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#more gif testing.... cleared my dailies today for once
atbgauge · 3 months
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Possession
Barnabas Tharmr x fem reader Mentions of injury, possessive behaviour, bad Barney vibes 2,480 words
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It had been foolish to ever think you could ever escape Barnabas’ notice when you’d set foot on the battlefield that day. No matter where you’d be in Castle Black – an endless maze of corridors, staircases and chambers – Barnabas or Sleipnir could always find you, even when you weren’t sure exactly where you’d ended up yourself.
As you sliced down another beastman in your wake, saving a soldier’s head in the process, an armoured figure manifested behind you, throwing an arm around your neck and pulling you back into their chest.
“My, my, what do we have here?” Sleipnir’s voice tickled into your ear as you squirmed.
“This isn’t the time, they’re advancing-"
“Ah, ah, ah,” He tsks. “My liege has bid me to remove you from here at once. Come.” You hadn’t tried to hide yourself away in the depths today, instead simply returned to your chambers, changed out of your armour and into one of the many dresses Barnabas had commissioned for you – all in a complementary inky blue and black to match his own threads. You sit down on the edge of your bed, take a steadying breath and await the inevitable summon by the Lord Commander to atone for your disobedience.
You fiddle with the crystal-infused bracelets around your left wrist – one on each, crafted with orichalcum. The only thing that could break them was Odin’s grip. You’d tried to remove them of course - trying to slip them over your hand using all methods of slick – water, soap, oil… and blood, from when you’d tried too hard.
They hurt. A dull, constant ache from being cut off from your ability to manipulate aether - something you’d done for years for the people of your village, with the blessing of Leviathan.
Not that you’d ever primed, though.
Being the Dominant of Leviathan was something Barnabas appeared to deem you unworthy of, but one that you could prove yourself under his tutelage and care. You hadn’t had much choice in the matter – it was come willingly, or come unwillingly and watch your village be razed to the ground. The bracelets come off only under his watchful eye on very rare occasions, and always sealed back on before too long under his heated palms – no trace of the crack that was once there, the seams perfectly melded once more.
Years you’ve been here, studying the religious word, tutored in the blade by Odin himself, and Sleipnir when the king was preoccupied with other duties. You were taken through daily grueling training regimes, before you began to take on opponents from the Waloeder army itself. Never to kill – Barnabas was clear about that – but to test your skill for the day you will face Mythos. But until then, there was never any talk of you being sent out to battle, despite the amount of times the Enherjar had set sail with bloodshed in her sights.
And though the result of your training over the years is clear - your prowess with the blade, your form complimented often by the king - you were still banned from the battlefield, even when the conflict is on the doorstep, the enemy hammering upon the very doors of the keep.
Whispers of Ultima in your ear, your part in his grand plan, yet never allowed to meet.
Benedikta, on the other hand, is often sent out on missions – the latest being to get Hugo Kupka on side by any means. She is not fettered either, using Garuda’s strength at will, even to send strong gusts to try and topple you in the courtyard for her own amusement.
“You, little lamb, are too delicate,” she’d pinch at you with her words, then grasp at your wrist in amusement, squeezing at the bracelet as if to dig it into your skin. “Not to be trusted with your own power, hm?”
She was sent out with her own men – a troop she’d hand-selected to serve by her side. Complimented by Barnabas on her return for her exemplary work, rewarded with a feast, toasted with overflowing cups of wine.
Should you want to be praised by your captor? Was he even truly that anymore? You hadn’t tried to leave once. It seemed pointless. But, after so many years in his company, you’d be a liar to ignore the gnawing ache to be accepted by him.
A cursory knock announces Sleipnir’s arrival. You get to your feet and open the door, stepping out without being prompted or coerced. He bows – mockingly perhaps, but you could never really tell – and nods at your attire in approval before he grabs you by the crook of your elbow in a pincer-type grip. He doesn’t need to tell you that you’ve been summoned.
You walk in silence for a while, his grip remaining firm, until you break the silence, noting you are not heading to the throne room.
“Where are we going?”
“The king has requested your presence in his chambers, my lady.”
That makes your stomach squirm – you’d never been summoned to his chambers before. “Don’t coddle me, Sleipnir, how bad is it?”
He looks over to you and smiles, as if you’d told a joke. “I’d advise holding your tongue, my lady, or I fear you may well lose it.”
“Ah.”
You reach Barnabas’ chambers at the top of Castle Black all too soon and Sleipnir pauses, letting go of your elbow but then his fingers immediately begin to fiddle with your hair. Your braids had loosened from the exertion in the fight - it would be unwise to greet your king unkempt.
“There.” He concludes, happy with his work. “This is where I must leave you. I do so hope to see you again, my lady.” He smirks, holding an arm across his chest as he bows. His final act is to knock once upon the heavy oak doors before he opens them and shoves you inside before you can show any hesitation.
Barnabas Tharmr, Warden of Ash, King of Waloed, Dominant of Odin is sat on his bed, facing the window away from you. From his stance, you can tell he has his legs spread wide as he leans back, his arms propped behind, keeping him upright and his fingers are gripped tightly on the inky blue satin sheets.
The door behind you closes and your heart feels it might beat out of your chest in trepidation.
Barnabas leans forward then, lifting his right hand in the air, snapping his fingers once – the sound echoing around the chamber like a bolt - before pointing down at the floor in front of him and lowering his hand once more.
You walk around the bed then, obediently, and kneel at his feet without looking at him, tucking your legs beneath you, bowing your head down low as if you made to kiss his boots - the way he demands and expects to be greeted.
“You, little one, defied my orders.”
You take this as the moment pertinent to Sleipnir’s advice from before, and remain silent, staring at his legs instead – leather splattered with dirt from the ground and the blood of his enemies. He can’t have been long back. The man is all leathers, belts wrapped around his thighs and waist, some embossed with silver. You wonder how long it takes him to dress in the morning, whether Sleipnir assists.
“I was abundantly clear that you were to remain inside, little one.” He knows that nickname irritates you – it has done for years – it belittles your place in his court, so he delights in using it. He refuses to use your name, or maybe it’s just been so long he’s forgotten. “Yet what do I find? You, on the battlefield, swinging around the very blade that I crafted for you, that I gifted you, that I taught you how to wield, sullied with the blood of beastmen that I bid you stay away from.”
You still hold your tongue.
His hand grips your chin then, tilting your head up to face him with a jerk and your eyes meet his – full of disapproval.
“Speak.”
“I could not sit idle any longer.”
He barks out a laugh as he lets go. “Idle? Whatever do you mean, little one? You have your duties to attend to within the castle.”
“But Benedikta is-”
“You are not her.” He leans down over you now and your eyes are drawn to a dark patch on his shirt – he hadn’t been wearing armour on the field, too cocky. “I will not entertain this foolishness again.”
He moves back slightly and you see the sliced flesh, blood oozing from within.
“You’re hurt.”
“I was distracted.” He growls in annoyance, tugging his shirt to cover the wound from your sight.
“By me?”
He doesn’t reply.
“You need to take care of that.” You press. “You’ll bleed out.”
He smiles, almost as if he’s amused. “And you would care if I did, little one?”
Would you? If Barnabas perished, would that mean you’d be free to return home – or whatever was left of it? Your questions about how your village fared were never answered. Would the bracelets cease to be, or would you spend the rest of your days with them trapped around your wrists?
But there it is again, that gnaw to be accepted, praised, cherished… Barnabas had slowly became your whole world, after all.
“Yes.” You whisper. “I could… I mean, if you’d permit me, I could...”
He snatches your wrist quickly, his fingers pinching around and there is a crack which makes you flinch. You expect pain to follow, that he’s lashed out and broken your wrist for even daring to suggest such a thing – that Odin would need healed of all things – but there is only a clatter as the crystal-infused bracelet hits the stone floor.
The second one follows in quick succession and it’s as if you’ve taken your first breath of air, that hollow ache in your soul finally filled once more as your connection to the aether is restored.
Barnabas presses a tender kiss to the wrist still in his grip and it makes you shiver. “They will go back on as soon as you are finished.” The statement cuts through your euphoria.
“Of course.” You nod. “Could you lie down, please?”
He does rather dramatically, it must be said - falling flat on his back on his bed with his arms spread. You get to your feet and climb up, kneeling besides him and hover your hand above his chest, hesitant.
He smirks. “You may touch your king, little one.”
You tug gently at his shirt, revealing the full severity of the wound at last. It is a nasty, lengthy slice across his chest, blood seeping at pace, but Barnabas doesn’t even seem phased.
“It’ll leave a scar.”
“Good. It will serve as a reminder to us both.”
You flex your fingers, drawing in the aether around you until it manifests into a glimmering liquid in your hands – the healing waters of Leviathan. You smooth it onto his skin and if he feels any pain from your touch he does not flinch. You then press down your palms on top of the injured flesh and will it to heal.
It only takes a moment – the flesh knitting together under your touch, leaving pink, puckered skin, and then all that remains is the slick of blood.
“It’s done.”
He hums a moment, looking wistfully up at the ceiling.
“Mother would kiss it better.”
You feel your cheeks flush. It’s a command, albeit very thinly veiled. You wet your lips with your tongue and lean down, placing a hand back onto his chest to balance yourself and kiss the new scar, softly, blood and all.
As you sit back up, he follows you, catching your chin once more and swipes his thumb across your lips.
“A little red upon your lips is most pleasing, little one.”
He holds your gaze for a moment and you know what it means. You lean over the side of the bed and pick up the bracelets, presenting them to him.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing one around your wrist. You don’t know how he does it – perhaps in the same way his beloved sword manifests - but within a second the bracelet is sealed back on. There’s not even a seam from where it was snapped. The second follows quickly and you wince as the connection to the aether is once more is severed – a stolen breath that you’ll never quite catch.
You expect him to dismiss you now, so you hang your head low, awaiting your instructions like the loyal pet you’ve become.
“Tell me - do you truly not know why I forbade you from the battlefield?”
You bite your lip, fists clenching. “I am not worthy of the power of my Eikon, I know, but how am I meant to earn it if I am not permitted to…?” He grabs you by the chin again, tilting your head up and silencing you with a squeeze.
“I have no doubt of your prowess with the blade – I taught you myself, after all.” He boasts, releasing your chin then only to cup your face with calloused fingers. “No, I forbade you because they are not worthy of you. I will not have you mingle with those below your station.”
“My station?”
“You are a gift from the Almighty. I would not be so careless with the treasure our lord has bestowed me. I vowed to keep you safe under my watch until Mythos is ready.”
“But Benedikta can-” You try and back out of his grip but his hands remain firm.
“Ah, little one is jealous,” he grins, amused. “You have nothing to fear. Whilst she occasionally warms my bed, it is you who warms my cold heart. I beg your forgiveness for not making that abundantly clear, but allow me to rectify.”
Before you can question, one arm drops to around your waist, the other to the back of your head and he pulls you forward, crushing his lips to yours. Your hands press up against his chest, ready to push him away.
You should push him away, but you don’t.
You definitely shouldn’t kiss him back, but you do.
You can feel his victorious smirk in his kisses – he has you exactly where he wants you and you don’t mind. It’s nice to be held, to be wanted…
He bites your lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make you gasp and he takes advantage to slip his tongue in, running his fingers up and down your spine, making you squirm.
“Do not worry, my lady,” he pulls back, keeping his fingers dug into your scalp, a possessive look in his eyes. “I will make sure you do not sit idle again.”
--
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buckyswinterbaby · 4 years
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Always By My Side — Chapter 1
Click here to read the Prologue.
Synopsis: The fates have spent millenniums correcting the daily mishaps that interfere with soulmates ever meeting. Will they find a way to bring together Bucky and Zara, two people separated by time and circumstance, just as they’ve done a thousand times before?
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!OFC Ziarah Heartwell
Warnings (will change with each chapter): flashbacks, PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault, angst, bits of fluff
Word Count: 3,791
Acknowledgement: I’ve created this AU alongside my best friend Taylor in roleplays, along with many of the plots and scenes that will be featured. I’m posting this with his expressed permission as we both continue to work on the story in our chat. Credit for its creation goes to both of us.
Please like, comment, and reblog (I love that shit). The divider was created by me, please credit me if you use it. The gifs are not mine. Click here to fill out the form to be added to my tag list!
Note: Here’s chapter one of my new series “Always By My Side”. It takes place in a soulmate AU where a bond is triggered when one or both halves experience a life threatening level of distress. The bond allows them to see imaginary versions of their soulmates to help support them while they wait to meet their other half. Just a warning, up until we reach the current time in the story, there will be significant time skips for plot progression’s sake. The time changes will always be labeled.
Addition: I said I’d tag you when I posted my WOC OFC story so here’s chapter one, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer !
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[Bucharest, Romania -- 2016]
The Romanian streets were bustling with early morning energy as Bucky took the final steps outside of the clearly worn apartment complex that he had been calling home for sometime. He seemed unfazed by the sixteen year old girl practically jogging to keep up in step with his longer strides. He had grown rather accustomed to her presence and her commentary since she first appeared to him in 2014. It had been during his final brainwashing session with Hydra before they fell. He couldn’t help but view her as a banshee of sorts, harkening the end of what remained of his mental stability. He couldn’t fathom another reason as to why he would hallucinate an opinionated teenage girl.
