#my great grandmother had alzheimers. i was looking at her face as she had a moment of lucidity and remembered me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

intoanothermind · 4 years ago

Text

Idyllic - Enoch O’Connor

Word Count: 11.3k words

– Enoch O’Connor x reader

Synopsis: Is it possible to fall in love through stories? Well, it happened to me. I fell in love with the stories that my grandmother told me.

Masterlist

(Okay, maybe I got a bit too excited writing this. But it was worth it, I liked the result, even if first I was going to make a whole fanfic out of this idea. And I based it off the movie as I still haven’t read the books. AU where Jacob was never followed by Barron.)

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I analysed the sepia photograph that almost shattered in my hands. It was old and worn out - from the time and the number of times it has been handled. The photo represented a small cave that seemed to be forgotten by everyone. The passage to the time that permeated most of my grandmother's teenage stories. I lowered the photo, seeing that I was directly in front of that same cave, on the small Welsh island of Cairnholm. I put the photograph in the pocket of my torn jeans and took a deep breath, trying to ignore how shaky my hands were. This was the moment I had been waiting for years, since my grandmother started telling me stories about this loop and I fell in love. I took a deep breath, knowing that this moment would change my life and I would not go back to my time again. I was prepared to leave everything I knew behind, with the proper farewells already made.

I squeezed the strap of the backpack that held some of my belongings and entered the cave. I could tell when I entered 1943. The air changed around me, becoming more dense before quieting. The sounds became calmer and my breathing heavier despite being in less polluted air - but I could blame the emotions. When I returned to the beach, the sky was no longer terribly cloudy. Instead, blue was prevalent, with only a few clouds. I smiled, because that meant I had done it. I followed the beach along the path I had taken the day before, when I visited the wreckage of the orphanage. It hadn’t been a pleasant visit. Even knowing the loops existed and how all the children were saved, seeing the place in pieces was heartbreaking. No wonder Grandma never returned to that place. But as I retraced my journey - familiar and at the same time unsettlingly different - I was trying to control my emotions. I didn't know how everyone would react to my presence. Grandma was still in correspondence with Miss Peregrine, but I didn't know the extent of their knowledge about me. Much less if they knew I was coming and whether they would be receptive to my arrival or not.

I started to hyperventilate when imagining the possibility of not being accepted, by everyone and by a peculiar one in particular. I stopped where I was, a few feet from crossing the small stream before the trees that hid the orphanage, and tried to take a deep breath. Even though there was a chance I wouldn’t be accepted, I had no other choice. Grandma was already getting old to protect me alone from the Hollows and I had no choice but to head to one of the loops around the world marked on the map Grandma gave me - and of course my obvious choice would be the one where my grandmother spent almost a decade living. When I felt calmer, I continued my walk. Seeing the big house - with reddish bricks and flowers growing through the structure - that housed Grandma's best childhood friends, I couldn't help the smile forming on my lips. The first to see me was a small, blond little girl in a pink dress that swayed around her body as she ran towards me.

“Eloise! You came back!”

My heart sank and the smile was gone.

“I ... I'm not Eloise. I'm her granddaughter, Y/N.” I replied. She stopped in front of me, studying my face.

She looked a little sad, but soon opened a big smile. “You look a lot like her. I'm Claire. Come, you have to meet everyone! They will be very happy!”

She started pulling me by the arm and, as much as I was eager to get to know everyone - even though I already knew from the stories I heard all my life - there was something I needed to do before.

“I would really love to, but I think I need to speak to Miss Peregrine first. Can you take me to her? Then you can introduce me to everyone.”

“Of course! Let's go!

Claire took me to the door. Every few meters that we walked, some new child turned to see who Claire was guiding so excitingly. Whispers and murmurs after a few seconds of silence. My arrival left the other children in an uproar. Wide eyes and surprised faces, they started whispering to each other, but none approached as Claire led me to the door. Perhaps because of my resemblance to my grandmother or the current clothes I wore. I looked among the children who were watching me, but the face I was looking for, however, was not among them.

“Miss Peregrine!” exclaimed Claire, entering the house with me.

As soon as we passed the bluish door, I looked around in wonder. Everything was so clear and clean. The staircase in front of me was complete, as were the side doors and the corridor hidden under the stairs on the right. So different from the orphanage that I visited back in 2019, the day before. That orphanage was destroyed, the wreckage left by the German bombing more than half a century before, still lying there.

“Y/N!

I looked at the person who called me and instantly recognized Alma Peregrine from the pictures Grandma showed me. Thin face and short hair with bluish threads. Blue eyes wide with a gleam of insanity, anxiety and wisdom. I smiled when I saw her approaching me with two cups in hand.

“Just in time, dear.” She said, handing me one of the cups. The smell that rose made me realize it was mint tea. “Claire, you can go play with the others. I'll take Y/N to meet everyone in a moment.” she told the blonde girl who still held my hand.

“But, Miss Peregrine...” Claire started to mumble, but the woman gave her a steady look that made her release my hand and jump happily back out.

“My name is Alma Peregrine, but I imagine I already knew that information.”

I smiled, nodding and accepting the handshake. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Peregrine.”

“The pleasure is mine, dear. Eloise talked a lot about you and warned us of your arrival.” She put a hand on my shoulder and guided me down the hall under the stairs, but stopped before we entered. “Leave your bag by the stairs, you can take it to your room later.”

I did as she asked and we headed down the hall, then into the kitchen and finally out into the courtyard. It was large, with grass, trees and shrubs pruned in various shapes - I could recognize an elephant, a centaur with a bow and arrow stretched out and a dinosaur farther down, near a football goalpost, where two boys played. One had bees around him and the other, well, I could just make out the clothes. Hugh and Millard. A blond boy was sitting under the dinosaur-shaped bush, shouting penalties at both of them while sharing his attention with a book. Beside him was a girl with brown braided hair and a few freckles watching the two boys play. Horace and Fiona.

Before we approached the presentations, however, I remembered something important.

“Oh, Miss Peregrine.” I said after taking another sip of tea. I reached for my jeans pocket by the folded letter and handed it to him under a curious look. “Grandma asked me to give it to you as soon as I arrived. You’ll have her new address, some new information before she forgot and… let's say attempts to keep in touch while you can.”

Alma Peregrine looked up at my face and I immediately recognized the look of pity and anguish that I so wanted to avoid.

“I'm sorry for your family, Y/N. And for Eloise too.”

I broke into a forced smile.

“It's all right. My parents' death happened many years ago, it isn’t something that bothers me very much.” I said and, on the one hand, I wasn’t lying. I was only eight when the Hollows killed them trying to get to me and my grandmother. Since then, Grandma and I haven't settled in one place for a long time and she was always with me, taking care of me. Until she thought it was appropriate for me to go on a loop because Alzheimer was advancing little by little. “And about Grandma... Well... We both knew that day was coming and she prepared me for it.”

“Still” Peregrine said, putting the letter in her dress pocket and hugging my shoulders “, I'm sorry.”

I nodded. “Only you and I have her new address. She wanted me to correspond with her while the disease is not yet very advanced and she can still remember.”

“Of course!” Peregrine stated. I sighed, relieved. I knew that someone other than her corresponding to the outside of the loop could be dangerous and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to have contact with Grandma. “As long as possible, you can send letters to her and I will help you with that.”

“Thank you, Miss Peregrine.”

She smiled warmly at me, before being distracted by someone calling her name. I followed his gaze and saw Claire approaching again, this time with a girl about her size, with brown curls dangling around her face. I smiled as I recognized Bronwyn and right behind them the twins dressed in white clothes from head to toe.

“Y/N, you already knew Claire” Peregrine started the presentations. “and this is Bronwyn and the twins.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said, smiling at the children in front of me.

The twins jumped a little, looking excited, but Bronwyn stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my legs. She lifted me up and I had to hold on to her shoulders to keep from falling when she lifted me off the floor.

“I'm very happy to meet Eloise's granddaughter, she was always sending photos of you.”

“Bronwyn, put her on the floor!” Miss Peregrine hurried to say, but I could only laugh.

“It's quite alright.” I assured. “It's really nice to meet Grandma's friends too, Bronwyn, she talked a lot about you.”

She giggled as she put me back on the floor and let out a “it'll be great to have you live with us” before running with Claire and the twins into the house. I looked at Peregrine, a little confused.

“The children knew that when you came it was to stay, Eloise always warned us of this, although not everyone believed that you would really come.” she paused and I wondered if she knew I could guess who she was referring to. “Claire must have spread it to everyone that you were here.”

We went further into the courtyard, approaching Horace and Fiona, who soon got up when they saw us.

“These are Horace and Fiona.” said Miss Peregrine. “Fiona, it's almost time.”

Fiona smiled broadly and waved at me before running towards the front of the house, to the garden there, while Horace watched my clothes curiously.

“This is an interesting attire.”

I lowered my head, examining my clothes. Half-worn jeans, a white T-shirt and a denim jacket on top, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. On my feet I had a pair of black mid-high all stars. Ordinary clothing, at least for the year I came from. I opened my eyes wide when I realized that I would have to adapt to the 1943 dress. Which meant I couldn't wear pants, let alone jeans.

“Miss Peregrine, will I not be able to wear my clothes?” I asked, almost getting desperate. I wasn’t at all comfortable in skirts and dresses.

Peregrine sighed, half defeated. I was sure Grandma must have had some discussions about it with her in the letters.

“It wouldn’t be ideal, but if you only use them inside the house, where no one but us would see it... I think we can work out a deal.” She said, taking me farther in the yard, passing the boys playing. “These are Hugh and Millard.” they waved at me, but continued the game. Well, Hugh waved and Millard must have touched his hat, which moved a little in the air. “And this is Jacob and Emma.”

I turned my head at the sound of the strange name. Emma was easy to recognize from Grandma's photographs. Blonde and very beautiful. She was barefoot and tied to a rope, floating back to the floor. On the other side of the rope was a tall, thin boy with black hair and blue eyes. Beside him were Emma's heavy shoes. But as I looked more closely, I realized that the boy was familiar to me. Not from Grandma's pictures, because I never heard a story that included any Jacob, but I recognized him. I had to hold the cup with both hands in order not to drop it on the floor due to the fright.

“Jake?!”

He turned so fast and startled that if Emma hadn't already been putting herself back in her shoes she would have flown away.

“Y/N?!” He seemed as surprised to recognize me as I was.

“Do you know each other?” asked Peregrine, frowning.

I blinked a few times to dispel the astonishment.

“Yes, we... We studied together in Florida for a few months before Grandma moved us.” I answered.

“My God, Y/N, it's you!” Jake hugged me quickly, before returning to Emma's side. “You look so different, older!”

“Well, it is 2019 on the outside, Jake, I think I aged a little bit more than you.” we laugh, including Emma.

“You must be Y/N, Eloise's granddaughter. I'm Emma, nice to meet you.” She said sympathetically, shaking my hand with a smile.

“Wait, is Eloise your grandmother? Eloise who left with my grandfather from the loop?”

I looked sideways at Emma when I heard Jacob's words, but she looked fine, smiling with Jacob's hand clasped in hers. I think there were some updates from the peculiar kids that Grandma didn't let me in on.

“So Abe is your grandfather.” I said, finally understanding why Jacob was there. “I don't think we found out before because I never saw your grandfather with you.”

“So you met him?” He frowned, confused.

I nodded. “Yes, Grandma took me a couple of times to see him, but when he was alone. He said he didn't want his grandson to know about the peculiars before he was 18. I'm really sorry for your grandfather.”

Jacob nodded, a little ruefully.

“Well, I see that you have a lot to talk about.” said Miss Peregrine. “I'll leave them then while I prepare dinner. Emma, take Y/N to her room later and lend some dress while we don't fix her wardrobe.”

“Has she met everyone?” she asked.

Miss Peregrine gave me a look that I couldn’t decipher and, by her next words, I wondered how much she knew me from the letters exchanged with Grandma.

“Y/N can meet Olive and Enoch at dinner.”

She took my cup of tea, which by now was cold, and went back into the house alone, leaving me with Emma and Jacob.

“So this means I'm now older than you?” I asked, hoping to break the silence.

And it worked, for Emma's laugh and Jacob's eyes roll.

“Only in appearance, Y/N, only in appearance.”

“Still, I'm 19 and you are 16.” I laughed with Emma when I saw Jacob's exasperated expression. “What is your peculiarity? It shouldn't be too obvious, since I didn't realize it when we were at school.”

Jacob scratched the back of his neck, a little uncomfortably.

“It's the same as my grandfather's, I can see the Hollows.”

After a few seconds of tense silence, I finally said something.

“Wow, that would have been so useful and easier than binoculars.”

“ Binoculars?” asked Emma.

I nodded. “A few years ago, Grandma, Abe and I created out of Grandma's peculiarity a type of binoculars to make visible what is invisible. So you can see the Hollows and even Millard if you want. We tried to recreate it to send another one to Miss Peregrine, but we couldn't.”

“And where is it now?” Jacob asked.

I swallowed hard and tried to respond as naturally as possible.

“With grandma. She would need it out there more than I do in here.”

Their faces became a little sad, but Emma soon changed the subject.

“And do you have the same peculiarity as Eloise? Artistic reality?”

“Yes and no.” I broke into a small smile when I saw their confused faces. “Grandma could give life to her paintings, but she was limited to canvas and paint. I just need a place to draw and a pen or pencil.”

“This is so cool, I would love for you to demonstrate!” Emma exclaimed, looking cheerful. “But dinner starts in a few minutes and we need to get you a dress.”

I think it was easy to see how I felt about dresses in my horrified expression, because Jacob started to laugh. Emma barely cared, holding my hand and leading me back to the house. Jacob came after us both, still laughing at my reluctance. But I knew there was no escape. We entered through the back door and passed the kitchen, where Peregrine was already busy with dinner. Jacob stayed behind to help her place the table in the dining room. When we returned to the foyer, I only had time to grab the strap of my backpack quickly before being pulled by Emma toward the marble stairs, covered in a dark red carpet.

After we passed the two flights of stairs, I found myself facing a half-dark corridor full of doors and a window at one end. Emma guided me to one of the doors to the left of the stairs. But I froze before following her into the room. I heard two voices coming from one of the rooms on the right side of the stairs, along with some strange noises, like scissors and clicks. I widened my eyes when I remembered that in the destroyed orphanage I saw in 2019, that room was the one with the bookcase full of broken jars. Enoch?

“Y/N?”

I turned to Emma, eyes wide and cheeks burning.

“Yes?” My voice came out squeaky and I was sure Emma noticed.

She raised her eyebrow, a little cynically, but said nothing. She just entered the room again, and this time, I followed.

“This is my room.” She said, going to the old wardrobe. Well, old for me. “Your room will be at the end of the hall, I'll take you there to change. But first, let's find a dress for you.”

I mumbled a little "okay" to her and watched as she went through her things. Emma took a small look at my shoes and pulled out a simple light blue dress, cut similar to the baby pink she was wearing, from inside the wardrobe.

“I think this dress here will look better on you with your... modern shoes.”

I giggled at her hesitation, but accepted the dress. Emma smiled and led me back into the hall. We passed the stairs and through the room that I had heard the voices before. We stopped in front of a room two doors down from that. After she said it would be my room from now on, she left me alone to change and get down in ten minutes. I looked around me. A simple single bed, an old wardrobe, a medium size mirror hanging next to the door and a simple table with a chair and a lamp under the window that faced the orphanage and the vegetable garden. The room was simple, but it looked cozy and I smiled. That would be my room for the next few decades and I wish I could make it my own corner. I left my backpack by the bed, knowing I could unpack later. I didn't bring much more than clothes and personal items in it, I knew that no electronic device would work there. Although I brought at least my cell phone and my polaroid camera. I knew I could design some kind of adapter for the plug and more paper for the photos.

I changed my clothes quickly, leaving my shirt and jeans folded on the bed. When I put on the dress, a little reluctantly, I went to the mirror. I was surprised to find that I was beautiful with it, despite some discomfort when using it. And Emma was right, it didn't look so bad with my black all star. I didn't want to be too late, so I just fixed my short curls and left the room towards the stairs. When I got to the hall, I realized that I had no idea where the dining room was. I heard the chirping voices of the children and followed one of the doors on the sides of the hall. The dining room was well lit and decorated. There was a large table in the middle, full of food and where everyone was already seated, except Miss Peregrine, who was standing at one end. There was an empty seat on his right side and soon after Emma, Jake, Bronwyn, Horace and Fiona, with Claire, Millard, Hugh, Olive and the twins on their other side. I looked at the other end of the table, at the boy I had been looking forward to meeting since I knew I was coming to the orphanage.

They must have heard it when I opened the door, because everyone turned to me. I smiled, a little embarrassed by the attention, but it widened when Enoch's dark eyes met mine.

“Eloise?!”

My smile closed slightly when he stood up abruptly, looking at me with a kind of horrified expression. I knew I wouldn't have a very good reception from him, but I think I was still hopeful that it would be different.

“Now, Enoch, of course not! It's Y/N!” exclaimed Millard, looking delighted that I joined them.

“Of course, you and Olive haven't been introduced to her yet.” said Miss Peregrine, holding out her arm for me to approach. “This is Y/N, Eloise's granddaughter. We've talked about it, kids, Y/N will be joining the orphanage from now on.”

I smiled when I realized that Olive and the others seemed to give me warm, welcoming smiles when I sat down next to Peregrine. But not Enoch. He was still looking at me with a dark and unreadable expression. He wasn't happy that I was there, but I couldn't figure out what else my arrival was doing to him. I didn't have much time to find out, as he soon turned and ran out of the dining room, with the children screaming for him.

“Okay, kids, we can have dinner today without him.” said Miss Peregrine.

Some children looked surprised. I don't think it was very common to have a meal with someone missing. But it seemed that everyone knew the reason behind it, from the effort they made to not mention it during the entire dinner. Other than that, however, the dinner was very lively. I avoided saying anything unless a question was addressed directly to me. Which means that I talked almost all the time that I wasn't chewing. Where were you born? How's Eloise? Why did you come? What do you think about meeting your grandmother's friends? Where have you two travelled before? Is it true that you already knew Jake?

It wasn’t so uncomfortable to answer the questions. Everyone there already seemed to know about Grandma's situation and why I would come here at some point. So even with the heaviest responses, the mood was not tense. When everyone was done, a phone rang in the background and everyone fell silent. I was a little confused, since I didn't remember Grandma talking about a phone call they received that September 3, 1943 in whatever story she told.

“Well, we will have to answer it.” said Miss Peregrine. “Emma, why don't you go ahead and answer it? Children, go with her and soon I will go. Y/N, wait a minute, please.”

As everyone went out into the hall, Peregrine took the empty plate that was in Enoch's place and began to fill it with the leftover food in the middle of the table, while I waited standing beside the chair. When she looked satisfied, she wrapped the cutlery in a napkin and placed it in my hands along with the plate.

“Can you take this to Enoch, dear?” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes that I dare say is a little suspicious. “His room is the first door to the right of the stairs.”

Of course it was.

“Are you sure it isn’t better for you to take it?” I asked in a low voice, a little afraid. “I don't think he'll want to see me.”

“He needs to get used to you sometime, Y/N.” She stated in a sweet voice. “Now go and come down again before reset.”

I nodded and headed for the hall. I could hear the children's tumult in the hallway leading to the kitchen, but I ignored them and went up the stairs, trying to prepare my heart to face the boy who had stolen my attention in all the stories Grandma told. I took a deep breath when I stopped in front of the door indicated by Miss Peregrine. I was nervous and afraid to drop the plate from my shaking hands. I knocked on the door and waited, but got no answer.

“Enoch?” this time I called when I knocked again.” Enoch, I brought your dinner.”

When I didn't get an answer again, I decided to test the knob. The door opened and I went inside. The room was as I imagined it from Grandma's descriptions and from what I could see from the wreckage of the orphanage in 2019. It had another door facing the entrance and a lamp in the middle of two large shelves full of pots. Some empty and others with dark water and shapes inside. I didn't need to look any closer to know that they were animal hearts. On the other side of the bookcase was the room itself. The single bed beside the door and a table directly in front of it, full of the most diverse objects, tools and doll parts. On the other side of the table was a large window with a closed blue partition. On one side of it was a sink and a half-dirty mirror and, on the other, a hammock hanging from the beam with more pieces of dolls. Despite the big window and the lamps and lamps scattered throughout the room, the atmosphere was still dark and impression of being somewhat morbid.

Enoch was facing the window, one hand in his pants pocket and the other arm resting on the frame. His expression was somber and, although he seems to be too absorbed in watching the sun almost set outside, I knew he was aware of my presence by his tense posture. I took a deep breath, preparing to formally introduce myself and leave him his food, but he spoke before I could open my mouth.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low and anguished and at no time did he turn towards me.

“Miss Peregrine asked me to bring you dinner.”

“I didn't mean up here, I meant what you are doing here in the loop.” He turned abruptly, with clenched fists. His gaze met mine and I had to control myself not to back down. I came knowing that my presence would bring painful memories to him and that he would be rude to me, but I didn't imagine that I would see so much hatred and contempt in his eyes. “If you are to leave just like Eloise did, you can go now. We don't need you here.”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep the pieces of my heart from becoming tears. I knew it would happen, I was prepared - it was what I kept repeating in my mind. Even so, it still hurt.

