#i needed daisy buchanan to be there and she is. this is the only other thing

[ethersierra]

I need lady godwin to hit gatsby with a car. it would be so beautiful and symbolic

[mamirhodessxox]

Little party never killed nobody

Jay Gatsby x Fem!Model Reader

Based in the 1920’s

Desc- Jay & His wife held yet another party at the manor but this time with a little spice, he specifically added in a runway just to have his wife reveal herself to the guests in dazzling way

Contents: Fluff, Alcohol, Smoking, Gatsby throwing obnoxious parties, Gatsby being Gatsby, Y/N serving cunt and telling of Tom & Daisy.

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

For the last 3 years Gatsby was known for throwing parties & obnoxious ones at that, at first they were to impress Daisy but once he met you he knew she had nothing compared to you, you were known throughout New York for being straight forward with people & modeling the top fashion trends of the 20’s that Daisy wish she could participate in.

You two got together almost immediately after meeting and now tonight marks your 1 year anniversary with Gatsby and he only hosts his parties now for you and only you. To hell with Daisy’s impression of his parties. He wanted you to make a grand entrance tonight so the man rented out a whole runway JUST for you. The two of you walked around the mansion checking out tonights set up. Your arm locked in with his as you held a martini in your free hand “How do you feel darling? Would you like to add in your own flair my dear?” Jay muttered in your ear making you smile up at him “Nothing could be more perfect Jay. Y’know you don’t need to throw these extravagant events for me my dear. I’m already impressed with your admiration for me.” He hummed and shook his head “Nonsense. You’re my wife darling it’s my job to do all the theatrics for you. Now, let me show you the outstanding runway just for you my dear.”

Hours go by & night had finally invaded the sky as well as the galaxies stars, the house was practically lit up in a spew of colors with music blaring throughout the East egg, multiple guests welcoming themselves inside your humble abode, Gatsby finally announced your name to reveal yourself to the guests who adored you the most but never as much as him, You walked your way down the glittering runway as you wore the most expensive flapper dress with sequin & other glitzy accessories acquired to the dress swinging around while a feather was attached to the headband you wore upon your head.

You soon walked off and attached yourself to Gatsby with a grin while placing a kiss on his neck “Oh my dearest one you’ve never failed to impress me” he grinned and ran his hands down your back before spinning you around “I hope you don’t mind dear but I have invited over some friends, Y/N this is our neighbor Nick.” You smiled “why darling of course I wouldn’t mind, Half of the city is at the house anyway” You smiled and held out your hand to his friend “It’s a pleasure to meet you dear Nick” he smiled and shook your hand

“And you as-well Mrs Gatsby, I hope you wouldn’t mind terribly but I’ve brought my Cousin & her husband with me, Daisy & Tom buchanan to be specific” You knew who they were & they were your least favorite type of people, You hummed distastefully as Gatsby held you close as he took the wheel “Why of course not, why don’t we all find somewhere quiet and catch up hm? What do you think dear?”

You looked up at him & smiled in approval. The 5 of you made your way to the library & Jay was seated talking with Tom addressing his condescending remarks while you stood behind Jay staring down Daisy before kissing his cheek before she ran her mouth. “Perhaps it’s classless for a woman to stroke up on her husband in-front of guests no?” Tom quirked an eyebrow up at his wife as Nick cleared his throat uncomfortably while you decided to play hooky & sit on Jays lap embracing his arms around your waist before you went off.

“Classless? No dear I don’t believe i’m the one lacking class You see, the only woman here who lacks class is You daisy darling, You also lack a sense of self respect for yourself as-well, You willingly married a man who lacks respect for the other race because he thinks only white people are the ones to be in control, You also married a man who has no respect for you either, I’m sure everyone in this very room know about his scandalous affairs with another woman besides You.” Jay cleared his throat “My apologies she’s ju-“ you look around at him and glare “Do not interrupt me Jay I have not finished speaking. It is also classless to be a gold digger that only marries men for the glitz & glimmer and also leaving another man behind because he was busy defending this country, Being a gold digger that lacks self respect is in-fact classless so do not compare me to you ever again especially in the home you’ve been invited to Daisy, it’s a privilege to be in the same room as me and be in my house, It’s a privilege i’m even speaking to you.”

Daisy sat there in utter shock while Tom stood up to smack you but you stood up as-well “I wish a brute like you would lay his hands on me, Your just a dumb classless man who was born into money instead of working for it like Jay, Your a man who lacks respect for the opposite race and women, your a dumb man that reads big books with long words to make you feel smart when you lack intelligence now rid you and your wife’s presence out of my house before I have you removed.” Jay stood behind you with his hands against your shoulders as he watched the wedded couple leave while Nick stood in amazement “Your the first person to tell them off like that.” Jay chuckled and wrapped his arms around you “She’s a fire cracker isn’t she? She’s quite an honest woman I’ll say.”

You hum and turn to wrap your arms around your husband as he presses his lips against you while the light of the fireworks popping outside of the library’s window shines against you two. Nick hummed “Yes well I suppose I should make it home.” You two weren’t even listening so he left anyway. Gatsby pressed your body against a desk and ended the night off with true excitement between you two before the sun came up.

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @puppy-princ3ss

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[ihaveforgortoomany]

More Great Gatsby parallels/ comparisons in Reverse 1999 speculation (spoilers for current global story chapters)

While the Great Gatsby isn't strictly named or mentioned in the game, more focus on Fitzgerald's other work Tender is the Night as the second chapter. As seen with the last line of the novel being used in the introduction of the game we can see parallels between characters in the game (Vertin and Schneider more notably) that potentially act as not only nods to the 1920s but further explore their characters.

I may make an analysis and comparisons to Tender is the Night once I read the book (at some point hopefully)

(Aka lemme put my mountains of essays on the Great Gatsby to use lol)

Vertin

It can be considered that Vertin shares some similarities to the characters Jay Gatsby and Nick Caraway (the Narrator).

Gatsby - He is characterised by his unrelenting pursuit of his dream ("the green light") of reclaiming the past through rekindling of his relationship with Daisy Buchanan. While of course Vertin arguably pursues to reclaim the future and the truth, its easy to see the unrelenting optimism and determinism both characters share.

Optimism most seen in younger Vertin in chapter 3, blind optimism and desire to see the outside world that leads to tragedy - the Breakaway Incident. This optimism is still here in current Vertin, now backed by the suitcase fam (we love found family here)

Nick - He is the narrator of the story, our eyes into the life and death of Gatsby and the people around him. He becomes the observer of the hedonism of the Jazz Age/ 1920s through Gatsby's parties, and just like a narrator is largely unable to stop the events that lead to tragedy.

Vertin as the Timekeeper and our protagonist fulfils this role in a sense: a role designed to record the eras and "spare no feelings" mirrors Nick's own desire to remain separate to others affairs, but inevitably becomes entangled in the narrative: while Vertin is instructed by the Foundation to just watch, Vertin still has desires to seek the truth "of her own will". Vertin becomes the observer unable prevent the deaths of others, the Breakaway Incident, the countless people who have been taken by the storm.

Schneider

This is Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of Scot Fitzgerald and whose deteriorating marriage and relationship is explored in the novel Tender is the Night.

You can probably see similarities in Schneider's appearance to her, reflecting the "Flapper movement" of the 1920s.

(While she is probably the main influence to Schneider, alongside the references to the Italian mafia and the Godfather, I need to read Tender is the Night for a closer analysis)

While I don't think Schneider has direct parallels to the character of Daisy Buchanan, comparisons can be drawn with how Gatsby viewed Daisy as the American Dream, the idea that anything is possible with enough hard work and struggle - all ultimately futile and doomed.

For Vertin, this is the belief and renewed hope in the suitcase granting shelter from the Storm, however as the end of Chapter Two has showed us Vertin is more akin to Noah and his Ark than a Messiah:

While the Messiah promises the salvation of all, Noah's Ark can only grant safety to the few.

Others

This description of FMN could also vaguely reference the intial impressions of Gatsby we get before met by partygoers in Chapter 3 of the novel. ("German Spy", "I heard he killed a man")

(I placed it here because this isn't very concrete)

Summary - Have an ark of oranges

[anikab-31]

I will never understand how people still think Conrad is BETTER for Belly than Jeremiah. Conrad was Daisy Buchanan and Belly was Gatsby. Which is funny because of all the Gatsby references this season. Jeremiah always loved Belly. Everybody is saying no Jere only started liking Belly the “summer she turned pretty” but did you see the flashbacks, Jeremiah has always been in love with Belly but always put her before him even if it meant not being with her. Conrad played with Belly’s heart all of season 1. Them almost kissing and then Conrad being an ass about it. When Jeremiah and Belly kissed Jere checked with Belly the next day to make sure they were still okay. Both boys Jeremiah and Conrad thought the Debutant Ball was stupid only difference is that when Belly asked Jere he agreed even though nobody thought even his own mother that he would ever go to one. And everybody is saying how Jere reacted to finding out Belly and Conrad kissed was over the top and dramatic but when Conrad found out Belly and Jere had kissed before hand he was like okay… flash forward to season 2 episode 8 and Conrad’s reaction to seeing Belly and Jeremiah kissing. Yes Jere had a reaction to finding out Belly and Conrad kissed because Belly and him had been “together” even if they weren’t dating. And Conrad’s reaction was so much worse this season when him and Belly were no longer together. Also Conrad essentially slut shaming his brother, not okay. And when Jeremiah wanted to keep his distance from Belly when they went to find Conrad and he wanted to stay mad he couldn’t. But Conrad’s reaction to seeing Belly at the summer house : “What’s she doing here” like wtf do you think you are. Conrad doesn’t communicate with Belly, he thinks he knows her so well but in reality he really doesn’t. While Jeremiah is always there for Belly and communicates with her. Also Conrad telling both Belly and Jeremiah to “grow up” when in reality he needs to grow up. Even Belly told Jeremiah that they had grown up and things were different. And the whole funeral thing when Conrad tells Belly he knew it was a mistake starting something with her and that entire thing like why was everybody only mad at Belly, Conrad was also very much in the wrong here. Belly wasn’t trying to make that day about her. Susannah was literally Belly’s second mom. Susannah’s death was hard for all of them. And I’m not denying that Belly and Conrad had some cute moments but they were so toxic for each other and manipulative. The both of them. And Jere was also a bit “toxic” don’t get me wrong but if you compare how the two of them treat Belly it’s clear who treats her better. And in episode one of season two when Belly calls Jeremiah, she calls him first, Jere was like oh did Conrad not answer but Belly called him not Conrad. Belly and Jeremiah were always best friends and that’s the best way to turn into something more. So excuse me for being TEAM JEREMIAH all the way, since episode one.

[turbulentscrawl]

Margaretha Zelle General HCs

I had to format and post this via my phone, so apologies if it ends up not looking as clean as usual!

-She’s a real Daisy Buchanan sort. That is, she's in this performance-based mental place where she covers up her unmet emotional needs by building her persona on her unmet financial desires. Obtaining wealth and glamor is her primary focus, and she’s willing to take any number of avenues to get to it, be it abandoning her only family and eloping, or traveling to a mysterious manor that promises nothing but some vague, grand prize. On some level, she is aware of her self-deception, but she pushes that acknowledgement down too.

-She does not admit to much of the pain or neglect in her life, regardless of whether she was receiving or dealing it. (And there has been plenty of both.) Her aunt and uncle would make do without her. Sergei hurting her was a phase, it would pass, they would make it big. Even now, the manor will someday provide wealth and escape. Someday, one day…. She survives on a bit of delusion, on thick, choking, toxic optimism, and the shine of gold in her eye.

-Underneath all the superficialness, Margaretha genuinely desires to be loved. Sergei loved her (or so she believed) and it doesn’t seem to have mattered to her whether she loved him back. He was mostly another opportunity for her to escape her old life, to try and find freedom from a poor fishmonger’s life. She even says in her undelivered letter home that she doesn’t trust him. Whether that’s because some part of her suspected what he really was, or because she planned not to stick around long enough for trust to matter, I can’t say. But him loving her was a nice bonus regardless.

-She might have some actual feelings for Joker, but she hasn’t let herself develop any real emotional attachment to him. What he’s capable of offering her is gentle comfort, a helping hand, but he can’t provide the high-life she desires, can’t help bury her feelings under jewelry and gold, so she doesn’t allow him be an option. But his feelings for her do continue to be useful and she’s not entirely ashamed to use that.

-If Margaretha ever reached the place of wealth and comfort she desires, I think she would look back and feel a sense of regret for everything that it took to get there. She’d never admit it aloud, never apologize to anyone, but she would spend the rest of her life quietly choking down regrets and wondering about her own morality, her own worth as a person.

-She’s the kind of person to give “little things” away, but hoard the big to herself. A gentle touch, a kind word, and kiss on the cheek, these things are easy and harmless to give. They make people feel better without detracting from her own goals. Physical Affection and Acts of Service are therefore her preferred love languages to give. To receive, she of course likes Gifts, and is rather fond of Acts of Service as well. Physical affection is alright, but because she gives it easily, she tends to think other people do as well and doesn’t place as much worth in it. Someone who makes her feel safe gets some extra points in that category, though.

-Partially due to the above, she’s very good with children. She’s never been sure if she wants her own, but she finds them cute and relatively easy to deal with. It helps that children rarely have any malice in their hearts, too, so she can forego a lot of her subconscious fears.

-She’s a fast learner, at least in regards to physical skills. She’s had to pick up a lot of new talents and adjust to things quickly since leaving home, I order to pull her own weight in the various communities she joins, and that quick-learning mindset has stuck with her. She’s fairly athletic as well, though she’s not really doing any heavy lifting.

-Due to Sergei having been a belligerent drunk, she’s a bit nervous around the combination of men and alcohol. She’s got no reservations about sharing a nice glass of wine with the other ladies in the manor, though!

