drown in vices innumerable, with no family to speak of and no home to offer a woman--just a motorcycle and a kitten.

“Can you say something? You’re making me nervous,” you peeped. Bucky folded, touching his forehead to yours.

“I want that,” he breathed. “All of that. Can I show you how much?” When you nodded, Bucky thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. “It has been…” he trailed off and cleared his throat.

God. His muscle memory could be carbon-dated. He couldn’t even remember the last woman he held like his--no, never like this, at the edge of the rest of his life.

You stood on your toes and graced your lips with his, centering him. Little rivulets of water ran down the column of your neck, between your breasts, and he allowed himself to fully take you in. You smiled, grasped his wrists where they rested at your jaw.

“Discover me, then.”

Bucky nodded. “And... you tell me what you like.”

“You’ll be able to tell,” you said with a soft smile. “Maybe kiss me to start? Pretty good at that, already.”

“Here?” he smiled against your mouth.

“Wherever.”

He paused in the space where your breath commingled. Oh. Like. Wherever. First, he tested what your cheek felt like beneath his lips, and then your jaw. You tugged his wrist, trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, expanding his potential exploration. Bucky hummed into the skin behind your ear, but he didn’t… quite know what to do with his hands. Giving control to you in that regard seemed safest. Maybe he should tell you that…

“You, um. Can maybe put my hands wherever,” he mumbled.

“Okay,” you breathed, tilting your head back to give him better access to your skin. “Well, I--mmph.” Bucky froze at the base of your neck, in the hollow above your clavicle, where he had just spent a moment mapping the rise of bone and muscle. “No, no. Good. Right above that. Pulse point.”

“Here, love?” He nosed the spot.

“Mmm. Suck on that spot just a little.”

Bucky gave that little sweet spot a lav and noted how it made your breath come in slow, contained drags. When he did as you asked, your knees wobbled. You released his vibranium arm and he held you close, bearing your weight against his side. With his other hand, you guided his touch to the curve beneath your breast. He stretched out his fingers. The map of your skin gained form, and he watched your reaction. When he graced the back of his knuckles up the swell, you arched towards him. When he found your nipple, the skin pulled taught beneath his thumb.

“Can I… kiss them?”

“Be insulted if you didn’t,” you said.

You had found your way to the wall beneath the shower’s spray--how, neither of you could be absolutely sure, but Bucky reveled in the sight of your half-lidded eyes. He knelt… and got a face full of water, with the way it streamed over his shoulders and hair. He gripped your waist as he laughed, swiping the water from his eyes. He pulled you closer to him. You’d have to keep your own balance, but he wouldn’t let you fall. Bucky nosed your nipple. You gasped.

“I can’t believe I get to hear you,” he breathed, before testing what other sounds you might make if his tongue flickered against the rosy bud. That inspired your fingers to find his hair, tugging in a way that sent prickles shooting down his spine. If he wasn’t already absolutely straining, the swirling of your fingers against his scalp would’ve done the job. He closed his lips around your left.

“Mmm. No teeth, please. But touch this one.” You tapped his metal hand at your waist.

He released you with a peck. “Sure?”

“Just little tugs and circles. This arm’s cold, it will play with my senses.”

Bucky’s head dropped against your stomach and he groaned. “Oh my god.”

“What?” you laughed. “Overwhelmed?”

“Oh. Nothing,” he said, though his voice was muffled in your damp skin. “I’m in heaven. That’s all. Carry on.”

He allowed you to lift his left arm and position his fingers in just such a way--god, he could feel you, even through the vibranium. Shuri had wired it so precisely that this is what it was supposed to do--behave like his normal skin--but he never felt so well with it, not like this. Maybe it was in his head, or went back to his theory that the arm responded to you specifically. Whatever it was, the slip of dampness between your pebbled skin and the plates in his fingers gave him a rush.

Note to self: ask Shuri to up the touch-sensitivity factor…

“Baby? My knees are gonna give out. Can we--”

He was on his feet immediately. “We can stop. I’ll dry you off--”

“No!” you laughed, grabbing his elbow before he could bolt from the shower. “I don’t want to stop. I want to relocate. Bed?”

His ears pricked up, and Bucky reached around you to turn off the faucet. The spray ceased. He bent forward and braced his shoulder into your hips, and then looped his arms behind your knees. In one movement, he hucked you over his shoulder and booked it from the washroom. Alpine gave an indignant mewl as he was evicted from his comfy bed for the safety of the armchair by a large wet hand, but Bucky had no time!

“Bucky! Put me down,” you laughed, smacking his entirely unclothed ass. He jumped.

“I can’t believe you!” He tossed you onto the mess of covers and then launched himself behind, pinning you to the mattress. Which resulted in him realizing he was feeling absolutely every part of your skin against his, and immediately locking his lips over yours.

He wasn’t gentle anymore--he wasn’t quite sure how to be when you were responding so strongly. You arched into his chest. His tongue was demure in demanding entrance, but his lips worried your bottom one with desperate drags. He knew exactly how you liked to be kissed, and exactly what it did to him, and when you pulled your knees up on either side of his hips… he felt what it did to you, too.

He nipped your chin. “Can I touch you, doll? I feel you already, I’m--”

You let your knee fall to the side so you could guide his right hand between you. Any more he could have said died at the back of his throat because he felt how slick you were. So warm… god, you were burning just like he was. He dragged just one finger along your center.

“Wow,” he breathed. “Did I do this to you?”

You smiled, lips kissed so red and perfect and hair wild and wet on the pillow behind your head. “Do you like how it feels?”

He blew out a sharp breath. “Apparently I’ve done this before, but you are so perfect--I don’t ever remember it feeling like this.”

“It wasn’t us.”

“Wasn’t us,” Bucky echoed. He dipped the end of his finger further, seeking the spongy softness of you. Your passage gave him no trouble and he groaned. “Jesus, love. Another?”

You nodded and he tested the addition of a second finger. You clenched around him, breathing through the slight stretch, and he kissed you through a tentative thrust. A moan escaped between your lips.

“Curve them up,” you instructed. Bucky was a quick learner. He found the spot which made your mouth drop open. You slid your hand down between your bodies. “Thumb here.” You positioned his hand so that his thumb was flush against a swollen bundle of nerves. “I don’t--fuck, baby, that was the spot,” you laughed breathily. “Don’t usually come with just penetration,” you explained. “So. Touch my clit, not too hard. She’s sensitive. And--oh my god, Bucky, pause for a sec.”

He couldn’t help but grin because he felt you fluttering around his fingers, and he knew you weren’t far off from coming, and he did that. God, I’m going to be insufferable once she does, he thought. You shook your head with a faint smile.

“You’re amazing. Zero complaints, but… um. You are fairly… large. And it’s been a long time for me, so. You’re going to have to prepare me a little.”

“How. Tell me, I’ll do it.”

You patted his cheek. “Your dedication to the cause is inspiring, baby. Well... you can continue on course but add a third finger. Can’t speak to your hand’s stamina. Perfectly acceptable option, given that… your hand is already inside of me.” He gave you a languorous stroke to punctuate that, and also to wordlessly tell you that he would continue on said course even if his hand muscles atrophied, if that’s what you needed. Your eyes rolled back and you grabbed his wrist in warning.

“But, also, I have. A, um. Collection of other things that can help.”

“Collection.” He blinked.

“Yeah. Open the bottom drawer of my night stand.”

Bucky slowly removed his fingers from you and leaned down to do just that. There certainly was a collection of items there… some brightly colored, some less so. Several electrical cords. A few bottles. Not a heaping collection, but many of them… phallic. He raised his eyebrows.

“What am I looking at, doll?”

“Toys. For pleasure.” You rolled onto your side and pointed down into the drawer. “Grab that grey bottle with silver writing, and… that.”

“Okay… oh. It’s like. Squishy.” He handed you over the toy that you had requested.

“Yeah. It’s silicone. Synthesizes skin, sort of. So, if we use this--” you held up the grey bottle-- “it’s lubricant, completely safe for use inside the body, although…” You peered at the back of the bottle, where there was extensive writing. “Is coconut or sunflower oil bad for vibranium?”

Bucky shrugged. “Shuri oils my arm every time I get an upgrade. Probably fine.”

“Is this a very unsexy conversation?” The corners of your mouth turned up, but you began to look a bit worried. He shook his head rapidly.

“You brought this up because you want me to fit inside you without hurting you, doll. Do I look as if I’ve been turned off?” His cock certainly didn’t. He pointed to the toy. “Teach me.”

You beckoned him forward with two fingers and kissed him softly. “I really love you.”

“I love you. This is the best day of my life.” He meant it hyperbolically, but you gave him the sweetest kiss in return that he made a personal note in his head… hyperbole in bed is good. She enjoys that. Do that more.

You showed him how to prepare the toy, how it worked… Bucky thought he might come himself, watching you demonstrate. He settled between your knees and took over for you.

“So. This toy, plus this--” he thumbed your clit softly, in vague circles which floated the nerve endings just so. “You come for me. Yes?”

“God. Yes.”

“And then…”

“Then, I’ll be ready for you.”

Bucky started with two fingers as before--you were sensitive enough that he could feel how you relaxed, even as your body wanted to take more. Then, he tested the toy, dipping it into your opening while he gave your clit extra attention. An idea hit him--one he had a feeling you wouldn’t mind… he leaned down, watching your face for reaction, and kissed that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Swear to god,” you moaned. You bit your lip and he was home.

He mimicked the movement you had shown him for your clit with his tongue, offering a soft suck to the bundle every few strokes. You gasped, and he pushed the toy further into you. You took it so well, raising your hips in pleasure--Bucky needed you to come. He needed you to release so he could feel your core around him, already. He purposefully ignored his own issue but he was aching now.

He couldn’t take it. He ground his own hips into the mattress as he thrust the toy in and out, the taste of you and the lubricant mixing into a heady essence for his tongue. You gripped his hair when you were on the brink of orgasm. He moaned against you at the stimulation, and that was enough to send you over the edge. He sucked on your clit hard, flickering his tongue wildly to pull every last keen from you.

“Oh my god, you’re going to kill me,” you said, as he finally relented. He pulled the toy from you and wrapped it in a cloth you indicated in the drawer (by letting your hand fall to the side of the bed--there was no way you could make any coherent gestures for a moment).

Bucky sat back on his heels with a triumphant smile, wiping his mouth with his hand. “Was that okay?”

You opened your eyes to slits and glared at him. “You’re unreal. All I said was ‘I can’t do only penetration’ and you go down on me like you know my body better than anything. Christ, Bucky.”

He took in the sight of you--wet and sprawled, breathing heavy. “I’m an overachiever.”

“Cocky, too?” You gestured for him to lay beside you, and he did so readily. “Has a girl ever done that to you?”

He winced. “Um.”

You laughed. “So, yes.”

“It just didn’t seem gentlemanly to say.” He brushed your hair from your cheek. “But yes.”

“Where?”

“Doll--”

“In a car?”

He looked away and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Hmmm. Hot.”

He put his hands over his face. He wasn’t embarrassed to be talking about sex but it felt so weird talking to you about women he did things with two lifetimes ago, especially things he didn’t really remember. Except… he did remember that one. But. Not well? And it had been awkward at the time, and here he was--fuck.

Warmth and wetness surrounded his cock, and Bucky just about hip-checked you off the bed. Your hand grasped him around his base--your hand was slick, maybe from the oil--moving up and down, giving special deference to the vein which ran along the base.

Your tongue was heaven.

“Seven decades is a long time without an orgasm, baby.” You ran fingers up the inside of his thighs and back down again, with the points of your nails sending thrills of awareness through him.

“Please, please--oh love. I won’t last two minutes if you do that.”

You pulled away, kissing the tip of him. He glanced at you out of one eye. “Next time?”

“Might kill me, but yes. Please just come up here.” He laced his fingers with yours to help you balance yourself on either side of his waist.

“I’m still really sensitive,” you said softly. “Can you wait a minute?”

“I waited seventy years for you.” He tucked your hair behind your ears. “What's a minute or two?”

You wrinkled your nose, and cupped his chin. “I’m… really happy, Bucky.”

“Oh, love. I don’t know how I found you,” he said firmly, though he wasn’t sure he was capable of any other coherent thought at this point. “Through all the guilt, and the nightmares, at least at the end? You. You’re here. That--” Bucky pointed to the chair where Alpine was so undisturbed by your machinations that he was wheezing a tiny kitten snore. “That is our cat. This is our bed.”

“Mmmm. Yes it is.” You reached down between you to feel him and Bucky hissed. “You ready?”

“Yes. Here--” he swiped the lubricant from the bedside table, dripping a little pool into your waiting palm, and some into his own. He tossed it to the side, causing you to laugh. While you prepared him with sweet, gentle touches… Bucky used the slick oil to swirl around your nipples.

“This stuff is brilliant.”

You bit back a groan and gave him a warning glare, before tucking the head of his cock right where you needed him. He plucked at your nippes as you worked yourself onto him, slowly--he could’ve sworn he saw stars in your eyes. He certainly felt them in his own, the way every nerve in his body stood at attention. When your hip bones met his, he left oily finger tracks from your breasts to your thighs as his grip switched to hold you still. He just needed you to pause, just for a moment.

“Baby-doll, I am going to go off like a rocket if you move a muscle, but I will make it up to you--”

“You made me come so hard I think I burst a blood vessel. I don’t care. You feel incredible. Do you want to come?”

“Can’t disappoint you--”

“Are you kidding me?” You pressed your chest to his and ran a hand through his hair. “You coming would be a victory for my ego.”

“If you’re sure, I just… move, please, fuck what happens to me.” Bucky pushed himself up to sitting, with his right arm around your waist. You clung to his shoulders for purchase, both of you seeking a kiss to center yourselves. Bracing his left arm behind him on the mattress, he rolled his hips upwards.

You followed his movement, pulled at his hair, scratched his skin and made him lose all touch with reality. It did not take long for him to find his release and you canted your hips to grind down over him. From what he could glean, behind the white-out behind his eyes, and the way your sensitive walls clenched him in a vice, you found a second release. He forced his eyes open enough to see you touch yourself through the tail end.

Then, he hugged you so tight, his arm creaked.

“I… shit.”

You shook, laughing against his neck with a breathy sigh. “How you holding up?”

“I think I time-traveled just now.”

“You… fuck. You have about an hour before your flight leaves. Shower?” You nodded to the little digital clock above your door, the standard issue clock in every suite in the compound.

Bucky kissed your jaw. “I don’t care if it’s freezing cold, if you’re there and still naked, I am in.”

“Come on, loverboy.” You disentangled yourself from his arms, but pulled off of him with such care that you pressed your forehead to his before the groan of loss. He kissed your brow.

“Let me use the facilities… then you can come in, once the water is running.” You walked on wibbly knees all the way to the washroom. “And then I’m gonna wash you, okay?”

“You don’t gotta do that!” he called back.

You peered around the door jam. “Baby. It’s called aftercare. Let me take care of you.”

His heart felt like it was gonna burst for the seven-thousandth time that day. “Okay.”