Even so, he found comfort in their conversations and how at ease she seemed around him. Almost as if she had always been with him, a piece of himself that still saw the good that was left. Never addressing him with fear or apprehension, never as the monster and killer he was forced to become.
Her features were young and innocent, seemingly unscarred by life despite the bruises that graced her skin--which he was never sure why they existed. At first, he feared that she had been one of his countless victims who had returned to haunt him in her afterlife, though the theory became less likely to him as more time passed.
The defined coils of her hair were pushed up into a messy bun, edges laid smoothly to her forehead in defined loops. When she first started showing up, Bucky had attempted to make sense of the witty phrases and references that so frequently adorned her clothes but he had long since given up on ever understanding them. He had to admit that the shirt she wore that day, a middle finger painted with pink, yellow, and blue, was quite the fashion choice. Not that he could particularly judge with his similar pieces of clothing that were practically identical besides in color.
The pair made their way down the familiar stretch of pavement on their way to the outdoor market that Bucky had made a habit of visiting. He had found that a reliable schedule throughout his week helped him better grasp the passing of time, a fact that his companion had been informing him of for weeks before it finally seemed to click.
The girl’s nose clinked as they neared the fresh fish stand, just as it did every week. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at her childish antics as they were so few and far between for someone who seemed quite mature despite her appearance.
“It smells like cat food,” she whined, making a clear act of breathing primarily through her mouth as she jogged to keep up. “How are you not gagging?”
“Not all of us have the luxury of being a figment of someone’s imagination, Zara. If I start gagging, I have a feeling a few people will start to notice.” The man gave her a knowing look. Drawing attention to himself was the exact opposite of what he wanted during his brief outings. “Besides, I can’t say I’ve smelt cat food or have any intention to. So I’ll just have to take your word for it.”
Zara rolled her eyes as the smell began to dissipate the further they moved past the stand, her trademark smile working its way onto her features. “Could’ve had me fooled, I thought that was your guilty pleasure. I can’t say I’ve ever intentionally gotten a whiff, but when I feed the outdoor cats at my house, it’s kinda unavoidable.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if it was the most natural thing in the world for an imaginary person to have their own home and animals.
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes down to her smaller form beside him. “You don’t have a cat because you aren’t even real,” he retorted. Somehow the idea that she could be real made her presence in his life even harder. The idea that she was just some girl he had passed by in the street or on a mission and his brain decided she’d make the ideal emotional support apparition.
“Who are you to declare that?”
“The creepy hundred year old man who hallucinates a sixteen year old girl, occasionally in her pajamas, for one.” His voice raised a bit louder than he intended, drawing the attention of a few nearby pedestrians. Bucky offered them an awkward smile before ducking back down under the bill of his hat and picking up his pace a bit. She couldn’t argue with his logic so she focused on keeping up until they reached their destination, the produce stand that had the best plums in the city, or so Bucky described.
Zara watched as he spoke Romanian with the merchant, only catching a few words she had learnt over the past few months from their conversations. She couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly Bucky seemed to interact with the man and how it contrasted so starkly to how he acted when he first arrived in the city. Decades of next to no positive human interaction left the soldier awkward and clunky in his exchanges, often stumbling through questions and requests, or simply forgetting them altogether. It had taken a great deal of patience and metaphorical hand holding to build up his confidence and ease his anxiety on the matter.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to blend in, in fact he was almost too good at it at times. Over their conversations, she had managed to show him that yes, blending in made him go through the motions of life, which was better than nothing. Yet, the beauty of his life now and the freedom that came with it was that he no longer had to settle for simply surviving and he could instead use it as a chance to learn to live again. It started small, like convincing him to get a pillow and blanket for the mattress on the floor, to which they compromised with a sleeping bag. Soon came two pillows for the couch and a lone floor lamp that he shoved in the corner near his bed for the late nights when night terrors had him scribbling away in his journals. They were minor improvements, in truth, but the progress spoke volumes as Bucky worked on building a place that felt a bit more permanent than his last few hideouts.
Zara had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even registered that Bucky completed his purchase and had moved to stand at the edge of the sidewalk. She approached him curiously, watching the way he hesitantly analyzed the seemingly anxious newspaper peddler from across the street. It was very clear something was wrong from the way his demeanor had changed.
“Buchanan?” Her voice raised a bit at the end of his name, concern now replacing her curiosity as he began to make his way to the stand. He either didn’t hear her--which she found unlikely--or he simply opted to ignore her as he picked up the paper, ocean blue eyes scanning over the headline. The color seemed to drain from both of their faces as they took the accusation in, not having to speak to know what it meant.
Bucky would have to pick up his life, yet again, and run. Find a new country, new home, and start the process all over again. The ex-assassin hardly seemed surprised at the realization, as there is no rest for the wicked.
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[Boston, Massachusetts -- 2016]
Zara made her way down the hallway to her bedroom, an imaginary version of Bucky trailing along behind her. She let her book bag drop to the floor once she entered the room, stepping out of her shoes before flopping down onto the soft, sunflower themed duvet of her bed. A look of weightlessness overtook her features as she let the events of the day settle in. Today she would graduate with a PhD in Biomedical Engineering from MIT, top of her class. It was the culmination of years of pouring herself over every textbook her parent’s provided, testing out and early graduations. At only sixteen, Zara would join the ranks of some of the youngest individuals to ever receive a doctoral degree. It truly seemed unreal to her.
Emerald eyes drifted to where Bucky sat at her desk, his arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.
“I wish you could be there tomorrow,” Zara commented, propping herself up on her elbows as her fingers pulled at the frayed threads on the yellow quilt folded at the end of her bed.
A smile teased the corner of Bucky’s lips as he leaned back against her swivel chair, long hair swaying as he tilted his head to the left to look at her. “I will be there, maybe not in person, but I’ll be there cheering right along with everyone else,’ he assured.
“It’s not the same and you know it, Buchanan.”
“I know. Just try to focus on the positives. Tomorrow is your day, you’ve more than earned it.”
Zara nodded, though her disappointment was still evident. On the average day, Bucky’s seemingly invisible presence to everyone else but her came in handy. As she was willing to bet her parents wouldn’t be too keen on the amount of time she spent alone with the grown man, let alone if they knew who he was. The public’s perception of James Buchanan Barnes, who she had quickly identified him as, was low to say the very least. Though it was days like this that she found herself wishing the most that he could truly exist in her life outside of her mind.
She could never quite pinpoint why she began hallucinating him two years prior. Though, the time before and after her fourteenth birthday had flown by in a post traumatic daze so it was even more difficult to analyze. The aftermath of four older boys assaulting her in her own bedroom left her wishing to repress that portion of her life altogether. Zara squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the ghost of their hands on her body. Grabbing, groping, pulling and tearing at clothes. She had hardly seen them since their attack but her mind was still trapped in the room with them.The feeling took her back to meeting Bucky that night, or more so the Winter Soldier, as he appeared at that time.
Upon entering her room, Zara failed to notice the masked man sitting silently in the corner of the room, illuminated only by the small lamp on her bedside stand. When she caught a glimpse of the figure, her body jumped to it’s fight response, just as it had an hour or so before. The young girl grabbed the closest thing she could find, a textbook on advanced chemistry, and held onto it tightly before turning to face the intruder.
“You need to leave,” she ordered, her voice wavering at the end of the demand. Her green eyes only met a pair of dark glasses securely strapped to his face. She couldn’t make out any facial features to identify him by, as all but his forehead and hair was covered.
It wasn’t just his silence that sent an unnerved shiver down her spine. It was his demeanor, cold and nearly unresponsive to her presence and defensive stance. Had his head not briefly turned her way when she started to speak, she’d question if he even heard her at all.
A large gun, likely a rifle from what she could tell, was resting across his lap. His hands weren’t actively gripping it, but something told her he could take aim in the time it took her to breathe her next breath. A variety of handguns and knives were also visible from the holsters adorning his thighs. If he had this many weapons visible, Zara could only imagine how many he had stashed under his tactical vest and heavy boots.
Her green eyes followed where she believed his gaze had drifted. He seemed laser focused on the strip of light just barely visible from under her door as a roar of laughter could be heard from just outside. His hand moved to rest just over the barrel of his gun. The young girl analyzed him for another moment before lowering the textbook, while still keeping it tightly in her hands.
“Will you at least tell me why you’re here?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, one that vocalized all of the fear she had been trying to hide. She was met with more silence, which quickly became deafening to her. She was afraid to make a move to get his attention again, naturally unsure of how he would react. Yet, at the same time she couldn’t relax, not with him in her space.
After another few moments of no response, she allowed herself to consider the possibility that he wasn’t actually there. She had just been through something horribly traumatic and it was entirely possible that this was her brain's way of coping with the stress and fear. That it had conjured some masked figure to sit at her bedroom door and keep all the bad away.
She knew how best to test her theory, but she recognized the risk that came with it as she picked up a neon pink highlighter that she had been using earlier that night. She gripped it for a moment while weighing her options, throwing it across the room only seconds later. She didn’t put too much force behind it, hoping that if it gently came into contact, he’d be less likely to be angry. The consideration meant very little as the marker passed straight through the man and knocked against the wall before falling to the floor. She watched as it rolled across the floor and disappeared underneath her nearby dresser, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. On one hand, he wasn’t real and couldn’t hurt her. On the other, she was truly alone and definitely going crazy.
“This is fine,” Zara tried to reassure herself with very little luck.
She was pulled back from her thoughts as Bucky called her name for the third time, snapping her back to reality. Their eyes connected for a moment as she attempted to ground herself again, focusing on the small changes between how he was now versus then.
He had since lost the mask and goggles, she remembered him removing them a month or so after he first appeared. His current casual attire contrasted starkly with the hard kevlar of the tactical vest she first met him in. His features were more at ease now, no longer reflecting the fear that she could only compare to an animal in captivity. While she wasn’t fond of the comparison, following what she had learned of the real James Barnes, it wasn’t entirely far off.
As if the world was reading her mind, she faintly heard the voice of the local news anchor from the living room directly below her bedroom. Her features scrunched as she focused in on hearing the report, only catching snippets here and there. The words explosion and Sokovia Accords were most of what she could make out along with what she could’ve sworn was the suspect’s name, James Buchanan Barnes.
Before Zara could even question it further, she found herself racing down the main staircase of their suburban home, sock clad feet skidding to a halt on the polished dark oak flooring. Her eyes widened as she took in the security camera footage that was believed to place Bucky near the scene of the crime. Despite having no real proof, something deep within her gut screamed that it wasn’t true. She knew him, maybe not the real version, but he’d never do that.
Imaginary Bucky followed her into the living room a minute later, his pace slow and relaxed in comparison as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Being held responsible for the most recent atrocity was honestly just beginning to feel like the average Tuesday to him. More than anything, it was Zara’s reaction that took him the most by surprise. Her unwavering faith and loyalty was unexpected and as he believed, undeserved.
He had committed unspeakable acts over the years and this was likely far from the worst he was accused of. Sure, they had grown close in the two years since he first appeared and he imagined that made it easier for her to block out the rest of the stories, since she knew at least some version of the person in question.
Zara was good, in every sense of the word. Of course she had flaws, but who didn’t, especially at sixteen. But he saw the way that she looked at the world with love and curiosity despite the violence and violations she had experienced. It was a strength of character that he truly wished he could grow to embody. Bucky couldn’t help but find it funny that he was left looking up to a teenager who hadn’t even passed her driver’s test yet; but she honestly had more morals and heart than most of the adults he had met in his life. All of those facts being true is what made her belief in his innocence all the more confusing.
His eyes fell to her father, Gabriel, as he sat on the couch to take in the evening news. The man’s head shook in what seemed to be disappointment, or maybe it was anger, Bucky honestly couldn’t be sure anymore. They had never spoken, as Bucky’s intangible form made communication with anyone other than Zara impossible, but he knew Gabriel was a black and white kind of person. He couldn’t help but accept that to anyone who didn’t know him, the evidence would be damning.
“They need to just put him down while they have the chance,” Gabriel scoffed, speaking to no one in particular while switching the flatscreen off before they could finish the broadcast.
“He’s not a wild animal to be euthanized.” Zara’s expression twisted in disgust at her father’s casual nature. “He’s a human being. If he's guilty, and that’s a really big if with how blurry that security footage is, he deserves a trial just like anyone else!”
Gabe turned to look over the back of the couch, clearly displeased that she would defend the man. “I’m in no mood to debate with you, Ziarah.” He rose from his seat and dropped the remote onto the foot stool before leaving towards his study.
Zara watched him leave, her eye practically twitching with each step he took. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, to make him see that there were likely more sides to the story than they were seeing but she knew that it was useless. Her father rarely took her opinions or beliefs to heart on things that actually mattered to him, a topic like this would truly be a lost cause.
She looked up at Bucky as he shook his head lightly, letting her tension fade away as she accepted that it was pointless. “It’s okay, Zar,” Bucky assured, his small smile wiping away any lingering doubts she had. “There are more important battles to pick with him. This isn’t a hill worth dying on.”
Zara would’ve liked to argue that defending her friend was more than a worthy cause but she nodded nonetheless.
“How about we go find your mom. I bet she’s already working on the cake for your graduation and knowing you, you can convince her to let you lick the spoon.” His tone was playful as he coaxed her into motion, the promise of sweets and a friendly face luring her into the kitchen behind him.