“I came to stay.” I replied and realized when he gasped with my firm tone and not intimidated. I left the plate and cutlery on the table, in a part free of dolls and tools. “I know that my presence is not pleasant at this moment, Enoch, but I am not leaving. I don't have the desire that she had to know the world outside because I already knew him. Since I was a child and heard stories about this place, I knew that this was where I would come when Grandma couldn't take care of me anymore. I imagine that like the others you must also know her situation. She was everything I had out there, so I have no reason to leave.

He opened his mouth to say something and I just raised my hand so he wouldn't interrupt me.

“No matter how much you want me to leave, I won’t. I came to 1943 to stay. You may have been the person I most wanted to meet. Yes, I know about your story and how much she hurt you, but she told me the amazing person you could be when you’re not in a bad mood around the corner and she always said that one of the biggest regrets in her life was leaving it. Before crossing the ocean, she asked me to take good care of you, because she knew you could be someone special to me and I intend to keep that promise, whether you want to or not. So you can treat me as badly as you want, I will not give up and I will not leave!”

I turned abruptly and left, without looking at him one last time. I was surprised at myself, for having said more than I intended, but at least I felt a weight coming out of my chest. And I wasn’t lying. Grandma said that one of her biggest regrets was having left him to go live in the world outside, but that at least it had led her to have mother and me. And the promise was real. I would take care of him in one way or another and I did intend to get him out of that armour.

“Oh, Y/N.” Peregrine looked at me with a warm and pitiful expression when I went down the stairs and that's when I realized that some tears were streaming down my cheek. I dried them quickly, hoping that it wouldn't be too apparent when I joined the other kids. “He just needs time, my dear, you just need to be patient.”

I swallowed hard when I realized that Grandma had talked more about me than I felt comfortable with. How embarrassing is your new headmistress to know about you liking the same boy your grandmother was romantically involved with? Is this just because of the stories told by the mentioned grandmother? I could almost feel my face exploding with shame.

“C'mon C'mon.” she rushed me, putting a gas mask in my hands and guiding me to the patio. “It's almost time to reset.”

I noticed that the children were all outside in the rain, with their masks on their faces and behind a small wooden table, where they had a gramophone and an open umbrella. Miss Peregrine hurried to put a clock on the table and turn on the gramophone. Typical '40s music started playing and I smiled as I put on the mask and joined the kids. It was a little nostalgic to hear it, as I always listened to it with Grandma. Olive, who was at my side, put her thick-gloved hand around me in a brief hug.

That's when I saw the flashes between the clouds. They looked like thunder, but they were orange. The first plane flew over the orphanage and I gasped, shocked to see a German plane live, even after I had prepared for it. It seemed too unbelievable that I was there, in the middle of World War II. Two more planes flew overhead and Miss Peregrine looked again at the pocket watch in her hand. Eight more planes passed over the house. A final plane flew over, and when it was near the orphanage, it opened the cargo hold and a bomb fell. I could see the swastika painted in white from my place on the floor. I winced. Not just because of the cold rain that ran down my clothes or because I knew what would happen if Miss Peregrine didn't return the last 24 hours - because I knew she would do it precisely. But because I knew everything that that symbol painted on the bomb meant. These kids living in a loop unaware of what happens in the future seem like a gift that Jacob and I wouldn’t share. Our knowledge of history seems to be a burden.

Seconds before the bomb hit the house, time stopped. The bomb stopped and so did the rain droplets. I saw Miss Peregrine turning the clock and everything moved in reverse. The bomb returned to the cargo compartment of the plane, which flew backwards in the sky, as did the other planes that had already passed and now returned. The raindrops returned to the sky, as did those that had already fallen. Time came back and it was day again. He came back more and it was night, but not like the one I had seen seconds before. It was a clear night with a starry sky. The clock read 2 September 1943.

I took a deep breath and sighed when I took off the mask. I was impacted by the reset. Despite everything Grandma had said and as she described it, seeing it in person was another experience. I was here, finally. My dream came true and I was here, in Cairnholm, Wales, living in Miss Peregrine's orphanage with other peculiar children, just like me. I would live my life frozen at the age of 19 and reliving September 3, 1943 every day.

And I couldn't be happier, despite all the circumstances that have brought me here.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Claire's voice took me out of my thoughts. She was already pulling me by the hand towards the house and the others laughed a little behind us. “Today I want Y/N to tell me a story!”

I laughed too. “But of course, princess. You just don't have to rip my arm off.”

The others continued to laugh and I smiled.

Before Claire pulled me through the door, however, I looked up. In one of the windows on the second floor I could see a figure watching us. Despite knowing that Enoch probably had a closed expression when he watched me, I put the mask under my arm and used my free hand to wave at him. I made sure to keep my smile on my face.

~*~

The months went by and when I realized it had been a year since I arrived. I was able to adapt easily to the life in the loop. Everyone there was very receptive to me - well, almost everyone - and the daily tasks weren’t so difficult, since they were distributed among all thirteen children. Many times when I stayed to prepare breakfast or lunch, Enoch was responsible for helping me. And I was sure I had been Miss Peregrine's idea. She seemed to want to help me interact with him. Not that it helps much, since he doesn't speak to me more than strictly necessary. But at least it was progress from the first many months, when he was just rude all the time. Olive also tried to help. She was closest to Enoch and, after a girl’s night in my room with her and Emma - when they not only tried on my 21st century clothes with a lot of laughter but also forced some secrets out of me - Olive tried to make him open up a little and not just plainly ignore me. Still, I treated him as I treated everyone: with a smile on my face and always willing to approach.

I became part of the routine there. Between the letters I exchanged with Grandma and the daily chores, I quickly became friends with everyone. Most of the morning I spent with Bronwyn, Claire and the twins, whether playing with dolls or playing tag. During the afternoon I played football with the boys or chess with Emma or Jacob. At least once a week I would join Emma and Olive for a girl’s night. When I didn't feel very well, either because I missed Grandma or because Enoch was extremely rude to me, I would sit in the library and spend all day there reading. Horace used to join me these days. Sometimes he managed to get some conversation going, sometimes we just kept each other company while we read. It was comforting.

When I first took my camera out of my room, everyone was curious. Miss Peregrine had a strict rule about talking about the future or having things from the future, but I think that since Jacob arrived three years before me, she didn't care so much about a few slips. Especially if it wasn't something that could cause too much impact. Even Enoch seemed interested, even though he tried not to show it in front of me. I made sure to take pictures of everyone and leave a copy for each peculiar. I even taught Emma how to use the camera and she loved taking it with her when she was out walking with Jake.

As for my peculiarity, I never practiced it as much as there in that loop. The younger children were always asking me to make them a new doll or toy for them, Hugh always asked me for a new ball when the old one burst and I managed to avoid some trips outside the loop by doing some things that Miss Peregrine needed. I always carried a pen I had in 2019 in my dress pocket. It was easier to be prepared, since there was always someone asking for something. And I didn't complain, it was always good to be able to see the smile on their faces afterwards and to be able to practice. Each new order was a new challenge. I had even started a new project to make binoculars that allow Miss Peregrine to see invisible things. It still hadn't had the same effect as I did with Grandma and Abe, but I was on the way.

Enoch, however, had never asked me for anything. Not that it stopped me from taking my pen and using several pieces of paper to draw hearts of all sizes. At least once a week I filled pots with hearts and left them in front of his room. At first he seemed upset by this and even told me to stop, but of course I ignored him - especially after I heard him saying to Miss Peregrine that their efficiency was equal to that of animal hearts. One of the times that I left the pots for him, I hid behind my bedroom door and waited for Enoch to leave his room. I could have sworn I saw a small smile on his lips before he slammed the door.

I was happy that Enoch seemed to open up to the other kids at least. A few weeks ago, after talking to Bronwyn about Victor on a day that she was particularly sad, I left the house looking for Claire, as I knew that maybe she was a little disoriented without her usual company. When I approached a tree furthest from the garden, I was surprised to find Enoch sitting in the shadows with Claire, giving life to several dolls in order to distract her. I stayed away, watching as he made her laugh with a small smile on his lips. I turned around and joined Bronwyn in her room again, my heart warming from the scene I witnessed, but not wanting to disturb them.

But even after the progress I made with Enoch, perhaps today it was the trigger for everything to go down. My emotions have never been so close to exploding.

Tonight was a movie night. Horace had announced that morning that he had dreamed of more than just clothes and Miss Peregrine decided that we would see after dinner. Everyone spent all day anxious, as it’s been many days since Horace hadn’t dreamed of anything interesting to be shown. Several times throughout the day I caught him looking at me like he was having an inside joke that I didn't understand. When everyone had finished dinner, we spread out in the living room. Claire sat on my lap, like almost every time we watched Horace's dreams, and I started braiding her hair, being careful to keep my fingers out of her backmouth. The twins sat on the floor, leaning against my legs, and Bronwyn sat down with Enoch on the couch directly across from us.

“Everyone ready, dears?” asked Miss Peregrine when she arrived in the room after taking the call.

“Horace said he had a very interesting dream! What do you think is it about?” Claire asked me, looking excited.

“We’ll find out soon enough, princess.” I replied, finishing braiding the blond hair.

When Miss Peregrine turned off the lights and Horace projected the images on the wall, I almost immediately regretted being there in that room. The first image was a girl with short curls and a tear-stained face. It was me. I couldn't see much beyond my face and my hand moving a pen over a piece of paper. I didn't seem to be doing my drawings, I was writing. I sniffed, with more tears streaming down my face, and ran my hand over my cheek to dry some of them, before leaning over the paper. Something moved behind me and it was then that I realized it was a door opening. A figure came in and the dream me turned around in fear. I felt the eyes of the other children on me and I swallowed, hoping the images would soon change. And they changed. The next image was of a beach, with calm waves. It stayed in that image for a few seconds before changing again. Horace was trying on a suit and looking at himself in the mirror.

The image changed again and I almost felt my face explode with shame. The dream showed me sitting in the shadow of a half-hidden tree, probably at the back of the orphanage courtyard. But I was not alone. Enoch was with me, his back against the tree and hugging me around the waist. I was leaning against his chest, between his legs. I had a book in my hands and read it aloud. We both laughed at something and he kissed my face several times until I turned and kissed his lips.

I just wanted a hole to open in the floor and swallow me. Some kids started giggling and Claire nudged my arm, laughing softly too. I heard a whistle from one of the boys and Jacob, who was sitting next to me, raised his eyebrow at me with a mocking smile on his lips. I gathered courage and looked up to see Enoch's reaction. I wish I hadn't done it. He didn't look at me, but he had an expression of pure disgust on his face. And it hurt more than I expected.

“I think it's fine for today, Horace, thank you.” said Miss Peregrine, turning on the lights while the others made noises of indignation. “Come on, come on, kids, it's almost time for reset.”

Everyone got up quickly. I wasn't in such a hurry, I was feeling a little dizzy with everything. When I finally got up from my seat on the sofa, the children had already gone after Miss Peregrine and only Enoch remained in the room. I avoided looking him in the eye when I passed him to leave too. But I was stopped abruptly when he grabbed my arm in an iron grip. I turned to him, confused, and the question stuck in my throat when I saw his black eyes shining with pure contempt.

“If you think that will happen, you are extremely wrong.” he said with so much venom in his tone that I almost choked on tears that were threatening to rise. “Now that Horace has shown us the dream, I will stop it.”

I didn't want to hear anymore. My emotions, which had been choking me for the past few days, seemed to bubble. I yanked my arm out of his grip and barely felt the sting that his fingers left on my skin. I practically flew out of the room and into the kitchen, ignoring the curious looks of those still in the hall. I needed to calm down. I took some water and took a sip. I took a deep breath, trying to contain the tightness in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. I stayed there for a few minutes and, when I heard the rain starting to fall, I decided that I would go to the room instead of watching the reset. All I wanted at that moment was to write a letter to grandma. She would know the right words to say to me so I wouldn't let my emotions take over my decisions and end up leaving for another loop. I finished drinking my water and left the kitchen. When I was heading for the stairs, however, I heard voices coming from the living room. It seemed to be an argument.

“… right to say that to her, Enoch!”

Emma.

“Doesn’t matter.” he said in a voice so low that I almost couldn't hear. He didn't seem as angry as he used to. He seemed almost… sad.

“Of course it matter!” Emma did look annoyed. “Y/N was nothing but kind and sweet to everyone here, especially you! You cannot treat her that way when she has given you no reason to do so.”

“You don't know that! She can decide to simply take her things and leave just like Eloise did! And what will prevent it? And what will become of me when I have to go through this pain all over again?”

“Enoch, put this in your head: Y/N is not leaving! She came here knowing that she will live here forever.”

I appreciated the fact that Emma was defending me, but I needed to act on my own. I opened the door and they both looked surprised to see me there.

“Emma is right, Enoch.” I said in a voice so calm that it surprised even myself, because I felt the complete opposite of calm. “Yes, there have been times when you treated me so badly in the last few months that I got to the point of almost taking the map I have with the loops and leaving. But do you know why I didn't and won't do it? First, because you wouldn't be the one I would leave behind. I made friends here, I made a family. I wouldn’t be able to abandon them because of you. And how many times do I need to repeat that I don't need to go back to 2019 because I have no reason to remain there besides my grandmother who is no longer able to live with me without attracting Hollows. In addition, I made a promise that I intend to keep.”

Emma tried to leave the room quietly, but I raised my hand and motioned for her not to go. My head was spinning so much that I needed her there with me in case I passed out in front of Enoch. He, in turn, just watched me while I vented everything. His shoulders fell and his eyes shone with an emotion that I didn't recognize when they strolled across my face. It was then that I felt tears streaming down my cheeks, but I didn't even bother to dry them.

“I promised grandma that I would take care of you, Enoch. And it's not just because you were an important person to her, but because, with all the stories I heard from this place, I managed to fall in love with yours. I know this is weird. To I fall in love with someone just hearing about that person? Well, it happened. And then I get here and I can only fall more in love with you. You have become an important person to me and I feel completely pathetic for being in love with someone who has treated me badly since the moment you saw me. But I made a choice, I chose to come to this loop and I will stay true to that choice. Maybe I’ll regret it in the future? I might, but I will remain here because you are here and, even if you spend the next few centuries hating me, I will spend the next few centuries here enduring it, because I am pathetic. I'm pathetically in love with you.”

I finished talking and I was almost in tears. My breathing was heavy and my vision blurred. Emma looked at me biting her lip, as if holding a smile, but Enoch looked at me with wide eyes and completely bewildered. It was then that I realised everything I said and after a few seconds paralysed, I ran out of the room. I only stopped when I was back in my room, just in time to see through the window the night turning into day and night again. The children would soon begin to return to their rooms for bed. But I couldn't sleep after everything that happened that day. I just needed Grandma there with me, to give me a hug and make her special hot chocolate.

I took a deep breath, my back still against the closed door, and tried to control my tears, but I couldn't. The memory of the dream of the two of us under the tree and the way he treated me were still stuck like iron to my eyelids. I looked at the table under the window and ran to it. I turned on the lamp and took a piece of paper from the corner. I took my pen out of my dress pocket while I sat down and started writing a letter. I just hoped the handwriting was minimally readable, since I couldn't see very well between my tears.

Hello Grandma,

How are you? How is the nursing home treating you? I hope you haven't had any problems and that no Hollow has found it. I know it hasn't been more than a week or two since the last letter I wrote to you, but I think maybe I’ve reached my emotional limit. I know what you're going to say "but Y/N, it's only been a few months!" I know, grandma, I know. But I think I let everything accumulate and I couldn't take it after today's events.

I think the progress I reported to you was not so positive. I am quite sure that Enoch hates me perhaps more than he hates you. I'm sorry if I failed the promise to take care of him. In my defence, I did and continue to do whatever I can to let him at least know that I am being truthful about my intentions here. But after today I know he will hardly want to be in the same place as me, let alone open up again and stop being so… lonely.

Tonight was a movie night, Grandma. Do you remember how delighted I was every time you told me about them? And that, the first time I saw it, I wrote a whole letter about it? I am still fascinated by how Horace manages to project his dreams, but today all I wanted was for him to have kept that dream to himself. Maybe then my heart wouldn't be so broken. Horace dreamed of us, Grandma, me and Enoch. Together. Sitting under a tree and being kind to each other. Enoch even smiled in the dream. And while my heart was filled with a warm and euphoric feeling at the sight of it, Enoch later shattered it into thousands of pieces. He made it very clear that it would never happen, as he would do his best to avoid it.

Grandma... Is there something wrong with me? You were the only one who was present with me in my whole life, my only constant, my only friend and family. So I ask you to be completely honest with me and I trust you to be. Is something wrong with me? To prevent people from getting closer, to prevent me from being happy in the only place I have felt at home in my entire life? Is it my fault that I am unable to find the peace I have always sought here?

I feel so small, Grandma, so small and pathetic. Maybe it's my fault for not being able to be happy here. While everyone is so warm and welcoming to me... I feel like I blew it with Enoch, who was the biggest reason I chose 1943 in Cairnholm to stay. I told him, Grandma. I know you said that I should have told him before and in a way that I wouldn't scare him, but I practically screamed at his face that I was in love with him. I never felt so stupid and never really wanted so badly to go back in time and avoid my mistake. He will never want to look at me again...

I should have kept that secret with me forever. And it was the first time that I felt that maybe it was a mistake to come to this loop. What if he was better before I arrived? I don't think we ever got to talk about that possibility, but I admit that it just crossed my mind today. What if he was already better and I just made it worse? Should I go? Should I ask him if he wants me out? I'm sorry, Grandma, but I think I would have to break our promise and go. My heart sinks at the thought of leaving the others, but I would do anything to make Enoch happy.

I had to stop writing the letter for a moment when more tears started to flow. I ran my hand over my cheek in a futile attempt to dry them and leaned over the paper again, trying to organize my confused thoughts into coherent sentences. But I didn't get to write, because the sound of the door opening caught my attention. I turned around scared, because I didn't expect anyone to come here after the curfew. I widened my eyes even more when I realized it was Enoch at the door and stood up, surprised.

“Enoch?!”

Enoch said nothing as he closed the door behind him. I rested my hands on the table behind me, embarrassed and nervous. When Enoch took the necessary steps to approach me, I had to support myself with my hands and waist on the table, as my legs no longer supported me. When his scent - a mixture of earth, soap and formaldehyde - hit me hard, I looked up and looked at his face. I was even more surprised when I saw anguish and sadness in his dark eyes. He raised a callused hand to my face, but hesitated only for a second when I tensed. I gasped and closed my eyes when his fingers touched my cheeks and dried my tears.

“Y/N...” Enoch said, his voice low and choppy. “I'm so sorry.”

I opened my eyes wide. An apology from him was the last thing I expected.

“I didn't want you to feel that way. Okay, I wanted to, but not for the reasons you think.” He added when he saw my raised eyebrow. He wiped away more tears that had just fallen and continued to hold my face in his hands. “I don't hate you, Y/N. At least not anymore. I wanted to hate you, I wanted you to hate me, but I can't. Even when I was rude to you, even when all I did was give you reasons to be rude to me too. But I feel different with you, when you open that smile even when I do my best to ignore you. When you put hearts on my door, when you share all your free time with others, giving them your attention and never complaining.”

My breathing became heavier as I began to understand the words he spoke as a small smile opened on his lips. His eyes shone a little brighter with each sentence and his gaze roamed my face with an emotion that I couldn't identify. When he spoke the next sentence, however, I felt like I could pass out right there.

“I fell in love with you, Y/N, and I'm sorry for everything I did with you. I just didn't want to get hurt again.”

I couldn't formulate any sentences. I felt like my brain had stopped working properly. I could only look at Enoch's face, opening and closing my mouth, trying to say something but without succeeding. After a few minutes of looking at us, Enoch's expression fell and he started to walk away from me. That's when I started to panic because I needed to give him an answer. I grabbed his wrist before he could walk to the door and put my other hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. Our lips touched and I felt like my heart was going to explode when he didn't pull away. I felt his arms wrap around my waist and my entire body relaxed against his. His kiss was magical and I couldn't concentrate on anything other than Enoch - his scent, his arms around me, his chest against mine, his curls wrapped around my fingers, his lips forming a smile against mine.

We broke the kiss, but we didn't move away. I felt my cheeks burning when I saw his eyes watching me with a fondness I wasn’t used to. I hid my face against his shoulder, embarrassed, and he hugged me against his chest. The feeling of being in his arms was wonderful.

“Y/N?” he called and I leaned away minimally. I followed his gaze to where I had left the letter I wrote to Grandma and hurried to hide the letter behind my body. Enoch looked up at my face with a determined expression. “Y/N, I don't want you to leave. Please don’t leave me.”

The pain in your voice broke my heart.

“I won’t.” I guaranteed, placing my hand on his face and caressing his cheek. He leaned closer to my touch, seeming to relax. “I won’t leave. This is my home now. With Miss Peregrine, with the children and with you.”

Enoch took me by surprise when he kissed me again when I had barely finished my sentence. His kiss this time was stronger, more passionate. He pulled me even closer and I felt immersed in his perfume and his touch. One kiss became two, three, four and neither of us wanted to let the other go. Enoch lifted me up and my feet left the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep from falling and he held my thighs. His touch on my skin, his hair under my fingers, his lips against mine. I could only think of that moment, right now and how happy I was. Enoch guided us to my bed and leaned over me when my back touched the mattress. He looked into my eyes, searching for confirmation, and I pulled him to kiss him again.