You disappeared again and Bucky laid back on the bed, completely spread-eagle. Holy shit. All this, because the thought of calling you his wife made him… oh. That made him shiver. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d go to Wakanda and show Shuri how much he had healed, and then… when he was back? Well. He’d talk to Steve about an idea that was brewing at the back of his mind, to solidify a partnership with you beyond the bonds of owning a rescue kitten together. He turned over and looked at the tiny white ball of fluff.

“Take care of your Ma,” he whispered to the little unconscious thing. “When I come back…”

“Babe, you coming?” He was shaken back to Earth by your voice calling through the crack in the washroom door. The shower water was running, and he was not about to miss another second to be naked with you.

Part 5

Part 7

tag list: @peterhollandkait @morticiaofthedead @hogwartsahist0ry @harrietbaudelaire @general-kenobi357 @hawsx3 @subwaysurf45 @nahthanks

message, comment, or reblog with req to be added to the tag list! :)

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stabbed Heart - Chapter 4

Ayo took Birdie to visit James Buchanan Barnes the very next day while you were busy at your tailoring shop.

Ayo knocked on the door of the hut James made for himself in the remote part of Wakandan village.

“Hello James, how are you?” Ayo asked politely, seeing the red, swollen eyes of yet another victim of H.Y.D.R.A... Before James could reply, a small voice chimed in. His eyes shifted to the small child whose tiny palm was held in Ayo’s.

“Hello Mr James, I am Birdie. I am here to assist my aunt Ayo.” She extended her free hand for a polite handshake.

James kneeled in front of Birdie, shaking her hand. He got up smiling, greeting Ayo afterwards.

He invited them inside. Bucky knew Ayo was here to monitor his progress. Ayo sat Birdie on her lap, talking to James while Birdie observed the bearded man. Soon she got bored and ventured outside the hut.

“Birdie, stay within….”

“Your eyes reach… I know, Auntie,” she pouted cutely.

  ----

“James, we have undone the H.Y.D.R.A. programming. Nothing is stopping you from joining the civilization, and this isolation can be detrimental to your mental well-being. I want you to take the time to heal, but you need to mingle. This is not your life; you have friends and family who very much care about you. For their sake, I suggest you start socializing a bit.”

“I don’t know. I can still see the people I hurt, killed, tortured…I don’t think I fit in the society anymore...” Bucky let out his frustrations, his eyes tearing up with the images of the horrendous past.

“I know you are scared, which is why I visit you. I am living, breathing proof that you aren’t a danger to other people. We test you every week because you asked. How about we start small?”

Buck agreed. He had to start somewhere. Steve had been patient with him, letting him have this time to recuperate in peace. But sooner or later, he had to return to his country.

“We need to get you around people, but I know you hate crowds, which is where my precious angel Birdie comes. How about you make conversation with her about anything small and insignificant..?”

“Birdie…” Ayo called.

“I am here, Auntie” Birdie came running with a baby goat on her heels.

“And who is that, buttercup?”

“That’s my new friend, Meep-Meep.”

“Oh, she is beautiful...” Ayo commented.

Birdie looked at Bucky.

“Is it okay if Meep-Meep joins us?” Birdie asked shyly.

“Yes, it is” Bucky smiled.

“Do you have candy?” the doe-eyed angel-slash-demon asked.

“I don’t….” Bucky replied, feeling a bit bad about the lack of confectionery.

“Don’t worry, I do. I stole it from the kitchen counter….” Birdie says while handing him a piece of candy wrapped in paper.

“Thank you so much.”

“Auntie Ayo, do you want one?”

“No, buttercup, you can have that, but don’t tell your mother about it”, Ayo winked. Birdie smiled, nodding in agreement.

“You know I have a best friend who loves the candy almost as much as you do… We used to steal it from the royal kitchen..”

Birdie gasped dramatically. “You stole from Queen’s kitchen? Were you caught? How did you do that?”

“Birdie, he is not from Wakanda. He is from our allied country, the kingdom of Brooklyn.” Ayo intervened.

“Really??? What is the kingdom of Brook like?”

“Brook...Lynn.., Brooklynn”, Buck corrected.

“Brooklynn…” Birdie parroted, and the baby goat bleated in support.

“Are you a warrior like my auntie?”

“I am”

“But my auntie is the best warrior,” Birdie protested and ran into Ayo’s arms. Her brows furrowed with displeasure. She settled in Ayo’s lap with her arms crossed. Ayo kissed the back of Birdie’s head.

“I agree”, Bucky settled into his seat.

“Do you fight bad people too?” Birdie asked.

“I used to, with my buddies”, Bucky reminisced.

“Will you teach me? Auntie says I am too small,” Birdie asked him with hope-filled eyes.

“I will definitely. Do you know my best friend was small too, but he still fought will all the bullies in my school?”

“See, Auntie, I can fight too, just like Mr James' best friend.” Birdie turned around to inform Ayo animatedly.

“Are you excited to learn, my buttercup?” Ayo asked.

“I am!!! I am!!!” Birdie jumped up and down in excitement.

She ran and hugged Bucky in joy.

Bucky was stunned. It took him a moment to relax in the hold of the small child in his arms. Somehow a hug from this little girl made him feel all right. Meep-Meep came and stood behind Birdie, waiting for her hug.

Birdie pulled away and turned around to hug Meep-Meep.

“We are going to learn to fight Meep-Meep”, Birdie informed her new friend.

“When do we start?”

“Whenever you say, kiddo.”

“Can we start now?” Birdie asked eagerly.

“Buttercup, we have to reach home before dinner….” Ayo pointed out.

“But….” Birdie pouted.

“You can come here to learn whenever your mother allows, kiddo,” Buck interjected.

“Thank you, Mr James” she hugged him again.

“You’re welcome” smile graced Bucky’s face. Ayo was relieved to see a change in Bucky’s attitude.

Ayo grabbed Birdie’s small hand and bid goodbye to James, Birdie waving her free hand happily.

“Mumma…”

“Hi, my princess” Birdie ran into your arms excitedly.

“I assisted Auntie today… I made a new friend, Meep-Meep…Also, Mr James will teach me how to fight” she told you everything breathlessly.

You look to see Ayo mouthing, ‘It's going to be fine.’

“That’s great!” you feigned the excitement.

“Are you staying for dinner?” you asked Ayo.

“I have to be back at the palace. I have to prepare for some diplomatic visit.”

“When will you be back, Auntie?”

“I will be back very soon”, Ayo replied earnestly.

“I will miss you this much” Birdie spread her arms fully.

“I will miss you too, buttercup, be good for your Mumma.”

Birdie nodded. You hugged Ayo goodbye, telling her to be safe.

--

Writing Survey If you like it, kindly reblog.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love Is Not Forced ~ War

MASTERLIST

The following is a one shot for my series, Love Is Not Forced.

King!Steve Rogers x Queen!Stark!Reader

Word Count: 6,325ish

Summary: a war threatens the kingdoms

Warnings: talks about sex, war, character death

“And den uncle Bucky showed me the horses!” Tallen exclaimed as the small royal family sat down for dinner.

King Steven had been extremely busy with the kingdom all day and had unfortunately be unable to spend time with his wife and kids. So he was greatly enjoying his son’s story about how Bucky had taken him around the castle grounds.

“Oh really?” Steven chuckled. 

“Yeah!” Tallen continued. “And he even said that I could wide one one day!”

“That is true. Maybe in a few days, I can take you riding?”

Tallen gasped. “Did you hear that momma?! Daddy said he’d take me widing!”

“I did,” Y/N responded, sending a look to her husband. “As long as your father doesn’t go too fast and is very safe.”

“I would never be nothing but safe with my son. And that will give Madeline some time to spend her her mother.” Steven turned and smiled at his daughter. “Would you like that?”

“Ya!” Madeline said, clamping.

Suddenly, Bucky and Sam burst into the dining room. Everyone’s heads snapped to face them.

“Apologies, Your Majesties,” Sam said. “But, My King, there is a pressing matter.”

“Can it not wait?” Steven wondered. “I’m in the mid—“

“I’m afraid it cannot,” Bucky pressed.

Y/N and Steven shared a look. This was concerning to both of them, but Y/N knew that she must stay with the children while Steven is informed of the issue. Steven stood up. He ruffled Tallen’s hair and kissed Madeline’s head before going to his wife.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He kissed her forehead. “A King never sleeps.”

Y/N watched as the men left. She couldn’t let her mind stay on the matter for too long because she needed to distract the kids.

“Alright, children,” she turned back to them with a fake smile, “who wants dessert?”

~~~

Y/N had put the children to bed and was getting ready for be herself when her husband sulked into the room. She turned in the chair she was sitting in to face him. He was upset. There had been very few times since she’d known Steven that she’d seen him like this.

“Steven,” she called as he came to her, “what’s wrong?”

“There’s been an attack,” he sighed.

“What?” She stood up, her childhood suddenly replaying in her mind. An attack was never good. “Where?”

“Everywhere. One village from each kingdom has been attacked.”

“Is everyone okay? Which villages was it?”

“Y/N… it was Scott and Hope’s village.”

“No,” Y/N gasped. “Are they alright? Please tell me—“

“Them and Cassie were some of the few survivors. Each of the villages that were attacked were left with few survivors.”

“Just like my own village… How is this even possible?”

“There’s this new group. They call themselves the Children of Thanos.”

“How long have you known about them?” He looked away from her. “How long Steven?”

“About a year.”

“A year? Have they been attacking the kingdoms for that long?”

“Yes… but never like this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want it to bring up unwanted memories. They were attacking villages like how yours was attacked.”

“I still deserved to know, as Queen.”

“I know. I should have told you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The kingdoms are meeting together in Alexandria. We are preparing for war.”

“Oh gosh,” Y/N gasped, turning away. “That means… you all… you all have to go to war. Bucky, Sam, Thor, T’Challa… my brother Peter and my father… you… you have to go to war…”

Steven quickly turned Y/N around and held her head in his large hands. “I promise that I will come back to you and the children.”

Y/N was trying, and failing, not to get emotional. “You can’t promise that.”

“But I can. Y/N, my darling, have I ever not fought for you?”

“No… but this is different Steven. This is war… People die in war. Many people. And if you die… If you die—“

“If I die, you will rule Brooklyn until Tallen is of age. You will be the strong woman I know you are, for the kingdom. For our children.”

“I can’t.” Y/N shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks. “I can’t do it. Not without you.”

“Oh, my darling… you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“Please don’t do this… please don’t leave…”

“Y/N… you know I have no choice.”

She leaned up and kissed him, hard and desperate. “Then stay with me tonight. Don’t leave… not until morning.”

“I won’t. I promise.” He began kissing the tears off her cheeks. “I love you and I’m going to spend all night showing you just how much.”

~~~

The Queen woke up to an empty bed, which made her want to start sobbing. When she turned to face her husband’s side, she noticed a note. She carefully picked it up and unfolded it.

My darling Queen, 

I am so terribly sorry that I have failed this kingdom so much that war has come. All I have ever wanted was to protect it and its people. And once you and the children were involved, our family. I am also so sorry that I was such a coward as to not do this in person. If I would have seen you this morning, I probably wouldn’t have gone. And I need to. I need to fight to make all the kingdoms safe, to make our kingdom safe. I promise to come back to you and the children. No matter what.

I have already told Wanda and Natasha to let you rest and for them to focus on the children as much as you need. I know you and I know me. We do not do well without each other. I know though that you will pick yourself back up and be the woman, the Queen, I know you are.

You are my life, my darling. You are the reason I am fighting this war. I love you.

Forever yours, Steven

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she read. This was one of her worst nightmares. All her friends, her family—her husband, were being forced to go to war. A war in which many of them may never return. She covered her mouth as a sob racked through her body. There was a possibly she may never talk to her brother or father again. That Steven my never hold her. That made her heart ache. Y/N didn’t know if she could live with any of them gone. Especially her husband.

~~~

The Queen gave herself the day to stay in bed and be upset about it. But no more. Steven had given her the okay to do that as long as she’d like, though she knew she couldn’t. She had children and a kingdom that needed her.

The next morning, she made sure that her children were able to sleep in so that she could focus on the kingdom for a bit. Y/N ate lunch on the beach with her children. Wanda and Natasha had explained the situation the best that they could to them, but they were too young to fully understand why their father had left.

After lunch, Y/N went back to running the kingdom. She was very thankful that Brooklyn had always been so supportive and loving towards her. It made it easier to rule without Steven by her side, though she knew that he was still King and that he was still alive.

At night, she dined with her children in the dining hall. Her husband’s empty chair taunting her as she tried to keep her children’s mind off their father’s absence. Y/N insisted on tucking them in that night as well. Making sure they both were snug in their beds with a kiss left on their foreheads.

Everyday, Y/N kept this same routine. For her and her children’s sakes. All the staff tried their bests to kept an eye on their Queen, so that their King could be comforted. But there was no comforting either of them while they were separated. Wanda and Natasha could hear Y/N’s cries at night and see her tired eyes in the morning. She wasn’t sleeping, at least very well. That was obvious. It hurt all the castle staff to see their Queen in such a state. They could only imagine how their King was holding up.

~~~

“Six weeks of war is too long,” Thor sighed. “We must put an end to this.”

“What do you think we’ve been trying to do?” King Anthony retorted.

“Their armies grow in number everyday,” T’Challa said. “And we are still unable to figure out how.”

“Our spies are still in the midst of working,” Captain Barnes stated. “We must give them time.”

“We’re running out of time,” Prince Peter said. 

“I think that we should let this be for the night,” King Anthony said. “We can look at it again in the morning.” He glanced around. “Where is King Steven?”

“He is in his tent,” Captain Barnes answered. 

“Let me guess, missing my daughter?”

“You know as well as I that they do not do well apart.” The men headed out of the large meeting tent together.

“Has he sent a letter to her and the children yet?”

“No. He’s started hundreds of letters, but he’s never found them good enough.”

“Y/N cannot be taking that well.”

“No need to worry, Sam and I have been sending letters with updates.”

“I’m sure that’s not enough for her. Y/N doesn’t like being kept in the dark, especially by those closest to her. Do you know if she’s written back to Steven?”

“A few letters. They’re very short. We believe that some of them have been intercepted so we don’t know what to believe.”

“Well,” the men came to a stop in front of the King of Brooklyn’s tent, “I guess I better go in and see if I can be of any help.”

“Good luck, Your Majesty. You’re going to need it.”

King Anthony nodded before heading into the tent. He found his son-in-law sitting at his desk. Steven’s hair was disheveled and there were crumbled up papers all around the tent. He was grunting at he quickly wrote. Steven let out a frustrated growled before crumbling up the paper he was working on and throwing it towards King Anthony without looking.

“Woah!” King Anthony exclaimed as he dodged the paper. “Watch were you’re throwing those things.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” Steven sighed. “I just… I haven’t been able to—“

“All she wants to know is if you’re alive. Nothing else. You’re over thinking it.”

“I just… I’m so worried. What if one of these letters are my last words to her? And they’re terrible and they don’t fully express my undying love for her?”

“Wow. I’m trying to be okay with this but it’s just cringe worthy. You really love my daughter, for that I will always be grateful for. But what if you die and the last thing she has from you is that letter you left on the bed in your place? Do you want that?”

