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us3rnam3-r3dact3d · 3 months ago

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the world (it burns through me)

Ao3 | 3.6k Words | Freelancer's POV

Gabriel Shaw raised his son in this fire house, in this office as Captain. And Asher’s dad was his lieutenant. And Milo’s dad was the beat cop who would divert his route to clear a scene when he heard the 10-19 was on a call. The house was fill of lineage, full of families of firefighters and their sons.

It was a lineage that you weren’t a part of.

Firefighter/EMT au. Darlin is still the black sheep. Quinn is still a problem. Sam is still a healer, of sorts. He still heals them, in a way.

TW: blood and injury, medical talk, burn out, passing out from exhaustion, generally dissatisfaction when receiving medical care, refusal of medical care

It was the winter after you flunked out of medical school and you were buttoning up the starched, navy EMT uniform shirt that you’d received a few hours before. Gavin thought that this was a good idea when you’d pitched it, but not for the reasons you’d brought up. You originally wanted to be an EMT as an appeal to your mother, who had, upon your withdrawal from school, languished that her youngest was as much of a disappointment as their older siblings.

Your sister was a school teacher. Your brother was an artist. By ‘disappointment ,’ Mom meant ‘ not a doctor or lawyer .’

But you couldn’t stay in med school. You tried, you did. You took yourself as far as you could go. You pushed, pushed, tried so fucking hard. You didn’t sleep, skipped meals and social hour and ignored your phone when your friends called. And you were perfect. Straight A’s right up until the end.

And then Damien found you on the floor of your kitchen at the end of finals week. You’d burned as long and as bright as you could, but by the end, all you were was burnt out.

Your boys dragged you kicking and screaming to unenrollment.

Two months later, Gavin insisted that you do something. Not for the money, that wasn’t an issue. What he’d already earned off of his OnlyFans could carry you two for the rest of your lives, let alone what he was yet to make. When you two got serious, Gavin made it clear that you didn’t have to work, that you could leave school and chase a passion, chase a dream. But all you had was medical textbooks and the hazy vision of being a surgeon of some type some day. You wanted to put that prefix in front of your name, hang up your diploma in the living room so everybody could see it.

You didn’t know if you loved medicine. You thought that you probably just loved a job well done.

Your hair was a mess. You smoothed it down in the little mirror affixed to the door of your locker. You caught sight of your surname embroidered in gold on the breast of your uniform shirt. Sam had gotten it done the day after your interview. Vincent said that he’d never seen Sam be so sure of something so fast.

It was no use staring at your reflection. You’d always find something to tweak if you squinted hard enough. You shut your locker and made your way out of the bunk room.

Station 10-19 was nice, very nice. A huge locker room, individual shower stalls, full sized beds with pressed white sheets. The kitchen had two ovens, a huge fridge, and the biggest pantry you’d ever seen. The firehouses you’d visited while getting certified were much smaller, much less impressive. All of this must have cost a fortune.

“Shaw’s a master of budget balancing,” Vincent had told you that afternoon during your tour. “I swear, the dude spends hours sitting in his office crunching numbers. It’s honestly a little worrying.”

You’d met David Shaw in your interview, but Sam Collins was your direct report. Shaw was a big dude, but after meeting a few of the other firefighters, you just started considering yourself scrawny. The whole firehouse was full of mutant giants.

Everybody was nice, but Vincent acted like he’d just gained a new best friend when he’d introduced himself that afternoon. He was a tall, slender man with bright gray eyes and a sharp smile. You recognized his last name, Solaire. His dad was the chief of surgery at Daliah General, the only level one trauma center in the area. It was your top pick for your residency.

Solaire wasn’t a common name, but if Vincent was the son of a two time Harper-Avery winner, he didn’t show it. He moved with a cool confidence, and seemed to have that same confidence in you. He spoke to you like you knew what you were doing. Which, to be fair, you did. You just weren’t used to people treating you like it.

“Don’t let Sam’s grumpy attitude fool you,” Vincent grinned as he led you towards the ambulance. “He’s a softy. A bit rough around the edges, but soft for sure.”

You couldn’t imagine Sam Collins being soft, but you smiled and nodded anyway. Vincent showed you where everything was on the bus, and then reiterated the few things that you would likely actually use. The compression machine, the heart monitor, the AMBU bag.

When the first code blared in your ears just as Vincent finished shoving everything back into their assigned cubbies. He grinned and patted you on the back, jumping up to the front and hopping on the radio as he revved the bus’s engine.

Sam made his appearance a few seconds later, hopping into the bus and pointing you towards one of the two passenger seats in the back, strapping himself in. He nodded for you to do the same.

It was quiet for a long time. Vincent called a few things into the radio before shouting back to Sam.

“Single vic, third story apartment. Not sure the extent of the injuries. Landlord just found a blood trail.”

“Let’s prep for a GSW and a laceration.” Sam replied. He grabbed for a few things within reach and threw them into his jump bag. “BleedStop’s over your head, Probie, grab me a few.” He held out his hand. It took you a second to realize he was talking to you. You jerked and reached up blindly, coming back with a few red and white packages.

“Are these standard issue?” You asked softly, flipping one over in your hand. You heard Vincent laughing from up front. Sam grinned.

“You were in medical school?” Sam asked after a few minutes. You nodded. “Internal medicine, peds…”

“Surgical.” You answered his unasked question. You ducked your head, looked away. Sam was quiet for a long moment. “I was four years into my residency when I called it quits.” He said. When you looked up, he was focused on the computer output, a pinch in his brow. You didn’t dare ask a question, break his concentration, but something in your chest eased.

After roughly three minutes of sirens wailing and lights flashing, Vincent pulled up outside of a dilapidated, five story apartment building. This was the sort of street that you would refuse to let Gavin walk down alone, the sort of area you wanted Huxley next to you in. You shivered and kept close to Vincent as he loaded a jump bag on each of your shoulders.

“It’ll be bloody.” Sam cracked his neck in anticipation. “Just keep your cool. You don’t gotta do much this time around, Probie. Watch the two of us closely and try to keep up.” You nodded sharply and followed him into the building.

The landlord was waiting for you in the lobby (if this could be called a lobby). He was a short, round man with more bald spot than hair. He was tapping something out on his phone, the font blown up to such a big size you could read his message from this distance. You politely avoided looking at it, instead planting your gaze between his bushy eyebrows and trying to carry an air of confidence about you.

“Finally,” he huffed, attaching his phone to the little plastic holster on his belt, “took you guys long enough. It’s upstairs, third floor.” He slammed a set of keys into Sam’s hand and turned on his heel, retreating through an office door. You heard the lock slide in place before any of you could say anything.

“We’ve got the fastest response times in Dahlia.” Sam shouted after him, his face twisted up with annoyance. “Come on,” he turned towards the elevator and took a deep, calming breath. His rugged features somehow looked more handsome when pinched with frustration. The line between his eyebrows was present even as his face relaxed.

The elevator doors opened to a pool of drying, congealing blood. Vincent whistled, shaking his head.

“Dude,” he had the nerve to laugh, “these people really don’t like being alive. Whoever this is should have gone straight to the hospital.” The three of you piled in, stepping carefully around the blood. It resulted in you being awkwardly pressed against three separate walls. Vincent stretched to press the button for the third floor.

“Look at where we are.” You waved your hand around the concerningly rickety elevator. “If they can only afford to live here, I’d bet they don’t have health insurance either.”

Vincent’s face slackened in confusion, as though that thought had never occurred to him.

“Dahlia Gen has a free clinic for that very reason.” Sam said. The elevator groaned and he caught the handrail nervously.

The blood trail continued when the doors opened, leading you straight to the vic’s apartment. The door was painted a sloppy brown color, the latest in a long line of landlord-specials. It was peeling around the corners, revealing white, beige, yellow, green…

Sam inspected the door for a few seconds before leaning into his radio.

“Engine Two to Dispatch, confirm no PD?” He kept his voice low. His radio crackled as a voice called back.

“Confirmed, Engine Two.” Dispatch replied. “Paramedics were the only ones called to the scene.” Sam sighed softly and scratched his head.

“Cap?” Vincent asked.

“Proceed with caution.” Sam replied. “You two stay behind me. We don’t make any moves until we see what we’re dealing with.”

Sam stepped up to the door and knocked hard, three times, with the side of his fist. “DFD,” he shouted, “Paramedics, open up!”

There was no reply.

“Hello!” Sam called again. “Paramedics!”

Something shifted behind the door. You heard a curse, a stumble. Sam backed up and herded you and Vincent away from the door.

It swung open wide. The apartment inside was dark and barren, like somebody had just moved in. A slumped figure was leaning against the doorway. You could see where the bloodtrail was coming from. Their hand was pressed firmly against their side. The steady drip of their blood against the floor made your stomach turn.

Were you really ready for this? Maybe medical school wasn’t so bad.

“What?” They growled. Their shoulders were tensed and drawn up to their ears.

“Jesus.” Sam breathed. He was stunned into silence for a moment, but only a moment. He jerked and then moved slow, indicating his movements boldly, so as not to surprise them.

Even hunched over and bleeding, they cut an intimidating figure. Clad in a pair of ratty sweatpants and a muscle tee, you could see every inch of lean muscle and scar tissue that made them up. They were as tall as most of the firefighters in the 10-19. You thought they’d fit right in against Lieutenant Talbot’s frame, that they could hold their own in a fist fight against Captain Shaw.

“You can leave.” They spat, their teeth lined with blood. They had something wild in their eyes, and you were concerned for a moment that they would lash out at Sam to get him away. He held strong, though, didn’t back down or look away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” He pointed to their hand and cocked his head to the side.

“This is private property.” They gritted out, close to a growl.

“Private property owned by your landlord.” Sam nodded. “Who called us. You gonna bleed out on your feet or are you gonna let us in?” He put a hand out to steady them as they listed to the side. They jerked away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” They snapped, curling in on themself.

“Well, excuse me for trying to help you!” He held his hands up in surrender, telegraphing his movements even as he griped. “Keep barkin’ at me like that and I’ll let you bleed out.”

“Yeah well, my bite’s much worse.” They managed. They had gone a bit green and, when Sam reached for them again, they didn’t protest.

“Well, ain’t you just darlin’.” Sam drawled. His face had gone serious, his focus pulled to the blood dripping down their side and the leg of their pants. “Come on, let’s get you sat down before you fall out.”

Sam started steering them towards the patch-covered couch that sat in the center of the room. The apartment was a studio, although even that felt like a generous description. It was, really, a dingy, gray box. A sink sat dry in one corner next to a mini fridge and a poor excuse for a counter space. There was no bed, just the dirty, brown couch that looked as though it had been pulled from off the curb. A large section of the lumpy middle cushion was darkened with blood. There was one window that you didn’t think even you could fit out of, let alone your hulking patient. A shadeless lamp sat on the floor in the corner opposite the sink, casting the room in stark, dramatic shadow.

Sam deposited your patient on the couch, where they collapsed in a heap of muscle and blood. He snapped on a pair of white gloves and held a hand out to Vincent, who snagged a jump bag from your shoulder and supplied him with the gauze he was apparently reaching for. It would be difficult, you thought, to keep up with them at first. These two seemed to be so familiar, so connected that they didn’t have to talk to know what the other needed.

“Can you tell me your name?” Sam asked, raising his voice to try and cut through the buzz that blood loss left in the ear. “And where you are?”

“I’m fine,” your patient groaned, shoving at Sam as they tried to sit up again.

“Hold still .” Sam used his forearms to press them back into their couch without contaminating his gloves. “You’re gonna tear your stomach right open if you don’t ease back.”

“You need to work on your bedside manner, Doctor.” The patient grinned. Their face had gone sheet white.

“Well, good thing I’m not a doctor, Darlin’.” He replied. Actually, you thought, he was. If he had been in his residency, he would’ve had to have a medical degree. He was a doctor, license or not.

You reached for the BleedStop you’d stashed in the bus just as Sam’s hand swung back again. When you clapped the pack down in his palm, he turned, surprised. Vincent bumped your shoulder with his, smiling broadly.

“This is gonna sting.” Sam informed them before dumping the BleedStop over the wound and packing it with gauze. They shouted, short and hard, as they clamped a hand down on Sam’s shoulder. Vincent jerked as though to pull them off, but Sam shook his head sharply. Vincent backed off. “Saline,” He said, holding his hand back to you. You dug through your bag quickly before finding a pint of it. Vincent supplied a large syringe.

Watching Sam work on a patient was like watching an artist paint. He had an intense air of focus about him, and his whole face lit up when he bent over the wound. He watched with rapt attention as the bleeding slowed and clotted. After a few minutes, he pulled a syringe full of saline from the bag and rinsed out the BleedStop.

It was a stab wound, surrounded by ugly, red and purple bruising. It looked as though someone had punched the blade into them.

“Can I lift this up?” Sam asked, indicating their shredded and blood-blackened shirt. They nodded sharply once. You watched as their steely face crumbled a bit as Sam touched them. Their bottom lip trembled. “Hey,” Sam said softly, freezing until they met his eye, “it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He said it like it was true, like there was no doubt about it.

In the end, despite the stab wound and the slash on their thigh and the obviously broken ribs and their split lip and their bloodied knuckles, they refused to go to the hospital. Sam spent fifteen odd minutes arguing with them. Honest-to-God arguing, shouting, cursing, lecturing. You thought that was probably against protocol, but he was right, so you weren’t going to snitch to Captain Shaw about it. The stab wound was concerning enough. The broken ribs were dangerous. One bone fragment, one twist of the skin to make it a compound fracture, one stutter of their lungs in just the wrong way. It could all prove deadly. They let Sam use suture glue on the stab wound and the cut, let him dab anesthetic against their knuckles, let him press a cold compact into their ribs. They didn’t let anybody else touch them.

“There is a free clinic at Dahlia Gen.” Sam reiterated one last time as they hurried you out of the door. “If you start bleeding or have trouble breathing,” he patted around his uniform until he supplied a scrap of paper and pen from his breast pocket. He scrawled out a phone number and handed it over. Their fingers spread red across the crumpled, white paper. “Please call me.”

The door shut hard in your faces.

You made your way back through the blood stained halls. Sam turned the keys in to the landlord. You walked out into the crisp, winter air.

“Are they all like that?” You asked as you took several deep breaths, free from the iron tang of blood that had permeated their apartment.

“No.” Sam shook his head sharply.

“It’s mostly drunk people.” Vincent assured you.

“And kitchen knife incidents.” Sam chimed in.

“And cardiac events.” Vincent nodded, hopping into the driver’s seat. You settled into the back of the ambulance with Sam and studied your hands. There was blood on the cuff of your uniform. Sam huffed and reached under his seat, pulling out a fresh uniform shirt.

“Here, Probie.” He said.

“Does it get easier?” You asked all of a sudden as you took the shirt from him. Sam smiled.

“The blood?” He asked. “Yeah. Yeah, the blood gets easier. But not much else.”

The two of them were right. Somewhere along your drive back to the 10-19, you got a call for a possible cardiac event that turned out to be an anxiety attack. You held the hyperventilating kid’s hand, walked them through breathing exercises you’d learned for Lasko while Sam assured their mom it was nothing to worry about. Straight from there, you got a call for an older woman, Mrs. Henrick, who claimed she fell and broke her hip. She was apparently a widow and a frequent caller. She just wanted Sam to put her kettle on and to ogle at Vincent for a while. He was impressively obliging, and matched her flirting one for one. It was a few more hours of just that; bouncing from call to call, emergency to emergency, but nothing quite like that first one.

It was nearing dawn by the time Engine Two was finally cleared to return to the 10-19. You were just this side of exhausted, the adrenaline that kept you pushing through the night long worn off. Vincent walked you through the breakdown of the bus. Checking off the medical supplies one by one on your little inventory sheet was almost meditative. It lulled you towards the rest you knew was coming. You were on call for the next twelve hours, and then you’d be off for another twelve. You longed for that plush bunk room and the reprieve a few hours of rest would give you.

Captain Shaw was in the kitchen when you and Vincent clambered in. He had looked so severe when you met him in your interview, clad in the navy button down of his daily uniform. He must have been getting on duty, because now he was wearing a tight, heather gray t-shirt with the Dahlia Fire Department logo emblazoned across his back. The shirt was stretched across his chest and arms, giving you a full view of his musculature. Sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting his dark features in warm, welcoming light. He was handsome. You couldn’t wait until you had an excuse to introduce him to Gavin. He’d have a field day with a man like David Shaw.

“There can’t be that much blood in the human body,” he rumbled into his coffee cup. Sam laughed from his spot across the large, family style dining table that filled up most of the floor space in the room. There were pans out near the six burner stove; sausage, bacon, some weird looking strips of what must have been a vegetarian substitute. There was a plate stacked with pancakes, another stacked with waffles, and a bowl filled with sliced fruit. Two cartons of eggs were waiting, untouched, next to the stove.

“You would be surprised how much a person can bleed and keep going if they have the will power.” Sam shrugged. He was flipping through a pile of paperwork, probably the releases from their calls tonight.