I don't need to say what happened that night.

~*~

The next day I woke up with something soft against my cheeks. Despite the sleep, I managed to open my eyes and see the smile that Enoch was giving me. It was such a rare smile that I couldn't help but smile as well. Enoch leaned over again and placed a kiss on my lips. When he pulled away, I couldn't help but try to go after him to prolong our kiss. He laughed.

“I need to go back to my room, Y/N.” He said and I frowned. “Miss Peregrine will wake up in a few minutes and it won't be good if she finds me here and in the situation we are in.”

Last night's memories flooded my mind and I realised I was out of my pyjamas under the covers while he was already dressed again. I blushed, but I couldn't help smiling.

“Yeah, I don't think it would be a good idea.” That was all I managed to answer, still feeling the euphoria of happiness in my chest.

Enoch laughed again and placed another kiss on my lips, this time taking longer.

“Get changed and go downstairs, I'll meet you at breakfast. After that I want to take you on a walk.”

“Alright.”

He pulled away to leave, but I grabbed his arm and kissed him again, a little resistant to let him go. He smiled against my lips and dodged my arms. I laughed when he winked at me before closing the door. I laid down again and sighed. The smile didn't leave my lips and I started to doubt that it would fade at some point. I just wanted to stay in that bed, going over the memories. But following the logic that the faster I got up, the faster I would meet him, I got out of bed and put on one of the dresses Horace had made for me.

Before leaving, however, I decided that I would finish the letter I wrote to Grandma. Maybe I would even write another one. When I sat down at the table, however, I noticed something interesting. The letter was already finished, in a letter that wasn’t mine.

Dear Eloise,

I heard about your situation and I hope you are well as far as possible. I know that I cannot erase the past as I so often found myself imagining. I also know that the hole you left in my chest when you left may never close properly again. But I found someone who makes me ignore it and makes me concentrate on the happy moments here in the loop instead of drowning in sad memories. For a long time I hated you for the way you broke my heart when I left, but I won't be sinking into that feeling anymore, because if you hadn't left, if you hadn't left me, I wouldn't have known the reason for my smile. If you hadn't gone, I never would have met Y/N.

I don't say that as if the time we both spent together was in vain, as if nothing had meant anything to me. But looking at Y/N now, sleeping in her bed with such a serene expression on her face, as I complete her letter, I realise that maybe I was wrong about the intensity of the love I felt back then. Y/N makes me happy, truly happy. She makes me light and euphoric, as if there is nothing in the world to worry about while she is beside me. I know I made her suffer during the year that she was here and seeing how she didn't give up for a moment made me fall in love with her even more. And it also made me realise that I couldn’t deprive myself (or even deprive her) of that happiness just because of my fear that she would also leave me.

So I end this letter (heartbroken after reading the first half) by making you a promise just as she had done: I promise that I will take care of Y/N. I promise that I will spend the rest of our lives making up for the pain I caused her in her first few months here. I love her and all I want is for her to be happy here, beside me.

Thank you for having a wonderful granddaughter and I thank you most of all for the opportunity to have her in my life.

Affectionately,

Enoch O'Connor

I couldn't help the lonely tear that ran down my face when I read the letter, just as I couldn't help my lips parting in a smile. I felt like I was falling in love again and even more when reading Enoch's words. I folded the paper and placed it in an envelope that was next to the lamp. I checked that I was properly dressed and left the room with the envelope in hand. I would like to ask Miss Peregrine to send it as soon as possible.

During breakfast the children looked confused and skeptical with the looks that Enoch and I exchanged, while Miss Peregrine had a small smirk on her lips and Emma was barely trying to hide her smug expression. I didn’t care. I was too anxious to take the walk with Enoch and to spend the next few centuries with him.

Needless to say, Horace's vision of the two of us in the shadow of the tree happened just a few weeks later, right?

1K notes · View notes

idga-buck · 4 years ago

Text

Some and Others, 1/?

Bucky wasn’t looking for a relationship, he was looking for a good night’s sleep, but when he found you he got more than he bargained for.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 5,758

Content: swearing, soft smut (18+ only), Bucky being clueless, IW and EG just didn’t happen? idk, everyone’s alive and living in the compound #classic, also me fitting in a bunch of information that probably wasn’t necessary for the first chapter but what’s a story without a sturdy foundation?

After a mission, Bucky is some kind of way. Steve is too careful with him, but he doesn’t exactly blame the captain. Plus as an uncommissioned officer, 70 years without promotion, who is he to disagree. Maybe he isn’t ready for a life of avenging. Certainly isn’t ready for the questions that will follow another sleepless night, so Bucky didn’t stay in. He went out.

His memory wasn’t what it used to be, but Bucky recognized your street the second he’d stepped onto it. He’d parked his bike in the grassy alley on his right, gotten coffee at the Caribbean supermarket across the street when he finally left that afternoon. Technology wasn’t his strong suit, despite his depth of interest in it. There was etiquette and a way to do things that were as nuanced as they were mysterious. Bucky often wondered if people just lived by their own set of rules, leaving everyone else in the dark and only interacting with the persistent few who engaged correctly. He didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. Shuri reminded him of that more than he cared for, but in terms of debts owed, he could smile through her jokes for a lifetime after the second chance she’d given him.

Bucky Barnes was a ladies man… at some point in his life, but more accurately, his life had been colored with women stronger than him since the day he was born. His mother was the first to hold him, followed shortly after by the older sister who tried to sell him to the milkman. Luckily Mr. Spenser wasn't in the market for a throw away babe and Bucky got to grow up in a house dominated by women. His sister, his mother, his grandmother with the accent that was just gibberish outside of their living room, the two more sisters that were welcomed in after him, though he’d never dream of bartering them away for bubble gum. They were all loud, but kind and could always bring a smile to his face. Even still. Rebecca, the most distant in age, but the closest in spirit, was still living. His baby sister was all grown up to the point of growing back down, shrinking in on herself the way old women do. Bucky made regular trips to the Alzheimer’s care center, sitting with her and loving her as only a brother could. Though her recollection of recent history was gone, Rebecca Barnes could still pinpoint the exact moment that all her girlfriends fell in love with her brother, which made Bucky shake his head and laugh. Her CNAs were worried for her mind when Rebecca introduced them to her big brother, looking closer to a man in his 30s than a man from the 30s, but he assured them that she was correct. He hadn’t changed a bit, she told him with two wrinkled hands on his cheeks. In appearance, not as much as he should have, but in all the other ways people usually mean, Bucky couldn’t feel more disconnected from the man he was when Rebecca was all bright eyes and secret kisses under the corner store awning. Bucky had no problem leveling those boys with a stare back then, but now most of them wouldn’t think twice before using their canes as a switch across his shins just for cocking an eyebrow in their direction. Talking to his mother wasn’t possible anymore and his sister wasn’t in a state to give out girl advice. Shuri was on another continent. Natasha… was Natasha and he would never ask for her help with something like this. Wanda was usually awake late at night when he was, but she was still so young.

Bucky looked up from the street, noting your second floor windows were dimly lit. Golden squares stood out against the bricks, blackened by the late hour, and through the gauzy curtains he spotted movement. Without his mother to advise against it or Shuri to give him something better to do, Bucky reached for his phone and scrolled through the recent calls. You’d called yourself before he left, but thinking that he wouldn’t see you again, Bucky hadn’t actually saved the number. Something of a bad habit, he noted, scrolling through lines and lines of unrecognized and unsaved phone numbers, hoping he’d just know it when he saw it. He didn’t.

Until one appeared on its own, presenting him a choice. Answer or reject. A simple question with unknown consequences. Rejecting the call seemed safer, so Bucky pressed the red circle and resumed his search.

“Weren’t you a spy or something?” Your voice drew Bucky’s eyes up from his phone screen to the now open window above his head. You were leaning out a bit, the posture helping your voice to carry over the surprisingly still busy street.

“Somethin’,” he grinned, pocketing the useless device. Both hands secured in his jacket, Bucky tipped back on his heels to get a better look at you. “Gonna invite me up?”

You shrugged and planted your palms against the window sill to lift yourself up. Even from that angle, Bucky was transfixed by your cleavage. Subtle under the tank top you wore, but he remembered it fondly. As if you could hear his thoughts, your arms snapped closed over your chest, bringing the colorful wings of a kimono with them, shielding yourself with floral patterns and defensive body language that made him take a step backwards. “You didn’t call…” you said and though accurate, your accusation made Bucky regret what he was about to do. After waking from the best night’s sleep of his life, he said he’d call you. No amount of self love could bring that much refreshment into his life and the feeling of waking up after a deep and dreamless sleep was enticing enough. The sex was good for a one off sort of thing, Bucky would even say great, but the sleep that came after… he hadn’t been able to replicate it yet. The lure of a good night's sleep and the softness of your body against all of his rough edges were too strong to stop him now. He was committed to this indiscretion, but before he could defend himself, you’d moved on, already smiling again. “And you just ignored my call.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and lifted in quick succession before he pulled the phone from his pocket again. Saved. And for good measure, he pulled it up to his ear again. You frowned, turning away from the window, presumably to look for your phone. The glass slid shut behind you and Bucky bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for the metallic purr in his ear to be replaced by something even better.

“What are you doing?” You said over the line.

“Hey, it’s Bucky-“ he heard you stifle your own laughter with a choked ‘oh my god’ in the background. “Remember me?” You hummed and Bucky waited with his eyes on your window. When you didn’t return, he kept talking. “I know it’s late, but I was just in the neighborhood-“ another quiet giggle made him smile as he spoke. “You up?”

“Is this Bucky Barnes’ first booty call?” You asked.

“I guess it is…” he said, half his mouth curving up even though you couldn’t see it. “How’m I doin’ so far?” There was a pause and Bucky started moving toward your door on instinct. It was illogical to think something had happened in those few seconds, but after the day he’d had Bucky didn’t feel confident ruling it out. “Making me nervous out here, doll.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him and Bucky leaned back against the door in relief. “I was about to go to bed… but since you came all this way-“ the end of your sentence was cut off by the loud buzzing in his ear as the lock on the door disengaged from above. Bucky stepped into the first hall, street lamp making the small row of Golden mailbox fronts glitter, and leisurely took the first few steps up. “Better hurry,” you sighed and Bucky stopped, foot hovering over the next step. “Door’s unlocked and I’m already naked.” Bucky was in your apartment and snapping all three locks into their closed position before you’d had the chance to hang up from his impromptu phone call.

You fucked him slowly that night. The rush he felt taking your stairs two at a time dissipated once he was in your bedroom. It wasn’t as frantic or fumbling as it had been the first time and Bucky was happy for the change. When he’d followed you home from the bar, it seemed that both of you had an understanding. One night only, so make it count. It was hard and fast, but so so good. Even the next morning’s repeat and the finale in your shower before he finally pulled away sated had been more like back to back sprints than whatever this gentle marathon was. As if you could feel the stress that Bucky needed to let go of, you moved carefully around him. Totally bare in the bluish glow of the bathroom plug in that lit the scene before him, you took your time undressing Bucky and placing his hands back at his sides whenever he tried to help move things along. When you dropped to your knees, leaving him open and vulnerable standing naked in the middle of your bedroom, he made a sort of wounded noise that made him want to bolt, but didn’t seem to bother you. If anything it spurred you on, drawing more whispers from his rosebud lips until he couldn’t take it anymore. For the first time in his life, Bucky begged for more attention. Not the teasing he did on street corners- come on, baby, you’re breaking my heart here- when a dame tried extra hard to resist his charm. This was real pleading as if he thought he’d die frozen in place without your heat to revive him.

He’d made the right choice. Bucky decided while lying across your bed, one hand twisted up in your pillow case while the other was splayed across your bare thigh, that he’d done the right thing coming to you for this. He could have gone back to that bar or a different one and gone home with another girl just like he had with you, but then he’d be missing the view from under you. Having a new girl everytime Bucky found himself feeling restless sounded exhausting. He’d also determined that his mother would be incredibly disappointed in him if he had rows and rows of unsaved phone numbers from girls that didn’t know they were being used. Finally and maybe most importantly in that moment, Bucky didn’t want to start over with someone brand new. He liked your crumpled linen sheets, liked the smell of ink from the printing studio beneath your apartment. While you rode him to mutual satisfaction, he liked the way your hips rolled sensually over his, liked the slick grind and the dull bite of your nails against his stomach. He liked that after your first, when he asked you to slow down again and extended his hands to you, you took each of them without hesitation. Supporting your weight on outstretched arms, Bucky got to enjoy your hands in his while you gasped out a second. If it had been your first time sleeping together, you’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to admit that you were tired. He wouldn’t have gotten to hear that whine when you asked if he was close and he replied -smugly- not at all. If it had been your first time together, he’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to ask you how you wanted him. He wouldn’t know how sweet it felt to have your back pressed up against his chest and he wouldn’t have known to turn you onto your side so he could slip in from behind you. Bucky was so comfortable in your bed with your knee hitched up over his hip, body totally open to his roaming hands. He made the right choice coming back to you and as he finished with a grunt, both arms wrapped around you tight while your arm was bent over his head, gripping his hair with the perfect amount of tension, he’d already decided to make it again.

The next morning, Bucky was refreshed, feeling like a brand new man. That was the feeling he’d been chasing last night or rather very early that morning, but the tightening in his lower body followed by ultimate release was a fine way to get there. Just like last time, he’d woken up alone only to find you in the bathroom, washing sleep from your eyes and fixing your face. His enhanced hearing meant he could listen to the tap running and the echoing “puh” of you spitting into the sink without having to open his eyes. Comfortable and naked against your pillows letting the familiar sounds tell the story of your morning routine. He didn’t mind waiting as long as you crawled back in beside him like last time. Bucky only peeked twice before he heard the zipper of your makeup bag close and the magnet on your medicine cabinet snap shut behind the mirror. You were back with him in a moment and he turned toward your scent, aloe fresh deodorant and sharp minty breath beckoned him closer and he hummed against your lips. If he cared to move, he’d swallow down the remainder of your mouthwash then swap cool kisses until his tongue tingled against yours, but he was so comfortable. Even more so once you’d laid across his chest, bumping your nose and chin against his until he opened his eyes. Bucky dropped his arms heavily across your back, keeping you planted against him, though you hadn’t struggled or made any moves to leave him. He couldn’t have that with someone new. If he swapped your number for someone else’s, he’d have to flirt and wade through the post sex awkwardness again. He’d have to go out more and hope his charm would work on another. He’d have to perform for them the way he had for you the first two times. The third, in your shower, was messy and wet and fun despite the soap in his eyes, which you wiped away for him while his hands were occupied by holding you up. He wouldn’t have that with someone new until he made it happen and frankly he didn’t want to make it happen. Not yet. Not when you were still cute and still into him and still happy to hear from him even at 2 in the morning when he looked like a creep under your window. Why trade all that just to say he could have another then another? Sex was good. That morning stuff was good too. If it was the orgasm that made him feel alive again, then the warmth of your bed and your lips drifting lazily down his chest was what made life worth living. One gal was enough for him. You were enough.

Bucky hadn’t even noticed that he was drifting off again until you spoke. He didn’t hear you, but he sure it didn’t matter and responded with some ta sentiment of his own. “Thanks. For this.”

“Thank you,” you corrected and he smirked at that, eyes still blissfully closed. “Hey, uh— Bucky…” You sounded nervous and he had to force his eyes open at the sound of your voice shaking around his name. You must have noticed his sudden concern and placed a hand soothingly over his chest. “I just…” you bit your lip and Bucky watched the wheels churn behind downturned eyes. It was sweet, the way you could flip from bold and sexy to this. An errant curl fell out of its place and he felt the desire to pull that twisty rebel between two fingers before moving it back to follow the part you’d intended all the up to his second knuckle. Your hair was the kind he wanted to touch over and over. Not because it was your hair per se, but rather because it didn't have that acrid home perm smell or a hundred little pins holding it in place like his sisters and the other girls he ran around with. They spent hours on their waves and rolls, but you flipped a fist full to one side, fluffing it with your fingers when you wanted his attention and damn if it didn’t work everytime. Before he knew it, a vibranium finger against your temple, following the curve of your ear. Your stunned look made Bucky chuckle. He even patted your cheek in encouragement. After a beat, you were gathered again. Another breath and you spoke. “I just wanted to say, I don’t really do this sort of thing.” His eyebrow shot up at that and you scrambled to correct yourself. “Not this,” you half laughed then gestured to his naked body and yours, hardly clothed. “The bringing strangers home from bars thing. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you again- not that I didn’t love it- I just didn’t want you to think-“

“I think you’re amazing,” he said quickly to assure you he didn’t think anything else. He wouldn’t either. Couldn’t even imagine anything else after making an ass of himself at your first meeting. He’s felt so out of place and vulnerable and ridiculous trying to take you home the night you’d met, but you hadn’t made him feel wrong or silly for it. For that alone he was grateful. For the sex that followed, even more so. You’d met him with just enough teasing to keep him engaged, but not so much that he felt like he was an unwanted addition to your night and whenever his eyes drifted away like he wanted to run and forget the whole stupid idea, you gently guided him back, eyes and words making it clear that you wanted him too. It was a mutual feeling of desire, as simple as it was complicated. Bucky wanted to keep it simple though, if for no other reason than to keep seeing your awkward smile duck into his neck at the eagerness in his voice. He touched your face again and repeated himself. “I don’t think anything… just that I’m glad I met you… and I’d like to keep seeing you.”

You smiled at him and whatever silliness he felt in his confession evaporated. It was the right thing to say. You sighed and leaned in again like you were going to kiss him, before stopping short and looking up at him through your lashes. “I don’t think I can say no to you.”

“Then don’t,” he said, but it felt like begging again as he hoisted you higher up on his chest to kiss you again. The conversation was over and if you weren’t going to say no to him, then he wanted to start his morning with as many breathy yeses as he could get.

Random serendipitous encounters became less random and serendipitous with every passing week. Bucky was feeling lighter, yet somehow more whole. Boy, did he need that. A woman’s lovin’ will do that for you. He vaguely recalls one soldier or another making similar remarks while he was in Italy. Bucky’s blue eyes belonged to the nurses back then, as his own innocence slowly died with each body dropped by his own marksmanship. This new world, new century he now had to navigate was so different. His enemies weren’t always flesh and blood, even the ones that did bleed bled out in black and blue not Nazi red. Aliens, other worldsmen, some very human psychos with eerily familiar ideologies about who was of value and who was not. Bucky fought next to his friend, spilling blood of all colors when necessary, bearing the stains that Captain America couldn’t as a paragon of justice and honor. Then when the ringing in his ears got too loud, he sought you out. Over and over again. He never showed up unannounced and you always answered his call, even when you shouldn’t. You truly didn’t know how to say no to him and he truly didn’t want you to.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bucky knew it wasn’t love, but he didn’t care. It felt good and it felt right and against his better judgment it helped him sleep at night, knowing you were only a half turn away, hugging your pillow, but content to wrap your arms around him instead as long as he asked. And he asked. When he wasn’t in your bed, it helped him stay sane, knowing that someone in the world was waiting on him, caring from a distance, maybe praying for his return. In the Big War, his mother prayed for him. His sisters too. In these mini wars, fought stealthily around the globe, he had you.

Rebecca was still blessedly alive, but his baby sister only remembered him when she saw his face. He would bet that you remembered him even as he schlepped through the mountains of Siberia for the last time. Always Siberia. Evil men must be allergic to sunlight. Sam had jokingly asked him why he always went back and Bucky had jokingly thrown the Falcon’s coffee away, leaving Sam’s hand empty and his mouth full of indignant teeth sucking. That briefing was blessedly brief and Sam didn’t need the rest of his coffee anyways. The flight via jet was longer, but not as horrible as it could have been. Steve’s sympathetic glances were unbearable. It’s the last time, Buck. Yeah, OK. The mission was a success, if you could call it a mission. Sam spun magnificently through the mouth of a cave while Bucky fired back into it, detonating the whole mountainside and leaving this particular Cold War remnant under an avalanche of snow and well kept secrets, never to be reborn. Steve dealt with the press. He had the face for it. Reputation too. Sam soaked up the due praise that came along with it, the next Captain America with his wings and his wit to carry avenging into the 21st century. Bucky, however, peeled off his heavily armed get up and peeled out of the compound without any formal announcement.

When Bucky left for long periods, most assumed he was doing what Steve Rogers would do. Ride around in his bike, traipse through the old neighborhood noting how much it changed. Captain America was the old man, the icon. He had the luxury of wandering. Bucky hadn’t gone anywhere without a mission in mind since the 40’s. He was a soldier, a weapon and while his mind could no longer be weaponized against him, Bucky was still the guy taking care of things that just wouldn’t wash out of Captain America’s shiny cowl. So when he left the compound, no one asked questions. At least not directly to him, something he was thankful for on the hour or so ride to your place. The Bronx apartment was considerably closer than a nostalgic walk through Brooklyn and he got a lot more out of it. He had no mission in Brooklyn, but you were waiting for him and that was enough.