[tendrflesh]

*     ◟    :    〔   margaret qualley  ,      demi-woman   +   she/they    〕   taylor ryan ,      some say you’re a  twenty - five  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  perceptive  and  evasive,  one can’t help but think of  i’m your man  by mitski  when you walk by.    are you still a    empress   /     principal ballerina  at   the snake den   /  nya ballet,     even with your reputation as the the opulent?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and  skin glittering under the moonlight, doe eyes looking up at you, ribbons flowing in the wind, diamond rings over gloved hands.   although we can’t help but think of juliet capulet (romeo & juliet), daisy buchanan (the great gatsby), ophelia (hamlet), sansa stark (game of thrones).    whenever we see you down these rainy streets. ’

BASICS

NAME: taylor isabella ryan (originally kowalski) NICKNAMES: none JOB: nyc principal ballerina, empress in the snake den BIRTHDAY: april 19th ZODIAC: aries sun SEXUALITY: pansexual  GENDER: demi-woman, she/they RELIGION: non practicing catholic THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: perceptive, inviting, demanding THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: evasive, vain, needy ENNEAGRAM: 7w8 MYERS-BRIGGS: enfj AESTHETIC:  skin glittering under the moonlight, doe eyes looking up at you, ribbons flowing in the wind, diamond rings over gloved hands CHARACTER INSPO:  juliet capulet (romeo & juliet), daisy buchanan (the great gatsby), ophelia (hamlet), sansa stark (game of thrones) LIKES: DISLIKES:

pinterest | playlist

WANTED CONNECTIONS

serious ex (or ex fiance?)

frenemies

someone she has charmed for her own needs

a mentor of some sort

flings/fwbs

current connections

ex-husband: bash owens (they were young and dumb)

casual fling: bash owens

siblings: raven & donovan kowalski

FAST FACTS

youngest sister of donovan and raven

is the only sibling that 'made it'

was eventually adopted by a very rich family who gave taylor everything they could ever want

distances herself from her past/siblings to keep up with her 'princess' persona she adopted

though given everything, she always wanted more, is also resentful of her parents and the life they easily lead

is a bit of a romantic at heart (or as romantic as she could)

lawful evil

has her own rules she follow, at the expense of others

on the prowl for more power hence the snake den

studied art for a while

was a dancer in her youth, now principal ballerina for nycb

considers herself classy & above others because of her money

father worked in government, mother was a philanthropist though she could have whatever she wanted, taylor still resents them...

self-obsessed and joined snake den, just because she should and seems to have a vendetta against everyone

more to come...

[realityhop]

"The more you’re in scarcity when it comes to women, the more quickly you will fall in love and the more easy it will be for women to wrap you around their fingers."

— Girls Chase, Male Biochemistry (2012)

"It’s hard to truly know anyone before you’re in a room with them, because our online selves are so curated and limited. […] The idea that the virtual world is better and easier to inhabit than the physical one is scarily seductive. Living in the real world comes with considerable risks, but the rewards are enormous too. We know that human touch is good for us, and spending too much time online exacerbates anxiety. When I was at school in the mid-1990s, sex education focused on pain, not pleasure. Sex was seen as frightening, and could lead to unwanted pregnancy and STIs. I wonder if we’ve focused so much on protecting children that we have made all relationships seem terrifying. We have done generations a disservice by neglecting to talk to them about the emotional growth and fulfilment that a positive relationship can bring. To progress, we need to acknowledge that the internet plays an enormous part in the way we meet people, and its role is growing. When it comes to safety and conduct, we’re keen to warn children away. We tell them to be wary of predators, and to know that they can never be sure who they’re talking to. This is sage advice, but perhaps it’s time to tell them how to recognise the good people who use the internet – and give them the skills and confidence to be prepared when they’re adults to take that relationship offline."

— Daisy Buchanan, Don’t fall for online-only love. It’s not the giddy real thing (2018)

"The emergence of a virtual wilderness does not compensate for the loss of the earthly one that humans are destroying; but it is like it in being unknowable by them. The new wilderness is a pathway leading beyond the borders of the human world. As Margulis and Sagan have written: ‘the Gaian meaning of technology reveals itself: as a human-mediated but not a human phenomenon, whose applications stand to expand the influence of all life on Earth, not just humanity’. As machines evolve, they will come – to use a way of speaking that long predates Christianity – to have souls. In the words of Santayana: ‘Spirit is itself not human; it may spring up in any life; it may detach itself from any provincialism; as it exists in all nations and religions, so it may exist in all animals, and who knows in many undreamt-of beings, and in the midst of what worlds?’ Throughout history and prehistory, animists have believed that matter is full of spirit. Why not welcome the living proof of this ancient faith?"

— John N. Gray, Straw Dogs: Thoughts on Humans and Other Animals (2002)

"A reader emailed me with the question, "What's the best way to get over falling in love with someone you met via online dating that you've actually never met in person?" Although I appreciate that the reader thinks she has a broken heart, I had to answer this way: Here is the good news. Getting over this person will not be difficult for you at all. Why do I say this? Because while I am sure that you think you are in love, you are not. […] Until the two of you get your bodies into the same room for a certain amount of time, you won't know if you love each other. Some might disagree with me, but here is the question I have. How can two people be in love if they have never touched each other?"

— Jackie Pilossoph, Is It Possible to Fall in Love With Someone You Have Only Met Online? (2015)

[forevertrack10]

*going to keep updating playlist but the vibe is real cute and "you get me" vibes*

Dan and Blair, you will always have a place in my heart, they just made sense. They could never be though because if Dan was Gossip Girl his storyline was always set up for him to end up with Serena, keeping him the perpetual outsider despite being the "ultimate insider".

//whole tangent (out of love)//---starts now------

It's clear that the writers really wanted the storyline to take heavy inspiration from The Great Gatsby with the central theme being the chronic need to fit into high society for love. Dan's character seems to take romantic inspo from Gatsby's grand gestures (creating GG) but through a Nick Carraway lens, (unassuming with a mix of judgement and awe). This means at its core the story had a clear direction for how it was always going to go, boy yearns for golden girl above his station and is willing to go to the extremes to be with her. The only distinction being that this story's mc ends up with his respective Daisy, except for, Gatsby never strayed... Dan does.

The story is really simple if Blair is not a romantic interest for Dan; she serves as just another obstacle for Serena and a reminder of why Dan has to save her. As Dan put so eloquently, Blair is "basically everything I hate about the upper east side." Blair is the perfect depiction- borderline caricature- of all the rigid standards Dan fails to match, the only difference between her and Serena, she knows this and completely embraces it. Blair doesn't hold back from classist remarks, knows her future is either true princess or American royalty, and keeps up with all the cut throat scheming involved in a high stakes world. Serena on the other hand, is complicit, and docile, and plays the role -as Daisy Buchanan would put it- of a "beautiful little fool", things just happen to her. She suffers from a system she has no control over time and time again but she also benefits from it just as often. It is because of her victim act and her ability to pretend to be detached from her wealth that makes Dan want to be with her, be her savior.

The problem in Serena and Dan's relationship always arose about their disparity in wealth, legacy, and status. He could save her from judgement or hard conversations for a night but she would always go back home to be a Vanderwoodsen, a Rhodes. She had a Midas touch of sorts, even if he liked her free fun-loving personality she would always have riches he did not, she would always be more than he was, and when he wouldn't measure up all they had left were golden memories, stiff, still, unmoving. They couldn't grow together.

Things were different with Blair though. Blair never denied any of her upper hands in life, never held back any venom she could spit (especially towards Dan), and when you peeled back the layers of her personality the first thing to come off was her class. She first develops a friendship with Dan as they deal with the perils of GG and her wrath against Serena, and Blair puts her privilege to work to fiercely protect the people close to her. Even before there were any romantic notions between them they find common ground and several shared interests such as films, visiting museums, and reading the same books. Dan never has to save her from her wealth; he only ever had to get to know the girl behind it. He finds that Blair was incredibly hard on herself, holding herself to the same impossibly standards he hated, but he loved her not in spite of it, but because of it. She was determined to be a powerful woman and ambitious for what she would make of her life and her mothers legacy, not because she was self-made but because she had something to uphold.

So, when they finally got together they complimented each other, and uplifted one another. If Dan didn't have the look or the know-how, Blair did. When she was with him she did everything to help him, and putting her Queen B status to use, made him a space to fit in. When Blair was collapsing under the pressure she put on herself Dan would talk her through it. He was a wordsmith and gave her all the affirmations she needed, gave her some time to not keep it all up in. Dan also had dropped his hate for the Upper East side class hierarchy in this time, because he was happy, and this messed with the storyline.

The creation of GG means it all has to be for something, someone, Serena, being with Blair meant it was for naught. It'd mean walking away, fitting in, not because of his own machinations but because he accidentally fell in love with a girl and not her status. Blair didn't fall for Dan because GG led her to him; she fell for him because they had built a friendship together. We see this especially after Blair's failed marriage to the prince; Dan puts Gossip Girl on hiatus, instantly. This happens again after the Blairs car accident with Chuck. Dan ceases GG whenever Blair is hurt; he doesn't have to be Gossip Girl to be with her, to help her. (and where does that leave gossip girl... our titular character?)

This means Dan was doomed by the narrative; Dan is Gossip Girl, that's the story. No social commentary is made if Dan happily settles down with the only woman on the Upper East side that could let him in. Serena, the ultimate golden girl, with the it-factor, who needed to be tamed with the monstrosity of Gossip Girl was his only true match. She, despite everything he couldn't compare to, easily controlled by the likes of Dan and the stories he could pen. Dan had written himself into the story and with the care-free untouchable girl, to be a part of a world she could/would never leave. This made Blair and Dan's relationship a blip to be smudged out but also the accidental better love story. (and one I made a playlist for!!) (It quite literally would lose the plot if Dan was GG and not w/ Serena so I get it but they wrote such a good enemies to disgruntled allies to best friends to lovers and for what!!!)

(I think Dan ending up w/ Serena is evil af tho bc idc if she was annoying, she did not deserve that problematic ass man. He tortured her for years!! got w her bff?? got mad at her for having money???? like love dan but bro hated herrrrr. but like that's his daisy, he did it all for her, huh)

[writing-in-april]

Dr Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (3/?)

Part three: the gift

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: The next meeting rolls around and Reader tries to get Spencer to open up in baby steps. Turns out he was more willing to let her in than she first expected.

Part One, Part Two

Series Masterlist

A/N: Heyyy this is my third part for Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde!!! It’s also the fifteenth installment of my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! The plot is finally about to pick up y’all!!!! I’ve got so many plans where this series is headed (though I don’t know necessarily where it’s going to end) and I’m really excited!!! This chapter brings in other references from non gothic literature as well which was fun to do- these references and metaphors are really fun to craft. I’m curious to see y’all’s reaction to this part- leave me an ask if you want here (I promise I won’t bite 🧛🏻‍♀️) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Soft dom Spencer that turns back into slightly mean dom Spencer, Public sex, Masturbation (F), Oral sex (M receiving), Face fucking, Reader has a nickname- I think that’s it let me know if there needs to be anything else

Main Masterlist Word Count: 4.1k 😱

A meeting of the classics was once again scrawled on the whiteboard when you entered the library. It had the usual time 7pm to 11:30pm written right underneath. Instantly you fell down the rabbit hole and into another world, reality was turned on its head whenever you opened those wooden doors. Every encounter you had in the shelves, in the reading rooms, and even at the information desk seemed like you were walking into a world crafted by a surrealist. Everything was just slightly twisted and turned to feel slightly off from the reality outside those doors. It oddly made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Each time a meeting rolled around you’d get an email notification a few weeks prior, informing you as to what the theme would be. The book club was already more extravagant than any other you had ever heard before, adding to the surrealist nature of where you were located. Last time was a somewhat lavish affair, this time it was coated in fleeting luxury.

Sure, the 1920s theme with the undeniable tinge of influence from The Great Gatsby would always lend itself to luxury, even with cheap decorations. But, the way the decor around you almost felt real told you exactly what your monthly entrance fee was going towards. You could complain about the steep price of admission, it could burn a hole into your wallet if you weren’t so careful. At any rate it did not matter, you were sure they wouldn’t care if you complained, and besides this was the only thing you really every splurged on. Plus there was the added aspect of the person you would no longer be able to indulge in if you let your membership lapse.

It was nice to treat yourself, get a taste of what it would be like to live basking in luxury 24/7. Flutes of champagne were passed around like hot cakes, admittedly they were non alcoholic after an incident a few months prior before you joined with some whiskey. It could have been a rumor fed to you by some of the vapid attendees to stir the pot so the library may cave to make their guests happy. You were going to keep your mouth shut because truth be told you didn’t mind that they were non alcoholic. You wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to be sober for Spencer.

Normally whenever a meeting rolled around you’d gladly be mingling with everyone around you. Even if personally you viewed some of their insights on whatever book they wished to discuss as shallow, seeing another’s perspective was always intriguing.

Something, namely someone, lurking in the shadows had your attention instead. It felt strikingly similar to the night of your first encounter, his eyes piercing into you, undressing you with them. The only thing that had changed is that you knew his name with some small added details. You didn't even know what type of Doctor he was, let alone what kind of man he was. But, you hoped tonight might change your prospects.

You had gotten a peek underneath the mask each time, just enough to pull you in closer. Whatever might lurk beneath, which still may be dangerous, for right now made you thrum with excitement. Spencer was just as surreal to you as the rest of the library, though he was definitely more shadowy than the others. It wouldn’t surprise you if he wasn’t real outside of here.

He could possibly just be a ghost trapped to roam the halls that instead of wanting to scare you, pleasured you. It was a silly thought for sure, but until he divulged more you struggled to convince yourself that he was real, even though his touch certainly did. The world was very different outside the library’s doors and you’d be content to be locked inside of it, that is if Spencer opened his own doors.

You circled each other for a while, neither of you talking to anyone, just staring with lust in your eyes. Tired of this cat and mouse game that you were unwilling to break out of stubbornness, he set down an empty ‘champagne’ flute to weave through the crowd to meet you.

No small talk or pleasantries came out of his mouth when he started your first conversation of the night, “At least you fit the theme this time.”

He had gestured to the dress you had chosen, a simple fringed red dress that very obviously was inspired by the era. It definitely gave you a sense of allure that leaned dark along with your dark lipstick, giving you your own cloak of mystery to match Spencer’s. At least there was a cloak for everyone else; Spencer could read you like an open book even with all your secrets. Spencer just had the ability to speed read them faster than any other human.

There was still depth to you, seemingly boundless, and certainly much more than the staple embodiment of a 1920s woman at a party being eyed at by man. You were no Daisy Buchanan that’s for sure, and Spencer was no Gatsby from what you have seen.

“As I told you last time I did fit the theme, Spencer.” You kept your lips shut tight about the fact that you had partially chosen this dress for him, picking a much more historically accurate style within your budget. Skating around the topic with ease you then teased, “Was that your way of complimenting my dress?”

“No…” That definitely meant yes, just by going off of the way he eyed your curves.

“At least you have it easy, you only have to throw on a suit, which is boring.” He snorted at that and didn’t disagree with your stinging jab at men’s fashion.

“That’s true, I don’t think I would want to see you in a boring suit, Shelley.” Inching closer to you so he possessively put a hand on your waist. He was close enough now that you could feel his breath on the exposed skin on your neck, a shiver trickling down your spine at that. His next words had a different reaction from you, your panties getting damp immediately after, “A dress has easier- access.”

The conversation turned from your typical banter into innuendos covered in mystery just like you both, with Spencer’s not being an act like you were trying to put on. You could let him do whatever he wanted to you again, which you thoroughly enjoyed, but there was a lingering fantasy you hadn’t voiced that had been in your head since he pinned you against the shelves.