“Captain Shaw cooks every morning.” Vincent indicated towards the feast on the kitchen counter. “You should eat. Once morning shift gets in, it’ll be gone.”

“And they refused transport to the hospital?” Shaw scoffed.

“Yup.” Sam popped the ‘p’ in his mouth, shaking his head. He handed over a file from the top of his pile to Shaw, who flipped through their release form with only a bit of interest.

His dark eyes flicked over the page once, and then widened. He sat up straighter, bending to get a better look at it. His eyes landed on the bottom of it, where your patient had printed their name next to their sloppy signature.

Shaw’s coffee cup shattered in his hand, sending shards of ceramics and hot coffee all over him, the table, and the offending report.

#redacted asmr #my redacted content #redacted sam #redacted vincent #redacted darlin #redacted freelancer #firefighter au #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted fic #my redacted writing

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marvelouslizzie · 2 years ago

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unconventional methods - chapter 2

Summary: Bucky Barnes struggles with his feelings towards Bunny, leading him to make a big mistake. Now he must make it right. It means doing something he is uncomfortable with.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)

Word Count: 6.7K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, texting, overthinking, self-doubt, misunderstandings, pet names, video call, mutual masturbation, slight dirty talk if you squint, metal arm use, use of a dildo, teasing, small dose of sub/dom dynamic, no mention of y/n.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who showed interest in the first chapter. I really didn't expect this story to get the attention it did. Means a lot to me. If you didn't read the first chapter, you definitely should before reading this one.

unconventional methods - chapter 1

marvelous lizzie's masterlist

This story will end with chapter three, which will most likely come out the following Sunday (12th March)

Once again >> indicates incoming messages and <<; indicates outgoing messages.

Once again a big thank you to @notafunkiller and @es1dit for everything. Extra thanks to @notafunkiller for the beta-read and for helping me to improve the story. You two are the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question or comment regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Gifs belong to @fysebastianstan I wanted to add them through Tumblr gifs but couldn't find them that way. I hope it's alright to use them and if not, I can remove them if requested.

<<< Previous Chapter

After that magical night, Bucky found himself overthinking again. He was definitely struggling with the feelings he had for her. They were sexual, but that was not all. He had been in only sexual relationships before the war. It was like an agreement: purely sexual and for fun. Some girls wanted a bit more experience before finding the love of their lives, and it was totally fine, but this… this definitely wasn’t the same. He was feeling possessive over her and the feeling was so strange, especially considering they did not even meet face to face.

Of course, he knew he wasn’t the only person she was sharing this side of herself with. Posting adult content was literally her job. There was no doubt other men would like to get closer to her and she would probably talk to them a little, see how she feels and if things fall into place, they would get to see this side of her and she would get aroused just for them. A rare sight. Anybody would be lucky to witness that.

He still couldn’t believe she was into him. It was probably more of the idea of him, not the real him since she didn’t know who he actually is, right? He knew his dick wasn’t a disappointment, his body was fine, but definitely could be better. There was always space for improvement. She did not see the metal arm or his face. She only heard his voice, saw some parts of his body, and created a different version of Bucky. Not even Bucky, James. Some 33-year-old dude named James who was partially good-looking. In her mind, he must be someone else, completely different from reality.

That was what she should be for him too, right? Some random super attractive girl on the internet who was willing to talk to him? Nothing more. Yet he couldn’t force himself to feel nothing but sexual attraction toward her. He tried to focus on work, but he couldn’t. Mission reports were always boring anyway. How were they supposed to distract him?

>> Hey handsome, I hope you’re having a good day.

Her texting him doesn’t help, either. It’s just making it harder for him to stay away. He needed to distance himself, get a new perspective and maybe, maybe have a chance to realize he was being ridiculous. But she was so hard to resist her, especially when she was just wishing him a good day like this, with no expectation or pressure.

<< Hey, Bunny. It’s boring, but I’ll survive. I hope you are having a good day.

>> Oh, I’m having a great day. Especially after last night…

Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath when he read the message. He just wished she wouldn’t bring it up. It was great, he can’t deny it, but he knew… he fucking knew it was nothing special for her, and remembering that just broke his heart a little more. She shouldn’t have to act like it meant something to her. The idea of her faking something was just unbearable.

<< You know you don’t have to…

>> I don’t have to what?

<< I’m grateful that you made me feel special. It felt great, but I know I’m not special or anything and you don’t have to act like I am. It’s fine.

Her responses came in so quickly, he had a bit of a hard time following them.

>> What the fuck, James?

>> What the actual fuck?

>> Do you think I am doing this with everyone?

>> Is that how low you think of me?

>> You think I open my messages, talk to the ones that seem okay, and send them special photos in my spare time?

>> Why would I fucking do that? What am I gaining? Loyal followers? More paying customers? People don’t wanna pay shit for things they can get for free. I know that better than anyone. It’s my job!

>> You think I pick the ones that are good-looking, and just have fun? If that were the case you wouldn’t even have a chance! Do you know why? You don’t even have a profile picture! I didn’t even know your name for days! I don’t even know if you are single or married or divorced!

>> If you think I’m treating loyal customers like this or something you are wrong. God, I feel so stupid because I thought you were different. Why would you be any different than the others? Just because you respected my boundaries, just because you didn’t ask for private photos, and just because you reminded me of those gentlemen from 40s movies, it doesn’t mean you are not after the same thing they are.

>> You have no idea what I am risking just by talking with you. God, I’m so stupid.

>> You got what you want and now you are done with the small talk. I get it. I’m backing off. Sorry for disturbing you.

<< Bunny, bunny, bunny!

<< No, please, stop! That’s not what I meant.

<< Please, give me a chance to explain myself.

<< Please.

<< That’s not what this was, believe me.

>> Explain what? How this is nothing special for you? It was just a bit of fun time with the girl you were following online? I don’t want to hear it.

>> You don’t have to explain anything to me. You don’t owe me an explanation, I’m just a random girl who shares adult content. Obviously, I have no soul or feelings.

<< I’m the one who has feelings for you, okay?! I didn’t think you would find me interesting or special because I don’t feel like I am.

<< I am sorry. I think I was just projecting. That’s what my therapist would say.

<< I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable with my feelings. I thought they would be totally unrequited.

>> You have feelings for me?

>> You better not be lying to get out of trouble, James!

<< I’m not, I swear. Just give me a chance, okay?

>> Fine. You get one chance. Tonight. You explain yourself on a video call or I’m not talking to you anymore.

<< Whatever you want, doll. Whatever you want. Just don’t step out of my life.

***

The day did not seem to pass fast enough. It felt like time was standing still just to torture Bucky more. The work was much more boring than usual: a lot of paperwork, signatures, and chasing the right people. Not that he was chasing anyone. He was sitting and pitying himself while waiting for Natasha to show up. He just wanted to get up and leave, but apparently, it wasn’t possible. When Natasha finally stepped inside, Bucky groaned out of frustration.

“Oh, fucking finally, Romanoff.”

Natasha didn’t even look at him.

“I was busy. What do you need?”

“A couple of signatures.” She leaned in and started to sign the papers as quickly as possible. She was never reading what she was signing because who had time to read a 25-page-long mission report? Apparently, Bucky Barnes because he had to write it from the scratch. Like his day wasn’t horrible enough... “I wish we could just go on missions, and that would be it.”

“Oh, that’s the dream, Barnes. That’s the dream.” She finally put her pen down. “I’ve been writing the mission reports for months. It’s your turn now, stop complaining.”

“I know, I know.” He accepted the defeat much easier than he normally would.

“Are you alright?”

Bucky looked up at her from his seat. Was he alright? Definitely not. He could feel a heavy knot inside his chest, burning his lungs and stomach while he was waiting for tonight. Of course, he wasn’t going to say that to Romanoff.

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look like you are. Whatever it is, stop overthinking.”

“Easier said than done,” he murmured.

“Look, I know it’s not an on-off switch, but you gotta try a little bit harder. Shift your focus on something else or just face whatever makes you this… uneasy.”

“I’m gonna face it. Shifting my focus is not helping.”

Natasha gave him a suspicious look. She had no idea what this was about, but she had a feeling it might be because of the pretty girl she suggested to him. Or was it just wishful thinking? No, wishful thinking wasn’t something she did often. She was always a big realist and something was definitely up with Barnes.

“Good.” She simply answered. She knew him well enough to guess pressuring him to talk wouldn’t work on him. “We have a meeting tomorrow.”

Bucky groaned in frustration because he was just done with the mission report and now SHIELD was ready to send them in another mission again.

“We need a break.”

“This one is pretty urgent. Apparently, it’s been an undercover operation for a while now and they finally got the info they need. We’ll need to leave right after the meeting.”

“An undercover operation, huh? Interesting.”

“Be here at 9. Fury wants us all present, it’s really important.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be there.”

***

Bucky had no idea when the video call was gonna happen, but he was already feeling too self-conscious. His face was known to most people all over the world since he was accused of killing the king of Wakanda. Then working for SHIELD became a big deal. He wasn’t sure how Bunny would react when she realized he was the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t ready for that.

>> Are you there? I’m available for that video chat.

<< I am.

>> OK. I’m calling you.

He quickly turned his laptop on, hoping he would keep the camera off for the conversation. Maybe just hearing his voice would be enough for her.

“James?” Her voice was so soft and silky. Hearing her saying his name like that made him shiver a little.

“Yes, doll?”

“Why is your camera off?” Of course, she wasn’t gonna let it go. What was he even thinking?

“I am not…” He actually didn’t know what to say. “I don’t feel comfortable…”

“You don’t feel comfortable with me? Is that what you’re saying?” She definitely sounded offended.

“No, it’s not like that. I don't feel comfortable... and you might not feel comfortable either."

“Why?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He was hoping she would just let it go.

“Try me.” She didn’t.

“Please, doll… Let’s just talk.” He was practically begging at this point.

“Jamie, if you don’t turn the camera on, I’m leaving. We can’t continue like this.” She sounded so determined, it was scary. And her calling him Jamie? A part of him melted. He had noticed how her calling him Jamie influenced him in this way. Maybe because his mom called him Jamie when he was little. Bucky came later when he was a teenager. Before that, he was Jamie at home.

“Don’t. Please, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Call you Jamie?” The defensive tone of her voice was breaking his heart.

“Don’t leave.” He quickly turned the camera on, afraid she might just leave. Then he heard her gasp. Fuck, she’s scared, he thought. “I told you it might be uncomfortable.”

She quickly pulled herself together.

“Yeah, it’s so uncomfortable looking at that pretty face.” She managed to say, trying to hide her surprise. “Or those blue eyes. Do you ever look in the mirror Bu-bunny?”

“Bunny?” He repeated confused. “You are the bunny, not me, doll.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged, licking her lips nervously. “I can’t believe you have been hiding this face all this time.” she tried to focus on him. “Why did you even think I would be uncomfortable?”

“Don’t you know… who I am?” he sounded nervous again, thinking he might have to explain his past. It’s always tedious. How can you say you were a brainwashed assassin in a less threatening way? You can’t. That was the problem.

“I know you were the Winter Soldier if that’s what you are asking.”

Oh.

“That explains the reaction.”

“No, it was because of your pretty face. Not because of your past. I’m in no position to judge you for your past. Whatever you did, you had no control over it. That’s pretty obvious.”

“How can you be so sure?” His question came instantly.

“Maybe I can tell you how and why one day, but not today.” She sounded a bit uncomfortable, so Bucky didn’t want to push her.

“Whenever you want, Bunny. I will always be here to listen.”

“Can I see your arm?” The change of topic came too suddenly. Her question caught Bucky off guard.

“Huh?”

“Your metal arm. It’s vibranium, right?” She was talking about the arm he has been trying to hide so hard. Does she really want to see that arm?

“Yes, it is.” He tried to sound as normal as possible.

“Can I see it?” She repeated eagerly.

Without saying anything, Bucky curled up his sleeve to reveal a part of his arm, still feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“Wow.” She looked stunned. “It looks… so pretty. The gold details. Wow.”

Her expression was something that can’t be faked. She was so genuinely surprised and interested. It gave Bucky the confidence he needed.

“Wanna see the rest?”

Bunny nodded excitedly, making Bucky smile. He took his henley off pretty quickly, and his metal arm, broad chest, and dog tags were on full display.

“Now I know why you only had one arm in every picture you sent me. Smart move, Sergeant Barnes.” Her eyes were still on his body, focusing on his arm. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he felt this desired. Oh, god she definitely knows who I am, he thought. Getting called by his rank did things to him. He could feel the blood rushing to the other places. It’s not the time, it’s not the time, he tried to remind himself, yet a low groan escaped his lips before he could control it.

“So am I gonna see the rest, Sergeant?”

He gave her a confused look. When he asked that question he meant the rest of his arm, but apparently Bunny had different ideas.

“You mean…”

“The rest of your body, yes.”

“I thought we were gonna talk.” He tried to hide how much he was actually enjoying this change.

“We were, but I changed my mind.” Bucky smiled once again. Maybe I still got it, he thought.

“Because of the arm?”

“Because of you and yes, the arm too since it’s a part of you.”

“I never thought…” He couldn’t get to finish that thought.

“Your arm would be a turn-on? Well, it is. You should get used to that.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” Bucky admitted, then he looked back at the screen. “You gotta share more to see more, Bunny.”

“You are a fast learner, Sergeant. I like that.”

“I told you, you can always count on that.”

Bunny took her shirt off, instead of answering him. Bucky’s expression changed pretty quickly when he noticed she had no bra on. God, he needed to touch her, feel her and make her feel good, but he has no idea if that was even possible. His eyes focused on her nipples. How could they look this delicious over a video call? He wanted to latch on them, suck until she was a crying mess under him.

“You okay, Sarge?”

“God, Bunny, if you call me Sarge or Sergeant one more time, I will come inside my pants.”

“Noted,” she said with a teasing voice. “We wouldn’t want that, would we? I wanna see you first. Then we can make that happen.”

“I wanna see you, too. Coming hard while I tell you dirty things that turn you on.”

“Wow, the old man has a dirty mouth. Who would’ve thought?”

“Are you teasing me?” He asked with a small smile on his lips.

“I am challenging you.” Bucky gave her a suspicious look.

“To do what?”

“To talk dirty for real, James. You are ‘all talk and no action’ sometimes.”

“Oh, is that what we are doing now?” He already sounded challenged by her words. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t like a gentleman.”

“I do like a gentleman, outside the bed. In the bed, they are boring.”

“Okay, okay.” He nodded, trying to decide what to do next. “Good to know. Now, take your clothes off. I wanna see that body.”

“Is that an order, Sarge?”

“Yes, it is, Bunny.”

“And what if I don’t follow it?” Her voice was so fucking cute, Bucky did not know how she managed to be like this.

“Then you will be punished accordingly.” He didn’t even think before answering.

“Over the phone?”

“No. I will punish you in person. I will find wherever you live and I will punish you for not following a clear order.” The words spilled out of his mouth without much thought. The second he was done, he realized what he said. God, if she had got scared, she would have had every right to do so.

“That sounds more like a promise.” Her answer was unexpected and didn’t seem wary. Was she not scared of him? At all?

“It can be, but you wouldn’t wanna get punished.”

“Hmm…” She thought for a second. “Tell me, what do you want? A good girl or a bad one?”

“I want you, Bunny. Whichever you are.” His answer must be unexpected because Bunny’s expression changed for a second. She looked emotional and vulnerable, but she quickly pulled herself together.

“I am a little bit of both.”

“Then both it is.”

Bunny quickly took her remaining clothes off instead of responding, giving him a look. “Your turn.”

Bucky did the same.

“Now what do you want me to do?” She asked eagerly.

“Touch yourself for me.” She could feel how aroused he was just by hearing his voice. The full view of his erection was helping, too.

“Touch yourself first.” She sounded so demanding and Bucky couldn’t find the strength to refuse. His flesh hand wrapped around his already painful erection. “With the metal one, Sarge.”

Bucky quickly looked back at her, with confusion written all over his face.

“I promise, I am not a groupie or anything. I just think it would look so hot.”

“A groupie?”

“Google it if you don’t know what it means. I am not gonna embarrass myself by explaining.” Bucky laughed a little.

“I know what it means, Bunny. I just wasn’t sure why I would think you're a groupie.”

“Oh…” She looked at the camera for a second. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” He was completely lost.

“That you have fans.”

The look he had was unforgettable: completely lost.

“I have fans?” He repeated mindlessly.

“Nobody told you that, huh?”

“Nope. I have fans?”

“You do.” Bunny giggled. He was really an adorable old man. “People who defend you online. I will explain more later, okay?”

“Okay.” He still sounded confused, but he let it go. The sight in front of him was more interesting than a group of people defending him.

“Metal hand, around your cock.” She reminded him.

“Right.” She watched him wrap his vibranium fingers around his erection. It was truly a sight.

“Now, your turn.”

“What do you want me to do?” She quickly asked.

“Do you have a dildo around?��

Bunny was silent for a second. “Yes?” Her tone was hesitant.

“Do you have a favorite?”

She tried not to smile. “Of course.”