This particular mission was no different. Steve asked him to stay on site and he declined politely as he could without actually stopping to talk to his friend. Natasha called out his hurried steps and followed him halfway to the garage before giving up at his request. It was glaringly obvious to Bucky how they got along so well. Steve and Natasha were quite the pair. Tenacious friends, like the kind of friends that never give up and definitely won’t let you give up on yourself. He saw it in her fierce allegiance and protectiveness over Clint. Now that Steve was huge and well connected in the Avenging community, Bucky supposed that made him the Barton to Steve’s Romanoff. They were insufferable do gooders too. Sure, Natasha had her fair share of red in her ledger, but once she was with the good guys, she was the best of them. Neither one would hesitate to throw themselves on a grenade or over a cliff if it meant someone else’s chance to live. They were do it or die trying people. Sam was… Sam was Sam. And when he spotted Bucky making a beeline to the exit, he just waved and shouted “have a good ride.” The wink was uncalled for and made Bucky question how much Sam really knew. He was a deadly intuitive little shit and despite Bucky’s best attempts not to even think it… one of the best people he’d ever known. Not that he felt the need to tell Sam that. He probably already knew it. Blessedly, Bucky ran into no other superheroes on his way through the compound. The garage, more like a hangar, was empty. Only the most expensive toys in Tony Stark’s arsenal and a high tech key coded workshop that Bucky felt so out of place in he kept a small tool box of his own so he wouldn’t have to wander through it. God forbid he go digging for a socket wrench and laser one of his fingers off. Anything was possible on Stark property.

Bucky zipped across the Hudson and sped toward the zoo, stopping at the deli on the corner and looking up two floors at the flat corner window. You weren’t waiting for him like usual. He’d pulled off the road once he got away from the compound and called you like he always did, giving you plenty of advance warning. It would be more gentlemanly to ask your permission before leaving home, but you hadn’t turned him down yet and if you ever did, he figured he’d keep driving anyways just to be away from everyone else for a while. Most times, when Bucky rounded the corner, slipping his bike into the space between your building and the overgrown lot next door, you found your way to that window, waving him up and putting a little something extra in his steps. You weren’t there, but you knew he was coming, so he made his way to the building’s entrance. A call, a buzz, a knock and Bucky was in your space again, taking a deep breath and inhaling the sweetness from your kitchen.

Your back was turned to him, having opened the door for him before rushing back to your place at the counter without a formal greeting, and Bucky watched curiously as you dropped little chocolate chip cookies onto a paper plate. You waved your fingers around after using your bare hands to pull them off the parchment paper and sucked your thumb between your lips to rid it of a rogue chocolate dripping. Bucky eyed the plate presented to him then looked up into your eyes.

“I googled you,” you said proudly. Bucky nodded and said okay, like he knew what that meant. It sounded sexual, but he hadn’t seen you in a week and frankly, he was more interested in googling than cookies. “It’s your birthday, Bucky! Why didn’t you say anything?” You looked delightfully scandalized and held out two cookies for him, which he accepted with a half smile. They were warm and started to fall apart between his fingers, so he shoved both into his mouth before making a gooey mess of himself. While his mouth was full, you cleaned up your tiny kitchen and dropped the plate onto the coffee table in the living area, talking about how embarrassing it was that you hadn’t thought to look him up sooner, but how lucky you felt that you’d thought about it after he called. You wished you’d had time to make a cake, but wanted to be home when he arrived, so freezer cookies were the best you could do after work.

You weren’t dating. Not really. That was why Bucky hadn’t mentioned it. Steve and Natasha wanted to make a big stink out of it, but he wanted no part of that. He just wanted to see you and get some of that good sleep he only got in your apartment after wearing you out two or three times. Sitting on the couch next to you, he took another cookie from the plate. They were better than they looked and he planned to clear the whole dang thing before taking you to bed. Maybe he’d save a few for the refractory period. You’d need sustenance too. So Bucky took his fourth cookie, which made you smile even wider and pledge to leave the rest for later.

The truth was, Bucky hadn’t celebrated a birthday in decades. The last one he could remember being awake for was in the seventies. He waited outside the governor's mansion in Bermuda for hours, watching a dinner party eventually lull and disperse. The Winter Soldier had no clue of the cruel irony watching another man’s party on one’s birthday, the asset’s only focus was quickly killing the governor and his companion once they stepped out of the house for a walk. He’d spared the dog though, a massive and beautiful beast without a single aggressive bone in its body who loped away from the scene whining. You hated that story when Bucky confessed it. He hadn’t felt the need to go into much detail regarding his time as the fist of Hydra. At first because he didn’t care for you to know. It was a fling. Fun. What pieces he did remember from those days were anything but fun. After determining that he liked you, really liked you, Bucky kept his trap shut for fear of scaring you. You knew who he was in theory, but as long as he wasn’t relaying his bloodiest days to you like he was now, maybe you wouldn’t look at him like the monster he didn’t want to be anymore. To his surprise, you hated that he sat in a tree watching people eat and drink and laugh the night away on his birthday, regardless of whether he knew it at the time. However, you zeroed in on his attempts to spare the dog, filling in the blanks that somewhere deep within the Asset, he had maintained some of his humanity. Some of his Buckyness.

“I don’t know if that helps… or if it makes everything worse…” you said, hesitating to go on, but he caught your meaning. Was it better to think that Hydra succeed in wiping him clean, using only his body and latent memories, discarding his mind all together? Or was it somehow hopeful, to think that in all their trying to eliminate Bucky Barnes in order to free their Asset, some piece of him had remained intact? Bucky wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea that any part of him had been present during grizzly assassinations, nor could he ever fully shake the idea that he wasn’t. Either way, these conversations weren’t what he came to you for.

While you were still looking shy, wondering if you should have stopped him from telling his story, Bucky kissed you. It was sweet, not just from the chocolate on his breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, thumbing a brown smudge at the corner of your mouth. “For the cookies. For listening.” His eyes passed over each of yours in turn. “Thanks for being here.”

“Of course,” you smiled. It wasn’t as obvious as you made it sound, but he liked that you felt it was. “I could be around more, you know.” Bucky didn’t know what you meant, but that became clear in a matter of moments. You sucked in your lips and started again. “I know we haven’t talked about...uh, well, what this is, but you’ve been coming over for a while now and I guess…”

“You guess?” Bucky prompted you to continue, when you trailed off.

“I didn’t expect you to still be calling me, so I guess I’m asking,” you said. “Asking what we are now?”

“Oh.” Bucky hadn’t meant to say it like that, but it came out like that and your eyes widened immediately. He scrambled, grabbing your hands quickly and holding them both in a firm pile against your thigh. “Oh, meaning, I didn’t think that’s what we were doing here, so this is unexpected.”

“Oh,” you respond and Bucky imagines you meant it exactly how it sounded. Disappointed and the single syllable precursor to his being disinvited from your apartment. And your bed. And your everything.

“But, I like the idea,” he supplies quickly, but he can see your look is hesitantly hopeful. “Of more, I mean. Seeing where… ya know.”

“Yeah,” you smile and Bucky breathed out his relief. “So we’re together…?”

“As together as we can be,” he said, having no clue what he meant by it, but it seemed to be the right thing considering how you kissed him. You pulled your hands from his to wrap behind his neck and fit yourself into his lap. Bucky’s hands went to your thighs, spread wide over his hips, and he squeezed his way up the backs to your jean pockets, slipping his hands inside to squeeze again. “Here or…” Bucky pulled away to catch his breath and nod in the direction of your bedroom.

“Take your girlfriend to bed, Bucky,” you laughed, kissing him again and he stood with you still in his arms, legs clinging to his lower back. Girlfriend. Okay, Bucky decided in a snap. He could work with that. Especially if it meant chocolate chip cookies and birthday sex. Which reminded him and you giggled as he turned back around, hoisting you higher up on his torso with the vibranium arm below your butt and stooped carefully to grab the plate of cookies with the other before taking you and your cookies to bed.

His first relationship in the 21st century had surprised him. Come out of nowhere and nothing. One moment he was standing at a bar, nursing a beer that wouldn’t affect him at all while he listened to talk about your job before not so subtly asking about his, the next it was his birthday and he had a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies while you had a mouthful of him. It’s funny how fast life changes. If only he’d known just how quickly his new relationship would fall apart.

A/N: I’ve been cooking up this series for a while now and I thought, why not post the first bit and see what happens. First time writing for this fandom, so we’re diving in head first with a feckin’ long series and some foolin’ around. I do welcome tags if you’re interested.

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #idga fic #some and others

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sleepyashlelouch-blog · 2 years ago

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5 Mundane Things in Life That Are Taken for Granted Way Too Often Start showing your gratitude for them before it’s too late by Chau Trieu

A truly quiet morning It was only until this Lunar New Year that I recognized how rare it was to have a completely quiet morning.

It turns out when you are back at home for the holidays, you need no alarm because you will be woken up by either loud music, car honking, phone ringing, or arguments among family members.

When the holiday was over and everyone around me had to come back to their office, I finally got a truly quiet morning when the only sound I could hear was the voice in my head. I was present and it was the best feeling in the world.

Too often we get carried away by so many outside noises, especially when the city life pushes everybody to keep moving forward. We are pressured into running constantly until we are worn out and only then do we realize how much we crave for only one minute of silence.

So whenever you have the chance to experience complete silence, don’t try to get out of it by turning on loud music or watching movies. Try to be still and be grateful for that precious quiet moment. They come less frequently than you think.

Other people’s kindness I remember a story my parents told me when I was young.

There used to be a rich man in our neighborhood. He did a lot of charity work, including handing out free meals to the homeless in the area. The first few times they were thankful. One day, that man went bankrupt and could no longer support his family, let alone strangers on the streets, so he stopped giving out free food. The homeless bunch went mad and started throwing stones at his house, making his whole family move away. No one in my hometown ever saw that family again.

It’s too easy to take someone’s kindness for granted. But more often than not, many people forget that kindness is a privilege, not a right. You cannot demand people to keep being nice to you and never give anything in return.

If someone is good to you, show your gratitude. If they decide to stop, treasure the past generosity and move on without any resentment.

The well-being of your loved ones A year ago, my grandmother was still able to attend my brother’s wedding with great health.

Just four months after that, she was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and Alzheimer’s disease. She could no longer walk or feed herself. Her memories started to jumble up and she could not recognize her children and grandchildren.

It’s insane to see how quickly a person can fall ill.

I think one of the reasons I hate growing up is accepting the fact that my parents and grandparents are getting older and more physically vulnerable. With the pandemic going on the past three years, it’s more visible that we can lose our loved ones in a blink of an eye.

So treasure every minute with your family. Capture them with your camera. Stop looking down on your phones and start looking at the familiar faces. You never know when your last conversation with them will be.

A get-together with your close friends In some Asian cultures, people deem birth sign year unlucky.

This is the reason why people born in the tiger year rushed to get married in 2021 so they wouldn’t tie the knot in the star-crossed 2022. Many of my friends did the same thing.

Ever since they started a family, it has been more difficult to set a get-together with them. Even if we could hang out, their attention would still be with their spouses and not their friends. It’s bittersweet to reckon that the friends you used to hang out with every day after school are now married people with concerns and worries a single person like you cannot understand.

I feel like a Peter Pan in a crowd of Wendys.

But just like the ending of Peter Pan, I have to accept that people will change and I and my friends cannot stay the wide-eyed high schoolers forever.

But if I had known our last get-together before they got married marked the end of an era, I would have tried to seize the moment.

Breathing As someone who has asthma, I envy people who can breathe easily and effortlessly. If you are not familiar with this disease, asthma is a condition in which your airways narrow and swell. This can make breathing difficult and shortness of breath, according to MayoClinic.

Breathing, I believe, is the most overlooked thing. More than pumping oxygen in our organs and keeping us alive, breathing is a simple yet powerful action to calm us down and help us stay sane.

Recall the last time you were anxious, stressed out, or angry. Your breaths, in response to your emotions, were shallow and irregular, weren’t they?

The next time you experience discomfort, frustration, or stress, try taking a deep breath. It will reduce your heart rate, turn off your nervous system and calm your mind.

“Breath is the soul and soul is the breath.” ― Hazrat Inayat Khan, The Heart of Sufism: Essential Writings of Hazrat Inayat Khan

Takeaways In a world of chaos and turbulence, it is not great success or material possessions that keep us happy and grounded, but the most mundane things like:

Our inhale and exhale A moment of complete silence in the morning The conversation we have with our friends Being with our healthy and well family Doing a good deed and being treated kindly By acknowledging how fortunate you are and paying gratitude for everything you have, you will be empowered to conquer all the challenges that are coming your way.

Good luck!

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bunnylouisegrimes · 3 years ago

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It’s A Wonderful Afterlife (NOS4A2 Fanfic)

A/N: I’ve had this story idea in my head for awhile, but I got to writing it yesterday and the day before yesterday. Basically, this one is the story of Rose’s transformation into a vampire. It’s gonna cover some heavy topics such as nearing the end of your life and terminal illness, so be warned, but there’s a lot of happiness in the middle and near the end. Hope you all enjoy!

It’s A Wonderful Afterlife

A NOS4A2 Fanfic

By: Bunny Louise Grimes

As the years went by for Rose, very little had changed in terms of her personality. She had remained shy and introverted (unless in the company of those she deeply trusted), she had remained both gothy and girly, and she had remained nerdy. Her love for her toys, her games, her writing, her art, her vampire husband, and her children had never waned. Fifty years of marriage and a set of dhampir twins later, and from the inside, she was as young as she had been on her wedding day.

Physically, she had her differences.

By the time she reached 57, grey hairs were starting to show in ways they hadn’t before. She had never been the type to dye her hair, but in order to preserve its beauty that she so cherished, from then on out, she dyed her long hair the closest shade of matching brunette she could.

Her height was as short as before, her weight was roughly around the same spot thanks to her vigorously making sure she never went past 200 pounds, and her eyes were as hazel as before, with the exception of holding an aged look. Her face and skin had shown the obvious signs of age, but such a thing was inevitable. It was nothing a little makeup couldn’t help make look better.

Charlie still found his June Rose to be as beautiful as he always found her. He had asked her on and off since their consummation on their wedding night, where he took her virginity and kept it within him to turn her into a vampire just like him one day, if she was willing to grow an older human. She always told him she did; she wanted to see how long this “human” thing would go. She wanted to experience humanity till the end, when the next chapter in her life would have to begin and vampirism would take the lead.

But by the age of 75, when she looked as though she was older than Charlie (when he wasn’t in desperate need of souls), and looked to be a grandmother to the children of Christmasland rather than mother, and her parents and brother had moved on to the other side from their own respective health issues, things were beginning to be odd. It was a whole seven months after her 75th birthday when something wasn’t right.

The first sign was the weight loss. Rose had always been a bit plump, but both she and Charlie noticed her normally soft potbelly was slimmer and smaller. They also noticed her thighs and arms were slimmer. This confused them, and they kept it in mind, but they figured it could be the result of age rather than a sickness.

The second sign was the pain in her abdomen and middle back. Within a few weeks of noticing her fat going down, she had pains in these areas on and off, and they would pick up in intensity and frequency some days.

The third sign was the general sickness she felt. One moment, she would be playing with the children, the next, she would be feeling extremely nauseous and fatigued. She would have to throw up in the bathroom and it would take a few minutes for her to recover. Charlie and her both knew that this went beyond weariness from play due to elder age. This was an apparent illness, and something was physically wrong.

However, Rose was also unusual not just in her gastrointestinal area, but her mind as well.

Forgetfulness and misplacing something was nothing noticeable, as she did it all the time. But she suspected something wasn’t right when within those same few weeks, she was slowly starting to forget things that just happened. Both her and Charlie would be watching an episode of one of their shows, and by the time commercials ended, she was struggling to remember quite a few details of what happened before them. It took her a moment to connect the events together. The same happened when she would read, and every once in a while, she would have to slowly read the same paragraph three times.

The turning point came when she and Charlie were discussing things in bed, and she was struggling to remember certain conversations they had and she had with the children only a month ago that she remembered a week before. A few details Rose brought up were nonexistent, and Charlie had to correct her. That night, she decided that between these small forgetful spells and these stomach issues, it was clear she needed to go to a doctor as soon as possible. He agreed and promised to take her in the morning.

The next day, they left Christmasland for the appointment Charlie made for her the moment he woke up. They explained to the doctor all of Rose’s physical and mental symptoms. The doctor nodded; how he nodded made her nervous. When she was younger, she was a nurse, and through her medical knowledge, she could guess what these symptoms meant, but she wanted to trust another medical professional’s judgement, as these things could be nothing rather than something, but as obvious as it sounded, it was always better to be safe than sorry. She had seen that nod before when in the presence of both patients who were relieved to find their serious symptoms were nothing and those who were about to have the news of terminal illness broken to them. Like a coin flip, it would be heads or tails: heads would be another day to live, tails would be a death sentence.

A series of nerve wracking scans and tests with Charlie by her side later, and the diagnosis was clear. The moment the doctor came back to their room, Rose, like a bloodhound, smelled the sullen seriousness in his face and tone of voice. She recognized that face and voice from her nurse days; the coin was tails. He was about to give her the date and method of her execution before slamming his gravel down.

Rose had always imagined that she would go out thanks to her heart or some sort of diabetes related sickness, given bad hearts and diabetes ran in her mom’s side of the family, and her obesity she tried to control would certainly be a contributing factor. Genetics were a hell of a double edged sword: they could give you the most beautiful set of eyes and hair with skin to match, but they could also give you the worst odds of illness you could think of.

This time, it was not Rose’s heart that would fail her, or the development of diabetes. It was two things that were just as genetic, but aruguably worse. She recalled her mother telling her that Rose’s great aunt had died of pancreatic cancer, and it was a miserable way to go. She also remembered her mother telling her that Rose’s great grandmother was suspected of suffering from Alzheimer’s before succumbing to death.

Well, it was no surprise to Rose when she learned that these two things were her method of execution. Not only because she suspected they could be possibilities, but because the facts were simple: if she was somehow strong enough to survive the painful destruction her body would suffer from the cancer, the synapses in her brain would be eaten away, just as if she was bitten by a zombie from one of her stories, and much like a zombie, not much would remain of her but a dead shell. She would be a burden to her husband and children, and they would have to watch her go from being a loving, wonder filled woman to a sickly, miserable, pain filled stranger who wouldn’t even be able to remember herself, her lover, or her children.

Both her and Charlie took this news with with equal sadness. The future was bleak, and they knew that. Not even chemotherapy treatment was worth it.

“My grandfather suffered from esophageal cancer, and he did not fare well with chemo thanks to his genetics,” she explained to the doctor. “Given that I am half my mother, and she is half of him, my odds are not good, are they?”

“Well, you certainly have a better chance than your mother, but yes, he is a direct blood relative, so the odds are there. If you wish to go through chemo, we can get you started on it, but if you don’t want to risk it or have any treatment, you’ll have roughly a year left to live. Since cancer and dimentia do have a connection, as it spreads throughout your stomach and body, your mental decline will come rapidly. I estimate that you will go through the final stages of both illnesses simultaneously, and it will, to put it lightly, be painful for all parties involved.”

Rose nodded. “I don’t think I want to risk it. I don’t think there’s much of a point to go through all of that, only for my mind to fail me. Not to mention, wouldn’t chemo worsen it?”

“It can, yes,” the doctor continued. “Since the state of Colorado offers the End of Life Options Act, we can administer physician assisted suicide, if that is what you would prefer, but there will be a few things you’ll need to do.”

Had Charlie not been in her life, Rose would’ve agreed to do such a thing in these circumstances, although, if she hasn’t met him, she most likely wouldn’t have been in the state of Colorado and instead stuck back home in Ohio, where no such laws would exist. She knew that with the choice of transforming into a vampire, suicide wasn’t needed.

“I’ll need to think on that,” Rose lied.

“I understand, as this is a lot to take in. Please contact me as soon as possible when you have come to your decisions.”

Father and Mother Christmas departed the hospital and stepped inside the Wraith. The drive back to Gunbarrel was at first silent, but Charlie needed to pull over to a secluded area. Rose could see the tears in his brown eyes.

“My beloved...” He hushed, his deep voice breaking. “You’re so sick...”

“I know,” she said softly. “I wanted to give my humanity the best run I could, and I did. But I’m not going through this shit. I’m going out on my own terms, only I won’t have to die. I’m becoming a vampire, and going into the next chapter of my life.” She turned to Charlie. “You don’t need to cry, baby. You have the power to prevent my departure from this world. I already talked to each of my family before they went, and they knew I was going to be immortal as long as I could be, but I could still contact them through my new psychic powers. If you and the kids are more sensitive to spirits, that must mean I will be too. Hell, we’ll make it look like I chose to die without treatment or assisted suicide to the doctors. I’ll be alright. Everything will be alright.”

“Yes, I know,” he sobbed, wiping his eyes. “It’s just... the idea of you dying... the fact is, you had been dying, and you are dying. I know that’s humanity, but when you have something like this... you are not only dying in the human sense, but the clinical as well.”

