#i love fishing in games yet it took me so long to make a rod cuz there was just so much to do !!!!

[sil3ntm0thart]

my fields of mistria farmer! really like the game!

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[wooahaes]

sweet like chocolate

pairing: non-idol!elementary school teacher!seungkwan x gn!elementary school teacher!reader

prompt: hot chocolate.

word count: 1.0k~

warnings: food mention!

daisy’s notes: tell me seungkwan wouldn’t be a cute teacher tbh.

Seungkwan was almost positive you’d be a little annoyed with him by the time he got back with your cups of hot chocolate.

Every single year, the school had a small winter festival for the kids. It was usually a way to raise money with the kids getting their own tickets for free, and their parents being able to buy additional ones--plus they could put in money for the cake walk that the other teachers were running. Seungkwan, by some stroke of luck (likely due to the fact your classrooms were right next to one another), ended up partnered up with you to run a little fishing game for the kids. He’d help you hang up the shimmery blue curtain in front of the door, low enough that the makeshift fishing rod would be able to be cast over (with some help from him and the parent volunteer). One of you would be on the other side, sticking small toy prizes (ducks or little toy bears that could fit one’s palm--tiny things) onto the “hook” (magnets that you’d be able to pull off once the kid caught their prize). It was just a small game, but the kids seemed like it and that was what mattered in the end.

With a parent to take over his role for a bit, he promised you he’d bring hot chocolate when his ten minute break was over. The building was cold, and he liked the way your eyes lit up at the promise of hot chocolate.

Which... was why he was two minutes late at this point. The hot chocolate booth had been across the school, and Seungkwan was taking his time to make sure he didn’t spill a drop because the drink was dispensed into lidless styrofoam cups. He’d lodge a complaint with Jeonghan next year to do something safer, especially with a hot liquid that children would be drinking. Sure, they hadn’t had any incidents yet (and from the sip Seungkwan took, the hot chocolate wasn’t too hot), but it meant he had to walk slow enough to not bump into any wandering kids.

Yet when he came back, you were sitting on the outside, the parent volunteer inside hooking the toys (the easier job, he’d learned, since whoever was outside had to basically wrangle kids into sitting still long enough to get their prize). Your hands covered the tiny tot’s as you built excitement with your words, and he smiled to himself for a moment.

There was a reason Vernon kept telling him that he should just shoot his shot and ask you out despite the fact Seungkwan denied having any feelings for you. The look in his eyes, soft and warm and completely enamored with how gentle you were, was enough to say it. He watched the way you helped pull the line back in, gasping in fake awe at the little blue duck that was stuck to the end of it. He watched the way you easily plucked the glued-on magnet off of the toy, shoving it into your pocket before handing the toy to the excited kid, who immediately turned and showed it to his mom. The mom took her son’s hand and guided him away with a smile before lifting him up into her arms, and Seungkwan finally returned to you.

You beamed at the hot chocolate in his hands, taking your cup and thanking him. “It’s freezing in here,” you said. “I know it’s because Seungcheol didn’t want the building to get too hot, but not a ton of people are here...” 

Which wasn’t wrong--the two of you had one of few booths set up in this hallway. Therefore, you didn’t get too many people as a result. You had enough that your box of toys was running low, but not enough to warrant how cold the building was.

“My scarf is on my desk,” he said, “You can have it if you want.”

Borrow. He meant borrow. But you merely shook your head, smiling, “That’s sweet of you, but I’m fine.” You leaned back against the wall, “My love for the kids keeps me warm.”

Cheesy, but that was why Seungkwan was totally-not-in-love with you. Liked. He liked you. Maybe, if someone were to pose the word “crush” to him, he’d say that fit, too. But love? He didn’t want to confess to that yet. He’d let his heart hold onto that one a little longer. Instead, he’d let you reduce him down to a schoolboy again: heart fluttering in his chest as he wondered if your lips were as soft as they looked. His heart would leap into his throat whenever your hand brushed against his own, too.

Chan had called out your name as he was strolling past with one of the cakes that he was meant to be taking to the gymnasium, stealing one glance at Seungkwan before turning his sights back on you. “Are you free this weekend?”

Chan smiled. “There’s a cafe we could go to. It has nice dessert. And better hot chocolate than that,” he nodded toward your cup. “If you want--”

“I’m going out with Seungkwan on Saturday,” you had said, still smiling that polite smile Seungkwan was used to seeing you with.

Seungkwan’s eyes went wide at the sudden proclamation and his mind raced. Shit, did he agree to go somewhere with you? He would have remembered that, wouldn’t he? Surely, he would have told Vernon, and Vernon would have teased him over it a little because he was so enamored with you--

“Ah,” Chan said, still smiling as he took a few steps backward down the empty hall. “About time,” he turned, calling back “Have fun!” as he quickly made his way back to the gym.

Seungkwan turned to you the moment that Chan was out of earshot, “We didn’t have plans.”

“Are you free?” You asked, still smiling that cute smile at him.

“Yes?”

“Then,” your eyes were sparkling as you turned to face him fully, “go out with me.”

general taglist: @wonuziex​ @twancingyunhao​ @synthetickitsune​

[deans-baby-momma]

Law & Love Chapter 12

A/N: And this story is back......with a twist at the end......cliffhanger anyone???? BAHAHAHAHAHA (that's my evil laugh)

THEN

As Beau returns to his desk, he realizes that he also likes the idea of going home with her, that his place was considered 'theirs' now.

NOW

After making sure that my attackers are going to be put away, Beau and I head back to his camper, or as he called it- home. Although, almost immediately he is called away on the case concerning his daughter and her step-father; leaving me to quietly relive the revelations made today.

The news of the altercation at the diner was on the evening news and not long after, I received word that the diner was temporarily closed until the whole ordeal blew over. The owner, a nice man by the name of Fred, also offered me a permanent position as head waitress if I want to come back and work at, as he called it, the scene of the crime.  I told him I would think about it and let him know.

After leaving Eric, my douchey cheating ex, I had left with no particular destination. Arriving in Helena and deciding to settle down hours from anyone I knew was a spur of the moment decision;  one I had yet to regret. 

What I regretted was befriending Deb;  allowing her to know the more intimate parts of my life that I would usually keep to myself. Little did I know she was using it as fodder to manipulate and influence her own son to sleep with her; using my stories and life to seduce and fuck her own flesh and blood. 

My phone rings on the side table, causing me to jump out of my recollections. I look to see Beau's number on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hiya darlin'," he drawls in his Texan accent. I should've never told him I thought it was sexy because now he's just killing me with it. "How're you holding up? I hate that I had to leave you as soon as we got home."

I smile to myself at his words. He called it home again, as in his and mine-ours. 

"I'm okay Beau," I say, trying to relieve his worry. "How's Emily?"

Emily is Beau's estranged teenage daughter who just so happens to be in Montana, on a camping trip with her step-father. And of course, there is a killer on the loose in the woods nearby. 

"Traumatized but holding up," Beau states. "She's a good actress but I know my little girl, she's upset. Apparently she and the victim had become somewhat friends."

He audibly clears his throat and goes into his Sheriff voice. "Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. I'll be back pretty late so make yourself comfortable and I'll try not to wake you up when I come in."

"Okay, Sheriff Arlen," I answer, with a nod of my head. "Be careful."

"Always am," Beau tells me and then in a softer, quieter voice he continues. "This weekend- you, me, a couple of fishing rods and the lake?"

"It's a date, Beau."

Life as the significant other of a law enforcement officer is stressful and worrisome. 

The date at the lake didn’t happen because the killer in the woods upped his game by kidnapping the clerk of the local detective agency, along with Emily. And when Beau heard of Emily’s disappearance? Well, I saw a side of the man I was falling for I’d never seen before.

He was angry, hurt, worried, and fearful.  As soon as word got to him that his baby girl was missing, he bolted out of the camper and was in his truck speeding away before I made it to the door, leaving me behind to anxiously await news.

When Beau returns, he tells me about his confrontation with Avery, his daughter's step-father and the plan to make the man wear a tap to eavesdrop on his meeting with the suspects.

"It's a whole organization," he explains. "Avery stole from them, or has some information they want, and they took her to get his attention."

I can tell that the man sitting beside me is at his wits end and is about to lose it so I wrap my arms around him and pull his body toward me. I know I can't fix this but I can try to give him some comfort.

"She's my baby, Y/N. My little girl," Beau sobs as he nuzzles against my chest. "I saw her first step, heard her first word, bandaged her first injury.  I can't stand the thought of her out there, scared and alone and I can't get to her. What if she is just waiting for me to come save her? What if I'm too late?"

I plant a kiss to the top of his head. "You're going to find her, Beau. You're going to find her and get her back safe and sound. I may not have known you for long but I know when you are determined to get something done, nothing will stand in your way.

"You'll listen in on this meeting, find out the location she's being held and you'll bust up in there and save her. You'll still be a hero in her eyes."

Unfortunately, Avery was killed in a shootout at the meeting and the suspects knew nothing of the kidnap victims. 

Come to find out, the owner/operator of the camping organization was the killer and had kidnapped the two ladies to throw the cops off his trail. 

After some digging, Beau was reunited with his daughter, the clerk rejoined her bosses and Buck Barnes was dead. 

Life in Helena Montana could go on.

I'm wiping down the counter while Shelby, the new waitress, sweeps the floor when the bell alerts us to a new customer. We look toward the entrance to see a tall man in Wranglers and a cowboy hat step inside.

“Beau?” Y/N asks, shocked. 

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize that the stranger is, in fact, not Beau. He is much taller, his hair is shorter and the green eyes that I dream about are actually hazel on the man.

“Beau? Beau Arlen?” the man inquires and I can sense a hint of a Texas accent. “Do you know him?”

By now, Shelby is standing right behind me watching the interaction with a questioning look on her face..

“Yea, I know him. Who’re you?”

“Walker, ma’am. Cordell Walker,” he introduces himself. “Do you know where I can find Beau?” 

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam  @sandlee444 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr244 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @brownbearhusky @purpleeclipseeggslan @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites @yvonneeeeeeee @tmb510 @fallenlilangel99 @globetrotter28

[shesinshambles]

Ok ok I have a little fic idea…could we do Terzo being taught by his gamer gf how to play something simple like Minecraft but he is just hopeless at video games it would be too cute 🥰 I love your writing by the way <3

First wanna say sorry for how long this took, I had a busy weekend and wasn’t able to get to this as quickly as I would have liked. And thanks so much Anon! I really appreciate that. Being bad at gaming myself, I'll give it my best shot! Big thanks to @r3ptil3 for bouncing some ideas off with me. Hope it's to your liking!

“Cazzo!” Terzo bellowed, tossing his controller onto the empty spot on the sofa next to him. It landed with a thud onto the cushions and you bit your lip to stave off the bubble of laughter from escaping your throat as he grumbled and crossed his arms.

“No luck?” Terzo harumphed and you giggled under your breath, gliding to the sofa and plopping down next to him, picking up the Switch as you did.

“How dare you even ask that Cara mia,” he muttered, and you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him in comfort. He sighed and kissed the top of your head. After spending awhile watching you play Animal Crossing, Terzo had finally asked you if he could give it a go. He wanted to catch fossils, because as he said It looks much fun Cara Mia, you get so excited when you find a new one no? So, you set him up with a new island and even made sure he had a fishing rod to start, all he needed was to get the fish. All should have been fine, except for one tiny detail you may have overlooked. Terzo wasn’t very good at games. He was also known to sport a rather short temper at times. These things combined had resulted in a few things coming to pass. For starters, when you check his inventory, you find that he has yet to catch a single fish. Checking the time confirms to you that he’s been playing for nearly an hour. And, the sour look on your boyfriend’s painted face tells you that he’s well past his wits’ end.

You sigh, nestling further into the crook of his shoulder, his arm coming down to squeeze you into him. “You want some help, love?” you ask, and giggle again as his mismatched eyes widen and he bobs his head excitedly like a puppy being offered a treat.

“For the love of Satan Cara, please,” he whines. “Show me.”

“Alrighty then,” you grin, making sure Terzo can see the screen as you get comfy. He wiggles down a little into the sofa until his chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and you can’t resist kissing his cheek before you get started. He hums into it. “Were you watching the current?” you ask him, as you wait for a fish and cast your line.

“Che cosa?”

“The way the water’s moving love,” you giggle. “It might move your line further away if you don’t watch it.” He nods, a look of deep concentration on his face as he watches your line. You find he looks rather handsome with the way his eyebrows knit together and you let your gaze linger there until you hear a distinct plunk! And you reel it in, catching his first fish. “So, when you hear that sound, or when your bobber goes under—”

“bobber?”

“The floating ball.”

“Ah.”

“Mhmm. So when that goes under, press A to reel it in.” He nods again, and then makes a grabby motion with his hands.

“Let me try now, Cara.” You chuckle, handing him the console, and settle down into his chest. He’s not perfect at it, but he’s faring much better than he was before. And you spend the next couple minutes in silence, admiring his focused expression, and the adorable way the tip of his tongue has poked out between his lips. Finally, he reels in his first fish with a yelp of triumph.

“Ha! Cara I did it!” And he leans down, excitedly peppering your face with kisses. “Grazie!” A little peck to the cheek. “Grazie!” One to your nose. “Grazie!” And a big wet smooch to the corner of your mouth. You giggle, pushing his face away.

“You still have three more to go, love!”

“Sì, sì, tesoro. Un momento.” You hum, craning your neck up to give him a proper kiss, and he returns it with fervour, letting his soft lips linger against yours for a moment before pulling away. “Will you stay amore?” You smile, snuggling into his chest and breathing in his warm scent of spice and incense, sighing as he plants one more kiss to the top of your head.

“Of course, my love.”

[reddeadreference]

Blog Progress Update (Travel Blog Style 😎#10)

Doing Beau Grey's mission and I had to stop because Arthur's face as he listens to Beau go on and on about the love of his life. My heart… ow…

(Yes I actually spent the time to make the video above... I have too much time on my hands...)

Saw Kieran's fishing mission pop up. Went to Lagras. Realized I hadn't spoken to Mr. Gill yet. Took the camp boat across the lake. Ran back to fast travel to Lagras again. It was night. Helped a man get his home back from nite Folk. Forgot why I went to Lagras in the first place and fast traveled back to camp, remembered AS Arthur was kicking out the fire.

Back to Lagras, got the lures, back to camp .. and now instead Javier is ready to fish…

Wait, hold up… someone explain to me why I just PAID Grimshaw for making me clean up….

Alrighty fishing with Javi…

Javier: Slowly…slowly...

Arthur: *furiously reeling in the fish*

Javier: Bruh…

I was ready to just sleep to the next day to see if Kieran's mission popped back up… but then Molly called me over.. I refuse to ignore her even if Arthur will ultimately ignore her anyways…

Always interesting when Uncle is involved in missions… anyone else pronounce Lumbago like Trivago (lum-bah-go instead of lum-bay-go) because of that meme? Just me? Kay…

Went to go do the two debtors we got. Poor Gwyn… poor Mrs. Claypole….

Poor Winton… you never ever split up in a cave or horror situation of any kind.

“You’re supposed to be goin the other way”... I… I DID. I just didn't investigate the sound… I’m just tryin to save your life buddy… buh-bye… we tried Arthur, we tried…

Okay people in this camp need to stop looking so damn pretty I have so many filtered photos now it’s ridiculous…. (Idk if I should post them on this blog or my alt rdr blog… I have little collages made, each person with one filter each: Mary-Beth Red Pass, Tilly Yellow, Karen Blue, Sadie Western, Abigail Bleach Bypass, Molly Two-Split. Can't figure out which to use for Grimshaw… I was between Battlefield and Health Tonic for Kieran. )

DAMN IT ARTHUR I wanna GREET Kieran not yell at the poor boy!

The icon appeared for fishing with Kieran and then locked and then I saw him walking over with his fishing rod and it unlocked again and…. BOI the whirlwind of emotions I just went through. (Just watching the scene, this boy makes me do happy arm flaps XD. "Not much of a fisherman" "but I AM") I was taking a photo of him on his horse… and both our horses look high af XD

Caught the big bluegill ^-^ he was excited. Walked him all the way back to camp because I was curious because he started going in the complete opposite direction of camp. He went through the Braithwaite's field (we got yelled at by a guard ..) to the road. We passed by two men blowing open a safe… ended how you expected. Explosions really echo and reach far in the game don't they..

I'm pretty much putting off going into town to see Dutch for as long as possible so onto Lenny's mission!

Lenny mah boah!

Went into Rhodes to finally do the moonshine mission and I find a drunk man on a bench. Time to burn some stuff.

One question… did we have to STAB the damn squatters???

Anyway, I got that over with and went back to town. On my way to the mission I heard a woman behind the gunsmith, Arthur saved her. But of course me getting into a fight went against Dutch's "don't cause problems in town" rule. Arthur comes out from behind the building and sees Dutch and Bill on their horses… running away… neat detail, didn't know that would happen. Waited a bit and finally did the moonshine mission. Raced Dutch back and left him in the dust!! Haha! Like there was a good inch between us on the mini map.

Ah the genuine fun and good times..

--

I found a youtube channel that “datamined” the game to get clean versions of the songs (clean as in no background noise) so I’ll be able to make song posts with lyrics with those videos (obviously the videos will link to that channel still so it's not like I'm reposting the video itself) so I'm gonna start working on those soon.

[ddarker-dreams]

first kisses / scarlet ribbons.

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

> Concept; Situations from the different “universe” possibilities in Scarlet Ribbons, where SR Reader ends up with a respective partner. All world building/Pre-VA events are identical in each universe, until they split off into romantic pursuits Post-VA.

>Bruno Bucciarati;

It’s been a strange vacation. You’d like to think that you’re patient, but this is testing the limits of what you can handle. To think that Bruno finds this an enjoyable hobby is difficult to understand. 

"I don’t think I can do this, Bruno...” 

Your hands are shaky around the fishing rod’s handle, making the task at hand all the more difficult. He places his hand atop yours in hopes of reassuring you. The sight before you is stunning, clear ocean water as far as the eye can see, accompanied by a breeze that tickles your face. It smells of saltwater and Bruno’s musky cologne. He’s envelopes you from behind, whispering words of encouragement, warm breath fanning against your earlobe.

“You’re doing just fine,” he hums, clearly amused with your predicament. You pout, uncaring that he can’t see, thinking of how to best get revenge on your Capo later. When he mentioned a getaway weekend to the beach, this wasn’t what you were expecting. “You’ve made it through situations more strenuous than this one, cara. Steady yourself.” 

You grumble out a low string of words. He’s impossible to stay upset with. Time passes by, no fish biting the bait in the water. Finally, you feel the unmistakable tug, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Summoning all your strength, you hoist the fishing rod over your shoulder. Your catch hangs from the hook, a sign of victory, and a reward for your patience. 