Hanna was busy mixing away the different batters she would need for the next tier, the sweet aroma of baked goods filling the air. She hummed lightly as she worked, creating her own personal mix of her favorite 80’s songs together in a unique medley. Her green eyes moved to the doorway as she heard Zara walk in, a bright smile overtook her features as she set down her mixing bowl.
“There’s my little scholar,” she praised, moving around the kitchen island to take her daughter into her arms. Her warm embrace was a welcomed escape as Zara melted.
“Momma,” Zara grumbled as her mother placed a series of kisses on her forehead. “I thought you stopped doing that since I was a baby.” While Zara whined, deep down she always loved her mother’s open displays of affection. Not that she was willing to admit it.
“That’s the beauty of you always being my baby. You’re never too old for me to embarrass you. Just be grateful that I’ve opted to do it now instead of at your party.” The woman grinned away as she moved back to her work.
Zara honestly couldn’t argue with the logic as she found a seat on one of the tall bar stools. She quickly lost herself in the pleasant conversion with her mother, happily opting to clean the excess batter and frosting off of the bowls and mixing spoons like the helpful child she was. Imaginary Bucky sat quietly at the kitchen table, watching the women as they fell into the usual banter and discussion. After they finished her conversation she quickly grabbed a snack and made her way towards the door.
“I believe you’re forgetting something,” Hanna reminded, sending Zara a knowing look.
She huffed lightly before turning on her heels to grab her blood testing and insulin kit, waving it at her mother knowingly. She quickly turned back around and left the kitchen, making her way back upstairs.
Bucky didn’t hesitate to follow after her, stopping only when he saw Zara staring in her old room, which now housed her older brother Daniel. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she ran over the events that more often than not had her scurrying past said room without acknowledging it. It was easier to just pretend it didn’t exist.
A few more moments passed before Zara pulled herself back from the darker parts of her mind, focusing in on everything else in her life that was good and worth celebrating. She had known pain and a time in her life where she often considered if it would’ve been easier to just fade away, but she had made it through to the other side. She had a lot going for her now and that was enough to push her feet forward again.
Chapter 2
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jeonggukieandcream · 5 years
Text
Golden curls and a devilish smile
Request: Aw, something sweet maybe like... a Disney Movie Marathon? Where I call him Princess SINderella, like we said some time ago? Awww it’d be so cute and fluffy oofff ~ @ravenrainy​
A/N: Happy birthday, dear!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day, a prosperous new year, and I wish you all the very best!! You’ve come so far and I’m so very proud of you.  🖤❤️ I love you a lot! 🖤❤️
GIFS indicate the different (and increasingly beautiful) phases of Michael. You’re there through it all; it’s what you both deserve. I wish I could reach through the screens and bring Michael into reality for you, honey, but I can’t. This is the best I can do for you and I think Michael would appreciate this (I hope you do, too!)
Word count: 2, 200.
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Something so inconsequential in the grand scheme of things had quickly become a tradition between the two of you. It was something that neither of you had known just how much you would come to enjoy and cherish this occasion between you until it was happening, and from that point was it your go-to comfort activity, your way of shedding all of your daily responsibilities, worries, fears, insecurities and stresses.
Complex people the two of you were, but your ultimate way to relax was one of life’s simplest pleasures:
Having a Disney film marathon.
The way in which this tradition had become what it was between the two of you was just as simple as the good it brought you. 
One night you had been studying while you were visiting Michael at the Murder House. Camped out on his bed had you been deeply saddened and concerned by the way that he had shuffled into the bedroom, the door wide open as a silent invitation towards Michael - it was his bedroom - and any of the nicer, gentler ghosts that wanted to join you while you watched Disney films and studied. 
Michael’s baby blue eyes had been rimmed with redness which only served to enunciate the natural beauty of his eyes, and his golden curls were sticking to the sides of his face, so damp were his cheeks with tears. He was wearing a short sleeved grey shirt with dark blue on the collar and the edges of the sleeves, and checkered blue boxer shorts. 
It was two in the afternoon and he was in his pyjamas, which meant both that Constance, his beloved grandmother, had been neglecting him this day as she always did. and also that it was one of those days in which the voices in his head which whispered nefarious things to him about doing their bidding, about doing his father’s bidding, were louder than usual.
You had cooed softly, dropped your pen immediately and held that hand out. Like the child he was mentally did Michael continue his shuffle over to you, his eyes and face turned downwards. You didn’t even need to ask Michael what was wrong, as immediately did he say, “Grandma won’t talk to me.” A quiet mumble which you barely heard, but you did hear him. You did.
Another soft noise left your lips and you cleared Michael’s bed for him, hurriedly closing textbooks, shutting your laptop after you quickly hit save, and almost throwing everything onto the bedside table in your rush to get Michael into your arms. Again did he take the initiative, waiting for you to shuffle over to the wall, laying down and stretching an arm out. Michael laid down as soon as you were settled, tucking his damp face into the crook of your warm neck. The tip of his nose was cold as he nuzzled it above your jugular, and your nose crinkled as you giggled at his light touch.
Your outstretched arm came around him, tucking Michael into your side, and he hummed softly and sniffled, a hand fisted to dash tears away from his eyes. 
“I don’t know why I keep doing what I’m doing. I need help.” Michael burrowed into your side, so deeply that it was like he was trying to crawl inside you. He pressed himself tightly against you, an arm looping around your neck so that he could pull himself up just enough to hide his face from you, but also so that he could bury his face in your hair; using your body as the ultimate security blanket with which he would shield himself from the world and its cruelties; which never seemed to let up on him.
“I’ll help you, Michael.” A solemn vow which crawled inside Michael’s ears and brought a smile to his full lips as he once again shifted next to you, lifting his head to gaze at the television stationed at the foot of the bed.
“What are you watching?” That soft voice, those eager blue eyes. Tears had dried on his face and left tracks on his cheeks. It wasn’t the first time that Michael had come to you crying and it definitely wasn’t the last, but it was the first time that he had felt like he could ask you about what you were doing, a childlike innocence in his eyes as he looked curiously at the television.
“Cinderella.”
“What’s - “
You grabbed Michael’s hand and tugged him to lay back down beside you. “Shush. Just watch. I think you’ll like this one.”
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It came to pass after the first time that whenever either of you were upset, the other one would pick a Disney film and the two of you would watch as many as you could in the time that you had available to you.
When Michael was a student at Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, he did extremely well in keeping up with the expectations and pressures put on him, but oh, he carried so much fear, sadness and anger within him that sometimes he spent his days biting his tongue until it bled; holding himself back from cursing people out or condemning them all to the deepest pits of Hell.
For the most part could he control himself, but as pressures heightened, tensions rose and Michael’s head was left spinning against all that was being demanded from him - really, he had been thrown right into the deep end and given no time to discern up from down before people had started trying to harness his natural powers for their own, it seemed that there was need for another Disney film marathon.
You were, once again and without coincidence, camped out on Michael’s bed studying. His scent, which was saturated into the material of his duvet and pillows, helped to focus you, and being surrounded by his possessions kept you calm and focused as you wrote yet another essay. The door slammed open but you didn’t even slightly jump, so used were you to Michael’s admittedly dramatic ways.
You did look up, however, and Michael’s trembling lower lip cut across Ariel singing about I wanna be where the people are ~, and made it impossible for you to focus on the film. Mirroring the last time this had occurred did you immediately put your pen down, shove all of your materials to the side and open your arms up to Michael, who almost stomped over to you.
“They want me to take the Seven Wonders test in two weeks.”
“They what?! Michael, that could - “
“I know,” There was a notably whiny edge to his voice and you grinned to hear traces of the sweet boy that you had met all that time ago, “But everyone seems to think I can do this. No one gave me a fucking instruction manual and I - “ Michael cut himself off, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Is this Little Mermaid?”
“Yeah.” You tapped his arm. “Wanna cuddle with me? I’m gonna watch Aladdin after this and then maybe - “
You hadn’t even finished your sentence but Michael was already laying down in front of you, his head on his pillow, his body gently pushing you further back towards the wall. You laughed at his enthusiasm, your heart squeezing in your chest so deliciously, and wrapped your arm around his waist, tugging yourself closer to him as he adopted the position of the little spoon. Often times were you the little spoon, but today, emotionally vulnerable as he was, did it seem fitting for Michael to take your place. You didn’t care, really, as you pressed kisses to the side of Michael’s face, your other hand awkwardly coming to brush his golden curls back so that you could reach more of him.
“You’ll do perfectly, Michael. I wish they wouldn’t pressure you, though. You deserve so much more.”
“You are more.” Michael spoke quietly, as if he was afraid to ruin the tranquillity of the moment, and he could hear your thoughts racing, so loud were they. “They don’t know me like you do.” They don’t love me like you do. Everyone always wanted something from Michael. His name, his powers, his father... but not you. No. You saw Michael for who he truly was and you loved him all the more for it.
You were his Queen, he your King, and one day would you rise from the ashes of this world together like a phoenix.
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“Oh, my love,” A weary sigh from the suddenly open doorway of Michael’s bedroom in Outpost Three. “You look so tired. What’s the matter?”
You put your phone down, stretching languidly on Michael’s bed, aware all the time of his appreciative gaze as he made his way towards you with slow, measured footsteps which rang out around the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. To him, you were the most beautiful woman on this plane of existence and all the others. “Can’t sleep,” You sighed, “I don’t know why... for the last three days I can’t sleep... can’t study... so I’m just watching Disney clips on my phone to pass the time.”
“Do you want me to help you get some sleep?”
You shook your head and lifted an arm out of the duvet, holding your hand out towards Michael with a mischievous smirk on your face, a devious glint in your eye that looked so right on your face. You were tired enough that you were thinking and speaking without really thinking about what was going to come out of your mouth, and Michael couldn’t deny that he much preferred this lack of a filter. It made you a little bit more interesting - though, granted, you were already the most captivating person he had ever come across in his short time on Earth.
“No. But - do you want to watch Disney with me, Sinderella?”
Michael stopped at the side of your bed and tilted his head quizzically. “I beg your pardon?”
You resisted the millennial urge to say, then beg, finding the meme hilarious in this context but knowing that Michael wouldn’t understand it; and instead tugged him onto the bed with you, taking your place beside him and putting your head on his chest to better hear his heartbeat. It was your favourite song and never again did you ever want to hear a repeated refrain of any of the songs which played on a loop downstairs; you just wanted this song and this refrain for the rest of your life.
“Oh, come on,” You grinned, looking up at him, “Golden curls and those eyes? Baby, you’re a Disney princess. And, do you get it? Sinderella?”
Michael’s baby blues told you that he didn’t.
Your grin only widened as you pulled up a notes app on your phone - you would never know how Michael still had internet, electricity and a Netflix which was curiously stacked with only your favourites and things which you would enjoy once you found the time to watch them - and typed two words:
Cinderella and Sinderella.
Michael took your phone from you, his fingers grazing yours sensually as he did so, and his eyes roamed over the two words. Confusion melted into genuine amusement after a few seconds and his eyes glittered with mirth in the candlelit room, a soft orange glow cast about his face only seeming to amplify the blue of his eyes and turning his hair even more golden.
“Very clever,” He praised, “But tell me - if I’m a Disney princess, what does that make you?”
Endless possibilities filled your mind but you were only interested in the one where the laptop continued to play Disney films on repeat and Michael’s torso remained as your pillow, which rose and fell with his every breath. You just wanted this moment forever; Michael feeling safe and warm, cherished and loved in your embrace as you pressed yourself into his body; wanting to feel as much of him as you could within one touch.
“Hush, love,” Michael cooed, his chest rumbling in your ear as his deep voice filled your senses, “I’m not going anywhere. Sleep.”
“I love you,” You tried to say that you loved him a second time, which immediately followed the first, and you felt a light pressure on your forehead as Michael kissed you with his full lips.
“I love you too. My Raven.” The last two words were full of pride, of joy and of love, and you finally, finally, found sleep in the arms of your Disney princess, of your Sinderella.
Only for you would Michael allow such liberties.
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Though you and Michael had met quite by chance, it was an encounter from which serendipity had been born. Your friendship and eventual relationship was an intense roller coaster which consisted only of celestial highs and hellish lows, but you wouldn’t change any of it for all the world.
He was your Antichrist, and you were his Raven, and though you were whole individuals, together were you the unstoppable King and Queen of the New World.
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liberty-barnes · 5 years
Text
Scrunchies
SingleDad!Bucky x Female!Reader
Summary: You love scrunchies, Bucky’s daughter is very intrigued by them, and Bucky is very intrigued by you. There’s a scrunchie for every situation.
Warnings: F L U F F, cavity-inducing fluff. A female baby version of Bucky, because I feel like that’s a big warning.
Word Count: 3479 words (oops)
A/N: I’ve had this idea swimming around in my head for weeks now but I’ve never felt good enough about my writing to actually post it before. I’m probably gonna regret this sooner or later but for now, let’s just be happy that it’s out. Constructive criticism is deeply appreciated, thank you very much. I’ll leave you to it now, hope you like it!
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                                                      The first time Bucky saw you was two weeks after he moved back into the tower. After his girlfriend abandoned him and their ten-month-old daughter, he felt like he couldn’t afford to live alone anymore. He needed help with the baby.