“No… of course I don’t. I just… I love her so much. And I love my children so much. I don’t want the last time they see may words be their last memory of me.”

King Anthony came up and put a hand on Steven’s shoulder. “Then we won’t let it. We’re going to win this war and both go home.”

~~~

The war continued on for six more weeks. Steven finally got the courage to send a letter to his Queen. It was very brief and very loving. Y/N cried upon receiving it. She had continued to rule her kingdom and mother her children with so much bravery and strength. No one could truly see the inner turmoil that was occurring due to the King being away. But Natasha and Wanda knew the truth. They chose to respect the Queen by not bringing it up, but they made sure that she knew they were there for her.

The kingdom of Brooklyn had heard that the war had been one, finally. Only by a knight, who had been commanded by all the kingdoms to not inform the Queen of any other information. This made her furious. It was clear that they were hiding something, which only could mean that someone had died. Y/N was failing to hide her extreme worry. She was pacing in the King’s study, while Lady Natasha tried to convince her not to do something drastic.

“My Queen,” a guard entered with a bow, “a group of our men have been seen heading towards the castle.”

Y/N paused her pacing. “Are you sure they’re ours?”

“Positive, Your Majesty.” 

“I need the doctors ready then, to check over everyone with injuries. No big crowds, I don’t want to pressure the soldiers. We’ll throw a celebration once everyone has been looked over and seen their families.”

“Of course.” 

“And I want my children taken care of. They don’t need to see what war looks like.”

“Anything for you, My Queen.”

“Do you… do you know if the King is with them?”

“Unfortunately, I do not. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I will go and inform everyone of your requirements.”

“Thank you.”

The guard bowed before taking his leave. Y/N began pacing again. That’s when Wanda entered the room.

“Would you like me to help you change, Your Majesty?” She asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head as she couldn’t along her path. “How close are they?”

“I would head out to meet them soon.”

“What if… what if he’s dead and no one’s telling me yet?”

“I’m sure the King is fine.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“Then you will take it one day at a time. Like you have learned to do.”

“Okay,” Y/N breathed out. “Let’s go. I do not want my soldiers to come home without their Queen there to welcome them.”

Wanda escorted her Queen down to the main entrance of the castle. The doctors that were ordered were already there, with very few servants and guards joining them. Lady Natasha joined them shortly after. Y/N was hardly breathing by the time the first soldiers came through the gate. They looked tired and beat up, but they would survive. More and more soldiers came through, getting off the horses to be taken care of.

“Where is he?” Y/N whispered, trying to stay strong. “He should have been in front… a King always leads his people home.”

“Y/N,” Wanda said softly, feeling bad for her Queen.

“Something’s wrong.”

After a few more rows of soldiers, Captain Barnes and Lord Wilson appeared on their horses. Natasha gasped, relieved to see her husband alive. Bucky couldn’t jump down from his horse fast enough. He almost fell flat on his face s he hurried to his wife. They embraced, tears strolling down their checks, before they kissed. So longingly, so lovingly. Y/N’s eyes filled with tears.

“My Queen,” Sam greeted as he came before her and bowed.

“Sam,” Y/N rasped, barely being able to speak. “I’m glad to see you in one piece.” She paused, swallowing harshly. “Is… Just tell me… Where is Steven?”

It broke Sam’s heart to hear the Queen so weak. Though she wasn’t asking as a Queen, she was asking as a wife. A wife and a mother.

“The last battle was the toughest one of them all,” Sam began to explain. He glanced at Bucky, who walked over with Natasha glued to his side. “We gave everything we had.”

“Please don’t tell me that he…” Y/N couldn’t stop the tears. She didn’t care to anymore.

“He got injured badly. We found him after the war was won.”

“Sam,” she growled. “Stop stalling. Where is my husband?”

“He’s in Wakanda,” Bucky told her. “It was closer than bringing him here.”

“So, he’s—“

“Steven is still alive, barely. We came back to take over the kingdom while you went to him.”

Y/N rushed away, heading for Bucky’s horse. “Take care of my children.”

“Y/N, wait. You need to—“

“I need to see my husband. T’Challa will take care of everything for me.” Even in her large dress, she swung easily onto the horse. “I’ll send for my children when the time comes.”

“You cannot go alone.”

“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” She clicked and hit her heels against the horse. She and the horse were gone in a blink of an eye.

“You two!” Bucky yelled at two guards on horses. “Follow after the Queen. Don’t stop her but make sure she’s save.”

The guards nodded and were off. Bucky sighed before looking at Sam. Wanda and Natasha could both tell there was something else that had happened.

“Buck,” Natasha said softly. “What happened? What aren’t you saying?”

“We lost a King, Nat,” he whispered. Both him and Sam looking down at their feet. 

“What?” Both women gasped.

“Steven is only alive because of that King’s sacrifice.”

“Who was is?” Wanda asked.

“She’s going to be devastated…” Sam added. “Especially if Steven doesn’t make it.”

“No.” Wanda shook her head. “Please don’t tell me it was—“

“King Anthony,” Bucky interrupted. “He sacrificed his life so that Steven could come home to Y/N and the children.”

~~~

The ride was tiresome but Y/N didn’t stop until she reached Wakanda’s palace. T’Challa was already out front when she arrived, his boarder guards having warned him. Y/N jumped of the horse before it had even come to a full stop. Her friend was saddened at the state of her appearance, dirty and desperate. 

“Where is he?” Y/N asked, running up to T’Challa. “Where’s Steven?”

“Y/N, please, come inside and get cleaned up,” T’Challa kindly requested. He was worried for his friend. The kingdoms had made an agreement not to tell Y/N what had happened to her father until after Steven had gotten better. If he’d get better. “Get something to eat and rest. I’m sure your ride wasn’t easy.” He reached out to try and guide Y/N inside but she jerked away.

“No. I want to see my husband.”

“I will gladly take you to him, once you have rested.”

“Do you think I’ve gotten any rest since he left for the war?! I cannot rest without him and I will not do anything until I see him.” She gasped for breath, like she could break down into sobs any second. “T’Challa, please… at least… tell me he’s still alive.”

“Steven is still alive. He’s hanging in there.”

“I need to see him.” Her voice was that of a broken woman. Pleading for the thing to keep her life going. “Please, T’Challa.”

“I can take you to the room, but you cannot go inside. Only those taking care of him can go. But if I do this, then you will go get rested and cleaned up after seeing him. I will not let you lose yourself in the midst of all this. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I just need to see him.”

T’Challa stared at her for a silent, brief moment. “Okay.” He linked his arm through hers. “Let’s go.”

With each step, Y/N began to tremble more. T’Challa took notice and gradually took more and more of Y/N’s weight against him. By the time they reached the window, he was practically holding Y/N up. As they came closer to the window, Y/N inhaled sharply. There Steven lay, nurses and doctors working around him. He was practically naked besides the bandages covering some of the worse injuries. His face was marked up with cuts and his beard had been shaven off. In all her years of knowing her husband, Y/N had never seen Steven without some facial hair. It was strange, and a little heartbreaking to her.

“Steven,” Y/N cried quietly. She pressed a hand on the glass, craving to touch him. “Oh, Steven…”

“I have my best people working on him,” T’Challa informed her, tone soft and caring. “They will do everything they can.”

“I can’t—“ She stopped as a sob threatened to bubble up her throat. “I can’t lose him, T’Challa. I can’t…”

T’Challa pulled her into his chest, cradling her head as he held her close. “You won’t… you won’t…”

The King of Wakanda’s heart was breaking for his friend. She was telling him that she couldn’t handle losing him, while she had no idea that she had lost the other most important man in her life. He wanted to tell her, she deserved to know. But what if he told her and then Steven didn’t recover? What would become of the Queen? What would become of Brooklyn?

“Now, you’ve seen him. It’s time you rest,” T’Challa said, beginning to led Y/N away. “I will show you to your room.”

All the Queen could do was nod. She was tired and worried that she’d just break down right there if she opened her mouth. So she let T’Challa help her to a room and she let his people help her get cleaned up and tucked it. But Y/N didn’t sleep. She couldn’t. Not with her husband’s life hanging in the balance.

~~~

It had been two days since Y/N had arrived in Wakanda. In that time she had only since her husband through the window twice, not including that first initial time. She spent the rest of the time either in her room or wandering the palace. Y/N was currently wandering the ballroom, the Queen Mother and the King of Wakanda watching her from a balcony above.

“You cannot wait to tell her any longer,” the Queen Mother whispered. “She needs to know about her Father. Queen Virginia needs her daughter with her as she plans the funeral.”

“The kingdoms agreed not to tell her until after Steven was well,” T’Challa responded. “And I will stick to the plan as long as I can.”

“And if Steven doesn’t survive? Will you be the one to tell her that the two most important men in her life are gone?”

“I will do what has to be done as a friend and king.”

“Have you heard anything about her children?”

“Captain Barnes and Lord Wilson each send a letter every day. To both me and the Queen. They are waiting for the letter that will allow them to bring the children here. They are confused and missing their parents.”

“Have you suggested that they bring the children to Alexandria? It may help Virginia and Peter with their grief.”

“I have not. I will in the next response to them.”

“My King!” A guard rushed up to T’Challa and the Queen Mother. It was loud enough for Y/N to take notice. “Steven is awake and he is asking for his wife.”

Before T’Challa could say anything to Y/N, she was running out of the ballroom towards Steven’s room. Tears were trailing down her checks before she even arrived. She stalled in the doorway, taking note of how her husband was sitting up. His eyes were closed and bandages were still littering his body. A blanket was rested on him, up to his chest. He looked so peaceful. Y/N choked on a sob, hand coming to cover her mouth. Steven’s eyes fluttered open after hearing the choked sob.

“My darling,” he rasped, a small smile forming. Y/N stood, sobbing in the doorway, unable to move. “Come here.” He motioned with his hand outstretched. She couldn’t get herself to move. “Darling, I would come over if I could… Please, I need to touch you.”

Steven could clearly see how shaky Y/N was as she tried not to stumble over. It was breaking his heart how tired and worn out she looked, especially because it was all his fault. Though she was still the most beautiful person in the world. Steven winced as Y/N collapsed onto his chest, crying into his neck. He was quick to wrap his arms around her. Three months was far too long to be apart from his wife. He vowed to himself right then that he would never let it happen again.

“Sssshhhh, my darling,” he cooed. “I’m here now. It’s all going to be okay.”

Then Steven suddenly remembered that it wouldn’t. Y/N’s father had still died to save him. Princess Shuri was in his room when he woke. He had asked for his wife and how she was doing immediately. Shuri was honest and told him what the kingdoms had decided on waiting to tell Y/N about King Anthony until Steven was better. 

“I thought—“ Y/N cut herself off through her tears. “I thought the worst had happened.”

“I know… I’m so sorry about that,” he comforted.

Y/N pushed herself away slightly, so that she could look at him. “I was so worried.”

Steven’s large hand came up and cupped her face, his thumb rubbing across the large, purple bags under her eyes. “I can tell. And you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.” He guided her in for a tender kiss. “I’m so sorry that I worried you.” He gave her another kiss. “Where are the kids?”

“Back home. I’m sure T’Challa is sending word for them to be brought.” She reached up and brushed some fallen hair out of his face. “I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” Y/N met his eyes and he was staring intently at her. There was something in his eyes, an immense sadness. Something he wasn’t telling her. “What is it?” He looked away, clearly gathering himself. “Steven.” Y/N guided his head to face her. “Tell me.”

Steven sighed as he held Y/N closer to him. “I need to tell you something.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I was fighting off the group leader, Thanos. I had already gotten injured trying to get to him. But he injured me more… I…” Steven paused to swallow. “He knocked my sword from me and was about to stab my heart when someone jumped in front of me…”

Y/N sat up straighter. “Who jumped in front of you?”

“Y/N, my darling… I’m so sorry… He did it before I could stop him. He—“

“Who jumped in front of you?” She asked again, almost growling as tears quickly filled her eyes. 

“Your Father.”

“No!” Y/N gasped, shaking her head. “No!"

“I’m so sorry.”

“You’re lying! He can’t be dead! This is some cruel joke!”

“I wish it were, my darling… as he laid dying he told me how much he loved you and how proud he is of you.”

“Stop it…”

“And he told me that all he ever wanted was for me to go home to you and the children. He made that possible.” Steven cupped Y/N’s face. “Your Father saved me so that I could come home to you.”

“N-n-n-ooo… Father…” 

Steven pulled his wife into his chest, trying to consul her. There wasn’t enough words to explain how awful he felt. He was the reason that his wife’s father wouldn’t be coming home. And he was the one who had to tell her. Now, when his children arrived, Steven would have to explain why they wouldn’t be able to see their grandfather again.

~~~

Y/N fell asleep on top of her husband, exhausted from crying so much. Reluctantly, Steven allowed the nurses to move his wife onto a bed beside him so that they could check his injuries. He held onto Y/N’s hand through it all, not wanting to separate from her after so long apart.

When Y/N woke, it was clear that she wasn’t okay. She was staring blankly and not answering when spoken to. Steven tried and tried, only to get a blank stare. Like she was seeing right through him. Bucky and Nat brought Tallen and Madeline the next day. Steven and the kids had a joyous reunion until Tallen asked about where Y/N was and Steven had to try and explain what happened, in the gentlest of terms. Tallen was confused and Madeline didn’t understand at all, just crying out for her mother. 

Y/N had been moved to a different room for the sake of her children. T’Challa was with her, trying to get her to respond. But to no avail. Queen Virginia had sent word about when the funeral was and it was decided that it was time to head to Alexandria. T’Challa, the Queen Mother (Ramonda), and Shuri road in a carriage with the children while Steven road with Y/N in a separate one. He held her close the whole time as he tried to think of ways to help his wife.

Queen Virginia and Prince Peter were awaiting the carriages when they arrived. Surprisingly, Y/N was the first one out. She gave her family quick hugs before disappearing. Steven rushed after her.

“Y/N!” He called chasing after her. She picked up her pace. “My darling, please!”

Y/N made a sharp turn into a hallway and headed to a guarded doorway. Giving them a look, the guards understood what to do. The blocked the doorway after Y/N rushed up the stairs.

“Y/N!” Steven tried again. “Let me through,” he demanded the guards. 

“I’m sorry,” one of the guards said. “We are under strict orders not to let anyone but the Princ—the Queen of Brooklyn up into her tower.”

“I am her husband and the King of Brooklyn, I have the right to go up there.”

“Steven,” Pepper called. “They won’t let up. Tony trained them well.” She sighed as Steven turned around to face her. “T’Challa warned me about how she was doing. I figured she would rush to her tower. Tony was the only member of the family always allowed up there. Now that he’s gone… I’m sorry Steven.”

“I just want to help her… we’ve been apart for too long and it’s… it’s my fault that Tony is dead.”

“Do not say that.” Pepper stepped closer to him. “Tony knew what he was doing. He knew that you coming home was more important than him coming home… Tony knew something was going to happen before he even left. I knew he was saying goodbye forever as he got ready to leave. So it wasn’t your fault, Steven. Don’t tarnish his act of bravery with your guilt.”