“You didn’t let me reciprocate last time.” You whispered into his ear, your dirty intentions hidden by innocent words. The people around you had no idea what was going on, still milling about while you leaned in closer, only a few people looking over at you both curiously before moving on. Your next move was bold, wrapping your hand around his tie to pull him in closer, so you could keep your request a secret for his ears alone, “Will you allow me to return the favor?”

By the way his face twisted up at your words you knew you were testing a limit. All of your encounters thus far had been him touching you, not you touching him.

“Thought you would have forgotten about that by now.” This was his attempt to change the subject, to move on and expect that you’ll drop it just like him.

Everyone you knew called you stubborn for a reason, gripping his tie even harder you then doubled down, “Will you let me?”

It was highly unlikely that you were going to get a verbal response to your request, most likely you were about to get rejected, hard. You had tested your limits throughout your small time together. This however was entirely different and potentially over the line as to what Spencer would willingly allow.

Instead of shutting you out and shutting down he surprised you by opening his mouth to form the word, “Yes.”

With that you started to tug him out of the room, discreetly of course to not attract any unwanted attention and you didn’t pull him by his tie. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist delicately, his first taste of you touching him while you guided him to a spot for your clandestine affair.

Your eagerness made you too impatient to wait and find a better secluded spot away from the crowd. The corner you chose was beyond risky to say the least, only a wall separating the both of you and the club guests. If you were lucky and went quickly you’d avoid being caught.

You wondered how long it had been since someone had offered to do this for him, instead of him probably forcing them to their knees while he continued to control the encounter with their consent. His steadfast control over each time he touched you had never wavered up until this point.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.”

He gulped hard, giving you a look like he was considering stopping you. Ultimately he kept his mouth shut, letting you drop to your knees and begin to unbutton his slacks. You worked quickly, unsure how much time you had without being caught in this little corner barely off to the side you chose or how long Spencer would let you touch him with impunity.

You hadn’t been able to really get a good look at his cock, either you had been facing away from it or it was trapped in the confines of the slacks he always wore. When you freed him from his boxers you could not help but admire it, even if only for a second.

Beautiful was an odd way to describe a cock, but there was no other word you could really find in the moment while you were on your knees. He was already hard, even leaking at the tip, and all from a few teasing words from your mouth. You’d have to test your affect on him more in the future, it obviously excited him.

When you held it in your hands and licked him from his base to tip, he had to bite on his fist at the suddenness of your touch. You pumped him a few times languidly before bringing the head to your lips and letting it slip into your mouth. He was allowing you to explore without fear of any repercussions. His hand that now rested at the back of your head being the only signal that he could take back the control anytime he wanted.

When you began to bob your head a wave of new precum hit your tongue. The taste of Spencer on your tongue was to put it lightly, intoxicating, you’d be content to taste him everyday if he let you.

Hoping too much would be your downfall if you let it, you pushed it out of your mind so you could be content with the baby steps forward you were taking. This right here, was him being vulnerable, even with you on his knees. You’d have to tread carefully if you wanted another crack in his mask to see even his darkest features, not a chink in his armor that would have him running away injured.

You weren’t sure what made the energy shift in the corner you were on your knees in, you suspected it was the soft caress of your hand along his thigh. He clammed up, suddenly wanting to take back control of the situation, no longer content with being vulnerable. It was quite clear to you that he saw giving up his control as a moment of weakness, just by going off of the once content look on his face that had twisted and seized up in frustration. Whatever he would let you do to him or whatever he wanted to do to you would always leave you wet with desire. It would however, be a lie to say that you didn’t want to see him back in a similar position one day. Getting him to be vulnerable for any extended period of time, even if it was while you were on his knees for him in a typical position for submission, was a form of progress. A little bit twisted, yes, but it still was progress.

Control fell back easily into his hands, now wasn’t the time to fight him on it; you’d be a good girl for now. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of your head tightened its grip to start controlling the pace.

You let your hand let go of his cock, resting them both on his thighs now instead. Your eyes were glassy as you tried to meet his sable irises while he began to thrust into your mouth. All you could really see was his Adam’s apple bobbing, curls falling as his head tipped back with his jaw slack. At first his thrusts had tested the waters, to see how much you could take. They then became more forceful when you gripped his thighs through his slacks and tried to pull him close.

The corner you had pulled him into was more exposed than any previous dalliance. Last time, even though it was out in the open, the stacks of shelves piled high with books shielded you along with his body pinned on top of yours. In comparison, this time you could hear the people laughing and mingling about in the next room over.

That only made you keen, moaning around him softly when you heard someone start a conversation close to the shared wall. Spencer, ever astute to your actions, picked up on what had you moaning around him. He forced your head down as far as you could go, your nose almost nuzzling the hairs at his base. He held you there harshly for a moment while he spoke, “You like it when we’re close to getting caught don’t you? That’s why you chose this spot isn’t it? You aren’t just satisfied with sneaking around, you want to get caught doing it.”

Before you could confirm or deny his questions you had to pull off of him so you could catch your breath. A string of spit connected from your mouth to the top of his cock remained unbroken until he brought his thumb to your mouth so you could continue to suck on something. He bent down to look at you, inspecting your makeup melted by tears and your spit covered lips. When he then moved his thumb from out of your mouth to grip your cheeks hard you whimpered, wondering what you did wrong, “Answer my questions.”

You scrambled to answer to avoid any type of punishment. You couldn’t make him feel good the way you wanted to if he was angry at you. Trying to muster up some conviction failed as your answer still came out shaky, “Y-yes! I-I liikeee it, Doctor!”

Satisfied with your answer and the amount of time your break had been he let go of the grip on your cheeks to resume. He slipped back inside your mouth swiftly, seeing no need to start out slow again. This time when you looked up, you found him meeting your irises with his own making you squirm underneath his piercing gaze.

“Touch yourself, we don’t have time for both of us.” With any other man you would have been irritated because mostly likely they were unwilling to finish a girl off. Spencer however, had proven he was consistently capable of that from you two previous interactions. He was also right, the place you had chosen was going to be flooded with people soon as they left the party. It was around this time that a group of people got bored and left which you didn’t understand. Why would they pay the money if they were just going to leave early?

You maneuvered your hands underneath the fringed edge of your dress, then bypassing your panties by pushing them to the side. There was no need to tease yourself, sucking off Spencer had you soaking through your flimsy lace panties. You pushed two of your fingers inside your entrance, curling them to deliciously hit at that sweet spot inside you. Even though you were enjoying the way he fucked your face in combination with you touching yourself, your fingers didn’t feel as euphoric as Spencer’s long fingers that could pull an orgasm out of you in seconds.

Spencer was nearing his release, his hips stuttering as it came closer. More tears prickled at the corner of your eyes out of frustration that you were having trouble reaching the edge with your own fingers. Spencer of course saw your frustration and began to coax you to the edge,

“Come on Shelley I know you can do it, I know you can make yourself cum for me.” Spencer’s words weren’t nearly as good as your fingers, but it did help that final push towards the edge. Falling over the edge together was a heady feeling, pleasure sparking through your veins while Spencer filled your mouth. You focused on swallowing it all down as best as you could, only a bit escaping the sides of your mouth.

When it was all said and done Spencer tucked himself back into his boxers, then rebuckling the belt holding his slacks up. He then outstretched a hand towards you, who was crumpled on the floor looking absolutely ruined. It was a simple gesture, taking his hand so you didn’t wobble on your heels as much. To you however it seemed like a weighted moment, subtly showing that you were willing to take whatever he may give to you.

He then suddenly pushed a book in your hands, which came seemingly out of thin air, only soon after you had cleaned up the corners of your mouth by licking your lips. You had been just about to clean the remnants of your makeup that was streaming down your cheeks with a makeup wipe that had been in your purse. He had other plans, putting the book in your hands and grabbed the wipe from you. He began to use the wipe to clean you off, caressing your cheeks softly this time. His movements were gentle as the cleanser in the cloth, every gentle touch that came directly after the hard made you want to fall into the dark abyss with him. You had almost moved forward to kiss him until he unintentionally stopped you by starting to wipe your smeared lipstick off. Once he was done with that you then looked down at the book he had forced you to take.

“What is this?” Your brows furrowed in question at the unexpected gift. Your relationship had a loose definition, really none at all, to get a gift felt like it was supposed to mean something. He had gifted you something in the past, the nickname you now couldn’t seem to shake, and you supposed the multiple orgasms could be classified as gifts to some.

This felt bigger than that, at least to you. But, how were you supposed to know what his train of thought was when you didn’t know anything about him. Most of what you did know contradicted each other anyway. There was no way to predict a man who had two distinct sides of him, neither of which he’d divulge more than surface level information about.

“I thought it was quite obvious, it’s a book.” His nonchalant response through you for a loop, causing you to stammer a bit. However, he did not let you form a complete thought, steamrolling you with sudden excitement, “An old copy of Frankenstein to be exact, Shelley.”

Looking down you traced your fingers over the spine on the vintage book. You weren’t sure how old the book was, you’d have to check that later. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the potential value in owning an old edition of a book, but the gesture still confused you. Instead of dwelling on a question that you weren’t going to get a straight answer for if you asked, you tried to tease him, “But I have already read it, you know that.”

He took your jab at his listening skills in stride and again was cagey as always with his response, “I do know that, that isn’t why I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to potentially figure out.” He was now moving to leave the corner, about to leave you hanging in the wind scrambling to figure out whatever he was talking about. You scrambled to follow, which caused you to almost crash into him when he abruptly stopped. “I’ll give you a hint, flip to page 56.”

Flipping it open to the page you noticed that it wasn’t a page of any significance, no famous quotes were highlighted or major climactic scenes happening.

“There isn’t anything in here.” Exasperation was evident in your voice, he was too hard to read, certainly not as hard as the book in front of you. His intentions were the hardest to figure out, he could be stringing you along in his web, bringing you closer until he devoured you like a spider with a fly.

The air itself was filled with monsters, more like potential monsters lurking waiting to reveal their intentions. The dark was often desirable, but it would be naive of you to trust it without question. There was still something about Spencer that made you want to blindly trust without question that his monsters had beauty in them. You couldn’t deny that being devoured by him sounded enticing.

“Look again.” And with a fleeting kiss on your lips that he was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. It left you to wait until he graced you with his presence next with no way to contact him. At least that’s what you thought until you followed his suggestion and looked again.

There, nestled in between two pages of the book rested a strip of paper. The handwriting on it was messy, slanted heavily in one direction and partially smudged as if written rapidly. You could still make out the ten digits written in navy blue ink, your breath caught up in your throat at that.

At the bottom there was a simple dash then right next to it read his name, Spencer. With no titles or anything else written.

The simplicity of his name written sloppy in pen ink made you want to clutch it to your heart in disbelief. The book already was too much, to big a gesture for what was supposed to just be fucking in the library while saying clever things. You wondered if he had thought this through, thinking that by the state of how it was written it was done impulsively without thought. Though you hoped that was just how he always wrote, it would be another small slice of information of who he truly was.

In reality who knows what he was thinking, a mask was still firmly over his face in front of you. It may have had cracks that gave you glimpses at the man underneath, but it would be a lie to say you even knew the slightest bit about him beyond his name. There were some dots you could connect that may lead to somewhere or nowhere. You didn’t even know what his job was, so you weren’t going to pretend that you could properly analyze his handwriting. He could even be lying about every piece of information given thus far, only using it to pull you in quicker by the spider’s silk he was potentially spinning.

All that was still locked up there in his mind, not unlike when Jekyll locked himself up in his laboratory. You only hoped this phone number signaled that he may be willing to open up his mind to you, even with the serum that could turn him into something dark. He could shut you out, insisting that what he had done was a mistake, then sealing the cracks in his mask closed. But, you were too curious for your own good, you wanted to shatter the mask, to pull away the shroud of mystery, to tell you about the monsters lurking. All you had to do was call him, and maybe he’d let the monsters free.

Part One, Part Two

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill this out to join): Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @takeyourleap-of-faith All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb

[superheroesofbothuniverses]

Mission Not Completed: a Bucky and Daniel meeting

“How’s the List coming?” Sam asked Bucky as the two were unwinding on the plane home from a mission. They hadn’t talked about it in a few weeks, but Sam knew Bucky had been working on it, judging by his sporadic absences and the way he looked when he returned. Only Sarah dared go near him after one of these trips and after spending time with her, Bucky usually perked up.

Sam had given up trying to discourage them after seeing how serious they were and how clearly good they were for each other. At the same time, he never missed an opportunity to tease his friend and occasionally throw out a subtle threat. It was his solemn brotherly duty, after all.

“It’s coming,” Bucky sighed. “Crossed off three more names this month. I’ve got stuck on one currently, and it’s become a dead end. The man doesn’t seem to have any living relatives.”

He stared blankly off into space, trying not to think about wiping out a family line.

“That’s unusual,” Sam commented. “Not any nieces or nephews or cousins?”

“None living,” Bucky told him. “This was one of the early hits. 1955. I didn’t think I was going to find much, but I didn’t expect zero. I even read the guy’s file with Shield. He was one of the best. Worked with Peggy Carter and she had high praise for him.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who was he?” Sam asked.

“Daniel Sousa.” Bucky replied, closing his eyes as an unwanted memory went through his mind.

Sam, on the other hand, grew more alert and his eyes widened.

“Not to get your hopes up, but I have a contact who could do some digging. See if we can’t get some closure for you.”

Bucky pondered this and then shrugged.

“Why not?” He said. “Can’t hurt.”

Bucky switched his musings over to thoughts of Sarah and daydreams about a future with her, which were becoming more and more solid the more he spent time with her.

A few days later, Daisy Johnson sought out her boyfriend after a very interesting video conversation with Mack.

“Any interesting news?” Daniel asked, looking up from the book he was absorbed in. He was an avid bookworm and would read just about anything he could get his hands on.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact,” she told him, wondering how to approach the topic.

“What do you know about one James Buchanan Barnes?”

“He was a great soldier, a legend in the Howling Commandos and an excellent sniper,” Daniel said, eyes getting an excited gleam in them, like he was going all fanboy. “I wish I could have met him, but he was lost on a mission unfortunately.”

Daisy’s fingers flew on her tablet as she pulled up the information she needed.

“Well, I’ve got some news for you, honey,” she told him, handing him the tablet. “Read this.”

It was a long file, so Daisy plopped down beside him as he read and watched his expressions, which turned to shock, horror, anger, and then deep sadness. (Several swear words accompanied the anger phase.)

Finally, he handed the tablet back to her with a shake of his head, looking very serious.

“Wow. I had no idea. And he’s still alive?”

“Yes. According to Mack, he’s been completely freed from the brainwashing and is working with the new Captain America, Sam Wilson.”

“So, why were you talking about him?” Daniel asked.

Daisy took his hand in hers, finding it suddenly difficult to speak.

“You know how we faked your death when we kidnapped you out of 1955?”

Daniel nodded slowly.