Pivoting on your heel, you beam up at Bruno who returns your enthusiasm. “I did it, I did it!” 

“What did I tell you?” He chuckles as you celebrate, jumping up and down on the pier. Everything hits at once. The thought of how his father would’ve loved you as much as he does, how the sunset complements your glowing complexion, of how long he’s wanted to be intimate with you like this. Softening his gaze, his hands cup either side of your face. Anything up until this moment is forgotten, Bruno looking deep into your eyes. 

He closes the distance, head tilting to the side. He tastes of finely aged wine, kissing you with every ounce of emotion that’s been repressed for so long. You return the sentiments with equal fervor, the two of you breathing in sync as your lips mesh together. It’s you who pulls back first, lips tingling from the sensation of Bruno’s passion. He has successfully taken your breath away, a factor he’ll undoubtedly tease you about later. Not that you can be upset with him. If there’s anything Bruno is good at, it’s winning you over. 

He chuckles as you rush to catch your breath, fixing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

>Giorno Giovanna;

Hand in hand, you stroll down the streets of Naples by your lover’s side. It’s been an evening long in the making. Giorno is busy as he is diligent, another reason you’re grateful that he had a lull in his schedule to spend the day with you. Your day has overwhelmed your heart with joy since its conception, the two of you partaking in a variety of activities. All of which pales in comparison to spending time with the one you love. Quality time with Giorno is meant to be treasured, and you intend on doing just that. 

He comes to a sudden pause, earning your attention. You follow his example, standing in place until he explains what he’s up to. The night sky hangs overhead, not a single cloud in sight. Moonlight shines against his face, eyebrows furrowing and full lips parting. Giorno takes the time to prepare his words, hoping to still his rapidly beating heart. You blink, recognizing his thoughtful countenance, wondering what he intends to do next.

He takes a deep breath. “[First]... I wanted to thank you. For lending me your strength.” 

The statement feels out of the blue, sincerity interlaced with every word. You tilt your head. Where is this heading? Giorno wills himself to continue, momentarily distracted by your cute expression. With the hand that holds yours, he brings it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss against it. Warmth floods your face at the intimate gesture. It’s hard not to recall how you did the same thing to him long ago, when Giorno first took his role as Don of Passione. For someone this important to be doing that for you, it’s dizzying. 

Giorno looks up at your flustered self through thick eyelashes, drinking in the sight. 

“Y-you don’t need to thank me for anything.” You stutter out, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. If anything, you’re immensely grateful to him, for giving you the possibility at a different life. Had it not been for Giorno, crippling debt would still have a stronghold on your life. He shakes his head in disagreement. 

“I don’t get to express my gratitude for you often,” he releases your hand, going to cup your face. The pad of his thumb rubs circles lovingly into your cheeks. “So please let me do so now.” 

His words are so quiet, meant only for you to hear. You know how vulnerable he’s allowing himself to be with you. Love swells in your heart, and you meet him halfway to reciprocate the kiss he initiates. Your eyes flutter shut, arms wrapping around his neck; and his hands settle on your waist. There’s so much work to be done to secure the future he wants. A future with you in it. But for now, his mind thinks of none of the sort, too taken with your existence to entertain the thought of anything else.

>Guido Mista;

“You should feel all better now, right?”

Number Five’s sniffles settle down when you pull back, face morphing into a teary eye smile. This has become a tradition of sorts. When the other Pistols take to bullying Number Five, you make sure to pepper him in tiny smooches. Finally content after receiving his share of affection, Number Five returns to his spot of sitting on your shoulder. You’re about to return to looking at your phone when you hear someone clearing their throat.

Mista is stealing glances, his hat having been removed at your behest. Loose, brown curls frame his face, which has an uncharacteristic frown on it. “So, [First]...”

“So, Mista?” You repeat back to him, raising an eyebrow. His arm is behind you on the couch, fingers curling up and warm eyes avoiding yours. His sudden shift in mood strikes you as odd. Mista is the confident, boisterous type. Fluctuating from winking at you, to sharing god awful pickup lines from his favorite movies, and even trying to hit on you in your native tongue. So this apprehension is jarring.

He lets out a laugh, a nervous tick you’ve picked up on. “I was just thinking, babe. About how we haven’t... well, y’know...”

Mista is talking with his hands, trying to communicate what’s on his mind. You have a slight idea at what he’s hinting at. Instead of playing along with him, you decide to tease him as revenge for all the times he’s embarrassed you.

“That we haven’t slept together yet? Is that it? Hm, it’s pretty bold of you to try and come out and try to say that...”

You can’t hold back your grin at how his eyes widen, tan face accented with a bright blush. He’s sputtering out words in a last ditch attempt to salvage his tattered pride. When he sees you breaking out into laughter, and realizes you’re just messing with him, he fully intends to return the favor. Your wrists are grabbed ahold of, Mista pushing you down against the couch. Even as he hovers above you with what’s supposed to be a threatening look, your laughter only grows louder.

What should he do with you...? There’s always the option of tickling you until you’re begging for forgiveness. Or, he could just get what he originally wanted, by making your first kiss his. Opting on the latter, he brings his face down to meet yours. The kiss is everyone you wanted. A bit sloppy, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, and chest heaving with excitement. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he lets out a noise of surprise when you draw him in closer.

>Narancia Ghirgha;

“So, what does this lyric mean?”

This has become a familiar game between you and Narancia. He tends to enjoy English music more than anything else, and jumps at the opportunity to listen to it with you. Today, you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on your bed, sharing headphones. It’s a hot day out, your fan trying its best to stave off the summer heat. It’s always the little moments like this with Narancia that you treasure the most.

He waited until the song was finished to pose his question. You place a finger to your cheek, attempting to translate the notable lyrics in your mind before you explain them. You’re surprised that he’s expressing an interest in this particular song — Nights in White Satin — since it isn’t his normal taste. You were hoping to expose him to some other genres. The lyrics of the chorus are the simplest to bring over into Italian, so you start off with that.

His face goes red as a cherry as you repeat “I love you”, for every time the chorus would. Narancia stares at you, jaw agape, and it takes a moment for you to realize why he’s acting this way. Despite your close relationship, and evident feelings, neither of you have spoken those intimate words to one another before now. Feeling suddenly self conscious, you go to reaffirm that you were just translating the lyrics as he asked. 

“I was just—“

“I, uh, I l-love you too, [First]!” He exclaims at a loud volume, interrupting you.

You stare at him. He stares at you. Ah. It looks like you weren’t fast enough to explain the situation. You’re uncertain of who is most embarrassed at this rate. Neither of you speak a word, Narancia experiencing this situation through an entirely different viewpoint. Well, it’s not like you’d be lying if you had said those words with different intent. Still, such a heartfelt confession should be saved for a more fitting environment. Not when you’re wearing booty shorts and a tank top, fighting off sweat from Naple’s oppressive summer.

Narancia seems to be processing things on his own, shuffling to move even closer to you. He’s thinking that, after such a confession, now is the best time to make a move. His face is in front of yours before you know it, a shaky hand being pressed against the side of your face. He squeezes his eyes shut, puckering his lips, and leans in for the kiss. You’re in disbelief over how all of this is going down. It’ll be a story for the ages, you think.

Reaffirming his actions, you return his kiss with a smile, fighting off a laugh. Narancia’s body stiffens when your lips make contact, uncertain if he should hold back or go all in like he desperately wants to. The anxiety swelling up inside him wins out in the end. He pulls back, chest heaving, even though the kiss was very brief. He decides that you taste good, sweet as your personality. 

“Nara, amore mio,” you smile, giggles sneaking past your lips. “Those were just the lyrics to the song. So I’ll say it for real this time. I love you.”

He was... so enamored by you saying it the first time, but now everything makes sense. It hits him like a ton of bricks. Narancia wants nothing more than to sink into the earth, but settles for shoving his face into your pillow and screaming. This has got to be the most humiliating moment of his life. You find it endearing, reassuring him that this is a fitting first kiss from him.

That doesn’t make him feel better.

>Pannacotta Fugo;

“So, to repeat my previous point, you will need to find the value of x by using this process...”

Fugo, blessed be his soul, has appointed himself as your math tutor. While you’re immensely grateful for his efforts, it’s currently one in the morning. You’re fighting the urge to doze off, his velvety voice not making it any easier on you. The topic at hand has long since been forgotten, you think it may have had something to do with algebra. You watch him through lidded eyes, adoration bubbling up from within. He looks so serious, it’s precious. Every time he goes into a new explanation, you can tell that this is a subject he loves to talk about. You could listen to him speak for hours. Though it’d be preferable if it weren’t about math...

“[First]. You’re not listening, are you?” He inquires with a frustrated sigh, poking your cheek. At the interruption of your daydreaming, you lift your head up, straightening your posture. In a meager attempt to prove you were paying attention, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“W-what was that? Sorry, I didn’t catch the last part, something about capybaras right...” 

Fugo squints at you, lips pursing. He takes in a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. You’re lucky that he loves you. Anyone else would’ve had a fork or some other sharp object shoved into them by now. He fights off any bitter feelings, looking down and catching the time. The excitement of teaching you got the better of him, he didn’t even realize that it had gotten this late, no wonder you’re falling asleep.

He closes your college textbook, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s enough for tonight. You need to get to bed. Now.” 

You mistake his concern for your well being as anger for not paying attention. Fugo always has a difficult time getting the full extent of his feelings across, and he normally doesn’t have any motivation to try. You’re a different story. A reason to better himself, so that he might feel deserving of your love. Fugo’s eyes soften at your crestfallen form, scooting his chair next to yours.

“Hey,” he speaks up in a whisper, tipping his head down to look you in the eye. “You did good today, I’m proud. We’ll continue tomorrow, but you should rest now.” 

“Mm, alright. But first, you need to do me a favor,” you respond through a tired haze. In this sleep deprived state, you’re acting on impulse, your eyes fixated on Fugo’s lips. There’s a single goal at this point. “I want... I want kisses.” 

He’s never seen you this bold before. How tired are you...? He’ll need to ask Bucciarati to reduce your hours after this. For now, he’s flooded with tingling warmth. Fugo has long awaited this day, a day where he could get his feelings for you across. A silent prayer is said that you’ll remember this in the morning. Fugo nods once, pressing a quick peck to your lips. Then to your nose, and your forehead after that. You’ve already fallen asleep, a content smile on your lips. What should he do with you?

Sighing, he picks you up, careful not to wake you. “You’re so much trouble, [First].”

And he loves you for it.

>Leone Abbacchio;

“For once, just let me show you that I’m serious!”

It hurts. The corner of your eyes are stinging, your throat raw from screaming. Abbacchio stares down at you, his own chest heaving from putting up a verbal fight. You’re insufferably persistent in seeking him out. He’ll give you one thing, when you don’t want to back down, you give it your all. Not that he understands it.

Why won’t you just leave me alone already? It’s for your own good. What you see in him is a mystery, that he isn’t willing to entertain any longer. He hurts people. He has hurt too numerous to count, and doesn’t want to add the person he loves to the ranks. Should you hate him, then so be it; maybe then it’ll be easier for him to move on. When you’re staring up at him with fire burning in your eyes, it makes it all the more difficult to hold his ground. He has to, he tells himself. 

“Enough with this already. I’m done here.” He inhales sharply, wanting nothing more than to vanish from this convicting situation. A part of him knows that it’s wishful thinking, the part that knows you. And how stubborn you can be once there’s an idea in your mind. It’s what he both dreads and adores about you.

You rush to block his path of escape, borderline stomping on the way there. He’s taken aback by how bold you’re acting — you’re so certain of yourself. This is how you’ve always been. Abbacchio can’t help but feel jealous at this self-assured nature, how you know what needs to be done. Dammit, even when he’s trying to distance himself from you, his mind drifts elsewhere...

The two of you glare at one another, both parties refusing to back down. If Abbacchio is going to cower away from you, so be it; but not before he understands how much you care. That you’ve meant every word you said. That every action, the hand of compassion you’ve extended towards him, and the relationship built off of it means something to you. You hope it means the same amount to him.

Grabbing a hold of his collar, you jerk the fabric down towards you. He’s scowling, about to ask what the fuck you’re doing, when your faces are inches apart. He needs to move away. He needs to keep you at an arms length, like it’s supposed to be. Abbacchio knows this, and yet, he remains still as a statue.

In stark contrast to your rough actions, your lips meeting his is anything but. It’s driven by months of suppression. Time is at a standstill, neither of you knowing with confidence of what to do next. He doesn’t reciprocate or push you away, too absorbed with his self deprecating thoughts to act clearly. It’s only when you pull back, eyes glassy, that he comes to his senses. 

Was your hunch wrong? Does he really not...? 

Abbacchio’s body acts on his behalf. As he now leads the kiss, it’s far rougher, conveying all that he’s afraid to say. It’s imperfect, as all things are; but the start to a brighter future. You won him over in the end, as frustrating as it may be to admit. It’s a victory that he doesn’t mind. 

>Trish Una;

“I-I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful.”

Is this what it’s like to see a goddess in the flesh? Trish stands before you, wearing a stunning outfit unlike anything you’ve ever seen; a black as night dress that hugs against her curves. She’s completely dolled up, ethereal. Wearing winged eyeliner, crimson lip stick, highlighter complementing her cheekbones and blush dusting across her face. It’s mixing in with how flustered you’re making her with that doting stare, Trish having a difficult time maintaining eye contact.

She looks down to her stilettos, the distraction offering an opportunity to think. You’re the first person to ever look at her like this. To offer your full heart and adoration, with no agendas hidden beneath the surface. No, there’s nothing but unabashed care in you directed towards her. Rivaled only by Trish’s love for you.

“D-don’t get all cheesy on me now,” she stutters out, willing herself to return your gaze. Your smile is contagious, and she finds herself returning it. You’re wearing a formal getup as well, and she admires every detail of your outfit. It was one that she picked out for you a week prior, and as predicted, it suits you perfectly. “You look... good. Amazing, I mean.” 

Trish’s heart flutters at the laugh that leaves your lips. Every movement you make has this bewitching power over her, a spell that she doesn’t mind being under. If it’s for you, that is. 

Tonight is an important one -- her first live performance in front of a crowd. You’re nothing if not proud. The two of you have come far, overcoming tribulations that most would crumble under. It feels right. Earned. After the hell you endured together, to experience a shot at something new. Your support for her is what’s made it all possible. 

It won’t be long now until she’s called on stage. If anything, she should be in the greenroom by now, checking through the final touches for the performance. Knowing that you’ll be in the crowd, listening to her song is a motivator unlike any other. For now, though, all of that has been put to the side. It feels like the perfect time. 

Heels click against the ground as she approaches, taking your hands in her own. Swinging them back and forth, she struggles to find the proper words. “Tonight... tonight was only possible because of you. I wanted to tell you that.” 

“But you--”

A manicured finger is pressed against your lips, and she shushes you. 

“Let me finish,” she smiles, content at how you nod, a blush forming on your face. “There’s one thing missing that you need to fix. Give me a kiss for good luck, or I won’t forgive you.” 

You’ve never been happier to follow an order. Her lips are soft, feather light against your own. Some of her lipstick is bound to rub off -- not that either of you care -- and she wraps her arms around your neck. Knowing Trish, she’ll be upset should you mess up her hair. You settle on wrapping your arms around her waist, bringing her in closer. The taste of her lip primer is addicting, tasting faintly of bubblegum. 

Trish doesn’t let you pull back for air, too intent on drinking you in for as long as she can. 

[thesameasbe4]

Hunting the White Wolf

What Bucky might have been up to in Wakanda.

I hadn’t noticed the sun going down. And that didn’t happen often. Always, I was thinking about logistics, how to get places, could I do it before dark, how much would it cost to travel that far out of the town? It was good to see Sarah and her kids. They were growing up so fast and I was glad to see her husband was still around. It may have been my jaded expectations of so many men from this village, but I had not expected him to remain long. But Sarah is one of the smartest people I know, of course she chose well.

Besides catching up, we had also laid out a plan for a visit to a neighboring village. She kept calling it a favor to her, but I would have done it no matter what. That was my job, I trained local nurses in psycho-social recovery from war traumas. And there were folks in every village that needed this recovery. Wakanda’s strategic decision to open up to the world may have been a political win but the sacrifice was the wellness of their own people, a proud people unused to talking about their emotions. I hadn’t been in Wakanda long, having been transferred from my long-term position in Northern Zambia at the request of the UN. Wakanda seemed to have all of the resources it needed to provide in-country care, but I didn’t have much choice about the move, so I went.

This village I was to go to next was in the shadow of the capitol city and many of its locals had lost family or become paraplegic after the battle for the infinity stones. Much of Sarah’s family was from there and she knew how badly they were hurting.

…

The journey had not been as harrowing as many I had undertaken. I had taken a motorbike all the way there, but the roads got better, widened and paved smooth the closer we came to the capitol. A great big woman clad in a bright pink kitenge rushed over to my motorbike as we pulled into the stand. She helped me with my bags as I paid my driver. There was much hand shaking and hugging as I followed Mama Hassan down a footpath. In the next several hours I learned Mama was much like Sarah, or rather that Sarah was much like her aunt. She was smart as a whip and also very gentle. I ate well, doing my best to at least taste all the dishes she put in front of me while we spoke of those hurting. We discussed who to visit and I explained that my aid model was to offer guidance to local medical professionals or traditional healers on how to care for emotional trauma. This ensures that the knowledge empowers those who are already trusted and have a good sense of community already.

“And there is of course the White Wolf.” Mama said feigning indifference. I cocked my head to one side, pausing over the basin in which I was washing the dishes outside of her small mud brick home. That name sounded familiar, but I was not sure why.

“What is the White Wolf, Mama?” I asked.

“It is a who. He fought in the battle with our king and army. It is said that he has lived many lives, and many of those lives were spent killing.”

“He is Wakandan?”

“Oh no, he is like you, a Mzungu.” I nodded, smiling inside, people in this part of the world were not shy about noticing skin color, and I couldn’t blame them. For many, I was the only white skinned person they had e er seen.

“This Mzungu lives in the village?”

“Sometimes, he often goes off for many months, but he always returns, and he carries back with him this look of weariness. The children started calling him White Wolf,” she chuckled to herself. “They say it is because he is white and has hair on his face like a wolf, but when I look at him I see a hunger in his eyes that is really terrifying.”

…

We visited ten families the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. We listened to many many stories of loss and hardship. I did not hear a resounding pride for Wakanda, like their leadership was projecting to the outside, no I heard frustration that after remaining a protected and sacred place for so many years, Wakanda had the same stories of wartime that many of their poorer and poorly led neighbors experienced. And in all of this, I witnessed Mama Hassan soothe, cry with them, and love them all. These people didn’t need me, and I got the sense they tolerated me only because of Mama Hassan. And she was who they needed.