The gravity of Charlie’s words slapped Rose in the face, just as the news of her diagnosis in the first place had moments ago. Even though she had another chance, unlike so many others in her place, there was still a sadness to be had. This chapter in her life was done, and she could either do one of two endings: continue down a horrible road until salvation was given to her and everyone was left scarred from their experiences, or embrace salvation now. Rose knew that she was going to avoid that horrible road and jump straight to the awe inspiring transformation that would mark the next chapter, but it was a shame her human form had to suffer like this, and that it was even an issue. In addition, 75 was decently young for elderly death. If she were in her 80’s, or especially her 90’s, this was expectant, but 75... it seemed a bit too soon.

She began to cough, and Charlie handed her his white handkerchief. Her eyes widened when she saw blood splatter, and that’s when her own tears poured from her eyes. She gave it back to Charlie and buried herself in his chest. The two held onto each other and wept for a good twenty minutes before deciding they needed to head back home.

Before they exited the car to greet their children, Rose suddenly smiled as she held Charlie’s hand. “Tomorrow,” she said. “I think tomorrow is a good day to celebrate my last day of humanity, and then I’d like to transform. If that’s okay with you.”

A smile formed on his own face. “Whatever day you are ready, my love. I will fuse your innocence back inside of you whenever you desire.”

They broke the news to the children, but they handled it well. They understood the severity of the situation regarding their mother’s health, but were excited and viewed the positive side, that their mother was to be an immortal vampire much like them and their father. When their mother told them she would like to celebrate the last day of her humanity tomorrow and transform into a vampire tomorrow night, they knew that much was to be anticipated for. Their father assured them that tomorrow would be a day to never forget.

While the other children ran upstairs to go to bed, excited for what tomorrow would hold, Millie, Lorrie, Nicholas, and Holly stayed behind. They ran over to their mother and hugged her.

“Even though you’re not gonna be a human anymore,” Lorrie began, “it doesn’t change a thing.”

“We always knew you’d be a vampire like us one day,” Millie added. “We hope you’ll be healthy and happy again real soon.”

“I will, babies,” Rose reassured them. “I will.”

“If we’re half human...” Nicholas spoke up.

“...That means we’re the last pieces of your humanity, right?” Holly finished.

“Yes, it does, babies,” Rose smiled wider. “I suppose it does.”

The twins beamed at each other in pride.

“But just because I’ll become a vampire doesn’t mean I still won’t be myself,” she clarified. “We’ll all still be just as we were, just with me having some physical improvements. It’ll be just as if I will always human.”

They nodded and knew it was time to get ready for bed with the others. They raced each other up the stairs, their parents tagging behind. When everyone was ready, Charlie and Rose bid the little ones good night before snuggling close to each other in their own bed.

Sleep could not come quick or easy for Rose, as her worries and anxieties mixed with her excitement kept her awake, but somehow, she found herself asleep. While Charlie slept, he dreamt of how the party would look for his beloved: the balloons, the streamers, the cake, the lights, the roses everywhere, the unicorns, the glitter... everything to honor his lover’s life and everything that represented what she was and would always be to their family.

When he awoke the next morning, Rose was still asleep. Letting her get her much needed rest, he snuck downstairs. The children had all woke up at the same time he had. They all snuck down the steps and they paused, amazed at the sight that awaited them downstairs...

When Rose opened her eyes and rubbed them, she turned next to her to find Charlie missing. She went to the bathroom and left her bedroom to check on the children. They were not in their very large and ever expanding bed. She noticed that the living room was dark, but all sorts of odd shadows filled it. She went down the steps and turned the lights on.

“Surprise!” Everyone cheered.

Rose gasped. Her eyes were filled with wonder as she saw what her living room had become.

Rainbow lights and glittery streamers filled the ceiling. Colorful balloons and roses of all colors were everywhere. In the center of the coffee table was a cake with candles that became aglow once she turned the lights on. A wonderfully designed unicorn figurine with roses in its mane and tail set on the cake.

“Oh... oh, it’s beautiful!” Rose cried, tears of joy filling her eyes. “Oh, I’ve never seen anything like it before!”

Charlie beamed and pulled a pink dress over her nightgown. She hugged him and kissed him on the lips, cheeks, nose, and forehead.

“How did you all do this?” She asked.

“I dreamed it, like I do everything... well, not everything, as you are far too beautiful to be dreamed from me.”

She blushed and hugged him even tighter. “You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known. I am so happy to know you, be with you and have all these little ones to raise with you.”

The children rushed to her and she gave them as many hugs and kisses as she could give.

“Look outside, and you’ll see the party goes beyond this room,” Charlie said.

Rose opened the front door and was taken aback. Christmasland was covered in more roses, balloons, glitter, and rainbow lights. Amongst it all, the rainbow unicorns from Charlie’s zoo played in the snow together, free to roam from their usual enclosure.

“It’s all in your honor, my dear.” Charlie laid a kiss on her head.

She could speak no words, just gaze in amazement as the children ran outside to play. Charlie and Rose did the same, and for the rest of the day, they played and occasionally stopped to eat. Rose did her best to keep it together, but surprisingly, no ill feelings or forgetful spells came to her. Perhaps because her body knew that it was only one last day until her body would be immune to all ailments, so it needed to use the last of its strength. Or because happiness was her best medicine in the moment. She couldn’t tell which.

By the end of the day, they had gathered back inside, she blew the candles on the cake, and they began to eat some of it. The time had come where they needed to go to bed so that their mother’s transformation could occur. She read them her favorite bedtime stories before they all got too tired to stay awake. She and Charlie kissed them all good night and closed the door, knowing that would be the last time they’d ever see her in her old form.

When they entered the room, the couple closed their door and the fireplace kicked on thanks to Charlie’s abilities. Rose laid on the bed and sighed.

“Today is one of the best days of my entire life,” she said. “I have you and the babies to thank for that. You have made my human days very special, and you will make my vampire ones the same.”

Charlie laid next to her. “You have made my days very special, and you have made the babies’ days very special. We have you to thank for that.”

They exchanged a kiss before Rose sat up. “Well now... are we ready?”

“Are you ready is the more important question.”

“I think I am,” she said. “Words cannot describe how wonderful this day has been from start to finish. It is a day I will cherish forever. And before my sicknesses get to me... I shall end my humanity and ring in my new vampirism on the happiest note possible.”

She looked at herself in a mirror nearby as she slipped her dress off. “Oh, my dear human body. You have seen so much since the moment I was born. And yet, here we are. You won’t be the same ever again, and you will be improved in ways unimaginably amazing, but I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Even when I’ve experienced self hatred, I was always thankful for you. I hope you love this new form.”

She turned back to Charlie and laid back down. “I guess this means I’ll get to eat people with you guys. The right ones, of course. And fangs, nails, a new body temperature... That should all be an interesting experience. And I can’t wait to see what using similar if not exact abilities like you will be like... this will not only be the next chapter in my life, but will be a bonding experience that will bring us all closer together, I think.”

“I agree, my love,” he said. “I agree.”

The two snuggled close together.

“Thank you for doing this, sugar pop,” she sighed. “What would I do without you?”

“What would I do without you is the bigger question,” he chuckled. “I will always love you.”

“I’ll always love you too.”

He leaned into her ear. “Are you ready at this moment?”

“Yes.” Her voice had some nervousness in it, but the confidence outweighed it in ways immeasurable.

“Lift up your chin so I may see your neck.”

She did as she was told. Charlie gazed upon it and his fangs came jutting out, an energy boiling within him.

“Good bye, old life,” Rose whispered with peace. “May our memories live on for all of immortal eternity.”

“Welcome to your new summer to blossom, my June Rose.”

Charlie slammed his fangs down upon her neck, an energy force emitting from the two bite marks. She gasped and her eyes widened. A foreign, but comfortable and oddly familiar sensation came over her. She clutched onto his back as blood dripped down from the bite marks. They glowed a white-blue color.

As the sensation consumed her, she felt as if she was traveling back in time. Every few seconds was another year she felt healthier and younger. It took her a moment to register that’s what that was, but when she saw her face in Charlie’s eyes... she could confirm her wrinkles were fading.

She looked at the arm she could see most clearly. Her wrinkles had dissipated and the fat had returned. She was sure her other arm looked the same. When she looked at her hand, she saw her nails gaining a yellow tint. She felt them increasing in length. Once they reached the same length as Charlie’s, they stopped. She couldn’t see her feet or legs, but she could feel the same effect happening to them. Her legs and feet (and especially her thighs) gained back the weight they had lost. She noted that her pallor was now matching Charlie’s, based on how her arm and hand looked.

Her breasts, always large, plumped back to their youthful size. Her stomach had also returned to the cushiony potbelly Charlie always loved to rest his head on. As embarrassing as it sounded, she felt her privates tingle and somewhere above them, a burning sensation occurred. She thought about it, but considered that her fertility must’ve been returning. She was miserable on and off when experiencing menopause, but she supposed as a vampire, she’d be able to withstand any pains she might experience if she had periods again. In addition, she was sure Charlie would still find her menstrual blood as delicious as he did before when she was human.

Through the reflection in Charlie’s eyes, Rose could see her wrinkles had completely faded. The aged look her hazel eyes held flooded with a new look of old youth meeting for an eternal kiss after years of departure. Her face returned to how she looked on their wedding night, only a bit more pale. She grunted as her white teeth gained their own yellow tint and increased in sharpness. A group of fangs came out from behind these new teeth. Once this occurred, blood filled her mouth and trickled down her throat while ice cold breath emitted from her nose and mouth like a rabid animal. A warmth in her stomach made her feel as if she had drunk the finest coffee or hot chocolate rather than blood.

My God... this is why vampires crave this stuff... it’s got flavors in it that we can’t taste.

The dye in her hair had faded, exposing the natural grey. But it quickly disappeared as her natural brunette took over. At long last, she felt she could embrace her natural hair again. Even its volume, thickness, and waviness returned.

Rose had to fall back further at the sheer force from her insides. The blood that fell from her neck returned to the permanent bite marks and absorbed back inside of her. Cold chills consumed her. Her eyes, nose, ears, tongue, and touch nerves sharpened. The cancer cells in her body exploded like little stars until they were gone entirely. Every healthy cell underwent a metamorphosis that strengthened them and kept them permanently superhuman. Because of this, her immune system had reached powers impossible for the human body, destroying anything abnormal. Any sickness would be identified and wiped out instantly thanks to her new antibodies. Even her asthma had been erased from her lungs. From within her brain, the synapses snapped back together like a puzzle, and her memory was the clearest it had ever been.

I’m healthy again... Thank God, I’m heathy again...

Once her body was complete, a new sensation took over her back. She tried to jolt forward, but Charlie was still on top of her. He stepped back, as every ounce of innocence was back inside of her now. She lurched forward and leaned down. She could see her new legs and feet and her other arm, just as the other one.

Her back felt heavy. Something was weighing her down... something was coming out of it... something...

Unable to control the scream that came from her, two large masses of bone, muscle, and skin came from her back, perfectly ripping her nightgown, and extended to reveal... bat wings. Through the light in the room, the veins had looked like their own art piece to Charlie.

As quickly as the pain came, it left Rose and she laid back down, gasping and skiddishly feeling the new wings. Just like one’s arms or legs, she found she could move them like any other appendage. She flapped them, noticing they were larger than her. A small gust of wind filled the room.

“They’re... beautiful...” Charlie marveled.

Unable to speak, Rose stood up and stumbled. She found that her wings and heavier weight added some balance issues, but within thirty seconds, she had adjusted. She walked over to the mirror to look at herself more closely. Her toenails clacked against the wood, just as Charlie’s did. She looked just as she did when she was young; this time, she was pale, colder, had sharper senses, had vampire teeth and nails, a vampire bite mark on her neck, and very large bat wings on her back. She curled them up and extended them out comfortably. She flapped them a few times, and she found herself being lifted up into the air through the force of such gusts.

“Woah!” She cried. She let her wings die down and she landed as gently as she could on the floor.

She turned to Charlie, who stared at her with twinkling eyes.

“I guess I’m gonna need to make holes for these bad boys in all my clothes, huh?” She laughed. Her voice had largely remained the same, but this time, there was a youthful strength to it.

Charlie chuckled and beaconed her back to bed. “I suppose we shall. You look absolutely stunning, just as you always have. Only this time, your inner beauty is emanating from you. We shall see all of your abilities in the morning, especially since I’m sure the children would love to see you and your new talents as well. I’m quite surprised that scream didn’t stir them. But I believe your body needs a rest after the amount of change it had to go through.”

She nodded and crawled back into bed, right next to Charlie. They cuddled up next to each other. Her wings curled back up in a way that was comfortable. He rested his chin on her head and she nuzzled her face in his chest. Their combined warmth made sure they wouldn’t feel cold while sleeping. Rest had come easy for the both of them, and they found themselves sharing a pleasant dream.

Tomorrow would be the day the children would awake to be gifted with their healthy vampire mother, but even so, she would still always be the mother they knew and loved. For Charlie, she would always be the wife he knew and loved. For Rose, her new chapter had begun, and the dawn of a new era was ready to last for the rest of their eternity.

#nos4a2 #charlie manx #charles manx #nos4a2 charlie

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karlyanalora · 4 years ago

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How to Get a Boyfriend

I asked my great grandmother, who is 97 with Alzheimer’s, how to get a boyfriend. She said, “You look him straight in the face and you give him a little smile. And you hold his hand. He might want to give you a hug. You let him. And if he doesn’t ask you, you give him one.” She also asked, “Do you want a boyfriend with a fancy car?”

When I said I wanted one who was nice and smart, she had no comment. Now, my great grandmother is an amazing woman, but take her advice with a grain of salt. My family tree is more like a family bush for a reason.

#how to get a boyfriend #according to my great grandma #advice from old people #life advice #with a grain of salt #original something

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zo2paintedlady · 4 years ago

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LGBTQ+ Novels/Memoirs

Here is the book list from my LIS 618 class. The links will bring you to their Goodreads pages.

The 57 Bus by Dashka Slater (2017) *based on a true story* "One teenager in a skirt. One teenager with a lighter. One moment that changes both of their lives forever. If it weren't for the 57 bus, Sasha and Richard never would have met. Both were high school students from Oakland, California, one of the most diverse cities in the country, but they inhabited different worlds. Sasha, a white teen, lived in the middle-class foothills and attended a small private school. Richard, a black teen, lived in the crime-plagued flatlands and attended a large public one. Each day, their paths overlapped for a mere eight minutes. But one afternoon on the bus ride home from school, a single reckless act left Sasha severely burned, and Richard charged with two hate crimes and facing life imprisonment. The case garnered international attention, thrusting both teenagers into the spotlight."

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Saenz (2012) "Aristotle is an angry teen with a brother in prison. Dante is a know-it-all who has an unusual way of looking at the world. When the two meet at the swimming pool, they seem to have nothing in common. But as the loners start spending time together, they discover that they share a special friendship--the kind that changes lives and lasts a lifetime. And it is through this friendship that Ari and Dante will learn the most important truths about themselves and the kind of people they want to be."

The Art of Being Normal by Lisa Williamson (2016) "Two boys. Two secrets. David Piper has always been an outsider. His parents think he’s gay. The school bully thinks he’s a freak. Only his two best friends know the real truth – David wants to be a girl. On the first day at his new school Leo Denton has one goal – to be invisible. Attracting the attention of the most beautiful girl in year eleven is definitely not part of that plan. When Leo stands up for David in a fight, an unlikely friendship forms. But things are about to get messy. Because at Eden Park School secrets have a funny habit of not staying secret for long…"

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender (2020) "Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle...."

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe (2019) "In 2014, Maia Kobabe, who uses e/em/eir pronouns, thought that a comic of reading statistics would be the last autobiographical comic e would ever write. At the time, it was the only thing e felt comfortable with strangers knowing about em. Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma of pap smears. Started as a way to explain to eir family what it means to be nonbinary and asexual, Gender Queer is more than a personal story: it is a useful and touching guide on gender identity--what it means and how to think about it--for advocates, friends, and humans everywhere."

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver (2019) "When Ben De Backer comes out to their parents as nonbinary, they're thrown out of their house and forced to move in with their estranged older sister, Hannah, and her husband, Thomas, whom Ben has never even met. Struggling with an anxiety disorder compounded by their parents' rejection, they come out only to Hannah, Thomas, and their therapist and try to keep a low profile in a new school. But Ben's attempts to survive the last half of senior year unnoticed are thwarted when Nathan Allan, a funny and charismatic student, decides to take Ben under his wing. As Ben and Nathan's friendship grows, their feelings for each other begin to change, and what started as a disastrous turn of events looks like it might just be a chance to start a happier new life."

Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert (2017) "When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (along with her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse."

The Music of What Happens by Bill Konigsberg (2019) "IMax: Chill. Sports. Video games. Gay and not a big deal, not to him, not to his mom, not to his buddies. And a secret: An encounter with an older kid that makes it hard to breathe, one that he doesn't want to think about, ever. Jordan: The opposite of chill. Poetry. His "wives" and the Chandler Mall. Never been kissed and searching for Mr. Right, who probably won't like him anyway. And a secret: A spiraling out of control mother, and the knowledge that he's the only one who can keep the family from falling apart. Throw in a rickety, 1980s-era food truck called Coq Au Vinny. Add in prickly pears, cloud eggs, and a murky idea of what's considered locally sourced and organic. Place it all in Mesa, Arizona, in June, where the temp regularly hits 114. And top it off with a touch of undeniable chemistry between utter opposites."

Odd One Out by Nic Stone (2018) "Courtney "Coop" Cooper Dumped. Again. And normally I wouldn't mind. But right now, my best friend and source of solace, Jupiter Sanchez, is ignoring me to text some girl. Rae Evelyn Chin I assumed "new girl" would be synonymous with "pariah," but Jupiter and Courtney make me feel like I'm right where I belong. I also want to kiss him. And her. Which is . . . perplexing. Jupiter Charity-Sanchez The only thing worse than losing the girl you love to a boy is losing her to your boy. That means losing him, too. I have to make a move. . . . One story. Three sides. No easy answers."

Ramona Blue by Julie Murphy (2017) "'Ramona was only five years old when Hurricane Katrina changed her life forever. Since then, it’s been Ramona and her family against the world. Standing over six feet tall with unmistakable blue hair, Ramona is sure of three things: she likes girls, she’s fiercely devoted to her family, and she knows she’s destined for something bigger than the trailer she calls home in Eulogy, Mississippi. But juggling multiple jobs, her flaky mom, and her well-meaning but ineffectual dad forces her to be the adult of the family. Now, with her sister, Hattie, pregnant, responsibility weighs more heavily than ever."

Rethinking Normal by Katie Rain Hill (2014) "Have you ever worried that you'd never be able to live up to your parents' expectations? Have you ever imagined that life would be better if you were just invisible? Have you ever thought you would do anything--anything--to make the teasing stop? Katie Hill had and it nearly tore her apart. Katie never felt comfortable in her own skin. She realized very young that a serious mistake had been made; she was a girl who had been born in the body of a boy. Suffocating under her peers' bullying and the mounting pressure to be "normal," Katie tried to take her life at the age of eight years old. After several other failed attempts, she finally understood that "Katie"--the girl trapped within her--was determined to live."

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera (2017) "On September 5, a little after midnight, Death-Cast calls Mateo Torrez and Rufus Emeterio to give them some bad news: They’re going to die today. Mateo and Rufus are total strangers, but, for different reasons, they’re both looking to make a new friend on their End Day. The good news: There’s an app for that. It’s called the Last Friend, and through it, Rufus and Mateo are about to meet up for one last great adventure—to live a lifetime in a single day."

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan (2013) "New York Times bestselling author David Levithan tells the based-on-true-events story of Harry and Craig, two 17-year-olds who are about to take part in a 32-hour marathon of kissing to set a new Guinness World Record—all of which is narrated by a Greek Chorus of the generation of gay men lost to AIDS. While the two increasingly dehydrated and sleep-deprived boys are locking lips, they become a focal point in the lives of other teen boys dealing with languishing long-term relationships, coming out, navigating gender identity, and falling deeper into the digital rabbit hole of gay hookup sites—all while the kissing former couple tries to figure out their own feelings for each other."

We are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson (2016) "Henry Denton has spent years being periodically abducted by aliens. Then the aliens give him an ultimatum: The world will end in 144 days, and all Henry has to do to stop it is push a big red button. Only he isn’t sure he wants to. After all, life hasn’t been great for Henry. His mom is a struggling waitress held together by a thin layer of cigarette smoke. His brother is a jobless dropout who just knocked someone up. His grandmother is slowly losing herself to Alzheimer’s. And Henry is still dealing with the grief of his boyfriend’s suicide last year. Wiping the slate clean sounds like a pretty good choice to him. But Henry is a scientist first, and facing the question thoroughly and logically, he begins to look for pros and cons: in the bully who is his perpetual one-night stand, in the best friend who betrayed him, in the brilliant and mysterious boy who walked into the wrong class. Weighing the pain and the joy that surrounds him, Henry is left with the ultimate choice: push the button and save the planet and everyone on it…or let the world—and his pain—be destroyed forever."

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson (2020) "Liz Lighty has always believed she's too black, too poor, too awkward to shine in her small, rich, prom-obsessed midwestern town. But it's okay -- Liz has a plan that will get her out of Campbell, Indiana, forever: attend the uber-elite Pennington College, play in their world-famous orchestra, and become a doctor. But when the financial aid she was counting on unexpectedly falls through, Liz's plans come crashing down . . . until she's reminded of her school's scholarship for prom king and queen. There's nothing Liz wants to do less than endure a gauntlet of social media trolls, catty competitors, and humiliating public events, but despite her devastating fear of the spotlight she's willing to do whatever it takes to get to Pennington. The only thing that makes it halfway bearable is the new girl in school, Mack. She's smart, funny, and just as much of an outsider as Liz. But Mack is also in the running for queen. Will falling for the competition keep Liz from her dreams . . . or make them come true?"