“Well, Bucky Barnes, then the Winter Soldier, was who Hydra sent after you. He thinks he killed you.”

“Oh.” Daniel said, voice small. “Oh. Wow.”

He stared off into the distance, contemplating his continued existence yet again.

“Are you okay?” Daisy asked gently, cuddling up close to him supportively.

“Yeah, I just……..it’s a lot to process. Why was he looking for me now?”

“According to Sam, Bucky is trying to track down families of the Winter Soldier’s victims and tell them the truth about what happened. He couldn’t find anybody for you, so Sam went to Shield and talked to Mack, who talked to me.”

“Does he want to talk to me?”

“He doesn’t know you’re alive. Mack wanted your permission to tell them.”

“Oh, well, sure, you can tell them. Who knows? Maybe I’ll finally get to meet him: a fellow member of the Men Out Of Time club.

Daniel seemed to have recovered his humor with this comment and Daisy snorted, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re so resilient, Daniel,” she told him. “One of the many things I love about you.”

“You sitting down?” Sam asked Bucky, barging into their hotel room wearing what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

Bucky looked up warily from where he was checking their communication equipment with utmost care. He’d be darned if they blew a mission due to faulty comms.

“Yes. Why?

“Turns out you and Steve aren’t the only preserved relics from the forties.”

Bucky scowled at him. He greatly objected to the term relic, but didn’t want to waste his breath arguing.

“Oh? Somebody else get frozen for seventy years?” He asked grumpily.

“Not exactly,” Sam hedged. “I found out some info on Daniel Sousa today.”

Bucky sighed and put down the earpiece he was working with.

“Spill it.” He ordered.

“It turns out that Daniel Sousa’s death was completely faked and he is alive and well and looking surprisingly good for his age,” Sam told him, still grinning.

“Impossible,” Bucky muttered. “The soldier didn’t miss.” His forehead creased in a frown as he mentally reviewed the spotty memories of that day many decades ago.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I talked to him on a video chat today,” Sam said, becoming more serious. “There was definitely some time travel involved and expert staging. Coulson’s old crew decided Sousa was much too good to go out like that and they brought him with them back to the twenty-first century.”

“I would call bullshit, but after what we’ve seen, that’s not that much of a stretch,” Bucky finally sighed. “So, did you go ahead and tell him everything?”

“No. That’s not my story to tell. I heard his side and I told him I’d see if you’d like to talk to him yourself. He seemed almost eager for it. Said you were one of his heroes during the war.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose and he looked astonished.

“Wow. Hero is debatable, but I should probably talk to him.”

And that was how Bucky found himself sitting in front of a computer screen a week later, meeting another man out of time.

Sousa looked awestruck, not scared, and Bucky let himself relax and show the man a friendly smile.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s an honor to meet you,” Daniel said, practically grinning from ear to ear. There was something very genuine about his expressions that put Bucky at ease very quickly.

“The same to you, Agent Sousa,” Bucky replied, stomach unknotting with the relaxed greeting. “How do you find the twenty-first century?”

“Bewildering, but good so far,” he said. “I’m still a bit of a fish out of water, but I’m liking the technology better. For one thing, Prosthetics have come a long way since the fifties.”

“Oh, definitely,” Bucky agreed, briefly displaying his metal hand. Sousa’s jaw dropped.

“That’s marvelous!” He exclaimed. “I take it they replaced the Hydra made arm?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “This is made from vibranium. Vastly superior.”

And they were off on a long conversation about prosthetics and rehab and adjustments, which led to swapping war stories and Shield stories. Daniel described in gleeful detail how he’d first met Daisy in his office and how they’d faked his death and basically kidnapped him into the future. It didn’t take Bucky long to figure out the man was clearly head over heels for Agent Johnson, given how glowingly he talked about her and the little sappy smiles that occasionally lit up his face. There was no judgment to be had from Bucky, though. He was pretty sure his own face wore a similar expression whenever he looked at Sarah.

“It means a lot that you were willing to talk to me, Daniel,” Bucky told him. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Daniel said graciously. “Like I said, I looked up to you.”

Bucky swallowed hard. The way Daniel casually, but sincerely professed his admiration meant a lot to him.

“Wow. And you’re not completely disillusioned?” He asked with a self-deprecating smile.

“Nope,” Sousa smiled, again with that adorable sincerity that made Bucky think of Steve.

“The fact that I was enough of a pain in Hydra’s side for them to send their top assassin after me tells me I was doing my job well,” he remarked.

“That’s one way to look at it,” Bucky grinned, shaking his head at how unflappable this guy was. No wonder they’d made him the head Of the LA division.

“I hope you’re able to find the closure you’re looking for,” Daniel told him as they prepared to end their chat.

“Thanks. Safe travels,” Bucky wished him. “Next time you’re on planet, look me up. We can grab a drink, be weird old guys, that sort of thing.”

Daniel chuckled. “I will, Sergeant Barnes. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Bucky sat thoughtfully for a few minutes after he’d hung up, then slowly pulled his little book out of his pocket. Instead of crossing out Daniel’s name like he’d done with the others, he circled it.

Mission NOT completed, he thought, feeling lighter at the thought.

[thelovelyghostwriter]

Some of my favourite female characters in fiction

This list is not exhaustive and while I do have other characters that I find charming and that I love, I have noted these characters because in my opinion, they have struggled and/or there is a certain analysis to their personalities. 

Please take note that some of the characters are not morally good or have done questionable actions. This is not to discuss or say they are role models, but rather to write up what they represented, their role in the story or simply their personalities. I’m not here to justify the character’s actions.

Remember that a well-written characters do not have to be morally good. 

Also, a lot of them are from memory and the analysis aren’t well-structured. 

Let’s dive in:

1. Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby

Daisy, in my opinion, is incredibly misunderstood and unjustifiably hated among the readers. Her betrayal to Gatsby is indeed vile and it did upset me, I definitely think that she is materialistic, shallow and hurtful.  

“I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”

Daisy did shit on Gatsby [trying to avoid spoilers here].  

However, I do like to note that I think part of her materialism and shallowness is because of how women were in the 1920s. They did not have any freedom or agency. To Tom, she seems to be a trophy wife for him to keep; and to Gatsby, he only liked the idea of her, he wasn’t in love with her. To everyone around her, she was an item, a beautiful doll to be possessed, rather than a person. I think that’s why she turned out like that. 

She's materialistic because men around her sees her as an object. Nonetheless, Daisy is still “careless” and hurtful; and I think this stemmed from the life she had led that were a compilation of choices that were made for her. Her betrayal towards Gatsby is what makes her character rather disappointing to most readers. The whiteness in her dress as described in her first appearance? It’s not innocence, but rather a void and jadedness. 

2. Neon Nostrade from Hunter x Hunter

Yet, another girl in our list that loves to be hated by the fandom. Though honestly, most of her haters are Chrollo and Kurapika stans who gets jealous because Chrollo got to hang out with her and Kurapika works under her. Also her repulsive hobby - although this is actually what makes me like her. 

I have addressed this in my other posts before, but let me just copy and paste them (and modify a bit):  Her upbringing and exploitation by her dad makes her materialistic and emotionally detached. This materialism and detachment is manifested in the form of her hobby as a dead body parts collector. But other than that, she’s really a normal girl, just sheltered and spoilt. The money she spends are even from her talent Lovely Ghostwriter, her father will be nothing without her. So I don’t see an issue with her spending them on shopping etc. 

In fact, I would argue that she bathes in materialism to fill the emptiness that she has. Her father is more concerned with her ability and power, she has no friends and is guarded 24/7 by employees.

All the times she threw tantrums and the way she talks… it’s a different speech pattern altogether when she interacts with Chrollo - which may suggest that the whole spoilt attitude is exaggerated to gain attention from a father who is indulgent in terms of material gifts, but not in terms of affection and time for her.

When Eliza cried, she was willing to forgo bidding the auction physically. Yes she did not care about the bodyguards because she is more focused on the living and the present (Eliza) than the dead.

The reason why she didn’t seem fazed when Dalzollene and the others died is because a) they were her bodyguards, it’s their job to put their life on the line to protect her, b) she mentioned to Chrollo that her fortune-telling is for the living, she likes to live in the present and doesn’t believe in the afterlife.

Neon is more focused on who is alive, rather than the dead (which also represented by her hobby of dead body parts collecting). She focuses on the present, unlike her clients who likes to know their future or people who dwell in the past. Kurapika on the other hand, is the complete opposite. He dwells on the past and likes to focus on his dead clan rather than the present times with his friends (which is completely understandable).

Another significance is that her fortune-telling ability is very useful and helpful, she says that she wanted to make people happy with it; but however, it is commercialized and used as a means of power (knowledge of the future = power) by her father and pretty much everyone around her. Just like how she objectifies dead people by collecting their parts, the people around her sees her as a tool due to her fortune-telling abilities, rather than see her as a person. Even Kurapika chose to get employed under her, for his own agenda (he is bound to meet dead body parts collectors at some point). 

She treats people like objects because people see her as one.

Of course, collecting dead body parts is a pretty fucked hobby; but what she represents and her role as a minor character is what makes her an outstanding minor female character in the show. 

Yes. She has traits that are not your typical role model, but neither are other hxh characters. She’s not independent, naive, can’t fight, in need of saving, uncaring at times and spoilt. She is far from so-called “strong female character” that we often look up to. She is a character with bad traits which is a result of being a victim. But that’s what makes me love her as a character in hxh. It reminds us that there are girls out there who has lack of freedom and control over their own fate; and their only way out is through materialism and detaching themselves from people. 

In fact, she might be even relateable to some people more than other female characters because there is vulnerability in her character.

3. Hua Mulan (Mostly the Chinese 2009 film, though the most well-known is the Disney 1998 animated film)

There has been various adaptations for this character, with the Disney Animated version being the most prominent.

However, my favourite one is definitely the Chinese film Hua Mulan: Rise of A Warrior (2009). It portrays the horrors of war and the suffering it brings, nationalism, camaraderie among the army - all while giving us the admirable Mulan climbing up to the ranks of being a war general.

I highly recommend this adaptation. I know the Disney Live Action 2020 version did not receive good reception, and we honestly did not need one because this 2009 Chinese film does the job well (I like their soundtrack though). It's not really well-known because it's a Chinese film (which is hella ironic because Hua Mulan is a Chinese character? Lmao).

"Today we will stain the battlefield with our blood. Behind us is our homeland. If we have to bleed out our last drop of blood, if we have to become bleached bones in this desert, we must defend it to the death! We must let the Rourans know we Wei warriors will never surrender and will never compromise! Soldiers may rebel against me, generals may leave me for dead, but I, Hua Mulan, will never betray my country!"

Generally, I either have an issue with strong female characters because they are just shallow (meaning they are only physically strong, often viewing rudeness, misandry and independence as strength). I like female characters who are so much more to that.

Mulan, in this film, not only showed her badassery in fighting the war for more than a decade, but we also see how much she struggled. Everytime her comrades die, her heart gets broken. Yet she has to learn how to pick herself up and become the leader that they need. She dislikes war, she dislikes the bloodshed; yet she fights for her country.

To me, a strong female character is not just a feminist icon or someone who can fight. In fact, a female character doesn't need to be someone capable of fighting, what makes her strong is to be able to overcome turbulence with determination.

I think this is something that is lacking in recent "strong female characters" - showing us their strength through perseverance.

As for the Disney's counterpart (talking about the 1998 film here), it is less morbid but we also see her trying her best to make her family proud and protect her country. Like the song Reflection and Loyal, Brave and True, she struggles with finding her purpose and her role in her family.

"The greatest gift of honour, is having you for a daughter."

4. Blanche Dubois from A Streetcar Named Desire

It's been years since I had analysed Blanche, but among all the 6 books that I had to study for English Literature, A Streetcar Named Desire has been my absolute favourite.

I think what struck me in this book is not just the style, but Blanche's vulnerability. Her actions are definitely not morally good: she misrepresents things, she lies, she even had sex with an underage student. She's paranoid, mentally unstable and prissy. Which was why, her polar opposite character, Stanley, is so annoyed with her.

After her husband's suicide, we see Blanche relying on the company of men to fill the void of her loneliness and misery. She is also concerned about her beauty fading with age - I find that highly reliable. It sounds incredibly "vain", but beauty does play a part.

Based on Evolutionary and Mating Theories among humans, appearance in women are especially important (also for men but not as much as women). Of course, there are other factors and traits that people find attractive, but Blanche's concern is valid here. She needs to find a husband to escape from her financial troubles; and her age, beauty and chastity plays a huge factor in her search for getting a man in the setting she was in (which was Mitch in this case). Ironically, these are the very traits that she has "lost" and so desperately tries to hide it.

Her ending is truly a devastating and upsetting one. [Will not talk about it due to spoilers]

"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

5. Haibara Ai/Shiho Miyano from Detective Conan

Perhaps one of the girls that is a wasted potential. In a series where the characters are mostly flat, she's arguably the most multi-faceted (but somehow I had heard that she no longer has the same complexity as she used to have - it's been a while since I followed this series).

But I remember absolutely loving this character.

Her background story is really unique in the show and one that is embedded within the Black Organisation plotline (why her character was dropped... Forever frustrating for me).

From the moment she was first introduced, we see Conan taking an immediate distrust towards her. A guy who is a detective who had been catching criminals - yet one ex-syndicate member stands before him. The one that actually helped to develop the APTX4869 that changed his life.

Yet, we see that it wasn't entirely within her control. Both her parents were syndicate members and when her sister tries to get both of them to leave, her sister dies.

Ai starts off as seemingly cold, pessimistic and avoidant. But as her arc goes on, the iceberg around her melts. We see her quirky sarcastic replies, her taste for fashion and she genuinely desires to be happy. Her relationship with Conan developed into a beautiful one - to the point where Conan trusts her with anything and they would risk their lives for one another.

Yet, we also empathies with her impending jealousy and heartache. The boy she has fallen for already has someone else. What's more, the girl is genuinely kind and is a splitting image of her sister. After Ran saved her from Vermouth, she quickly warms up to Ran as well.

She's also the key to developing the antidote for Shinichi to be back with Ran - an almost painful metaphor for her to give him away (he never belonged to her in the first place). Yet, she doesn't really stop them from being together (even though in some cases she appears jealous or phrase ShinRan's reunion as a word of caution).

I definitely think she is the most compelling character in Detective Conan because of her character development and the struggles she faces. It's definitely upsetting that her character has been neglected.

“Don’t judge people from the outside. Like any rose has thorns, the more the person appears nice on the outside, the more you should doubt the inside.”

6. Misato Katsuragi from Neon Genesis Evangelion

Who is the best female character in Eva? Asuka or Rei? My answer will always be Misato, Risato is a close second (I wanted to analyse Risato, but I’m trying to keep it to one person per series). Misato is one of the 90s anime babes. She definitely captivated many people’s heart. 