After a few weeks, this is what I told her, and she hesitantly agreed to become the trauma healer for her village. We worked side by side. We continued visiting together in the mornings, I would listen mostly, and we would return to her home in the afternoons and work in her crop fields and discuss the techniques she used and some other things she might try.

One evening, in the light of a coal fire, she spoke his name again. “It is time you visited him. I heard he returned last week.”

“Ok, sure, we can go tomorrow, unless his home is far, we may have to wait a few days.” Mama shook her head.

“No, I will not go with you. I have enough work here with my own people. As you say, healing must come from within a community. He lives in peace with us here, but his is not one of our own.”

“Are you saying that Mzungus must take care of one another?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“No Maggie, I am saying you are the professional, so I give you the difficult case and I will stick to what I know.” I chuckled, trying to shrug off the discomfort of her sudden seriousness.

“Okay Mama, I will go while you do the regular visits. How will I find him.”

“He is far, he has a hut on the bank of the lake. If you get lost, just ask the children, they all know where he stays.”

…

So I departed in the opposite direction of mama the next morning, hunting the White Wolf. This was beautiful land, and I hadn’t ventured in this direction often since arriving, so I relished the far reaching view of the green mountains. Few clouds were in the sky today and as the sun rose higher, I drew my kitenge up over my head hoping I wouldn’t burn badly. I also did this in areas where I hoped not to be so quickly identified as white. The closer I drew to the lake, the tighter I pulled my wrap, unsettled by what Mama had told me of this man, unsure of what I would find.

I could see a hut about half way around the lake, it stood alone, and from my distance, I saw no movement. I called to two small children playing on a rock close by and asked if they knew where White Wolf lived. They nodded wide eyed at me.

“Are you the wife of White Wolf Mama?” One of the children asked me.

I rolled my eyes a little while I dug in my bag for sweets. Handing each of them one, I shook my head, “No, I am a friend.” Well, I hoped he would receive me as a friend.

I slowed my pace as I drew closer, not wanting to surprise him or be caught off guard myself. But as I finally reached the hut, there was no one around. He was likely out making a living, or hunting, or at the market. I poked around as much as I dared, noticing a small stack of wood on one side of his hut as well as a clothes line strung from his roof to a pole a few meters away with a fluttering row of garments hanging there. I was surprised the homestead was so traditional, many of the Mzungus I knew sought walled in compounds with running water and electricity.

I wandered close to the lake and saw a three legged stool placed there. I wondered if he fished with a rod? Finally beginning to feel the long journey in my feet, I took a seat on the low stool, letting my bag fall next to me.

The sun drew higher and then began to lower again and my stomach rumbled. I pulled out a bottle of water and the chapati Mama had packed for me.

As I began to eat, three figures appeared around a corner out of the trees at the far end of the lake. One was tall and muscular and the other two were children who ran ahead and played with each other. All three were still in the shadow of the tree line and I could not make out their faces, but the man wore a blanket in the traditional way, tied around one shoulder so I thought it might be a hunter or farmer heading home for a meal.

Finally, the light fell on the man’s face and I swallowed. It was the White Wolf. I stood quickly, giving them long notice of my presence. Finally they reached me, the two children first. They ran over to me, unafraid and greeted me respectfully. I returned their greeting and then offered them the rest of my lunch, which they ate excitedly. Then I looked up, preparing myself to meet the White Wolf.

He stopped several feet from me, favoring his right side slightly. But he was not frightening, in fact his presence was calm, yes it was a concentrated, intense calm, but fierceness was not the same thing as dangerous. Wanting to show my good will, I removed the kitenge that had been covering my head and torso. I nodded at him, “You are the one they call the White Wolf?” His brow furrowed and I wondered if I had misspoken.

“Who is seeking the White Wolf?” He made a half circle around me, placing his body between me and his home.

“The people here call me Maggie, at home they call me Margaret.” There is silence between us still so I continue, “I seek the White Wolf in good faith. I am living with Mama Hassan in the village.”

His face did not change, but he stepped closer, “The people here call me the White Wolf.” He sighed as he glanced toward something behind me. “You have lost my helpers.”

I turned around to see that the two boys had discovered the sweets I had packed for the children and were already busy shoving them all in their mouths. “Oh dear,” I laughed.

“Their mother is not going to be happy with me,” he muttered. “I hope you came ready to work.” He held up a cord that was tied to his waist on which two wild birds, each about the size of a chicken, dangled. The man definitely didn’t speak very much.

I shrugged at him. “Shall I pluck them or start the fire?” I asked gamely.

It was strange to work side by side with this mysterious person, each of us foreigners in this place, yet even more foreign to each other without it. We prepared food from Wakanda, I brought rice and sugar as is traditional in Wakanda when visiting. Some of what we spoke was even in the language of these people.

I had finished washing the rice and handed the pot to him to place on the fire. I noticed he reached across with his right arm, odd since he had to put down a knife to take it from me. I watched him closer for a few minutes, my eyes finally clearing when I realized he only had one arm. I had assumed his left arm was obscured by the tribal blanked that he wore, not that it was concealing a lost limb.

The two boys ran by me and the Wolf spoke loudly to them in their own language to play somewhere else, that the fire would burn them and their mother would be very upset.

“Are they your boys?” I asked.

“They wouldn’t be so dark if they were mine,” he said.

“I know, but their mother, is she-”

“She is my neighbor,” he gestured to the direction they had come from earlier, where a small collection of huts stood. “When I was first placed here they would dare each other to see who would come the closest. Finally, one of them came close enough for me to offer him breakfast and now it seems like they never leave. And their mother is kind, she helped me learn how to live here.”

He set the rice on the coal stove and sat back on another short three footed stool. “So you like it here?” I asked.

“I like that it is simple.”

When the food was ready I called the boys to come eat, though they were already fairly full from the sweets. I took a bite from on e of the boys plates, putting the rice and meat into my mouth with my fingers in the traditional way, trying to entice the child to eat.

After the meal that was mostly eaten by me and my mysterious host, the Wolf sent the boys away to play. “So what is it you came for, Maggie, certainly not my cooking.” I noticed he had drawn a veil over his eyes again, he stood emotionless. So I rose to meet him as best I could.

“I am seeking to help my neighbor.”

“How?” He growled, for the first time showing a glint of feralness.

“Perhaps I should say that you are helping me, you see I am working with Mama Hassan on healing the spirit of this village after the battle. You know well how different it is now.” I paused, waiting for a glint of recognition in his eyes but they hardened further.

“I do not want your healing.”

“You misunderstand.” My mind raced for words that would set him at ease. “It’s only that these people don’t need me, they don’t want to talk to me, and why should they. They need people like Mama Hassan to listen and comfort them, not Wazungu.”

“So what do you want from me?”

I thought for a second, “Company, companionship.”

He laughed bitterly. “No.”

“You are an outsider. You see these people differently than they see each other. You can help them heal.” He had turned his back to me and gazed out at the water and I watched as a dry breeze that swept at his shoulder length hair, pulling it into is face. Feeling a bit like we were in uncharted waters, I continued, “You know deeply what it means to be wounded by violence, I know that you see it in these people.”

He spoke no words, though in his silence I heard him ask, “What would you need from me?”

“Let me work along side you, tell me things about the people around us, the things you know are below the surface.”

He dug his heel into the ground. “I’m a soldier, I don’t think deeply, I follow orders.”

“That’s not-“ he held up a hand to silence me.

“No,” he said again and retreated to his hut. I gathered my things and made the long journey back.

…

I recounted my odd exchange to Mama. “You cannot give up on that man, he is too much alone with himself.”

“So what do you think I should do now? He has already said no,” I asked, short of threatening him, I didn’t think he wanted to see me around anymore.

“I know the family he works for, the Mama is raising eight children on her own. She says the White Wolf scared her very much at first, though I don’t think she had ever seen a Mzungu before, but anyway, she said that he shows up every morning and works in her field and then goes home for his lunch then returns in the afternoon and tends her sheep. He doesn’t speak but to ask questions about work. She says he can speak well in our language, and two of her boys love him and follow him every where he goes.”

I smiled, “I met them,” and I can’t imagine someone who is a threat would put up with those two.”

“There, you see, his is trying to heal with what he knows, you cannot abandon him even if he doesn’t know its for his own good.”

So I went.

The next day I began my walk in the pre dawn. When I reached the lake, the sun was just coming up and I walked just in the tree line, keeping my distance from the Wolf’s homestead. I arrived as the family was eating breakfast. The two boys from the day before were sat on mats on the ground eating out of communal bowls with their younger siblings. But they called out to me when I stepped into their line of sight. A gaunt, slender woman stood over a hot fire, stirring at a large pot. I made my introductions and my greetings from Mama Hassan and that I was here to work with the White Wolf. Nodding, she motioned up the hill to where her rows of maize began. Half way into this plot was the one armed figure I was here for, the wind tangling in his hair. I shouldered the hoe Mama had lent me and I stepped toward him, hoping I would make it back down the mountain alive at the end of the day.

We worked silently. I stopped every once in a while to take a draw from my bottle of water, but the Wolf didn’t stop. He had maintained a calm exterior though a muscle in his jaw worked all morning. As the sun warmed us, I approached, offering him my bottle of water, though it felt more like a white flag. He glanced up but did not stop. So I lowered my gift and retreated to my side of the field and carried on.

For many days we continued in this way. We would work around one another, never speaking, never interfering. At mid day I would speak with Mama and then begin my journey home to work with Mama Hassan. The days languished and it seemed nothing would change, but Mama said to keep steady, that nothing moved quickly in Wakanda but war. So every day I would go, tiptoeing around the restrained force I sensed bubbling within the White Wolf.

…

I awoke to a persistent shaking of my shoulder one morning. Well, it would be many hours before the sun would rise, I sat up in my pallet on the floor, searching for Mama, feeling the tension in me grow as I realized the presence of several bodies in the room. “Mama,” I called, steeling myself for her distress.

“I am here Maggie, do not worry,” she replied touching my shoulder again. “These people are from the capital.” I rose to my feet and someone flicked on a portable light.

“How can I help?” I asked, the light had exposed the concern on the faces of two visitors.

A young woman spoke up. “You have been working with the The White Wolf?”

I nodded slowly, “Something like that, it is very slow going.”

“Well we need your consult.”

“What has happened to him?” I asked.

“Ma’am, we do not have time to talk, I shall explain on the way.” With that, I was ushered out of Mama’s cottage and into some kind of transporter that hovered over the rocky ground.

Apparently they had been developing an arm for the white wolf to replace an old one he used to have that was part of his time as a brainwashed agent. He had been going up to the capitol most evenings to complete testes to further the process of this new arm. They had just attached it when he seemed to go into some kind of trance. The techs believed that their systems may have been hacked and when they introduce the arm, they reintroduced his programming.

I frowned, “Why do you need me?”

“We have found no breaches in cyber security. So the next logical thing is that it is post traumatic reaction.”

I responded with an interested “hm.”

I was forever fascinated by the duality of Wankadan technological sophistication and how it was valued along side the natural resources of the countryside. I was whisked into a great building on an electromagnetic train to a quiet lab. I peered through the two way glass at the figure of a restrained man. He was still, but tense. I knew it was the Wolf when I felt the rage rolling off of him.

“How long has he been restrained like this?” I asked.

“For several hours ma’am, we started by trying to remove the arm when he became agitated but he would not let us get close enough. This was the best we could do.”

“I would like to go in alone.” After quiet consultation amongst themselves, the guard around me consented, reminding me they would be just on the other side of the door if anything went awry.

So I stepped in. “Hello,” I said cheerfully, “I hear you have had a difficult couple of hours.” I made as much noise with my feet as I could till I was in his line of vision. “I am here just to talk with you,” I continued, searching for recognition in his eyes, though I saw nothing but cold anger. Maintaining a distance, I said, “would you tell me your name?” Silence.

I had become fascinated by this work through witnessing the work of traditional storytellers. I used to watch them weave together stories of great struggle and relieve the stress of violence through recounting not just the harm done to their own people but how they recovered in body and soul. I figured if this storytelling could work for centuries, why would it not work here. So I told him his own story, I told him of a young man that sought to serve his country and did, saving many lives. Yet in saving these lives he was captured and forced to turn against those he had been devoted to saving. I talked about how deeply they had reached inside of this man, and how he had forgotten the person he had been before, how he had forgotten about the good he had done. I could feel the tension and anger as his steely rage pressed against his restraints.

So I took a deep breath and stepped closer, my eyes searching for his and when he glared at me I refused to look away. And I told him of how even though he had forgotten, others did not. That they had gotten him away finally from the clutches of the evil men and that the young, bright hero was still there, even after all of that time.

“What is your name?” I asked him taking yet another step closer.

After a long silence, he spoke, “I am the Winter Soldier.”

I was so close now I could touch him, “no, what is your name?” I reached my hand out and rested it on his forehead. I gently swept the hair out of his face, maintaining my composure as I made contact with his hot skin.

“My name is Maggie, and we have been working together on a farm. You have made friends with two little boys who love to hang around you. What is your name?”

“I- I am the White Wolf,” he stammered, the humanity beginning to return to his tone. I pressed on.

“Many people call you that here, but that is not your name. What is you name Sergeant?” I asked gently, my hands moving from his face to his shoulders, one hot flesh the other cold metal.

“My name is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes,” he said finally, “but you can call me Bucky.” I smiled and stepped away.

“Welcome back Bucky, we missed you.” As Bucky began to notice his surroundings the recognition of what must have happened registered in his eyes and he sighed, looking toward the window where he knew people were observing him from.

“I am so sorry.” Then he looked at me. “How did you get here?”

“I heard you might need a friend, but the boys were still asleep, so I had to come instead.” I winked at him. And a corner of his mouth turned upward in a very charming way.

…

The next few weeks were slow but I sensed that the first night in the capitol had been a breakthrough for him. I stayed on and helped to observe his progress. Most of his episodes now took the form of dreams. They had been apprehensive about letting him sleep in private, converting the lab to a bedroom instead where he could be observed. After much discussion and advocacy on my part I persuaded them to move him to a suite with two rooms. He would stay in one and a doctor or carer could stay in the other, with guards waiting outside if desired. Bucky seemed okay with this transition so we moved ahead with the plan.

I returned to my quarters a while later only to find guards hauling my things out, worried I had done something wrong I rushed over to find out what was being done. “We were instructed to move your things to the experimental suite with Sergeant Barnes, Ma’am,” the guard replied.

With more questions now, I followed the guards hauling my few belongings down a series of halls. I met the doctors I had been working with outside of the suite they had been outfitting for Sergeant Barnes. After the appropriate greetings were made, I jumped right in, “So whats this about my things being moved?”

“Well, ma’am,” one of the doctors began, “as you have suggested we are trying to make this arrangement as comfortable for sergeant Barnes as we can. Since we will not be surveilling him in these quarters we decided we needed someone to be with him at all hours. We thought you fit the bill.”

“Hmm, I see.” I stammered, “Im sorry but I still don’t understand.”

The doctor looked at me with sympathy. “Well, for several reasons, putting someone else in there is a good will gesture, hopefully the Sergeant will believe us when we tell him we aren’t surveilling him if there is another way of monitoring him that he can see. Furthermore, you have had the most breakthroughs with him, he seems comfortable with your presence and therefore you are the best option for him to establish healthy rest patterns. And none of our people were especially keen to do it.”

Well that was quite an explanation. All I could do was repeat myself, “I see.”

…

I had grown used to living in close quarters with people I didn’t know that well since my stay in Central Africa. People liked to live simply, spending most of their time outdoors and retiring in the evenings to small shelters. But this felt different. The space I shared with Bucky was spacious and much grander than either of us was comfortable with. We each had our own suite with a living space separating them. We were both happy to be out of there during the day. I would return to the village several days a week and continue to work with Mama Hassan and even make a few rounds with her. Those were the times that felt most normal. I would return and receive reports from the doctors and scientists working with Bucky.

He also looked worn out by the end of each day, I was not comfortable with the poking and prodding they did to him, but when I asked him, he was insistent that he trusted them and that he had to develop patience and endurance of mind if he was going to be able to function in the world again.

I supposed he was used to these ultra clean, militarized spaces, but I had first met him as the White Wolf, clad in herder blankets and tanned from the African sun. When I looked at him now, it was as if he had lost his wolf.

I awoke before my alarm one morning, the sun not yet up. I tossed around a bit but soon gave up on the thought of returning to sleep. Pulling on a pair of sweat pants and an undershirt, I shuffled into the living room. I prepared some coffee and was humming to myself. I turned to grab a mug from the cabinet and froze, noticing for the first time the outline of a figure looking out of the great window on the other side of the room. From my distance he looked like a statue, solid, firm, immortal. Cautiously I moved closer.

He was clad in sweat pants similar to the ones I was wearing, but he had no shirt. His metal arm glowed in the soft light beginning to peak above the mountains. I stopped a few feet from him and we watched the sun come up together.

“They say Wakanda has the best sunrises,” Bucky said, breaking our silence, “I have seen a lot of sunrises.” He raised his flesh hand and laid it on the window, like he was trying to touch the sky as it burned gold, and red, and purple. “The sunrises are also beautiful in Siberia. The difference is, you wait and you wait and finally, the sun rises and you are so relieved that it has risen that however it looks, it is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Here, the sun will rise every day, and yet every day, it is the most beautiful thing.”

“I think you were a poet in another life Sergeant,” I said. He glanced over at me then looked down with an embarrassed smile.

…

That afternoon the reports showed some regression in his responsiveness. I suggested that it may just be fatigue, that before they reattached his arm he did well living in the village, perhaps a return to that environment would encourage him. They were not yet ready to release him, even for a few hours, among civilians, but they consented to a few days of rest.

I delivered this news to him that evening. He nodded and retired to his quarters like he always did. I knew he didn’t often show emotion, but I thought he would be happier, or relieved, or something. I made myself dinner, and continued to think it over, had I overstepped?

Having worked myself into an anxious tizzy, I rose and walked to his quarters, knocking gingerly on the door. I waited a few moments and he did not answer. I knocked again and the door opened quickly, startling me, as did the figure on the other side.

“Ma’am,” said Bucky, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair still dripping from the shower.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I am disturbing you, I-“

“No it’s fine, hold on.” He closed the door and a few seconds later opened it again, he was now clad in his sweatpants and was pulling a black t shirt over his head. “What’s the problem?”

“Oh, um, no problem, I just wanted to check with you about the next couple of days. It is difficult for me to tell what you are thinking and I hope I didn’t make a call that you are uncomfortable with.”

He shifted his weight so that his metal arm leaned against the door frame above us. “I don’t do well with being idle. That’s all.”

I nodded, “So then I guess we will have to keep ourselves occupied for the next few days.”

His eyes clouded for a moment, “I have to stay here then?” He asked, sounding let down.