#lgbtq+ literature #lgbtq+ books for adolescents #lgbtq+#book list #lgbtq+ book list #novels/memoirs #ya books #lgbtq

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tuellertrails · 4 years ago

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We’re 3 weeks into our hike so far, here are a few things I have learned

- Wake up EARLY in the desert. Because it will get hotter than hell and you will die of heatstroke if you hike in the heat of the day.

- Take your shoes (foot prisons) off at every opportunity. Your feet will thank you

- The higher you go in elevation, the harder the hiking is, the less hot it becomes and the more beautiful the scenery is. The desert has its own kind of beauty, but being in an alpine environment with lots of trees and the smell of sun warmed pine needles is my favorite place to be (besides a comfortable bed watching TV and eating snacks, of course). We’ve had several days of hiking where we’ve done over 5k feet of elevation, and I find that I am particularly prone to swearing and exhaustion on those days 😂. But the incredible views do make up for it somewhat! It’s all part of the experience.

- Ibuprofen (Vitamin I) and Benadryl are a hikers best friend.

- Pack out fresh food whenever you can. Vegetables and fruit have never tasted so good.

- Kindness is EVERYWHERE. We’ve received food, cold drinks, rides, camp chairs to sit in and many other kindnesses from trail angels, other hikers, family members and random people. Everything is appreciated.

Speaking of kindness, we spent several hours one day waiting out the heat of the day in a small hut next to the wind farm made for hot, suffering PCT hikers, with a cooler of cold water for us to enjoy. It was 95* even in the shade 🥵. We did not leave early enough that day, but it gave me the chance to wait out the heat and look at my phone 😂.

Here’s some highlights/points of interest from the last 100+ miles

- We heard a great story from Trail Angel who gave us a ride out of Julian, who heard it from a different hiker that she gave a ride to. So the hiker was hiking down the trail (early on, around mile 15) when he hears a voice say "hello". He looks down and sees a guy laying in the bushes in a sleeping bag with mud on his face. "Oh, uh... hello" the hiker says. The man responds "Would you like to be blessed with magic sand?" And holds up a pile of sand in his hand. The guy wasn't sure if this dude was on drugs, was going to throw the sand in his face or what, and he's contemplating how to side step this very weird man when the dude stands up and reveals that he is completely naked and says "You should really use mud. It makes the best sunscreen". Glad that it wasn’t me, poor guy.

- We went through a small town in Warner Springs who had a gas station and some picnic tables, so basically a hiker haven. We spent a couple of hours eating gas station food, and I gave another hiker a shot in the butt 😂. Nursing skills always coming in handy out here. Landon consistently says that the gas station hot dog was one of the highlights of the trail.

- My feet are MUCH better than they were. Getting inserts and some foot compression socks were a game changer for me. I now can walk many more miles without having to stop so often to roll out the golf balls on my feet. Despite this, hiking is still hard and we still find new soreness, aches and pains every day. But I do think that we are toughening up and able to do more miles than we did the first week. My blisters are mostly hardened now, and we have done as many as 18 miles in a day at this point.

- Water can be very scarce, and you have to plan out your water carries very carefully. One water source in this last stretch was a big water tank a few hundred feet from “Mikes Place”. Mikes Place is near the trail and has a big water cistern for hikers to go and get water, but they also let hikers camp and party there and sometimes feed them. There were some comments on Guthooks (the hiking navigation app we use) about how Mikes Place was kind of sketchy and borderline sexist, but we went down there with our hiker friends Sarah and Clyde, hoping for some food. Mikes place was interesting to say the least. It was a run down one story house that looked rather shabbily built, with a blanket as a wall in one section. It’s in a few acres of property, and there are all sorts of random things in front of the house. An assortment of stools and chairs, some lawn games like croquet and darts, a fire pit, a few coolers, and then even more random things like a sword stuck in a stone (a replica like in the movie). There was also an old painted car on one end, a shabby outdoor kitchen with a pizza oven and a greasy grill and lots of bowls and plates and utensils, and lots of other items spread out across the property. It seemed a little hoarder-y to us. They had Johnny cash playing in the background which kind of fit the vibe of the place. There were a few hikers there eating already, and a more stout gentleman wearing a t shirt, shorts and flip flops whose name was Scott. He said that there was no food left but that we could cook our own if we wanted, and we were like "ummm, sure?"  So he brought out the ingredients for breakfast burritos and we got to cracking eggs and slicing veggies and fired up the very greasy outdoor grill, and within about 15 minutes we were eating breakfast burritos. Scott was a little weird. He would pop in and out of where we were cooking and then disappear again, I guess he was nice enough but he just gave off a bit of a weird vibe. Apparently Mike lives in San Diego and Scott is a caretaker of his place for now, along with another guy named Spirit who we met a little later as we ate. He was a older guy, with long white hair in a ponytail and beard, wearing a dirty green zip hoodie with what looked to be a hand painted "VVR" on it, jeans and chacos. He chatted with us briefly, he is a hiker who has hiked the John Muir Trail every year since 2014 and then decided to go work at VVR, a resort in the Sierras, after visiting it so many times. He said he was headed up there in a few weeks. Anyways, we are our burritos, washed our plates, said thank you and left to go filter water from the tank up above, leaving some money in the donation box as a thank you. The food was good but I definitely wouldn't have felt comfortable being there by myself, Mike’s Place was a little...dirt baggy, but I’m glad I got to experience it all the same. Apparently Scott is hiking now, and showed up at the campground in Idyllwild a few days later, drunk as a skunk and vomited all over 😂.

- We’re 10% done with the trail! Which really puts into perspective how long this hike actually is 😂. We had heard that our trail legs would start to come in after 3 weeks, but both Landon and I agree that we’re still quite sore and wake up with different aches and pains every day. We are definitely running a major calorie deficit at this point, burning upwards of 4K calories per day, burning much more than we are eating. This is ok with us, as we could both lose 30 Lbs or more and still be in a healthy weight range! Our friend Jamie, who hiked the trail years ago with her husband, says that we are losing our “town fat”. But we both agree that our clothes are feeling a bit looser than they were before. Who knew that 3 weeks of near continuous intense exercise would do that? We are slowly getting more fit, so hopefully those trail legs will come in soon here in the next few weeks.

- Remember the girl I talked about in our last post a few weeks ago, who woke up our friend at 5 AM and told him that she had no pants? Well, he came across her again a few days ago. She was topless, sitting in a stream in her underwear, playing a ukelele. And much to his chagrin, she remembered him! 😂 Not exactly a meet cute.

- Though there are definitely some eccentric people out here, 95% of the hikers and people we meet are wonderful. We have met the most incredible people as we hike, and are grateful to have made some good friends. They say that trauma bonds you, and all of the hikers have similar trauma out on trail 😂. We all know how hard this is, how beautiful, and have experienced first hand the heavy packs we carry after filling up our food and water, and the different aches and pains that accompany hiking day after day. Ive seen some pretty gnarly feet 🦶among the hikers out here, covered in blisters and cuts, with blackened toenails and foot fungus. Our feet are constantly getting beaten up! I’m glad to know that it isn’t just us experiencing the aches and pains. Ive always been a bit of a social butterfly, and after a year of isolation due to the Covid pandemic, the extrovert in me is absolutely loving the social aspect of our hike.

We will be getting off trail for four days this next weekend to go to a family wedding and sadly, a funeral as well. We were saddened to hear that Landon’s Grandfather has passed away, after suffering from Alzheimer’s for many years in the last years of his life. I never knew him before the Alzheimer’s had affected him, but I was told that he was smart as a whip, very funny, and a great story teller. Landon has fond memories of his grandfather, going on family trips and hearing his many stories. Even after the disease progression, Arlin was a very sweet and gentle man who was happy to give you a hug and listen to you talk, even if he didn’t quite remember who you were. We feel very lucky to have been able to spend some time with him and with Landon’s Grandmother the week before the trail, and he will be greatly missed by all. We are looking forward to getting off trail for a few days to reunite with our family to both celebrate and mourn together.

Thanks to everyone for the love and support in our PCT journey so far, this has been the most incredible experience of our lives so far and we’re grateful for every second, no matter how tough, of this great adventure.

- The Tueller’s

#pct #pct2021 #pctclassof2021 #tuellertrails #hikertrash

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notyetneedcoffee · 5 years ago

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Old Fashion Way Pt. 7

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None this chapter

When you finally unlocked your apartment door and kicked it closed behind you, you could barely stay on your feet. The entire SHIELD complex went through extreme screenings before being allowed to leave the building. You were starving. Because of the bullshit, you never got dinner.

Kicking off your shoes, you dropped your purse on the hall table on the way to kitchen. That’s when you noticed. The scarf covering the table was wrong side up. You flipped up the silky fabric and opened the little drawer in the front of the table. The few mementos you kept there had been moved.

A movie ticket stub. A dried rose. A sketch on a napkin. Someone went through your things. Thankfully, nothing in your apartment could be directly tied to Steve. Unless, they could recognize his sketch of a fox.

You looked around, feeling uneasy. SHIELD went through your home. What did they leave behind?

In the kitchen you ate leftovers, leaning against the kitchen counter. Your brain was moving too fast to even register what you ate. There was no way Steve would ever move against SHIELD without reason. You trusted him, more than any organization. Now your work, your organization, was after him.

You had to find a way to stay safe.

If anyone out for Steve knew about the two of you, well, you didn’t want to think about that. Grabbing your nightshirt, you shut off the lights and changed in the dark. Laying there, your mind wouldn’t shut down enough for sleep. However, by the time the sun was coming up, you had a plan.

Getting up and dressing for work as usual, you left a few minutes early. Stepping into your favorite coffee shop, you let the one other person go ahead of you. So you would be alone in the shop. “Hey, Mandy.” You smiled at your favorite barista.

“Morning.” She smiled. “Want your usual?”

“Yeah, please.” You stepped up to the counter. “Hey, could I ask you for a favor? Could I use your phone real quick? I pulled a bone-head move on my way here.” You showed her your old phone with a broken face.

“Sure,” Mandy unlocked her phone and handed it over. You stepped away and quickly dialed your sister’s number. She answered with a sleep fuzzy voice.

“I need you listen and do exactly as I say. This morning call my cell and my work leave priority messages. I need to come home. Dad’s in a bad way.”

There was a momentary silence. Then she responded, clear and clipped. “Got it. Talk to you soon.”

You hung up. Her husband spent eight years working for the DOD. The whole family knew how to respond to an emergency and get the details later.

Handing the phone back to Mandy, you also gave her your coffee money and a generous tip. “Thanks for the help.”

“No worries. Have a great day!”

The morning went as planned. You received phone calls from your sister and then you put in for three weeks of emergency leave. Almost immediately, Angela arrived at your office door demanding you follow her. She led you to a small conference room, where you were left alone for more than three hours.

One of the agents finally came in, a folder in hand. He sat across from you. You leaned forward, spinning your empty coffee cup slowly in your hands. “Going to tell me why I’ve wasted half a morning here when I’ve got so much to do?”

“It’s a rather suspect time to put in for an emergency leave of absence." He replied.

You sighed. “It’s not, really. Dad’s been going downhill for some time.” You frowned. “You ever taken care of someone with Alzheimer’s? It’s awful. It’s exhausting, and it can go to shit at a moment’s notice.” You frowned hard at the agent. “I’ve got tons of leave on the books. Time that the agency owes me. This is my family. Are you going to make me chose between my family and my job, agent?”

“The timing is...inconvenient.”

“I’ll be sure to let my dad’s doctors know.” You swallowed, not having to fake your nervousness. “Don’t make me quit over this. Please. I don’t want to leave SHIELD and I sure as hell don’t want to sue because I was forced to quit under duress despite policy.”

“When were you planning to travel?” The agent opened the folder and clicked his pen.

“Nothing’s booked yet. Tomorrow sometime, next morning at the latest. There are several flights from DC to Seattle.”

“You’ll be gone how long?”

“I don’t know. I put in for three weeks. May be more, or less.”

“Where will you be staying?”

“Not sure yet.”

At that the agent gave you a suspicious look.

“My sister’s place is small. Emotions are running high. I may be there. I may get a hotel. I won’t know until I’m there. It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time to plan this.”

“Very well.” He closed the file, never writing a word. “Take your work phone in case any current activities require your input. Your leave is granted.” He stood up and walked to the door. “You’re free to go back to work now, and...” He paused in the door, glancing back. “I remember how rough my grandmother’s dementia was. I’m sorry.”

You were home packing after finding the latest flight you could justify taking. By nine o’clock tomorrow morning you would be on a plane to the Northwest. The scuttlebutt at work only got worse. No one at SHIELD seemed willing to outwardly say anything, but you gathered enough bits and pieces yesterday to hear Steve supposedly went rouge, Director Fury might be dead, there was a terrorist attack on one of the major roadways in Bethesda that wasn’t really a terrorist, and Agent Romanoff was missing.

Getting the hell out of Dodge was looking better all the time.

Your personal phone rang. Unidentified number. “Hello?”

“Sweetheart, don’t say anything but yes or no. Just listen.” Steve’s clipped voice came quietly over the phone. “You know I didn’t do what they say I did.”

“Yeah.” Your heart was in your throat. You had so many questions, wanted to say so many things.

“Things are bad, really bad. You need to get away from there. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” You answered, more determined.

Steve paused. “You already have, huh?”

“Yep”

“Good girl. Thank God.” He breathed. “Can you lay low someplace? Not at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Nearby?”

“No.”

He knew about your family. “West coast?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Really good.”

You could hear Steve breathing as you waited for him to continue. His voice dropped down to a whisper. “I don’t know how this is all going to turn out, but just in case, I need to let you know how much I... You brought part of me back to life that I thought died with that plane crash... thank you, Sweetheart, just thank you.”

You swallowed back tears, biting your lip to keep from saying all the things you desperately wanted to. The realization that this might be the last time you spoke with him, just hit you so hard that it stole every bit of breath from your lungs.

He heard your light gasp, a small sniffle. “It’s okay. Alright? You’ll be okay. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

The phone went dead.

You hung up and tried to swallow down your tears, you still didn’t know if your apartment was bugged our not. Instead, you finished packing, moving on autopilot. The band of pain wrapped around your chest made breathing difficult. You schooled your face to an impassive calm, much like you did when you dealt with your father. No outward pain to see.

Finally, the suitcase zipped up, you moved to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. Scalding hot water beat down over your head, poured over your face, as the pain unwound. Tears mingled with the water. You silently cried, wept for what you could be losing, released the tears from the tension and fear, until the water ran cold. Once dry and ready for bed, exhaustion pulled you into a deep sleep.

You’d gotten to the airport with plenty of time only to find out your flight had a two hour mechanical delay. So, you waited, and waited. Sitting at the lounge, drinking coffee and watching the morning show on the television, you debated on ordering lunch. It looked like two hours was an optimistic estimate.

The local news cut in to the show with an emergency. Three enormous heli-carriers were battling each other over the city, over SHIELD. You called out. “Hey! Turn that up!”

The bartender turned up the volume.

“...also getting reports of a massive data dump from somewhere within SHIELD. All initial indications seem to show that the Hydra infiltration included key positions, including the top director.”

Another news anchor cut in. “They’re going down! The carriers are indeed crashing. I sincerely hope anyone in the vicinity have been evacuated. We can see debris falling in all directions. The reports that Captain America led the team to stand against whatever the Hydra action may have been are yet to be substantiated. There are no official communications coming from any of our sources.”

You watched in horror as the heli-carrier busted apart and exploded, falling from the sky. One of the television anchor’s word rang in your ear. “Let hope he wasn’t aboard, because I don’t know how anyone could survive that.”

The phone in your pocket vibrated, making you jump. You looked at the number. Your sister’s. “Hey.”

“On the news. That’s why you’re coming home, isn’t it? You knew something was going to happen.” She sounded frantic.

“I knew something, but not this. I had no idea it was this bad.” You stared at the screen, unable to look away. Please, you silently prayed, let Steve survive.

“You didn’t know? Had no idea?”

“Of course not!” You snapped.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Your sister huffed. “You got a heads up, though. You were running.”

“Yeah.” You looked around, seeing you were alone and figuring there was no point in secrecy any more you answered. “I saw them, from my office, try to gun down Steve. He’s my friend and I know him well enough that he would never move against his superiors unless they deserved it.”

“Wait,” She paused. “Steve? Steve Rogers. You’re friends with...”

“Yes. Good friends. I trust him and I really hope he’s okay.” You curled into your seat, watching the footage on the screen.

“Are you still coming?”

The question took you by surprise. You really didn’t have to, not yet. Of course, you didn’t know if you even had a job now. “I think I need to figure a few things out first.”

“Okay, let me know. And sis, stay in touch. I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t worry me.”

“Promise.” You hung up, paid your bill and went to the counter to change your ticket.

It was late evening before you gave up and checked into a ridiculously expensive hotel room. Traffic was impossible. The city was on lock down. Every hotel room was taken. No one was moving. Still, it was relatively safe, food was available, and your credit card could handle the expense.

Flopping on the bed, you contemplated pulling out your computer to find more information while you ate room service. The news had been non-stop speculation. The details being pulled from the data dump were becoming more salacious. Still, none of it gave you what you wanted.

Close to midnight your phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, uh, is this Y/N?” A deep male voice asked.

“Who is this?” You knew that voice but couldn’t place it.

“Yeah that’s you. This is Sam.”

“Sam.” You breathed. You’d only met him the one time, when Steve brought him over to help you move.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that our, uh, mutual friend is alive and healing up.”

A whoosh of air left your body. “Thank god.”

“Don’t know how long it will be. Don’t know how messy the red tape is going to get either. Still, I thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” Tears, not so painful now, ran down your face. You could wait. Steve was alive.

TAGS

@rainbowkisses31 / @dsakita / @geeksareunique / @lbouvet / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @theneuropsychwriter / @vanillabunn21 / @sammghgecko / @beautifullungs / @badassbaker / @the-omni-princess / @sebbysstangirl / @jesseswartzwelder / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @the-reading-octopus / @bangtan-serendipity / @kiki5283 / @mindtravelsx / @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines / @patzammit / @thegetawaywriter / @nova3312 / @vxidnik / @jennmurawski13 / @wildmoonflower / @rynabarnesrogers / @notyourtypicalrose / @sllooney / @wwe-fanfiction-queen / @thorfanficwriter / @scarlettsoldier / @morganhoran1671 / @michelehansel / @sexyvixen7 / @readermia

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers angst

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pidgetyy · 4 years ago

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My application for The Underpass, a roleplay hosted by @fireflythenightlight (and which I found through my dear friend @validwofjobs). Legacy is a mostly-human, slightly-pheonix girl who loves planning ahead, making new friends, and her two identical pet giant geckos, Lychee the pet leachie and Guinep the familiar leachie-salamander. The rest about her can be found in these incoming walls of text under the cut!

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Backstory-

Legacy grew up with an older and younger sister, the treasured “only son” of her parents, especially her father. Her name, before she realized she wasn’t a boy and chose a new name for herself, was Terrence. Her family lived in an apartment above a pet reptile store, run by her father. She got her familiar, Guinep, as well as her beloved pet, Lychee, when she was 8. She bonded with Guinep especially as her familiar, but the identical Lychee received plenty of love too, and in the first few years she had trouble telling apart the identical and closely bonded New Caledonian Giant Geckos by anything other than their temperament- Guinep was very calm, but Lychee tended to be a lot more snappish. Lychee followed Guinep’s lead in warming up to Legacy quickly, but remains a little aggressive towards strangers.

Legacy was almost 15 when she finally admitted to herself that she didn’t think she was really a boy, after two years of suppressing and refusing to believe her own feelings. She began to grow her hair out, and stared longingly at the girl’s section of stores, but didn’t dare to expose her identity to her parents, whose reactions she couldn’t predict in the slightest. After about a year and a half of planning and psyching herself up, she finally had the guts to come out to her parents. The fallout didn’t come to the extremes she’d read many a horror story of online, of physical abuse or conversion therapy, but her parents still refused to acknowledge her preferred pronouns or name, and began to threaten homeschooling her, to keep “their only son” away from “the influence of those queer friends of yours.” She refused to be homeschooled, and her parents responded that, if she insisted on this, then they wouldn’t be paying college tuition for a daughter they didn’t have. Upset to say the least, she haphazardly packed the belongings she thought of first and could fit in her backpack, and left. It was the largest decision she had made in her life, and it was completely unplanned.