“I’m sorry Pepper.”

She gave her son-in-law a forced smile. “It’s okay… I’m going to go take care of my grandchildren, so that you can try to get to Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

~~~

Y/N stood frozen at the top of the stairs, looking around her tower full of memories. She was trying to gain strength to move in further. But it was so hard. After a few excruciating minutes, she finally took a shaking step into the tower. It wasn’t as dusty as Y/N thought it would be. Clearly, someone had been charged with cleaning it. She slowly walked around the room, running her fingers along the furniture. As she rounded to the desk, she noticed a letter. It was addressed to ‘My Princess’. Trembling, Y/N picked up the letter and sat on her bed. Tears formed as she opened it.

My Princess,

I know that you are now a Queen, which makes me extremely proud, but you will always be My Princess. I am writing this from the battlefield of war. And if everything goes how I think it will, then Captain Rhodes will deliver this to your tower where I know you will be after returning to Alexandria.

I am so sorry. For everything. For allowing Hydra to burn your village, for keeping secrets from you and plotting your future without you. And I am so sorry for how I died. It was probably stupid and heroic, and it was probably for you. Which is perfectly fine because I am so proud of you and you deserve all the happiness in the world.

I know I shouldn’t be smug about you and Steven having got together. Especially since how you got together was clearly on your terms and no one else’s. But I was right. You and him are a wonderful match. And your children are absolutely beautiful. I only wish that I could see them grow up. I know that will be one of my only regrets, leaving them. Leaving all my family behind. But if it meant Steven coming home to you, then my sacrifice will always be worth it.

I love you and am so proud of you, My Princess. You are a wonderful daughter, wife, mother, and Queen. Saving you and Peter and making you two my own will forever be the greatest thing I have ever done. (Besides marrying your Mother of course.)

Thank you for making me a Father.

Love, your Father, Tony

Y/N was crying all through the letter. How could her Father have known that he was going to die and not tell her? She would have rushed to say goodbye, to give him one last hug. And her children would grow up with no memories of their grandfather. How was she suppose to handle it all?

~~~

Steven waited at the door leading to her tower. The guards being ever faithful at their post. Queen Virginia had servants bring a small table and chair for the King. But he couldn’t sit, he kept pacing at the door, occasionally pausing to see if he could hear any moment from the tower. Dinner was brought for the couple as the guards got changed.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” Steven called from the bottom of the stairs. “Dinner’s here. Can I please come bring it up to you?” No answer. He sighed. “It will be down here when you’re ready.” 

As he turned to place the tray of food on the small table, Steven heard movement from the top of the tower. He paused, just in case he was hearing things.

“Steven,” her soft voice sounded. He perked up and went back to the doorway. “You can come up.”

He didn’t waste a second. Taking the tray of food with him, Steven hurried up the stairs. Even after all these years, he had still never been invited up to Y/N’s tower. It was always her space and he understood the need to have something for yourself. When he arrived at the top of the stairs, he found Y/N sitting at her desk.

“Hello,” she greeted solemnly.

“Hello, my darling,” he replied. He walked over to the bed and sat, placing the tray beside him. “What can I do for you?”

Y/N smiled slightly with a soft scoff. “You just barely heal up from war and you’re asking what you can do for me.” She reached out and took one of his hands. “You’re too good to me.”

“It’s the least I can do… you’re too good to me.”

“I’m sorry for shutting you out. I just—“

“My darling, there is no need to explain. I completely understand. I was the same way when I lost my parents.”

“That’s the thing. I did lose my parents. I felt the grief and loss of them. He was just… he was just my real Father and it hurt so much to find out he was gone.”

“I didn’t even think of that. I can’t even imagine losing two sets of parents.”

“Father left me this.” Y/N’s free hand was laying on top of a letter on the desk. “He knew he wasn’t going to survive the war… I think… I think what hurts the most was that he got to do a goodbye, prepare himself… but I didn’t get to.”

“Tomorrow, at the funeral, that’s your chance to say goodbye. I know it’s not the same, but it’s something.” He pulled his wife into his lap. “You’re going to get through this. You’ve gone through so much and you only come out stronger, which never seises to amaze me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Steven gave her a soft kiss. Y/N hungrily responded, wanting to me close to him, wanting to feel him. He chuckled as he pushed her away slightly and her lips chased after his.

“You need to eat,” he said. “We’ll eat together and then we can have our reunion.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat,” she responded softly. “I just missed you so much and it’s been so long.”