Mikayla Rebecca Barnes was a handful. She knew what she did or didn’t like, she loved to be pampered and treated like a queen and her newfound ability to crawl and walk short distances while holding on to random things made keeping up with her an exhausting sport.
But most of all: she was a very curious baby. She loved to meet new people, learn new things, and get new gadgets.
In hindsight, that may be why she was so attracted to you.
He and Tony were now retired from missions, only helping if it was absolutely necessary. Tony spent his days in the lab, perfecting gadgets and teaching Morgan, Peter, and Harley tech things while Bucky was in charge of training the new recruits.
Mickey, as they called her (Steve and his undying love for Disney are to blame), usually came with him so he could keep an eye on her but stayed in her playpen, occasionally laughing and clapping her hands when someone fell.
But today, he didn’t close the tiny door properly, and that tiny slip up was all the little girl needed to go and explore the world. Though she was stopped in her tracks when she saw you.
You were one of Natasha’s ex ‘classmates’. You were raised in the Red Room but managed to escape before your graduation ceremony and have been on the run ever since, picking up contracts as a mercenary every once in a while. Get in, get out, no one sees you. You were light on your feet, and very good at your job, finding out your victims’ deepest, darkest secrets and exposing them, letting them live in the Hell they created before ultimately taking them out. You were their reckoning. A shadow. Any sinner’s nightmare. You didn’t have a name, that made tracing you easier. But whispers of a vengeful warrior traveled far, far enough for the redhead Avenger to hear.
She tracked you down and gave you a choice: join them or go to jail. You chose the former, obviously. At least you’d be able to kill people without having to worry about any possible repercussions.
So here you were, doing your stretches, getting ready for your daily workout before your psych test this afternoon. You had passed your physical with flying colors and as soon as you passed this afternoon’s test, you’d be cleared for missions.
What you did not expect, however, was a tiny human making their way to you and crawling towards your toes, grabbing your wrist in one smooth movement and locking you in your runner’s stretch.
She pulled at the baby blue scrunchie around your wrist, pinching the velvet material between her thumb and pointer before letting it go and laughing at the snapping sound it made against your wrist.
Sadist much?
She let go of your wrist and locked eyes with you, her steel blue orbs boring into yours. You straightened yourself and sat crossed legged.
“Well hello there.”
She cocked her head to the side and looked at your legs, trying to mimic your position. You chuckled a bit at that. She looked at the scrunchie on your wrist again and made grabby hands towards it. You took it off and placed in her hands, she seemed content to admire the fabric and you looked around the gym. No one was around and the only noise apart from your playlist was that of the recruits in the next room.
You decided you’d go there and ask if someone knew who she belonged to. Surely they wouldn’t get mad at you for looking out for a baby.
“Can I pick you up?”
You extended your arms towards her and she looked at them quizzically before lifting hers up as well. You placed her on your hip and walked to the other training room.
The grunts and whines of training recruits filled your ears and you observed them for a short while before walking towards their metal armed instructor. You had escaped before earning the ‘privilege’ to be trained by the Winter Soldier so you didn’t know each other.
“Um, excuse me?”
You called out and he turned towards you, blue eyes finding yours.
“Um, she came into the room and I didn’t see anyone with her, do you know who she belongs to? I’d hate for someone to be worried about her.”
He looked at the baby in your eyes and turned his head towards the playpen, eyes going wide at the side of the open door and empty play area.
“Mickey! Sorry, she’s uh, she’s mine, I guess I forgot to lock the door correctly. Sorry... I hope she didn’t bother you too much.”
He said, a bit nervous as he took his daughter back from your arms.
“Not at all, it was a nice distraction. It’s not often that we see such innocence in a place like this.”
“Yeah...”
You ducked your head slightly and bit your lip, locking eyes with him for a split second.
“Well, I should go. Nice to meet you both.” 
“Nice to meet you too.”
He said as more of a whisper than anything else. It was only when he looked back at his daughter that he saw the blue scrunchie in her hands. He had to give it back to you.
                                                      The second time he saw you, you were leaving for your first-ever mission as an Avenger with Nat and Steve. He watched as you slipped your combat knives in their respective holsters, the catsuit you wore accentuating your figure perfectly. The Avengers logo was stitched proudly on your upper arm, the white a beautiful contrast with the otherwise black suit. 
His gaze traveled instantly to your hair, tied in a high ponytail by a black velvet scrunchie.
“Ready to go, Shadow?”
“You got it, Red.”
He turned his eyes back to his best friend when he heard his footsteps, patting him on the back.
“We should be gone for three days tops. Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.”
He smirked at the blonde.
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”
They hugged and Steve pulled back, placing his right hand on his shoulder.
“Take care of my goddaughter, jerk.”
“Punk.”
He walked over to you and high-fived you before walking over to Natasha and helping her load a few more things into the Quinjet. The redhead saluted the brunette and he returned the gesture. He then turned back to you.
“Excited for your first mission?”
“I’ve actually been doing missions for the last 12 years, so this is nothing new.”
He rolled his eyes playfully at you before remembering the reason he came to talk to you in the first place.
“I forgot to give you this back.”
He handed you the baby blue scrunchie Mickey had taken from you a few days prior.
You smirked at him.
“Keep it for now. It’ll give me an excuse to go talk to you when I get back.”
You turned around and marched towards the Quinjet, throwing him a wink over your shoulder.
                                                    A month later, he looked at you with his mouth agape. The white lace of the top was so intricate he could lose himself while looking at it while the flowy-ness of your baby pink skater skirt made you look all the more innocent. He admired the fact that you chose to wear your favorite pair of white and pink sneakers while most women usually opted for some kind of heel on the first date. It just proved how different you were. It was refreshing.
“Do I look okay?”
The softness of your voice had him melting and he quickly shook himself out of his daze to answer you.
“You look perfect.”
The smile you shot him was so beautiful he felt his knees buckle slightly under him.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.”
It was true. He’d put a bit more effort in his outfit, choosing a white T-shirt and form-fitting jeans instead of his usual long-sleeved shirts and loose pants. He’d opted for a black leather jacket on top, just in case.
“Well, as cute as this is, would you two just get on with it already?”
Nat chided, arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on her face. Next to her was Steve, holding baby Mickey in his arms and looking like a proud dad.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay with her?” 
He caressed his daughter’s face gently with his forefinger.
“We’re gonna be fine Buck. Now go! Sweep her off her feet or whatever it is you young people do nowadays.”
Ridiculous.
With one last kiss on the little girl’s cheek, he turned around and offered his arm to you, which you happily took.
The ride to Coney Island was fun. He’d never been more happy to ride his Harley than today, feeling your arms tight around his waist and your head pressed to his back. He could get used to this.
The first thing they did when they got there was ride the Cyclone. You were a bit of an adrenaline junkie and he thought ‘why not’. He kind of regretted it but one look at your beaming face and all that flew out the window.
They went on a few other rides, played a couple games, Bucky won you a big stuffed teddy bear at the shooting gallery and you won an equally as big panda bear along with a Captain America keychain at an archery game.
“The keychain’s for you, that way you’ll be reminded of me, your best friend and your keys won’t be as boring.”
“What about the panda?”
“That’s for Mickey. Her birthday’s soon and I just needed one last thing to complete her birthday set.”
As he thought to your interaction only moments ago, he found himself smiling like an idiot. You turned around, having now paid for your cotton candy and looked at him, happiness written all over your face. He could get used to this.
He now stood at your door, holding your right hand as he looked in your eyes.
“I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too. I hope we can do this again sometime.”
He smiled at you and found himself playing with the baby pink scrunchie around your wrist, but he knew he had to be straightforward with you.
“Look, I just... You know I’m not gonna be able to give you everything you deserve right? Between Mickey and my own fucked up mental state, I can’t afford to do all the things normal people would. To take you out on impromptu dates or give you every second of my time, like you deserve... Are you sure you want to deal with that?”
You removed your hands from his and cupped his face softly, eyes fluttering closed as you lay a lingering kiss on his lips.
“I’m sure.”
And as you kissed him again, this time with more force, he found himself thinking that he could get used to this.
                                                    “That’s it! Almost there! Go on!”
You and Bucky had been dating for three months, and every day was happier than the former. You and Mickey got along like two peas in a pod and he found himself smiling more often as your relationship progressed.
Currently, you were sitting on your heels in the middle of the living room, a good ten feet away from your boyfriend and watching as Mickey took slow, calculated steps towards you. The smile on both your faces was blinding as she reached you and you lifted her up into your arms, spinning her around and kissing her face happily.
“Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you!”
She squealed as her father reached the both of you and wrapped his arms around your figures, barely able to contain his joy.
The door suddenly burst open.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. just told me she was walking! Is it true?”
Nat came rushing in the room to where you stood.
“Yep. All ten feet from her daddy’s arms to mine!”
Steve, Sam, and Wanda were the next ones to arrive, still sweaty from their workout.
“Is it true?”
“Did she walk?”
“Where’s my beautiful goddaughter?”
And soon, the whole team was in the living room, your (oops) Bucky’s daughter being passed around and praised by the team. Your boyfriend grabbed you by the waist and gently kissed your lips, smiling into it.
“The party’s in two hours. I still need to figure out what she’ll wear.”
“Don’t worry, I got it. I found the perfect outfits for us when we went shopping on Thursday.”
He shook his head but kissed you again before letting you take your (not yet) his daughter to what he assumed was Nat’s room to get ready with the girls.
He was sitting on a chair, beer in hand while talking with the boys. They had decided to stay at the Compound and just have a family get together instead of one of Tony’s usual parties for Steve’s birthday this year. He waited very anxiously for you and Mickey to arrive. Wanda came down ten minutes ago and was currently sitting in Vision’s lap and Steve has had his hand around Nat’s waist ever since she came down about five minutes ago, so now all that was left was you.
“Hope we’re not too late to the party.”
He turned his head and much like that night three months ago, his jaw almost dropped to the floor. Seeing your (goddammit Buck, NOT. YET.) his daughter on your hip in those gorgeous matching outfits made his heart burst with happiness. You had even gotten her a matching red scrunchie and put her hair up in a half, up half down fashion, just like yours.
You went over to him and he immediately pulled you onto his lap, kissing his daughter on her cheek before kissing you right on the lips, not giving a flying fuck about the red lipstick that had most likely transferred onto him.
“You’re just on time.”
You had just gotten back from Mickey’s nursery, having managed to put her down for the night when Bucky grabbed you by the hip, kissing you fiercely.
You moaned into the kiss and weaved your hands into his hair, pulling lightly at the shorter strands.
“I love you.”
It came out before he could stop it, not that he wanted to. Because he really did love you, today just proved it.
You opened your eyes and looked at him, your (e/c) orbs searching his icy blue ones for any trace of deceit. You smiled brightly when you didn’t find none.
“I love you too.”
                                                    He fumbled nervously with the sleeve of his dress shirt. This was it. This was the day.
“Will you stop messing with your hair already?”
“Can’t help it. ‘M nervous.”
Nat rolled her eyes for the thousandth time that evening, taking a long sip from her wine glass.
“Will you stop stressing already, it’s clear as day that she’s got it bad for you, she’ll say yes.”
Steve sleepily nodded from his place on the redhead’s lap, having come back from a mission a few hours prior. She absentmindedly raked her hands through his still-damp hair and he all but purred at the touch.
Bucky smiled. It had been a long time since he last saw his friend this happy and relaxed, if ever, and this Steve was by far his favorite Steve. Followed closely by drunk Steve and flustered Steve.
He looked at his watch again, 7:45 PM. Five more minutes before it’s deemed acceptable for him to start walking.
The little black box in his pocket felt heavier than anything he’s ever held, and he’s held very heavy things. 
Another glance, 7:46. How could time pass so slowly?
“Okay loverboy, sit your ass down and listen carefully.”
He obeyed, he wasn’t dumb enough to ignore one of Natasha’s commands.
“I’ve known Y/N since we were kids, I’ve seen her at her best, I’ve seen her at her worst, but nothing compares to the way she is when you’re around. Her eyes sparkle, her smile is that much bigger, her whole aura is that much brighter, because of you. She looks at you like you hung the moon and all the stars. And have you seen her with Mickey? It’s like she’s already her mother. She loves that little girl and she loves you. She’ll say yes.”
He took a deep breath and nodded, eyes glancing at the clock. 7:52 PM.
With one last goodbye at the couple, he left the room. When he got to your room he knocked on her door with a bit of difficulty, since his vision was currently a bit clouded. He heard the door open and a loud gasp.
“What’s this?”
“Three hundred and sixty-five roses. One for each day that I’ve had the privilege of calling you mine.”
He entered the room and set the vase down on your desk before turning to you.
You looked like a goddess, the black dress hugged your curves perfectly, you looked like you were glowing. A literal angel.
“Happy anniversary, doll.”
You smiled and walking towards him, your black strappy heels tapping on the hardwood floor. You looked him over and grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket.
“Now that’s just rude.”
You took his hand and held it out, putting a good two feet between the two of you before making him spin a little, admiring the way his all-black suit clung to his body.
“Excuse me, sir, but how dare you come into my room looking like a full course meal when I’m fucking starving?”
He smirked a bit and took you by the waist, looking at your blood-red lips for a split second before locking eyes with you yet again.
“Well, now you know how I feel whenever you walk into a room.”
You rolled your eyes at him before leaning up and kissing him softly, being careful to not deepen things too much.
“Come on, we have a reservation.”