“Take that one.” He sounded so confident. It was a huge turn-on.

“Wait a second.” She left the frame for a while, and Bucky could hear her walking around, looking through her stuff. Finally, she came back with it.

“You like it big,” Bucky stated after seeing the dildo. It was probably as big as his own dick. No wonder she was so into the pictures he sent.

“Is that a problem?” Her question was genuine. “I can get a smaller one.”

“Why would I want that?” He had no idea. “I want you to enjoy this. That’s why I asked for your favorite.”

Bunny’s concern vanished quickly.

“Now what, Sarge?”

“Now we both start to play with ourselves.”

“Sounds good.” Bucky watched her brushing her fingers against her clit while letting out delicious, low moans. It was nothing too pornographic, and he could feel more blood rushing to his lower side. He started to work on himself pretty slowly with his vibranium hand since it was new to him. He never used his metal fingers before so he was trying to be careful.

“Use lube.”

“Huh?” Bucky looked like a fish out of water.

“Use lube, it will make it better.” Her fingers were still working on her clit and lips as she spoke. “Or whatever you have. A cream works too, I guess.”

“I have lube, doll. How do you think my dick survived you for this long?”

She giggled again, and all Bucky wanted to do was kiss her hard. Her lips, her nipples, her wet pussy. Anything… he just needed to taste her.

“You don’t even need lube, do you?” he asked, trying to distract himself.

“Nope.” She moved her finger away from her pussy, just to show him how wet she is, and the response she got was a loud moan.

“Fuck.” He took a deep breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was such a raw reaction, and Bunny loved every second of it. “All for me?”

“All for you, Sarge.”

His fingers started to work faster, and thanks to the lube, it was much better than he expected. He was surprised at how the metal felt against his cock. Definitely didn’t feel like flesh, but it was good. Really good since he could actually move his metal hand faster.

“Can I put this in me?” She asked Bucky for permission to finally use the dildo, and god, he had to stop for a second, not to come instantly.

“Yes. Yes, you can.” He breathed out, struggling to form sentences at this point, but he managed it.

She pushed the dildo inside her effortlessly and let out a loud moan as she moved it in further. Bucky took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. There is no way you are not gonna come before her. He was talking to himself. Just calm down.

"Ride that dildo, Bunny. Imagine it's me."

“You want this to be over soon, huh?” Her teasing tone helped him relax. He liked that he wasn’t alone in this.

“You gotta meet me in the middle, Bunny. Otherwise, it’s gonna be embarrassing.”

She didn’t tease or challenge him this time. She just listened to his order and started to ride the dildo as she would ride him. Her movements, the noises she made… She was making things even harder. He felt like he lost control of his fingers. He wanted to slow down, try to come with her, but his metal hand wasn’t listening to him.

“F-fuck.” He breathed out. “I’m- I’m gonna come.” He sounded so pained like he was disappointing her.

“I’m gonna come, too.” Her response was quick. “Sstop holding yourself back.” She was panting, involuntarily showing him how close she actually was.

“Shit. Pinch your nipple for me if you like that.” His metal hand was moving fast on his cock, it was oozing with precum already.

“I do.” She was out of breath already. “I do.” Pinching her nipple was enough to push her over the edge. “Oh, fuck…” When the first wave of her orgasm hit her, he could see how strong it was. “Fuck, Bucky…” The moment she said his name, he knew he was gone. There was no way he could hold back. “This feels so good. So fucking good.”

“God, Bunny.” He let out a loud moan as his come hit the laptop screen. He gasped as he continued to move his hand until he felt painfully overstimulated.

He had no idea how long the silence between them lasted.

“James?” He heard her silky voice before opening his eyes back up.

“I’m here, Bunny.” She smiled in response. She could see he was still there, but she wasn’t gonna say that.

“That was amazing.” Bunny looked so blissed out.

“Tell me about it.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe how strong that orgasm was.

He heard Bunny taking another deep breath while looking back at him.

“Look, I know this is not the time…” Bunny sounded more serious than before. The tone got his attention back to her.

“Tell me.” He suddenly sounded so demanding.

“The timing is horrible.”

“I don’t care.” He smiled, trying to assure her.

“I won’t be around for a while.” His face dropped when he heard her words. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you tonight. I won’t be online or posting new content.”

"Is something wrong?" He sounded so worried, so panicked. As crazy as it might have been, he didn't want to lose her, especially after this.

“No, no, no.” She quickly assured him. “It's something I have to do. I was working on something for a long time and now it might come to an end. Which is a good thing since that's what I was trying to achieve. I just need to deal with it, then I will be back and I'll explain everything, okay?” Bucky nodded. “Just know that I'll be busy, but I'll come back, okay? No need to worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you.” That was the truth. Even if he knew she was fine, not hearing from her would worry him. “Thank you for telling me.”

***

The next morning, Bucky woke up feeling much better than he ever felt since he was a free man. Last night, things exceeded his expectations. He noticed how much he was overthinking everything, how he never thought she'd be so okay with who he was. He never thought she would be still attracted to him after seeing him. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he had an ugly face. The problem was the things that face was associated with and, yes, he was still convinced she was way out of his league. But she didn’t seem to care, and that was all that mattered to him.

He quickly got ready. His morning routine was simple, so he could just leave in half an hour: a quick shower, a simple breakfast, and putting on appropriate clothes were enough. After he was done with the essentials, he found a bit of time to send Bunny a good morning message. She might not be able to respond, since she told him she was gonna be busy these days, but he still felt like doing it. And after last night, he had no intention to refrain from following his wishes. Not anymore.

But when he opened the app, he was simply shocked, horrified even… Because Bunny was gone. Completely gone. Her account was deactivated, and only their old messages were still there.

The panic scattered throughout his body like rapid fire, spreading from his chest and burning everything on its path. He had no idea what to do. He didn't have her number or any social media accounts if she had any. He didn’t even know where she lived. Yes, sure, Bunny told him she was going to be away for a while and wouldn't be able to share anything, but deleting her whole account? That was completely unexpected and alarming. He rubbed his face with both of his hands, trying to figure out a way to make sure she was fine.

Slowly, the overthinking returned and took complete control of him. What if she just played it cool yesterday but wanted to vanish after learning who he actually was? The Winter Soldier was a terrifying figure, he would have not blamed her if that had been the case, yet he would have felt betrayed and disappointed. He tried to think of a moment or a small detail that showed she was just trying to act her way out of a dangerous situation, but nothing came to his mind. She was surprised, of course, but after that initial shock, she was back to her normal self. She even wanted to see him more intimately. Was it because she didn’t feel safe anymore? Could she possibly act so flawlessly and show no fear while trying to get away? A part of him didn't believe that couldn’t be true. She was one of the most authentic people he met, even though they did not actually meet in person. That was why he was pulled towards her this much. Another part of him thought this is basically her job. She had to look convincing enough, but looking and acting were completely two different things, and Bucky wasn’t sure of anything anymore. He was so focused on trying to find a logical explanation for everything that he almost didn't hear his phone ring.

When Bucky grabbed back his phone, he saw the name Sam Wilson on the screen. He didn’t feel like answering, but Sam was stubborn as usual. He called him back again in a second, and Bucky had no choice but to answer at the end.

“Hey, Buck. You ready buddy? I’m on my way and I can give you a lift.”

Bucky made an unintelligible sound, not knowing how to answer. He already forgot about the meeting and the time.

“Please, tell me you are ready. The meeting is in half an hour.”

“I am.” He finally managed to say something back. His own voice sounded robotic and the words were forced, but he had to go through this day to find a way to reach Bunny. Maybe he could ask for Fury’s help to locate her. It would take a lot of convincing, but he would do it for her. To make sure she was safe and sound. To do that, he had to go to this briefing.

“Okay, I’ll be there in 5.”

***

As Bucky and Sam finally arrived at the SHIELD headquarters, Bucky muttered a simple thank you. They didn't talk much during the ride, which wasn’t unusual, yet Sam suspected something was wrong. Bucky was usually calm and collected. He wouldn't engage in small talk or chat about random topics, but this time he seemed nervous. Sam wanted to ask what was wrong, but after all the time they spent together, he knew it was better to just wait for a sign. That was always more effective. Bucky would recoil into his shell like a freaking turtle if you made a move too soon, and that was the last thing they needed.

As for Bucky, he couldn't stop wondering about all the possibilities in the world and what he should do next. He would have to talk to Fury privately, ask for help, and get out of this mission. After that, he would go on whatever mission they decided to throw his way. No problem. None at all. Just let me be sure she is fine.

While still thinking about the plan in his mind, Bucky found an empty spot in the meeting room and sank down. He was checking his phone regularly to see if there was anything from Bunny or if maybe her profile would be back up, but no. There was nothing at all, and his worry was growing every second. He had no idea how he was supposed to go through this meeting at all.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to end one of the biggest undercover operations in the history of SHIELD.” Fury’s voice got the attention of everyone in the room. “We are going to hit HYDRA where it hurts the most. Innocents will be saved by cutting HYDRA’s biggest financial income. It doesn't get any better than this.” Fury talking about HYDRA got Bucky out of his own head for a second. “This operation has been going on for quite some time and there’s no one better than Agent Elvisa to explain the details before we get to action.” Fury turned his eyes to the side, moving his hand up to introduce the mysterious agent. What Bucky didn't expect was to see Bunny, in flesh and blood, right in front of him. She was wearing a generic SHIELD uniform, her hair neatly tied up in a ponytail, looking composed.

“Thank you, Director Fury.” Hearing her silky voice made Bucky realize he wasn’t dreaming. His eyes widened when he realized he was really standing there, looking perfect in that ugly outfit. He could feel a hole forming in his stomach while Agent Elvisa started to explain the details. She was actively trying to avoid meeting his eyes while talking, showing some statistics and the essential, but Bucky couldn’t hear anything. His ears were ringing.

Since Bunny kept avoiding the eye contact with him, Bucky’s glance turned over to Natasha. She was the one who suggested her, after all. Did she know about this? The woman who he thought was a complete stranger was actually a SHIELD agent. There was no way Natasha did not know this. Was this all an elaborate prank? Maybe orchestrated by Natasha. That would make perfect sense.

Bucky understood that HYDRA was making a lot of money from their human trafficking network, and SHIELD was about to destroy it. He would have loved to focus more on the details since this would have been a personal case for him in another context. He was one of their victims after all. Yet his palms were sweating as he thought about confronting her. Even when he tried hard to understand, his brain didn’t compute any of the information she was giving. It was too loud, too uncomfortable. He felt thirsty and nauseous at the same time.

After the meeting was over, Bucky jolted out of his seat to catch her. He needed a second to talk to her, privately, to understand what the fuck was going on. He thought he deserved that much explanation before going on another mission after everything that happened between them.

She was talking to someone, but Bucky didn’t pay attention to their conversation. He stopped right next to her, invading all of her personal space without considering how it might look from the outside.

“We need to talk.” His voice was so harsh, it made her flinch. She looked up and met his eyes for the first time, and he could clearly see she was uncomfortable.

“She was…” The man she was talking to tried to interject, but Bucky was having none of it.

“I’m talking to Agent Elvisa.” God, the way he said her name was stone-cold. It sounded like he wanted to spit her name out. He subtly grabbed her arm. “We need to talk. Right now.”

***

Bucky’s hand didn’t leave her arm until they were tucked inside the closest empty office. He was trying to control himself, but it was so hard when a million questions were running through his head. Yet, he managed to choose one to ask.

“Why?” His eyes were like two daggers.

“Why what?” She managed to say back, a little terrified.

“Why did you do this to me?” The way Bucky asked the question broke her heart. She could hear the disappointment, the pain and betrayal in his voice. “I just need to know why you did this to me.”

“What are you talking about? What did I do to you?” She looked completely clueless, and it hurt Bucky even more. “Look I know…” She tried to explain, but he didn’t let her.

“Was this a joke? Did Natasha put you up to this?” He talked so fast and harshly. “Or was this a bet between co-workers?” She was silent. Completely silent. Trying to understand what he was talking about.

“You think I played with you?” She asked the question like she couldn’t believe him.

“Didn’t you, Agent Elvisa?” Again, her code name sounded so harsh on his lips. She wasn’t Bunny anymore.

“Playing with you was never my intention.”

“But you did it anyway.” God, he sounded so broken, on the verge of a breakdown.

“I didn’t even know I was talking to you until last night, Bucky.” She was getting emotional, but Bucky wasn’t in the state to notice it. “I could never…”

“You could never what? Make a fool of me? Break my heart? What did you think would happen when you decided to show up and give a presentation in that freaking room?” He raised his hand to point toward the general direction of the meeting room.

“I didn’t know you would be here!” She finally snapped and started to yell back. “I didn’t know I was talking to you until last night! Did you even listen to me back there?”

Bucky looked all lost, trying to understand why that would matter right now.

“I was on an undercover mission all this time. It had nothing to do with you! You think I made a fake account and started creating content just to mess with you? Why would I do that?”

“I… I don’t know.” He didn’t know anything. All he came up with was a list of possibilities.

“I have been doing this for months! I’m trying to catch those bastards, trying to look convincing enough and make them pay for what they did!” She stopped for a second, trying to collect herself. She didn’t want to cry. Not right then. “You think you are so important that I would create a whole ass account instead of just coming and asking you out?”

Her question silenced him for a second, making him wonder what the last sentence meant.

“What did you just say?”

Right at that moment, someone knocked on the door and stuck their head inside.

“Sergeant Barnes, we have to leave in 10 minutes.”

He didn’t even look their way. “I’m in the middle of something!” It was so harsh yet attractive.

“I know, but Director Fury…”

“Just tell him I need 5 more minutes.” The determination in his tone shook the agent and he left without saying anything in return. As soon as Bucky heard the door close, he repeated his question.

“What did you just say?”

“I don’t know what kind of sick game is going on, but I’m assuming you know I have a crush on you. Maybe Nat told you. I.. don’t know, but I would never do something like this. Not to you, not to anyone. I’d just ask you out and get rejected with pride.”

“You had a crush on me?” He couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“You… didn’t know?”

“No.” They both looked so confused.

“I assumed that you did.” She awkwardly looked around.

“Nope.”

The door was opened without a knock this time and both of them turned their heads simultaneously.

“Buck-” Sam couldn’t even finish his sentence. The double death glare startled him.

“For god's sake! I just need 5 minutes of privacy before I go there and fight. Is that too much to ask?”

“Okay, man, calm down. I’ll tell Fury.” He quickly looked at Bunny and then at Bucky before closing the door behind him. Both Bucky and Bunny turned their eyes to each other.

“Okay, look… I didn’t play with you.” She started to explain. “No one put me up on a mission to mess with you. I don’t know if this is a twisted game of fate or something else, but I didn’t know you would be involved in this operation, okay?”

“It’s Romanoff’s doing.” He finally put two plus two together, and she nodded slowly. It made sense to her, too. Then they heard Fury talking outside, and they knew that the time was running out.

“We don’t have time for this.” She stated while running her hand through her hair. “Just know that I was going to explain everything after the operation. That’s why I said what I said yesterday.”

Before he could answer her, the door opened once again. No knocking, no hesitation. Bucky was about to yell at them not to interrupt once again, but Fury was standing on the door sill, looking uneasy.

“Barnes, we have no time for…” His eyes darted between both of them. “...whatever this is. We have to leave before it’s too late.”

“Fine.” He finally responded after a short while. “I’m coming, but this conversation is not over, Agent Elvisa.”

“I’ll be waiting, Sergeant Barnes.”

Next Chapter >>>

***

taglist (I tried to tag everyone who showed interest in chapter two. If you would rather not be included please let me know.)

@geminiflanagansblog @sadg1rlsei @lia-winther @nanikio @barnesboo1967 @chinaza444 @kaitlin013106 @ryanmxrie @steverogers-wife @weaselbeedisneygeek @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @happyxdayxbitch @marvelogic @wintasssoldier @buckybarnessimpp @marvelsbitchh @alright-i-guesss @almosttoopizza @rabbitrabbit12321 @cookielovesbook-akie @whalien52bbgrl @cjand10 @scifinerd1818 @dellalyra @capswife @netherqueen23 @beware-my-thorns @freegardenbanananeck @iamstevessmile @raven1234321 @divadinag @noisesinthedark @amanda-says @ozwriterchick @sleyeveryday @arsonfrogger @lfaewrites @alana4610 @amberpanda99 @splendidreads @acatwriteshere

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stormloup · 29 days ago

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Being non-binary is like. Strangers will call me “ma’am” and “miss” and “young lady” on an almost daily basis. And that’s fine. It’s annoying, and it makes me wanna flip a table sometimes, but I don’t care. I don’t care. Why should I? They’re strangers. They’re just drops in the sea of the people I meet, the people I walk past in the street every day. I’m never gonna see them again, so why bother? I know my worth, I know who I am. I don’t need validation from a bunch of grownups I don’t even know the names of calling me “ma’am”. Besides, as sad as it is to admit, most people don’t know what non-binary means. Correcting them and trying to explain that every time would be tiresome, counterproductive and sometimes even dangerous. So I’d much rather keep my mouth shut than get into an argument with some stranger I don’t even care about.