I must say though, I have a soft spot towards female characters who has some sort of daddy issues (why I like Neon Nostrade). It’s been a while since I had watched Eva, but I’m going to try to remember why I like her. 

I think the concept of Hedgehog’s Dilemma has been echoed throughout the series, and all the characters seem to struggle with emotional attachment towards people. I actually like to phrase the Hedgehog Dilemma as “Avoidant-Fearful Attachment Style” - wanting connection with people, yet not being able to do so out of fear of being hurt. 

For Misato, when I initially first watched Eva, I compared her a little to Blanche Dubois in how they cope with loneliness - their sexuality. I remember being confused with her interactions with Shinji, who was half her age. At times, she serves as his guardian/mother figure; but at some moments (I think it was sometimes after Kaji’s death), she tried to seek comfort with Shinji by attempting to initiate sex (which Shinji rejects). I remember coming across a comment somewhere that Shinji and Misato’s relationship is somewhat like Humbert and Dolores (from Lolita) - can’t comment on this as I only read the first chapter of the book. 

It makes me think that she uses sex as a way to cope and the only way she can connect with people (and it’s superficial), which doesn’t work for Shinji because she needs to be her guardian (and ultimately fails to be purely his guardian once she crossed that no-no boundary). 

Another thing to note was her backstory about her dad. There seems to be a dissonance, given that she resented her dad for not spending time with her due to his work, but he ended up sacrificing her life for her. I do think it’s a bit of guilt (because resenting her dad but he saves her - these two contradicts one another). It’s clear that her issues to connect stems from her backstory regarding her father. 

It’s interesting how she compares Kaji to her father. I do think she loves Kaji, but “reminds him too much of her father” (as to put it simply). There is this... stereotype that we find someone similar to our opposite-gender parents, no matter how shitty they were towards us. I believe that it is because we tend to stick to something that is familiar to us, even if those type of people aren’t good for us (I think to break this cycle is to practise self-awareness and know what is good for us). 

Anyway, Misato is a character that I really liked (as all the characters in Eva) because they highlight Hedgehog’s Dilemma that stemmed from their parental issues. Maybe I have not watched a lot of anime, but female characters with issues with their fathers are not as explored deeply as male characters and their parental issues. A lot of times, female characters (especially in shounen) serves as a romantic interest and yes they can have really sad backstory, but not issues towards their father and how it affects their relationship with other people. So far, the only ones I had seen is Mukuro (Yu Yu Hakusho), Misato and Neon Nostrade. 

7. Disney's Cinderella

First of all, she has been a victim of abuse since she was a child. It's not easy for her to escape her predicament. Where can she go? It's not that easy.

Boy. I hate how much people remember Cinderella wrongly and attack her for being "backwards", which is actually factually wrong.

Cinderella always get flack for using the Prince to "escape" her predicament when "she can do it herself".

I say that's bullshit. I actually came across a youtube video: Cinderella Stop Blaming the Victim [please check it out for more in-depth analysis]

Despite all that, she's doesn't internalize it. She knows she doesn't deserve to be treated this way, and she does to a certain degree stand up to them (whenever the cat makes her tasks harder). She knows when to fight back and restrain herself because it might endanger her life.

After years of suffering in this domestic household, she remains kind, compassionate and hopeful. Which is not an easy feat. The problem is, these traits are often seen as feminine and synonymous with being weak. But it is actually, in fact, signs of strength. The mental fortitude she has to remain kind after all she went through is a sign of strength.

The Fairy Godmother only appeared when she was losing hope - take note that she ends up crying because her stepsisters tore her mother’s dress (which is the most disturbing scene in the film). 

Even I had remembered this wrongly - one crucial fact is that... She did not want to go the ball to nab the Prince. That was her stepsisters. Homegirl just wanted to chill. She did not even know she was dancing with the Prince!

When Lady Tremaine locked her up to prevent her from reaching the Prince, it wasn’t the Prince that saved her. She and her animal friends got her out of the room, and proceeded to prove that she was indeed the maiden that had danced with the Prince. Her marrying the Prince was only a fitting end to her because it provides her a home and an escape from an abusive household; however, it was her resilience for holding onto fate and being mentally strong, and her initiatives partially contributed to her happy end. The Prince is more like a passive character. 

I highly think that people tend to brush her traits - e.g. compassion, having fate, being kind is listed as feminine. However, it is far from being weak, which most people would deem it as. But that is definitely not true. 

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish can come true.”

8. Mikasa Ackerman from Attack on Titan

Mikasa is either a hit or miss among AOT fans. Some people like Mikasa because she is physically strong and her loyalty to Eren is admirable. On the other hand, some people think she’s clingy and her being physically strong makes her a Mary Sue. 

Whether or not you like Mikasa, there is a fact that she is not a Mary Sue. The definition of a Mary Sue is a female character lacking in weakness and seems perfect. 

She is physically strong, yes - I believe that Isayama wanted to distribute traits to the trio. Even Hannes has said it in S1. Armin represents intellect, Eren represents grit and Mikasa represents strength. So her being physically strong makes sense, and Isayama also provided an explanation for it (being an Ackerman). 

However, this does not mean she lacks any weakness. Arguably, her loyalty to Eren is both a liability and her strength. This “weakness” has been highlighted by her dilemma between her loyalty towards Eren and her belief that mass genocide is wrong.

[I won’t go into details about the manga parts that have not been animated as of 2021, can’t spoil it too much]. 

[solarviolet]

daisy pt.2 • bucky barnes

bucky’s metal arm gets an upgrade

word count : 858  warnings : none! (but let me know if you find any)

a/n : as i started writing this i got an idea for a part three to this tiny series ! so expect another daisy fic soon <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he was hiding something; you were sure of it. but you made no comments about it. instead choosing to ignore how he’d leave for a few hours each day, watching as he comes back home with a giddy smile on his face.

you trust bucky, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s hiding from you. 

one day while you’re at the avengers’ compound, you spot bucky walking out of the room with tony. they’re whispering, heads next to each other’s, as you watch them with narrowed eyes, suspicious of their every move. 

natasha notices that you’ve stopped speaking to her and she watches you with a twinkle in her eyes. she coughs and your head snaps back to hers.

“are you ok daisy?” she asks you with concern, but there’s a teasing smirk on her face. your head tilts and eyes narrow as you stare at her with confusion. with a sickly-sweet tone, you talk to her.

“natty … what is bucky up to and what are you all hiding from me?”

eyes narrowed and arms crossed you stare her down, not moving, not even an inch. you watch as her smirk grows bigger and soon her body is shaking with laughter. you’re standing there in shock as she just laughs and laughs, not believing how nonchalant she is.

huffing you turn around and walk out of the room in frustration. sighing you head out to the grassy area that’s just outside the compound. you lay down and watch the sky for a while. you’re lost in your thoughts when bucky suddenly enters your vision. ignoring him, you roll onto your stomach, instead finding the grass very interesting. you hear him sigh and you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

he sits down next to your head and stares at you with a grin on his face. minutes pass by like that until you can tell he’s getting antsy because of how you ignore him.

“daisyyy … baby, why are you ignoring me? huh? c’mon talk to me princess” you can hear the pout in his voice and a chuckle leaves your mouth. you’ve never been able to resist him when he acts like this and he knows, using it to his advantage.

rolling your eyes, you glance up at bucky only to find him already looking at you. you notice that he’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt, which is odd seeing as it’s summer and the weather is extremely hot on this day. the sight of his clothes makes you sit up and your eyes run over his face with a calculating look, wondering what is going on.

“bucky … james buchanan barnes, why are you wearing that shirt on this hot day? why? what are you hiding from me? and no you’re not getting away with it this time, i’m tired of this”

he doesn’t say a word, instead choosing to smile at you, which only serves to make your frustration grow to maddening heights. “i have a surprise for you baby, you ready to see it?”

you nod rapidly, not able to handle all this suspense from your man. he tells you to cover your eyes and you quickly close them with your hands. you can hear the sound of rustling clothes, which piques your interest. bucky hums and a few seconds later he asks you to open your eyes again.

the first thing you notice is that he’s shirtless and it makes a soft heat flood through your body. he smirks as he sees the blush spread on your face.

“um, sorry sir, but if this is your surprise then it’s a really bad one” you tell him with a straight-faced look. bucky throws his head back and a booming laugh leaves his body. “no daisy, this isn’t your surprise, hold on, give me a moment”.

he turns his body to show you his metal arm. a loud gasp leaves your body as you look at his metal arm. eyes open in shock with your mouth wide open. you can’t believe it, no you must be dreaming, because right there, right in front of your eyes is bucky’s metal arm with a daisy on it.

tears fill your eyes as you stare at it. lifting your head up, you look at bucky with tears streaming down your face, unable to utter a word to him. you bring his new metal arm to your lap and run your hands all over it. you look at it with amazement, loving the daisy that’s on there. surprising bucky, you lean down, and press kisses on to his arm.

his other hand comes up to run his hands through your hair, calming you down. “bucky … i-i can’t believe this, you did this for me?” letting go of his arm, you reach up to cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as he softly smiles at you. 

“all for you, daisy. just for you baby. i needed something on me that would remind me of you at all times, so i came up with this”.

“now you’ll always be with me, my little daisy”

[puppypeter]

Mind the tags and come cry with me. 

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

ox hunger | 24026 words

Steve asks, “What’s going on, Buck?”

As in What’s Eating Bucky Barnes.

Except of course it’s more like What’s Bucky Barnes Eating.

(The answer to both questions would be sometimes nothing, sometimes everything.)

The Saga Of Bucky’s Duck | 1168 words

"It's a rubber duck," Steve says. "To keep you company when you're taking a bath."

Colors | 1383 words

The man shows him a new picture. A large blond man was huddled in the center of the paper, his face hidden in his hands. Surrounding him were pictures of another man with brown hair. Underneath were the words I have nightmares, too.

The Soldier doesn’t know how to draw 'safe', so he draws 'hurt'.

Circling Back | 59642 words

Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him.

The Barriers Between | 6093 words

Bucky's been keeping his bed-wetting a secret from Steve at the cost of their relationship, but the secret being out doesn't make it better.

Holding Pattern | 13565 words

This hadn't been a problem before Bucky had fallen from the damn train. But Hydra had their rules, and The Asset had quickly learned to follow them to the letter, however painful that was. Because the punishment was always far, far worse...

Unfortunately, not everything was as easy to undo after The Asset returned to life as Bucky Barnes.

Took My Love, Took It Down | 31785 words

The problem, Bucky thinks now that he has most of his memories back, is that his whole entire world has always revolved around Steve Rogers. Steve has been always been half of Bucky’s identity. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ best friend. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ wingman. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ teammate. And now, well, now Steve had other people to fill those positions. And of course, of course he’d always been a little bit in love with Steve. So when he overhears Steve telling Natasha that he’s finally found someone he’d like to date, someone with similar life experience, Bucky clings blindly to the hope that maybe, just maybe, Steve is talking about him.

Always & Always | 17233 words

“I always liked daisies,” Sam confessed, only after Clint admitted he had a fond admiration for lavender and Wanda said she loved baby’s breath.

“I’m growing those,” Bucky told Sam.

Sam took a long sip of his drink, face smoothing over. “I’m deathly allergic.”

[OR the one where Bucky uses gardening as a coping mechanism, learns the language of flowers and starts dropping hints about his true feelings left, right and center—Steve can’t help it if he’s a little slow on the uptake.]

The Diaries of Bucky Barnes | 15208 words

"This young soldier was writing about war, but not only that. No, the most remarkable extracts from his diaries are the ones about emotions; those passages in which he writes about loss and pain and loyalty and love."

When Bucky Barnes’ diaries are leaked in the 70s, reactions vary from one thing to another, even decades later.

The Right Way To Fall | 41481 words

He's just scruffy enough that most people would avoid eye contact in case he asked them for change. But his eyes are startling blue and stark and wild, and he looks at Sam and Sam looks at him, and yeah. Turns out he knows where Bucky is after all.

Except, Sam reminds himself, this isn't Bucky. This is the Winter Soldier, who's gone completely, absolutely still like an animal trying to decide whether to attack or run. And Sam is suddenly, terribly aware of all the people around them: all the tourists and the kids on their field trips; all the families with their babies and toddlers; all the sentimental fools like him come to visit Captain America on an overcast Wednesday afternoon.

But Sam has also seen that expression on the men and women who come to his counseling sessions. He's seen it in the mirror more times than he cares to count. He knows that kind of fear and pain, just like he knows that the man who was once James Buchanan Barnes could have already killed him. Killed as many people as he wanted to, and run.

He could have, but he didn't.

The Simple Life | 114329 words

"The simple life."

"You'll get there one day."

"I don't know. Family, stability...The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out."

Bucky wants to be part of Steve's life. He wants to be an Avenger. He wants to be a good partner. Unfortunately, sometimes that means not telling Steve everything.

If You Love Me Now | 3869 words

“You signed up for the guy that would pull you out of fights and steal candies from Harvey’s with you. Not this. You never signed up for this. You can be done, Steve, really. You don’t need me. You don’t have to feel guilty about not sticking around now. I’m not worth your free time, and I’m sure as hell not worth breaking up the fucking Avengers for.”

OR

The one in which Bucky has a hard time believing he deserves love and Steve is there to give him all that he has.

All These Things That I Have Done | 125461 words

Steve was the patron saint of waiting too long. Bucky was atoning for his sins. Maybe they’d both been forsaken, abandoned by the light. Maybe they’d find a way back to each other again.

Post civil war, if things had gone differently.

United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) | 20605 words

The Associated Press @AP Winter Soldier set to stand trial for Washington D.C. massacre and treason apne.ws/1og6SWE

The Soldier and The Mountain | 110765 words

This is a story about recovering from rape, society's apathy toward victims of campus assault, and one man's trial to escape an abusive relationship in a world where men are painted as the batterer. When James Barnes, professional dancer, starts realizing his long-term boyfriend isn't interested in a healthy relationship, he meets Steve Rogers, one of his boyfriend's victims and a soon-to-be-graduate from NYU. Their friendship seems impossible, but maybe they are what the other needs to start clawing out of their traumatic pasts. The road is long and arduous, but recovery always is.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 28

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

There are several times in life when you don’t exactly know if you’re dreaming or if you’re living in reality. In all honesty, there are some dreams that are either so purely done or so terrifying that you don’t even know when waking up if you’ve either passed out or if its only a product of your mind. In this case, Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if she had dreamed her whole interaction for the past weeks with Sebastian or if it was real life. In all honesty, she kept waiting for her alarm to go off and for her to wake up only to realise this was only a fruit of her very creative imagination. 