You whispered to him, lips only an inch away from his.
By the time dessert was served, you were suspicious, to say the least. He was uncharacteristically nervous, fidgety and there were times where you wondered if he was even breathing properly.
As you finished your cheesecake slice, you cleared your throat and asked him what was wrong.
“Nothing doll. Don’t worry.”
He looked out the window before looking back at you.
“Walk with me?”
You nodded and he asked for the check. You were outside a couple minutes later and involuntarily shivered from the cold. Like the gentleman he is, he wrapped his suit jacket around your shoulders and intertwined your hands, leading you into Central Park. You noticed his still fidgety attitude and stopped in your tracks, not being able to handle it anymore.
“Baby, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting different tonight... like you want to say something but you can’t... Was it something I said, or did?”
He quickly took your hands in his, pressing your foreheads together in a calming manner.
“You did nothing wrong, doll. You’re perfect..”
You smiled at the floor and tried your best to flatten your hair, the wind having flown through it and messed up a little lot.
He reached for his pocket and pulled out a scrunchie, tying your hair in a haphazard ponytail with it.
“Where did you find it?”
You said, gesturing towards the baby blue scrunchie that had been the start of your whole relationship.
“Doesn’t matter know, it just seemed fitting, kind of poetic.”
He took a deep breath, might as well go for it, right?
“Y/N, a year ago, I asked you to be my girlfriend and you said yes. Still haven’t figured out how that happened but the fact is that this year has been the happiest of my life. I love the way you act around Mickey, and how you treat her like she’s your own. I love that you can accept my flaws, and love me despite them. I love how cute you look when you’re cooking pancakes for us wearing nothing but my shirt. I love how badass you are and how could totally beat me if you actually decided to use your energy on me. I love seeing you smile and I hate watching you cry. I know you have bad days, I do too, but I wanna give you so many good days that you’ll forget the bad ones even exist. I love to kiss you, hold you, make love to you and then wake up tangled with you in my bed. I wanna wake up like that every morning of my life because you make waking up worth it. So, if you’ll have me...”
He got down on one knee and you brought your hand to your mouth, the tears flowing freely at this point.
“...I would very much like to be your husband and have the honor of calling you my wife. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”
Your brain stopped working for a second because OH MY GOD THIS BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL, LOVING MAN JUST PROPOSED.
You took a deep breath, your lungs starting to ache from the lack of oxygen before whispering a string of ‘yes’s’ over and over again.
He straightened up and cupped your face, kissing you like you were water and he hadn’t drunk in years. He slipped the beautiful engagement ring on your finger and you made your back home to your, YOUR daughter.
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skyler-bane · 4 years
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I. Leaving
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Up went the sun. All the trees, sidewalks, and cars’ roofs seemed even brighter, still glistening with yesterday’s rain. Another warm morning in New York has just welcomed the residents. But would it be absolutely normal for everyone? Would an undisturbed daily routine be meant for everyone today?
 The walls turned painfully white as the first sunrays peered through the window – now one could also notice how empty they looked; no pictures or photographs, but minimalistic interiors had been pretty common for such a long time it wouldn’t make anyone question the owner’s taste. A large sofa had been waiting for so long to welcome any guests if they ever visited this place, there was a desk, along with some blue rug that looked exceptionally soft. A few shelves with books and CDs on them. Nothing more. No item found on the desk looked strange either and yet, it still didn’t seem to belong to a regular citizen, somehow. If one wanted to know why this room looked rather out of ordinary, the answer could be a couple of weird devices nobody but their owner knew what they were for.
And there he was; having fallen asleep so gracefully, with his cheek pressed against the keyboard, Skyler Bane had proudly managed to get his 4-or-so hours of sleep. Feeling how bad his back hurt, he let out a sigh and tried to make his position a bit more comfortable, slowly getting used to the brightness too. “Well, haven’t you mastered this trick…”, he muttered, blinking fast – still too much sun. But coffee wasn’t going to make itself and magically appear on the desk with a lovely “Drink Me” label… At least Skyler’s last commission wasn’t going to bother him anymore and could be classified as finished, a few days before the deadline. This should bring that… low quality sleep to an end, and hopefully the whites of Skyler’s eyes, along with his transparent and disturbingly grayish tone of skin would stop screaming ‘workaholic’. He finally managed to raise himself from the chair and head straight to the kitchen, where he looked outside the window. New York, how could these all people be so awake, smiling, and full of energy?
Skyler had moved to New York so many years ago, he couldn’t even imagine living in any other city now and every single time he actually tried to envision this move, that imaginary city looked… just like NYC. And 'moved'…? No, not really. He’d been brought to this city by his parents, straight from London where he’d spent his first 6 years of life. Not long enough for any strong bonds or friendships to be missed once they crossed the Manhattan Bridge, yet long enough to say his situation was rather difficult and… unappealing. No child would like to find themselves so far from their parents after all, not even with the loveliest grandparents as their new companions and guardians. New York was where Skyler had come to terms with what his parents had done to him, where his grandparents had managed to show him that the world wasn’t as rotten as it seemed to the little boy. But the reason he’d decided to stay in the city wasn’t as romantic as one would think. He’d simply gotten used to NYC, not bothered by his hopeless attempts at looking for some other place to live in. The message about his parents’ fatal accident and how he could move to their newly bought apartment in London - it all sounded like a joke, but sure Skyler could find some finesse in it. And he was going to move there without batting an eye as if they’d owed him much more than that. Which they certainly had. This one thought kept him going, this one thought reassured him that London was a good idea.
 A loud beep coming from his coffee machine announced that his drink was ready. It should wake him up, along with a hot shower, breakfast, and...- Another loud noise came from his front door this time. Someone was at the door and Skyler already hated them for coming this early, even though he was the one who had turned his phone off and made it impossible for others to contact him. He opened the door energetically as if he wanted to convince himself that he didn't need coffee to function properly. All his hatred was gone when he saw who his unexpected guest was.
"Hey, I brought your games! Sorry I didn't come yesterday, they called my mom and told her I failed that stupid test, so she got mad. I told her it wasn't because of the games or anything like that, but she never listens..." 
Ah, this boy. The list of people Skyler would miss wasn't long, his number one was Max, his neighbor. He was sixteen and lived with his mother and grandmother. Both of them weren't sure if Skyler could be considered a good company for Max, but his grandmother remembered Christine, Skyler's grandmother, and how wonderful a person she was, so eventually, they decided that as long as Max didn't start skipping school or using swear words, the two could hang out together. 
"It's okay, come in. D'you want somethin' to drink?"
"Yeah, some juice maybe? Thanks!"
Max came in and put the games on the table. A little bit too late for Bane to hide his bags and a few large boxes? Definitely. The man mouthed 'fuck' and hid his face behind the palms of his hands, so he could add a soundless, yet angry 'you stupid fuck' too. There was no way he could just disappear without saying a word now and he knew that well, he just had no clue how he was going to do that. Hey, I’m leaving and won’t be coming back. How was your day? 
Skyler handed the boy a glass of orange juice and grabbed his coffee too, leaning against the window sill in the kitchen. He took a sip of coffee and furrowed his brows.
"Why did you use 'fail' and 'test' in one sentence, though?"
"The questions were dumb! I couldn't understand them, nobody could," replied Max, sounding very disappointed. "I wasn't even the only one who didn't pass! The whole class, except for Josh of course, but it didn't convince my mom. She always says: 'if Josh gets good grades, then so could you'." 
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Bane chuckled, ignoring Max's little protest that there was nothing funny about that. "Fuck Josh, he won't get any smarter if he's the only kid who understands dumb questions, yeah?" Max liked this part much more. He grinned at the man, as he drank his orange juice, and promised himself that he would use it next time his mom gets mad at his grades. "Don't worry about it, your grades aren't some kind of a mirror where you can see how smart you are. They're nothin' more than some simplified system and once you've finished school..." Skyler shrugged his shoulders and added; "At a job interview they never ask if you were an A student."
"Exactly! That’s what I tell myself but-"
"But you have to study, comprenez vous? Or your mom's gonna kill me, not you," he said, raising a brow even though he wasn't expecting an answer. And now the hardest part... Skyler inhaled deeply, told himself that he had to tell Max about his decision, then looked at the boy. "I’m leavin’. I'm goin' to London soon, I have to be sure you'll be ok, y'know?", then pointed at the boxes and the bags. “I know you’re probably disappointed and that’s not what you expected from me, but I just have to go. Start anew.”
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Max opened his eyes wider, desperately looking for any signs that would let him believe his friend was joking. No, there weren't any, even the tone of his voice sounded completely different, unlike Skyler. He was going to leave him here. No more games, no more movies... No more silly adventures to keep secret from mom and grandma. Max hadn't felt that lonely in a long time; how else could one feel if their best friend told them something like this? "You're not coming back," he said flatly, avoiding Skyler's gaze for a moment. 
"Not really. I’ve got my stupid reasons... But I will visit you from time to time." 
"Is Aria one of the reasons?"
Some of the coffee he drank went down the wrong way and Skyler started coughing, which probably was the worst possible way of saying 'no'. "I know I said 'stupid reasons' but that's not what I meant," he said in a hoarse voice and cleared his throat once again.
"Ok, ok...- Is she going too, then?" 
"I don't care 'bout her and you shouldn't tell her anything in case she comes here. She stays in New York and I'm more than ok with that. Don't-"
"-talk to her, I know..." Max paused, giving himself a moment to ponder on his friend's words. He couldn’t just turn on his heel and leave, forget about their friendship. Skyler had helped him so many times and the last thing Max wanted was sound ungrateful. "If you have to... Come on, I'd be a shitty friend if I stopped talking to you or left without saying goodbye, right?"
"All I can say is that it'd be my style," he replied with a light chuckle. "Actually, that was my plan until you came here."
Max knew he wasn't joking but still managed to laugh at his confession. The fact that he eventually told him mattered most. 
"And now I better take a shower and get ready to... take care of... this and that." Max didn't have to know all the details about his terribly badly chosen role model - 'computer programmer'. Yeah, sure. 
"Sure," he replied with a small smile. Now he was sure that Skyler wasn't going to leave unexpectedly. 
"Max? Y'know what, I think you should take the games. I'll be far too busy to play them," he said, raising a brow. Skyler watched as the boy quickly went back to the table where he'd left the games and smiled to himself. He knew that it was probably the best apology he could come up with.
"Too bad I'll only get better at them." Max placed one hand on the doorknob and turned to Skyler, adding half-jokingly, "And you said you didn't like losing, Bane?", before he closed the door behind him.
Skyler finished his coffee in silence and headed to the bathroom. He really needed some time to think and as the kind of person whose brain worked much better in the shower, he really needed one right now. There were some things he needed to get done before he left New York, things that didn't necessarily sound pleasant, and he didn't have much time either.
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cruecifymesixx · 5 years
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Love and Leather /part four/
Word count: 1.8k
A/N: Thank you all for the kind words I’ve been receiving over this story, it makes my cold heart warm. I’m off work today so I’ll try to bust out a few chapters, before I return tomorrow...I have a busy week ahead.
Warnings: um, none for this part.
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July 82’
I had just arrived at the Dallas airport and my driver was putting my suitcase in the trunk while I got inside the car.
“It’s nice to have you home, Miss. Blackwood.” I smiled at Benny, “It’s nice to be home.” I told him and he nodded and started driving.
About forty five minutes later we arrived in front of the gates of my parents home, I sighed in contentment. As much as I hate it here, I truly did miss being home. Benny drove us up the drive way and my mom, Clarissa was already standing on the doorstep, and I got out of the car and ran up to her.
“Oh Vanity, sugar...I’ve missed you so much.” Mom said while pulling me into a tight hug and I wrapped my arms around her, “I’ve missed you too, where is daddy?” I asked her and she pulled away from me, “Daddy is out doing business right now, but your brother and sister are home.” She told me and I nodded, “Benny bring in the bags when you have a chance.” Mom ordered him and he nodded.
I walked into the Foyer, Mom had done some re-decorating while I was gone. The floors were now a shiny white marble, and the railing of the stairs were now a cast iron black, instead of the mahogany they were last year.
“Greyson! Sage! Your sister is home.” Mom yelled. I heard doors slam and then the patter of their feet against the waxed floor and then I saw my siblings come down the stairs,
“Vanny!!” My younger sister shouted and pretty much tackled me to the floor, “I missed you so much! Please take me with you!” Sage was hyped up, and I looked at my younger sister, “Maybe when you’re older!” I responded and she helped me off the floor,
“Hey Grey.” I said and gave my brother a hug, “God you’ve gotten huge! Is this all from football?” I asked him while talking about the size of his arms and shoulders, “My little brother is a Total beefcake!” I said while laughing, “Don’t test me city girl! I’ll still whoop your ass.” He said while grabbing my head and putting me in a head lock and I started punching his back
“Enough children, Van are you hungry? I had Loretta prepare lunch.” Mom asked and I playfully shoved my brother away,
“Yeah, I could eat.” I responded, “Loretta! Please bring everything to the back patio.” Mom told her and she nodded, “It’s great to see you, Vanity.” Loretta said and I smiled at her.
Soon enough we were sitting at the patio table. I looked on as the pool guy was cleaning out leaves and sweeping the tile around the pool.