But when my own mother tells me repeatedly that “you’re a woman, you’re a woman” and she won’t stop calling me her daughter, when my father tells the waiter— who’d been calling me “sir” for the good part of the evening because they thought I was a dude— that I’m his daughter, that “oh my daughter isn’t done with her meal yet”, without even giving me a chance to correct the waiter myself, or to simply choose whether I want to correct them, because we’re talking about me here and I alone should have a say on the matter, when they’d both been telling me my entire teenagehood that I’m “becoming a woman” every time some part of my puberty that is considered inherently feminine would hit, etc, etc.

That hurts.

I wish they would just have given me the opportunity as a kid to express myself however I wanted to, instead of assuming. And sure, I was born in the 2000s, being non-binary wasn’t “a thing” back then, in the eyes of society. The word “transsexual” was still being used by a good portion of cis people. But even if I’d been a trans dude, life would’ve been so much easier for me, if the world around me (and as a kid my parents were pretty much my whole world) had given me a chance to just choose how to express myself. With that, maybe today I wouldn’t be scared of coming out to my parents, just because I fear their reaction to finding out their precious daughter is alien to them now. That maybe she was alien to them her whole life and they had no idea.

#rant #lgbt #lgbtqia #nonbinary #enby

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lucysarah-c · 1 year ago

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Levi and the first encounter.

A choice with no regrets (MANGA) may be one of my favourite pieces of Aot. I get a lot of requests and asks of Underground! Levi not only from my fic (Holy ground) that picks up right after he joins the scouts, but also because I write a lot about meta analysis about it. Therefore, I've decided to start a "mini series" about Levi's adventures in the underground as a freshly independent thug meeting Farlan. Isabel hasn't joined yet.

I would consider this as a sort of "Levi and Farlan, two young men trying to survive in the underground,". Like those sitcoms of them living together as roommates and, despite trying to make it big in the underground, also struggling as young guys who have no money and share a flat. lol Maybe I'll write other ideas that I've about them, maybe you can send in your ideas.

So far these stories won't be really "romantically orientated," more like the tales of two friends.

Hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings! mentions of drugs, alcohol, prostitution, blood. This is the underground!

Word count: 3.4K

It was meant to be a trap, highlighting the part of “meant” because the plan never reached far enough to even begin with. Farlan was part of his own gang and the rumours of this “guy” parting ways with his own gang and being completely on his own reached to them, he was known to be strong and the gang he had parted with was one of the most powerful ones inside the underground. The underground was no place to be on your own, less to win the hate of your previous team.

Farlan had proposed the idea to the rest of his team and they all agreed to drag that guy to them. However…However the plan didn’t reach far when that guy beat the entire gang on his own without even sweating. Farlan soon realised that even if they had “only” that guy it would already be a good improvement, they had to get him at all costs.

“Hey! The military police is here!” Farlan shouted to the guy from over a roof, getting his attention “They heard about the movements here and they’re coming soon! If you stay there you’ll get caught!”

The rope hung from the wall and the guy observed with dead expression “Here! Use this rope to run from the roof!”

“Why would I want a suspicious-looking guy like you to help me” Levi said before climbing over a half rotten wall and leaving.

That was their first encounter. Farlan insisted to his own team that they should lure him there, to them. But his gang, far from wanting Levi in their team, wanted him to pay for what he did. Farlan's continuous insistence that they should invite him in instead of holding the struggle wasn’t winning him any support. Levi was new on the west district of the underground, territory that belonged to the gang that Farlan’s was part of and they were not going to stand the chance of a bratty dude to pop up at their place and make them look weak.

Unlucky for them, lucky Levi, even when he was outnumbered, he had easily won, once again. And the rumours on that side of the underground were quickly running on. First time, may be a coincidence and Levi “may have” stepped on other’s gang territory. The second one, he wasn’t going to let it pass. They had gone for him on full will and he was going to let them know that going for his blood was not gonna bring them any good. Therefore when Levi infiltrated their main house to get his message across, not only he had found little, no nothing. But dirt, dirt everywhere. Levi grimaced in disgust until the noise of a distance room dragged him to that direction. Levi turned to his right where the sound of a beating taking place echoed. What seemed to be the boss was grabbing the guys that were kneedled on the floor by the grey hairs.

“You fuckin’ told him right? You unloyal rat,” the knuckles impacted on the pale cheekbone of the young guy as Levi observed uninterest.

The blue eyes of the guy opened up half-lidded and saw Levi uninterested “Please,” he begged. Levi had run away the last two occasions without much circumspection, never showing the slightly little bit of interest either on the people knocked on the floor by his strength or by Farlan’s insistence. However, right there when he was probably going to be beaten to death, Levi stood observant.

“Please,” he insisted once again, making the older guy that was inflicting the pain turn around. The other two that were keeping the moribund guy standing up to take more hits, also looked up.

“Look at that, he came for his whore.”

The brass of their knuckles shone as they put them on. Levi remained unfazed but mentally raised an eyebrow.

“You fucking midget, I’ll paint the walls with your brain,”

As the three taller men abandoned Farlan, he hit his face with the muddy floor. Levi observed the walls after they had mentioned, frowning intensely as he murmured “Dirty,”

When Farlan was able to bring himself back to consciousness, he found a crouching Levi searching inside the clothes of the unconscious bodies. Trying to bring the young man attention to him, he groaned unknown words. Putting both hands on the floor to reincorporate himself but soon harsh pressure on his head pushed him downwards again.

“Ugh!”

“Oi, you are the same asshole from that time, aren’t you?” Levi’s voice demanded as he pressed the face of the other conscious man against the muddy floor “why the fuck they called you my whore? I did you a question is only polite to answer,”

“Mphh-”

“What?”

“MPhhh-!”

“Oi, answer before I kill you too,”

Farlan did his best to push his head to the side before spitting “Hard to answer when my face is pushed in the mud!”

The pressure withdrew and Farlan could finally catch his breath “I’d tried to convince them that fighting you wasn’t a good idea, that we should add you to the team. They didn’t listen to me-”

The beaten man had all this plan on how to lure the shorter man but before he could be back on his feet, Levi was slowly walking out of the place.

“Oi! Wait!” Farlan shouted but the thug didn’t mind him. He cursed under his breath, trying to quickly reincorporate as he grabbed his hurted chest and chased the other guy down the place.

“I want to join the group you’re in!” Once he was finally at the same pace of the short man, Farlan tried to catch up despite being heavily wounded. Levi askance looked to his right where the other man was at and quickened his pace. At the state Farlan was in, he was no threat.

“I’m Farlan,”

No reply.

“You’re… very mighty for a small guy,” he added with an awkward smile, that made the addressed man stop abruptly.

“Here,” Levi slightly turned to his right, doing a “come here” motion with his fingers. When the other man curiously got closer, a quick and strong punch hit him right in the middle of his stomach. Farlan fell on his knees feeling how the air left his lungs.

“Get lost,”

On the ground, once again. His nose was bleeding, he felt the metallic taste of blood inside his mouth, swollen eyes hard to open and his entire body just felt broken. When he raised again, he raised slowly. Dragging his frame around the place, resting momentarily on the humid walls of the underground and then carrying on to, maybe, the only place he could find some rest or find his death. ‘It’s over,’ He thought, his gang, even if there were a few alive, would not trust him and there was no place to go on his own. ‘Maybe I bite more than I could chew’ Farlan cursed his ambition.

Finally at the doors of the only place with a source of light. The only somehow decent-looking building around. The bar had the door opened and a familiar female face was at the entry. Hands on her hips accentuated by her grey corset.

“I told you! I’m not selling you!” The young woman with a whitish blouse and brownish long skirt shouted, the edges of her skirt were dirty with mud and she had an apron on. Broom on hand as she frowned deeply to the guy at the bottom of the stairs.

“I will fucking pay you doubles!”

Farlan’s bruised eyes looked at the other person involved in the conversation in disbelief. Levi was there, white shirt, black trousers and tall boots.

“I do not care! Selling to you means those fuckers burning my place to the ground. Get lost before I hit you with the broom,” The owner, a young looking woman, insisted.

Farlan quickly concluded that, despite all, Levi must not be a complete jerk because he could have beaten the woman up and took whatever he pleased but he didn't. All the opposite, the dark haired man clicked his tongue and turned around, defeated.

“What hell happened to you?!” This time, she addressed Farlan who was admiring the scene as a mere observant until that moment.

Farlan, pondering that his chances may not be completely wasted, rushed to the girl's side and begged “Please, please take him in!”

“No way, get lost you too. Last time that I show you some sympathy” She was quick to turn around to go back inside.

“Please, Emma! Trust me on this!” He insisted.

“Trust you? The last thing I need is end up looking like you,”

Farlan kept insisting and insisting, quickly owning a hit with the broom the girl had in her hand. He contorted in pain and went back on begging as soon as he could.

“Please, Emma! Believe me! That guy could solve your problems, just give me a chance with him!”

Farlan had always had a way around people and the young woman rolled her eyes exhausted. She placed two fingers on her mouth and loudly whistled in the direction the other guy had gone. Levi quickly turned, she moved her head and pointed to the door.

The place inside wasn’t crowded, but the source of light and slightly toasted place felt like heaven for the wounded body of Farlan that practically slacked against the attached seat that Levi took on the bar. The dark haired man dedicated a good death glance to his new companion.

Emma cleared her throat from the other side of the bar, an unfriendly expression as she extended her hand to the shorter one of the two. Levi understood the situation quickly, he needed to pay first. He grabbed all the money he had from his trouser pocket and handed it to the girl.

“A warm souper and a beer,” Levi said, knowing that he had to at least pay for that.

“And you said you’ll pay doubles?” She insisted, making him frown and click his tongue.

“That’s enough,”

“Yeah, for you maybe, but you’re paying for him too,” She gave a quick glance to Farlan.

“Why the hell will I pay for him?” Levi shouted back.

“Because he is the one who let you in,” the girl announced and then moved to the back to prepare the meals.

Farlan had his head rested on the surface of the bar table and smiled softly to the deadly expression of the other guy. “Thank you for saving me back then,” it wasn’t a whole lie or a whole truth but enough to create a cheerful conversation.

“I didn’t do it for you, fucker,” Levi spit eachword with such despite.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were from the north district,” Farlan rejoined his seat as he saw Emma bringing the plates. Both rations of what could be a sort of stew was placed in front of both of them with haste and roughness. She wasn’t happy and she let it be known. One pint of ale for each was added and she sighed loudly.

Farlan was surprised how quickly Levi grabbed the glass and took big quick gulps, drinking half of it almost immediately and then went straight to eat. Farlan tried to begin another conversation but Levi was too busy eating to even give him unfriendly glances. He also took a sip from his glass and grimaced when he realised it was mixed with water, making the taste washed and unpleasant. He wouldn’t complain though, it was obvious that none of the two could afford more.

“You better do what you told me, before the gang from the north kill me for listen to your nonsense,” Emma passed by as she was hastily working and insisted “Jimmy’s gang is behind his head and they made it clear; anyone who sells him anything would be fucking dead before the MPs can even show up,”

‘Ah… that explains the hunger,’ Farlan concluded, the guy had probably been kicked from one place to another. Jimmy was Levi’s former leader and it was, mainly, the information of him dropping the gang that lured Farlan to get the shorter man. Jimmy’s gang wasn’t only one of the most harsh districts in the underground, the north and the east, but also one of the biggest. Levi dropped them by beating up most of its important members in the process. Those were news that travelled fast. Anyone who was either suicide enough or strong enough to do that was worth a deal.

However, from what Farlan was quick to conclude earlier. Maybe Levi was both, stupid enough to be on his own and strong enough to drop Jimmy’s gang, but also not a full asshole if he was respecting Emma not to sell him (probably aware of the consequences).

“What does she want?” Levi finally talked as he cleaned the corner of his mouth. The dish was almost empty and he finished his drink, he seemed slightly disappointed when he realised that the bit left on his glass wasn’t enough to erase the thirst.

“Emma’s father died recently, the zone isn’t secure and a lot of tiny gangs are fighting to become the main one in the zone. She needs someone who beats people who come to steal,” Farlan was quick to explain, took a soft sip and countorned in pain as it burned his broken lip. Hissing before chuckling sadly “We wanted to drag you into our team to claim the west zone… now, well. I’m doomed,”

“The west is bullshit, assholes here don’t have money to even buy paste with cocaine,” Levi replied quickly as his hand dragged the piece of bread around the plate to gather was was left of his meal.

“That’s because Jimmy’s and the gangs from the south use the east entry to bring the merchandise, if we could use the one that’s here on the west-”

“Are you a moron? You’ll have to fight both of them off your ass before you would even start,”

“Well, that was the plan. Before you showed up and beat all the team up.” Farlan murmured quickly realising that his dreams had vanished in thin air “You left Jimmy’s, you may have a pla-”

“Save it, I left because that asshole did a deal with the MPs to have the exclusivity for trafficking in women and I don’t vibe with that shit. No intentions in forming a gang or whatsoever,”

Dead silence, Levi had the expression lost on the back of the bar, heavy dark circles decorating his pale features. He hadn’t slept in days since he had been on the run and with no place to stay, probably travelling from one district to another trying to stay alive. Farlan wasn’t in any better state, feeling the bruises burning his body.

“Think it-”

“I don’t need a team, I work alone,” Levi’s silver eyes locked with Farlan’s as he spat with hate. ‘Harsh words from a guy who risked his head just for the morals of not collabing with illegal prostitution,’

“Fine… but the west is no man's land and Emma really needs a hand. If you manage to control the zone a bit with those friendly eyes of yours, maybe you could land a place to stay,”

Levi didn’t reply right away, sighed loudly as he probably pondered around the idea. A short blond girl passed by, hasted as she went to serve another table. Farlan was quick to turn in her direction and smiled a bit.

“Rosie!” He called, the blond turned around and then ignored him completely.

“She’s head over heels for me,” Farlan commented as turned his position, leaving the bar behind and facing the room, paying attention to the girl.

Levi hummed a sarcastic reply as he didn’t even need to look into the girls direction to notice the guy was lying. Farlan, despite his state, appeared extremely happy. Somehow he had concluded that Levi was going to stay and that was his first step.

“You’re not very sociable, aren’t you? What’s your name, by the way?”

“Levi” he replied, uninterested, tired eyes enjoying the warmth of the place.

“I know a lot of people around here, you do your thing and I-”

“We are not a team.” Levi quickly insisted once again. But the greyish-haired dude didn’t listen to him, kept rambling about a house he knew that was somehow abandoned that they could usurp until they gathered more money. Endless plans that kept going and going.

Levi’s stoic eyes took a quick peek over his shoulder as the place grew noisy with the amount of people there and, in particular, a loud smack. One he knew well, a woman slapping a man because he was getting too handy or either too insistent. It was the blond waitress, loudly telling the tall bald man to let her go.

Emma appeared from the back, her dark brown hair whitish at some parts as she seemed to be baking.

“Oi, no touching my waitresses,” She quickly jumped into the scene but little could she do. The rest minded their own business, uninterested in something that happened more often than not.

“Aren’t you going to help her?” Farlan whispered to Levi that was, also, trying to mind his own business.

“I still haven't got rid of the last shit I saved,” Levi murmured while doing a quick heavy eye contact with his new self-declared business partner. However, despite his monotone expression, Levi slowly got off the high bar bench and with hands on his black trousers walked to the scene.

“The chick already told you to get lost, asshole,”

Quick, effective and clean (mostly clean) were Levi’s beat to the guy who was easily twice his size. He didn’t hurt the bar table, he didn’t create a mess for Emma to clean and the dude was already unconscious to be meek to handle out. Both women silently admired him as Farlan did a friendly pat on Levi’s back (who gave him a death glance). However, Farlan was fastly getting used to them.

“See, Emma! Told you he would be useful!”

Levi didn’t stay, he grabbed a cloth from the table and started to clean his hand that had a mix of blood and spit from the guy and walked away.

“Who is he?” The blond with dreamy eyes looked into the short guy’s direction and the soft blush in her expression and parted lips made Farlan curse inside his head as he smiled defeated.

“He’s Levi, he will be around now. Right Emma?”

The brunette rolled her eyes “whatever,”

‘A win is a win,’

“Oi! You idiot, are you showing me that place or not?” Levi shouted as he peek from the door’s corner.

Him finally agreeing to acknowledge any that Farlan had offered made the last one stand in shock for a couple of seconds. Finally back to his senses, he quickly rushed out to follow the short guy.

“Look at you, you’re popular with girls… not surprised with that strength… how old are you, by the way?”

Their conversation echoed in the empty dead hallways of the underground as they walked away. One of the two guys is obviously more talkative than the other.

“18,”

“Holy shit! You’re a baby!”

“Oh yeah? How fucking old are you, witness of the creation of the walls? Also, you call me that once again and you’ll get another royal salute from me,”

“20,”

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ai-luni · 2 years ago

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No word of a lie, I'm smiling so hard right now (and thinking of reasons to tell my husband that isn't "im Hesh Whore #2, yes. The character from the game we first played together. Yes thats what my sign off is) because that screenshot made me so warm and fuzzy inside.