That plus other things kept rushing through her mind as she packed her suitcase once again to go and spend New Years with Sebastian and Gwen at the Ritz. There was no more cruel case of third wheeling than spending New Years with the couple of whom the husband she’d been rather attracted too. Either else, she just couldn’t help it and while most her mind was screaming at her to go away to Paris and start a new life, the other part telling her to stay in NYC with Sebastian to ensure he’d be alright, to ensure he’d be loved well enough. She knew Gwen to be capable of love, in her eyes everyone was capable of love but she also knew that Gwen wasn’t that interested in being married. Some people just don’t want to be married and Gwen was one of them. 

Grabbing her suitcase, she went downstairs where Sebastian was typing away on his phone, a small compact matte black suitcase by his feet. She smiled, watching the little lines by his eyes and how his black scarf perfectly wrapped around his neck made him look like the most attractive man she’d even seen. 

     - Are you ready? - Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, relishing on whatever contact she could get before they both arrived at the Ritz where Gwen would be for certain. 

     - Yes, my angel, just sorting some details. - he sighed, putting his phone away to look at her. Y/N always managed to make winter apparel look effortlessly beautiful despite all the layers, and he couldn’t deny that she looked precious in her little white beret. However, what put a smile on her face was the Kelly bag beautifully hanging from her elbow. - Excited to return to your handmaid duties?

     - I wouldn’t describe it like that. - Sebastian’s arm snaked around her waist, kissing her coat covered shoulder. As he pressed for the lift, Y/N started rummaging through her bag to ensure she had everything. However, she quickly realised her phone was missing. - I forgot my phone, must’ve left it in my bedroom.

     - It’s alright, just stay here and I’ll go get it for you. - Sebastian kissed her forehead before rushing up the stairs to get her phone, leaving Y/N to hold the lift out for the two of them. Entering her room, he noticed how tidy it was despite the very quick nature of the packing and as he stepped more into the chamber, he spotted her phone on her bedside table. As he got closer, he noticed a folded blanket on the bed. 

Normally he would’ve just let it be and let Y/N have her privacy, however, his curiosity got a hold of him and instead of grabbing her phone and go meet her downstairs, Sebastian decided to pick the blanket up, noticing the name Ella inscribed into it. Ella. He didn’t know any Ellas and he knew Y/N to be a rather private person with a very small if not non existent inner circle.

    - SEB! - he could hear her call out for him. - The lift is here. 

    - I’m going. - quickly, he folded her blanket and picked her phone, rushing downstairs to meet her inside the lift. His eyes wandered to her wondering if she was hiding something from him. She wouldn’t hide anything, she was much to good to do so.

     - Why are you staring at me? - she questioned, pin pointing a difference in his eyes. 

     - Why shouldn’t I? - he cleared her queries with that boyish-like charm that only she got to see. She wondered how things would be if he showed his more compassionate side in business yet again the mob didn’t work on compassion, it worked on intimidation and getting the upper hand. Compassionate people normally don’t last long or at least that what Dan used to say. Y/N didn’t like to believe in that, she liked to believe that being kind had the sort of magic needed to fix anything but yet again she was mostly thought to be a pathetic little fool and, if Daisy Buchanan was indeed right, then the best thing a girl could be was a fool, a beautiful little fool.

The two were ushered into the car by Elias and once inside, the car took off leaving and bursting the little bubble the two of them had been living in for the past days. Still, his hand lingered over hers, thumb caressing the top of her palm as if he was trying to silently sooth her. As the car came to a halt she could see Gwen and Mr. Forrest waiting outside the Ritz with polite smiles. 

The valet opened the door of Y/N’s side allowing her to step out first while Sebastian came right behind, hand leaving hers much to both of their dismay. Before any of them could say a thing, Gwen was already speaking. 

    - Is that a Kelly? - she pointed at Y/N’s bag. - Where did you get a Kelly? How did you get a Kelly? I don’t have one of those. 

    - Oh ... I got it from a charity shop. - her eyes briefly moved towards Sebastian who held in a laugh as the heiress inspected the bag dangling from Y/N’s elbow. - I’m excited you wanted me to spend New Years with you and Sebastian. 

    - Father wanted you to come. - she rolled her eyes before locking gazes with Sebastian. - We have a rehearsal dinner to prepare. 

   - I thought our rehearsal dinner was on the first of the year. 

   - Most of our associates are here with us. I thought it would be best to make it a bit sooner. Besides I’m sure Y/N can’t wait to go to Paris. 

   - Paris? - Sebastian felt his composure slip away slightly before he coughed up, reassuming him outer harsh appearance. - Very well then. 

   - Come on, you have to help me pick a dress. - Gwen gave Y/N very little time to even try and apologise to Sebastian. She practically dragged the handmaid up to her bedroom, closing the door before starting to throw dress after dress onto the bed. - I need one that says bridal, virgin, mob boss wife. 

   - I don’t think you can fit the later with the first two. - Y/N mindlessly folded some of the dress that had landed on her lap. - Are you sure you want to do this, Gwen? Get married, spend your life with someone who you’re not in love with?

   - Listen, Y/N, more than half regular weddings end up in divorce. All this “love” you talk about is merely due to all the brainwashing those books did to you. 

   - I don’t think that’s true. I think that everyone has their other half. 

   - Well then, where is yours? - she snakily replied, putting a dress in front of herself and staring at the mirror. - What do you think about this one?

   - I think I need to go lay down for a bit. - Y/N sighed, grabbing her keypad before leaving Gwen to shrug while trying on dresses. Her heart was heavy as she thought about Sebastian’s reaction once Mr. Forrest let it slip that she was going to Paris.

As she looked at the main map by the lift, wondering and looking for where her room was, she noticed Sebastian followed by some associates walking down the hall. Normally, she would wait for a rather more private occasion to address the touchy subjects, however this particular subject was weighting on her and she owed Sebastian an explanation as to why she hadn’t at least mentioned that she had gotten a house in Paris.

  - Sebastian! - she managed to call out through her breathless state as she ran after him and the men surrounding him. They stopped, a few associates turning around to stare at her, inspecting her from head to toe. 

  - Aren’t you the Forrest’s handmaid? - one of them practically stopped her from coming any closer by raising a hand. - Were you not taught any manners? 

  - I’m terribly sorry but I really need to speak with Mr. Stan. - she smiled apologetically. 

  - So does everyone, now if you don’t mind. - her eyes gazed slightly with Sebastian before she was left in the middle of the hall as the men entered the room leaving her right outside of where everything seemed to happen. 

  - It’s okay, birdie ... - Y/N’s skin shivered at the very recognisable voice at the moment. She daren’t turn, hoping that if she remained perfectly still he would just disappear but Mr. Williams behaved more like her new living shadow much to her dismay. - Most mistresses don’t even get half the attention you do, I wouldn’t be so upset. 

  - I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, you seem to forget yourself. - she remained still, frozen almost like a statue. - I would think you’d be inside with the rest of the associates. 

  - I still can’t figure you out. I’m not sure if you’re smart and are climbing your way into the society by sleeping with a mob boss or if you’re innocence enough to actually care about him. 

   - What I do with my life is none of your business, Mr. Williams. If you excuse me, I must find my bedroom.

  - Don’t kid yourself, you’re nothing but a distraction. 

She closed her eyes tight as she left the hall, almost as if telling herself not to cry, telling herself that maybe he couldn’t speak to her and that he would come and find her when he could. Her bedroom was located away from Gwen’s, instead being thrown in the same floor as Dan and other associates. Tired, she sat against the white sheets of her bed, eyes glued to her hands as she tried to convince herself that she was just being emotional, it wouldn’t be the first time she was gonna be emotional. 

Much too enthralled in her own thoughts, the handmaid decided to lay down against the soft Egyptian cotton sheets and soon sleep came to her, lulling her to sleep. However, the sleep didn’t last too long as in what felt like only a few seconds of sleep yet in reality had been hours judging by the darkness of the room, there was a light knock on the door. Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes, gazing at her wardrobe, wondering if she should even reply to the knock and instead sleep more. Despite how pleasurable that sounded, Y/N decided to walk off her bed and to her door, opening it to see Elias ready to knock again.

   - You must be on the dinning hall in exactly 30 minutes, Miss. I thought it’d be nice to warn you.

  - Thank you, Elias. - she smiled sleepily before returning to the inside of her room, rubbing her face as she looked at what she had that would be the right type of clothing to wear. In all honesty, Y/N didn’t feel like getting dressed up and go downstairs, however she knew she had to and with that she just picked one of her dresses along with a pair of shoes before quickly bringing herself back to the dinning hall.

It was a big hall which normally used to work as a restaurant yet, possibly due to the nature of the event, had been completely emptied and reserved by the Forrest family. There were candles everywhere which gave the room a dream-like yellow hue and for every candle existing there seemed to be a waiter holding golden trays with champagne flutes and other small entreés. She stepped in along with various other associates and their families, getting lost in the sea of people and soon blending with every single other smartly dressed people whom had paired up for various discussions. Y/N, however, remained in the same spot she had been for an hour, holding a champagne flute in one hand as she scanned every single aspect of the room. She was almost entirely sure Sebastian and Gwen had already entered the room judging by a much crowded area of the room, yet, Y/N still decided to remain

   - Not interested in congratulating the couple? - she turned her head to see a slightly taller than her man holding a champagne flute in his hand. He couldn’t be much older than her and like every single man in this room, was dressed in an expensive designer suit, his being a dark burgundy hue. Yet, unlike the other men around he had a much more boyish appearance to him with his short shaggy ginger hair and wide chocolate eyes. - I’m Jude Dubois, pleasure to make your acquittance.

  - The pleasure is all mine. I’m ...

  - Might I guess? - he politely interrupted her. - You’re surely from the Deschamps family. Those eyes are like their ID card, can spot one from across the room. 

  - I’m afraid you’re wrong. I’m Genevieve Forrest’s handmaid, my name is Y/N. 

  - I could swear you were one of the Deschamps. Either way it is my absolute pleasure to meet you, I’ve never met a handmaid before. 

  - It’s not the best type of person to meet. 

  - I must say I only introduced myself because you caught my eye, Miss. You are a very lovely woman. - Y/N merely thanked him for his statements, eyes wandering to the crowded place of the room, noticing Sebastian’s cerulean eyes glued to where she was standing before returning to look at his soon to be wife.

  - Will you excuse me, Mr. Dubois? - she wanted to get out of there, mostly due to her discomfort of the whole event but also with a sprinkling of pain of seeing Sebastian along with Gwen as if they were the closest of couples. 

Moving through the seas and seas of people too interested in getting a piece of the new couple, she found an open window with an empty balcony. Getting away from all the song and gossip, she leaned against the railing of the balcony, watching the full moon stood in the cold NY skies.

  - We need to talk. - Y/N didn’t bother turn her whole body around, merely rotating her head slightly to see Sebastian standing just a bit behind her. - When were you going to tell me about Paris?

  - I don’t know. - she actually didn’t know. She had mostly compartmentalised it in her brain, forgetting about it in the midst of all that seemed to be running through her mind. - I got the apartment from Mr. Forrest for Christmas, I never said I was gonna move immediately. I really meant to tell you.

  - Well, are you moving to Paris? - his hands subtly grasped her waist, moving her so she was fully facing him. His brows were ever so slightly lowered, a little bit closer to his eyes than usual which had tiny little crow’s feet on its sides. He was worried. 

  - I don’t know ... maybe? You’re gonna be with Gwen and I, I can’t stay with her forever. You said it so yourself that she might even move to LA.

  - Just because she might doesn’t mean you should.

  - And what are we gonna do? Are we gonna continue to do this behind Gwen’s back while you build a family with her? 

  - I’ll figure something out, angel. You have to trust me that I will, I promise I will. Please don’t leave. 

  - And what are you gonna figure out? You can’t cancel the wedding, it’s written down in contract. I don’t want to be the reason why there isn’t a reason for your relationship not to work.

  - There is no relationship between me or Gwen. Angel, c’mon, we’ll figure something else, I promise you. - his hands cupped her face. - Please.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @nikkipea​ @madisonpillstrom​ @cevans98​ @thelostallycat​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @anxiousdreamersworld​ @captainchrisstan​ @lookiamtrying​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @stuffforreferences​ @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen​ @nsfwsebbie​ @strangerliaa​ @emzd34​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​ @dreams-in-blxck​ 

[athenasbloodyspear]

Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter Two

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

Please note: This fic describes depression, anxiety, panic attacks, past/referenced non con and domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion.

________________________

You wake to a slight pounding in your skull right between your eyes and an extremely dry mouth. You groan and flop onto your back, squinting at the bright light streaming through the window. Rolling to glance at the clock on your nightstand you discover that it is 6:30 in the morning. It makes sense, you estimate you fell asleep somewhere around 7:30 last night.

You suddenly shoot straight up in bed, your heart pounding. Oh my god. Bucky. He carried you here last night. You’re still wearing your jeans and t-shirt from the night before. There’s a glass of water and two small white pills on your nightstand and your shoes are laying right next to the bed. He must have put you to bed. You don’t remember anything after he picked you up.

You flop back against the pillows and stare at the ceiling above your bed, watching the early morning light flicker. A small smile fights its way to your lips. You couldn’t stop the growing grin if you tried. Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes himself carried you to bed last night and for some reason your heart is leaping around in your chest. You can almost feel it bouncing around in your rib cage. What the hell is wrong with you?

You put both hands over your face and let yourself giggle for a moment. You feel like a teenager who just spoke to her crush for the first time. Your fingers are a little tingly and you feel like there are butterflies making a nest in your abdomen. After a few moments of this you suddenly decide you have to get your shit together and go thank him.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and standing up proved to be more painful to your brain than you expected. You had to promptly sit back down on your mattress as your head spun and your vision began to tunnel. You hated hangovers. They made you feel so dizzy and weak. You attempted standing again, slower this time, and took a second to orient yourself to your now vertical stance.

You were… giddy. It felt strange to be fully present in your body and feeling something beyond apathy, but it was also the most relieving feeling. You gave another small smile to yourself. You felt more like yourself than you had in months. Immediately upon realizing that, you heard a voice in your head start whispering things to you.

Don’t spend any time being happy. You’re an embarrassment. If he knew who you really are lately he wouldn’t waste any time on you.

Oof. Just like that all the wind left your sails. You could feel your shoulders curve instinctively. The voice in your head was technically right. Bucky would be so embarrassed and disappointed in you. He’d never look at you the same. None of them would. They respect you for your strength and resilience, and if they knew what happened they wouldn’t see you as strong anymore. You’re not the person who you thought you were. Everything about your personality that you loved had shattered into pieces about seven months ago and you didn’t even know what to do about it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. There had been a moment just now. A brief wonderful moment that you saw clarity. That you felt like the person you used to be. It had been months in a row of feeling like your head was stuck under water. The world felt blurry, the sounds around you were muffled. You felt like your lungs weren’t really getting the oxygen you needed. But for a moment this morning, with the sunrise reflecting off the metal beams of the ceiling, your head had crested the surface. You had taken a huge breath of air and felt the sun on your skin for the first time in such a long time.