I wiped the smile off my face, realizing his frustration, despite how gamely he was taking all of these regulations and precautions. “Im afraid so, but I promise, it will be a break, we will find ways for this to be easy going and un-stressful.”

He nodded, “After all the time I spent avoiding you, I now have to find a way to be with you non stop for two days.” The words caught me by surprise. I had by no means forgotten our early interactions in the village, but our situations had changed. I opened my mouth to speak but I caught his eye and there, in his icy blue stare, was the Wolf again. And I was the one locked in his gaze. I backed away, realizing how big this man really was and how much damage he could do before help came, end even after it came.

“S-sergeant,” I stammered as he moved to close the space between us, but I kept backing up till the back of my legs ran into some piece of furniture. “Sergeant Barnes, tell me, what is it that unsettles you? What am I doing?” He stopped mere inches from me.

“I can deal with the Wakandans, I’m in their home, they keep me here for the sake of their own people. They seek my rehabilitation because of their King. You? I know nothing about you. You insert yourself here, you know more, you have more success, you become indispensable. I’ve dealt with your kind before, you think I don’t know what an invader looks like, the tactics of kindness?” He was leaning over me now, his hands gripping my arms. These last words he whispered into my ear. I had seen many things in my career, but I had not anticipated this.

“I- I’m not indispensable, and if this is success it doesn’t feel like it,” I sob, all pretense of composure gone. He had shaken something loose in me that I hadn’t known was there. “You think we are so different?” I paused, more sobs racking my frame. “Everywhere I go, every country, every situation, there is distress, and it’s my job to discover it, to dig it out of the rubble and ashes of long since faded tragedy. I bring the possibility of healing but only after a journey of pain and sadness.” I gasp a few times, taking in deep gulps of air. “Bucky,” his grip has loosened and I feel dizzy so I raise my hands to his chest to steady myself as he meets my eyes.

Embarrassed by my loss of composure, I step away from him, scrubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Um,” I clear my throat and bravely look up just above his hairline, avoiding his eyes, “I apologize Sergeant, that was very unprofessional of me. I must insist that we continue this conversation tomorrow, I need some time to collect myself.” I turn away from him, striding quickly to my door but I feel a hand close around my arm and I stop again, feeling exactly like the fake he had just called me. All I wanted was to be back in the village with Sarah, with people who know me, where I felt safe.

I could feel him trying to get my attention but I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t look at him, nor could I leave, so I sank to the ground, wrapping my arms around my knees and hiding my face, more tears blurred my eyes. And then I hear shuffling behind me and something sturdy leans against my back. Slowly I calm myself, allowing my muscles to loosen slightly, my back to straighten, and my vision to clear. As I look around me I see that I am seated in front of the great window. I peer at my reflection, blinking a few times as I realize what the pressure is at my back, Bucky has sat down behind me, leaning his broad back against my own.

Neither of us speaks as we stay there, staring out into the darkness of night.

…

I blink in the morning light, disoriented at first as I remember the events of the night before. I couldn’t remember going to bed, I wondered how I got here. Even more curious was the smell coming from the kitchen. Tentatively, I crept out of bed and cracked the door to my suite, breathing deeply the smell of bacon. It had been a long time since I had eaten food from America. Where did it come from? I hadn’t ordered anything and the Sergeant usually ate special nutrient rich food prepared for him.

But drawing closer, I saw he was there over the stove, also still in his clothes from the night before. I kept my distance, my hand not straying far from my door knob. The tension of the night before seemed to have dissipated, but I had been working with PTS too long to trust that feeling.

“Good Morning,” Bucky called to me as he turned off the burners and dished up two plates of eggs, bacon and toast. He placed them across from each other at the table, then walked towards me. He looked tensely at the floor for a moment before he spoke, “Food from home always helps with my bad days, I thought you might like a little reminder of your home this morning.” He gave me one of those rare lopsided smiles. Then not waiting for me, he returned to the table, letting me make my own way there if I wanted.

I followed at a distance, finally taking a seat after he had settled in. He was a very good cook.

The food was good, the conversation not so much. I still felt tense and was worried about our argument the night before.

I had cleared my schedule for the next two days so that I could be present for the Sergeants two days off. I thought it might be nice to stay in for a weekend, but now I was petrified of rattling around this space with him.

After breakfast I pulled out my laptop, deciding that if this wasn’t going to be relaxing I could at least get some work done. This particular soldier came with a lot of paper work so I retrieved my laptop and settled in on the couch. It wasn’t long before some slow jazz began to float out of the speakers. I looked up and Bucky was walking toward me. “Maggie, would you dance with me?” Confused, I closed my computer and stood, taking the hand he offered me.

He drew me into his chest, his metal hand holding mine and his other hand on my lower back. “It turns out that I haven’t done much apologizing in the last fifty years,” he said quietly, his words vibrating his chest. “So now is as good a time as any,” he persisted, stepping away from me for a moment. “I was out of line last night, I’m sorry.”

I sighed, “Unfortunately, you must not have been, I think you hit a nerve, I usually have thicker skin than that, and I knew you were agitated, thats why I pushed.” He shook his head.

“That is not an excuse for my actions, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that despite how scared you were, you didn’t call for the guards.”

I could think of nothing to say, so we just moved together, swaying with the whims of the horn in the background.

…

The first day was quiet, we each kept to ourselves, Bucky doing some exercises in one corner while I continued my work. In the early evening my stomach rumbled and I swear the super soldier must have heard it because not a minute later he came over and asked if he should cook dinner. I suggested I might since he had cooked earlier, and he countered that we should do it together.

Rattling around in a kitchen with a huge man was not something I was used to and this particular man took up a lot of space. Many times he reached over me to grab things out of the high cabinets, his torso brushing my back ever so slightly, the clean scent of him cutting through the smells of the food cooking.

Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore and I suggested we watch a movie while we ate and Bucky agreed. So I readied the screen as Bucky finished up in the kitchen. He joined me on the couch a few minutes later. I had no idea what kind of films he would like but was surprised when he continued to point out the horror movies.

“Um, are you sure? They are pretty intense, I don’t want you to be set off by something in one of them,” I said hoping that wouldn’t offend him.

“Oh, are they?” He asked, “they are so bad, they get everything wrong.”

“I see,” I reply. Sighing, I decide they must not make much of an impression on him so I made my plate and sat on the side of the couch as far away as I could. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I kept getting this feeling when he was close to me. I couldn’t place it, and while I was too scientific to always go by my instinct, I had done this job too long to ignore it.

I lost my appetite a few minutes into the movie, distracted by the suspense on screen. At the first jump scare, I did just that, flinching and letting out an “oh.” Bucky tilted his head towards me and cocked an eyebrow. Was he laughing? I rose and gathered our dishes, trying to collect myself before returning to the film.

“Hey, we don’t have to watch this if it’s scaring you,” Bucky called over to me pausing the screen.

“No its okay, thats the point right?” I said as I returned to my seat on the couch. The light was fading outside and the room grew darker. At the next scene I reached out searching for something to hold on to in my frightened panic. The closest thing was Bucky’s metal arm. Realizing I may have really invaded his space I released it quickly, apologizing. To my surprise he rose and moved to the other side of me, offering up his other arm. Touched by the gesture I wound my hand around his arm, very conscious of the rippled muscles that moved under his skin.

The sound system was top notch and effectively immersed us in the scenes. Bucky loved it, but I was at my wits end, and by the time the credits rolled I was practically sitting in Bucky’s lap, my head pushed into his chest, avoiding the images on the screen. “Hey,” he said, gently placing his metal arm on my back, laughing again, “Its over you can look up.”

“Turn the lights on first,” I mumbled into his shirt. So he shifted my weight back onto the couch and rose to find the light switch. Once the room brightened I uncurled, looking around me nervously. “Great, now I’m going to be sneaking around every mirror and window till I can forget I ever saw this movie.

“You could have told me you were such a light weight,” he said shaking his head in mock shame.

“Well, its your vacation. I figured you deserved to pick your own damned movie. But don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again,” I said. I glanced at my phone, it was barely eight, too early to make my excuses and go to bed. So now what?

“Well then,” Bucky said as he stretched up to a high cabinet in the kitchen, “Since I stressed you out with my movie choice, I guess it’s my job to relax you again,” he said, holding up a bottle of red wine. Too emotionally drained to object, I moved closer.

“Fine, but officially this didn’t happen.” He winked at me as he uncorked the bottle.

…

We had just emptied the first bottle and I was feeling good, having throughly forgotten the terrors of Hollywood proportions that had so disturbed me an hour ago. “You want to dance again?” I asked, feeling looser and a little flushed. “I doubt two glasses of this has helped my moves, but I know it feels like it has,” I gave Bucky a winky smile. He had put the slow jazz back on and the bawdy rhythms made me antsy.

He came closer to me and held out his hand. “Dancing to jazz is still the most transgressive act a person and do,” he said as he pulled me into a turn. I smiled at this.

“I think you are showing your age a bit grandpa,” I replied.

“Nonsense, I’m as timeless as this music.” I looked up at him intending to say something smart but stopped, transfixed by his intense grey blue eyes. They were kind, and deep, and loving. I couldn’t fathom how a man with such kindness in him could have been such a killing machine. And that was it, he couldn’t be both. That was his burden and what got him out in the end, the kindness in those eyes.

I placed my hands on the sides of his face, running my fingers in the scruff on his cheeks. His arms brought me closer till we were pressed against each other. Letting my fingers run through his dark hair, I pulled him down to my eye level. I wanted to let him know I understood, that I saw the great effort and care and loss he has endured. But I couldn’t do that. So instead I brought my lips up, gently pressing them to his forehead.

Instead of releasing me, he stayed close to me, our breath mingling until I felt soft hesitant lips tenderly brush against mine. I felt lit up on the inside, I reached up for more but he pulled away. “You have had a couple drinks, this can wait till morning.”

He ushered me to my bedroom door, making sure I made it there all right, but he stopped there, the ex assassin held back by the flimsy boundary that was my door frame.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I- I just don’t want to be alone in this big space.”

“You know for a woman who travels the world seeking out war zones, theres a lot of things that scare you.”

I smiled tiredly, “I know, thats why I’m good at it.” Turning from him I flopped on my bed, getting comfortable, and waiting for him to make the next move. I heard rustling at the foot of my bed and then the mattress dipped behind me and the warm bare skin of the White Wolf settled at my back. I curled my legs up and guided his hand to rest just below my bottom. He nestled into the back of me, his scratchy cheeks resting on the bare skin of my neck.

…

I awoke to movement under me. Disoriented for the second night in a row I opened my eyes, remaining still as I waited to see what the rustling was. My eyes widened as the thing beneath me grunted in a low voice and circled my back with his metal arm. I recalled the strange events of the night before and balked at all the possible consequences of my actions. But then Bucky shifted again and I became aware of how big he really was. His barrel chest was broad and slightly damp with sweat, and he gripped me to him with real intensity, even in his sleep, and I couldn’t help but think all the possible HR issues would be worth this sweet moment.

“Are you also pretending to still be asleep?” A scratchy voice vibrated in my ear. Bucky peered up at me with one eye open, the other still closed.

I laughed a little, “not exactly, I think I’m paying a heavier toll than you for our night cap.”

“Yea I can’t get drunk.”

“Well fuck,” I replied, “thanks for the warning. I’m not going to worry about keeping up with you anymore then.” He laughed and squeezed my middle as I propped myself up to look at him, an elbow on either side of his chest.

His eyes were the same as they were last night, the wine hadn’t lied to me. In the cloudy morning light they almost seemed to glow.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, bringing his hand up to my face and running his thumb over my eyebrow and down to my ear. I looked down, uncomfortable with the compliment. I had been living a life of simplicity and necessity here. My hair was shorn, my face and arms tanned darker than the rest of me, I hadn’t worn makeup in several years. I was not particularly self effacing, I didn’t think I was ugly nor did I struggle with self loathing, I just hadn’t realized how apart from my physical body I had become. I chewed on my lip as I looked at Bucky.

“Thanks,” I said. Then I rolled off of him, sliding to the edge of the bed and sitting up. The sky was heavy with dark clouds and I could already hear the thunder rumbling from the far side of the mountain. Bucky sat up and scooted next to me.

“Well I won’t miss getting caught in heavy rains this season,” he said and I chuckled and nodded in agreement.

…

I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to avoid Bucky on this second day of rest. Besides being stuck in the same space with him, the torrential rain and deafening thunder made me want to do nothing more than cuddle up with one particular heat producing ex-assassin. I compromised and settled into the couch with a cup of coffee and a book instead.

Behind me I could almost hear the pattern of Bucky’s feet wearing into the floor so intense was his pacing. A few times I managed to catch onto the plot of my book and let it absorb me, but I was drawn out of it again and again by the little sounds he would make, a cough, a loud sniff, a squeak of his shoe. Finally I shut my book and pinched the skin between my eyes, trying to keep my composure.

“Bucky,” I said in a measured tone, “is there something on your mind?”

The pacing stopped. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” I began, “you are acting a little bit like a lion in a cage.”

“Oh, sorry, I just- I guess I’m not used to having all of these hours to myself. I feel like I’m rattling around in here.” I stood, casting off the layers I had been nesting in.

“Well, is there something we can do together? You have missed a lot while you were… you know,” I paused uncomfortably, but he said noting so I soldiered on. “There are movies, books, games, that are incredibly important to the social world that you should become aware of.”

“Just not horror movies?” He asked with a hint of a crooked smile on his face. “Yea, maybe save those for some of your super friends, I don’t have the strength for them.” I felt my face grow hot as I recalled the intimacy of the previous evening and how I would gladly do it again. “Well, what are you reading?” He asked, calling my attention back to the present.

“Ah, a decidedly not hip novel,” I said waving the book in his direction, “it’s Thomas Hardy.”

“Well I was never much of a reader in my younger years,” he said taking the book from me and flipping through the first few pages. “Read it to me?”

So there we were again, piled onto a couch that was way too small to offer us adequate distance apart. I leaned my back against one arm with my legs pulled up, perhaps I thought they would serve as an extra barrier between the two of us. Bucky sat on the other end and nodded at me to begin, so I did.

I loved reading, and Bucky was an attentive listener, he would interrupt every so often to ask a question and we would discuss together what we thought the imagery might mean or what a particular character trait indicated about the plot. I hadn’t noticed that we moved closer together or that I had stuck my feet under his leg when they got cold, or when he pulled them on his lap.

I had been reading for so long that I was beginning to lose my voice. Looking up I was going to suggest we break for dinner when I was startled by the same intense gaze he had given me the night before. “Maggie,” he said, “I want you to know that I hold you in the greatest professional regard. I think you do incredible work and are an excellent leader.”

“Uh, thanks?” I replied.

“I need you to hear this from me now because I don’t want you to question it later.” He said cryptically.

“What is happening later?” And like I weighed nothing he pulled me into his lap.

“Well,” he murmured into my ear, his muscular arms pulling me into his chest, “if you are okay with it, maybe more of this?”

He sounded so nervous, like a teenage boy even, not the capable and controlled man I was coming to respect greatly. Moved by his vulnerability I sat up straighter, pulling his face into my neck, feeling like I wanted to cover him completely with my body. His lips pressed against the hollow below my neck and I sighed, enjoying the contrast of soft lips and his scratchy beard. I pulled my hands through his hair listening to him growl deeply. The wolf contented for the moment.

I shifted my weight so that I was straddling his lap, a knee on either side of him. His hands began to explore under my shirt as I lowered my head to kiss him. He was intoxicating and maddening, insisting on doing everything slow. Sensing my frustration he spoke, “You have no idea how long it’s been since I have held a woman, and I’v never held a woman like you. So I have to take it all in.” But he flipped us in the same breath so that he was laying above me, his solid weight a comforting pressure and I needed him closer. We pulled layers off of one another till we were in our underwear. It was at this crucial moment that I felt him stop, his movements becoming stiff and tentative again.

“Bucky?” I asked, he sat up, scooting out from under me he sat with his arms against his knees. I felt a wall thicken between us again and I knew I had to get through to him or we would lose this connection. So gently, slowly I reached out to the closest part of him, his metal arm. I ran a finger from his shoulder to his wrist. He didn’t react, so I scooted till my leg was up against his.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I just don’t think I’m ready for- for that yet.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I never would have guessed this solid, quiet man would be so honest and sweet. I reached my hand up to the back of his neck and let my fingers tangle in his hair. “Hey, thats okay,” I turned his head so that he had to look at me, “Really. What I want from you is whatever you have to offer.” I looked around the room at the grand space around us, “Bucky all of this is about helping you offer more to the world. Don’t wast your time with what you think you should be doing, do what you can, because you are different than any other man, any other person I have ever met.”

…

I was up before the dawn again, yawning I gathered what I would need in my small bag and headed up the mountain towards the lake. The walk seemed shorter each time I took it, and I arrived at the edge of the water just as the sun was peaking up, casting gold light into the reflective water.

“Came for the view?” I turned and smiled at the figure that was lumbering toward me. He looked at ease here, his shuka wrapped tightly around him.

“Well if it isn’t the White Wolf,” I said welcoming his embrace. He stood behind me, his strong figure leaning comfortably on me, his arms wrapped around me.

“Just call me Bucky,” he said into my ear before planting a kiss on my cheek.

[earthfluuke]

i would like to start this off by apologizing to anyone who happens to read this. this is, by far, the dumbest thing i’ve ever written. it’s cute, but so, so, so dumb. like, there is no need for this to exist.

BUT. i’ve been playing animal crossing for a while now, and my friends and i were discussing which bl boys would play it. and i said tine. i mean, with all that customization? he’d definitely take the opportunity to make everything cute.

again. THIS SHOULD NOT EXIST. but here we are. i hope you all enjoy it.

a few notes:

one - this is raymond. yes, everyone loves him. yes, people are selling him for hundreds of dollars online. i’m not making this up.

two - you wish on stars in this game, and the next day, there will be star fragments on the ground. you can use these to make a special wand that lets you switch between different outfits you have. naturally, tine had to have that.

three - my friend, kaleb, dressed his animal crossing character up as tine in sarawat’s football jersey, so i had to include that.

Nuzzling up to Tine right before bed after a grueling schedule of school, music club, football practice, and running away from hordes of girls he’ll never spare more than a glance is Sarawat’s favorite part of the day. But lately, he’s felt like he needs to change the is to past tense.

Ever since Tine got that god forsaken game, he had been ditching their cuddle sessions. Sarawat has tried burrowing into his side, giving him little kisses, anything to get Tine’s attention. But it’s always met with rejection.

“In a minute,” Tine says, curled on his side, facing away from Sarawat as he swirls the joystick under his thumb to move his character around the screen. “This fish is huge. It’ll get me tons of money for sure.”