And bizzare headcanons because bringing joy to others makes me happy (and I want to help bring more content to our loveable dude).

So, could you imagine Hesh dating someone who's scared of dogs (well after they've started dating and things have gotten pretty serious). Because he's a package duo with Logan and Riley (his brother and his furry son).

Like, over the months of dating this doof you somehow never met/realized that Riley belongs to him (the dog food bowls, kennel that's rarely used, dog beds, toys, dog food and treats weren't a dead giveaway that your man owns a dog). You knew of the German Shepard, and from a distance thought he was rad. Just a neat little dude that your boyfriends brother owned (because in this world Logan let's Riley sleep over quite often).

But you've also seen/heard of what military K9s can do. You've heard the Ghosts brag about Riley's achievements (they're all proud of their goodest boy). So to say you're scared of the day when you have to meet this dog is an understatement. Due to an unfortunate run in as a child (or something) that left you as a cat person.

You're not expecting to visit and be greeted by a dog. Hesh isn't expecting for you to scream and back right up from his dog just about in tears when you come visit.

As much as he loves Riley, he feels his heart sink right to his toes thinking you got hurt. Considering the fact that Riley is a military trained dog, and hasn't met you yet. Hesh does end up feeling bad after because when he realized you were fine and just spooked by the dog he did chuckle a bit and pet the good boy while telling you his name (he found it endearing - not realizing quite how scared you actually were).

Of course when he realized you weren't playing and you were shaking in your boots with tears in your eyes he brought Riley into the backyard and hugged you tighter than ever whispering about how sorry he was into your hair. Holding you until you stopped shaking and were ready to talk.

To say he feels like a bag of dicks when he realizes he never warned you (or really talked pets) with you before this is an understatement. This man is shattered. But also thinking of ideas to suggest to help you co-habit the space with its other owner (Riley). Offering to have Logan pick the dog up tonight if you're uncomfortable with him around right now (but that the dog is a huge part of his life just like you and he isn't willing to give up the animal that's been in his life since he was 17).

When you decide you're ready to meet his best friend, he goes to the ends of the world to make sure you're comfortable. Telling you that at any point you can back out and he won't be mad (but is super proud and happy you're trying for him). The first time he doesn't even make you interact. He's cuddling with you on the couch watching a movie while Riley and Logan sit across the room. See, he's not going to pounce. He's not like that, and we wouldn't let him anyway

The next time you put out a shaky hand for Riley to sniff (while squeezing Hesh's hand so hard he could've swore you almost broke something - even though Logan had a handle on Rileys vest the entire time).

A bigger, surprising was when you walked up to the dog without either of the Walker brothers holding him, or having him on leash and patted the top of his head on your own accord. Nobody can agree who was more excited that day. You, Hesh, Logan or Riley (spoiler: Riley was the most excited because you're realizing he's a good boy :D)

After that you slowly started warming up to the idea of this dog. Joining on his walks (sometimes asking to hold the leash and being surprised at how gentle he is when you're walking him), petting him if you're in arms length, giving small commands when Hesh or Logan is around (Riley gets very excited with "give paw" because its like he's making important buisness deals), or giving him treats from your hands.

The most memorable step (that made Hesh tear up and the picture remains as his lock screen), was the night he got called to base after supper for a couple hours. Riley was home, you were visiting and he wasn't able to bring the dog along. So he put Riley in the kennel (with a promise that he'd let him out as soon as he was home - because you were still unsure about the dog out in the house without either brother around).

The fear that struck in Hesh's chest when he got back and noticed the kennel was empty almost caused him to drop to the floor. His goodest boy wouldn't break out, you were still spooked of the dog, what happened???

But that fear was quickly replaced by love and warmth when he got to the bedroom and saw the two of you cuddling asleep. He must have made an audible "awww" after taking a quick picture because you woke up, one arm still around Riley.

"He looked sad and lonely, the bed was cold and we both missed you" you tiredly explained, guesturing for Hesh to come join the cuddle puddle.

It was safe to say that after that night Riley was an exception to the "im not a dog person" rule. (And he was totally the flower dog at the wedding)

Hesh Whore #2 (who loves dogs, and cats and guinea pigs. And has 2 of each listed animal)

AWWWW STOP IT, WHY AM I ACTUALLY TEARING UP

First of all, I think you’re missing the big picture. Your husband can become Hesh whore #4 and then all will be well.

Second of all, I’m a massive dog person (allergic to cats unfortunately) and this may have reduced me to tears. Every little scene genuinely makes me wanna crawl out of a hole and draw again. Like if there are any cod artists out there that need comic ideas, I mean come on!

Third of all, you should so be writing fics! I think we all agree.

And lastly, falling asleep with Riley will always be my little daydream. I don’t know how your knew -.- suspicious.

#luniinbox #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty #cod #david hesh walker #hesh walker x reader #cod riley

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banisheed · 1 year ago

Text

TIMING: Before Jasper lost his face LOCATION: Shimmering Sky Bar PARTIES: Siobhan (@banisheed) & Jasper (@eatdearth) CONTENT: (alcoholism tw) some implications to alcoholism, alcohol consumption is heavily involved SUMMARY: Siobhan invites her best friend* Jasper out for some drinks, which he's never had before. They talk. And then Jasper really talks. *she thought it would be funny to say he was her best friend. The verdict is still out on if it was funny

Siobhan could count the things she knew about Jasper on one hand: he seemed boring, he had great hair and he had, for some reason, accepted her admission that they were best friends. She’d said it to annoy him and yet, he didn’t seem very annoyed at all by the sudden statement. Siobhan didn’t know what that meant. Was he lonely? Did he want to make friends that badly? Or did he truly not care? There was also the possibility that Jasper was playing her for a fool; that while she intended to annoy him, he had planned to annoy her back by not being annoyed. Jasper didn’t strike her as the type to be masterminding an entire scheme from the shadows, but what did she know? She thought it was impossible that anyone could have gone through life without sampling a cocktail, but some people also considered her as someone who drank too much. Maybe her opinion didn’t matter but what did those people know?

The Shimmering Sky Bar was thankfully devoid of any usual bustle, so no one was privy to Siobhan grumbling into her cosmopolitan about imaginary arguments. Of course, except for the bartender who shot her several concerned looks down the bar. She’d asked Jasper to meet her here as she assumed there would be no better place for fancy cocktails but she’d also shown up early just to get a few extra drinks in. When Jasper did show up, she was already a little flushed and very friendly. “Jaspie!” She called out to him like he actually was her best friend. She ran up and gave him a hug like he was one too. “This way.” She gestured to the bar. “I got us the best views of the, uh…” She then gestured out the windows, at the lush greenery around them and the distant landmarks of the range. “You live somewhere around here, don’t you?” She took a seat at the bar, patting the stool beside her. “How are you feeling?”

—

Jasper had always thought Doctor Dolan was attractive. But that was about it. Any other thoughts he might have had regarding that matter, he chose to not entertain further. Because professionalism. But the fact was, Jasper was a pretty lonely guy, which meant it was almost second nature for him to think everyone else was attractive, especially if they were new, especially if they hadn’t yet had the displeasure of hearing about the rumors that were plaguing his occasionally forgotten reputation: Dude was awkward “af” that he was basically socially inept and he lived in the mountains alone. He wasn’t exactly someone anyone else would invite to a “rager” or whatever. So when Doctor Dolan invited him out for drinks, calling him her best friend, he was beyond ecstatic. A night out with a gorgeous woman? Best day of his life.

“Doctor— I mean, Shiv!” Jasper feigned, awkwardly at that, an air of being nonchalant. He wanted to seem like he had just arrived, that he was thinking of not even showing up in the first place, even though he had been there a few minutes earlier than the arranged time, pacing in a dark alley while trying to hype himself up for this “date.” It wasn’t, of course, but Jasper was too lonely and socially repressed to know the difference. Case in point: He reacted to the hug a little too late, tried to hug her back but she was already leading her to the bar, so he just pretended nothing ever happened. “You look good,” he fumbled as soon as his lips parted, the words seemingly pushing against each other as they tried to escape his mouth. “I mean, the view looks good… You also look good! You and the view both look good? Professionally speaking, of course.”

“Hmm? Oh, I, uhm, I’m feeling…rather…well,” Jasper feigned a cough as he sat on the offered stool, leaning on his arms on the countertop, a huge goofy grin on his face as he looked around for no real reason than the fact that he hadn’t been there, and if he even had, it was definitely not with a lovely lady. “How about you, Doctor—Shiv?”

—

“I always look good,” Siobhan said quickly: an automatic response to being complimented. Of course, she did also preen a little--touched by Jasper’s display of common sense. Yes, yes she was attractive and she was very keen on everyone knowing it. “You look…” Jasper wasn’t unattractive--to say so would be an obvious lie--but she also thought he carried himself like he was worried his mother would scold him for being out too late. “You look hot,” she settled on, patting his shoulder in hopes that she could pass on even a shred of her abundant confidence to him. She smirked. “Professionally speaking, of course.”

Siobhan wondered for a moment, watching Jasper smile, if he was actually several children wearing the suit of a man. It would explain things. What things, exactly, she didn’t know but it certainly felt like things would be explained if Jasper was somehow not who he said he was. Was this another attempt at demoralizing her? Of ruining her game? Not only was he not annoyed that she was overly familiar, he seemed to be thrilled about it. “Well, I’m so happy to be out with my best friend.” She tested the waters, waiting for a flicker of annoyance or disapproval to cross his face. “Bestest bestest friend.” She grinned widely, too widely, and immediately she decided she needed drinks.

She waved the bartender down, “Shirley Temple right? You mentioned it, why not try it?” Siobhan ordered two Dirty Shirleys and prayed they would come with lightning pace. “You know, I was just thinking, you’re my bestest friend and I hardly know a thing about you. Other than the fact you lick rocks, of course.” Again, she waited.

—

‘Oh, no, are we gonna fuck?’ was the first thing that came to Jasper’s mind when Siobhan called him ‘hot,’ though he immediately tried to chase that unprofessional thought away with a mental head shake. It was a combination of a lot of things that gave birth to that stupid thought: (1) the fact that no one has ever called him ‘hot,’ not even the girls that he was dating individually; (2) it has been a while since he’s had intercourse or even been intimate with anyone; and (3) he forgot for a moment that the word ‘hot’ could also refer to a high degree of heat or temperature. Like a fever, which this whole exchange was beginning to seem to him. A fever dream, more precisely.

The concern from that now-dissipated thought did not come from not wanting the possibility, too, as even a dunce would realize that Jasper would do it with a pole if it was wearing a skirt…or however that hilarious but hurtful remark from Professor Nancy Go went. No, it was more the fact that he and Siobhan were coworkers, and Jasper thought that being intimate with a coworker never ends well. Case in point: Him and Nancy, who has now taken to his home as her second home despite the fact that they were no longer being intimate. If only he could just tell her off. Then again, he couldn’t even tell his late uncle’s dog off for being such a snooty snoot to him.

“Yes,” Jasper heaved a sigh of relief when Siobhan established the parameters of their ‘relationship,’ though a small part of him was a bit disappointed. “Best friend,” he reiterated the term to drill the same into his often uncooperative brain. Well, the social part of it. Some days Jasper was a hair away from being one of those villainous turds in She-Hulk, a show which he actually loves, by the way. Fortunately for him, today was not one of those days.

“Bestest best friend!” Another mental sigh of relief before Jasper nodded at the drink choice, sheepishly grinning like an apologetic child whose hand was just caught in the cookie jar by his mother, before shaking his head in protest at that last bit. “Well, actually, I don’t lick rocks. My tongue’s reserved for licking something else. Like stamps. Or ice cream. Popsicles? Anyway, what would you like to know? Most of the things about me are on my personnel file or the university faculty website, anyway.” Weird way to say he was boring and uninteresting but it wasn’t the worst way he could have gone about it.

—

“Or licking pu--” Siobhan stopped herself, looking at Jasper. She wasn’t sure how well the joke would land and, anyway, she wasn’t entirely convinced that Jasper wasn’t actually a child. Somehow. “I don’t read things on the internet.” Siobhan waved her hands around. “There’s too many words and not all of them are true.” Mostly, it was that the large majority of words on the internet were written by humans and if Siobhan wanted to puncture her brain with the continued stupidity of humanity, she’d assign essays to her class. She avoided them for a reason. “You’re here now, aren’t you?” She nudged Jasper, smiling brilliantly. “Why don’t I hear it from your cute mouth?” She pinched his cheek. No, that was his real skin. She supposed he was just one of those weird humans; the sort that grew up all wrong.

The drinks arrived too slow for Siobhan’s liking, but their presence was welcome. “In actuality, a Shirely Temple isn’t an alcoholic drink,” she said with a laugh, as though she’d ever willingly order something without alcohol. “Not this one though. Cheers, love.” She didn’t wait to clink her glass against his, taking the first full and quick sip. Ginger Ale and Grenadine was a sweet mix, the presence of vodka was hardly noticeable under all the sugar. The cherry was a welcome addition. She hummed, her cold skin slowly warming. Quickly, she ordered two Bloody Mary’s: the other drink Jasper had mentioned. “What do you think, Jaspie?” She took another long sip. The more she drank, the less she would question why she was doing this.

Against her best efforts, it really did seem like Jasper wanted to be here and would have fun. None of that was Siobhan’s intention.

—

If Jasper had a drink sloshing in his mouth hole, he would have spat it all out when he realized what Siobhan was about to say before she cut herself off. It took him a second, sure, but he realized it as soon as he could. Eyes wide in horror, he couldn’t help but stare at Siobhan because of that, his cheeks flushing red, before turning away and feigning a cough to save himself from more unprofessional thoughts. “That’s fair,” Jasper swallowed air.

Even before Siobhan pinched his cheek, he was already feeling uncomfortable…but in a good way, if that was even a thing, which it probably isn’t, which just means that Jasper did indeed grow up wrong. Hard to grow up right when he was raised by the same uncle that slaughtered the rest of his family without Jasper’s knowing because said uncle feared their magic bloodline was the cause for all the weird shit in town, which of course wasn’t. But, hey! She called his mouth cute. That’s something, right? “I mean, I don’t lick rocks, so that’s one thing. I have a dog? Val, short for Valentine, but technically, she was my late uncle’s, so I guess I just inherited her…among other things. You do already know I live by myself, with my dog, in the mountains, I think?”

“Oh, it isn’t?” Jasper was genuinely flummoxed, a word he was reacquainted with just the past week and has not taken a liking to, which means he will most likely use that same word a lot in his next few classes. “I’ve always thought it was.” Jasper watched her take her drink, his eyes subconsciously fixated on his lips as he swallowed air, feeling his own throat dry up, constrict on its own volition. “I think that’s hot,” he blurted out before catching himself, immediately taking a sip of his own drink to conceal his stupidity to little avail. “I mean, uhm, it’s delicious… You’re delicious… This drink is delicious!” And it was, which surprised him. It wasn’t like he didn’t think he’d like the drink. It was more like he didn’t think it would be that good. “Oh, this really is delicious! Shirley, you’ve surely created magic here! I think I’m in love!”

—

Siobhan tried to listen to Jasper, but he was doing that thing humans often did where they were unbearably boring and her alcohol was doing the thing where it wasn’t working fast enough. She stared down at her drink, noticing it was empty. When had that happened? Siobhan looked back up at Jasper, smiling tightly. “Surely you must have some hobbies,” she said. “There has to be more to my bestest friend ever than his dog and his house and the fact that he’s lonely—sorry, lives alone. Slip of the tongue.” She stuck her out, laughing as though she really cared about the error. She sloshed the ice around her glass. This was why she stabbed people, stabbing people always made them interesting. Unfortunately, she didn’t think it was wise to attack a colleague in a public space.

The Bloody Marys came down quick and Siobhan took hers before Jasper had even sipped his Dirty Shirley. “Hot? No, these are cold drinks. Do you want something hot, Jaspie?” She could probably order one, even if nothing came to mind right away. The more drinks she got the better, she needed Jasper to become interesting as soon as possible. The knife she kept strapped to her thigh burned against her flesh, begging for use. All she needed to do was reach through the slit of her dress and… “In love so soon? You should get higher standards.” She chuckled, the desire to stab him subsiding temporarily as she found the outburst adorable, in that way a dog chasing someone around for a treat was. Her preoccupation with violence had left her unaware of Jasper's slip-ups and staring. “This one is vodka and tomato juice and a variety of other things I can’t be arsed to remember. Cheers!” Again, she didn’t wait for him before taking a sip. “It’s more of a savoury one,” Siobhan explained. “I’m not sure if you’ll be so in love with this one.”