“Patience, my darling. We will eat and then have our fun.”

~~~

The funeral went beautifully, with Queen Virginia, Queen Y/N, King Steven, and Prince Peter each speaking. All the kingdoms were in attendance, mourning the loss of the great leader. Steven and Y/N and their family went home the next day. Queen Virginia had asked them to take a wreath with them, and Y/N knew exactly what to do with it. 

Exiting the carriages upon arriving back in Brooklyn, Y/N and Steven took their children and the wreath and headed for the beach. With a tired child in each arm, they trudged through the sand all the way to the pier. At the end of the pier, Y/N leaned down with Madeline and pushed the wreath out into the water. Steven wrapped his free arm around his wife’s waist, pulling her and Madeline into him. They watched as the sea took the wreath out, thinking about the life they lost and the future ahead.

[freddie-weaselbee]

Real//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, I think that’s it ?

Summary: One small favor. A trade. That was all it was. Mutually beneficial! Until things between Fred and Y/N and their new relationship get a little more complicated and cause too many prying eyes. 

Prompts: Fake Dating with dialogue prompts “we could have prevented this!” and “did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Day 3 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

 “I’ve made my list of rules which you will abide by and under no circumstances will be broken. Number 1: this ruse does not leave the shop. I don’t want random people on the street questioning me because you couldn’t keep your huge mouth shut. Number 2: I will allow you to kiss me on the cheek and forehead as  often as you like, within reason of course, and you can give me a peck on the lips 3 times in total. I will keep track. And Number 3: Don’t take up the entire bed any more or I will be forced to push you onto the floor. Sound good?”

“Bloody hell, you are crazy aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit.”

Fred was starting to regret his previous decision of making this arrangement with you, but a jingle of his shop bell and glance at who was walking in quickly made those feelings disappear. 

“Deal,” he said, eyes not leaving the woman who had just entered. “But we start right now and I want one of those kisses.”

You looked up at your friend, confused at his sudden nerves before you followed his line of sight and understood immediately. You sighed and ruffled your hair a bit, looking for a mirror to fix your makeup. “I’m on it, give me a few minutes.”

Fred nodded, still watching his target walk slowly through the aisles of his store. As she turned a corner you ducked into the back office, waiting for a good time to reemerge. 

“Freddie!” A high pitched voice pierced through the ear, equal parts flirtatious and absolutely unbearable. Fred glanced up, pretending not to have noticed the girl before. Putting on a fake smile, he set down the product he was pretending to tinker with and placed his hands on the counter table. 

“Brooklyn, hi! How are you?” he asked, hoping his fake politeness would pass as genuine. 

“Ugh I am so good. So SO good actually,” she said, twisting a finger through her hair. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! I’m so glad you received my letter, I was hoping we could catch up, maybe over dinner sometime? I’ve had so many fine young men ask me out over the last few months, but none of them seemed to compare to you, my little Freddie Bear.”

He winced at the nickname, it bringing an onslaught of unwanted memories that he had desperately tried to forget. Brooklyn bit her lip and placed a hand on top of Fred’s, leaning in to accentuate her breasts and make sure Fred got a good whiff of her new perfume. 

Very calmly, Fred placed his other hand on top of hers, now sandwiched in between his strong grip. “Brooklyn,” he said, faking sympathy, “you’re a lovely girl, and I’m sure any guy would be lucky to have you, but--”

“Hey, love!” 

A voice interrupted Fred’s rejection, making a very surprised Brooklyn become absolutely enraged as she witnessed you come up and place a chaste kiss on Fred’s lips, smiling into him. Fred pulled his hands from Brooklyn’s grip and placed it instead on your hip, pulling you into him and placing another peck on your forehead. You both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes before a harsh cough stole your attention. 

“And who is this?” Brooklyn asked, arms crossed angrily. She was glaring daggers at you, not even trying to fake sweetness for Fred’s sake. 

Keeping his hand on your waist, Fred turned back to the girl who seemed as though she was about to explode. “That’s what I was trying to tell you Brooklyn,” he said, trying to keep his smile as pitiful as he could without it drawing suspicion. “This is Y/N, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

You nuzzled into Fred’s chest for half a second before reaching a hand out to Brooklyn. “It’s so nice to meet you! Brooklyn, was it? I don’t think Fred’s ever mentioned you before, are you one of his childhood friends. Cousin, maybe?”

That had done it and you and Fred both knew it. He subtly fist bumped you under the counter as you watched the girl’s face become redder than Fred’s hair. 

She opened her mouth before taking a huge breath and stepping back. “No, actually,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m his ex-girlfriend. I left him to move on to much better things. Speaking of which--” she flipped her hair and smoothed out her skirt, straightening her posture to try to keep what little dignity she had left, “--I actually have a date. With a dragon trainer no less, and a very renowned one.”

“Oh really?” Fred asked. “That’s amazing. My brother, Charlie, is a dragon trainer as well, and he’s very well known in the community. May I ask the name of the lucky young man? Maybe Charlie knows him.”

Caught very off guard, Brooklyn rolled her eyes and turned to face the door. “That’s none of your business. I better be going, before we’re late to dinner at a very nice place, somewhere the likes of you most likely couldn’t afford.”

You felt Fred stiffen next to you and you squeezed his hand gently. “Have a nice time! It was lovely to meet you Bridget.”

“It’s Brooklyn,” she seethed. 

“Oh right, silly me,” you said, shaking your head. “Bye!”

As Brooklyn sauntered out of the store, you turned to Fred and whispered seductively, just loud enough for the exiting girl to hear. “How about we have a nice night in tonight? I got something the other day that I’d love for you to see. Maybe after seeing it you’ll make me scream even louder than last night.” Fred’s face began to grow red and he had to discreetly adjust his pants, hoping you didn’t notice exactly what your words were doing to him. 

Brooklyn slammed the door and practically ran down the cobbled streets, only screaming when she thought she was far enough away to not be heard. You and Fred both waited a few seconds before cheering and hugging each other, him patting you on the back for a great performance. 

“Y/N! That was incredible! I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you said, “I’m amazing, I know.” You smiled up at him completing the high five he was waiting on. “When you told me you needed help with a crazy ex I didn’t know you  meant like actually crazy. She’s insane! How did you put up with her for so long?”

Fred shrugged, jumping up onto the counter. “She was hot and I was horny. Not much else to it.”

You rolled your eyes, jumping up to join him. A few days ago you wouldn’t have been nearly comfortable enough to lounge out on the shop’s counters like you were now, but that was before you were a permanent resident of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Before you and Fred had made the deal. 

“You want me to do what?”

“Please, Y/N, it would only be for a little while until this all dies down, I swear!”

You groaned and rubbed your temple, wondering how in the world a friendly visit to your friend’s shop would turn into something with much more commitment. 

“You’re telling me that you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Why on earth would you need that?”

You were pacing around the shop, trying to avoid customers as to not involve them in this very personal conversation. Fred followed you, pleading for you to help him like the great friend you were. 

“I told you,” he said, “after The Daily Prophet did that expo on the shop and made me and George out to be rich sexy businessmen, and I mean where’s the lie, all of my crazy exes have been sending me letters and trying to get back with me. I can’t stand it, there’s so many!”

“Yeah, you were never one for long-term relationships, were you?”

Fred hmphed but quickly picked up with his pleading once again. “You don’t understand, Y/N, it’s absolutely unbearable. It’s common knowledge that George and Angie have been going steady for years now, so he’s got pretty much no one after him. But me? I can’t handle it.”

He dramatically threw himself on one of the empty product tables, causing a couple kids to glance in your direction before quickly becoming distracted by one of the exploding jokes across the shop. 

“Oh, woe is me, I have too many beautiful women throwing themselves at me, whatever am I to do?” you mocked, earning a nasty glare from your friend. 

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t of upmost importance,” he said, straightening his tie and assuming a more business-like manner. “Those girls are crazy. Hot, yes, but crazy. And all you have to do is pretend to be dating me for a few weeks, a month at best! What do you say?”

“And what do I get out of this?” you asked. Usually, you’d never say no to helping a friend, especially Fred, but pretending to date him and having him practically use you to make other girls mad? You didn’t like the idea in the slightest. Well, maybe seeing the mad girls would be a bonus. You never cared much for most of the girls Fred went out with. 

Fred’s face turned into an upward grin as he rolled his sleeves up and leaned forward. “I was hoping you’d say that. I hear that you’re looking for a place to stay, is that right?”

You nodded hesitantly, having an idea of where he was going. 

“Well,” he said, pacing back and forth, “to keep up this charade we’ll need to convince everyone, including George and Angelina. You see, Angie’s friends with Alicia, one of the girls who’s been constantly OWLing me, and if she knew this was fake then she’d blow our cover for sure. Which means…”

You gulped. 

“You’d have the pleasure of sharing the loft with me. You’d get a room, shared with me, and a nice living space all rent-free, and all you have to do is act all lovey-dovey and occasionally snog me. That sounds like an offer you can’t refuse.”

Unfortunately, he was right. You were tight on money at the moment and really had no other options. It was a deal you had to make if you wanted to stay afloat, no matter how much annoyance and embarrassment it would cost you. 

Sighing, you let your shoulders slump, a sign of defeat. “You do know how to negotiate, don’t you?”

“Well I am a businessman.” Fred stuck out his hand, and with a slow, drawn out motion, you shook it. 

It was the 4th night of living with the Weasley twins, or maybe 5th? The nights all seemed to blend together as you’d been having more fun than you had since Hogwarts. George and Angelina didn’t seem surprised at all when you and Fred told them your made up story about how you and Fred started seeing each other. In fact, they both said they always knew it would happen. You and Fred shared a laugh about that in bed that night, before he decided to take up all of the space on the small piece of furniture, prompting you to write your third rule. 

Overall, it had been a great experience. Couples game night, movie marathons, gossip sessions with Angelina about you and Fred’s sex life (which you didn’t have to fabricate too much, you already knew too much from the incredible amounts of detail he used to provide about his dates with other girls). It was like being thrown back into a dorm room, and your old teenage self was starting to shine through again. 

You stared at yourself in Fred’s bathroom mirror, very proud of how you handled Brooklyn earlier that day. She was one of the few girlfriends of Fred’s you never got to meet, probably because they only dated for a short period of time before she left him for the first rich snob to bat an eye at her. Out of everyone you could think of that he dated, she was by far the worst, which meant the next few days would probably be more difficult. It was easy making that bitch angry with smoke coming from her ears, but you didn’t know how good you’d feel about lying to someone a lot nicer than she was. 

After brushing your teeth and donning your pajamas, your Hogwarts house colors of course, you crawled into bed and joined Fred, who was reading one of the novels you had recommended to him. “You like it so far?” you asked. 

Fred took off his reading glasses and nodded, setting a bookmark in the book before placing it on his nightstand. “Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t think it would be my thing, but so far it’s actually really good.”

“Told ya,” you said as you laid down beside him. You and Fred were comfortable enough to share a bed with few problems except for his stupid long legs. You’d been friends for years and had grown way too comfortable with each other, so squeezing together each night wasn’t too out of the ordinary. 

As you snuggled into the covers, Fred following suit, you mentally went over the schedule for the week. 

“How many girls are there again?” 

Fred paused for a moment, trying to remember what he had sent to each girl. “A few I was able to ward off via letter, the more sane ones, but there are still two more girls who insisted they pay me a visit. Addison’s coming tomorrow and Alicia the day after that.”

You nodded, although you ducted Fred could see it from his position. “Got it. Addison’s sweet, I liked her.”

Fred scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he had started doing while you two slept. It was nothing more than platonic, Fred was just a touchy person. You told yourself he would do this with any semi-attractive girl laying in his bed. 

“Yeah, sweet girl all right, until you come home to your entire apartment torn apart cuz she thought you were cheating on her because apparently you ‘took an extra 12 minutes of lunch break and it seemed awfully suspicious.’”

Your body reverberated with a small giggle, remembering how Fred had to crash with you at your old place while he was trying to replace all the furniture she had literally torn up. “That’s right, she’s almost as crazy as I am.”

“Almost.”

You wouldn’t have a hard time lying to Addison, you decided. It was actually kind of fun when you did it with Brooklyn. You could get really creative with this one. 

You released a deep breath and closed your eyes, nestling back into Fred as he spooned you, claiming it was the only way he wouldn’t sprawl out and kick you in your sleep, which you knew was a lie. He’d find a way to kick you somehow. The git always did. 

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

“That was surprisingly better than expected!”

You nodded gleefully, handing Fred a scone and coffee that you had picked up from a nearby bakery. Scaring off Addison had been even more fun than Brooklyn, you and Fred really getting into character and being as lovey dovey as possible. She seemed to take it well, but you wouldn’t be surprised if she triggered the security system tonight trying to break in and destroy the shop. 

“And if I’m being honest it was actually kind of fun,” you told him, settling in behind the counter. 

You raised your muffin to your mouth to take a bite but Fred’s huge mouth snagged a taste before you could, bending down and taking a chunk out before you could have any. “That’s disgusting,” but you had no disgust lingering in your tone. 

“I agree,” he said through mouthfuls of muffin. “It was an excellent way to spend the morning. Bloody hell she would not leave!”

“At least she was nice about it.”

Fred reluctantly agreed before making another move to your muffin, one that this time you anticipated and you swatted his nose with a nearby newspaper. “You have your own, you greedy pig.”

He yanked the paper from your hand, using it as a napkin before the front page caught his eye. He quickly crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a nearby waste bin, something you wouldn’t have been suspicious of had he not done it so nervously. 

“Fred, what’s in the paper today?”

He shifted to put himself in between you and the wastebin, his tall figure looming over you. “Not important, just more junk that no one cares about.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. “Frederick Weasley you move this instant.” You tried pushing him out of the way but it was like moving an annoying ginger stone wall. Trying another approach, you darted to the left before doubling back and running right, but before you made it two steps he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Fred!”

You wiggled with all your might and finally made it out of his grasp, snatching the paper and unfolding it to read the headline. 

Diagon Alley Playboy Finally Settling Down? Or Is Y/N L/N Just Another of Fred Weasley’s One Night Stands?

The color drained from your face and you slowly lowered the paper, reading the front page again and again. Attached was a blurry picture of you and Fred from the day before with you tucked into the side. The buggers at The Daily Prophet must’ve caught it through the store window. 

“I’m sorry,” Fred said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I tried to keep things quiet, but I guess the press always finds a way in.”

You rubbed your temple slowly, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach. After seeing Harry Potter be brutally torn apart by the press for years, the last thing you wanted was rumors about you going around. 

"We could have prevented this!” you exclaimed, slamming the paper onto the desk. “This is complete bullshit. We’re not even dating! I swear I’m going to march straight to their office and--”

“Don’t bother,” Fred said, completely exasperated by the constant coverage of his family. “It does absolutely nothing, trust me. As a close relative to a professional Quidditch player, The Chosen One himself, and his two best friends who literally saved the world, we’ve learned that nothing will keep them away. Especially since they pinned me as the player of the Weasley family.”

“But you’re not!” you said, getting angrier by the second. “So your relationships don’t last long, so what? You’re not some womanizing piece of shit that the papers say you are!”

Chuckling, Fred replied. “I know that, and you know that. But the rest of the world wants drama, so if they want to think I have a new girl in my bed every night I’ll let them.” He shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to,” you grumbled. “You’re one of the best people I know, and the world should know it too.”

Catching you off guard, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a head lay on your shoulder. “It’s ok, love, just one more day and then you can stay out of the papers forever, I promise.”

Sighing, you turned to face him and let a small smile shine through. “Thanks. But I still think it’s absolute rubbish what they’re doing to your character.”

“Me too, but at least you know what a charming and caring gentleman I am and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww,” you coed, “you love me don’t you?”

“Shh, don’t let the press hear! It’ll ruin the image they worked so hard to create.”

You hit your head against Fred’s chest. “Only one more day of this. One more to go.”

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

“Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

“What?” You were so busy trying to find something to wear that you had barely heard what Fred said. 

“Last night, when you fell asleep. You said something funny.” He was sitting on the bed, adjusting his work tie and pulling on his socks and shoes. He looked...confused. Like he was trying to solve a complicated problem and he just couldn’t git the pieces together. 

“Oh?” you said, growing nervous. Had you dreamt last night? You were racking your brain, hoping you hadn’t said something embarrassing. 

You definitely had a dream, and Fred was there. You were at the shop...and Alicia came in! And…

“You were saying ‘Alicia, no, Fred’s mine not yours, I love Fred,” and umm, other stuff like that.” His face was heating up by the second, as was yours. 

“Really?” you said through awkward laughs. “Must’ve been preparing for today, huh?”

Fred said nothing, instead choosing to focus on retying his shoes. 

“Well,” you said, finally picking out your outfit, “I’m going to change, I’ll meet you down there later, ok?”

He nodded, still confused, and you rushed to use his bathroom before things could get more awkward. 

You decided to take a nice, long shower to cool down, hoping that you could somehow wash away the embarrassment. So maybe you had a slight crush on Fred. Who could blame you? You’d been spending the last week cuddled up with him and spending so much time at the shop, not to mention acting like a couple in front of everyone. Who wouldn’t develop feelings?