Her grandma on her mother’s side lived in a small house halfway across the city, and Legacy hoped her parents hadn’t shared the news with her about her identity, because she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It came as a surprise not that her grandmother knew, but she actually accepted Legacy, scoffing and asking her to “give me your real name, girl” when she introduced herself grudgingly as Terrence. For the next few months, she lived there happily, upset about some of the belongings she had forgotten to bring but definitely not willing to go back to her parents, who didn’t bother to come find her (after her grandmother had sternly told them over the phone not to come unless they were going to treat their daughter right). Her grandmother bought her real girl’s clothes, and even helped her dye her hair a bright shade of bubblegum pink she’d had her eyes on for months. She finished highschool a semester early, something she had already been planning to do since before coming out. Her grandmother, unfortunately, was starting to decline in her old age. She was in stage 4 of Alzheimer’s disease, beginning to get to stage 5, when she was finally deemed no longer able to care for herself and was placed in an elderly person’s home to be cared for. By that summer, Legacy was back on the streets, preferring them against going back to her parents.

She took a job as the sole member of the “Maintenance Crew” of a cafe/coffee shop in a slightly busier part of the city in order to pay for her own living necessities and her leachie’s. From age 17 to the start of rp, Legacy worked there, cleaning up spills, keeping tabs of what sanitary supplies needed restocking, and keeping the rest of the shop sanitary. She made use of the keys she had to the shop, coming in before dawn, and definitely before opening hours, to clean the shop and then to clean herself, and fix her hair to look presentable. On particularly cold nights, she would spend the night there, more to keep her beloved pets warm than for any other reason. Though her high body temperature was usually enough to keep herself and the leachies warm, she didn’t want to risk any of them getting sick on especially stormy or windy winter nights. Most nights, she would instead find a friend happy to lend a couch for the night, or a fellow homeless person she trusted enough to watch her back while she slept next to, for safety reasons.

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Personality-

Legacy is a generally cautious and consistent person. She sticks to her daily routine and her plans rather than acting spontaneously without thought. Unexpected changes and surprises are strongly disliked, because she hates being unprepared for something and sometimes has trouble dealing with surprise changes to her own plans because of that. Besides not being a big fan of practical jokes, she tries not to act outwardly uptight or prissy in social situations, even if her careful organization, tidiness and plans may make her seem like it. Most people wouldn’t pinpoint her as a homeless kid if they saw her, because she dedicates a considerable amount of time and money to making herself look very clean and neat. Half of the backpack she wears is filled with two other outfits, which she mixes-and-matches often. When she feels like a fashion change is in order, she’ll donate some clothes and buy new replacements for them at a local clothing exchange store.

Her careful and well-put-together nature stems from a deep fear of making mistakes. Legacy hates the thought that she might make some mistake, do something wrong that could ruin her life as it is now, or change it beyond recognition (even if the change was for the better). So instead, she chooses inactivity. Though she could probably find a permanent place to live if she got a second job and saved carefully, she doesn’t, and instead spends most of her paycheck on unnecessary things like new clothes when she no longer needs it to buy food and water for her and her pets. She waited and planned for over a year to come out to her parents, and it still didn’t end well, so now she just tries to avoid taking any risks like that again (besides hiding her gender- she’s definitely done doing that. She presents as female and uses her real, chosen name. Most people don’t even realize she wasn’t born a girl). Legacy prefers to be a follower in social situations, rather than a leader. That way, she’s less likely to take the brunt of the consequences if a wrong decision is made. Safer. She prefers being safe, and right now her routine and life is safe and predictable, so she doesn’t see a need to change it or plan to end up anywhere else in her life.

Her caution about life decisions and other areas doesn’t quite extend to the social side of her life, however. Legacy’s a people person and a definite extrovert. She likes to surround herself with new friends at any chance she gets, and has a great memory for faces and personal details. Since middle school, she hasn’t forgotten a friend’s birthday or favorite color. Stranger’s opinions generally don’t have the power to change your whole life around, so with that low-risk assessment of friendship Legacy goes at making friends with a sort of wild abandon. Her charisma isn’t exactly impressive, but that doesn’t matter when she can just walk away and try again with someone else if the first person doesn’t seem to like her all that much. Even though she could listen to details about a person she barely knows for hours, and loves to learn new details about anyone, she’s dismissive of people’s opinions, especially if they’re about her. Few people have ever managed to become such an ingrained part of Legacy’s life as to earn the title of “Friend I actually care about and will make an effort not to lose.” Legacy shows up at many a party, flitting between groups for a while usually before finding someone she likes enough to hang out with for the rest of the night or couch-crash with, but refuses to get any farther than slightly tipsy even if the drinks are free. Being drunk is far too risky a thing for her to ever have attempted, even as tempting as it sometimes was. Party-going and friend-making are a few items on the short list of things she rarely, if ever, plans for.

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Extra Facts™-

-She is, by a small percentage, a Phoenix hybrid (1/8th, or 12.5 percent to be precise) by her great-grandmother on her mother’s mother’s side. She doesn’t have the identifying wings because of her lack of more phoenix-hybrid ancestors, but does have the noticeably higher body temperature and small flame-producing ability. She doesn’t have a ton of control over the flames, and they’re likely to appear, purposefully or not, when she’s feeling strong emotions.

-her favorite color is, by far, pink. Second is light green.

-Partially because of favorite-color influence, partially because of its sweet flavor, her favorite food is watermelon.

-She isn’t a vegetarian, but she generally doesn’t like meat very much.

-She wishes she had the spare money to afford an instrument. Legacy used to play the flute in her middle school band, and loved it, but she left it behind in her parent’s house.

-Lawful neutral

-She’s a Libra (her birthday is September 28th)

#the underpass #underpass rp #underpass application #original rp #original story

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joannie95 · 5 years ago

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Legacy Part- 24

Pairing: Carter! reader x ?????

Summary: Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who could have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.

A/N: I try to do as much research about Alzheimer’s to get everything as accurate as I can, so if there is something that seems incorrect I am so sorry I hope I don’t offend anyone if anything is incorrect

A/N: So maybe the website I used was wrong but when I looked up Peggy’s brother it showed that Sharon is also his great niece, that didn’t make sense to me because wouldn’t he be her grandfather? So I decided to create a sister for Peggy, Delores “Dot” Louise Carter and she will be Sharon’s grandmother.

Warnings: Angst, talk of Alzheimer’s and forgetfulness caused by it

Story assisted by @welldonebeca proofread by @hermionie-is-my-queen and thank you to @sarahp879 for helping me figure out the correct accent to use

You were able to convince Nick to let Darcy take a short leave after some persuasion, and your younger friend had just joined you for dinner with your grandmother.

“How has everything been going since I’ve been gone?” Darcy looked up at you as she chopped the last of the vegetables.

“It’s been ok,” you grabbed some dishes from the cabinet above you. “Grandma hasn’t been forgetting things as often and when she does, it’s usually the little things, and occasionally she calls me by mom’s name. That’s always a little difficult.“ You walked to the table, mindlessly setting it. “I just try to go with it as much as possible, the last thing I’d want to do is upset her about it.”

Darcy opened her mouth, ready to answer when your grandmother walked in.

“Dot, is dinner almost ready?” She seemed to stop in her place once she saw you and Darcy. “Oh, hello. I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a guest.”

It took you a second to figure out who Dot was and when it hit you, you felt an immense pain in your chest. She thought you were her sister Dolores.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, this is my American friend Darcy,” you said, trying to keep your best South London accent. “I met her when I was in New York. She and her family were in the area so I invited her for dinner.”

Darcy looked at you for a second and you saw the sadness in her eyes as she furrowed her brows before putting on a calm expression.

“Hi, it’s so good to meet you,” She tried to sound cheerful, but you could make out a hint of hurt behind it. “Dot has told me so much about you.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well, Darcy.” You saw a look of joy from just meeting your friend. “Please have a seat, I’ll get you a drink. How are you liking London?”

“It’s wonderful, it’s a nice change from New York.”

That was how the rest of your dinner continued. You acted as if you were your great aunt Dolores to appease your grandmother’s current state of mind, and Darcy just went along with it, you wish she never had to be apart of that.

“Should we talk about what just happened?” Darcy questioned you when you were alone, handing you the dirty dishes.

"We can talk about it once we leave.”

The situation was normal for you but she’d never experienced anything like that before. Once everything was cleaned the two of you joined your grandmother in the living room. You wanted to be careful in case she wasn’t back to herself just yet.

“Grandma?"

She looked up from the book she was reading.

You smiled at her when you saw the look of recognition on her face.

"Darcy and I are gonna get going and let you get some sleep.” You each walked up to her, gave her a hug and said your goodbyes before leaving to go back to your apartment.

The car ride was very quiet and once you were home Darcy let out a deep breath.

“That was intense, I don’t know how you can deal with that. It hurt that she didn’t recognize me, I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

You dropped onto your couch and put your feet up.

“Honestly, it’s really hard, and it hurts so much, but I can’t make this about me. When my parents died she dropped everything to take care of me, and now it’s my turn to take care of her. If that means going along with acting like whoever she thinks I am, then so be it.”

She sat next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“If you ever need anything you call me and I’ll be here. Always.”

You were grateful to have her as a friend but most importantly as a sister.

The rest of the week went by in the blink of an eye. Darcy had to get back to her base and you returned to work. Phil had been avoiding you all day and you weren’t sure why, but you managed to corner him in his office.

You cross your arms and stare him down.

"Alright Phil what’s your deal.“

"I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He averted his eyes, looking everywhere but at you.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me, I know you’ve been avoiding me so just tell me now because you know I’ll find out one way or another."

You could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest and see the sweat dripping down his face. You heard him mumble something, he may have thought you didn’t hear him but you did and you were beyond mad.

You marched into the training room, in the far corner you saw her sparring with two other rookies. You made your way to them and gave the two rookies a look that told them to get the hell out of your sight. They both stopped what they were doing and ran out.

"You really can’t let me have anything to myself can you Sharon. Everything I have, everything I do you need to take for yourself.”

“Excuse me but-” she started talking before you interrupted her.

“No. I talk you listen. Why are you even here? You showed no interest in SHIELD until you heard I wanted to take part in it. This is my family’s legacy, and you. You’re not even a Carter. You took the name because all you cared about was where that name would get you.” You may have been a bit harsh but you didn’t care. You’ve put up with her long enough. “Your grandma Delores Louise Carter married Richard Elsner. Your mother married Christopher Miller, you gave up your last name and took mine, just like you took everything else. Do you really think you belong here?"

You turned around and started to walk away when you sensed she was gonna go in for a punch. You turned around and blocked it, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. You turned, wrapped your arm around her neck and flipped her over your shoulder. You pinned her down. She struggled but you didn’t budge.

"Don’t mess with me, because I promise you’ll regret it.”

Legacy Tags:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @a-dancing-hufflepuff @annoylinglyaries @avngrsinitiative @bradfordsgreekgod @babypink224221 @captainam-erika-trash @carisi-sonny @chook007 @cosmiccomicloverqueen @daniellajocelyn @doctoranon @ecamille-xo @editsbyjenny @ellieababy @futuremissstark @gummiwormsandonedirection @henrietteoaks @hermionie-is-my-queen @ineedmorefanfics @isabella-bby @jaemingold @junitorials13 @katykyll @klanceiscannon14 @littlephoenix-fire @lovemarvelousfics @l0kisbitch @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson @magnificentsoulecollector @mikariell95 @mistressoftorture @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos @paintballkid711 @pastelpurplexoox @princessizzy36 @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete @starstruckgardenstudentzonk @stuckyandsciencebros @thatweirdchick147 @tienna-laufeeyson16 @wishiwasanavenger @xalinx @zaza-jones @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

#peggy carter x reader #peggy carter x you #peggy carter x y/n #Avengers #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengers series #avengers x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #marvel #legacy

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bbygrgu · 5 years ago

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drabble b.b

a/n: I did another drabble. not super pleased but one those of things I just needed to get off my chest.

Soft music played from the record player, vinyl’s from the boxes found in the attic. It brought a smile upon your face, your soft humming joining the trumpet and the soft melodic voice.

There were boxes upon boxes, years and names etched on the sides with what seemed to be black ink, but from one of those pens that your grandma refused to let go or a permeant marker, you weren’t sure. You assumed the former.

They were mostly filled with old papers, the boxes labeled “clothes” saved for another day. Those were something that you wanted to take your time with, maybe picking out a few classics from your grandmother’s old wardrobe to keep for yourself. You smiled, laughing softly to yourself.

Three boxes down, hundreds more to go. You set aside those that needed documents that were due for a shredding and those you knew were meant to be kept, whether it be to be digitalized or just for the sake of keeping it. Moving around the little maze of stacks of boxes, you headed towards the back. Maybe you could find a box with more than receipts or bills.

You stopped in curiously when you spotted a box in the corner. It wasn’t a part of a stack, just by itself. You could see the layer of dust sitting on the lid of the box with no year scribbled against the side, only a name. Bucky.

Bucky. The name was alien coming out of your mouth. You quickly snapped a picture of the box, calling out to your father from the stairs. With no response, you quickly jogged down the steps and searched until you saw your dad kneeling in the kitchen, carefully wrapping your grandma’s china in newspaper and placing it into the box.

“Dad,” you repeated again. He looked up, a small smile on his lips. His eyes sad, you knew this was hurting him, but you couldn’t help your curiosity from bubbling.

“Dad, who was Bucky?” You asked, pulling out your phone and scrolling to the picture app. You turned your phone towards him, picture of the lonesome box with the dust and the lone name “Bucky.”

“Did you open it?” your dad questioned. A shake of your head as your response.

“Might be your great uncle’s things,” your dad responded, placing the piece of china that was in his hands into the box. He carefully pushed himself to his feet and brushed past you, you close behind him.

“Great uncle?”

“Your grandmother had an older brother. His name was James Buchanan Barnes. She always called him Bucky. She talked him about him once in a while, when we were growing up. He started coming up more while she… you know,” your dad admitted softly.

Alzheimer’s. You looked away, eyes shifting back to the box. You remember her mentioning the name Bucky, but you never questioned who he was. It hurt to see your grandma in that state, always wondering what days she would be lucid.

You looked at your dad, seeing him glance around at the maze of the boxes, slowly stepping closer to the box. You kneeled down, sharply inhale. Another look thrown over your shoulder to see your dad picking through a box labeled “new house, nineteen sixty-one.” Carefully, you pick up the lid and place it beside the box.

The first thing you see is a yellowed envelope, sent to Rebecca Barnes, your grandma’s old address from Brooklyn right below.

With gentle hands, you held the envelope. The return address was directed to the DOA, Department of the Army. You carefully flipped the envelope, holding the flap open and pulling out two pieces of paper.

The first was a yellowed, almost brown telegraph from Western Union. The date was 1944, the month and date no longer eligible for reading. You skimmed the document, taking in Bucky’s full name, along with “missing in action” and “Captain America.”

“Captain America?” you whispered to yourself, unfolding the second yellowed page. This one was on a piece of stationary. The writing was elegant, thin and with light-strokes. You quickly turned the back and noticed a faded drawing done in pencil. You turned back to the front, skimming over it and stopping when you noticed the signature at the bottom. Steve Rogers. Captain America.

You remembered studying him during the World War II portions of your history classes.

“Dad? Great Uncle Bucky knew Captain America?” You asked softly, setting the letters aside and looking into the box.

“They were friends since they were kids. Your grandma used to tell you about him when you asked her about the war and everyday life,” your dad retells while you’re looking a picture. Weird how long-term memories are buried deep in your mind and how you can’t access all of them.

There was a picture of you could only assume was Bucky. He was handsome. The image was in black and white, almost sepia. He was in his uniform, his cap tilted on his head, a soft smile on his face. You smiled at the image held in your fingertips.

You peeked past the image and saw clothes, personal items.

“Grandma didn’t get his dog tags?” You called out, picking placing everything back in the box before carefully putting the lid back on.

“No, they never recovered them, I think,” your dad replied, pushing himself up from the floor. You waited for him, box (which was surprisingly light) against your hip.

You’re ready to say something until both your phones go off with news notifications bells. You look at him confusedly, both pulling your phones off at the same time. An audible gasp leaving you both.

“S.H.I.E.LD. information out in the open to the public. HYDRA responsible for dozens of assassinations. Work of the Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes.”

#drabble #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic

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prep-radio · 4 years ago

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Thuremix.

Over the past two years, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that mental illness, as much as I want to believe in my own immunity, is inevitable. Be it ourselves or our loved ones, we all succumb to some form of involvement. And there are times we don’t know what to do. We seek help, get treatment. We look for therapists and psychiatrists and nutritionists and rehabilitators and higher powers and piers, and we want to believe that some culmination of these things will be enough.

That’s just it though - sometimes enough is unachievable. In the same way our universe is expanding faster than we will ever be physically capable of keeping up with, sometimes our minds are so far past the point of no return; whomever we were before has been locked away permanently. And this realization comes with grief, a grieving of the life that once was, a grieving of innocence. We need to go through the stages of loss of a whole identity, and accept that it will never return.

That loss of the mentally well identity is the single closest thing to death a living person will ever experience.

For myself, this came in the form of untreated severe depression that over the course of five years permanently damaged my brain. For 5.8 million Americans and their families, this comes in the form of Alzheimer’s disease.

It is harder to find someone who has not been personally affected by Alzheimer’s than it is to find someone who has. I lost my paternal grandmother to the disease. By age 13, I knew for sure she was absolutely gone. She would repeat the same stories over and over - I later found out from relatives that all of these stories were fabricated by her - and any chance I had to connect with her as an older child / teenager was nonexistent. She sometimes didn’t know she was in a room full of her family. Sometimes she knew there was a young person with her and she had to care for them as a mother of four, grandmother of nine, and at the time of her passing great-grandmother of ten. (Yes, I am her grandchild but not her great grandchild. My cousins have children my age. Long story) However, she didn’t know who anyone was. All relationships were severed without anyone’s consent, not even hers.

Nobody can for certain describe the experience of someone with late stage Alzheimer’s; whomever is damned to suffer through it cannot communicate their experiences - it would be like vocally asking someone who is deaf to explain what they hear. All we can conclude is that if by mid-stage dementia a patient faces confusion, reduced cognitive ability, sensory deprivation, depression, and panic; and we know it gets far worse afterwards, then what they’re going through must be the most unimaginable pain: eternal loneliness, and never resolving their life’s regrets - stuck in their thoughts, or lack thereof, for what can be what seems like an indeterminate amount of time, since we don’t know how Alzheimer’s affects time perception.

youtube

This is only a guess.

It has been theorized that the last memories to be affected in an Alzheimer’s patient are those relating to music, so it makes sense to depict the process with music. The Caretaker’s series of six albums each describe one of the stages of Alzheimer’s, and this video provides a description for each, so I won’t go into detail here.

There is a song called “Heartaches” by Al Bowlly sampled in the album several times, and each time it comes up you can compare the level of deterioration. I’d recommend listening to it first so you can detect samples of it in the album (in Alzheimer’s terms, this is stage 0).

youtube

If you are planning on sitting down and listening to the full six and a half hours in one go, I would recommend not doing so if you are having a bad mental health day. The thoughts of death and dementia can worsen depression, so do this when you’re in an objective mindset.

And then go find the memes. Millennials and Gen Z are good at laughing in the face of suffering.

The battle against Alzheimer’s will be won with a sword made of gold. Please consider donating so we can cure this disease worse than death.

Enjoy today, it will become “only yesterday.”

#the caretaker #everywhere at the end of time #eateot #electro #electronic #noise music #Alzheimer’s #dementia #memory loss #memories #full album #YouTube #music #thuremix

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adnauseums · 5 years ago

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Soldier On - Prologue

Title: Soldier On - Prologue

Word Count: 1906 words (oops)

Description: The first eight years of Elizabeth Carter’s life are filled with happy memories but despite the joy felt, Lizzie can’t help but regret the words she never got to say to her mother and the dread she feels directed towards her impending, world-shattering, life change.

Pairings: Avengers x Barnes!OFC, Bucky Barnes x daughter!OFC

Warnings: Mentions of violence, childbirth, unplanned pregnancy, labor complications, character deaths, Infinity War spoilers, Endgame spoilers, explicit language, and violence.

A/N: Hello all, Bella, here! This has been brewing in my head for a long, long time and I’m finally putting pen to paper and writing this shit! Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list for this through an ask and I will certainly add you!! OH AND BY THE WAY: STEVE AND SHARON WERE NEVER A THING IN THIS. The series was inspired by the song Soldier On by The Temper Trap, however, the chapter was inspired by the song Words by Skylar Grey. Jenna Coleman is my play-by for Maggie Carter, and Elizabeth’s play-by is Summer Fontana as a child (from 4-11) and Danielle Rose Russell as a teenager (12 and on) And lastly, translations!

ангел = angel

моя сладкая детка = my sweet baby

Tag List: @papi-chulo-bucky @viktordrago And open for more!

2009

“There we go, easy does it, darling!” Peggy encouraged, laughing as the contraction, the final contraction, ended. Eighty-eight years old to the day, and she was still alive and kicking, and she’d be damned if she’d miss this event of all the days and weeks. The birth of her great-grandchild. With one last, drawn-out scream, Maggie collapsed onto the bed behind her, chest heaving as Peggy’s face changed from that of happiness to one of concern. Sharon gently wiped her cousin’s face with a cool cloth, and Maggie tried to sit up.

Maggie Carter was in unbearable pain. From her first heartbreak to her horrendous torture in the hands of HYDRA, the crippling anxiety and fear possessing her at that very moment. The baby wasn’t crying. “W-What is it? W-Why isn’t she crying?” Maggie asked. Sharon gently forced her to lay back down and looked to her great-uncle. He looked just as concerned at the unresponsiveness of the newborn as everyone else was, and he shut off the video camera, placing it on the bedside table and hurrying to his wife’s aid. “Why isn’t she crying?” Maggie repeated, more firmly this time.