—

“I have a massive pe—” Jasper cut himself off, realizing his little joke might land him in hot water if he continued. Siobhan seemed like she could take the joke. Pun intended. If that was even a pun. But would Jasper risk his only source of joy, his only semblance of life, his only…hobby, for a few seconds of a chuckle? He’d rather not. “—atience. I am very patient. Not a hobby, but that’s something more to me, I think.” Weird, flimsy train of thought, but that was all he had before he took another sip of his drink. “Don’t be,” he shrugged off what most people would consider an insult. Or at least take offense to. It wasn’t wrong, anyway. He was lonely, and it wasn’t just because he lived alone. He was very lonely. “You have a pretty tongue, I mean you weren’t wrong.”

Another feigned cough to hide his slow descent into drunkenness. It was just one drink, barely even down to two-thirds, but Jasper was already feeling the alcohol. “It already feels hot,” he omitted the realization that the sensation was all within him. If it was even real. Could just be him. His mind playing tricks on him. The placebo effect. Because he thought the drink could make him drunk, he started feeling drunk. That sort of thing. “A lonely man can’t afford standards, Shibby,” he heaved a sigh, shaking his head, forcing his eyes into each socket before opening them as wide as he could, all while his head was down toward the table. “You had me at vodka!” He chuckled and downed as much as he could of the new drink, barely surviving the result. “You do this often? Drink these things?”

—

Siobhan thought she heard a joke, carried through the mumble of the bar around them. She stared at Jasper, wondering if he had the strength to finish it. No. Pity. Jasper as he stood now, or sat in actuality, was quickly gaining in mundanity. It wasn’t his fault he was boring, Siobhan thought the vast majority of humans were. He wasn’t saying anything riveting. She wanted the ‘hot goss’ as the humans said; the details so juicy Jasper hardly admitted them to himself. She couldn’t expect him to just talk, he needed to be lubed up—metaphorically. “I do have a pretty tongue,” she smiled at him. “Would you like to see something else that’s pretty?” Siobhan tugged on her gloves, setting them aside. With a shrug, her leather jacket fell away, hanging on the back of the stool. She maintained her glamour well, despite the alcohol; it was imperative that Jasper not see her scars and, as she was finding his lack of scandalous information boring, the concentration gave her something to do. Her dress, low-cut, was sleeveless and she pointed to her now bare arms. “Here are the ulna and the radius.” Siobhan traced each bone, showing Jasper where they sat under her skin. “And here’s the radial artery, where you can take my pulse.” She paused. “Do you want to?” As a banshee, there wasn’t much of a pulse to take, but she hoped his drunken stumbling around her arm to figure out why he wasn’t feeling a regular pulse would disarm him enough to be interesting.

Siobhan smiled, watching a tipsy flush reach Jasper’s face. She was feeling more inclined to be friendly, a little bold, but the more she drank, the more she thought she started to feel like herself. Sharp white canine teeth glistened when she smiled. “I do. You could call it an Irish tradition, but don’t say that to anyone that’s Irish. Except me, of course. You can tell me anything.” Siobhan’s grin expanded, pulling up into her cheeks. “Don’t you want to tell your best friend some very personal information? Something that will bring us closer? Don’t you want that, Jaspie?” And please, for the love of Death, she prayed it wouldn’t be another remark about his dog or his virtue of patience.

—

“Yes, and yes,” Jasper responded with zero hesitation and a passionate nodding of his head. He still took his time, however, despite his one-sided battle with alcohol. In his head, he was getting way too drunk, though he didn’t care: He was with a lovely woman. What better reason to be drunk? In reality, however, barely a single drink should make him drunk. If not for his subconscious willingness to hasten the process for the possibility of more intimate rewards, he would be more sober than a priest in the middle of his own mass in the Vatican with all the other priests watching him keenly. Siobhan’s offer was why Jasper was glad he wasn’t actually a priest.

As soon as he could, he immediately went to work, though he hesitated actually touching her. It could be a trap, meant to seduce him, and when his guard was lowered, while he was caught in such a scandalous position, she could scream and call him names and get him fired from his job, ruining his life forever. But a stolen glimpse at Siobhan’s alluring eyes made Jasper think she would do no such thing, so he smiled, ever the fool, happy to be one, glad to be tied around her pinky finger, and savored every contact he could make with her skin, her bone, her…pulse. Man, am I so drunk, I can’t even feel a pulse? “That’s weird,” he hiccuped. “I can’t find your pulse.” Maybe it’s in her left breast—icle, clavicle. Fuck! Even ‘drunk’, he wasn’t that rude. Or evil.

“You’re Irish?” Jasper absentmindedly blurted as he continued trying to find her pulse, as if he just needed more time to find it. Typical guy thing—if you know, you know. What Jasper should have known was the answer to his question. Her name was a dead giveaway. It was the only Irish name he knew how to spell. He made a note of that in his head after meeting a lovely Irish girl in the UK while at a seminar, the geology professor too scared to make the jump despite the many pushes she had given him, some even outright, including an invitation to her room on the final night they would ever see each other again. “What do you mean?” He asked, a lingering concern in his voice, as if he was about to get attacked by a hidden monster. Or reminded of a haunting regret in his love life. “Like my bank details? You’d be disappointed, but also you’d have to buy me dinner first. Jasper H. Langston is not an easy lay!” Nor is he a good one, his sober brain added, much to his faux drunkenness’ dismay.

—

“I have an accen—You know what, it’s probably just hard to tell where I’m from.” Siobhan forced herself to smile, watching Jasper fumble around her arm. She maintained concentration, picturing how her skin once was and how her wings once fluttered. Her hand snapped over Jasper’s, anchoring him to her cold skin. She grinned sharply, with all the excitement of a cat capturing a mouse. “Not your bank details…” Although the offer was tempting; how many cups of yogurt could she buy under his name? It wasn’t entirely necessary, as much fun as it would be, Siobhan had more than enough money between her salary, credit cards, and the men whose bank details she did steal. Siobhan leaned into him. “Something secretive, Jaspie. Something you’ve never told anyone.” There were probably more tactful ways to go about stealing secrets, but Siobhan didn’t particularly care. She thought Jasper was drunk anyway, never mind the reality that she’d had much, much more than him and was certainly feeling it. “Something you’re afraid to say; don’t worry; would I ever tell anyone?” She would probably tell someone. “It can be our secret.” It wouldn’t be. “Who would I tell, anyway?” This part was true, and did reveal that even though Siobhan had no respect for the secrets of humans, she didn’t have any friends (except Metzli) and thus, had no one to share the hot goss of Jasper’s life with.

Siobhan reached for her drink, downing the last of her Bloody Mary. “I just think…we’re such good friends aren’t we? I let you find my pulse—that’s my heart—and what are you giving me? You told me about your dog! I don’t want to know about your dog.” Siobhan leaned in again, displaying every drop of alcohol on her breath—which was otherwise minty fresh (she enjoyed a good mint). “Come on, Jaspie.”

—

“I mean, yeah, I just thought you were from Boston or something,” Jasper shrugged, before he was caught by surprise when Siobhan unexpectedly grabbed his hand. His eyes, wide in shock, warily searched for hers, and when they met, the geology professor could only gulp. She had pretty eyes, that was the first thing that came to his mind, before her words slowly made their mark in his brain.

“I…have never slept with someone who wasn’t in a relationship with me,” the words started to spill from his mouth, like an unsuspecting leak on a pipe in someone’s basement. She wanted secrets, right? Something he’d never told anyone. Well, Jasper had a lot of them, and all of them he’d never told anyone. Or at least that’s what he believed in his supposedly drunken state. Truth was, Jasper’s lips loosen every time he was out of his mind, even when he only believed so.

“I’ve been trying to learn magic but I suck at it… I lost my childhood friend in the mines and have been trying to find her still, even though she’s probably already found her way out and moved on with her life or dead and eaten by whatever’s down there, if there’s even things down there… I love pineapples on my pizza and hot sauce on my ice cream… I do think some of my students are hot, but I would never… I also think you’re hot and you’re so close to me right now and you smell so good and feel so good…” Throughout his word vomit, or is it words vomit?, Jasper found himself unable to look away from Siobhan, as if enthralled. While the jury might still be debating on whether Jasper H. Langston was in fact an easy lay, there was no doubt right now that he was definitely an easy prey.

—

For the moment, Siobhan could ignore that Jasper thought she was from Boston (she actually liked Boston, she’d had great clam chowder there and at least seven murders she was proud of). She could ignore that Jasper had never slept with anyone he wasn’t in a relationship with, which was a very boring slice of information but as soon as he said that, she could tell they were finally getting somewhere. And then he went on. Magic, mines, pineapples, hot sauce, students—that last one made Siobhan’s nose wrinkle which was quickly appeased by being told she was hot. Of course, it meant less when it came after a sentence where he admitted some students were hot, but Siobhan was always hungry for compliments.

Siobhan snapped her hand away and slipped her jacket back on. “So, you’re a…witch then, are you?” She went to take a sip of her drink, then realized there was nothing in there, then got sad. She set it back down with a disappointed clink. “A very shite witch?” Was this an interesting fact or just the only one that provided any use to her? “D’you get yourself a teacher?” She slurred a little, leaning back into her stool. She played around with the other details in her head, trying to figure out how to file them away. “Your friend went into the mines…” she repeated. “…and you don’t know if she’s dead or alive?” As a banshee, she was uniquely capable of figuring out if someone had died but the process wasn't as easy as thinking really hard about it. She’d have to travel the mines, sorting through all the visions of death that lingered there until she found one that matched his friend; the process was tedious and with a place as large as the network of underground tunnels, it wasn’t likely she’d ever find the spot. And, more importantly, it would involve wanting to help Jasper; that was the larger hurdle to jump.

“Can’t you magic a location spell?” Siobhan waved her hand around in the air. “Sprinkle sage in one of her old shoes and go ‘where is she’ and let the tea leaves show you or whatever it is you witches do these days. Back in my day, it was a lot of herbal nonsense and chalk-drawn sigils. These days maybe you witches have got an app for this.” She tapped her finger against the bar counter. “Oh, sorry.” She patted Jasper’s arm. “I’m not going to sleep with you—you’re not my type, too pathetic—but valiant effort with the compliments, Jaspie.” Now that she has squeezed what she wanted out of Jasper, she only lingered to see if he’d offer anything else up. With her hands gripping the counter, she was ready to leave as soon as he mentioned his dog again.

—

A witch? Jasper did a double take. Visually. With his head and neck and shoulders and upper body. Moving a bit away from Siobhan, as if he was disgusted at the thought of being called a witch. “I wouldn’t call myself a witch…” The immediate image in his head was that of a hag, and having forgotten in that moment in time how hot Marvel’s Wanda Maximoff was, he recoiled at the idea of himself being a hag. Maybe if he had better mentors, a magical one, he’d realize that hags are very, very sexy these days. Like Anne Hathaway in that movie he never actually saw. “Shit....e, yes, but not…”

“...no, no teacher unfortunately…” He heaved a very audible sigh before remembering he did get those ‘lessons’ from that weird guy. “I mean, not an actual teacher, but there was this guy who showed me the basics…” What was his name again? Johnny? Johnny Jones? Not Johnny Cage, that one’s a much cooler guy. And also white…r? Anyway, Jasper just had to squint at Siobhan when she mentioned his friend but then remembered, regretfully so, that he had shared that information just seconds ago after a moment of weakness. “Yes,” he swallowed air, feeling his throat suddenly deprived of moisture. “But that was a long time ago. We were kids… I’m still holding hope she’s down there somewhere, still alive… Weirder things have happened.” Like a very attractive woman taking to him as her best friend.

“I…don’t know a single location spell,” Jasper grew red in embarrassment. He’s already admitted he was a shit spellcaster but actually displaying how much of a shit spellcaster he was was, well, a bit worse. “I can only do, like, rock spells. Levitating rocks… Throwing stones without touching said stones…” What was even the point of him being a spellcaster, he realized that then and there. “Oh, I mean, I didn’t,” he started to laugh awkwardly, trying to salvage what remained of his broken heart and equally broken ego by brushing that very patheticness aside. “...I was just saying you are very, very beautiful, but I would never…sleep with a colleague.” Jasper took a sip of his drink but almost stabbed his upper lip, the rim of the glass clanging against his teeth. “I mean, I already did and that didn’t work out, so…Plus, I’m already taking care of my uncle’s dog, so no room for more, hehehe…” Looks like it’s back to his right hand tonight. And the rest of his nights.

—

“Rock spells? Like The Rolling Stones spell.” Siobhan paused, waiting for laughter. Thankfully her delusional mind came with its own laugh track. Would she have use for a rock witch? She thought about it. Maybe he could help her landscape? Maybe she could get him to throw rocks at people for her amusement? She tapped her chin, imagining the multitude of ways to indenture Jasper into her service. In the end, she decided he wasn’t very useful. What kind of witch was a rock witch anyway? As much as she made fun of them, maybe she did miss the witches that made the weird herbal potions, at least they were fun. And all of them had bathtub booze of their own, which never tasted like anything Siobhan had had before or would have ever again. And then, it happened. Siobhan looked at him, blinking, hoping it had been some cruel joke. No, it happened. He did it.

He talked about his dog.

Siobhan pushed up out of her seat, nearly knocking the stool over. She took a wad of crumbled bills out of her pocket and slapped them down, hoping it was enough to pay for them both but knowing it probably wasn’t. “I have to go,” she announced, straightening herself up. “If I hear you talk about one more horribly mundane topic again, I’m going to explode. Do you think I asked you here to talk about your dog? Does anyone want to talk about your dog?” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Jasper. Jaspie.” She pinched his cheek softly. “You’re so cute. You’re my best friend, because I said so, so we’re making it so. I think if you talked less you’d have more, as the humans say, bitches. As a woman who grew up around women, I think I should reject the term. As a drunk, I will not. Get bitches, eat money, lick rocks, whatever it is they say. But please, for the love of Death, don’t talk about your uncle’s dog.” She leaned into him, pressing a swift kiss to his forehead before she dashed away, running as fast as she could in her high heels just in case he decided to mention the dog again.

She wouldn’t be able to handle another second of Jasper.

#jasper made me laugh so hard #every line of his is golden #im still screaming about it #c: jasper #writing #s1 #shirley temple #alcoholism tw

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firespirited · 1 year ago

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Ladies, gentlemen and enbans,

Meet my beautiful new second hand cane!

I've been procrastinating about buying one for a while with various foldable or footed ones in wishlists and today... there it was. and while I can't use it much due to the shoulder pain, it's already helped me stand in place longer than possible without it.

Sis saw a Facebook post about an indoor garage sale for today, within my walking abilities *but* up the hill (we live on one side of a three side "bowl" of foothills so technically everything is pretty much up or down but this hill is like 12 degree incline in parts)

I said I'd consider this adventure if we could do a trial run. So we made the trek with the dogs. Lily remembered that she could run, a huge yellow lab gave her a massive rock she was carrying in her mouth, there were acorns everywhere and a nice lil bridge at sitting height for us to stop and rest.

So today, we set out in the rain, minus dogs, to the unknown just a house with stuff for sale : would it be stuff left from a move, a death, just decluttering, expensive fancy stuff, kids stuff?

We arrived early (turns out dogs sniffing around takes up an extra ten minutes) and watched as half a dozen cars pulled up, which is wild. People are never early round here! guess the antiquing folks like to be there as soon as the doors open.

Two middle aged ladies ushered us all into their yard and then into the teeny tiny house to three rooms divided by a staircase, none of it seemed to follow geometry. Two daughters selling their mother's various collections to make space: mugs, books, vinyls, paintings, cat sculptures, silverware and lots of fabric findings. She had been a seamstress. There were tins filled with buttons, I would have bought some but knew I had to carry it home.

One seemed a little panicked after running around setting things down in the yard so I helped with a frame and asked how she was doing with all this and we chit chatted for a while. From what I understand at least one of the daughters is living there on a higher floor, the cats don't need rehoming and one had to be forcibly removed from a comfy nest in the fabric stash just before everyone arrived. 😁 They're doing ok but the clutter was overwhelming and they hoped some of it might sell and be taken away, simply, without third parties or listings. Quite a few of the furniture pieces got claims within the 45 minutes we were there so I think they'll be fine.

I saw the cane in a set of three at the entry to the yard within 20 seconds and I knew it was the one, it carried me through the rest of the visit in any case. Didn't ask about other medical equipment (Medical buyback doesn't give you much and buying from the medical shops is expensive so it's advantageous to all parties. I got my wheelchair for double the buyback from a dude who didn't need it anymore and it was less than a third of the price). But I get the impression she was fairly able bodied with maybe a little help walking only.

There was no sewing machine in sight so either it's gone to the daughters or it was sold for a lot more than today's low priced bits and bobs. I was kinda hoping I might get to witness an antique Singer in the footpedal desk or the square looking 70s Singer in the case when I heard the word seamstress - granny used to have both when I was little.

Clothes, shoes and grooming items were all missing too. The ladies might not be at the point where they feel ready for that yet. Maybe they needed the clutter 'space' to be able to do a more personal sort out.

So quite the adventure. I didn't get the "shop overload" because the lights and sound were normal, items were in boxes with the price per item or to ask (understood to be under 10€) no confusing pricing between washing liquids per wash, per litre, per kilo and special offer (aka what's the catch). It was cramped but no people megastress either so that was manageable.