But for some weird reason you had a feeling that this wasn’t a recent crush, rather something that’s been lurking right beneath the surface for a while. You groaned, hitting your head against the shower wall. This was not the time for this. You had a job to do, and Alicia would be here in 30 minutes so you had to hurry up. 

Scampering down the steps 15 minutes later after using a drying spell and getting dressed, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what was happening across the shop. Alicia was here early. 

From the looks of it, she had already made herself comfortable, leaning in to talk to Fred, who wasn’t doing anything to discourage the behavior. Instead, he was leaning in as well, laughing at a joke she just made. 

Fury burned inside you as you watched the scene unfold. You knew from the beginning that Alicia would be the hardest ex to deal with. Not only had she been Fred’s longest and most intimate relationship to date, but she was also a really nice person, meaning you had no reason to hate her. But at this moment you did. 

Alicia leaned closer, her nose almost touching Fred. What should you do? Did he want your help getting rid of her? Was he still harboring feelings and actually looking to reconnect? You saw him slowly lean in toward her, which you took as a sign to continue with your plan. 

You were almost running when you reached Fred, who turned and seemed happy to see you. “Just in time,” he said the Alicia, “Alicia, you remember--”

You cut him off with a kiss, the third kiss you’d promised him. Except this one wasn’t one of the pecks you described on your terms and conditions. You pulled Fred down into one of if not the most passionate kiss you’d ever had, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. 

Almost immediately he pulled off of you, looking more bewildered than you had ever seen him. “I…”

“Well that was quite the spectacle.”

You looked over to where Alicia was standing, smirking at the two of you. Contrary to what you had expected, she actually seemed rather calm and actually amused at what she had just seen. 

“S-sorry,” you said. Fred tried to say something but he was too dumbstruck to even get a word out. He just stood there, eyes wide and mouth twitching. 

“Is this a bad time?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be meeting my fiancé for breakfast later so I can just come back another time if that works for you.”

“Your...fiancé?”

“Yeah!” Alicia beamed as she showed you her left hand, her ring finger adorned with the most beautiful engagement ring you’d ever seen. “Actually, the reason I’m here is because I just asked Fred if he wanted to be in the wedding as a groomsman. Or bridesmaid. Whatever works for him. Thankfully the big oaf said yes before you laid that on him, or else I think I’d be waiting a lot longer for an answer.”

Fred was still as frozen as ever, making you and Alicia chuckle. “Hey, it’s been forever since we’ve caught up, how about you and Fred go on a double date with me and Lee sometime?”

It took you a second to understand why Lee would be there, until it dawned on you. “You’re marrying Lee Jordan?!”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter at this, loving to see your reaction. “That I am! You’re obviously invited, I’m sending invitations out soon. I’ll hope to see you there, and don’t be afraid to reach out, alright?”

“Y-yeah, will do,” you said. Alicia looked up at Fred and then to you and winked, before waving goodbye and leaving the shop. 

You refused to make eye contact with Fred, too embarrassed to even begin to talk to him. Maybe you’d just take 5 and take a walk down the street? That would help distract your brain from whatever just happened. 

“Real?”

You turned around to the source of the voice, a now more interactive Fred. “What?”

“Real,” he repeated. He shook his head a few times, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I just mean, that kiss was umm, it was real.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. The fact that you had kissed Fred, and an actual kiss at that, was finally hitting you. “Yeah, it was real, I guess.”

He took a step closer, his face assuming the puzzled look from the bedroom earlier. “Was...was what you said real too? From the dream, I mean?”

Now it was you who was frozen, feet stuck to the ground with no way out. What should you say? Confess your feelings and hope for the best? Or deny everything and try to work your way around this mess? You didn’t have time to think nor ration. Just act. 

“Yeah. It was real.”

Fred nodded, pursing his lips and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Cool.” He hesitated. “Would it be super crazy out of the blue if I asked you to maybe go out with me sometime. For real?”

A smile rose to your face, hoping that this wasn’t a joke. Slowly, almost shyly, you nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little crazy. But I’d say yes.”

Fred smiled too, a big toothy grin that only made you smile wider, before pulling you into a side hug. “Good, because you’re a little crazy too, so we’ll match on our date.”

“You’re a big dork,” you said, returning the hug. “What will the paper say when they see you with the same girl? They’ll probably explode!”

“I hope so,” he replied as he gave you a loving squeeze. “What I’m worried about is how we’re supposed to explain to George and Angelina that we’ve been faking this whole time and it’s only now getting real.”

“Eh, that’s a problem for another time. Right now, we’ve got some more pressing matters.” You gestured to the front window where a reporter was holding a huge camera, trying to snap a good picture of the two of you. 

“I’ll handle it, grab me the dungbombs.”

“Yes, sir!”

You ran to assist Fred, head rushing with thoughts of first dates and future ones down the road. Of attending Lee and Alicia’s wedding together and getting completely wasted with each other. Of sleeping together each night, holding each other in an embrace that was now true and deep and caring. In a relationship that was now real. 

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[pulsdmedia]

The Week Ahead 2/5-2/11

New York City - there’s no place quite like it. Whether you fell in love with it in the movies or you were born in raised, you know all about the magic. At pulsd, our bread & butter is making sure you experience all of it...

$29 VIP Ticket To A 2 Hour Open Bar Fashion Show Soirée 

Don your most head-turning threads, snap selfies with fellow fashionistas, and swig unlimited drinks at The Femme Fatale Haute Couture Fashion Show, held at one of the city's most legendary hotspots - the Copacabana! Once a haven for disco icons is now a locale for in-the-know denizens. Dressed to impress, you'll enter with your equally fashion-obsessed squad. Take advantage of the 2 Hour Open Bar that will be serving up whatever tipples fit your fancy. While you sip, peruse the scene and discover why Time Out considers the Copa "top of mind as your go-to destination." The show will start, and you'll be perfectly perched, ready to whip out your camera to snap pics of the latest trends by New York-based designers. Clink Champagne, and revel at the afterparty thanks to this unique experience...

A Book Talk and Cardio Class

This isn't your typical workout class! Join debut author Alisha Fernandez Miranda to celebrate the release of her memoir My What If Year. Alisha will talk about her new book and experience in the wellness industry, followed by a Q&A and book signing. After the author talk, get ready to break a sweat! A DanceBody instructor will lead a 45-minute cardio class. Post-workout juices and treats will be provided too!

30% Off: 3 Course Valentine's Day Dinner For 2 With Cocktails & A Bottle Of Moet

Love is the name of the game at Highkey Rainforest Rooftop, and their Valentine's Day dinner will showcase indulgence with a heavy dose of romance and lavish love, complete with spectacular eats, succulent sips, and views aplenty, all while staying warm, as the space is heated. Luxury, flirtation, and delectable delights await, kicked off by either cocktails like the Love & Passion (patron, guava, Chambord, maraschino, passion fruit foam), or both cocktails and a bottle of coveted Moet Champagne. The bubblier, the better! Follow that with a showcase of culinary treats like Beef Sliders with Caramelized Onions, Lobster Tails, Chicken Satay, Chocolate Covered Strawberries and the like. If the way to the heart is through the stomach, dig in!

Video Music Box Night

Since 1983, Brooklyn native Ralph McDaniels, founder and curator of the Video Music Box has been instrumental in documenting the evolution of Hip-Hop culture. McDaniels, affectionately known as “Uncle Ralph”, through Video Music Box, has played an integral role within the community of Hip-Hop, which positions him as a unique preservationist with historic memory. Don't miss this fun night!

$19 Ticket To An Open Bar Super Bowl LVII Party

Acclaimed by Forbes, Harper's Bazaar, and CNN, PHD Rooftop Lounge in Dream Downtown will infuse your Super Bowl LVII Sunday with views, vibes, and booze. Amidst jaw-dropping Manhattan scenes and a sparkling crown, this one is definitely a win-win. No matter the temp outside, delight in every square inch of this unparalleled indoor/outdoor space. You'll dance & drink amongst the who's-who of the city, equally marveling at panoramic Manhattan skyline vistas - hello, Hudson River and Empire State Building! The Chiefs & the Eagles will face off in this exciting game for the ultimate title, and you're expected to do one thing: imbibe in excess from the open bar, dance to the sounds of a live DJ, watch the game on multiple massive TVs, order some delish eats when cravings kick in, and have a blast with your crew. Nothing short of unforgettable, you'll be thrilled no matter who takes home the trophy...

Fukushima Sake Tasting

The Fukushima prefecture of Japan has won the most Gold Prizes 9 years in a row at the century-old Japan Sake Awards. Fukushima Sake is created with unmatched craftsmanship and the finest taste. While famous in Japan, Fukushima sake is still not well known to the outside world. Enjoy a free tasting session of premium Fukushima sake and whisky!

[hamikdash]

March Against Ben & Jerry’s NYC

PROTEST TO END JEW HATRED AT BEN & JERRY'SWITH A MARCH TO BEN & JERRY’S NYC

Thursday, August 12, 2021 at 5:30 PM

(DOWNLOAD POSTERS HERE)

Steps of the New York Public Library, 476 5th Ave, New York, NY 10018.

The event will have private security and NYPD presence

PROTEST FOLLOWED BY A WEEK OF ACTION AGAINST BEN & JERRY’S

ACROSS THE WORLD (SEE BELOW)

COALITION OF ELECTED OFFICIALS, RELIGIOUS LEADERS AND COMMUNITY ADVOCATES JOIN THE #ENDJEWHATRED MOVEMENT, TO PROTEST BEN & JERRY’S “HALF-BAKED” DECISION TO DISCRIMINATE AGAINST JEWS

Assemblymember Daniel Rosenthal, Councilmember Kalman Yeger, and Coalition of Jewish Community Organizations Join the #EndJewHatred Movement to Reject Hate

Advocates To Hand Out Ice Cream and Denounce Corporate Boycotts of Jewish People and Jewish-Owned Businesses in Judea

In the wake of Ben & Jerry’s racist decision to stop selling ice cream in Judea and Samaria, elected officials, religious leaders, and community advocates are holding a protest to #EndJewHatred at Ben & Jerry’s, and to oppose anti-Semitic and illegal commercial boycotts against Jewish people and the Jewish state. The protest comes as officials in at least 5 states - Texas, Florida, New York, New Jersey, and Illinois - express their deep concern and intentions to evaluate whether to divest their public pension funds from Ben & Jerry’s parent company, Unilever. Local NYC institutions, such as Morton Williams and Gristedes have reduced their offerings of Ben & Jerry’s products in New York.

Ben & Jerry’s illegal boycott is the biggest act of corporate antisemitism since Airbnb – which ended up settling multiple lawsuits and reversing its discriminatory policy. Ben & Jerry’s act creates an atmosphere where Jew-hatred is legitimized, and emboldens violence against Jews. Just this past weekend, mobs demanding global violence against Jews took to the streets of Brooklyn. This is a consequence of normalizing Jew-hatred, which is what Ben & Jerry’s is doing.

Activists and community leaders will hand out free ice cream and educational materials about the dangerous movement to boycott Jewish people [the so-called Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement] and call for a “week of action” at Ben & Jerry’s stores and properties around the world. Protestors will then march to Ben & Jerry’s and receive free ice-cream from its competitors who don’t engage in Jew-hatred and discrimination.

Elected officials including Assemblymember Daniel Rosenthal, Councilmember Kalman Yeger, and a coalition of numerous Jewish community organizations join the #EndJewHatred movement in calling for a boycott of Ben & Jerry’s and complete State divestment from its parent company Unilever, unless Unilever reverses its bigoted and discriminatory decision. The #EndJewHatred movement is mobilizing thousands of activists, starting with a major protest on August 12th in New York City to end racism in corporate policies.

"The recent decisions undertaken by Ben & Jerry's and Unilever betray the insidious nature of the BDS movement," said Assembly Member Daniel Rosenthal. "Whether through negligent ignorance or willful action, the BDS movement is normalizing hate and antisemitism across our country. New York stands with the worldwide Jewish community in rejecting this rhetoric and calling on Ben & Jerry's to reverse their position."

‍

Said Club Z Founder and Executive Director Masha Merkulova, and #EndJewHatred co-founder and activist, “When Ben & Jerry’s board decided to stop selling in Judea, Jews around the world immediately understood the long history of antisemitism that went into it. Let’s be clear: we reject the premise that Jews are anything other than the indigenous people who are now living in their ancestral homeland. To call Jews in Judea illegal, is an expression of bigotry and racist Jew-hatred.   To call for a Judenrein state of Palestine, is nothing but modern Nazism.  Unilever’s racist decision will have negative repercussions for both the Jews and Muslims who work side by side, and whose livelihoods depend on the stable employment that Ben & Jerry’s Israel provides. This half-baked decision should be reversed immediately. Club Z proudly stands up to mobilize our youth against hate and the normalization of the Jew-hater movement known as the BDS movement."

Said The Lawfare Project Executive Director Brooke Goldstein, and #EndJewHatred co-founder and activist, “It’s so encouraging to see the Jewish community and our allies unified around a single demand, to end Jew-hatred at Ben & Jerry's, and in corporations generally. There is no place for racism and bigotry, especially by major corporations like Unilever, in the 21st century.  Ben & Jerry’s fateful decision to engage in a commercial boycott of Jewish people and Jewish-owned businesses, is already proving to have major social and legal consequences.  The movement to sever the Jewish connection to the land of Israel is a hateful campaign of modern-day colonialism, cultural genocide and indigenous erasure.”

‍

Said Roz Rothstein, Co-Founder and CEO of StandWithUs, an international education organization that supports Israel and combats antisemitism, "It should be clear by now that Ben & Jerrys board has made a dreadful mistake by blaming only Israel for the lack of peace while ignoring variables like Hamas terrorism, abuse of the Palestinian people by their own despotic leadership, and Palestinian rejection of Israel’s many peace offers. We sincerely hope that Unilever and Ben & Jerry's will go the way of AirBnB and resort to full relations and business with Israel for the sake of Israelis and Palestinians alike."

‍

‍WHAT: Protest to #EndJewHatred at Ben & Jerry’s with a march to Ben & Jerry’s NYC and free ice cream, followed by a week of action against Ben & Jerry’s across the world

WHEN: Thursday, August 12, 2021 at 5:30 PM

WHERE: Steps of the New York Public Library. 476 5th Ave, New York, NY 10018.

WHO: Assembly Member Dan Rosenthal, Council Member Kalman Yeger, Club Z, The Lawfare Project, Stand With Us, Alums for Campus Fairness, Canadian Antisemitism Education Foundation (CAEF), End Jew Hatred Canada, Herut North America, Yad Yamin, EMET, and Scholars for Peace in the Middle East in support of the movement to #EndJewHatred at Ben and Jerry’s

Come to the New York Public Library on August 12th at 5:30 PM to protest Ben & Jerry's. If you are unable to attend you can hold your own event.

JOIN THE WEEK OF ACTION AGAINST BEN & JERRY’S WORLDWIDE!

To host a solidarity event at your local Ben & Jerry’s use the below checklist:

Logistics

Create a Facebook event page and invite friends and local Jewish activists in your area. Share information about the event on all your social media platforms with #EndJewHatred and tag @BenandJerrys

Print and distribute flyers (download designs here).

Write a short introduction for your event. Feel free to take from this website. Post it on social media.

Send a press release to local media outlets the day before your event.

Call and text everyone you think will be interested, letting them know what’s going on. Follow up with them the morning of the event to make sure they are coming.

Let us know so we can help you! Email us at action@endjewhatred.com

Who to Invite

On college campuses, contact student organizations and ask for their help in promoting your event.

Contact your friends and any pro-Jewish people you know. If you live in a Jewish area, talk to people! Tell them how important this is for the Jewish community, and give flyers to local synagogues and Jewish stores.

Jobs To Do

You will need volunteers to do the following things:

Manage outreach and keep track of who is coming to the protest.

Livestream the video of your protest.

Hand out flyers to passers-by.

Speakers.

An MC to coordinate and run the event.

A safety and security coordinator to make sure everyone stays safe.

A designated media contact to speak to the press.

You Should Bring:

End Jew Hatred at Ben & Jerry’s signs

A bullhorn.

Flyers.

A clipboard and pens to collect email addresses for future events.

Your phone to take photos and videos! Upload them to social media and use the hashtag #EndJewHatred and tag @BenandJerrys

With any questions, please email us at

action@endjewhatred.com

‍

[rebellconquerer]

hi, I don’t know if your inbox is still open for requests,if not that’s completely fine :). If so, I would like to request “Fuck, I need a drink to deal with you.” For Bucky x Sarah. Thank you.

It's a little long and a little different from my other bits of writing, less cute, more character study but I hope you still like it anon! Cross posted to AO3

She watches them get out of the truck, loud and boisterous in that way she's learnt means that they're ok. She knows they've been back stateside for several days already, spending extended time at the base in DC while Sam trains Torres and James continues his cross-country journey training special forces personnel. Hell, she had even video chatted with them but there is some part of her that does not settle, cannot settle, until she can touch them and see for herself that they are safe.

"You're a menace Buck, you know that right? Is it something about the 40s that made you and Steve like this or did the two of you find each other because everyone else saw how fucking crazy you were?" Sam asks, voice light with laughter.

Sarah watches the easy line of James' shoulders as he reaches into the back for his duffle, she can tell a lot about the headspace he's in based solely off of how he holds himself. She's had to learn his little tells because he still doesn't talk as much as she'd like.

"I trained with 12-year-old Dora's that were more impressive than this asshole and that was practically their after school program. It's not my fault he took exception to that comparison." James replies, glaring mockingly at Sam. She can tell they've been having whatever conversation this is for a while.

"You know if you keep breaking their soldiers the US military isn't going to continue inviting you back." Sam's smirk is playful though, clearly harassing James more for the sake of the harassment than out of any actual concern.

"Thank-fucking-Christ. See if I miss them." James grumbles, turning to face her with his duffle draped over his shoulders.

She is moving towards them before she consciously tells her feet to go. She isn't some damsel left behind though, so there will be no running and leaping into his arms, no matter how much she may want that. Instead, she strolls casually out her front door and down her porch steps with her arms tucked safely in her pockets, face excited, but in a cool and controlled way.

She watches as his smile broadens into a grin at the sight of her and her cool and controlled expression fails immediately as she grins back at him.

Sam makes a retching sound somewhere to the right of her but she isn't paying him any attention, thank you very much.

"Welcome back." She manages around her smile, technically to both of them but she's staring at James.