How did it slip from you so quickly? You were sinking under again, but instead of the drifting feeling you’d had, it suddenly felt like every muscle in your body was kicking toward the surface. You didn’t want to drown anymore. You wanted to feel the sun on your hair and the breeze across the back of your neck. You wanted to run and run and run and actually feel the oxygen in your lungs.

It suddenly felt very dire that you move. That you didn’t stand here with your eyes closed in limbo. You had to move, go somewhere, do something, talk to someone or you’d fall deeper. You shoved your feet into your sneakers and stumbled out the door with no real direction in mind.

I suppose I could just go thank Bucky. That’s a good starting point.

You whip your feet to the right and head farther down the hall toward Bucky’s room. Once you approach his door and knock you have a moment of silence to organize your swirling thoughts.

What are you going to say to him? Thank you I guess. Oh god you were still in your clothes from last night and you’re positive that your breath is probably so rank it would kill flies. You swallow hard and take a reflexive step back from the door. If you’re farther away, he might not be able to smell you. You try to take a surreptitious sniff of your armpit and you actually don’t smell quite as bad as you expected, but you still don’t exactly smell as fresh as a daisy.

Your head is spinning, but he’s not coming to the door. It’s at this moment that you realize that it is in fact only 6:30 in the morning and it’s entirely possible that everyone stayed up much later than 7:00 last night and could still be sleeping. You slap a hand to your forehead. God you’re so spacey lately.

You whip around to head back to your room when Friday speaks into the hallway above you.

“Agent Barnes is not home, Y/N. Agents Barnes, Wilson and Parker left around 6:00 this morning on a short reconnaissance mission. They should be home this evening. Bucky did peek his head in your door this morning before they left. You woke shortly after.”

Ah. Okay then. So the two people you were thinking of trying to talk to this morning are gone. In fact, the person who probably would have been third on the list of doors to knock on is gone too. Shit. You still felt restless, like if you didn’t keep treading water you’d drown. Absentmindedly bouncing on the balls of your feet you chewed on a thumb nail. Friday spoke again.

“Natasha is downstairs in the kitchen making coffee. Just so you know.”

You look up at the ceiling. How did Friday know you needed to talk to someone? Was Tony watching and wanted you to talk to Nat? Did Nat ask Friday to tell you? Did you care?

“Thanks Friday.” You say to the ceiling. You spin and begin your walk to the elevators.

“Anytime.”

~0~

Nat was indeed making coffee in the kitchen. She looked up when you stepped in and smiled.

“Morning Y/N. How’s that head?”

You chuckled at that and shook your head, wincing a little as your brain sloshed around in your head. “It’s… a little painful I won’t lie.”

“Sit. Coffee, water, tylenol and a really messy egg sandwich will help.”

“Thank you, Nat.”

She turned and started the coffee machine before walking to the fridge to grab you a glass of water. You leaned over the counter and placed your forehead in your hands. Suddenly two tiny little pills and a glass of water were pushed into your field of vision. You lifted your head and saw Nat walking over to the stove with some butter, eggs, cheese and bread in hand.

“Thanks.” You swallow both pills and then spend the next few minutes just slowly trying to get as much water down as you can. When your glass is empty you stand up to refill when suddenly an egg sandwich is set down in front of you.

“Sit and eat. I’ll refill for you. Milk in your coffee?”

“Just a splash. Thank you, again.”

Nat smiles. “You’re welcome.” She returns with your coffee and fresh water in hand. As you dig into your sandwich she leans her back against the kitchen island across from you.

“So. It sounds like James had to carry your ass to bed last night. What’s up with that?” Nat tosses casually over her shoulder. There’s something in her voice that you can’t quite pick up on. There’s a subtext you’re missing.

“Um. I was drunk. On accident. I think I was just dehydrated and didn’t eat dinner. I almost fell on my ass so he uh… carried me.” You keep your eyes on your egg sandwich, your cheeks felt like they were on fire with your blush.

“Hm. I don’t remember you being such a lightweight. If I remember correctly, when we were in Vienna you nearly drank Thor under the table.” Nat quips.

You huff a laugh. You nearly had. God you missed that big hulking brute. You really hoped things were okay in Asgard. “Yeah… I just am out of practice I guess.” you say through a mouthful of eggs.

“I suppose that’s not the worst thing to be out of practice with.” Nat says, turning toward you fully this time. She’s looking at you like she asked you a question even though she definitely did not.

“I suppose” you mutter back. You hadn’t felt anxious since walking in the kitchen, but now theres a small seed of panic in your gut. You shift a little in your seat, shoving the last bite of egg sandwich in your mouth. She’s giving you her Black Widow interrogation stare and you don’t like it.

She breaks the silence. “You’re kinda also out of the ‘talking to your family’ practice.” The last bite of egg sandwich gets lodged in your esophagus. You choke and start hacking a cough as you try to force the suddenly very dry bits of bread down your throat. Nat just leans her elbows on the counter and lifts one eyebrow at you. “What’s up with that?”

“Oh. Um.” You’re sputtering as you try to get air back down your throat. “Uh. It’s nothing personal. Just kinda… don’t feel like talking.”

“Hmmm.” Nat hums as she leans back. She slaps her palms against the countertop. “Well, you better muster up the strength because Tony has a therapist scheduled to start coming here every other week. No ifs, ands or buts. You’re going to spend an hour every two weeks with her whether you ‘feel like it’ or not. Got it?” She turns to go.

“Yes ma’am.” You mutter.

“I thought I told you never to call me that again.” Nat tosses over her shoulder as she picks up her coffee and starts to exit the kitchen.

“It’s a reflex, Nat. It’s hard not to when someone talks to me like a commanding officer.”

She pushes her hips against the door to open it and rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever. She’ll be here at three tomorrow. You can meet her in the conference room. If you’d rather not be around with prying eyes it sounds like it’s gonna be sunny tomorrow. Maybe you could sit by the lake.” With that she leaves.

“Okay.” You say out loud to the empty room.

~0~

Even though your moment with Nat was brief this morning, and rather scathing, you still feel better than you did standing in the middle of your room this morning. You’re not quite on dry land, but you feel your nose and mouth are at least above water and you’re breathing more deeply.

You spend sometime in the gym. You go back to boxing and lifting some weights. You figure that part of Tony’s forced therapy is that he cares about you, and also probably that they need you back on the field. It’s rare that they send Peter on recon missions as they don’t like to pull him out of school if they can help it, so Steve and Tony must be a little short handed at the moment. You should probably start getting back into field shape. Although, with how much running you’ve been doing you could probably hold your own out there.

After working out and showering you decide to wander around the outside of the complex. Nat was right, the weather is pretty pleasant right now so you might as well get some fresh air.

You think about your impending date with a therapist tomorrow. You feel a small twinge of shame twist in your chest when you think of it. Steve and Tony are so busy all the time, and yet you let your own stupid emotions and inability to cope make them worried. They had to take care of you, again. It’s exactly the kind of self hatred spiral that you’d been sucked into lately.  

This was all just so unlike you. It was so antithetical to everything that you held as your core personality traits. The reason that Tony and Steve had hand picked you to be the one that got the final dose of super serum they had uncovered is because you were resilient. Time and time again, mission after mission you had kept a cool head. Rolled with the punches. You’d been knocked down, beaten, stabbed and shot and still stood back up and jumped back into the next mission they’d offer. Sometimes even begging to be sent out before you got your medical clearance.

You’d gotten along with the team instantly. Even back when you were just a basic agent running their com links. You’d been trying to coordinate a million different channels and Sam had made some sarcastic comment about how the new kid was causing interference on the channels. You’d been trying to juggle so many things at once that you hadn’t even registered that you had snapped back that if he could just be smart enough to block his head while fighting and keep his com from being bashed around, your job wouldn’t be so hard.

There had been a moment of silence on the other end of the line and then all at once 4 different com links lit up as laughter spilled into your ear piece. You’d heard Nat ribbing Sam for always forgetting to block his ears and Steve cackling that “the kid just really got you.” Tony was chuckling quietly and Sam was saying “Fair. Fair.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

That was who you were. Managing what felt like a thousand com links, and still making jokes. You were cracking up with Sam on the battlefield. Helping Nat try to set Steve up on dates while you were doing recon. Laughing while you and Bucky beat each other up on the sparring mats.

You didn’t know the person you had become this year. Laying on the floor of your living room for hours on end? Not answering the door when Peter came over after school? Not taking a single mission for nearly 9 months? It just started one day and then just snowballed and snowballed. The more you laid around, the more you just hated yourself for not being able to get back up.

I mean c’mon . You’d been shot once busting up an arms deal in Sudan and all you did was laugh before hopping back up and clobbering the guy over the head with a loose cement block. Bucky had panicked and run your way when he saw you get hit, insisting he medivac you out. You had just winced and put a hand over the hole in your shoulder and said “and miss all the action? No chance.”

It baffled you that you couldn’t pull it together now.

Maybe the therapist would be good. As much as you hated to admit it, you clearly needed help.

A rumble in the distance alerted you that the quinjet had arrived home. You wandered across the grass to the landing pad to say hi to your friends. You could thank Bucky for last night and maybe ask Peter to watch a movie tonight. Or you could help him with his homework, not that the kid needed it. Just something. You suddenly really didn’t want to be alone.

As you rounded the corner of the building and caught sight of everyone, you realized that everyone was running around a little too frantically for your comfort level. You heard Sam yell “Someone get him to the med wing.”

“On it!” That was Steve.

Your heart froze in your chest and you paused mid step. You felt very torn between running toward the jet, and running clear in the other direction. You weren’t sure if you could handle whatever it was that was happening. It was then that you saw Bucky walking down the ramp of the jet with a red suited body cradled in his arms.

Your heart restarted with a vengeance and your feet moved on their own. Sprinting toward the jet. A choked “Peter!” ripped from your lungs.

As you stepped up on the landing pad Sam caught you around the waist and pulled you back. “He’s fine Y/N. He’s gonna be fine. Just needs some stitches and a concussion check.”

You were panting hard as you stood up on your tiptoes to peek over Sam’s shoulder in time to see Bucky pass Peter to Steve. You placed both palms on Sam’s chest and pushed with all your strength to get him out of your way. It was unfair, you used all your super strength against him. His breath wooshed from his chest as he skidded a few feet back. You started your dash towards Peter again before two arms, one warm and one cold, wrapped around your waist and dragged you backward.

“Stop. Stop sweetheart. Give him space. He’s just dazed.” Bucky grunted as you slammed into his chest. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he dragged you backwards away from the retreating form of Steve. Your hands scrambled for purchase over his arms. Pushing with all your strength against the metal and flesh wrapped around your middle. He, unlike Sam, did not budge.

This was your fault. You couldn’t get your shit together and Peter had to go on a mission for you and he got hurt. It was your own damn fault.

“Breathe. Please breathe for me. C’mon baby breathe.” Bucky was lowering you down to your knees now. You were suddenly aware of the concrete of the landing pad beneath your knees. Your breaths were ragged and choked. You felt like you were breathing through a straw. “Whoa whoa whoa sweetheart. You have to breathe for me.”  

Bucky was on his knees now in front of you. He had pushed back a bit so he could look into your face, but his arms were still wrapped tightly around you. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he tried to get you to match the pace of his breathing. You couldn’t tear your eyes off the door that Steve had just walked through.

“I can’t” you choked out. “Peter.” It felt like your throat was closing up. Where was the oxygen in the world?

“He’s fine. I promise. He got a little distracted and someone bashed him over the head with a two-by-four. He probably needs like 2 stitches in his eyebrow. He was also a little panicked and dazed, that’s why I was carrying him. It’s fine.” Your eyes flicked to Bucky. He was scanning your face now. He looked absolutely petrified.

“You’re lying. You’re lying to me right now. I have to get to him.” You tried to stand up. To push him away. Bucky and his damn bionic arm didn’t move.  

Bucky wraps his arms tighter around you and pulls you back down. You’re basically smashed against his chest now. He lets out a frantic humorless laugh “I am not lying to you. I’m terrified because you’re hyperventilating and I need you to breathe. Now.”

All at once your muscles go slack and tense at the same time. You stop fighting Bucky as it registers just how low on oxygen you are. Your heart is pounding nearly out of your chest and your throat keeps getting smaller. “I-can’t” you choke. Your chest spasms a bit as your abdominal muscles clench. You feel tears burning behind your eyes. Over Bucky’s shoulder Sam looks on with an equally panicked look on his face. He has one foot pointing away from you like he’s wondering if he should go get someone but doesn’t want to leave in case you need him.

“Yes you can. I know you can. Just match me, okay?” Bucky murmurs in your ear. His flesh hand is running smooth lines down your spine and he’s rocking your body very slowly back and forth. He takes a very deep breath and you splutter and choke as you try to force your lungs to match his pace. “That’s my girl. C’mon keep following my chest.”

Your body collapses fully against Bucky now. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and hiccup as you try to force your lungs into breathing cyclically in time with him.

The burn behind your eyes increases and you feel yourself slipping backwards. You’re falling deeper into the water the way you were this morning. Falling away from the sun and the breeze.

“I’m drowning. I’m drowning, Bucky. Oh god.” You pant.

Bucky whipped back to look you in the eyes “What?” he breathed. He was scanning your whole face and body, like he was looking for the source of water in your lungs. He didn’t know you meant it figuratively.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me Bucky. I’m so scared.” You whispered. You could barely keep your eyes open. Seeing the pain on his face, the look of pure terrified confusion on Sam’s face was so painful.  

Bucky brought his metal hand up to cup your cheek. “It’s okay. It’s okay Doll. I’ve got you. Sam’s here. It’s okay.”

You buried your face into his neck again. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t explain. With your head buried, you missed Bucky throw a questioning look over his shoulder at Sam. You missed Sam shrugging his shoulders. Both of your friends, at a loss of how to help you. All they knew to do at the moment was make sure you were breathing.

The tears finally came. Big, hot, wet tears pouring from your eyes. Your body shaking with the force of them finally escaping after months of holding them in. You were incoherent. Babbling now as you just tried to rid your body of this demon of pain that seized every muscle. “Oh my god Bucky. I just… I let him do this to me. I… I’m such an idiot. I just… oh god” you were practically seizing in his arms now, he was holding tight to you like he was trying to keep pieces of you from cracking off.  

“What?” He choked out.

“Him!” You wailed. “I let him hurt me. I let him destroy who I am and I don’t even know why.”

Bucky was running a hand through your hair now. Softly whispering “Shhh it’s okay. It’s okay” into your neck. Sam had moved closer and placed a hand on your shin in quiet support. He had his head bowed and was looking at the concrete. You stayed in your tableau for a long time. Like a renaissance painting frozen in time. Slowly your heart beat went back to a steady rhythm and your breathing evened out.