“Thank you.” I said as Loretta put a plate of food in front of me, “So how is Los Angeles, sweetheart?” Mom asked me while taking a sip of her Cabernet wine, “Its a lot of fun, hectic..but I enjoy it a lot.” I explained to her, “Still at the diner?” She interrogated me, “Yes mom, and I’m still paying bills, and the townhome is still standing.” I told her and she smiled, “Good, and your roommates?” “Yes mom, still the same girls.” I told her while getting annoyed and picking at the food on the table.
“Have you met anyone famous, Vanny?” Sage asked me and I looked at her, “Um...yeah...uh Motley Crue if you listen to them.” I told her and my brother gasped and clenched his chest,
“Are you serious! Those guys are so sick! I want to go to a show but Mom won’t let me.” Greyson told me and I chuckled, “Because they are filth honey.” Mom said and I sent a glare her way but she didn’t notice,
“They’re...uh...” I stopped and chuckled, “Actually they’re my friends.” I felt weird saying that out loud, but it was true.
Before they left again for another tour, the girls and I were constantly at their mansion and hanging out with them you could say. Tonya had fallen under the spell of Vince while Lucia found an interest in both Tommy and Mick. As for me, I found myself hanging out with Nikki a little bit more, and of course we partied with them.
Mom cleared her throat and took a sip of her wine, “Your father would just love to hear that one, Vanity.” Mom said with a sarcastic tone and I rolled my eyes, “They’re actually really fun to be around.” I told her,
“Are you doing drugs, Vanity Kay?” Mom questioned me, “No. Absolutely not.” Of course I lied to her, she would kill me and cut me off financially.
“Well there’s my princess!” I looked up and saw my dad, Ryan, “Dad!” I got out of my chair and ran over to him and hugged him tightly,
What can I say? I’ve always been daddy’s little girl ever since I could walk.
“Oh it’s so good for you to be home Van. I’ve missed you.” Dad said while letting go of me and kissing my forehead, “I’ve missed you too.” I told him and then sat back down,
“Hello sweetheart.” Dad said while giving mom a kiss, “Yuck.” Sage said under her breath and I chuckled.
“What’s everyone discussing?” Dad sat down and Loretta immediately walked out and brought dad a glass of scotch on the rocks.
“Our daughter was just telling us that she has been hanging out with that band Motley Crue.” Mom said with a hint of disgust in her voice,
“Vanity...really? You couldn’t of picked a better group of people to be around?” Dad lectured me and I rolled my eyes, “Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady.” I looked at him then looked away, “Yes, sir.” I lowered my tone and looked down at my food,
“But you guys shouldn’t believe whatever you’ve been reading.” I told them quietly, “I don’t have to read anything, I know just by looking at them they are nothing but damn trouble and you shouldn’t be associating yourself with them, Damnit Vanity, you know we have to protect the family and the money.” Dad said and I huffed,
“Yeah I know. Trust me I think about it every day.” I told him.
Our family struct gold, no not real gold, black gold. We’re rich in oil, with it being the great state of Texas and all, we’ve became pretty wealthy over the last few decades starting with my great grandpa. So I grew up very sheltered, and ended up keeping the rich part of me under wraps due to obvious reasons of being used for my family’s money.
“You’re twenty one years old, I know you can make smart decisions.” Dad said and I nodded while pushing my plate away from me.
“Sage, Greyson, go inside for a few minutes while your mother and I talk to your sister.” Dad ordered them and they both got up and walked inside. Before Greyson went inside he gave me a look, a look of uncertainty and it confused me.
“Honey...” Mom said somberly, while reaching across the table and grabbing my hand, “What? What’s going on?” I asked her, while starting to panic. I looked at dad as he took a sip of his booze,
“We want you to come back home.” Mom stated, I looked back and forth between mom and dad then started laughing,
“You’re joking right?” I said while trying to control my laughter, but they just looked at me, and then at each other, “What? What do you mean come back home!? I’m not coming back home.” I said while pulling my hand away from hers,
“Sweetie...just relax.” Dad said, but I interrupted him, “No!” I stood up from the chair, “I have a life there! Friends! I have a home that I bought! I can’t just leave and come back here!” I tried to defend my reasons,
“Ryan...” mom spoke softly while looking at him, “Dad? Please don’t make me come home.” I told him and he took another sip of his scotch, “Sit down, Vanity.” Dad said and I slowly pulled the chair back underneath me.
“Vanity...princess...” Dad took a breath, “I’m sick..I have brain cancer and the doctors are only giving me six months to live.”
I stared at him. I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t form a word, let alone a sentence. I kept my eyes locked on his, trying to study his facial expressions,
“Why are you just now telling me!?” I said with tears brimming at the surface, “Honey...we didn’t want you to worry...we know how you can get sometimes.” Mom said and I rolled my eyes, “Worry? Daddy is dying!!” I yelled at them while slamming my hand on the glass table,
“I’m not coming home just to watch you die!” I yelled at dad, “Lower your damn voice!” Dads bass depended and it startled me,
“I will visit more, but please I am happy where I’m at.” I begged them, “Please?” My voice cracked and they both sighed, “I’ll visit every month, please, please don’t make me leave California. I love it there.” I spoke in almost a whisper while licking the saltiness off my lips, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
“How did this happen?” I asked while finally breaking down and putting my head in my hands,
Dad came over and sat by me and pulled me into him and I just cried into his chest. “Well...I was at the yard going about daily business when I just got dizzy out of no where. Then I collapsed in front of the team, and I was rushed straight to the hospital. They thought it was just dehydration from the heat and out working.” Dad spoke softly and soothed his hand over my head,
“But I was also having very bad migraines and my pupils weren’t dilating as they should when they were shining the light into my eyes so they sent me for an MRI...and my whole head lit up like a Christmas tree.” He continued to explain and cleared his throat,
“I have tumors in my frontal and occipital lobe that are inoperable, so with this happening to me I’ve realized life is precious and it is to be cherished at all costs which is why you can stay in Los Angeles.” Dad told me and I looked up at him, “Really?” I said while wiping my tears away,
“Ryan.” Mom gave him her oh so famous glare, “But...you are to come home once a month, no ifs, ands, or buts.” He warned me and I nodded,
“Of course Dad, I’ll be here no matter what.”
Taglist: @oskea93 , @brideofdraculana , @laaacuna , @aryssav, @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies , @fandomshit6000 , @anntheboneless, @tiranni , @venus-calum , @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore
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blankdblank · 7 years
Text
Modern Soulmates Pt 3
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Slight Smut in the beginning...more Thorin stumbles
Right at sunrise the next day when for a board meeting the Durins on their way to the fleet of cars outside their home all paused in inspection of the finished product next door. Freshly power washed the magnificent mansion that dwarfed theirs and greatly surpassed it with its newly power washed pale brown stones that in the sunlight seemed to glow adding to the beauty of the few massive stained glass windows and the massive hand carved door out of mahogany. Breathless for a few moments they took in every detail of the home the hadn’t seen in such condition since they had moved here from the Blue Mountains. Then the grip of keys in hand reminded them of the upcoming meeting they all got back to their path off to work.
While their company did not blend much with Mordor Inc the declining health of their CEO and founder and daily stories of the future of the company with supposedly no plan in place or single person to take the wheel the Durins had to ready battle plans for talks on trade deals already in place for whoever was given the reigns. All of the news stations had been chronicling each of the Wraiths who had hired lawyers to stake their claim for the fight to come when Melkor had met his untimely demise. And every single one of them privately had been informed that this was a case they could never win, though publicly the façade continued just in case.
Upon arrival however when everything was on the table and the board of Mordor Inc was on a call on speaker for the entire clan board of Durins to hear the stunning news that for years before Melkor had fallen into this coma they had all voted in agreement of his choice for interim CEO. One who had been able to uphold the standards that Melkor had laid in place and held since the founding of the company. Investors and share holders were solidified in their support of the company after their own previous encounters with said new CEO who the Durins had haltingly accepted the fact that said CEO was otherwise busy most days with other interests and had entrusted the board to keep day to day watch with check ins at least once weekly.
Contrary to what the Wraiths were throwing on the possible fate of the company the steadily rising stock prices and rise of value of all products offered by Mordor Inc seemed to confirm that things were trustworthy for the Durins. They had to bide their time and uphold their ends of the already settled contracts and deals until they could meet this new person who was at the helm of this major empire the press assumed was up for grabs.
That was the truth. The board had every faith that the company was in good hands and with nearly daily texts, emails or calls if anything did come up you were just a drive away. Much like today not even half an hour when they got the intercom warning from the lobby that you had arrived. Prior to your hospital trip to see to the latest offered ideas you had been sent, open suggestions of middle grounds on the ones they could not agree on that simplified the task to move either way later on once the effects of these changes to grow from there. The simpler tasks were handled with ease and word of the call from the Durins had the board go over a full recap of the deals that you held with the Durins just in case of any changes they wished to offer later on when you did actually talk with them on business matters.
But that would come later, much later when Melkor’s health would go however it was meant to go. When the change may or may not be official and a new name in charge would require new contracts to be drafted for a few of the contracts your company held. In pain beyond belief you made your way straight to your grandfather with an ache to simply be with him. Still in denial over having to spend each day without him since he’d collapsed. Completely supported by Dewey and Legolas who were in charge of the paint and wallpaper crew and sent updates that you tried to share with your unconscious grandfather of each in a happy tone with hopes that one newly painted wall or interesting wallpaper could snap him out of this to hear more about the home you still had an entire wing reserved for him when he could get better. Furniture would come next and talk of what you had designed already from the delivery of wood you ordered came up along with talks of your workshop in one of your two garages to build it all inside of.
Promise of an ordered dinner gave you a virtual pick me up as you stood outside of your vehicle in the parking garage when visitor hours ended. A few moments later you managed to unlock and climb into the open door to begin another drive away from the one person you ached to bring home and show off the fruits of his plans to have this dream home come to life as it had. Warm hugs were the reward for having made the trip without more than a few stray tears. And with supper taken to the living room a film was to be chosen by Legolas to watch while you ate. The process of locating that film had him flipping through the channels only to stop when a press conference with Melkor’s wife and her brats halted his finger above the button to click away.
A claim they were locked out of the board meetings was followed by questions from reporters who aimed to test the validity of their claims that they had the only rights to the company. Each question was answered with even to the most novice person could tell that they had no clue what the answers to any question offered that proved to the world that they were useless and had no chance of being handed the keys. Just three questions in and boldly the press began to leave to be followed by shouts from the spurned idiots to only lure on more headlines for new reasons of their own.
Thranduil muttered sarcastically, “Well, they are doing a magnificent job.”
Legolas nods, “At least they’ll have their names in the papers a few more days.”
You laid back against Dewey’s chest that made him curl around you as you let out another groan, “Can’t we just lock them up somewhere?”
They both chuckled and Legolas answered, “Don’t think there’s a deep or dark enough place to lock them in.”
Meanwhile next door the Durins all grouped around the large TV in their living room watching the press conference Thorin’s anger swelled as it continued, unsure of why, Dwalin nudged him. With a silent nod at his fist on the verge of ripping the leather off the arm of their couch, “Careful there Thorin. What’s got you so riled up?”
The words drew the attention of his family, he cleared his throat as he released the fist full of leather, “My Mate must be watching this nonsense as well.” Rubbing his face as his family chuckled. “Clearly loathes that lot.”
Dis, “So, what is she like then?”
Thorin looked over at her and let out a groan, “Haven’t met her yet, spotted her twice though. That SUV next door, she was driving it. Next time I see the Greenleaves I’m going to ask them who she is.”
Balin, “The Greenleaves?”
Thorin nodded, “Saw her leaving their driveway the day before the construction started, they’ve been helping with the work I suppose.”
Nearly half an hour too long an amorous morning with Dewey ended out of a hasty required task to get dressed and head out for the day. Him off to his next landscaping job while you and Legolas were off to your new University for the registration day. The spacious campus seemed to stretch on far beyond what you could see and with your leg propped up to secure your wedge booties with the ribbons to tie on the front one at a time to aid in reaching anything that might be out of your reach. As usual just by the crowd of future students passing by were well over your head in this Elven school built to accommodate taller bodies unlike your feisty petite self. A chuckle from Legolas turned your head and he said, “Missed something, nearly had a 2319,” and a tug of a stowaway sock from the back of your tight black shirt that was fresh from the dryer had you shake your head in a giggle.
“And Dew Drop walked behind me too. He’s set me up to be tackled and shaved.” The both of you grabbed your bags and climbed out, him with a smooth of his hand over his shirt and you with a fix of the waistband of your jeans.
With it locked behind you together you started the path to the first stop designated on the itineraries you had been sent. Smoothly enough the process was handled with his arm that looped around your lower back in a habit whenever he caught someone staring your way and your giant Dew Drop wasn’t there. Any possible advances were thwarted by his contact, while each absent stroke of your fingers between your loose curls hung over your shoulder and part of your face that had in the past lured many a stranger over to the appeal of the peaceful expression your face shifted to when lost in thought to keep calm in bustling crowds. From ID’s to paperwork and a few more books you were to pick up as they were unavailable for early purchase each step was crossed off including a stop to let Legolas check in with his chosen clubs and timelines for team tryouts.
On the way to the next to last stop and again his arm eased around your back in the electrified slide of familiar blue eyes over your body as you passed. Unable to stop you Thorin across the courtyard in a swarm of females bent on the goal of his phone number. Lost to the chance to speak to his Mate under the arm of the youngest Greenleaf he was certain that they knew you well and could help him meet you once he explained his interest in you.