"Thank you, kind sister. You know it was a really rough couple of weeks, but it's the support of family that really holds us togeth- oh Christ, just kiss him already. It's not like watching the two of you make eyes at each other is any better." Sam ends in an exasperated mutter.

She chuckles lightly, her eyes darting around James' face, taking in the familiar blue of his eyes along with the healing bruises high on his left cheek. Her brother occasionally has good ideas.

He drops his bag on the dew-wet grass of the early morning and is reaching for her as she stretches up slightly to meet his soft, chapped lips.

"Sam, is it very hard being Captain America and having to stop white panther over there from doing stupid shit every ten minutes? As a matter of fact, yes, it is. Thank you for asking, sister of mine." Sam's voice grumbles as he moves away from them towards the front door.

His solo conversation forces a huff of laughter from her lips. It's become one of her favourite things, laughing into James' mouth. She pulls away from him, feeling sorted for the first time in weeks.

"Hi Sam! How are you? It's been so long since I last spoke to you 10 hours ago." She says brightly.

She watches the back of Sam's headshake ruefully as he keeps walking away from them and hears James pick back up his bag as he begins strolling lazily beside her.

"What's all this, then?" Sam asks as he gets to the porch, looking down at the three boxes piled outside.

"I'm not sure. It came last night. It's for you." She says with a small twist, turning to face James.

He raises his eyebrows in surprised confusion.

"For me? And it came here?" He questions.

Sam leans over, grabbing the still-sealed envelope off the top of the boxes.

"It came 'Care of Captain America' but yeah, it's for you." She says easily, hopping up the steps in one go and turning to lean her hip against the old wooden railing.

"Do you mind?" Sam asks James, already moving to open the envelope. James shakes his head, leaning on a post on the other side of the staircase.

Sam's eyes scan quickly back and forth over the letter before his mouth narrows into a small frown.

"It's from the Smithsonian." He finally says, handing the letter over to James.

"The Smithsonian?" James mumbles, taking the letter and she watches his expression freeze then go utterly blank as he reads it.

"Why is the Smithsonian writing to you?" She asks with concern.

Neither answer her for a moment just long enough that she starts to feel genuine concern.

"Dear Sergeant Barnes," James begins to read, pausing to clear his throat.

By the end of the sentence, James' voice has just the barest hints of a wobble.

"My name is Eloise Lambert and I have been the lead curator and researcher behind the Captain America and the Howling Commandos exhibit for nearly 40 years. I understand this must seem a drop in the hat to you, but it has represented my life's work. While I cannot begin to understand what it must be like to find out strangers have been heavily involved in the study of your life while you were still living it, please forgive me the eccentricities of an old woman to tell you that you were always my favourite.

During the initial stages of the creation of the exhibit in Washington and at its sister sites, several pieces of memorabilia were gifted to the institution by your family. In the intervening years, through research and the continued graciousness of your siblings, we have amassed quite an impressive list of items from your pre-war life. Additionally, in the often hard and lonely years that followed the blip, Captain Rogers also donated several items related to both your lives. It is my belief, however, that he gave us these items in good faith, believing you were permanently gone.

In the aftermath of the returns and the continued examination of the cultural damage that can be wrought by museums, especially with the years of discourse that followed the attack on The Museum of Great Britain, the Smithsonian has wrestled with what to do with the pieces that we have that are not fit for public showing. It is my honest belief that not only would your family and Captain Rogers want you to have these items, but that good morality compels us to return them to you. This endeavour has turned out to be harder than initially anticipated as though I am assured you returned after the blip, no one seems to know quite how to find you. With our continued efforts to locate you failing, and possible sightings of you with Captain America, we have decided to send these items to Captain Wilson in the hopes that they will eventually find their way to you.

Time is a cruel mistress, and as I approach the end of my life, the meaningfulness of old memories has become increasingly clear. I hope this has remained true for you as well, even through your painful but most extraordinary journey, however, should these items bring more pain than happy remembrance, please feel free to return them. The appropriate address is enclosed below."

He looks down at the unassuming boxes with the same carefully blank look on his face.

"Well… that's unexpected." He finally says, looking over at her with questioning eyes.

James drops to his knees, pulling one of the boxes to him at random and opening it gently. He lets out a soft breath as he pulls out the object on top.

Sarah strays closer, looking over his shoulder. It's a framed photograph of him in his military uniform, smiling easily at something behind the camera and in the right lower corner, held in place by some kind of cloth housing, is a small medal.

"Holy shit. Is that a Silver Star, Buck?" Sam asks, stooping down beside James whose thumb brushes reverently over the frame.

"Yeah," James says, voice cracking a little but a small smile curving his lips. "They gave it to me after Azzano, when I got back from Austria… the first time Zola…" he drifts off, glancing over at Sam.

The first time he had been captured. The first time he had been experimented on.

"I had sent it to my ma. They'd sent her a letter listing me as missing and presumed captured. Becca said she'd spent every spare minute she had in the pews at St. Leo's." He huffs out a small laugh, eyes going unfocused. "So I sent her the star and the picture in my next letter, as an apology."

Both Sarah and Sam are quiet, unsure what to say. A moment later James seems to shake the fog away and pushes the photo back into the box, standing abruptly.

"I'm gonna grab a shower, get cleaned up before the boys wake up." He mutters, old Brooklyn accent seeping in around the edges to soften his consonants, the way it always seems to when he gets lost in his past.

Sam stands slowly, making eye contact with her for a second before she steps up beside James.

"Are you ok?" She asks lowly.

He pushes the open box to the side of the door with his foot, then leans in and drops a quick kiss on her cheek.

"I'm good. Honest. I'll come back to it." He replies, shouldering his bag and stepping inside. She turns to look at Sam. He just shrugs and follows James into the house.

**********************************

The rest of the day continues like every one of her weekends since she began to be called mom more often than Sarah.

AJ wakes first and is downstairs pulling out dishes and mixing bowls for her because 'weekend mornings mean pancakes, mom!'

Then he's in the living room, TV on, watching whatever cartoon is his latest obsession. This month it's Clone Wars.

Sam comes down next, surprising AJ who hadn't noticed the truck in the driveway or the shoes by the entrance, so he's folded into the mandatory cartoons.

Cass is a late sleeper. Will sleep till the early afternoon if left to his own devices usually, but if Sam is AJs favourite adult, James is Cass's, so she's not all that surprised to see him at James' elbow when he does come downstairs in grey sweats and an old, soft-looking graphic T proclaiming Wakanda Forever. Bucky wanders into the kitchen, Cass right behind him and sets up to help with breakfast.

So the morning goes, with laughter and sticky spills and chocolate chips, until Sarah all but forgets about the boxes heavy with history sitting on her porch. It's not until much later, when the dishes are already washed and packed away, loads of laundry completed and her eyes tired from staring at income and expense spreadsheets from the restaurant, that she realises she hasn't seen hide nor hair of James and his shadow in some time.

Needing a break from excel, Sarah stretches languidly, feeling the bones in her back pop and realign before she stands, strolling through the house to find them. She hears the soft murmur of James' voice and the gentle cadence of Cass asking questions coming from the porch.

The door is propped open, only the screen door closed, so she can see them from the entryway and she has to stop to take it in for a moment. They are sitting on the floor, Cass in between James' outstretched legs with his back curved into James' chest, going through one of his boxes from the Smithsonian.

"And what about this?" Cass asks, pulling out a piece of ancient-looking folded paper.

"You tell me," James replies softly, unfolding the delicate age stained paper, hand over hand with Cass.

"Um, it's another letter. From Ruth?"

"My youngest sister,” James mumbles. “What does it say?"

"De-dearest James,” Cass begins to read. “I was so ple-ple-as-"

"Pleased," James corrects lightly.

"Pleased to read your most re-recent letter. We are so glad that you are away from the front for the next few weeks… what does that mean? Front of what?" Cass asks, turning to look up at James, whose eyes are sombre but kind, seemingly unable to look away from the old words.

"It means where the fighting was during the war."

Sarah stands watching the easy care James takes with her son and feels like she can't catch her breath. He's not doing it for her, she knows. He is sitting and sharing his life with her child, going over his reading with him, solely because he wants to. Because Cass wants to be near to him. She moves her hand to her chest, rubbing absently, trying to work out the heavy feeling that has settled over her heart.

"Why didn't she want you to fight? You're really good at it." Cass says with the carelessness of the young.

James hums consideringly, going through the rest of the letters in the batch in his hand. "I wasn't as good at it then, and she was worried about me."

She chooses that moment to join them. "What're ya'll up to out here?" She asks, coming to sit cross-legged on the other side of the boxes.

James looks up at her, eyes lighter than she expects, and smiles. "Just going through them, you know," he replies. She wants to ask if he is ok, if he needs time or space or any of the 20 other things she could probably come up with but thinks it might be better to just let him be.

She reaches into the box in front of her and comes out with another stack of papers. She gently pulls them apart then freezes. They're copies of his enlistment documents. The top right-hand corner of one has a faded, black and white photo of a man, barely more than a boy really, with familiar blue eyes but no hint of the darkness James carries.

"Bucky Barnes I presume." She says softly, holding the picture out to him.

Cass' little hands pull James' arm down to his level as he takes the photo so he can see too.

"That's not you!" Cass says, scrunching up his nose.

James makes a face and looks down at him askance.

"And why not?"

Cass shrugs. "You look so old now"

James absolutely cackles at that. Head thrown back, hand over his heart. Sarah tries to stifle her own laugh and look disapprovingly at Cass. Nothing beats the open honesty of the innocent.

"Real vicious, kid. I think I look ok for 106." He finally gets out.

Cass seems unimpressed, scrambling away from James to poke at another box as Sam’s head appears around the front door.

"What's going on out here? Grandpa is laughing?"

James just shrugs.

"Your nephew is speaking truth to power," Sarah replies with a smirk. James gives her a baleful glare while Sam takes in the scene around them, giving Sarah a significant look that she can't really read.

"Is this you too, Uncle Buck?" Cass asks, holding up a sketchbook.

Sarah looks over to see an impressive likeness of a young James in side profile, a small smile curving his lips as a thin cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth.

James nods, holding his hand out for the sketchbook as a grin overtakes his face. Sam comes to sit, dropping down heavily beside her as Sarah switches to laying on her stomach, head perched on her hands. James places the dog eared book on the floor between them.

Cass scrunches up his nose again. "Is that a cigarette? Those are bad!"

James nods, looking up as Cass comes to lean heavily against his shoulder. "You're right but gimme a break. It was 1938. We didn't know that yet."

Sarah reaches out and flips through the book. There are drawings of the view from a fire escape at different times of day with the vague outlines of people coming and going, a few of a young woman with old, old eyes and a lot of sketches of James. Sometimes just bits and pieces of him, how his eyes look happy or sad or tired. His hands holding a cigarette or a beer or fixing things. Some are whole body portraits, from James in a full suit to him in nothing but an undershirt and trousers, his suspenders hanging off his shoulders.

The last few pages have several drawings of a delicate-looking young man who’s almost pretty, soft hair and a pointed chin, but with eyes that blaze.

"Who's that?" She asks.

James gets a complicated look on his face, wrapping an arm around Cass's small frame.

"Portrait of the artist as a young man." He whispers.

"No shit," Sam says softly, reaching to twist the book more towards himself. Sarah is so shocked she doesn't even remember to yell at Sam about his language.

She stares down at the image. She's seen the hologram of Captain America before the serum in museums, like everyone else, but it's always the same image: him in some military clothes with an ill-fitted helmet on, before it slides into that famous shot of him, almost 6 and a half feet of righteous fury. She studies the picture some more. She thinks she can see it, see him, in the curve of his mouth and the intensity in his gaze. She supposes America doesn't want the world reminded of the small boy behind one of the greatest symbols of 'American Exceptionalism'. She doesn't really know much about the man that Steve Rogers was. She never particularly cared for what he represented. She wonders now if he even liked what he came to be seen as.

"And the woman? She's in here a lot too." Sam asks.

James smiles crookedly. "His ma. Her name was Sarah."

When Sarah's sharp eyes flick to him, he's already looking at her, smile widening minutely before he sighs.

"She died a month after my 18th. TB. Money got even tighter after that. Eventually moved with him into a tiny little apartment near Red Hook, let my Ma rent out my room at home. Anything for a buck, you know."

Cass gets bored with the conversation and wanders back inside, probably to harass his brother.

Sarah looks at her namesake, trying to wrap her mind around this whole other life that James has lived. She flips through the pages again. By far the most common subject is James, the lines of him traced with familiarity and clearly with love. Sarah flicks her eyes up to James who is watching her quietly.

“Ask” he commands.

She makes a face. “What? I don’t know what you-”

“Just ask, Sarah.” he interrupts, eyes playful. She looks back down at the drawings, unable to resist trailing her fingers lightly along the charcoal lines.

“Well… I mean there are a lot of drawings of you here… were you two ever-”

“No,” he says with a put upon smile.

“Hey! You told me to ask! I didn’t even get to finish my question!” she chuckles. James rolls his eyes heavenward.

“God, I need a drink to deal with you,” he mumbles. Sarah pouts and Sam also starts to laugh. “You think you’re the first person to ask if I was sleeping with Captain America? God, if I had a nickel every time someone asked me, I’d be a millionaire.”

Sam shrugs. “Man, if I had a nickel every time someone asked me if you were sleeping with Steve, I’d be a millionaire.”

Bucky laughs at that. It takes him a minute to settle down.

"Steve got real sick winter of '37. Didn't really shake it for the rest of the next year. Would get a couple of good weeks then his breathing was shit again. Spent most of the year in bed. Couldn’t manage to do too much but draw… didn't have too many models though. So it was what he could see from the window and well… me. I think the priest came to the house 3 or 4 times that year.” he trails off, eyes seeming to stare past the sketches.

“Priest?” she asks.

Bucky nods, leaning back against the house. “Steve's ma was real religious. Wouldn'ta let us live it down if Steve passed without last rights. It was touch and go a few times.”

They’re all silent for a bit after that, letting it sink in. She looks back down at the drawings, how much they seem like they are about to start moving, how well they seem to capture James’ essence.

“He loved you though, you can’t draw someone like that without a lot of love.” She whispers looking up to see Sam and James share a look.

“Steve loved… hard,” Sam replies. James nods.

“Could be real irritable about it, but yeah. His pa died when he was real little. Ma never remarried. Between Steve being so sickly and his ma being a single mother, things were rough. My parents owned a little deli. Wasn’t much but it meant we were doing a lot better for a lot longer than a lot of people until we weren’t.” James says with a shrug. Sarah barely breathes, she’s never heard him talk about his past so freely.

“We lived in the same building. My ma had a real bleeding heart. Came over from Italy as a teenager… I don’t think she ever forgot how people looked at her in the beginning when her accent was real strong.” he scoffs. “Never forgot being run out of her own country either. Didn’t much take to what other people thought. Helped out whenever she could, practically adopted them. There were times when things got bad, I was all he had.” James eventually finishes.

She supposes she can see it then, why Steve Rogers risked his life, risked his freedom, to get James back. Sam just nods slowly, like he’s heard it all before. Hell, he probably has. Sam pulls the last unopened box to him and starts carefully going through it as Sarah relaxes in the gentle breeze in the early afternoon.

“Damn. Didn’t think they’d give this back.” Sam says, pulling a dusty old leather case with a glass front out. He flips the case open slowly, turning it to face James who lets out a quiet release of breath.

Sarah frowns. It’s a medal of some kind, but she doesn’t recognize it. “What is that?”

Sam looks at her, his face very solemn. “It’s a medal of honour. Highest military award you get. A lot of times posthumously.”

James takes the medal, looking down at it with wonder. “I’d never seen it,” he says softly. “Steve said it was Peggy who made sure we both got them. Wanted the world to know that we died for something even if no one could be told exactly what. I don’t even know who it was presented to." James stares at the small medallion with an expression of adoration on his face.

A moment later there is a loud crash from inside the house followed by a suspicious silence. Sarah moves to stand but Sam waves her off, standing first to go investigate.

James leans back against the wall, just staring at the small medallion while Sarah watches him. He's occasionally so much more than she expects and yet still so very human.

"You are handling all this a lot better than I expected you to." She says, unable to keep the thought in.

James pauses. "Honestly, I don't think I ever expected to get any of these things back, and I certainly never expected to have anyone to share all this with." He replies, looking at her with such deep affection, she has to look away.

"Can I ask another question that may make you uncomfortable?"

"You literally asked me if I was fucking my best friend 10 minutes ago, I don't think anything is off the table." He replies with a small smirk and a head tilt. She huffs out a quiet laugh at that.

"How come more things from this century don't seem to… shock you? No 'for coloured only signs', gay marriage, interracial dating… “ she adds, pointing between the two of them. "Most people your age have pretty set opinions on a lot of those things. "

He frowns, tilting his head in that way that she knows means she has shocked him.

"Where's this coming from?"

She shrugs, reaching for one of the small piles of letters littering the floor between them. If she's honest it's a thought she's had before, but always assumed it had something to do with him not being fully unaware of the passage of time given the intermittent awakenings of the Soldier, or the fact that he'd basically been kept as property himself. She'd never felt entirely comfortable asking before, but this James, the one who reads his old letters to her son, seems so much more like an open book than ever before.

"Just… being reminded that you really were born in 1917 and the world of your youth looked very very different." Is what she chooses to say.

James seems to think for a minute and she appreciates that. Appreciates him trying to give her an answer that feels honest to him.