I did start thinking about what we leave behind on the way home. Did chat a little with sis about our most prized treasures and how they're imbued with value that no one else would know about by just looking at them. We both felt a little gloomy over that so switched to talking about the types of person we'd seen.

#saf #disability blogging #mobility aid #cane user #Ramblings

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odinsblog · 1 year ago

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you know odin, in some other universe, we meet in middle school or high school or at some job afterwards and we would have been friends. that likely won't become reality here and that's okay.

you know, re-reading that, considering how out-of-the-blue this message will come for you, that almost sounds like a vague suicide note, but no, nothing like that.

For whatever reason you popped into mind tonight; you're just a random tumblr blog I follow and rarely see on my dash but i was in the middle of talking to someone tonight and -shoop-, odin the tumblr blog hit me like a brick. i don't really believe in supernatural things, but my wife does and i've been drinking, so, i thought i'd write this message to remind you that 1.) you never know whose lives you have affected in a positive way. I am just a rando and yet you've made enough of an impact that my consciousness randomly reminded me you existed. how fucking weird is that? in a good way. if you ever lose confidence in yourself, and god forbid that, remember that there are potentially countless others who use their idea of who you've portrayed yourself as as a source of strength for themselves, and those portrayals aren't made out of nothing, they come from who we are.

and 2.) no one is perfect, you know that and I know that, everyone has said or done something they regret that they could point to (if they absolutely had to) of something they wish they could have done differently. But worth and deserving are not tainted by a negative choice like a drop of oil in a vat of water. Regardless of your opinion, I am telling you that you're a very good dude; you're a net positive force in your immediately peer group(s) and in your community as a whole. Hopefully you know that already and are aware of it, hopefully I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, but if you needed the reminded I'm giving it to you.

(I am not looking for a response, you can just read this and save or delete it, but if you do feel compelled to respond I do not care whether its private or public.)

Wow. I’m honestly at a loss for words 💙

Thank you so very much for the kind words, @classicintp

#ask #answered #classicintp #tyvm #i can only project who i am and who i wish to be #like sometimes when i get a boatload of racist or negative asks #asks like this really help balance things out #i apologize for not going through my asks very much lately #but damn sometimes the haters do get under my skin #but tysm #eventually ill have to turn anon back on #but woo boy do people show their whole ass on anon

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iamvegorott · 1 year ago

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Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 33

Part 1: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

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Henrik rubbed at his eyes as if trying to scrub the sight he had seen earlier from them and his memories. Marvin sat a mug of coffee on the table in front of Henrik, mask off and wearing a pair of briefs and Chase’s shirt, while Chase sat across from Henrik in just his pants.

“I am going to need bleach.” Henrik groaned.

“You didn’t even see that much.” Marvin scoffed, sitting in the chair between Chase and Henrik.

“I saw more than I should.” Henrik kept his hands over his face, sliding them down just enough to see the other two.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve heard you and Edward have sex before.” Marvin shrugged.

“You have what!?” Henrik yelped, hands slapping down on the table and showing his cheeks had gone pink.

“Where was I?” Chase asked with a laugh.

“Why were-when did-? Marvin!” Henrik struggled to form a proper sentence.

“It’s fine. It just means we’re all even.” Marvin shrugged.

“Technically, Edward and I are out of the loop,” Chase said.

“Could kill two birds with one stone and have a foursome,”

“Absolutely not!” Henrik yelped, the pink now turning to a dark red.

“Well, it’d technically be an orgy or something like that if you fuck your boyfriend while I fuck mine in the same room.” Marvin decided to let the phrase drop mid-‘argument’ to get it done and over with.

“We are not-wait…did you just say boyfriend?” Henrik’s embarrassment faded in an instant.

“Maybe,” Marvin said with a soft smile.

“Are you two?” Henrik looked to Chase.

“Yep.” Chase smiled as well.

“Fucking finally!” Henrik exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air.

“I think he approves.” Chase chuckled.

“Just a bit.” Marvin sighed, keeping his soft smile

“Oh hush, you two were more terrible when it was myself and Edward. Let me have this.” Henrik scrunched his nose up at the others before chuckling at himself.

“Figured I’d share some good news real quick…since I’m assuming what you want to talk to us about isn’t the happiest stuff in the world?” Marvin clicked his tongue.

“That is fair and correct.” Henrik chewed his cheek for a bit. “I want to discuss Robbie and also what plans you two have for finishing the task Dark gave you. I was also going to ask if you two were okay with each other, but that has already gotten answered in several ways.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view~” Marvin played up a fake purr.

“Can we start with Robbie? That while hand thing isn’t normal, right?” Chase realized his wording after it was too late, remembering how Robbie had pleaded to be normal. “Everything I’ve read about it never mentioned that stuff.”

“It is not usual. I need to do more research, but I believe it’s related to how he got brought back.” Henrik said.

“There’s not a lot of research on mixing science and magic. People just don’t do it.” Marvin added. “Well, at least your average person doesn’t do it.”

“None of us would be what anyone would consider average.” Henrik weakly chuckled.

“I mean, I’m just a dude.” Chase tried to help with the joking as well.

“So, what do you know about Robbie’s thing?” Marvin asked, deciding to skip over a different kind of joke he was going to make about Chase being ‘above average’ in a way that would get Henrik to blush and yell at him again.

“From what he has told me, it seems like his body can go on the defensive, getting those hands and eyes he showed us, but I also assume it may come with additional strength. Thinking back on some more details, his veins appeared to have thickened with that change in his hands. And this may be a leap in logic with no evidence yet to back it up, but him being stronger would not shock me.” Henrik was now resting his elbow on the table, leaning forward with his hands on either side of his head as if trying to hold his thoughts together. “He’s just a kid. For now.” He dropped his hands and sighed. “Who knows how long that will last, or…how long he will.” Henrik sniffed and used the back of his hand to scratch the tip of his nose, trying to hide his sorrow. Marvin reached across the table and placed his hand on top of Henrik’s other one, giving it some comforting pats.

“I think he’ll stop at twenty-one.” Chase suddenly said.

“What?” Marvin and Henrik said together.

“I mean, like, we’ve all just been saying Robbie’s fifteen 'cause it seems right. What’s to say he’s not actually seventeen? The same age Marvin’s magic stuff kicked in? Robbie probably doesn’t know how old he is because he doesn’t even know when he was born since he’s jumped so much in such little time. He is like, totally a mix of you two; nerdy, sarcastic, and stubborn as hell. The magic in this house started when Marvin was twenty-one. I think that’s when Robbie will stop his jumping and continue as usual.” There was a long pause as Henrik and Marvin just stared at Chase. Both were in shock at the logical connections and conclusions he made on his own. “What?”

“That was probably the smartest thing I have ever heard you say,” Henrik said.

“Even himbos can have their moments.” Chase had the biggest grin.

“Hen, you might want to head out because I really want to fuck this man again.” Marvin almost seemed to have hearts in his eyes.

“Do not tell me that while holding my hand.” Henrik slipped his hand free. “But Chase does have a point. With how weird magic is and how I made it weirder by adding science, that does not seem too long of a shot.”

“Guess we’ll just have to watch Robbie a bit more,” Marvin said. “And probably ask him how he feels on all levels of that.”

“True. But for now, he needs to rest. I hope there is never a day when he’d have to use that other…um…form of his.” Henrik said, and there was another pause before he changed subjects. “What are your plans now that you know who and where the apprentice is?”

“Step one is to talk with Mad,” Marvin stated.

“Talk to him about what?” Chase asked.

“From what I saw, I think he hates Actor and is only agreeing to stay with him out of fear of literally exploding. The guy in charge of watching over him, Mare, also seems to like Mad a lot more than Actor.”

“Like or Like like?” Henrik traced out a heart with his hands.

“Honestly, I have no clue. They’re at least very close. I’d need more time watching them to figure that out or at least a few minutes of watching them that doesn’t involve hiding from someone who would likely benefit from my death.” Marvin hummed in thought. “We should call Phantom while we head back to that house tonight and confirm if Mare is his brother. If they’re related, we can use that to our advantage.”

“Do you have Phantom’s number?” Chase was already standing to go get ready.

“No. But I have Jackie’s.”

----------

Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing

#meeting a magical man #trickshot #veggie writes

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toestalucia · 6 months ago

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(man at podium) hello. captain & lyria separating effects & this and that post of what i reread of main story today

Suddenly Captain's entire body is overcome with nausea. There's no discernable change to the room, yet Captain is clearly suffering from adverse effects. The captain's body trembles violently despite not being sick. Then the door to the room suddenly swings open. Vyrn: You gotta come quick, Captain! The principal kidnapped Lyria! Captain and Patia are thunderstruck by Vyrn's revelation.

this is the later one but its also the lighter one...<33 but also aaughhhh i think about this one in particular sm.......

Captain whose own life is intertwined with Lyria's, feels the strain of the distance being put between them.

T_^.....

Choice: We have to save them… Eugen: I ain't tryin' to mutiny against captain's orders… But as your elder, I can't let you go out and fight in your condition. You can barely stand. I bet you can't even see straight.

Choice: I said I'm fine… Loki: Get on the ship. Considering how volatile Bestia is, we could be swarmed at any given moment. I'd break down and cry if I witnessed your journey end here. Although Captain heeds Loki's suggestion, the captain more or less has to be dragged onto the Grandcypher.

when the one u share ur life with gets dragged to the otherworld and u immediadetly feel like ur dying ( u literally are slowly dying). also the funniest line loki has ever had WHAT ARE U SAYIINNNGGGGGG (loki fan)

Loki brings Fenrir with him to give the crew some parting words. Fenrir expresses her shock when she sees Captain in such a dejected state. Fenrir: Who's this sad sack? So this is what happens when the girl in blue is taken away from you, huh? Io: Is that all you came to say? Well, if you're done being a meanie-pants, then go back to your own ship!

HHHADHADHAHHDAJKDHADJKAD I FORGOT THIS HAPPENED

Loki: I came to pay my respects. You never know, right? This might be the last time I get to see a breathing Captain. Choice1: Not in the mood. Choice2: Shut up. Loki: Ouch. Are you sure you want your last words to be so full of vitriol?

THINGS I ALSO FORGOT ABOUT "shut up" BHHHDAHADHADHADHADK

the rest r mika things ill take them on multi later. (mika obsession) + lokis talk about the otherworld is interesting......unique to the otherworld....the otherworld thats a threat to even astrals......(mikas 'im gonna create echidna so i can have the otherworld kill the astrals' excellent plan)

Choice: Our hearts beat as one.

Captain's heart begins to pound at the prospect of battle. But unlike the typical adrenaline rush, this throbbing of the heart signals a far greater danger. Red—the color of blood and danger. It dyes Captain's vision as the world starts to fade.

rip. but also i think about this part a lot too. fatally wounded at the start of act1, falls off an island at the end of act2, literally is so close to dying again in act3.............

Envoy: But you are the worst off, Singularity. The reason your father left you behind to go on his journey is because of those two gods. Can't you see? They deprived you of the family life you deserved. The bonds you've forged with the girl and the dragon are next to be severed. You will lose them beyond a shadow of a doubt. Make no mistake, Singularity. You are the biggest victim in this conflict between deities. You are justified in demanding their destruction. Your revenge is waiting to be served. We Precursors loathe both gods as much as you do. If you plan to strike back against them, then our goals are the same. Will you join hands with us? Choice1: I don't think so. Choice2: Get real. Unprepared for Captain's outright refusal, the envoy scrambles to come up with something to say.

when u go on a big speech but the dude says get real. true king experienced that. anyway the entire initial meeting parts with the otherworld is sooooo........+ i forgot they mention maxwell alrdy when necesaria killed violet knight & spoke to his superiors.........+namedropped some other ones. on one hand i nvr expected society in msq on the other. in hindsight. ofc they were gonna be introduced LOLLL i need to reread the society parts where maxwell shows up....

i did grab the holy seat of genesis stuff too, but i think i wanna grab reptis talk about estalucia first and post it together..........dude i love main story

also. there IS the part where another timelines lyria died because captain got laser'd. im so sad about ebisu too still;_; leave it alone fk u otherworld

#stardust speaking !#gbf spoilers

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castle-dominion · 1 year ago

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castle 5x15 target. Plot heavy babes. I remember seeing gifs from this ep & when I saw that this was the one I got super excited. Good thing I have an extra 15 minutes on my schedule.

The intro was great. here's the transcript: A man runs through an alley, avoiding puddles and trying not to fall. He does, but he’s up in a second and continuing his run. He jumps over a homeless man and into the street. There’s a van racing toward him, but he just takes a stance and starts shooting at it. Despite taking several hits, the van doesn’t stop. It plows right into the man. Why doesn't he get out of the way tho? he shot as much as she could

RC: Ah. The student becomes – (he chews and she waits) – the failed student. The dropout. You fed her this? (he grimaces) Mother, you are forever forbidden from practicing the art of pancake-do(ugh)

RC: Like Simba in The Lion King. It’s the circle of life.

I didn't know shoes did that irl... RC: Yeah, but I wouldn’t be okay with that. I don’t want to see where she goes. What other birds of prey are out there, or what other nests, or – btw becks is pretty man vs van lol Wow. I know we saw it but still.

Jan. New name for this uniformed officer. nice gun! Columbia? *concerned for his daughter* don't much like Bram stoker? Lmao (oh wow

BS: (dryly) Witty. I’ve never heard that one before. I grew up with a punny name. Joy. People said "you must be a joyful person" whenever they would meet me for the first time. I had depression. (not diagnosed yet ofc but still.)

Ah. Overly familiar. He threatened to kill you? Bro, you have authority behind you, this is not the time to be flirting. Vampires ARE in right now, just like a few seasons ago when ryan's ex girlfriend got them into a website

KR: *whistles* Look at this building. Hasim was living large for a college student. JE: Yeah, add that to the list of things about this dude that don’t add up. His records say he started as a freshman at 24. Now who does that? Me, in college: You would be surprised at the variance in age. But then again there is typically a lull. You either go in right after high school (or after a gap year) but then there are less ppl in there for a bit, & then they start coming back at maybe 30, 35. The majority of students I know in my term between 21 & 30 are international students. A lot of them have taken classes at home in the phillipenes & some are using a student visa to start immigration. Ofc the 24yo I do know who is not filipino was a meth addict & has a 3yo son so,, that's another explanation

empty place nope nvm just clean, that place is full of punching bags & stuff. Like esposito's. WOAH THAT IS A ... NICE.. CASE OF GUNS. Not locked or anything??? is this man insane? KR: Uh, yeah. And if his black belt skills didn’t get it done he always had this. light years measure distance...

only 24 & in special forces swiss bank accounts, as usual Nice hair on esposito RC: (shrugs) Maybe Jack Bauer was driving.

KIDNAPPING

ryan's shirt was pink in the other lighting & these stripes are interesting

These poor poor fellows, their daughter got abducted. I mean I like his tie they both look good... but this is sad bro the cops didn't know he was a discreet bodyguard

Agent Harris.

KB: Scared. Devastated. AH: Okay, that’s good. RC: It is? AH: It beats angry or defensive. They want to be helpful and honest,

RC: I've considered it

If the roommate wasn't listening too hard, science fiction is related enough to science. Could clip: It has the word in it Which I still haven't read XD

Oh NO I'm sure she can help solve the case... nice ringtone lol OH NO IT WAS ALEXIS lol nice pic of dad is sara's phone also there?

RC earlier: Oh, yeah. I just – can’t imagine what they’re going through right now. RC now: *his daughter was ALSO kidnapped*

Harris: Easier to take her than.. *looks at castle* not

Looks like a drug smuggler tbh Ah he fled. Could be political. If they find out she is the daughter of a rich novelist then they might use sara for political stuff & alexis for ransom.

Gates will just see friends comforting each other, it's fine

Oof they all watch him leave... KR: It’s Alexis. He’s gotta be wrecked. Hell, I’m wrecked. allexis AND Sara

MR: No, no, no. I’m not just saying this. She’s going to be all right. I feel it in my heart and my heart is never wrong. RC: What about your first marriage? MR: Well... RC: And your second? MR: Okay, fine. Fine. Occasionally my heart is wrong, but it is not in this case.

Plainclothes & unmarked, wise decision.

Aww looking at her school photos NO SHE HAS GIVEN INFORMATION ABOUT WHERE & WHEN SHE SKATES BEFORE NO NO FREAKING IDIOT ASDJFKLSDFASHGSDCJF

RC: Don’t. (she goes to respond, but doesn’t) Don’t promise me you’ll find her unless you can do it. Because … (he pauses, then his voice breaks) … I would never forgive you. (she’s quiet) Any more than I’d ever forgive myself.

It is already late, what's going on?

LT my beloved

No, she didn't call be she has no GOOD news, she might not have bad news either. If she was dead, she'd call, if she was alive, she'd call, if they are not sure, they'd rather keep him in the dark. Probs should stay home, don't come.

See what? Do they KNOW what they will see?