That minute never comes. Sarawat subjects himself to wrapping around Tine’s back and hugging him close. It’s nice, but not as nice as it could be.

This has been going on for weeks now, and he’s had just about enough. It’s time to amend the situation.

…

Tine blinks at the spread of cardboard, plastic, and paper on the floor next to the couch before he turns his gaze to his boyfriend for an explanation. Too caught up in whatever he’s reading, Tine goes to investigate for himself.

What he finds is a game console with similar red and blue end pieces to his own. To the right is a video game box, decorated with all too familiar, colorfully animated characters.

“What’s all this?” he asks, because he’s genuinely taken aback. If he remembers correctly, Sarawat had shaken his head and scoffed at him when he was in this same situation only a few weeks ago. From that reaction, video games clearly didn’t seem to be his thing, especially when that video game was Animal Crossing. Or so he had thought at least.

“If you’re going to spend all of your time playing this game,” Sarawat says, nudging his chin in the direction of the box without looking up from the directions he’s reading, “then I’ll just have to join you. Now, can you help me set this up? Because I’ve been trying for the past thirty minutes, and I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. They all just keep…squeaking at me. Why do they sound like that?”

Breaking into a smile, Tine sits beside him and takes the console from the coffee table. Leave it to Sarawat to take the phrase ‘go big or go home’ literally. But he won’t complain; it will be fun to play with him.

…

It is not fun playing with Sarawat. At least not yet.

While Tine had been imagining all the cute, virtual dates they could go on, he had failed to remember that Sarawat didn’t know how the very basics of this game worked. Teaching them to him has proven to be difficult.

“I don’t get it,” Sarawat says with a little huff, dropping his console onto his lap. “I line myself up with the fish, but I can never catch one. They swim away from me every time I pull my rod up.”

Leaning over to watch him, Tine giggles softly. “You have to wait for them to bite. See?” Holding his own Switch towards him, he drops his fishing rod into the ocean, waits for the fish to grab hold, and then quickly pulls out of the water. “See? It’s easy. You try.”

Sarawat copies him, and Tine can feel him holding his breath as he waits for the fish to grab onto his line. When it finally does, he practically slams down on the A button. His character presents a pretty standard fish, but it’s still an accomplishment.

He presses a kiss to Sarawat’s cheek and pulls back with a smile. “Knew you could do it. Go catch more; you’ll need them to open up your museum.”

The edges of Sarawat’s lips peak upwards as he continues about the game. Tine goes back to the room he’s decorating, only to be interrupted by, “Why do these bugs fly away every time I get close to them? They’re gone before I can catch them.”

Tine sighs; they’ve still got a long way to go.

…

“What is that?” Tine asks just as Sarawat is collecting the wood that dropped from the tree he cut down.

“What is what?” he asks, continuing the amount of soft wood he has in his inventory. Three more pieces, and he’ll be able to complete the swinging bench DIY he just received.

“That!” Tine stresses, pointing at his character’s swollen eye.

“Oh,” he says, paying him little attention as he goes to the next tree. “I got stung by wasps.”

“I know that. But why haven’t you gotten medicine for it yet?”

He finally glances at Tine from the corner of his eye. “Do I really need to?”

Tine dramatically throws his hands into the air, clearly offended by Sarawat’s outlook. “Yes, you have to! You’re going to look like that until you do!”

Smirking, Sarawat goes into the shop, completely bypassing the cabinet with medicine in it in favor of selling the shells he found. “So this is just one of your chic things then, huh?” He pauses to look at his character. “It doesn’t look that bad. He’s still smiling. Besides, scars are hot, right?”

“Not in Animal Crossing,” Tine demands. “If you’re not going to buy any medicine, I’m sending you some.”

“I won’t use it.”

“Saraleo!”

…

Tine’s jaw is dropped, and his eyes are bugged. “How?” he asks, truly astonished.

Sarawat looks to him innocently, pointing to the screen. “How, what? How did I get to the deserted island? I did what you told me to do. I took the ticket to the airport and gave it to the dodo bird and then–”

“Not that.” Tine pushes his hand out of the way to get a better look at his screen. He moves the joystick around until the lone inhabitant of the island – a grey cat with mismatched eyes – is in frame. “That. How did you manage to find Raymond on your very first try?”

“Is he really that special?” Sarawat asks, moving his character to get a closer look.

“He’s completely new to the game, so everyone wants him. He goes for hundreds of baht online. And of course with your luck you find him on the very first island you visit.” Under his breath, he mutters, “Unbelievable.”

Humming, Sarawat circles the cat once before moving to the opposite side of the island to gather branches. Alarmed, Tine grabs his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Getting materials?” Sarawat answers skeptically.

“Get them after you invite Raymond to your island!” he demands.

“I mean, do I really have to?” Sarawat asks. “He’s cute, but he’s only a cat.”

“If you don’t, I’m breaking up with you. That’s not an exaggeration; I will have my things packed and on my way to Fong’s by tonight.”

“Okay, okay, I’m inviting him!”

…

Seeing the little blue box above his mailbox, Tine goes to check it. Inside is a package from Sarawat and a note that says ‘wear it to give me good luck.’

Putting the package into his inventory, he opens it to reveal a piece of clothing. He changes into it, and it honestly shouldn’t surprise him so much to see his character wearing a white and black jersey.

He can’t help but shake his head and laugh. He doesn’t know what Sarawat could possibly need luck for in the game, but he keeps it on regardless.

…

“I can’t believe Wat bought a Switch to play one game,” Man says over their group call. “Playing Animal Crossing together. That’s true love.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tine asks, flickering Man a smirk before he goes back to the river he’s terraforming. “Why don’t you play with P’Type then?”

Man visibly deflates. “He said if he invited me to his island, I’d mess up all of his flowers. I promised not to run through them, but he doesn’t believe me.”

“I just can’t believe Sarawat managed to get every rare villager in the game,” Phuak says.

“And he’s already had three meteor showers!” Tine adds. “I’d be mad, but he gave me all of his star fragments. So I can’t complain.”

“All of them?” Ohm exclaims, looking at the camera with wide eyes. “He didn’t keep any?”

“Tine wanted to make that special wand that lets you change into different outfits, and I honestly couldn’t care less.” Tipping Tine’s face towards him with a finger beneath his chin, Sarawat smiles softly. “Besides, it makes him happy. That’s all I really care about.”

His boyfriend’s sweet gaze and the chorus of coos coming from his laptop send Tine into a deep flush.

…

“Wat,” Tine calls. The two of them are on his island, sitting together on the bench he put in his garden. “Thank you for this. I know it’s probably not your favorite way to spend time together, and I shouldn’t have even let it come to this. I shouldn’t have let the game take up so much of my time.”

Tine doesn’t expect the flick Sarawat gives his forehead, and he rubs at it with a pout. “Stop apologizing, tua woon wai and get a few things straight. I bought this,” he holds up his console, “because I wanted to. You do plenty of things for me, and I’m doing this for you. That’s what boyfriends do.” He leans down to press a kiss to his shoulder. “And if it makes you smile, then that’s all the better.”

Tine pushes him away shyly, taking up his console again. “Come here. Take a picture with me.” He centers the camera and snaps a few shots of the two of them on the bench, soft bamboo lights illuminating the background.

Sarawat is already fast asleep when he puts the game down. Before he slips under the covers with him, he posts the pictures to his Instagram with the caption, ‘wouldn’t want to experience island life with anyone else.’

[norafike]

Despite all this, I still love you 15

That Saint Denis trip was the last she had seen of the gang, having left promptly thereafter to return to her own family. Lem was more than excited to see her return, running up once her horse rode in to greet her with a fond smile and Cripps exchanged a small word with her brothers about it, often teasing.

“You ought to take him out and have a long word with him.” Cripps mentioned to Harry who had been picking at chunks in his stew. The man shook his head slowly but when he looked over at his sister talking with the same person he disliked he couldn't help but feel bitter. “Why does she bother with him, he's a nuisance.”

“Well, Lem's not all bad once you know him.” Cripps commented to lighten the situation but Harry only rolled his eyes.

“She shouldn't have forgiven him back then, can't count the times one argument made her upset or angry.”

“Don't forget they were as bad as each other, Lem also found himself upset when they would argue.”

But Harry only shook his head slowly, eating more of his stew. James looked back and forth on the situation and nodded in agreement with everything both men had to say, not taking a specific side. “Look, shouldn't what matter be how Nora feels?” Cripps asked but Harry only let out a huff.

“If havin' Lem around makes her happy, why should it bother you? Ain't like you're around often enough anyway.”

“I'm around plenty, it's her who isn't.” Harry remarked. “And why's it matter what she thinks?”

“Because for one, she raised you both. You were young and as was she and instead of turning you into some orphanage she took you in and raised you into the men, better suited to be children, you are today.”

“All she did was babysit for a few years.” Cripps rolled his eyes, feeling like his ears were lying to him at how rude Harry was being and all of it starting due to his dislike in a certain friend of Nora's. Cripps finished the stew and stood, not before pointing a finger at the brother. “She taught you a lot of things necessary for survival. You wouldn't have lasted five minutes if it weren't for her.”

Harry didn't like that and promptly left the table to return to his tent for the night, leaving James and Cripps sitting alone with the younger males mouth hanging agape. James struggled to apologise on behalf of his twin, not finding an excuse to provide for him and so Cripps let out a little huff before resuming to the stock of his business, checking over everything ready for sell.

“How's Kieran?” Lem asked her. She beckoned him away from the camp to avoid eavesdroppers and had him sit down on a rock next to her. “Poor thing's gone missing.”

“M-Missing?” He gasped.

“Last I saw him he was drunk, not thinking clearly and I worry about what has happened to him.”

“Well, I'm sure he's gonna be fine, Nora.” Lem calmed and she gave him a light chuckle before shaking her head. “It's a nice thought to have but I'm afraid that…” She paused as she found it difficult to carry on with the sentence and began to pick at the thread of her blouse to distract her for a brief moment before she was able too. “Well, I'm afraid his time has inevitably ran out. I don't think Kieran ever had too long left.”

“That's v-very negative, especially f-from you.” Lem furrowed his eyebrows and Nora could only nod slowly, recognising herself how she had become a lot less hopeful in her words. “I know, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Lem looked over towards the campfire, ignoring the look on her face. “It's life after all.”

“Yeah.”

...

She sat near Lem on the rocks as they watched from a distance, Kieran fish. The man had occasionally turned back to talk with the two of them but for the most part they sat in comfortable silence.

“How many fish you caught Kieran?” Nora piped up to ask him and he looked down into his bucket to count how many he had in there. “Roughly f-five or six.” He answered.

“That's not bad.” She replied and Kieran nodded gently with her words, focusing on not blushing at her compliments or how kind he realised she was to him.

“We should start headin' back soon before the gang think you decided to run away, that or they think one of us murdered the other.”

He knew it to be spoken in some truth but he didn't wish to return quite yet, at least, not until it was well past nightfall and the majority of his unfortunate campmates had since retired to their cots or bedrolls to sleep. “With any luck they'll think you murdered me, then I can slip away and-” He had stopped himself quickly when the realisation struck that he hadn't meant the words he was about to say.

“Let's go.” He lowered his fishing rod and picked up his bucket in the same hand, taking Branwen by the reins and leading him over to Clemens Point. He wished to travel further to fish but with his past no members of the gang would let him travel too far out on his own and even when he had the odd permission to go far someone would grab his shoulder and warn him of what would happen if he stepped out of line.

But with Nora he felt like he could break the rules just to spend time with her that wasn't lived in fear for someone to tease or belittle him.

...

“A party at the mayor's?” Lem gasped when she so casually brought it up and the female nodded slowly to confirm it before handing out two cards between them. He looked at them briefly before turning them over, ready for their game to start once again.

“Someone Dutch and I became acquainted with has invited us along as like his guests. I'm not sure what we'll be doin', but I'm not so excited for it.” She explained to him.

“Can't believe you're actually g-gonna be going in that house. I used to admire the mansions in Saint Denis- when I would p-pass through there.”

Nora looked up, noticing the concentration on his face as he pulled a card from the deck, biting his lip in suspense as he pondered over the number before letting out an exhale of air when the number didn't go above twenty-one. “I did too, I guess.”

She reached forward and pulled out a card before sighing out loud as the kind brought her over the desired number and Lem snorted when he learned she lost to him again. “You gotta be cheatin', mister.”

“Guess I'm just lucky.” Nora laughed aloud when he said this and shook her head in disbelief at the claim. “You're by far the unluckiest person I met, Lemuel.”

“How k-kind of ya.”

She raised the bottle in a toast before taking a swig of it's liquid, scrunching her face at the bitter taste and gagging on it a little. “Tastes like piss.” She whispered before pouring the rest of its content out on the ground and noticing how Lem began to hide his laughter behind the back of his hand at her reaction to the beverage. His face began to turn red at his concentration to stifle the laugh which made it more obvious than it was and his joy elicited a bright smile on her face. “You're an ass.”

“I know.” He grinned before gathering the cards up once more and shuffling them together. She looked on fondly as his hands worked at the deck and took in how effortlessly they moved just to rearrange the cards for them and how gentle he had been with dealing and quickly she blurted out. “You have nice hands.”

Lem's eyebrow arched and he stopped the task to look up at her and they locked eyes before bursting into a fit of laughter at each other's expressions. Deep down she was mortified for saying such a sentence and was quick to blame it on the liquor that got to her head and he agreed knowing it to not be true, he knew Nora better than most. “Y-You have nice eyes.” He replied and she blushed a little.

“You do too.”

“Not me.” Lem shook his head before flipping his two cards over to start their game once again. Nora copied and watched as he reached forward to take a card. “I hate my eyes.”

Nora pouted, seemingly forgetting the game they were playing before she remembered and forced herself to draw from the deck and she grinned at the close call she got to going over again. “You have.” She paused to think for an answer. “You have nice lips.”

“I have nice lips?” His ears surely must have been playing tricks on him but when he looked up and saw that smirk he knew she was just teasing now and he chuckled lowly at it. “Thanks.” But he still wasn't sure how to properly respond to it.

“You have nice lips t-too.” He mumbled.

“I know.”

Lem rolled his eyes but his focus began to deteriorate and so their game had to come to an end abruptly. He gathered all their cards and returned them to that draw in her desk before excusing himself to leave for a break to catch some fresh air. She let him leave and once he felt he had travelled far enough from the camp he was quick to find a near tree and place his head against the trunk, letting out a deep sigh from his gut.

“Cigarette?” He startled when her voice caught him off guard and quickly turned around with his hands held high to show he was defenceless as if she was some predator to him and she snorted at the reaction before shaking the packet in the air for him to see. He didn't appreciate how amused she was at his fright but took the cigarette regardless, putting it in his mouth and striking match before lighting it.

They stood in a silence that would vary between awkward and comfortable and would occasionally flick their eyes towards one another before diverting their gazes away, their behaviour like teenagers again. The corner of Lem's mouth twitched into a subtle smile when he noticed how nervous she grew around him and when his cigarette had finished he flicked the few embers out a discarded the rest of it on the ground. “So.. you think I h-have nice lips huh?” He was teasing and she knew it and yet she couldn't avoid the flush to her cheeks.

“Yes.”

He leaned down towards her and cupped her cheek with his palm; his thumb tracing gentle patterns along her freckles and slowly he would lean towards her until their noses were brushing against the other. Her breathing hitched and it became hard to think clearly and she wanted to lean into his touch and close the gap between them but something was restricting her from doing so. “Thank you.” He whispered before pulling away.

She stood bewildered as he sauntered past towards camp again and Nora managed an intake of air once it finally caught up to her what just had happened and she silently cursed at him for his torment.

[darkhymns-fic]

The Cutest Maid for Me

After suffering a humiliating fishing defeat, Estelle needed some cheering up. And Joshua only knew one way he could do that, no matter that it was a little embarrassing... 

Fandom: Trails in the Sky/Sora no Kiseki Characters/Pairing: Estelle Bright/Joshua Bright Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Written for @taco-night-frenzy​ who I love dearly. It was her birthday yesterday! So here’s a gift of Trails! (Estelle is very fun).

The road to mastery was never easy. It was full of hardship, doubts and sometimes even pain. But Estelle had known her share of all of that – and she would achieve all she could despite whatever setbacks would come her way.

She threw out her fishing line with an expert flick, grinning in satisfaction when the hook made a soft plunk! as it bobbed onto the lake’s surface. “Ha! Beat that, Lloyd!”

The man standing next to Estelle on the dock, an expert fisherman that she had run into more times than she could count, rubbed his chin. His bushy moustache caught the sun's rays, burnishing it with a deep azure. “Hmm…impressive. You have a good wrist there. Nice arc on the line, and the bait is reaching deep enough into the water but not too much.”

“Heh,” Estelle huffed out with a smirk, one hand on her hip as she held the fishing pole in the other. She was already a master after all. The Fisherman’s Guild had recognized her talents long ago! But it seemed that one of their members wanted to put her to the test still.

Valleria Lake was no stranger to Estelle or to Lloyd. It was here where they had met each other long ago, back when Estelle had been a much lower-rank Bracer, and when Lloyd was just another regular fisherman. The Kingfisher Inn had been on the way for her and Joshua’s travels, and they had decided to rent out a room there, happy with some of the memories it brought them, as well as their much needed rest from so much traveling across Zemuria.

It seemed to be fate that she and Lloyd would meet again here at this very same place.

“Flattery isn’t going to save you.” With a turn to the fisherman, Estelle Bright, B rank Bracer and Legendary Angler, tried to give the man some hope. “But it has been a while since I seriously fished. Currently out doing my Bracer duty and all. Takes up my time a lot.”

Lloyd nodded, taking in her words with the utmost solemnity. “I apologize for interrupting you with this Angler’s Duel. It brings me back to when you were only a rookie… To see how far you’ve come!”

Estelle was not only the best at being a Bracer and being a fisher, but also at humbleness. She was humble as hell! Estelle started to laugh good-naturedly, to show off more of that humble nature of hers! “I’ve grown up! And I’ve learned plenty along the way!”

The last time she and Lloyd had dueled, she had been more hesitant, a bit greener around the gills as it were. (That was a fishing pun! She knew these things now because she was a fisher). But after all her experiences and finally finding Joshua, Estelle was confident, and of course much stronger. As proof, she was already feeling a nibble on her line! But she restrained from going ahead and reeling it in just yet. With that same smirk, she let the catch slip away, the ripples of its escape dancing across the water’s surface.

Lloyd was understandably confused. “Why didn’t you go and catch it? You had it!”

“It was just a small-fry. I’m here to get bigger game.” Estelle turned back to Lloyd with her most humble grin. “And I wanted to give you a head-start! Now you should show me what you’ve learned over this last year!”

Estelle may have also felt a bit competitive lately. Joshua would rarely fish with her as it was, even now! Maybe Lloyd would give her a challenge that she’d been lacking!