As you wove through the crowds Legolas chuckled, “Well he certainly got a good look at you that time. Won’t be surprised if he comes chasing after us.”
You let out a quiet groan as you slipped into the last sign in room, “If he does I’m sprinting for the car.”
After waiting in line you got your second set of IDs more specific to your fields to grant you access into deeper parts of the library and computer databases, where you grabbed your last sets of manuals and books for those fields and headed back to the car.
Thorin had once again been thwarted at his attempt to speak to you. But watched carefully as you wove through the crowd avoiding contact with everyone but Legolas’, trying to figure out why. He let out a huff and turned away from his last obstructer ignoring them and strode off for his class to wait until the staff meeting starting in a short while. Once you had returned home you both set up all of your things. Including the dinner you had picked up.
Dewey came straight for you when he arrived first to hug and kiss you again before turning to his son who had wrapped his arms around you both making you chuckle. Among the process of the day he filled in his father, including Thorin’s behavior that had Dewey chuckle and guide you to eat with an internal assumption a visit from the Dwarf might be coming so he could get to meet you.
The next few days came with as much time with Melkor as possible between bouts in your workshop and focus on those textbooks you had just gotten in hopes to get ahead in those classes. In just one day you had nearly finished all of them. Everything you could need was gathered and left to wait for your first day. Then simply turned to be curled in Dewey’s arms for one kiss that led to Thorin’s night of tossing and turning from your dreams when your earring had slipped off.
A trail of lips down your back was eased by the shift you made to silence your alarm. Over your ear one of Dewey’s hand moved to slip your earring back in place then trailed down your back. Determined to cup and squeeze along the way to the gentle sink of his teeth into your butt cheek on the skin left exposed by your small panties that barely covered them halfway. After a gentle press of his lips landed there and then did the same on the other cheek in a grip of your hips to turn you over and tug those panties down in one move. All across your thighs kisses were left on the way to your core to see you to euphoria more than once.
A shower was came next, for which he lifted you in his arms and carried you into the warm water in a step out of his boxer briefs he pushed down. One more reason to stay home was the feel of his hands in his chosen task to help you scrub clean and rinse off again to a sudden slip of fingers inside you again to the plant of his lips in the dip of your neck. Firm on his lips when his head pulled back yours planted and his fingers eased back in your turn and loop of arms around his neck. Off the ground with his body able to take the weight of yours without a thought yours lifted to wrap around his middle. Muffled against your lips his chuckle died at your hand that dipped to ease him inside of you.
Down your neck his lips moved to plant there and he hummed in a full plant of you against the wall to thrust deep inside of you with no intention of letting you go. “You’re going to be late.”
Through a breathy giggle you replied, “Worth it.” Making him chuckle again and his hands ease across your body to cup and caress as he wished.
Returned from his trip to fetch drinks to power your day after a stop at the gym Legolas parked out front where he’d pulled up just moments after you had made your way out. Over the top of your tight thin tank top you jerked your long thin sleeve shirt and Thranduil’s worn green flannel shirts over the top of that. While he pulled out of the driveway your trusty wedge booties were tied on again once you’d secured your seatbelt. To the lower of the visor to use the mirror there he smirked asking, “Forget to set your alarm?”
On top of your lap the makeup bag you’d unzipped sat as you replied through a weak chuckle, “Slept through it.” Eye liner, mascara and nude eye shadow was added before a simple fluff of your curls came to ensure it laid over your ears to ensure your earring was covered to avoid that conversation again with more people who lived to be singularly centered around a bond with their destined person and no others.
The caramel apple cider he had brought you was sipped on when you leaned back again with makeup bag back in your schoolbag. Turn to turn he glanced your way fully aware of the worry that read across your face. Parked in the lot the pair of you climbed out and back at your side he gave you a warm hug knowing you were off to separate directions. “Don’t let him get to you, if he does let me know.”
You nodded, “I will, see you later.” Both of you split in trade of a small wave and were off through the crowd to your first class.
Mentally by use of the map you memorized in the last hallway you turned and stole a glance at the clock along the wall to find yourself 20 minutes early. A stern voice with comments of your Grandfather sounded, spouting off the same cruel comments on his public reputation that repeated years worth of so called facts on his personality and treatment of his workers. “The old man should just roll over and give up, leave his Company to someone who could actually make something useful and positive out of it.” With one final arm flailing out the stern Dwarf got a sharp sting in his chest when his arm collided with something turning.
Sharp his head turned when he heard a quiet gasp as a drink spilled over his arm. His eyes froze on you as you bent to pick up your bag that you had dropped, his eyes focused on the drink that had spilled out over your chest and hands. He held out his hand to steady you as you stood, speaking in the same stern voice though this time with a hint of concern, “I didn’t see you there.”
The tall Dwarf next to him with a matching pair of eyes watched with concern as you pulled a washcloth out of your bag. Wiping off your hands and avoiding his touch and gaze to wordlessly. Promptly you turned and walked away from him as you tried to wipe off your chest, throwing your now empty cup in the trashcan nearby and turned the corner to slip into your class.
Thorin was now shaking as he clenched his jaw pulling back his hand slowly exhaling to keep from bolting after his Mate with a soft growl as he turned back to his cousin who said, “How hot was the drink?”
Thorin let out a soft grumble in a glance at his now stained sleeve, “Not very.”
Dwalin let out a breath and he glanced in the direction you had gone, “She probably went to go clean up, looks like she got the most of it down her shirt.”
Thorin nodded and he tried to quench his silent rage as your refusal to touch him, “Probably.”
Dwalin patted him on the back, “I take it that was her then?”
Thorin nodded, “Yes it was.”
Dwalin gave him a chuckle, “Just give her a break, it’s not the best way to meet your Mate, having a hot drink dumped all over you. Just roll up your sleeve and next time you run into her, try to not actually ‘run’ into her, especially if she’s got a drink in her hand.” Thorin nodded again and they both went to their classes as he unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to hide the stain then repeated the action with the other sleeve.
..
Thankfully the classroom sat empty and in a downward glance you eyed the massive still warm stain across your chest. Best you could the warm liquid across your chest was wiped dry and the flannel you borrowed was removed to ease the removal of your long sleeved shirt. Folded and tucked into an empty pocket on your bag with the wet side inside the flannel was pulled on again to help cover your now almost fully exposed cleavage and bra through the thin tank top. Thankfully it was mainly stain free except for the left side near to the thin left strap. Easily hidden by buttoning the flannel at the third button to keep it closed while you bit the inside of your lip to keep from crying from your Mate’s cruel comments about your grandfather. Nothing you hadn’t heard before but from him those words hurt all the more with how close him and Thror had been. Onto your desk you settled a notepad and your pen while your mind tried to force your body to stop trembling from nerves at the continued sting of your Mark from that collision.
Glances between your notes to the ring Dewey had given to you that sat on your right ring finger kept your mind too distracted to let your body drop any tears. Right in the center a halo cut deep purple stone was surrounded by two half circles of the same shade, each circled by shimmering white stones and forest green topaz. The matching second band accented with unseen ithildin accents of bluebells was topped by more shimmering white stones and forest green topaz. The reminder of your true love you were glad to see was untouched by the drink. Thoughts of the Partner you had chosen and not the one forced upon you by nature lured you back to center again knowing he was going to be at home tonight to cling to while you fought against everything nature was in a try to force upon you and all you had dreamed of.
.
The next few classes went smoothly, after which to the library you went. With a wish to double check a chapter from a book you had read years ago to silently prove your imaginary argument with the student who tried to argue back with the teacher trying to prove he knew better.
As you left you were bumped into by a thin young man who had lost his balance trying to place his books back in his bags. He turned giving you a good look over his grey cardigan with a pale purple shirt on under it with a grey tie and jeans with clean expensive running shoes under, with a familiar shade of piercing blue eyes and reddish blonde short hair brushed to the side, “Oh I’m terribly sorry.”
You gave him a small smile as you steadied him, “That’s alright, you’re not the first one to crash into me today.” He let out a nervous chuckle and caught your eyes, flinching slightly at their purple shade before realizing it and gave you another smile as he offered his hand, “Ori Durin.”
You accepted his hand, “Jaqiearae Pear.”
“Oh…so you’re last name isn’t..”
“Mordor? My mother took my father’s name, though I have considered changing it back, but my grandfather said it would probably be better to grow up without his name he said it’d be easier for me.”
He took a nervous step, “So you spent a lot of time with him, Melkor I mean?”
“He raised me after my parents died.”
His smile dropped as he took a small step forward at your face dropping a little, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“So what are you studying?”
Your smile came back a bit, “I’m starting my graduate courses to become a veterinarian.”
“What a small world, so am I. Are you going to work with large animals or smaller ones, I’m hoping for a spot in an aviary working with exotic birds.”
“The common field with house pets and the like. I’ve already got a job at a small Vet office not far from here.”
His smile grew again, “Really, do they work with birds? I’ve got an internship at the zoo with the bird sanctuary.”
“We get the occasional chicken and parakeet or cockatiel, mostly we have to send them to a different office for treatment if it’s nothing past a damaged wing or foot.”
“When are you heading for lunch?”
“Just now, wanted to check something first.”
He smiled again as he slung his bag back over his shoulder, “Good, if you wanted you could join me, we could talk more about our course plans if you like.”
You nodded, “Sounds good.”
As you headed back out you spotted a young thin tall blonde woman with a neon pink shirt and matching shoes with a familiar brown cherry on the side of her neck, as Ori started saying, “You know, I wonder what my family would say if they heard I was having lunch with Melkor Mordor’s granddaughter.”
“Thror and Melkor served in the War together you know, they were really close until my parents died.”
He glanced over at you quickly, “Really?”
You nodded, “That’s why we went to his funeral, to pay respects to his old friend.”
“That’s why…I was little when he passed, I just remember hearing about it later.”
“Are you taking a spot in the Durin Company as well?”
“I have a part time job in the filing section, but I plan on focusing on animals, there’s tons of Durins around to run the company they don’t need me. You?”
“I’m the interim CEO, I’m going to be handling both jobs, I have some cousins, but it’s mostly just me right now.”
He glanced at you with a slightly concerned look as you wove through the crowd, “Is he going to get better?”
Your voice broke as you spoke out softly, “No.”
“Oh…I’m so sorry Jaqi…I can call you Jaqi?”
You glanced over at him with a small smile giving him a quick nod, “Yes.”
He smiled again before turning back to look at the courtyard. The last empty table was the clear goal. On its own the button on the flannel eased itself undone to let it flow around you drawing a few people’s attention. Including two pairs of piercing blue eyes from across the courtyard, Thorin intently held his gaze that made your mark tingle as he took in every inch of your exposed skin and tight shirt from the neck down the exposed bust. From the stain he left on you to your stomach his eyes scanned again with a disappointed huff when your thin shirt was still not thin enough to tell if you had a small heart on your stomach.
Dwalin beside him chuckled to the grunt that followed your hand closing the flannel over your chest again, then said, “Nice body she’s got there.”
He chuckled again as Thorin turned and shot him a glare, “Do…”
He raised his hand to cut him off, “Joking, Thorin. She is gorgeous, but you know I’m not going there.”
His eyes furrowed as he grumbled and turned back to you, “She’s friends with Ori…wonder how they met.”
Dwalin chuckled again as you both settled into the table and both pulled out your lunches and started to eat, “So no threats to Ori?”
Thorin chuckled as he crossed his arms still watching you closely, “I’ll speak to him later.”
His eyes darted to a muscular tall blonde Elf who headed straight for your side. Once there he straddled the bench and wrapped his arm around your back and kissed your cheek as he brushed your hair back, speaking in Elvish, “Dear…” Switching to Common tongue, “What happened to your shirt?”  His hand moved from your belly to the collar of your flannel shirt out so he could glance at the stains.
“Ran into someone this morning, spilled my drink, you should see my other shirt. Oh, Haldir, this is Ori Durin.”
They quickly shook hands, “Haldir Lothlorien.”
Ori, “Pleasure.”
Haldir, “Have your classes gone well?”
“So far, though one of my Professors seems to be glaring at me at the moment.”
They both looked around and Ori’s eyes stopped on his Uncles giving them a quick wave, “Those are my Uncles, Dwalin and Thorin, which one were you talking about?”
“Thorin, I have him later today…” You looked back at your schedule, “And Dwalin as well apparently.”
Haldir, “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”
Ori nodded, “Just his face, he stares like that at everybody even family.”
Haldir, “Well, if he gives you any trouble let me know.” Running his finger through your hair again as he shoots a glare right back at him, then looking back at you softly, “No offense there Ori, but the older Durins I’ve met are quick to feud.”
Ori chuckled as he caught Thorin’s glare turn to a heated scowl as Haldir stroked your cheek before giving it another quick peck, “Oh, no insult taken at all, when it’s not with other people it’s all aimed at family.”
“Oh Haldir, you should drop in the library while you can.”
“Really, why’s that?”
“I spotted your Mate.” His eyes popped open wider, “She should still be there, the blonde one with neon pink sweater and matching shoes.” He quickly hugged you and kissed you on the cheek.
“I gotta go see her!” He paused and his face dropped.