"A strong man who has known power all his life may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of it. Erskine said that to Steve before he gave him the serum. Steve was fond of that quote." He says quietly.

She frowns.

"Not to call you out James but this guy might have been a few pounds lighter than you but I don't know if anyone would call him weak." She replies holding up the enrollment form with his picture.

He shakes his head, digging into the box in front of him and pulling out another old frame with an ancient-looking sepia portrait, colour bleeding at edges. He hands it to her.

She looks down at it. It's a family. Woman, man, four children. Taken in that old-timey way that you only ever see in horror movies these days. James looks like he's maybe 16 or 17. It's truly stunning.

"This is them, isn't it? Your whole family." She asks. He nods, looking down at his hands.

"You know how I said, my ma came over from Italy?"

"Yeah"

"Well she did, but her first language wasn't Italian. It was Romani."

"Romani?" Sarah asks with a frown, she doesn't think she's heard of that before.

"They used to call them gypsies. Weren't real popular in the US. Neither in Europe. She'd spent a lot of her life afraid simply for being born what she was, but she was proud and tough and unwilling to be afraid anymore. She wasn't going to let any of us forget her roots. Wasn't going to allow any of us to turn into bullies."

Sarah stares at the faded photo focusing on the woman.

"What was her name?" She questions.

"Maria." He replies, voice soft.

She looks tiny next to the man in the photo, a dainty little thing with full lips set in a stubborn looking line and proud eyes. She can see the resemblance to James though, can trace the lines of his features in her face.

"She sounds like an amazing woman," Sarah says looking up, surprised to find James studying her with almost the same intensity that she was studying the photo.

"Yeah… I seem to know a lot of those." He replies, with a strange, crooked little smile.

She blushes at that, feeling heat spread along her face and down the line of her throat at the unexpected compliment. She holds his gaze though, lets the moment sit between them warm and heavy somewhere in her chest as the bird songs continue and the wind rustles through the trees. For a moment, sitting amongst the ancient memories that helped create this impossible man, time finally seems to pause in deference to them.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

invisible strings

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

Word count: 3401

[ a/n: thank you so much for all the love and support. We’re almost done with this series! If I forgot to tag you please let me know! Also the ending is a bit lackluster but decided to save the best one for something special for the last chapter]

Age: 21

Year: June/July 2015

Location: CA & NY

"Thank-you all for coming and christening our new place," Thor thanks everyone, as he and Loki stood up at the dining table in their lit up backyard.

"Now there's one person I want to thank, my love," Thor said, reaching his hand out to Wanda who was sat to his left, Loki took his seat back down, "My love, I just want to thank-you for being by my side these last two years. I have never been as happy as I am with anyone else. Now I'm not very good with my words, but what I do know is how I feel about you. The love I have for you exceeds anything else."

"So, I just need to ask you this one question," he says, bending down on one knee, holding Wanda's left hand, while holding the ring box in the other, "Will you, Wanda Maximoff marry me?

"Yes," she cried out, throwing her arms around Thor's neck.

Everyone got up to cheer the newly engaged couple.

Steve and Elizabeth laid naked in her bed, comfortably in each other's presence after the night's activities.

"I can't believe Wanda and Thor are engaged," Elizabeth said, as Steve rubbed her arm as she laid on his chest.

"He's been talking about it for the last year," Steve tells her, "Said he didn't want to scare her off."

"Guess I'm going to have to find a new roommate," she jokes.

"Well actually, I was thinking."

"You better not be proposing to me post sex, while we're naked in bed," Elizabeth playfully jabbed his chest, looking up at him from his chest.

"No, no," Steve lets out a hearty laugh, "Not yet. We still have time for that."

"I was actually thinking, why don't we get a place together. After graduation," Steve suggests.

"What about your job?"

"I can commute," he says, "I'll be done with school in May. You still have law school after graduation, and I have no doubt Stanford is going to accept you into their law program, so you don't have to move."

"What if I don't get accepted?"

"I highly doubt you won't, but if you don't, I'm sure Columbia will snatch you up. And I'd follow you, wherever you go."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked, surprised he would even say that.

"Yeah. There's a lot of architect firms out there, and I'm sure my boss will give me a nice recommendation."

"I couldn't ask that of you Steve," Elizabeth said, getting off of his chest to sit up, grabbing the blanket to cover her chest.

"Which is why I'm offering. I want to do that Liz. This right here," he sits up, and gestures to the both, "This is all I want. So please, if it comes time for that, just let me."

"Okay. Promise you won't resent me?" She asks, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

"Never," he seriously says, pulling her in for a kiss, and back into his arms.

As they laid in bed, Steve notices Liz is lost in her thoughts.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Us, and everything that's lead us to this moment. Like there were some invisible strings leading me to you," she tells him.

"Yeah, you're correct," he ponders.

"Like everything that's happened, happened for a reason. We weren't supposed to be with each other then otherwise we probably wouldn't have made it out of high school."

"You don't think?" Steve asked.

"No, because we wouldn't have been the people we are now. Let's be real here Steve, you and I are not Bucky or Peggy. We're dreamers. Full on happy ending believing people who happened to be with realists at the time. We would've been so naive about the world outside of Brooklyn," Elizabeth says.

"We had never truly experienced pain in the way that we did. If we didn't go through senior year the way that we did, we wouldn't be here. Not specifically together or in California. But we would be stuck in a life where we forced ourselves to be happy. Where we didn't have room to grow. Room to experience a different way of life. We would've been who we were as 16 year olds. And don't get me wrong but that's no way to be."

"I'm glad this happened when it did," she says tilting her head to look at Steve's face.

"Me too," he smiled kissing the top of her head.

"Wow, my arm is so tired from lugging this ring around," Wanda announces walking into Elizabeth's room where she was packing things into a suitcase.

"Must be so exhausting," Liz teases as Wanda takes a seat on her bed.

"Incredibly," Wanda smiled, "How's the packing going?"

"Good, I have everything I'll need for the next two weeks," Liz tells her, "You guys are flying in two days before Steve's birthday right?"

"Yup! Thor seems to be more excited about Steve turning 21 than he is," Wanda laughs, "Next up will be you next month. Vegas won't be ready for us."

"Thor really is going out for all of our 21st birthdays, is he."

"He's excited we're all legally allowed to drink," Wanda says.

"So," Wanda shifted in her seat, "Are you guys going to the baby shower?"

"Yeah we are," Liz nodded her head, "Things have been better, and Steve really wants to be there for Bucky, and so do I."

"How are you feeling about it all?"

"Honestly, if Bucky is happy then so am I."

"It doesn't bother you even the slightest that he's having a baby with the woman he cheated on you with?"

"No," Liz shakes her head, "We've both moved on and grew from our situation. I'm happy with Steve, truly 100% happy. I know in my heart that Steve is the one."

"Whoa, wait, back that up," Wanda immediately shot up from her spot on the bed, "He's the one?"

"Yeah," Liz bascule smiles, her cheeks turning a slight pink.

"I mean, I knew that you loved him, but I don't think you've ever said out loud that he was the one."

Elizabeth shrugs her shoulders trying to fight off the huge grin that wants to spread across her face, "Well he is."

"Wow, umm this is great news," Wanda says looking around the room.

"What's wrong?" Liz asks taking in Wanda's sudden mood change.

"I just," Wanda coughed, trying to fight back the ball in her throat, her eyes tearing up, "I'm so happy for you. God this ring is making me incredibly emotional."

"Aw Wands," Elizabeth pulled her into a hug.

"You just deserve to be with someone who truly thinks the world of you and would move those worlds for you," Wanda cries in Liz's shoulder, "I just remember you telling me all about the shit you went through with Bucky in high school, and then the crap he put you through freshman year. You were just so over the idea of love. Even with steve you were so cautious, so just to hear you say that he's the one. I'm just so incredibly happy."

Elizabeth hugged Wanda tightly, tears streaming down her face. It meant the world to her to hear Wanda say those things. She felts so incredibly lucky to have a friends like her in her life.

"I better be your maid of honor," Wanda teased pulling away and wiping her tears, "Because you already know you're mine."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"We still need to get a baby shower gift for tomorrow," Elizabeth told Steve as they lounged around his childhood bedroom. Steve was sat at his desk sketching, while Elizabeth laid in his bed reading a book.

"I can do that if you want," Steve offered, not wanting to make Elizabeth uncomfortable no matter how many times she's told him she was fine.

"Somehow I don't think I can trust you getting the correct gift," Elizabeth teased.

"Babies like legos right?" He teased back, getting up to join her on the bed, laying his head down on her stomach.

"We can go together, I still need to get a few things for the party next weekend," she said playing with his hair.

Steve hummed in response, feeling himself getting tired, "A quick little nap and we'll go."

"Sounds good," she smiled at the man snuggled up on her.

The next day the couple were walking into the Barnes' backyard, hand-in-hand with a gift bag.

They were both instantly greeted by Bucky's mother Winnie.

"Oh you two made it!" She enthusiastically greeted them, pulling them both into a hug.

"Of course. We wouldn't have missed it," Steve smiled at her.

"Thank-you," she turned to Liz and grabbed her hand, "both of you. James really appreciates it. We all do. Especially with everything that has happened, he's going to need his best friends."

"You don't have to thank us," Liz says, "We'll always be there for Bucky. No matter what happens."

"Well thank-you," she smiles, and then turns to Steve, "Steve the men have been sent inside, so you can see your way inside."

"Already getting pushed aside," he jokes.

He placed a kiss on Elizabeth's cheek, "I'll be inside if you need me."

She nodded her head, then glanced around the yard and caught eye contact with an old high school classmate, Natasha's friend, rolling her eyes at the couple.

She cleared her throat, "Where do the gifts go?"

"Over at that table where Rebecca is at," Winnie smiled, and pointed to the table to the right where Rebecca was organizing all the gifts. Liz thanked her and made her way over.

Liz couldn't help but start to feel a bit uncomfortable. She hadn't planned for she and Steve to be separated for the entire party. She didn't really know anyone here, aside from Bucky's family, where things were still a bit awkward after last summer.

Even though things were good between Steve, Bucky, and her, it was still awkward. She and Natasha don't have the best history, they still haven't talked everything out, clear the air. Not that Nat owed Elizabeth a conversation, she just thought that now that things were okay, maybe them two can work on their relationship, for the sake of Bucky. But whenever Liz tried to reach out Nat would just say that she was busy, so she didn't push it. Not with Natasha being pregnant, plus she figured now that she was in town for two weeks that maybe they could get together for a quick chat.

"Hey Liz," Rebecca greeted her, a sigh of relief to see a friendly face.

"Hey Bec," she smiled, hugging the teen.

"God, I'm so glad to see you," Rebecca said pulling back from the hug, "Some of these girls are real bitches."

Liz was taken back for a second hearing Rebecca swear, it's sometimes hard to believe that tiny little toddler is now this young lady about to enter her senior year of high school.

"I'm sure they're not so bad," Liz said trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.

"Really? Because they're looking at you like you just murdered their entire family," Rebecca said.

Elizabeth turned around to see Natasha's friends huddled in a semi-circle around Natasha, all whispering and glaring at her. She turned back around to Rebecca and gave her a force smile.

Rebecca felt bad at bringing that to Liz's attention. Liz was always so nice to her, and even continues to keep in contact with her especially when Rebecca needs any help or advice.

"I can take that," she said trying to change the subject.

"Thank-you," she quietly said, handing over the gift bag to Rebecca.

"They're just jealous," Rebecca tells her, "Even with having my brother's child, Natasha still can't find it in her cold hearted heart to be nice to you."

"She doesn't owe me anything."

"Now that's not true. She owes you a lot, and the least she can do is be nice, especially with my mother throwing her this baby shower and allowing her to live with us until she and Bucky find a place."

"She's living here?" Elizabeth asked, surprised to hear that. Bucky never mentioned Nat living with them, they did know that they were looking at places closer to his job and school.

"Yeah, she moved in probably two months ago, when she really started to show," Rebecca tells her, "Apparently she hadn't told her dad, and once she started showing she had to confess. He kicked her out. Said she was ruining her life."

"That's intense," Elizabeth said.

"Yup. So my mom and Keith are letting her stay until they find a place of their own," Rebecca says, "And as much as I love my brother I can't wait til she's gone. He's an idiot for knocking her up."

"She can't be that bad," Liz said trying to give Nat the benefit of the doubt.

"Trust me Liz, she is. Being pregnant has made her a complete devil," Rebecca stresses, "My mom is way too nice to have that be the mother of her first grandchild."

Before Liz could respond to that, someone came up behind her.

"Oh Becky, I wanted the gifts to be color coordinated," Natasha remarked, with her hand on her belly.

"My mom told me to do it by size," Rebecca rolled her eyes, "And my name's Rebecca."

"But Becky is so cute."

"No it's not," Rebecca argued.

"Hi Natasha," Elizabeth awkwardly greeted, breaking up the conversation.

"Oh hi Elizabeth," Natasha stiffly said, forcing a smile on her face as she rubs her belly, "Didn't think you would show up."

"Oh, well Steve told Bucky we were coming," she explains.

"Of course he did."

"You look pretty," Elizabeth complimented her to try and break the tension.

"I know. I'm absolutely glowing carrying Bucky's child," she replied with a snarky tone.

"I'm really happy for you both."

"Sure you are," she rolled her eyes.

"No, I truly am. That's why I actually wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if maybe we can get together sometime this next week, to talk," Liz suggests.

"There's no need," Nat tells her, "I get what you're doing. You think that getting on my good graces will put you in Bucky's good graces, but I hate to break it to you, that's not going to happen. I'm trying my best here to be polite to you, but once this baby is born, I'll make sure Bucky no longer makes time for you and Steve. I am his life now, and we don't have space in it for you both."

"Nat-"

"Thanks for the gift, hopefully the gift receipt is in the bag," Natasha fake smiled, "Enjoy the party."

"Fix the gifts Becky," she turned to Rebecca enunciating 'Becky', before walking away to go back to her friends.

"Told you she was the devil," Rebecca commented, ignoring Natasha's request.

"Yeah, you weren't lying," Elizabeth turned to look at Nat who was laughing with her friends.

Steve and Elizabeth said their final goodbyes a couple of hours later, and walked back to their rental car.

"That went well, don't you think?" Steve commented on as he started the car.

"Yeah it did," she lied.

Elizabeth decided it was probably best not to bring it up to Steve. He and Bucky just fixed their relationship, that she was afraid if she told Steve that Bucky wouldn't believe them. She would just have to hope that Bucky wouldn't allow their friendship to take another hit. She had faith that their friendship was stronger than that.

"Do you mind if we made a stop somewhere?" Steve asks her as he pulls away from the curb.

"No, of course not."

"Perfect. We just have to make one quick pit stop before," he says a few minutes later, parking in a parking lot of a cafe.

Steve walked back out of the cafe with a picnic basket.

"What's that for?" She asked smiling as he got in, putting the basket in the backseat.

"Just wait and see," he winked.

15 minutes later they were pulling up to a park.

"A park?"

"Thought we could have an impromptu picnic date," he smiles, "Wait here."

He got out of the car and grabbed the basket from the backseat. She heard him close and open the trunk. He then opened her door.

"Mi lady," he held his hand open for her to take.

"Oh why thank-you kind sir," she giggled taking his hand.

He led her to a nice spot on top of a hill, overlooking the park.

"Can you hold this for me real quick," he asked, holding out the picnic basket for her.

She took it from him as he laid out the blanket. Steve took the basket back and started to unpack the contents and laid them out on the blanket for them.

"A little dinner at sunset," he offered his hand so she can sit down next to him on the blanket.

"This was perfect Steve," she kissed his cheek, as they finished off their little dinner.

"Just thought I'd thank-you for coming with me today," he says wrapping his arm around her, as she leaned into him.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I know I don't, but I want to. I know you say you were fine with today, and I completely believe you, but I also know that even if you're okay with it, it's still can be uncomfortable," he says, "So I just want to show you how appreciative I am of you."

"I love you," she leans her head up to capture his lips with her's.

Age: 27

Year: 2021

Location: Brooklyn, NY

"Steve whats with the blind fold," Elizabeth giggled in the passenger seat of their rental car.

"It's a surprise," he laughed, "Now just be patient, we're almost there."

"Steve, come on you know I hate surprises."

"You liked the last surprise I gave you," he teased.

"It was a kitten, that's different," she smiled.

"You still loved it," he said, "Plus we're here already."

"Oh that was quick," she said reaching to take her blindfold off.

"Don't," he warned her, "Not yet."

Steve helped her out of the car, and linked their arms together as he led her to the surprise.

"Okay, we're here," he nervously said, he took her blindfold off.

Liz adjusted her eyes after being in the dark for the past 30 minutes. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted with a lantern lit up picnic on top of the hill at the park.

"Surprise," Steve said behind her.

Liz turned around to find Steve down on one knee, with an opened ring box.

"Steve," she gasped.

He took her left hand into his own.

"Elizabeth Carolina Sanchez, words can't even explain how much I am in love with you, but I'm going to try. I don't think i can remember back to a time where you weren't a part of my life, and honestly i don't want to. You've made me so incredibly happy these last almost seven years, and no matter how much I say I'm appreciate of you, i don't think it's ever going to be enough. Getting to wake up to you every day to you smiling at me, honestly i don't think there's a greater thing in the world. I'd give the entire world, if it meant that I got to see you smile every day of my life. I don't ever want to imagine a life without you. You've made me the best person I could ever want to be. There's not a day that doesn't go by where you don't continuously tell me how proud you are of me, and the endless amount of support and love you've given me. There's no one I'd rather spend my entire life with. Start a family with. Be a family with. So, Elizabeth, will you do me the greatest honor of marrying me?"

"Yes," Elizabeth choked out, as the tears streamed down her face. She lunged herself into Steve's arms and kissed him.

"I love you so much," she cried.

"I love you too," he said, pulling her into another kiss.

They pulled away, and Steve placed the ring on her finger.

"I love you," she said again.