On their last duel, Lloyd had been fired up as they competed, but he had also floundered (another pun!), missing multiple catches in a row, allowing Estelle to claim sweet victory. But even if he had improved, she knew she could be better.

Lloyd stared hard at the lake, still rubbing his chin, his moustache absolutely brimming with energy. It was amazing how little the fisherman had changed at all for the past year. He even wore the exact same clothes! She recognized that green jacket, his leather belt, those brown pants…were those even the same shoes?

“Fair warning, Estelle. While you’ve been busy…I’ve been honing my own skills!” And there it was, that fiery look in the man’s eyes, that drive to fish to the max! At first, Estelle thought these fisher guys were a little weird, but she understood completely now.

“Then show me what you got!” she goaded on with a laugh. No matter that she let her line sink a bit into the water, that her form was more relaxed. She had this!

“Gladly!” That was when Lloyd went to his side of the pier, walked over to the fishing rack with multiple rods placed alongside each other…

…and pulled out two of them. Both of them crafted to perfection, their wood carefully polished, and their lures as bright as any scrumptious bait that the fish would be hungering for.

“My double fishing technique is going to leave you out to dry!” Lloyd stated proudly. “You’ll have to catch up to me now!”

Estelle blinked, her humble grin completely wiped from her face. “Wait…wait, two? You can have two? Isn’t that against the rules?” The Fisherman’s Guild had rules, didn’t it?

“This is an advanced technique proposed by Mister Fisher himself!” Lloyd waggled his thick mustache in pride, then whipped out both rods towards the giant lake. “Hiyaaaa!”

Estelle had not been prepared for this at all. She floundered (no!!) with her own fishing pole, just able to grab at it before it fell into the water. She then turned to Lloyd with a grimace. “I’ve been away from the Guild for over a year! I didn’t get any news about using double fishing rods!” Was Lloyd trying to trick her? It would make sense, as it would be the only way to beat her…

Lloyd faced the lake with that same fire in his eyes, one fishing rod in each hand. Already the lines were pulling on both! So fast!

“Better not just stand there gawking now!” Lloyd said. “Or I’ll be winning this duel in style!”

“How can you fish with two fishing rods!? How are you even going to reel them in? It makes no sense!” It would be like if Estelle used two staffs instead of one! Their weight would hinder her and would make it harder to do her moves! Sure, Joshua used two swords to fight but swords were different and he was always weird about stuff like that anyway…

Lloyd though, seemed to have no trouble with his catch. With another triumphant shout, he stepped back on the pier, and pulled on both rods with a flourish. The water, from where the lures were descended into, burst upwards in a glorious array of colors. The sun caught the droplets, fell onto Lloyd’s hair and moustache, all as the fishing lines curled around him, as if they were a part of him...

From both hooks hung two wiggling basses. Lloyd stood tall. “Now see if you can beat that! I gave it my all, and now got my all twice-over!”

Estelle blinked. “Muh? But those are just- argh! Never mind! You’re on, buster!” She took her fishing rod in both hands, gripping it as she would with her staff, and readied herself for her next move.

She wasn’t going to lose!

It was only an hour later before the door to Joshua’s and Estelle’s room in the Kingfisher Inn opened so forlornly that Joshua had barely noticed it at first. Except well, that wasn’t entirely true. Trained to be a hyperaware killing machine, he noticed it right away actually. It was just…it had opened so pathetically he didn’t even feel he had to be on his guard.

And going by the soft footsteps, Joshua had already known who it was.

“Is everything alright, Estelle?” he asked. Seated at a small table next to the window, he closed the book he had been reading. The fascinating history between the exotic fruit traders of the Calvard Republic and the Erbonian Empire would have to wait. “I was getting worried.”

Estelle’s position was so slouched, she might as well have been dragging her head across the floor. As it was though, it was mostly her twin ponytails, probably catching every piece of dirt and lint on the way. “Joshua…”

He got up, now overly concerned. Eyes hard, he knelt before Estelle, grasping her shoulders. “Did you get hurt?” Was it the agents of Ouroboros? Or had Estelle found Renne but couldn’t get her back? “Tell me what happened.”

She collapsed to the floor, knees tucked underneath her. It seemed that all of her previous zest for life had completely left her. How could someone extinguish her light so easily? “…Joshua…”

He gripped her shoulders tighter. “Estelle…please tell me.”

She finally raised her eyes to him, on the verge of tears. “I…I lost!”

“Lost what? Did you…?” So she must have found Renne then. Estelle would feel so guilty at losing her already-

“The Angler’s Duel! I lost!” Estelle’s once broken voice was then tinged with disbelief, a pout in her tone that Joshua could recognize anywhere.

“…You lost a duel?” Joshua questioned, then sighed. The fire in his amber eyes cooled instantly. “Is this just about fishing?”

“It’s not just that!” Estelle than stood up, leaving his hold. “I didn’t just lose a fishing duel! I lost my reputation!” With a frustrated groan, she sat on the bed, muttering under her breath. “Stupid…two rods…not even fair…”

Joshua got up from the floor as well. At least it hadn’t been anything too serious. “You’ll get over it. Why don’t you have something to eat at least?”

“I’m not even hungry!” Estelle whined, obviously lying but Joshua would let her ride that anger out until her stomach started growling at any moment. “I just wanna sleep and forget it all…Leave me to wallow in my shame…” With another sigh, Estelle let herself fall backwards onto the bed to finally sleep away her defeat at the hands of Lloyd, already feeling drowsy while halfway to the pillow…

“Estelle, watch out!”

Bam!

“Owww!!” Estelle sat up instantly, clutching the back of her head in pain. The metal rim of the bed’s headboard had a nice big dent from where her skull had collided into it at full speed. “Why was that even there?!”

“We’ve been sleeping in this bed for the past few nights, you should already know by now…” Joshua sat next to her, massaging the back of her head with his hands. “There, there…”

“Waaa…what if my skull is broken?”

“It’s not broken.” Joshua gave her head a gentle pat. “You’ve got the thickest skull in all of Zemuria.”

“…You’re not that great at comforting, you know.”

“I know.”

As Joshua rubbed that forming bump on Estelle’s head (wouldn’t be the first time either), he could feel Estelle beginning to wind down from earlier. “Since when do you want to skip out on dinner? Come on, we can get you something from the downstairs kitchen.”

And for a moment, Estelle looked as if she would listen. It would be nice just to eat together, especially after all of their hard traveling throughout the continent, searching for any traces of Renne where they could. This familiar inn by Valleria Lake was supposed to be their moment of rest, and he was going to make sure Estelle got that.

She gazed up at him, that bump on her head almost like a halo with the way it framed her…It was really that big. Maybe Joshua needed to get Estelle to a doctor…

“Hey, Joshua…You know what would make me happy?” Estelle said, interrupting his thoughts. Her eyes were as bright as the sun, the same sun that had shone through his seemingly everlasting darkness.

He knew exactly what she was asking for then.

Joshua lowered his eyelids halfway, distant and empty of all meaning. His hands slid from her head, hanging now from his sides. “No.”

“Come onnn!” Estelle placed her fists underneath her chin, as excited as a kid who just caught a gigantic, wriggling, completely disgusting beetle in her bare hands. “It’ll be great!”

“I can’t keep doing this for you every time you get sad, Estelle.”

“But I’m injured! Look!” She ducked her head, showcasing more of that bump that poked through her hair. “Looook!!”

“I’m looking! Now please stop!” Joshua lost his cool demeanor. With Estelle, he could barely keep it up for very long. “…Do I really have to do this for you?”

“But you like it too, Joshua!”

He sighed in long-suffering defeat. Joshua knew when to pick his battles, and with Estelle, there was just no winning. Not when she looked at him like that. “Fine. Give me a minute then.”

“Yay!” Estelle reached out to hug him, her pain of past losses (and actual pain) already leaving her so quickly. “You’re the best!”

“I’m only wearing it for a little while! I don’t want anyone seeing it…” With that proclamation, Joshua went to the window and pulled the curtains closed. The sun outside was shut out, with no more view of the grand lake.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, Joshua! It looks good on you!”

Joshua could control every action of his body – even down to the very core temperature. But not when it came to Estelle. He was weak to everything she threw at him; from puppy dog eyes to the multiple bugs she had literally thrown at his face. He could already feel his face burning a bright red. “Estelle, come on…”

She was grinning, already looking very excited, and he couldn’t let her down. Not after everything she did for him.

“…Don’t take pictures this time,” Joshua said before he went to an extra room in the back, quickly pulling out a dark garment from one of their packs. “I mean it.”

“Oh fiiine,” Estelle said, but she was still smiling just before he turned away to change.

She really had him wrapped around her finger, didn’t she?

Even though only a few minutes passed, Estelle easily got impatient. Even more so now with the throbbing on her head. That bump really hurt! These beds were clearly a safety hazard. The Kingfisher Inn needed to get their standards up for sure! But she would fulfill her Bracer duties later on. Right now, she only wanted one thing!

“Joshua!” Estelle yelled. She had gone to seat herself at the table, pushing whatever book was on there more to the side, more away from her. (She had looked through it earlier and saw no pictures, so it wasn’t that important anyway).

“Hold on!” She heard Joshua call from the back. “This isn’t the easiest thing to put on…”

“I can help!” she said ecstatically. “Want me to help?”

“No!”

“Aw…”

But Joshua didn’t keep her waiting long. Finally the door to the back room opened. Estelle was practically vibrating on her seat, her twin ponytails nearly perked up the same way animal ears tended to do…

“Uh, are…you sure you’re alright?” Joshua asked. He pressed down on the front of the maid’s dress, looking shy as he did so. The material was pitch black, decorated with white frills alongside its sleeves and the hem, which was outfitted with a white apron on the front. He looked exactly like how he did back at Grancel Castle when they had to be in disguise, only lacking the long-haired wig he had worn last time. But it didn’t detract from his presentation at all. “That bump on your head looks like it’s getting bigger.”

Estelle waved away any health concerns. “Psh, I’m fine! I’m better than ever!” She was too busy looking over at Joshua in his maid’s uniform, complete with the white cap. “I just need my maid to serve me my food!”

Joshua closed his eyes, and in his arms brought up a picnic basket that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Of course…Lady Estelle…”

“Hehe, yeah!” She pumped her fist in the air. This was great!

“But seriously, I’m not even sure how you were able to keep these maid outfits at all.” He looked down again at what he wore, down to the prim stockings and shining shoes with the heels just a tad too high for him. “These are supposed to only belong to Grancel Castle.”

“It’s a secret technique!” Estelle said with a wink, careful to not let slip the fact that the simple act of asking the other maids for spare clothes had been the solution. But she was too busy staring hard at pretty Joshua and the food he carried just for her! When he dared to walk closer to her, she then tugged on the hem Joshua’s dress, pulling him nearer. “C’mere!”

“Estelle, stop! I’m gonna trip!” Joshua complained, still struggling with the stockings he had put on. But despite being expertly trained ever since at a young age, he apparently could not sidestep quick enough to avoid landing right in Estelle’s lap, picnic basket bouncing over his knees.

“Hehe, got you just where I want ya!” she said gleefully. “Remember to feed me!”

“Well, can you at least hold still?” Despite his complaints, his voice had been soft, and his actions even more demure. He reached into the picnic basket he still held onto…and pulled out a big steak and cheese sandwich that honestly didn’t look to be fit for human consumption.

“You even got me my favorite!” Estelle purred, squeezing Joshua to her chest. “Thank you, thank you!”

“It’s kinda hard to feed you when you’re holding onto me tight…” Joshua was able to free himself from her arms, then held up the big sandwich to her, trying to not let any of the condiments fall out of its loose hold. “Uh, dig in?”

Something about this meant something much more to Estelle than just satisfying her hunger (although that was a big plus).

When they had been in small town, seeming so long ago, Estelle had felt so content seated next to Joshua on the bench, eating the freshly-prepared sandwiches they had gotten earlier from the market. She hadn’t realized the extent of her feelings then, even as she caught the soft catch of the light reflected in Joshua’s eyes, memories caught in amber. Because Joshua knew and remembered so much, more than she had been able to. Unlike her, he had always known.

She had got to be so up-close to him as she force-fed him their food, something about that moment engraving itself into her very heart. She wanted it to stay locked their forever.

Joshua still had those same eyes, though accompanied by a gentle blush on his cheeks. He looked away, towards the floorboards that connected to the far-right wall of their room. “Why are you staring so much, Estelle?”

Even his voice could always take away her breath so easily, but she was able to stay upright, to stay in control (even if her head still felt a little woozy), all while carrying the boy she loved in her lap. “Because I want to! Do you not like it?”

“I mean if you’re thinking weird things about me, then maybe.”

That only served to tickle Estelle, swinging her legs all excitedly as she continued to hold Joshua. “Not that weird! Maybe a little!” And before he could question it, Estelle could no longer resist. She took a huge chomp right out of the sandwich Joshua held out to her, leaning forward enough to catch the look of utter surprise on his face. It was even cuter when he was in the maid outfit!

“Ow! Estelle, you just bit my fingers!”

“Mmph? Somphy!” Estelle apologized through a muffled mouth. The sandwich was still good though!

“It’s…fine…” Joshua sighed again, but he hadn’t shifted from her lap. He continued holding the sandwich, closing his eyes, trying his best to stay peaceful. “I’m getting used to it.”

“I didn’t bite that hard this time!” Estelle said after swallowing her food. “Give me another! And don’t we have some cookies in there too?”

The time passed peacefully, for Estelle at least. After already scarfing down the sandwich and only biting at Joshua’s fingers two more times, they both started to share some chocolate chip cookies. Estelle felt like she was flying high in an airship, eating scrumptious cookies right out of Joshua’s hand. And she was more careful with her teeth this time!

After a while, Joshua looked to be at more ease, but every so often, he’d stare at Estelle, looking ready to speak but then pressing his lips together firmly. After about the fifth time, she had to ask him about that.

“What’s wrong, Joshua?” she said, spilling crumbs from her mouth. “Is the dress too tight?”

“It…Well, kinda.” He shook his head, all while brushing aside the crumbs to keep Estelle from making a mess. “Just, you haven’t really ever explained why you keep wanting me to wear this.”

“Hm, why not though? It’s fun!” Estelle’s face glowed with pride. “Is it because I can’t match with you? Maybe next time I can buy a pair!”

“It’s not that… And, you didn’t really answer my question.” Here, Joshua acted a bit more serious, or as serious as he could, still perched on Estelle’s lap. “Can you please tell me?”

It made Estelle think for a moment, even as she continued to chew on her cookie. It did give her a moment to think on it, and after a while, a soft smile broke through.

“I just think it’s nice…Because, well, maybe you haven’t noticed, but usually you’re the one that gets me all flustered instead.” Estelle’s cheeks brightened at the mention of it, remembering all those times when Joshua would nearly leave her speechless, turning all her thoughts into mush. “I’m so weak when I’m with you…like, in a good way, but still..”

She reached to take one of his hands with her, raising up her gaze to meet his eyes. “And now look at you! You’re like putty in my hands! Or my lap, I guess. And I like that. I like that I know that I can affect you the same way. It makes me feel even closer to you.”

Joshua was quiet as she spoke, still sitting quite easily on her lap, hands clasped together neatly as Estelle held on. He was really pulling off this look well. “Estelle…”

The wolfish grin she sported should have warned him then. She leaned in for a quick kiss on his cheek. “There!”

Stammering, blushing, and all around red in the face, Joshua was the complete opposite of his usual calm self. “E-Estelle!”

“What? You do that to me plenty!” To demonstrate further, Estelle leaned in to kiss Joshua’s other cheek, tapping her Stregas on the floor as she did so. “See?”

“I’m…not used to this…” he admitted. “And without the wig, I just look stupid. I really don’t understand how you like this.”

Estelle tilted her head, then shrugged. “I dunno. I just do! You look cute!” She poked at his sides then. “And so shy too!”

“Y-you know I’m ticklish there!”

“Yeah, exactly!” And she kept going, kept tickling to Joshua’s protests before she started to slow down slightly. “But maybe…stop spinning around so much, you know…”

“Estelle?”

“Ehe…” With her goofy grin, Estelle leaned in once more, looking like she was about to kiss him on the lips right then and there. Not that they haven’t already. Joshua had even been the one to take her first kiss too. But now it seemed like she would do the same almost…

Of course Estelle ended up falling backwards on the floor, bringing Joshua down with her.

His reflexes came in time to get him moving, to get to his feet and grab Estelle before she would hit her head against the floor. “Hey! What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine worry in his voice, his dark locks frayed about his head as he looked at her with concern.

“…I may or may not have a concussion,” Estelle said with a lazy wink. “Hehe…”

“Estelle, that’s not funny! We need to get you to a doctor. There should be one in town.” Joshua went to carry her up in his arms with a groan. As he cradled her head, carefully keeping it level, he looked at with her with maid-like disapproval. “You’re so troublesome sometimes…”

“I’m not troublesome…I’m Estelle!” She shook her head, her smile just a bit lop-sided. “Maybe it’s you that needs a doctor instead…”

“Alright, sure. Come along, Miss Troublesome.” Joshua headed straight for the door to their room, reaching to unlock it. “Try not to fall asleep, okay?”

“Hey…you’re still wearing the maid’s dress, you know?” she pointed out, even as the room was definitely getting all spinny now. “Thought you didn’t want people to see…”

“We shouldn’t waste any time. You need to get checked up.” But she saw that blush on his cheeks, even as he tried to play himself off as the cool Joshua Bright that she knew since childhood. “And it’s not so bad anyway…can move pretty freely in this.”

Estelle could feel the smile on her face. Maybe it was too wide and manic if she went from Joshua’s worried expression, but it didn’t matter. She laid her head against his shoulder, knowing that no matter what, he would always be there for her.

[lovehugsandcandy]

Who Killed Jason Shaw? Chapter 3: Toby (RoD, Colt x MC)

Summary: Ellie’s investigation heats up as Toby gives her new information and new questions.

Rating: R (discussions of death, violence, dead body)

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Length: ~1900 words

Ellie felt the sun’s rays hit her face; she rolled over and was about to slide back into her dreams when her brain jolted, remembering the events of the day before. Her eyes flew open.

Colt was still sleeping next to her, hair mussed, mouth slightly open, one hand curled protectively around her hip; she took a moment to watch him sleep, the one time he seemed perfectly at peace, looking younger than ever as his brow softened and jaw relaxed, before rolling out of bed and fishing her clothes off of the floor.

The only thing she could think was that she had to protect him. She had to protect them all.

When she wandered down into the shop, she had to smile; even though it was early, the telltale sound of metal banging against metal echoed across the concrete. She followed the noise to where Toby was under a muffler, his laptop perched next to him play what appeared to be an endless loop of GoT.