DP & camera crew & editing & all this stuff did really great. The way lanie stops him it is so important to me, the movement the camera the voice, I might clip this it is painful & beautiful

a+ like me! I should donate blood again. I need more iron tho. Your baby hhhhhh castle crying sdjsldkfsdjfksdfljsldfjk Castle they know how to do this

Castle should go hug the other couple. He has worked with the police, he can support them in knowing the cops are succeeding, they can support him in being emotionally distraught parents together.

Truck pod? Why are the lamps on? ig so the girls can find them & don't freak out. Why didn't they get dropped on the bed initially tho? instead of waking up on the floor?

I JUST GOT CALLED IN FOR WORK GOSH HECK IT. & I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO TRY TO CATCH THE BUS THAT WOULD GET ME THERE HALF AN HOUR EARLY SO I'M GOING TO HAVE ONLY FIVE MINUTES TO GET IN, IRON MY CLOTHES, CHANGE, & GET ON THE LINE. GRRRR

I'm back.

I like her accent Ooh a course on security Both your dads are rich Wow alexis has Some Shoes (& also rings) At least they gave you clothes & towels.... & food

Ooh that car stuff sounds cool but I don't understand any of it

You know they want you alive, you know this room has a washroom Ryan looking nice ngl I genuinely thought that Ryan meant he was dead

You would... like a minute with him? Good, he's the dad, maybe he can get emotion on his side I'm not a cop This is SO SO SO intimidating. this is GOOD WHAT THE CRAP (it might be,, traumatizing to torture someone)

No thanks my adrenaline will suffice

Nice telescope

relationship w/o eye contact lmao. I mean, audio amiright?

KB: Tell me what happened with Douglas Stevens. RC: RC: I appealed to his humanity. KB: KB: I didn’t think you had that side to you. RC: Well, when it comes to the people I love, I do.

My mother knows a little bit of arabic. Like, ten words

Didn't he see the cams on his telescope? I like how the fbi yelled out that they had a search warrant

Tiny person!

Then why did they say "return to your post we have visitors" if they were not the fbi visiting the farmhouse?

(caskett double breasted jacket) WHY would they leave the jackets? why would they take them off? OH MY GOODNESS HOLY CRAP WHY WOULD THEY TORTURE HIM? HOW DOES THE FBI NOT KNOW?

Through the floor? The floor is already breaking, maybe you could use the lid of the toilet tank as a shovel

I mean, you aren't at square one, you just have no squares after this

I mean you know the theory & even if it takes hours... Sara YOU were the one who took the kidnapping course take off your shoes to be quiet Is this real-time footage? Why is the phone unlocked? The person it belongs to must be coming back soon *uses skype instead of calling her dad* Plus, did she have to log in? No it is an untitled caller Girl you have like, a good 15% left Girl take the phone with you maybe, esp if you happen to find a window or a person's face

that was NOT (our) ryan saying that lol the cant FUDGING PARIS the rooftop this is incredible

the CREDITS MUSIC

#castle 5x15 #castle 5x15 spoilers #castle 5x15 quote #the alexis-napping episode

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jasonbehrs · 2 years ago

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🎭 wear your heart where i can see 🎭

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

a dbsk fanfic about falling in love on a trial run

“But you’re a dude!”

“That will continue to be true for every lesson in the curriculum, so I suggest you get over that quickly.”

ship: yunjae chapter: 5/10 word count: 2.6k+ rating: T+ for cursing

read it on ffnet, aff, ao3, or below!

~~~

Jaejoong enters the lunch room the next day a little later and a little more annoyed than he normally does. His geometry teacher held him back after class to talk about his performance on the last quiz. It wasn't the best, admittedly, but he didn't need the reminder. Right now, the only triangular shapes he cares about are pizza slices.

A roar of noise erupts from one of the tables near the food pick-up, and he recognises the students to be the hapkido team as he gets in line. He wants to find their antics obnoxious but cannot. If High School Musical taught him anything, it's that sports teams and drama clubs aren't as diametrically opposed as they think they are.

As the line progresses, Jaejoong idly thinks about what a theoretical 'Stick to the Status Quo' musical number would look like in their school cafeteria, then he recognises Yunho in the middle of the excitement. One of the team members is giving him a noogie, and he's close enough (and they're loud enough) that he can pick out the accompanying jibes.

"When do we get to meet her?" "It must be pretty serious if the Jungster himself is telling us!" "Has she figured out yet that you're a fucking nerd?"

Jaejoong turns his back on the scene with a warm yet wry smile playing on his face. He's always had the impression of Yunho being a diligent student, so it shouldn't surprise him that spirit applies even in this.

When he has his lunch in hand, he looks over at the hapkido table one more time. They've settled down while he was ordering, which gives Yunho the opportunity to see Jaejoong above the heads of his friends. He offers a happy little wave, and Jaejoong responds with a nod. Yunho gives him one last smile before returning his attention back to his friends, then Jaejoong notices there's actually space for one or two more people at their table. Something he is choosing to call an intrusive thought tells him to take the spot next to Yunho, but he resolutely shakes it off.

A wave out of the corner of his eye gets his attention, and he finds the table where Sooyoung and some other drama club kids are sitting. When he gets closer, she shifts to make a spot for him and doesn't even let him take a bite of his pizza before pouncing. "So what did Jung Yunho want with you yesterday?"

Jaejoong blinks at her. He can't believe he never told her about his newest extracurricular activity, especially considering she was basically the inspiration behind it all. Where would he even begin?

He looks into her expectant eyes, opens his mouth, and says the words, "He was lending me his geometry notes. I totally bombed the last quiz."

Sooyoung makes a sympathetic noise. "I'm sorry. Here, have my brownie." She drops the dessert on his plate and lets him eat in peace, but now Jaejoong isn't quite hungry.

He tells himself that it's because they aren't alone that he's hesitant to launch into a dramatic retelling of his past few weeks, but he knows himself enough to know it's just a convenient excuse. He just doesn't really want to find out the real reason yet either, though.

"By the way, what can you tell me about Kwon Boa?" he asks to distract himself.

Sooyoung sends him a weird look over her drink. "Probably nothing that you don't already know. She's the one who kicked our butts during rehearsal last night, does that ring a bell?"

"Humour me."

"Hardass, gorgeous, smart, flexible, unattainable, gorgeous…" she lists.

"Yeah, but you were on the dance team with her last year. Can't you tell me anything more specific?"

Sooyoung narrows her eyes at him, trying to determine the purpose of his line of questioning, but then she tilts her head as she thinks about how to respond. This is what Jaejoong loves about her. She'll judge him and take him seriously in the same instance.

He's halfway done with his lunch when she speaks up again. "Boa has this reputation for being an ice queen, but she really just has high standards. She's pretty normal when she's not in work mode, actually. People also think she's a stick in the mud, but I never thought that was fair. She's just not the life-of-the-party type of person. Like, she has a great sense of humour but can't make the joke herself, you know? … Honestly, she isn't really your type, boobs and vag notwithstanding," Sooyoung ends jokingly.

Jaejoong elbows her in good nature, but inside he's agonising.

She may not be his type, but he could totally see why she would be Yunho's.

~~~

After school, he's doing homework in his room wondering if maybe he really should ask Yunho for his geometry notes when the boy himself texts him.

I'll have you know that the hapkido team has been made aware of new variables to my after school availability

Jaejoong makes a face. please don't say it liek that to your real girlfriend, she's gonna hate it

The reply is quick. Last time I checked, that's you, is it not? Concepts in practise, and all

do not cite the textbook to me, student! i was there when it was written and yes exactly since i am your rEaL gIrLfRiEnD, i'm telling you to quit it wait

What?

what am i saved as in your phone?

Yunho's next message is a screenshot of a contact page. The text at the top, right above Jaejoong's phone number, reads 'Prince Charming'.

Jaejoong's fingers move before he tells them to. YAH!

Is something the matter?

Technically? No. Jaejoong had asked because he was going to encourage Yunho to save him under a nickname anyway. If Yunho's little sister is anything like Jaejoong's older one, then their conversations are liable to be perused at any moment for the sake of her entertainment. As he suspected, Yunho wanted to keep their practise-dating-slash-tutoring thing a secret; and 'Prince Charming' hides enough.

Another text comes in. You said you liked the nickname

But that's the real problem, isn't it? He does like the nickname; he likes that Yunho made that his contact name—as opposed to his initials or a fake name or something else—without any prompting on Jaejoong's part at all.

He likes it a little too much.

i need a cooler one for subterfuge purposes, you understand, he eventually fires off.

Again, the reply is quick. Shouldn't I get a secret agent nickname too then? I bet my name in your phone is just Jung Yunho

Jaejoong burns with indignation. How dare that punk be right.

He looks around his room desperately, trying to find inspiration for something quick and clever he could change Yunho's contact name to. Unseen pressure forces him to choose quick over clever, so he groans and settles for something basic.

excuse you, i am committed to this relationship

The attached photo shows a screenshot of Yunho's own contact page entitled 'Hot Stuff 🔥'. Unfortunately, that really was the best Jaejoong got.

When more than a minute passes without hearing from the other, Jaejoong's mind helpfully supplies he actually has homework he needs to do. He turns his phone face down on his desk with a sigh and looks back at the worksheet he's supposed to be filling out, but then he remembers why he stopped so easily in the first place. He has no clue how to solve this problem.

He figures it's time to actually ask for some real help, but Yunho's incoming text distracts him again.

That's very flattering, thank you. You're rather cute yourself ❤

Jaejoong stares at the characters on his screen like they may change from Korean into something else at any moment. That is a suspiciously flirty response coming from Yunho.

oh yeah? what's cute about me~

He pays rapt attention to the dots at the bottom of the screen that portend an incoming message. It's not that he has expectations or hopes for what the response will be, but he's intrigued by what it will reveal.

Your food is delicious

Jaejoong barks out a laugh into his empty room, more relieved than disappointed. Of course. Yunho couldn't be flirting with him; he doesn't know how!

why am i not surprised that's your answer ;p give me another. i want one about ME

Jaejoong leans back in his seat, waiting for the comedy to be delivered right to his fingertips.

Your voice is cute

He nearly falls backwards, and Yunho isn't done.

Cute may be a strong word, but I like your voice a lot. It's very unique. I can pick it out in a noisy room I also like the way you talk, like everything is a joke just waiting to find the right audience I think you're funny too, but I'm not sure this one counts because everyone thinks you're funny

Jaejoong almost cracks his phone from the frantic way he's handling it as message after message rolls in. Where is this all coming from? Why does Jung Yunho know so many words?

Finally, there is a lull in notifications, and Jaejoong tentatively takes a peek at the most recent message in their chat log.

And of course, you're cutest when you're next to me

His heart beats a dangerous rhythm against his chest when he reads those words. A cursory glance at the rest of the chat reveals a string of compliments that become more and more cheesy as he scrolls through, and he cannot handle any of that right now—not what they say, not what they mean.

yAH CAN YOU READ?! i said one (1)! he sends in an embarrassingly hopeful stupor before desperately scrolling back up again. What did Yunho say? What did Yunho mean?

The reply comes in as a bubble at the top of the screen. Ah, right… Extra credit then? ;)

Jaejoong will not admit it to himself until his subconscious does it for him later at night, but that winky face, in all of its unassuming and unexpected glory, is probably what seals his fate.

~~~

The text messages are still on his mind in the minutes between English and Literature the next day, which makes Yunho's sudden appearance by his side a welcome yet disconcerting surprise.

"Woah, hey! Jumpy today. Everything okay?"

Uncharacteristic awkwardness overcomes Jaejoong in the face of Yunho's concern. "Yes?"—No, he should sound more confident.—"I mean, yeah! Yeah, I would say so. You don't have to worry about me."—No! That's such a weird thing to say, what the hell.—"I mean, um."

He needs to get over this.

"What's up?" he finishes lamely.

Yunho only blinks at him, and yeah, Jaejoong deserves that. He forces himself to find a grip and get it. "I have Literature next. What about you?"

Not the best recovery, but at least Yunho stops looking at him like he should take Jaejoong to the nurse. "What classroom is that in?"

"206, why?"

Yunho looks around furtively, which is a silly enough action that the need to make fun of Yunho makes Jaejoong come back to himself. They're in a high school; there's no such thing as privacy.

Yunho seems to realise the same thing. "Come with me." He grabs hold of Jaejoong's hand to pull him in the opposite direction they're walking, and Jaejoong's feet follow him in surprise before putting up a feeble fight. "What are you doing? We have class!"

Yunho continues to pull him through the hall and down some stairs. "I don't have a quiz or anything. Do you?" He looks over his shoulder with mischief in his eyes, and Jaejoong feels awkward again. He only shakes his head.

They're not running in slow motion through empty halls like in the movies, but they may as well have been in Jaejoong's mind. Is this really Yunho—studious, learn-the-theory, can-homework-be-part-of-a-date Jung Yunho—who's making them skip class so they could be alone together?

He was stupid to think that he could put up a fight against whatever Yunho's planning, not like this. He wants to see where this will go, late Joseon poetry be damned.

Yunho takes them all the way outside, and Jaejoong's feet trip over nothing. The only thing out here on this side of campus worth visiting is the Backstreet. Yunho knows what the Backstreet is for, right?

To Jaejoong's surprise and anticipation, it's empty.

Yunho walks them to the alley entrance, not much deeper than they were the first time, and leans against one wall, hands in his pockets and legs stretched out to almost reach the other side with his toes. Jaejoong mirrors the pose on the opposite wall and tries to calm down. He is thrumming with the energy it takes to contain his expectations, but he doesn't know what this all means yet.

He knows what he wants this to mean, though.

Yunho leans forward and leers. "So, how did I do?"

Jaejoong doesn't know what he's referring to, but that isn't enough to stop a stupid answer to a stupid question. "You were very good at leading us all the way here," he says with a faux-serious nod.

"No!" Yunho laughs. "I meant last night."

Jaejoong straightens his posture in interest. Yunho wants to talk about last night? The hope he has been refusing to acknowledge blazes anew in his chest. The memory of Yunho's sweet, promising words; the auspicious location for playing hooky; the way Yunho is looking at him with eager eyes—he can feel a blush blooming on his cheeks, but he doesn't bother trying to hide it. What use would that do? He's the cutest when he's besides Yunho, after all.

Yunho's grin widens, gets a little toothy. "Yeah? I passed?"

"Passed?" Jaejoong repeats with a confused smile, still trying to figure out if he's going to have his first kiss with a boy today. Not just any boy. Jung Yunho.

Jung Yunho, who pulls his hands out and gestures excitedly. "Yeah, the flirty texts? The 'concepts in practise'?" He makes lazy air quotes with his fingers. "How did I do?"

Jaejoong's heart drops with no bungee cord to pull it back up to where it belongs.

With painful clarity, he reimagines last night in the context of what Yunho must have been thinking the whole time: it was one of their lessons. A test. He brought up extra credit, for fuck's sake, and Jaejoong still didn't get it.

He collects himself enough to remember he owes Yunho an answer. "Fine."

"'Fine'?!"

Jaejoong nods, face turned out of the alley. "You did fine."

"What! I thought I was being really sweet while maintaining a subtle, yet undeniable, flirtatious undertone!"

He was, but Jaejoong can't feel good about being on the receiving end of it anymore. He thought Yunho really meant those things, but he was stupid. Why would he humour Jaejoong so much if it weren't part of his endgame? It hasn't even been two days since he learned Yunho is doing all of this for Kwon Boa. Yunho wouldn't change his mind in two days.

"Is it because I didn't initiate?" Yunho wonders out loud.

It's his fault. Jaejoong is the one who changed his mind in two days. "Sure."

"Dangit, I knew you were gonna dock me points for that. Listen, I've been thinking about it. At this point in the relationship, isn't it fair for me to expect some pursuing in return? All the stuff you told me about my girlfriend wanting to feel wanted and whatever, doesn't that get to apply to me, too?"

Jaejoong pushes himself off the wall. He needs to get out of here. "You know what? You're right. Your girlfriend should ask you out."

Yunho perks up and follows Jaejoong out of the Backstreet. "Really?"

"Really." Jaejoong doesn't even bother to turn his head so that his voice can be heard better, focused as he was on the nearest school entrance. "Wait to hear from her."

He makes it inside a few paces before Yunho does, then he books it for the nearest staircase. He spares half a mind to hope that Yunho thinks he's preoccupied with making it back to class, but he's not going to class.

On the second floor, he beelines for the bathroom and locks himself in a stall. He gets up on the toilet and squats and curls inward on himself just in time for the first tears to fall.

He was so, so stupid.

~~~

A/N (4.16.2023): Past midnight where I am, but it's still Saturday somewhere in America! This chapter was pretty short and perhaps weirdly paced, but the next one will make up for it! Also, I made slight edits to chapters 1-3 to help set up for later in the story. I normally only publish my works after the whole whole thing is already written for this very reason, but I was trying something new with this story. I'm gonna go back to my old method for my next work, but this was still a good learning experience. :)

#dbsk #yunjae #kim jaejoong #jung yunho #kpop #dbsk fanfiction #tvxq fanfiction #jaso*#wyhwics #tvxq

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theveryworstthing · 4 years ago

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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