Eventually, you sniffled and leaned back to look at Bucky. You were sure your hair was a mess, your face was splotchy and you probably had snot and tears running down your whole face. In fact, you probably got snot all over him. You really hoped it didn’t mess up anything in his arm.

Bucky looked at you quietly. He seemed to be waiting for you to speak, offering you a life preserver in a sea of uncertain emotions. Your voice was raspy when you finally spoke “I want to see Peter.”

Bucky just nodded and picked you up to set you on your feet. He backed away with his hands still on your hips, like he was worried you couldn’t stand on your own. “I’m okay.” you mumbled as you tried to smooth out your hair and use the sleeve of your t-shirt to wipe up your face. “I can stand. I’m okay.”

You turned and started walking back into the compound, the two of them flanking you as you began the trek to the med wing.

~0~

Upon arriving in the medical wing you snagged a tissue from a nearby box and tried to wipe up the rest of your face. You glanced at your reflection in one of the nearby glass panels and winced at how puffy and blotchy your face was. You tried to rub your face to even out the tone of your skin, but there was nothing you could do about how puffy your eyes were.

After walking farther down the hall you spotted Peter. Sitting up on a table where Dr. Cho was shining a light in both of his eyes. As you stepped into the room you just heard her say “A slight concussion. You should be cleared for activity in a week or so.” Before turning to put away all of her instruments.

“Hi.” You squeaked out. When Peter turned his eyes in your direction you nearly burst into tears again. He had brightened and smiled at the sound of your voice, but when his eyes hit your face his smile fell.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Sliding off the table to walk over to you. You glanced behind you and saw Bucky and Sam hovering just outside the door of the room. They were very obviously trying to watch you without looking like they were watching you.

“I think that’s my line.” You chuckle as Peter wraps you in a hug. Over your shoulder, Peter shoots a questioning look at Sam and Bucky.

Sam speaks up. “Someone got a little freaked when you got carried off the jet.”

Peter pulls back to look at you again. “Oh god Y/N. I’m okay. I promise. I just got a little overwhelmed when I realized I had let my guard down and panicked, and then I got dazed when I got whacked on my head. I’m okay.” When Peter notices the water fill up in your eyes he pulls you back in. “Oh please don’t cry. I’m fine. Just four stitches is all.”

“Bucky said you were only gonna need two.” You grumbled into his chest. Peter snorted. In the hall Bucky humphed.

“Four is not that far off, okay? I was close.”

Peter was rubbing his hands up and down your arms and laughing softly. “You know I think I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,” you noted, “this is sort of backwards.” Then all three of them were chuckling. You pulled back from Peter to look at him. “I’m sorry for being a baby, you just scared me.”  

“ I scared you?” Peter questioned “I think normally it’s you who shows up here all bloody and unconscious scaring the hell out of me, so I guess it was my turn.”

You chuckled a bit and grinned at Peter. His eyes lit up when he caught the upward tilt of your lips and he hauled you back against his chest. “I missed you, Y/N.” Peter said quietly.

“I’m right here, Peter.”

“Yeah, you are.” Peter sighed. Then he pulled back to look at you again. “Movie night? Maybe in the common room so everyone can watch? We haven’t finished the Fast the Furious movies yet.”

“Oh god I’m not watching if you’re past the third one.” Sam groaned from the hall. “They just went downhill after that.”

“Good news for you then birdman, we’re on Tokyo Drift.” Peter called out as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to walk you out of the room.

“Who you calling birdman, spider punk?” Sam shot back.

You snorted. All three of them whipped their heads to look at you. “What?” you asked indignantly, “It was funny!”

Bucky reached out and mussed your hair. “There she is.”

You pushed back against his arm. “Oh shut up, Terminator.”

Sam buckled over and held his stomach as he cackled, Peter’s chest shook next to you.

“What’s a terminator?” Bucky asked, making Peter and Sam laugh harder. Peter had to lift his arm off of your shoulder to put his hands on his knees.

You patted Buck on his metal shoulder. “I’ll tell you when you’re even older, you dinosaur.”

Sam and Peter stumbled forward down the hallway together, wheezing through their laughter. Their arms placed on each other's shoulders, quoting the terminator and wiping tears from their eyes.

You and Bucky followed behind them on your way to the common space. When Peter and Sam were far enough out of ear-shot Bucky spoke.

“You okay?”

You glanced over at him. He had his eyes on the two men stumbling down the hall together ahead of you. He was trying for nonchalance, but you could tell he was still on edge.

“Yeah, Buck. I am. I will be.”

He turned to look at you then. His lips curled up into the smallest of smiles, but it was enough to get you to return one. He threw his arm over your shoulder and dragged your head into his shoulder as you kept walking. “Yeah you will.”

And he was right. You would be. Not all at once. Not right away. But you would be. The sounds of your two friends laughing up the hall was proof.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hurricane (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.1k Warning: Small bit of cussing Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

A/N: This series was inspired by an anon prompt request for “protection”. I hope I did it justice! This is a multi part story.  ALSO I love Gatsby and Fitzgerald and so self-indulgent in this chapter 🤣

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Once Becca and Ethan brought order back to Naveen’s kitchen, she bounded back into the dining room with a bottle of pinot noir in each hand for them all to share much to everyone’s elation. Ethan hung back during the first bottle, opting to gather blankets and towels for the guests. 

The group of gossips played card games and continued letting the conversation flow as freely as Naveen’s hand. Running out of hospitable things to keep him occupied, Ethan poured himself a generous glass and observed the people around him. With much convincing from the group he eventually gave in to the pressure and joined the game of ‘Bullshit’. When that got boring they moved rooms in the name of tranquil comfort. 

They all sat in the living room watching Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby as the storm raged on outside. Naveen was quick to make sure everyone had copious amounts of wine and cheese before retiring to bed. Without the scrutiny of his father figure Ethan felt he could be a little more carefree. 

Under the cover of darkness Ethan let himself drape his arm behind Becca against the back of the love-seat, making sure to keep his touch a distance away, the soft cushions dipped under the weight of his muscle. She felt the warmth of his presence along the base of her neck. The short invisible hairs stood up at the electricity emitting off him, igniting her senses in the best possible way. Becca smiled to herself, moving a bit closer to him so their sides were completely touching. She leaned into him just enough that the fabric of their clothes were pressed flat against the other.  

Her eyes darted around the dark cabin. Elijah had moved from his wheelchair and to the edge of the three-seater sofa. Sienna sat next to him in the middle and was now lounging out over Naveen’s deserted seat with a throw pillow cuddled deep in her small embrace. 

The coast was clear. Everyone was too engrossed in the film to pay any mind to the diagnosticians on their left. 

Boldly, Becca rested her head gingerly on the curve of Ethan’s shoulder. Her friends were none the wiser. 

Pushing their luck a bit further Ethan slid his arm closer to her shoulder blades. She reciprocated their game by placing a hand carefully on his muscular thigh. 

Ethan’s enchanting blue eyes did their own quick survey of the scene to make sure Sienna and Elijah were still oblivious. When he was certain her friends were too caught up on the imagery, Ethan cupped his free hand over hers. The corner of Becca’s lips noticeably perked as she laced their fingers together. 

“I love this story,” she whispered into his ear. 

“Why? It’s a tragedy. There is not one likable character in the whole plot,” he whispered back.  

“That’s what makes it so compelling. They’re flawed and real.” 

Before Ethan could rebuke, her favorite line was about to be said. 

“Gatsby? What Gatsby?” she mimicked looking over to Ethan. 

Her eyes held the same adoration reflecting from Daisy Buchanan’s character. It was hopeless and all-consuming, fiery and full of… something Ethan couldn’t place. All he knew was when that line fell delicately off her tongue he couldn’t help but parallel the feeling of him and Becca being the only two people in the universe. Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her. That one smile full of eternal reassurance and pride, making it as if his whole world revolved around her in that soulful moment. A glimpse into who Ethan was and not who Dr. Ramsey needed to be.  

Becca was mere inches away. One movement and it would all be over. Her eyes flickered down to his lips and back to the large television screen, ever so enchanted by the modern classic playing out before them. Ethan was thankful for her lack of focus. He let out the breath he was holding in he held onto her hand just a bit tighter. 

As the evening passed on Ethan let himself fall a bit more into comfort. 

For a brief moment he thought maybe, just maybe, everything could be this simple. They could be together and the people in their lives could all know, and no one would care. No careers could be in turmoil by the mere mention of their romantic relationship. 

No politics. Just love. 

Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works. 

Ethan was far too well-versed in cynicism to let himself fall any further than this moment. Holding hands in the darkness was all they could ever have with others around. He let the moment last, trusting her word that her friends wouldn’t destroy their ephemeral happiness. 

No, that was destined for them. 

Once the credit scene began to roll Sienna was the first to disturb the peace. 

“Come on I think it’s time for bed,” she sat up and tapped a dozing Elijah on the shoulder. 

Sienna dared to glance over at the love-seat - doing a double take to make sure it was really, truly happening before her very eyes. There in the warm glow cascading off the television was Becca curled up against Dr. Ramsey. Ethan was cradling her against him with his right arm securely at her waist as his left held up a book. He began reading the closest literature he could find towards the end of the film when he was sure Becca was asleep and wouldn’t castrate him. Neither diagnostician made an attempt to move. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Elijah agreed, lazily moving back into his chair while Sienna made sure to put the pillow back where she found it. “Night Becca, Dr. Ramsey,” he called as Sienna wheeled him to their room for the next few days.  

“Goodnight, Dr. Greene. Trinh,” Ethan acknowledged without breaking focus on his book. 

Once the friends were safely in their room with a click of the door Ethan began to migrate, casting the book aside and reaching for the remote on Becca’s armrest to shut the television off. 

“No,” she whined as his small motions rock her gently to disturb her slumber. 

With a smirk Ethan scoffed, “You’re basically asleep.”

Becca grumbled back as she threw her arms over her eyes, “I don’t care.” 

Ethan took the challenge and swiftly rose to his feet. Becca’s cheek immediately met the crater in the cushion as she flopped down without her supporter. 

“Hey!” her objection was partially muffled by the old paisley printed cushion.  

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle at his resident. Her legs were still awkwardly folded under herself and he’d imagine they’d at least be tingly with pins and needles by now, she still had her jeans on and her top exposed the pale skin of her midriff, and her brown locks were wildly strewn about. With a bemused shake of his head he brought the remainder of the dishes into the kitchen. 

When he came back Becca hadn’t moved an inch, her body still lolled to the side where he was previously sat. 

In four long strides Ethan was back in front of her. Becca heard his shallow footsteps yet was too comfortable to acknowledge his presence. Suddenly the couch flew out of under her and Becca was in free fall. Before she could open her eyes taut muscle and bone made contact with her rib-cage. 

Ethan had slung her over his shoulder. 

“Ethan!” she hissed. Normally Becca would appreciate the delicious view of this new position however the generous amount of wine mixed with the blood rushing to her head was not working in her favor.  

“Shush, you’ll wake everyone up.” Becca’s bottom jiggled from Ethan’s playful smack. 

She argued back, “You woke me up!”  

“It was that or have a stiff neck tomorrow,” Ethan began to rationalize as he took each step carefully so as to not to lose his balance. “And I’m not dealing with your complaints.”

Naveen’s master bedroom was large with glorious vaulted ceilings and exposed wooden beams. It was much too big for one person. Keeping with the cabin theme, the bed was wooden with four tall posts, the outer wall was lined with windows looking out over the river, and the adjoining bathroom led right into a modest yet bare walk-in closet. 

Ethan placed Becca down on the soft springform mattress conscientiously. She reveled in the waft of cinnamon and cedar of the quilt and deep red cotton sheets. Becca appreciated how Naveen also had an affinity for pillows - four medium firm and two down were waiting patiently for her noggin. Becca was too enticed by sleep to rummage for pajamas in her bag. Instead she began to unbutton her jeans haphazardly from her horizontal position. 

Ethan watched as she fumbled continuously, not quite grasping the button enough to pop it through the hole. After the fourth try he swatted her hands away, taking the reins. Ethan expertly flicked the button, dragged the zipper down and freed Becca’s legs from the thick day-ridden material. She sighed as the cool air met her clean-shaven skin. Her toes then hooked and flicked off her socks while she sat up and pulled her shirt off.  

 Sitting cross-legged on top of the duvet in just her nude bra and purple lace panties she asked, “Staying or going?” 

Her jeans were now folded on top of the wardrobe where Ethan stood with a cocked eyebrow, “What do you think?”

BOOM! 

A close clack of thunder rattled the wood causing them both to jump. 

CLACK! 

TSS

“Fuck!” she screamed in exasperation as quietly as she could. “Do you think a tree fell?” 

“Rookie, are you scared?” 

“No. I’ve been through loads of hurricanes,” she asserted, moving up the bed to crawl safely under the covers. “There's just a lot of wood around here. One wrong bolt and we’re all up in flames.” 

Ethan perched himself at the edge of the bed next to her nearly nude form. “I highly doubt that will happen.” 

“But it could happen.” 

“Theoretically.”

The covers sat around Becca’s waist. Her supple curves of her exposed breasts called to him. Ethan began to reach for her but the rational doctor did all he could to stop himself from caressing the addictive skin. Instead his hand rested on her inner thigh, just the thin duvet separating their warmth. Her hair was a frizzy halo around her rounded face and her lips stained deep indigo from all the red wine. And yet she was still - always, so beautiful. 

She watched as his eyes trail over her and his chest rose and fell a tad quicker.   

“You should stay. I know you want to.” 

“You know I can’t.” 

“You know they already think we’re dating anyway.” 

Ethan was taken aback at the brazen accusation but not enough to remove his hold on her, “We are doing what?” Instinctively his calloused fingers tightened their grip slightly. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she all but rolled her eyes at his idiocy. After a beat, her brown eyes fixated on his expert hand, she added, “Ethan… are you single?” 

Her small voice was full of shaken vulnerability. She yanked the covers up higher, releasing his hold on her, and curled herself further into them, shielding herself from his answer. Or lack thereof, there were too many seconds hanging in the space between them.  

He reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear. The wait was killing her. 

“No… I’m not.” 

Those words. Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? She couldn’t recall anything other than him at this moment moving in closer to her. Their noses brushed every so slightly, his affirming and hopeful words lingering warm against her flushed cheeks. 

“Stay,” she breathed. 

The way she was imploring him could crumble the Great Wall of China. Every ounce of Ethan’s resolve came crumbling down as he finally admitted his feelings to the universe. He thought she knew by now how he was irrevocably hers without words needing to be shared. Dr. Ethan Ramsey would continue living a solitary life until he could freely be able to love Dr. Rebecca Lao and without fear of completely destroying her bright future. 

Ethan wanted so badly to dive into the covers with her and never come back up - her sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. But the little voice in the back of his head told him not to cut the line just yet.  

“Only until you fall asleep,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t want Naveen thinking we were being indecent in his bed. He’d never let me hear the end of it.” 

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