He jumped up when he saw her, barely missing banging his head on the bumper. “Ellie! Long time no see!”

Her grin was strained. She had seen Toby that weekend. Eyes still bleary from her cross-country travels, she had been running errands in Inglewood when he almost walked into her as she left a shop; at the time, he made her promise that she would stop by to see him. Neither of them had thought it would be under these circumstances. “Hey, Toby. Listen, I need to-”

“Wait, hold on!” He knelt to pause the video and then his arms circled her shoulders, tightly, wiry muscles holding her close.

“Hi, Toby. Hi,” she wheezed. “I love you but…I need…to breathe.”

“Oh, sorry, of course.” He stepped back but the beaming grin on his face didn’t dim. “I know I saw you the other day but I missed you!”

“I missed you too.” Her smile faded. “But I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, I need to tell you so much too! I finally finished Game of Thrones but I decided to watch from the beginning again because Ximena’s not caught up yet so when she finally gets to season-”

“Toby!”

He blinked at her behind thick glasses. “Sorry. Sorry. What did you have to tell me?”

“Jason Shaw’s dead.”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Yeah, car accident. “

“Wait, what?” He slowly lowered himself to the ground.

“He got into a car accident late Sunday night.” She sighed, a heavy burst of wind through her lips. “My dad thinks it wasn’t accidental.”

Toby only stared up at her, head in his hands.

She crouched to the ground to look at him, straight on. “Toby, do you know anything?”

“About this?”

“My dad thinks it was someone in the crew.”

He shook his head, vehemently. “You’re asking if I killed him, aren’t you? No way. I was playing D&D with some friends on Sunday and we were on a massive raid to save the princess from a tower but we didn’t have all of the weapons we needed to we needed to go to the ice palace to get special armor and then-”

“This sounds like Zelda, but ok, I believe you.” She stood, frowning. “I didn’t think you would do it anyways, you know.”

He only blinked up at her. “Ellie, how do you know he’s dead?”

“What do you mean?” Her heart stopped. He was dead. Wasn’t he? He had to be dead, going that fast, and the massive fire. Right?

“I don’t know…he’s wily. What if it’s not true? What if the cops faked it?”

Ellie blinked at him, suppressing the retort on her tongue. Luckily, it was that moment that she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Colt heading out to the floor, grinning as he wrapped an arm around her waist to whisper in her ear.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“Nightmares?”

She sighed, nudging his chin with her forehead. “Never with you.”

“Hello?” Toby’s voice made her turn. “I’m still here, you know. And, I thought of something.”

“What?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I think I can help in your investigation.”

“Ok…”

“I mean, I’m not sure, but I think that I can and if you think it would be helpful-”

“Out with it, Toby.” Colt stared at him, voice barely masking his annoyance. 

“I can get his phone records.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped. “Seriously?”

“I think so. Give me a second.” He pulled over his laptop and started typing, feverishly. “You see, when I was trying to break into the school AV system, I accidentally got into the cell tower somehow and it was pretty simple from there to break into the-”

“Toby?” She stared. “Are you telling me you accidentally got access to all of the cell phone records for all of LA?”

He blinked up at her, fingers still flying over the keyboard. “Yes?”

“I don’t understand how that’s possible…”

“You don’t need to.” He turned the screen to them with a flourish. “Because here they are.”

Her eyes widened and she dropped to the ground, Colt following, to stare at the screen.

Toby continued without missing a beat. “This is it. All calls he made, all calls he received. And it’s a lot. Local, out-of-state, all here.” He hummed as he examined list, scrolling up and down. “Huh. Weird. This little P next to the number means a pay phone. For something that is basically obsolete, he sure got a lot of calls from them, like here, Sunday afternoon, from the Pavilion. Lots of calls out of state; this local one happens a ton, you should look up what that is.”

Colt scoffed. “Probably his lawyer.”

Ellie watched the dizzying array of numbers piling up on the screen. “Can you print these for me?”

“Sure, no problem.” He hit a few keys and stood up to head into the office.

“Wait!” Colt shouted after Toby’s retreating back. “Can I get a copy, too?”

“Sure, bossman.” 

Toby disappeared through the doorway as Ellie looked blankly at Colt. “You playing detective, Kaneko?”

“Don’t you want to know who killed him?”

She bit her lip. “Not really, to be honest. I just don’t want any of my friends in jail. I don’t care who did it, as long as we don’t go down.”

“I care. I want to buy them a drink.”

“Colt…”

“Seriously. I want to buy them a drink. Hell, a whole bottle, whatever they want."

"Colt!"

"Ok, ok. Fine. You’re the detective here. I can be your sidekick.” Colt shot her a wink. “But you’d look better in spandex.”

She just rolled her eyes as Toby returned, bouncing triumphantly, handing the pages over with a flourish and settling on the ground again. “You know, with a little work, I could probably get bank account details too.” Toby’s eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at the screen.

“What?”

“That’d be amazing!” Colt’s eyes were wide as he turned to her. “Ellie, if we had those…”

Ellie had to hold up her hands. “Are you sure, Toby? I don’t want you to get in trouble…”

“I think I can do it. Give me a day.”

She sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was to drag the crew into this. “Ok. Fine. Thank you.” She looked at her phone. “Crap. I need to get back for breakfast with my dad. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Will do.” Toby didn’t even look up from the laptop. She smiled and gave him a wave as she turned to her car, Colt following. He grabbed her hand as they walked.

“Hey, you ok, Ellie?“

"Yea. I’m just worried. And I want you as far away from this as I can get you.” He quirked an eyebrow  but the sinking in her stomach was appeased when he pulled her in for a gentle kiss, waving her on her way as she started the engine of her dad’s old cruiser.

But, the entire drive, she worried on a thumbnail, sneaking glances at the phone records inside her bag; all she wanted to do was protect the crew. What if this was just involving them further?

Thankfully, she made it home in time to have breakfast with her dad; however, she couldn’t focus on cooking or eating or the conversation. The entire time, Toby’s words echoed in her head. She knew he was dead. Jason Shaw was dead.

Wasn’t he?

Once her dad padded up the stairs for a nap, she headed for door, trying and failing to slow her feet, to stop the shaking in her hands. They shook the entire way there, all the way to the parking lot, where she turned the key and stared at the imposing doors of Reagan UCLA Medical Center.

With a deep breath, she strode through the lobby, finding the stairs and heading down as far as she could go. She had done far worse things in her life. She could do this.

She walked through the halls with her head held high but didn’t see anyone, her feet echoing on empty tile. She followed signs for the morgue, stopping in front of a sterile door. After peeking in, making sure it was empty and she had some privacy, she pulled open the heavy door and slid inside.

It was cold, colder than she expected, and she shivered as she looked around, eyes falling on the metal coolers in the back of the room. She had to take a deep breath, lungs rebelling at the chemicals and solvents in the air, and headed over to check for names. And there, right there, in the middle row, second column on the right, in thick black marker: Shaw, Jason.

Another deep inhale of caustic air and she pulled open the cooler, latch clanking as she pushed the door to the side. She half-expected him to leap up from under the sheets, to attack her, claim his revenge but it was silent, still. She let out a slow breath and pulled the shelf, sliding it out so the sheet and the mass underneath lay in front of her.

“I can do this. I can-” Her whisper gave her strength and, before she could reconsider, she pulled the sheet off and gasped. “Oh my God.”

He was burned, burns everywhere, scorch marks on his chest, the right side of his face, cuts and scrapes and marks covering him, but it was him. Gruesome, ruined, destroyed, but him. And he was dead, undoubtedly, skin blue and cold where it wasn’t burned black and red and inhuman.

She was shaking, staring at the man who haunted her nightmares, who tried to ruin her life, her body trembling so hard that it was vibrating the sheet still gripped between her convulsing fingers. Was it the cold? Fear?

She bit her lip, looking around the room. Or was it anger? She strode over to a steel tray and grabbed a scalpel, clutching it in a tight fist before she returned to his side. And, before she even knew what she was doing, before her common sense could kick in, she moved, hand slamming down, embedding the knife directly into his chest, killing him again.

His heart had long stopped beating. There was no blood welling up from the cut, just a small gash; it was just another injury on this lifeless body.

“You fucking asshole.” The words came to the surface along with the tears and she had to shake her head. A year ago she didn’t swear; now, she was dropping curses after desecrating corpses. “You fucking asshole.”

She hurriedly dropped the scalpel in the sharps container before replacing the sheet and shoving his worthless body into the cooler again. She hazarded a look back, one last glance at the rows of coolers, before striding out of the room.

Oh well. She had committed worse crimes anyway.

[hoeseamatthews]

Oh, Memories

A/N: Just another lil idea I had, enjoy! And a massive thank you to @morlawny for giving this a proof read for me beforehand❤

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,168

Warnings: Major game spoilers!

Summary: You finally muster the inner strength to pay your respects to Arthur.

You scuff your boots on the loose stones that lay on the trail while you trudge along to the end of the cliffside, and you take in the sight of the snow capped northern peaks of Ambarino off in the distance when you finally stop walking. There’s no mistaking that you’re at the right place. It’s absolutely beautiful, and Charles definitely needs to be thanked for choosing this spot for him. You make a mental note to do so the next time you see him.

It’s been a few days shy of three months without Arthur, and time certainly hasn’t began to heal any wounds. At least not yet, anyway. For weeks, you’ve been postponing this journey. Not because you don’t want to do it, but because you know exactly how hard it’s going to be for you, and you’ve still been trying your best to lay low after everything that’s transpired. But you’re finally here, and you’re doing this. Today is the day.

You look down at the flowers adorning Arthur’s grave, and that alone brings a despondent smile to your face. Some are beginning to wither, and some look more colourful, more lively than others, so clearly some people have been visiting. It just goes to show that he was loved. Is still loved by many out there. You have no qualms about that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner.”

Fighting against the lump that sits in your throat, you address him, and the tears already begin to involuntarily spill over your waterline. You reach out, slowly, tracing fastidious fingers along the engraving on the wooden cross that marks where Arthur lays, and you only upset yourself even more.

“I been meaning to. It’s just...things’re hard without you, Arthur. I’m strugglin’.” you manage through harsh intakes of breath as your body shudders with sobs, “H-Havin’ to start all over, lay low, all that. It’s hard. And...and it don’t feel right, ‘cause you ain’t here with me. I-It just ain’t fair.”

A minute passes by, and you use that time to compose yourself. The waterworks don’t completely stop, but you manage to calm yourself down enough to talk some more. You have so much to say, you’re worried about forgetting some details. You don’t know a great deal about where some of your friends are now, but you decide that updating Arthur with what you do know is good enough, better than nothing at all.

“John, Abigail, and Jack. They’re alright. They made it, thanks to you. Sadie, Tilly, they’re alive, too. Don’t know where they all are now, but they’re alive. I know that much. Seen Charles, too. Gave me the directions to where you are. He put you here, y’know? Went back for you, came and put you where ya woulda wanted to be.” you briefly rub at your nose and clear your throat, “And me? I’m...gettin’ by. Barely. Strugglin’, like I said, but I’m alive. It’s been hard on me. I’m hidin’ out in a shack somewhere for now, but I’m just...lonely. I ain’t got nobody.”

You groan and inwardly curse, willing more tears away. You didn’t want to spend your entire visit crying, but you knew this was going to be emotionally taxing for you. In an effort to regain some control over your emotions, you preoccupy yourself with the surroundings, mainly the view of the evening sky. With impeccable timing, you find yourself staring directly at the sunset. You’re sure that Arthur loves seeing such a view every evening. Tangerine hues merge with a magenta sky as the sun sets, and the hills below the peaks blush a delicate pink through the kiss of soft light. The dusky sky intensifies over time, your face still aglow with the remainder of the orange rays while the man you love makes his way back into your thoughts.

“I been thinkin’ ‘bout you lately. A lot. Wishin’ you was here with me, how much I love you, all the things we done together. God, we got plenty of stories to tell folk, don’t we?”

A soft chuckle precedes a yearning sigh, and plenty more memories all seem to come back to you in that moment. All pleasant ones. No negatives. While your relationship was far from being the equivalent of something you’d be likely to read in a storybook, you choose to remember the good things, and the flicker of a smile graces your features.

You fondly remember the day you and Arthur had first met, when you’d first joined the gang at camp. He’d actively made an effort to make you feel welcome, right from the beginning, and you’d both quickly became friends after bonding during nightly games of dominoes, even poker, if he wasn’t absent from camp for several days on end.

The first time you went fishing with him is another that comes to mind, and how the size of the damn bass you’d hooked had almost dragged you into the water when it fought with you on the other end of the line. He’d dropped his own rod and immediately rushed to your aid, and you laughed about it over dinner that night, reciting the events of that particular catch to the rest of camp with full bellies.

And how can you possibly forget the very first time he’d told you he loves you? He’d practically laid himself bare for you out of the blue that one evening, and it took you by surprise, but you were elated that he felt the same way as you did. He was very...to the point about his feelings for you, in typical Arthur fashion. You wouldn’t have had it any other way, either. You knew his words were sincere, and the giveaway was all in the eyes when he’d told you. Those eyes never lied, at least not to you, anyway.

Smiling despite the tears, you sniffle as they slide down your cheeks, and you swipe them away with the pad of your thumb. You snap yourself out of your reminiscent reverie, and you smile down at Arthur’s final resting place. Crouching slightly, you place fresh flowers down, ones that you’d picked not an hour or two before you set out for here.

“I know I’m a long way off it right now, but...one day, I think I’m gonna be alright.” you slowly rise back up to your feet to stand at your full height, your eyes remaining fixed on the cross engraved with his name, “And...one last thing. I got somethin’ to tell ya. It’s...quite a surprise.”

A surprise, indeed. One you were oblivious to until you absolutely had to pay the doctor a visit a few weeks back, just to be certain. Arthur never found out before everything went to shit, but it won’t stop you from telling him now. Slowly, you raise a hand to your stomach, and you caress the small bump over your dress.

“We’re both gonna be alright.”

[hortascountrysidenotes]

No Happy Medium

Of course it’s now raining cats and dogs and doesn’t know when to stop - we no longer seem to have a happy medium and it’s very warm too, so walking the dogs in full waterproof gear is a very hot job!

A wonderful week away in Slovenia - what a great little country - only fully independent since 1991, but the 2m population are running a class act.  Spotlessly clean Ljubljana is a joy - small enough to walk around in a day and see the delightful architecture, the 10th in the world on water cleanliness, practically no plastic bottles following a Mayor’s decisions to just say no, incredible rubbish control and recycling bins, little electric buggies and no cars in the centre of not just Ljubljana but several other smaller towns too.

The scenery is heavenly - rolling hills and towering mountains, turquoise coloured rivers, great bird song and woodland. Good wine from the Vipava valley and such friendly and helpful people - just as well really as I think mastering Slovenian could be a lifelong occupation!

Three days trout fishing on firstly the Sava river which flows into the Danube,  the Soca pronounced Socha, and its tributary the Lepena which flows into the Adriatic near Trieste.  The former was our first day and we mastered a new technique on nymphing but with a bite indicator on the line - I managed to catch a really nice fish - wild rainbow trout - about 3 1/2 pounds which gave me a good little fight on some lightweight tackle.  Also in the river are to be found wild brown trout and a fish called Hucho which is known as the Danube Salmon.  They are pretty large but usually only fished for in the winter months - they take other fish.  As the water is so completely gin clear we could see them lurking near the bottom!  The second day up in the Julian Alps was a joy - the Soca and Lepena are absolutely stunning - the water even more turquoise and even clearer and we caught some wonderful fish on both nymph and dry fly.  These two rivers are also home to Marble Trout which sadly we could not lure to our fly this time! The wildflowers although over, could easily be identified and it was great to see proper hellebores, cyclamen, Calamintha nepeta - never seen that in the wild before - Aruncus, Golden Rod and Asters just all sorts of things, plus carpets of Colchicums in the meadow areas.  Japanese Knotweed and Himalayan Balsam were both there unfortunately - one wonders which Balkan Plant Hunter brought those back or did they spread from here??? Birds possibly

The Soca Valley is also very interesting historically having witnessed one of the bloodiest campaigns in WW1 - half a million Italians died trying to beat the Austro Hungarian Alliance over some land, in the most dreadful conditions high up on the sheer limestone faces of the Julian/Carniolan Alps.  A pointless campaign and seeing the terrain at first hand it was hard to imagine how either side made any progress - standing up would have been hard enough.  Worth reading about and I am now reading Farewell to Arms as Hemingway drove an Italian ambulance during the campaign. Our last day took us to the dear little town of Radolvjica where we found The Bee Museum - a quite fascinating place - the Slovenians are really into bee keeping - the have Carniolan bees which are a soft grey colour and everywhere sells Med - honey!  Mr Horta in his element studying their completely different techniques and beautiful hives.

Returning to UK we found the garden thoroughly happy from the rain with dahlias having a good go again and the grass had actually grown!  The country seems to have been very divided through the summer as parts of UK have had masses of rain, some about the right amount and just this tiny corner has suffered from a severe shortage - not now though!  And just when we are doing the second village pond restoration and actually wanted to work in a dry pond.  I imagine that the ground is so hard that as yet, the water is finding it hard to soak in, and if we have no more significant rain over the next fortnight, I think they will dry out again.

It is bulb planting season and yesterday at a jolly dog training gathering we were discussing doing bulb lasagnes - I have never done this myself though I do think it’s fun to add in something like one of the special Grape Hyacinth varieties to give a splash of blue - there are several available that are not the invasive common type that take over.  I have also used the little Tete a Tete narcissi - Little Minnow or Jack Snipe for early colour - the secret is the bigger and later the bulb, the lower down the lasagne they must go.  Avon Bulbs usually get my orders as their selection is unusual and I find of very good quality.

More hedgecutting yesterday - all the yew in the veg garden is now done, and all the box hedging between terrace and lawn.  I have made a radical decision while away to take out all the box between the two topiary pigs, and opposite between the snail and the ball as I am constantly fighting blight on these two “runs” - for some reason it never really affects other stretches, and I wonder if it is something to do with herbaceous plants often slightly smothering the top of it in summer and a lack of air circulation.  Instead I am planning to edge each bed with a run of 30 x 60cm slabs so the plants fall onto that rather than the lawn, and have them set flush to the turf so no edging either - all part of the easing up programme to ensure we can continue to look after the garden when the limbs are aching a bit more!

Great news on Mavis, apart from the fact that her dinky little retrousse nose has a horrible blemish on it which I can only put down to a spider or insect bite.  Not there first thing yesterday, but very much there by mid morning, rather like a horrid flat burn blister, peeling skin at one end, and a sort of crater like edge to it.  She doesnt seem unduly fussed but it looks a bit weird.  Luckily she is off to the vet on Friday for her booster and to have the swabs done for her DNA/genetic testing re puppies - quite good value for once - the Kennel Club offer the service for a relatively decent price - 4 tests in one. But the great news yesterday was the retrieve and delivery of cold game - absolutely lovely and gentle.  Some of the handling with the wind in her face was somewhat wayward but we can keep working on that.  The most important thing is she is delivering beautifully and I can go off picking up with a happy heart!