You caught his eye switching to Elvish again, “You go, consider us over, you’re free to go fly through the clouds with your Soul Mate.” Shooting him a wink.
“I won’t forget this. I know we will all be great friends!” Hugging you again happily as he sprinted off with his bag, Thorin caught your saddened look before you masked it again as you mumble to yourself, “You’ll forget me, people always do.”
You glance back at Ori, catching Thorin’s glare pulling back a little as he watched you intently, “So you two weren’t-?”
You chuckled, “Not really, no. His parents kept bugging him about having children since we were little. Wanted to wait for his Mate, so he needed a beard, so I sit on his arm at parties and I get to be with my Partner the rest of the year.”
He smiled again, “Your Partner? How long have you been together?”
“Nearly 6 years now.”
His eyes darted to the ring on your hand again, gently grabbing it and pulled the hand closer to him making Thorin’s glare come back when he noticed the massive ring, “This from him? It is a him right?”
You giggled, “Yes he bought it for me. We exchanged rings at Christmas.” He let go of your hand and you brushed back your hair as two other Dwarves joined you, one with Durin blue eyes, blonde hair and another with deep hazel eyes with matching hair, both saying, “Ori just who is this angel you’ve managed to snag?”
You glanced up at them and their faces went blank as they caught your purple eyes, “Jaqi Pear.”
Holding out your hand for them to shake, both taking turns, “Fili.”
Fili leaned in closer and you caught a glimpse of his yellow star mark on his collar bone and the orange bird just above Kili’s right elbow as Fili said, “Pity you don’t have a star under there.”
Gently sliding the collar of your large shirt to the side as Kili grabbed your sleeve and lifted it slowly, letting out a huff as there was not bird there saying, “Kili. No bird either, damn.”
Fili, “Any feathers?” Glancing at Ori who rolled his eyes as Kili lifted your left sleeve turning your hand over searching for the small yellow feather matching Ori’s on his left wrist, saying, “No feather either.”
Both of their eyes darting to Ori who said, “We’re both studying to be veterinarians. Though she’s a few years ahead of me.”
Both, “Oh.” Smiling again.
Kili, “I’m gonna be an architect.”
Fili, “I’m studying Law.”
They both turned as they caught Ori’s glance at their Uncles who were still watching, then turned back, Kili said, “Looks like you’ve met our Uncles.”
“Not officially, I have their classes later.”
Both, “Ah.”
Fili, “Should go well.”
Kili, “Hope you enjoy essays, Uncle Thorin loves them.”
��Well I enjoy writing them, no problem there.”
Fili, “And Dwalin loves a good surprise test.”
“Good to know.”
Fili, “So who was blondie?”
“Guy I used to date.”
Kili, “Looked a bit too friendly to be used to.”
You giggled, “As of 3 minutes ago, it’s used to, I spotted his Mate in the Library.”
Their faces dropped, as Fili said, “And he just left you like that?”
“We weren’t that serious, just went to parties to shut his family up about having kids someday.”
Kili blurted out, “Kids, how old are you that they’re talking about children already, you’re still in University!”
You giggled again, “I’m 22, but he’s in line to help run Lothlorien Inc one day, needs an heir, not all of us breed like Durins.” Making the three of them chuckle again.”
Fili, “Oh come on, I hear Melkor’s got 9 children just raring to take over.” He let out a chuckle.
Your face twitched into a scowl that you tried to fight back, “They aren’t his children.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    
Fili, “Sorry, meant it as a joke, anyone with eyes could see that they’re not his.”
Kili, “Especially after that disaster of a press conference. Not an ounce of sense between them.”
Fili, “I take it you’re not close then?”
“When my grandfather got sent to the hospital their mother kicked me out. She’s been trying to take my seat for years.”
Ori, “You’re homeless?”
“No, he bought me a house, just fixed it up, moved in that night.”
Ori let out a relieved sigh, “Oh good, if you hadn’t there’s tons of room at our place. Though I’m sure you could always stay with your Partner.”
Fili/Kili, “Partner?”
Fili, “He know about blondie?”
You nodded, “Ya, our families are old friends, our relationship isn’t exactly front page news.”
Kili, “Why not?”
“He’s older. Nearly 10 years.”
Fili smiled larger again, “Ah, so he’s our Uncle’s age, how long have you been together?”
Ori, “Nearly 6 years, bought her a ring.”
Their hands reached out to grab your hand making Thorin clench again, “Wow…Must be loaded!”
You rolled your eyes and pulled your hand back resting your chin in your palm giving Thorin a chance to see the large stones sparkling in the sunlight, Kili asked, “What’s his name?”
“Thranduil Greenleaf.”
They all smiled and Ori said, “Oh so you’re our new neighbor then. It looks fantastic, have you furnished it yet?”
“Thank you. I’m working on it.”
Ori, “Where are you shopping?”
“I’m building it not buying it, family tradition.”
Fili/Kili/Ori, “Really?”
Kili, “So you must be really good at wood crafting then.”
“The second wife tried to put me in my place by making me work in the company from the ground up. I’ve worked on pretty much everything to do with construction and carving.”
Fili/Kili, “Impressive!”
“Went a bit against her plans, making me even more of an ally to my workers, hoping I’d have just given up.”
Fili, “I’ve never seen a dragon flee from a fight!”
Kili, “She should have known better!”
Ori glanced at his watch, “Oh, almost time for class.” You both cleaned up and you all went your separate ways.
Pt 4
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kentonramsey · 5 years
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You Look Moist: Man Repeller’s Creative Director on the “Obvious” Thing That Changed Her Skin
Welcome to You Look Moist, a regular column wherein Man Repeller asks cool people with glowing visages how they achieved their supreme hydration (amongst other things). Today’s installment features Tiffany Wilkinson, Man Repeller’s Creative Director.
How would you describe your skin?
When I was trying to take a selfie to accompany this feature, I was half-jokingly thinking of asking to rename the franchise “You Look Tired.” I’m 36, and while I recognize this is not “old,” I definitely don’t feel as fresh-faced as I used to. No giggling, Glossier-esqe model here. Just a normal, adult, New York-dwelling woman in the last stretch of winter trying not to look dehydrated.  
How would you describe your skincare approach in general?
When I was younger I was proud of my low-maintenance status. It felt cool to be too busy going out and having fun to have an elaborate skincare routine. I know this sounds disgusting, but I hated washing my face at night, so most of the time I wouldn’t do it. 
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more high-maintenance. I was starting to feel self-conscious about the fine lines on my forehead and I was considering getting Botox. My friend Zeyna (who has incredible skin) said, “don’t get Botox, just get a facial.” Once I’d spent the money on a facial and 30+ years worth of gunk had been extracted from my face, it seemed crazy to go back to the dirty-faced ways of my youth. 
I decided to establish a really decadent evening routine so I’d look forward to washing my face at night. It sounds so obvious now, but this simple act TOTALLY changed my skin, and the adult acne I’d struggled with through my 20s and early 30s disappeared.
Which skin care products are integral to your routine for achieving your ideal, glowing, well-moisturized complexion, and how/when do you use each of them? 
Here’s my routine: 
Evening: I start with Tata Harper Nourishing Oil Cleanser, (okay, I know this is really expensive for something you wash off. But it smells so good, and the aromatherapy effect really encourages me to use it, even if I’ve just woken up on the sofa after sleeping through the last half of Succession.) 
That goes onto a dry face, then I use an Eve Lom Cloth or a Muji Flannel soaked in warm water to take it all off. Afterwards I do a spray of Grown Alchemist Detox Toner–or, even posher–a glug of Amore Pacific Essence. The last step is Linda Rodin’s Olio Lusso, which I started using because I liked the packaging and I thought Linda Rodin was cool. I stuck with it because it smells good, feels nice on my face, and I wake up well-moisturized. She makes a nice Lavender version, too, which is great if you need some extra help sleeping at night. I keep this clear Kosas Lipbalm on my nightstand, which has hyaluronic acid and tastes minty–the perfect accompaniment to freshly brushed teeth. 
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Morning: My morning routine is much more utilitarian. I listen to The Daily in the shower and Michael Barbaro tells me what’s going on in the world while I get clean. I use Cetaphil to wash my face and bar soap for my body. I have a stash from Marfa Brand, they are all so good but my favorite is the Campfire Soap with Lapsang Souchong. 
My mother drilled into me from an early age that to be ashy was a fate worse than death, so post-shower I do an intense body moisturizing session. I’ll either use True Botanicals Body Oil on wet skin straight out of the shower, or depending on how dried-out I’m feeling, I’ll use Weleda Sea Buckthorn Fluid or Weleda Skin Food Body Butter. I like that they are natural options (no petroleum) but not super expensive. In the dead of winter, if I’m feeling really extra, I’ll use the Hyaluronic Acid from the Ordinary under my lotion. It’s especially good on my shins which after four months of being suffocated in tights can get a little dry (and, dare I say it—”scaley”).
On my face I’ll use the same Hyaluronic Acid, then either Dr Jart Ceramidin Cream, which I copied from Harling. Or this Susanne Kaufmann one which is all-natural and super thick. Then a blob of SPF. 
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What about makeup products? 
The basic makeup products in my rotation are RMS Uncover Up, Hourglass Volumizing Brow Gel, Kevin Aucoin’s Mascara. 
Then, I have a million different cream blushes on rotation; Jillian Dempsey Check Tint in Sunny (Most natural/invisible, looks like you but healthier.) Olio E Osso Balm in Tea Rose (works on lips and cheeks and is especially good if you don’t have anything else on–I’ll put on before I go work out because it has a sporty vibe.) Or Kjaer Weis (sexiest bond girl packaging, good to keep in your bag for touch-ups.) 
If I’m going out in the evening and want to feel like I’ve made a bit of an effort, I’ll do some smudgy brown kohl, a liquid eyeliner flick, or a red lip. This Kosas red is a flattering ’90s-ish brick color. 
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What’s the cheapest product you use regularly and love?
Sleep, water, and this natural deodorant. I’ve tested a lot of different types in the quest for the perfect natural deodorant. This one works the best, has cute ’70s packaging and is also the cheapest ($3!). My boyfriend started using it, too, so now we bulk buy it on Amazon. 
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Is there anything you try to avoid, skincare- or makeup-wise?
There was a period where I was really overdoing it with the exfoliation. P50, Retinol, Lactic Acid–you name it, I was exfoliating with it. Every article I read was lauding these really active products, so I kept buying them and my skin got really sensitive and bumpy. My facialist told me to cool it and just use Hyaluronic Acid. Now I only exfoliate once a week, normally with this Tata Harper Resurfacing Mask, which really feels like it gets in there and sets me up for the week ahead. 
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Inside the waterfall > outside the waterfall
A post shared by tiffany wilkinson (@the_wilkinson) on Oct 20, 2019 at 1:42pm PDT
Any next-level tips, tricks, or services that you swear by to help you look “lit from within”?
I started taking the Prebiotic Probiotic from The Nue Co (#MRPartner) about a year ago. I was traveling a lot and wanted a probiotic that didn’t need to be kept in the fridge to help with the digestive issues I was having from all the flying. This one did the trick, and the difference it made to my skin was a happy side effect. I recently started taking their Skin Hydrator too, which is collagen plus hyaluronic acid. Since I’m already in the habit of applying hyaluronic acid topically to my face and legs, I like the idea that this product gives me an extra dose on the inside, too.
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Then every other month I’ll get a facial. I alternate between Rescue Spa for an indulgent, self-care moment with fruit water, relaxing spa vibes and a nice shop with a well-curated product selection that’s fun to browse even if you aren’t getting a treatment. Then for a more utilitarian, “tough love” kind of facial I go to Haven Spa, around the corner from the MR Office. I see Mariola for the Boot Camp
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Facial, which is exactly what it sounds like—lots of extractions, lots of pressure on your face. A week afterward, my skin looks really clear and I can basically stop wearing makeup. 
What’s your go-to product or trick for fixing a skin disaster?
For spots and pimples, I like Sunday Riley’s Saturn Mask. It will nuke a zit overnight, but buyer beware: Use it really sparingly, as a spot treatment only (not full face), because it’s strong! 
As a trick for looking fresher without makeup, I use KNC Lip Masks. I noticed I lost a little volume in my lips as I got older. These masks temporarily plump them back up, which has an overall pick-me-up effect, especially in the winter when everything can get a little dried out. 
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Do you do anything differently skincare-wise when you travel?
Pre-flight I always test out the most expensive moisturizer I can find when I go through the duty-free shop. On the plane I put a little oil inside my nose using my pinkie finger to stop it from drying out in the recycled air.  
Once I’m away, I’m normally a weird combination of being extra diligent about some things (applying sunscreen religiously), and a little sloppy about other things because I’m often missing some products due to packing in a rush. But I love an excuse to visit pharmacies in foreign countries, so in that sense it’s kind of nice to forget things. 
What’s something you wish your teenage self knew about taking care of your skin?
Wash your face and don’t waste your time feeling insecure about your looks.
The post You Look Moist: Man Repeller’s Creative Director on the “Obvious” Thing That Changed Her Skin appeared first on Man Repeller.
You Look Moist: Man Repeller’s Creative Director on the “Obvious” Thing That Changed Her Skin published first on https://normaltimepiecesshop.tumblr.com/ You Look Moist: Man Repeller’s Creative Director on the “Obvious” Thing That Changed Her Skin published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/
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