Peggy made quick work of the situation, opening the small infant’s mouth and clearing the airway, putting her mouth to the baby girl’s, gently blowing five quick breaths into her, and by doing so, into her lungs. She repeated it, before calling for the midwife on hand, who was about to take the baby when, like a miracle, a wet, pitchy wail sprung forth from the newborn’s lips.

A wave of relief passed over the room, and Peggy begrudgingly handed the newborn to the midwife looked back up to her granddaughter, who was struggling to sit up, “W-Where are you taking her?”

Maggie’s grandfather held her shoulders gently, but firmly, ensuring that she couldn’t go anywhere. “She needs to be taken to the NICU, sweetheart,” Peggy said softly.

Maggie dissolved into tears, gripping the arms of her grandpa, shaking her head, “I-Is she going to be okay? I-I-I- n-need to h-hold her,” She sobbed.

Steve smoothed back his granddaughter’s brown locks, plastered to her forehead with beads of sweat. He took the wet cloth from Sharon and wiped her forehead, “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, Maggie,” He said softly, kissing the top of her head, “She’s gonna be just fine. It’s in her blood. She’s a fighter, just like her mom.”

- 2010

This first year seemed to be a rollercoaster of firsts, and of course, it was, it wasn’t as though Maggie was impervious to the constraints of time, but she didn’t like how quickly Lizzie was growing. Maggie loved having a baby, but with Lizzie’s health problems the first few months were trying and terrifying, but, like Pops said, Lizzie was just fine. And, like always, he was right. After all, he was and his health conditions growing up were tenfold the severity of Lizzie’s.

Balancing a one-year-old and a stack of unopened plastic plates, Maggie made her way to the dinging doorbell with an exasperated sigh, “Just a minute!” She called, walking in from the kitchen and into the living room, making her way over to the front door. With one elbow and her rambunctious infant tugging on her hair, Maggie somehow managed to open the door. She grinned, dark circles under her eyes in preparation for today’s festivities. “Oh, Margaret, I swear,” Peggy exclaimed, shaking her head. She moved to take Elizabeth from Maggie, which Maggie allowed with a groan. Steve followed his wife, giving his granddaughter an apologetic look.

“Nan, I’m an adult, a mother even, I can manage myself quite we-” Peggy interrupted her.

“-You look exhausted, Maggie,” She stated. “I told you your granddad and I would help you set up. You’re working yourself into the ground.” Elizabeth squealed, clapping her hands, and Peggy laughed, kissing the infant’s forehead, “Yes, she is,” Peggy cooed, kissing Lizzie’s cheek three times before looking back at Maggie. “I just wish you’d let others help you, dear, that’s all.”

Steve chucked, “In all fairness, doll, you weren’t much different than Mags at your age.”

Maggie gave her grandmother a look, “Ha! See? It’s not my fault, it’s genetic,” She said with a triumphant smirk. “You have the video camera, Granddad?” Maggie asked him as he moved to take Liz from Peggy.

Elizabeth squealed once more, gently hitting Steve’s chest in the only way a baby could get away with, and Steve laughed, patting the infant’s back with one hand as he dug the camera out of his jacket pocket, “Always.” He stated.

“Maggie,” Peggy started, smiling brightly at Elizabeth, “Did I ever thank you for giving me the best birthday gift in the world?”

- 2011

“No, no, no! Elizabeth Margaret Carter, stop that this instant!” Maggie exclaimed firmly. The toddler paused momentarily to spare her mother a glance as Maggie stood from her place on the couch and made her way to the kitchen to stop her. Arms outstretched with her bowl of spaghettios, Elizabeth looked from her mother to the bowl in front of her, giggling as she threw it onto the ground with all her might.

“Elizabeth!”

- 2012

“Mommy?” The auburn-haired girl squeaked from the doorway.

Maggie sat up in her bed, lightning cracking from outside. It illuminated the dark room, revealing Elizabeth’s tear-stained face, “Oh, Liz, come here, darling.” She said softly, prompting Elizabeth to toddle forward. Maggie reached down and picked her up, placing her next to her on the bed. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Th-The wightning.” She muttered, burying her face in the crook of her mother’s neck.

“Oh, my sweet love, it’s alright,” Maggie soothed, rubbing Liz’s back as she rocked her back and forth. “You can sleep with me tonight,” She stated, pulling back the covers, “Go on then,” Maggie kissed Lizzie’s forehead, “Wriggle down in there. Nothing’s gonna hurt you while Mummy’s here.”

- 2013

Ordinary days were few and far between for the Carter girls. They’d go visit Maggie’s grandmother and Lizzie’s great-grandmother, Peggy, in her home, where her Alzheimers seemed to worsen with every week that passed, however, today hadn’t been one of those days. Nan had been fine and happy, visiting with her great-granddaughter, and now, tired out, Elizabeth was laid down for her routine nap, sucking her thumb as she clutched her blanket to her face. Maggie sighed and smiled contently, cracking the door to her daughter’s bedroom door before swiftly exiting. And that’s when the knock sounded at the door, sending a chill down Margaret’s spine.

She grabbed the pistol from her purse, a million thoughts surging through her head. They moved for this reason, every year without fail. So they couldn’t be followed or found by HYDRA. Maggie had narrowly escape the Winter Soldier’s fate herself, and from their dalliance and his aid in her escape, she’d begot Elizabeth. Her sweet, sweet Elizabeth. Maggie cracked the front door open slightly, peeking out and resting her eyes on a slim redhead, “May I help you?” Maggie asked sharply, gun at the ready behind the door. She looked familiar, and of course, she would as the redhead’s face frequented the news, but Maggie wasn’t taking any chances.

“Agent Margaret A. Carter? My name is Natasha Romanoff. Can I come in?”

- 2014

“Go on, ангел, it’s okay.” Natasha said with a sigh. Elizabeth rocked back and forth on her heels, clutching the straps of her little backpack as she looked up at her.

“But I’m scared, Aunt Tash. I don’t wanna.” She said softly. Natasha smiled softly, kneeling to Elizabeth’s height and encasing her in a hug.

“Listen, моя сладкая детка, I know you’re scared but you’ve gotta be a big girl for Aunt Tash, okay? I promised your mommy I’d get you safe and sound to school.” Natasha said softly.

“Mommy said that she was gonna be here,” Liz stated with a pout. Natasha smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead.

“I know, honey, but she’s gonna pick you up after school. This is exciting! It’s your first day, aren’t you excited too?” She asked brightly.

Elizabeth quickly shook her head, “Nuh-uh.”

Natasha sighed. She needed to pick Steve up, but with Maggie working the graveyard shift at the hospital she’d begged Nat to take Elizabeth to her first day of school. But she would be late picking Steve up, and he definitely didn’t need to know about Elizabeth or Maggie. “Okay, listen to me, squirt,” She looked around before whispering into Elizabeth’s ear. “Ten bucks if you’ll go inside.”

Elizabeth shook her head, crossing her arms, “Twenty. And ice cream after.”

Natasha kissed her head, standing back up, “You’ve got a deal, little miss.”

- Now

When did Maggie ever get her way? When she thought that 2017 was supposed to be a great year. Maggie couldn’t believe that Elizabeth was starting the third grade, and she was so excited about it, too. It broke Maggie’s heart that Elizabeth wanted her Aunt Tash to be there with her, but Maggie had to explain that it just wasn’t possible, not because of… well grown-up stuff (which is how Maggie explained it). Maggie refused to tell her anything other than the truth: that Natasha wouldn’t be coming back for a while.

They had a new apartment, a large apartment with three bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms in upstate New York, thanks to Nat’s friend Tony. He didn’t seem all too keen when he came to check on Maggie and Elizabeth, and Maggie didn’t know why that was and she certainly wasn’t about to ask, not even Granddad. She hadn’t spoken to Granddad in forever, not since Nan had passed per his requests. She sent him updates on herself and Lizzie on the regular, but something about the timeline was too delicate as it was. He needed to stay away, no matter how much he wanted to be there, and Margaret would adhere to his wishes and keep her mouth shut. After all, there was a reason she was Margaret Antonia Carter and not Rogers.

This was supposed to be the perfect year, but here she was, held at gunpoint by some agent as they waited for Elizabeth to get off the bus and trudge up to their apartment, happy as a clam. The lock jingled as Elizabeth undoubtedly unlocked the door. “Don’t make a sound or I’ll blow your brains out.” The agent hissed into Maggie’s ear. She knew her fate in that moment.

The door opened.

Elizabeth screamed, “Mommy!” and ran forward. The scream and movement of the young girl threw the agent off and he faltered in her grip. Maggie used this lack in the grip to kick the man in the gut, throwing the gun to the ground.

“Elizabeth, no! I need you to run!” She yelled, the man beginning to fight back. She managed to yell out, “FRIDAY, activate Emergency Protcal: H Y Delta R Alpha!”

“Shut up!” The agent yelled.

Elizabeth had started to cry, refusing to leave, “Mommy, what about yo-”

“Elizabeth, run! Don’t stop, no matter what you hear! Just run!” Elizabeth remained still.

“Mommy…”

“Run!” Maggie screamed at her. And she did. Elizabeth, sobbing, ran out of the front door and down the hallway, down the flights of steps of their apartment building and she didn’t stop.

Not even when three gunshots echoed throughout the building.

#soldier on series #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x ofc #avengers x barnes!ofc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #avengers angst #avengers fluff #marvel angst #marvel fluff #marvel series #infinity war spoilers #endgame spoilers #avengers series #bucky barnes series

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witcherislovewitcherislife · 5 years ago

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Steggy Weak 2019 Day 2: Favorite Moments

Favorite Moments:

1. Steve and Peggy finally getting their dance at the end of Avengers: Endgame.

Steve and Peggy are both the loves of each other’s lives and them finally getting to spend their life together makes me so happy. You can see how happy they both are during this scene. Steve is overcome with emotion just resting his head on Peggy’s while they sway to “It’s Been A Long, Long Time by Harry James and Helen Forrest”. And then they lock eyes, smile at each other and kiss.

Steve and Peggy have both had such rough lives and both of them finally getting the settle down and relax with the person they love is what they deserve most.

They finally get their dance and more importantly get to be together once again. Plus we get a Steggy kiss!! This moment is also amazing because Steve finally learns how to live without a war and put himself first.

I wish we got a whole movie of just them dancing. Seeing them finally together after all these years is truly one of the happiest moments of my life. I love these two with all my heart.

2. The car ride through Brooklyn before Steve’s transformation during Captain America: The First Avenger.

This is the first scene where we see Steve and Peggy directly interact and it delivers in every way. They are both so cute and Steve can’t stop tripping over his words. He even manages to call Peggy “beautiful” three times within one sentence. The head tilt she gives him while he is stuttering is one of my favorite moments ever. This scene also gives us some amazing lines like “The Right Partner” and their size difference is so cute.

We also get Steve’s great line about how if you start running then the bullies will never let you stop so you have no choice but to fight back. This clearly resonates with Peggy as we hear her talk about how she has had doors slammed into her face for being a woman. This is another instance where we realize that Steve and Peggy are kindred spirits.

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3. Steve’s training at Camp Lehigh.

Even though we don’t get a direct interaction between Steve and Peggy during this scene, it is still one of the best Steggy moments. We really see who Steve Rogers is in this scene; his willingness to never give up, his intelligence, and his bravery. We also get to see Peggy’s admiration for him through her sincere facial expressions, Hayley Atwell did such a phenomenal job conveying Peggy’s emotions without even needing to say much.

This scene starts with Peggy introducing herself to the new recruits. This is where she punches out Hodge. This is also the moment that Steve and I both fell in love with her forever. I love how Peggy takes no shit from anyone and we just see Steve give a little smirk watching her.

We see Steve’s intelligence when he outsmarts the other privates and unhinges the flagpole, causing it to fall down so he can get the flag and this also gets him the ride back to camp with Agent Carter ;D. I love Peggy’s smirk during this moment. You can see how impressed she is by him just through that little smirk and her wide eyes. And then the grenade scene. Colonel Phillips throws a dummy grenade and Steve and Peggy both go to jump on it, not knowing that is is a dud. I love this so much because we see how brave Steve and Peggy both are. We see Steve not hesitate to give his life to save others even though many have treated him poorly. This is one of the moments where we see the kindred spirits that both Steve and Peggy are. They are both held back because of the perceived weaknesses and yet they don’t let that deter them and they always step up to the task no matter what it is. Also, Peggy has a hilarious line during this scene, I just love her.

“Faster, ladies! Come on! My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!” and “Come on, girls.” -Peggy Carter, 1943

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Sidenote - We also get some iconic Peggy looks during this scene. She is truly a fashion icon.

4. Peggy dumps the last vial of Steve’s blood off the Brooklyn Bridge

A Steggy moment that only involves Peggy. This scene is beautifully done and always makes me tear up. “The Way You Look Tonight by Bing Crosby and Dixie Lee” plays as Peggy pours his blood into the East River. A tear runs down Peggy’s cheek as she says “Goodbye, my darling.”

Hayley Atwell deserves all the awards for this masterful scene. Even after their happy ending this still breaks my heart. Her calling him “My Darling” is so sweet and a term that I think she reserved only for him even after his passing.

Peggy was so distraught at Howard for keeping the blood from her and she was so grateful when Jarvis entrusted her with it. She truly was the only one that knew what to do with it. She dumped it out because she knows that Steve is too good for this world and that the serum should never be replicated. It only worked because of who Steve was.

This is also the moment that Peggy chose to begin to move on. Steve is gone and she knows she must try and move on with her life to find true happiness once again because that is what Steve would want for her. The symbolism is so beautiful. Some would say that this scene is diminished because they ended up together but I disagree. I think this just enforces how strong they loved each other and I know Peggy would give anything to have Steve back in her life.

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5. Steve and Peggy in the bar during Captain America: The First Avenger

The way that they looked at each other in this scene still makes me emotional to this day. They eye fuck so hard during this movie. Peggy puts on that beautiful red dress just to tease Steve and he can’t take his eyes away from her the entire time. This is one of the few times where Steve can’t even keep eye contact. He glances a peak at her cleavage and you know that that is exactly what Peggy wanted and intended.

We get to hear Peggy say “The Right Partner” as well while completely shutting down Bucky’s offer to dance which is beautiful and hilarious.

And I love the way everyone in the bar turns their attention to Peggy once she walks into the room. She manages to silence everyone and capture everyone’s gaze just by walking through the room. She is the definition of “Big Dick Energy.”

6. Steve visiting Peggy during Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

This is probably the most heartbreaking Steggy moment, even more so than when Steve had to crash the Valkyrie. It is really telling of their relationship that Steve is still asking Peggy for advice and looking to her for guidance. She is the one he talks to when he doesn’t know whether or not he should stay with S.H.I.E.L.D and continue fighting. Steve also admits that half the reason he stays with S.H.I.E.L.D is because Peggy was the founder of it.

Peggy calls Steve dramatic in this scene too which is hilarious and so true. I love that even all these years apart, they can still banter like the old days.

On top of this, with Steve still being young and Peggy being old, it really hits home that they will never be together (until time travel is invented obviously). Peggy mentions that her only regret is that Steve never got to live his life. We see a picture of Peggy’s children and I would bet that Steve imagined that those would have been his children. We know Steve was happy for her, that she was able to live a long life. But we also know how heartbroken he was that he missed his chance to be with the love of his life. He is clearly tired of fighting and yet, he keeps on fighting because the life he wanted is gone. This is another reason why I love Endgame’s ending so much. Steve gets that chance to have the life he always wanted in an alternate timeline and he takes it.

And then, one of the most heartbreaking moments ever in a movie for me, is when Peggy’s Alzheimer's kicks in and she is taken back to believing that she is seeing Steve alive for the first time again. We see Peggy go through multiple emotions here. She is shocked that he is alive and then she breaks down, unable to hold back tears at seeing him alive again. Same goes for Steve, he is confused at first and then quickly realized what is happening. We can see him almost break down but he holds it together for Peggy’s sake. At least, we got some beautiful quotes out of this, like Steve calling Peggy his “best girl”. :’(

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7. Peggy helps Steve in rescuing Bucky during Captain America: The First Avenger.

A really underrated moment in my opinion. Here we see Steve willing to risk his life to save Bucky and even though Peggy is clearly worried for his safety, she still has faith in him and helps him by getting Howard’s plane.

"What do you plan to do? Walk to Austria?" "If that's what it takes." "You heard the Colonel, you're friend is most likely dead." "You don't know that." "Even so, he's devising a strategy to take..." "By the time he's done that, it could be too late! You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?" "Every word." "Then you gotta let me go." "I can do more than that..."

Peggy is clearly skeptical of his plan but she knows that he is going to do it no matter what and so she helps him. I love how much she believes in him and his abilities.

This scene is perfect because it comes right after Peggy telling Steve that he was meant for more than this.

We also get the first fondue joke and to this day, it is amazing and hilarious. Sweet, innocent Steve has no clue what it means and makes a fool out of himself. Peggy’s reaction to this will always make me laugh.

8. Peggy and Steve stay on the radio as he crashes the Valkyrie

Another heartbreaking Steggy scene. Steve realizes what he has to do, he has to give his own life to save the lives of millions.

Steve and Peggy both realize during this moment that the life they planned to spend together is about to be ripped away from them.

This scene is so sad and beautiful at the same time. Steve puts the compass which has Peggy’s picture in it on the dash of the plane so that Peggy is the last thing he sees before he dies.

They make their dance date for “Next Saturday at the Stork Club” and Peggy agrees to teach Steve how to dance. Peggy had to be so strong during this. She knew she had to stay on the radio with Steve so that he wouldn’t be scared. We can see her heart break but she did it anyways so that Steve’s last thought would be of her.

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9. Steve sees Peggy in the year 1970 during Avengers: Endgame

Another scene where they don’t directly interact but I love this scene all the same. Steve needs to hide from security and he dips into an office that he didn’t realize belonged to Director Peggy Carter. This is the moment where all of the feelings that Steve has repressed come rushing back to him. I’m sure for a time he managed to move on from Peggy, until 2023 he didn’t know that time travel was possible and so he had resigned himself to never get the change to see her or be with her again.

When he sneaks into her office, he sees a picture of himself, taken during his basic training at Camp Lehigh during 1943 sitting on her desk. This is the moment that I think Steve truly realizes how much he meant to Peggy. I fully believe that they had a secret relationship going on during the war but we know that Steve has never been good with women and probably didn’t realize how much he meant to Peggy. Seeing his picture on her desk, 25 years after his “death” makes him realize that she has always loved him and never stopped.

And then he sees her through the blinds and we can see him fighting to hold his emotions back, fighting to not call out to her. I can only imagine how hard it was for Steve to not try and talk to her. To be standing only feet from her and yet he had to hide and bite his tongue because he couldn’t jeopardize the mission. The emotions that that must have made him feel. Seeing the woman he has always loved, seeing her so into her work that she didn’t even glance up through the glass at him and seeing her all these years later. She probably looked so different to him and yet just as beautiful and jaw-dropping as he remembered.

I think it is obvious that this scene is when all the love Steve has for Peggy came rushing back and this is a key factor in his decision to go back to live his life with her.

10. Peggy gets jealous and shoots at Steve

This may come as a strange choice but I absolutely love this scene. For some reason, I love when my OTPs have petty arguments and bicker with each other and so I adore this scene.

This is one of the first times we see Peggy’s feelings for Steve come front and center. She catches him kissing Private Lorraine and is unable to hide her anger and jealousy.

Then Steve digs himself an even deeper hole by insinuating that Peggy and Howard have been “fonduing.” Peggy makes sure to put Steve in his place by reminding him that he knows not a bloody thing about women.

Steve can honestly be such a dumbass at times and I love him for it.

The scene changes to Howard Stark showing Steve various shields. He finds the one he likes best and when Peggy comes in, Steve acts as if all is forgiven and asks her what she thinks about it with his famous dopey boyish grin.

We all know what Peggy does next. ;P

Honorable Mention: Peggy comforts Steve after Bucky falls from the train

This moment is very touching as well. Steve has chosen to isolate himself from everyone else and tries to drink away his sorrows at his best friend’s death. We learn that Steve can’t get drunk and yet he is still drinking because of how upset he is.

Peggy finds him, in the same burned out bar that she wore the red dress to and comforts him. She tells him to respect Bucky’s choice to fight along Steve and reminds Steve that it wasn’t his fault.

This scene shows us how much Peggy truly cares for Steve. And it is very nice to see Steve actually confront some of his emotions for once.

Other Honorable Mentions:

Steve calls Peggy “The love of his life”

Peggy calls Steve “The love of her life”

Peggy talks about how she wanted another chance to keep Steve safe

Steve’s vision of Peggy in Age of Ultron

Honestly, there is not a single Steggy moment that I do not enjoy. Every single time they interacted was magical. Every time that they talk about each other is amazing and makes my heart soar. I would keep going but I have already spent over an hour making this list and need to work on the rest of Steggy Week.

Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I worked for two hours on this and had a blast. This was a real passion project.

Please share with me your favorite Steggy moments. I would love to know what everyone thinks! :D

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