Masses to do outside - time to do all the ramblers - rose arch included, finish the box and yew of which probably another day in total to do.  Sow some winter salads, lambs lettuce etc before soil temperatures drop.  Plant garlic - coming this week.  Frost possible tomorrow night so if the asparagus turns yellow I shall cut it down to ground as its flopping all over the place.  Wallflowers perfect for putting in the containers.  They are now emptied ready and the bulbs come next week.  Some herbaceous to cut back.  Constant warfare on squirrels (an explosion of the beastly things this year) and rooks from raiding the walnuts - windfalls of apples and pears to process. Planning what comes out of the big border and how and what to put in - have a good selection of treasures I have bought this summer - Agastache, Thalictrum and Nepeta nuda from Beth Chatto - lots of white and William Guinness Aquilegias to dot about that I sowed from seed in spring.  Some whacky pokers that a client rejected which I rather like!, all these should fill the spaces left by the taking out of a huge yellow Verbascum - too dominant - and the Crocosmia Lucifer which to be honest I am tired of and it smothers a number of things.  The new dahlias are a hit but smaller than advertised so they will come forwards next year.  Need to cut long shoots off Pyracanthas now to keep them neat.  Got the check the diverters on the water butts too as they must be full and I need to make sure the water is not just being wasted but is actually now going to the stream! Also need to get in the pond and having done the bindweed, now get down low and cut back the iris and other vegetation to make sure the stream flows and we have no blockages.

First day for the gang tomorrow - more for training than anything as not there officially which is rather nice so I can do some consolidation with Mavis.

HORTA

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Eighty-Eight: Rebellion ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Neji, Uchiha Fugaku ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Catch ‘Em All ] [ AO3 Link ]

Standing at the eastern entrance to Fuschia, a now twelve-year-old Sasuke keeps vigilant watch, a hand at his brow as he squints against the morning sun. She should be here any time, now…!

“Any sign of her yet?”

Jumping in surprise, Sasuke spins around to find Itachi walking up behind him. “Aniki? I thought you were training with otōsan this morning?”

“He had something come up.”

“Eh?”

“The professor’s here. I thought it rude to listen in, so I thought I’d come check on you.”

In spite of his next words, Sasuke pouts. “I’m not a kid, aniki - I’ve been a registered trainer for two years, now!”

“And you’re still my little brother.” Itachi gives a small, sly smile. “Why is it you clamor for my attention any other time, but when I give it, you’re suddenly opposed?”

“I like it when we get to train, or catch pokémon! You’re just trying to babysit me!” Arms fold, giving his elder brother a look. “Why don’t you go hang out in the Safari Zone, huh? You sure spend an awful lot of free time in there…”

Itachi’s expression cools, and a hint of color tinges the bridge of his nose. “...it’s good research. There’s a lot of rare pokémon in there.”

“That’s not all that’s in there, is it…?”

“If you’re so keen to be rid of me, then perhaps I’ll go do just that.”

“Fine!”

Snorting, Itachi manages to ruffle Sasuke’s hair before turning to leave, chuckling at his brother’s squawk of indignation. “I’ll see you later.”

Muttering under his breath and trying to smooth his hair (and...really only making it worse), Sasuke harrumphs and turns back around, watching the road.

It’s been over six years since he met Hinata in Cerulean when his father took him and his brother up with him on business. Since then, they’ve used his Pidgey (now a Pidgeotto) to send mail back and forth as often as possible to stay in touch.

As far as Sasuke is concerned, she’s pretty much his best friend.

And now, she’s finally getting to visit in person!

Her elder cousin Neji is on his pokémon journey, and is heading to Fuchsia to challenge Sasuke’s father Fugaku for the Soul Badge. And he promised to be her guide (and protector) on the routes down to Fuschia.

Normally someone twelve years old could probably handle the journey alone...but Hinata’s father, Hiashi, still refuses to let her have a pokémon of her own.

Sasuke, however...has planned a little rebellion.

He knows well from his own explorations that, with a good enough rod, one can catch a Goldeen to the west on Route Eighteen. And with a late mother who once ran the water-type gym of Cerulean, what better pokémon could be better for Hinata’s first?

Hiashi might get angry, but darn it, Sasuke can’t stand knowing she’s missing out on having bonds with pokémon! He loves his own team to pieces - he wants Hinata to get that same chance.

Lost in his thinking, he jolts as movement catches his eye. Down the road, two figures finally come into view.

Is it them?

“Sasuke-kuuun!”

Brightening, Sasuke grins. “Hinata-chaaan!” Breaking into a run, he crosses the distance as Hinata does the same, meeting in the middle as they both skid to a stop.

For a moment, they linger in an awkward hesitation. Should they...shake hands? High five? Or…?

Making up their minds for the both of them, Hinata takes a leap (literally and figuratively) and latches onto Sasuke in a tight hug. “I’ve m-missed you…!”

Stumbling back half a step, Sasuke balks, flushing pink before carefully bringing up arms to return the hold. “I...I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Letting go, she slings her backpack off her back, rummaging under the flap before drawing something out.

Sasuke’s eyes go wide.

“I brought them back! I thought it’s h-high time they got to go home. They’ve kept me company for a long time…”

Softening with a small smile, Sasuke accepts the Bulbasaur plush. “...they look just the same as when I gave them to you…”

“I’ve been very c-careful with them! I didn’t want them to get dirty, o-or torn.”

After a moment, Sasuke glances aside, looking a little sheepish. “I, er...I guess I’m a little old for pokédolls, but...I’ll take them home later. Could you…?”

Hinata just giggles, agreeing and - for now - putting the doll back in her pack..

Seeing Neji still a ways behind, Sasuke then leans in conspiratorially. “Besides...I’m gonna get you something better than a plush to take home with you…!”

Blinking large eyes, it takes Hinata a second...and then they go wide. “B-but -?!”

“Shh!” Standing back upright, Sasuke looks to her cousin. “You’re Neji, right? Uchiha Sasuke.”

“Hinata-sama has told me all about you,” is Neji’s stiff reply.

“Yeah? Same.”

The boys seem to size each other up before Hinata tugs on Neji’s arm. “N-ne, we better get to the gym. Didn’t you want to talk to the leader before it got too late in the day…?”

Still looking haughty, Neji nonetheless softens when he glances to his cousin. “...yes, that’s true.”

“I’ll take you,” Sasuke offers, brushing aside the cool introduction. Neji’s not who he wants to see, anyway.

“Thank you.”

The trio make their way across town to the gym, where Fugaku is just finishing up talks with the pokémon professor. Glancing to them, Fugaku gives a rugged grin. “I’ll send you an email later, professor. Have a safe flight home.”

“I will!”

Once the floor is cleared, Fugaku folds his arms. “So...here for the challenge?”

Neji steps forward. “...yes sir. And, if you’re willing, some training.”

A curious brow perks. “Hm...well, we’ll see how you fare. But first...you’ll have to find your way to me. And, past my trainers!”

As one, the half dozen prequel trainers emerge, and arrange themselves.

Neji frowns. “Find my way…?”

“There’s unseeable walls,” Sasuke boasts, grinning. “And to get to the leader, you’ll have to navigate them, and the trainers. It won’t be easy…!”

There’s a cool glance over, then a determined look as Neji faces his goal. “...very well.”

“Neji-nīsan...would it be all right if - if I go with Sasuke-kun now?”

“You don’t want to watch my battle…?”

Hinata hesitates. “I...I do…”

“We’ll be back in a few,” Sasuke promises. “Besides, you’ve got other trainers to face first, remember? Do that first - I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spare...if you even make it that far.”

“...all right then. But you must keep Hinata-sama safe.”

“Of course.”

Permission given, the two watch as Neji takes tentative steps forward before heading back out the door.

“Did you mean what I think you meant earlier?” Hinata quickly demands, looking to Sasuke eagerly.

“I’m gonna catch you a pokémon.”

“...but...my father -”

“Doesn’t have to know! Hinata...a pokémon is a friend - one that grows with you! It’s not fair that your father is keeping that from you.” Sasuke gives her a stern look. “It’ll be a water type - you can go out north of town sometimes and let them swim around! He doesn’t have to know - not until you’re old enough to put your foot down and do what you wanna do! You’re old enough to be a trainer if you want. He can’t stop you!”

“Yes he can!”

“Then you can just run away! Back here, and stay with us,” Sasuke sniffs, clearly thinking it’s a foolproof plan. “My brother knows someone in the Safari Zone - she can teach you! Maybe even give you some work in the park! And you could stay at my house, or we could go on our own adventure! Aniki’s gonna be the next gym leader, so I can do whatever I want, too!”

Hinata looks a bit awed. “I...guess, maybe…”

“Well, first: let’s go get you a pokémon! I know just what one to get!” Taking her hand, Sasuke tugs Hinata out toward the west end of town, and out into Route Eighteen. “There’s a pond out here where you can find ‘em!”

They slow to a stop at the water’s edge, and Sasuke takes his rod out of his bag, snapping the pole together and baiting the line. “Okay...I’ll have to battle them to weaken them first. You stay over there!”

“O-okay!”

Once he’s sure Hinata’s out of harm’s way, Sasuke casts his line...and waits.

Fishing, of course, is a game of patience. There’s a few nibbles first, and then he pulls up a Krabby...not what he’s looking for. And then, finally, he hooks the right one!

“Whoa!”

Up with a splash comes a Goldeen!

Eyes round, Hinata watches as Sasuke calls on his Pidgeotto, battling with Wing and Quick Attacks.

“All right! Pokéball, go!”

With a toss, Sasuke lands the throw dead center, and the Goldeen vanishes. The ball wiggles...wriggles...and then, goes still!

“Yeahhh, I got it!”

Jogging up as Sasuke retrieves the ball, Hinata balks as he hands it to her. “Go on, throw it!”

“Um…” Looking unsure, Hinata eventually gives it a try. Out pops Goldeen into the water, looking up to their new trainer.

“...wow…!”

“Wanna name ‘em?”

“I...I don’t know! I’m not really, um...prepared…”

“That’s okay, you can do it later.” Sasuke shows her how to retrieve them, and then offers, “Just keep the ball in your bag - don’t show it to anybody!”

“I won’t!”

Together they jog back to the gym, just in time to see Neji approach the leader. His pokémon look a bit worse for wear.

“You can do it!” Hinata calls, drawing his gaze and earning a tired smile.

Fugaku releases his own team, and though it’s close...in the end, Neji can’t quite muster it. His last party member faints, and he falls to his knees.

“...I…”

Recalling his own, Fugaku eyes the boy critically. “...you know...you show great promise, my boy. Your strategizing is top-notch, especially for one your age. I think…” He glances up to his son and Hinata. “...it would be good for the two of you to spend a little time in Fuchsia. Hinata can enjoy herself a bit longer, and you and I can do a little training.”

That lifts Neji’s head, eyes wide. “...really?”

“Think you’ll make it worth my while?”

“Y...yes, sir!”

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

The two Hyūga join the Uchiha family for dinner, agreeing to stay a few more days than planned as Hinata sends her father a message.

Seated beside his brother, Itachi leans in. “So...how did it go?”

“Good. I got just what I wanted.”

“I’m glad. You’ll have to help her get started training tomorrow while Neji is busy.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I might stop and help...depends on how busy the Safari Zone is,” Itachi replies, smirking as Sasuke pouts.

“Tch…whatever.”

     Gosh this ended up longer (and later) than I intended! So this is a sequel that goes back alllll the way to day eighteen, where Hinata and Sasuke met in Cerulean City! I've wanted to do a follow-up to it for a long time, and this prompt seemed to fit well!      Goodness only knows how Hiashi's going to react to all of this, but...well, Sasuke seems to think he's got it all figured out. Should be fine, right?      ...riiiiight.      Anyway, it's super late, I need to get to bed! Thanks for reading!

[abzzz3]

Fairy Floss and Carnival Lights

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: A little angst and a bit of fluff

Word Count: 1,575

Summary: The reader unexpectedly meets Sebastian at a Carnival and it brings back lost of feelings that never really went away.

Author’s Notes: I got the idea for this from ‘Don’t Turn Around’ by Amy Shark and it’s my first Sebastian/Bucky fic so please bare with me. Feedback is encourged and tags/requests are open.

________________________________________________

The lights of the rides twinkled in the night sky, contracting the white glow of the stars with their golden and multi coloured bulbs. Around you was thousands of people enjoying themselves, running, laughing, screaming and chatting with their friends as they made their way to their next destination. You currently stood back from one of the many prize games, watching your cousin stick his tongue out concentrating and your aunt try to help him pick up one of the floating ducks with his ‘fishing rod’. With how busy you were lately due to filming the latest season of the current show you were Assistant Director to, you hadn’t seen much of your family and this outing was definitely needed, but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander, as well as your gaze, thinking about the one person you wished you could see above everyone else.

Sebastian Stan had swept you off of your feet the moment you met him on Once Upon A Time and for a long time after that you both just talked and got to become great friends. Then you finally thought you were ready to ask him out when he just had to go and get himself a girlfriend. To be honest, you didn’t actually know if the girl you saw him with was his girlfriend but even if they weren’t you still got jealous every time he talked about her, so you just never asked about her or that date you had desperately wanted at that stage. These days you still missed him, seeing and talking to him a lot less than you used to, partially due to conflicting schedules and partially because you pushed him away, feeling rejection that never actually came but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking he would never see you the same way you see him.

You had seen each other from time to time, at a friend’s wedding, out with others, and even at a birthday party. You were gazing off into the distance when you saw a capped man buying some food from one of the many scattered food trucks. His face was mostly covered and he wore a jacket and long pants but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew who it was. Only once he had paid and turned away from the truck did you see his face and your heart stopped, because it was Sebastian in incognito mode. You saw him walking in another direction and your heart clenched; you still had feelings for him and it sucked every time you saw him, being reminded that through all the years he had never asked you out and was so obviously not interested. Part of you loved it though; you loved that flutter in your stomach and even the sweatiness of your palms because this was the closest you had gotten to real feelings for someone, that wasn’t just curiosity or infatuation, since high school.

“Go”

You jumped and turned your head to see your aunt standing beside you, one hand holding Conner’s and the other holding the stuffed toy he had just won. You had told her everything over the years, she was more of a sister than an aunt and she would listen to every little thought that popped into your head when you needed someone to talk to.

“Just go and say ‘hi’, we’ll be around here for a little while I think” She encouraged, and so you took a deep breath and nodded

You jogged in the direction you had seen Sebastian head in and even when there were crowds of people in the way you could still see his head bobbing along in the same and opposite direction as everyone else’s around him.

“Sebastian!” You called, though it came out disconnected as though you weren’t aware you were about to call his name

He paused and turned around, mouth full of stuffed potato, his eyes grazing over the masses to assess where the voice came from. Then he saw you jogging towards him, slowing to a walk when he saw you, and smiled widely while gulping down the mouthful of food so he could speak without spitting food at you.

“(Y/N)!, what are you doing here? I thought you didn’t finish filming for another couple weeks” He greeted, pulling you into a warm hug

You hugged him back, one hand over his jacket and the other sneaking it’s way in. His body felt toast warm and his signature cologne filled your nose, silently making your core tightened as you loved a man who smelt good. You’d never tell him though that his cologne turned you on a little.

“It finished two weeks ago actually, I think you’re running a little behind at the moment” You joked as the pair of you pulled away and moved to the side so as to get out of the way of everyone else.

“What are you doing here?” You asked

“I really wanted to go to a carnival while I had some time off so I checked if there were any on around the place and found this one” He explained “Are you here with anyone?”

You nodded “Yeah, my aunt and her son. They’re over by the games right now” You pointed in the direction that they were in, though they were completely out of site

“I suppose you’ll be getting back to them then” Sebastian commented, and you almost thought you saw a glimpse of unhappiness at that

“Not if you don’t want me to just yet” You offered, not wanting to leave him this quickly

His eyes lit up slightly at your offer and he nodded, offering his arm “Well then, care to accompany me to the spinning tea cups?” He asked

You linked your arm with his, a large smile now appearing on your face for the second time since catching his attention tonight.

“I’d be honoured, sir” You answered, the two of you chuckling and making your way towards the children’s rides

The next few hours were spent catching up, trying every possible ride, eating sweet food and just being in each other’s company. You knew this was a bad idea because you had completely fallen for him all over again and were just going to have to leave at the end of the night and not see him again for months at a time. You both found a semi-quiet corner and sat on the grass, under a pole mounted speaker which played music.

“It’s really great to see you again (Y/N)” Sebastian said, picking at his fairy floss (cotton candy) as he spoke “It’s kinda sucked not speaking to you as often as we used to”

You felt a pang of guilt in your chest, but you didn’t say anything, leaving you both in silence as you watched the action around you. Sebastian then decided to stand up and hold out his hand towards you, a warm look on his face.

“You love this song, dance with me”

You hadn’t realized it until now but a new song had started and it was one by your favourite artist. You blushed, looking away from his outstretched hand

“There’s people here Seb” You resisted, getting shy

“So what? We’re in a dimly lit corner and they all have better things to do than watch us” He insisted

You looked up at him and slowly put your hand in his, getting up with his help and placed your other hand on his shoulder. He placed his spare hand on your waist and the warmth of his touch radiated through your shirt and into your skin. You both just stood there, swaying back and forth in a circle as you relaxed and eased into the movements.

“This would almost make our evening a date” You commented, silently prodding at the idea to see his reaction but what came next surprised you, after all the thoughts your mind had put into your head but now.

“Do you want it to be?” He asked, almost whispering

You looked up at him but continued to dance, trying to detect what he was thinking. Was he joking? Was he poking fun at you? Was he just being curious? Or, did he actually want this to be your first date?

“Do you?” You asked, cautiously

“I’d like to . . .” He admitted

Now you stopped moving, disbelief all over your face, along with hope in your eyes. Had you been just slightly less emotionally unstable you would have started crying, but you stopped yourself and took a deep breath

“If I’d known this would be a date I wouldn’t have worn the same jumper I’ve been sleeping in all week” You admitted with a small chuckle

Sebastian laughed and pulled you into a tight hug, kissing the side of your head. You hugged him back, your chest so full of happiness you could have died now and still had a smile on your face.

“I’ll give you some notice next time” He replied, pulling out of the hug all too soon for your liking “And I’ll take you somewhere they don’t serve the food out of trucks”

You smacked him lightly “Truck food is the best food” You argued

He smiled and wrapped and arm around your shoulder, both walking out of your dim corner with fairy floss buckets in tow “I have so much to show you”