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ourxcountryadventure · 1 year

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Roman Holiday

July 28, 2023

“Rome. I will cherish my visit here in memory as long as I live.”

AUDREY HEPBURN - Princess Ann

Our plan on the first full day in Rome was to see as much of the city as possible. In order to achieve this goal and accommodate our various mobility differences and the soaring heat, we hired a private driver from Mary Roma. We had created a list of the top things that we wanted to see and sent it ahead to the company along with our start time and the driver was able to make am itinerary that made sense in the 6 hours we had scheduled.

Our driver, Fabrizio, picked us up promptly at 8:00 am and we started our tour at the Trevi Fountain. The fountain was being cleaned and the coins collected and so the fountain was not on. On the positive side of things, the crowd was not large at 8:00 am and so we were able to get up close and personal to the famous landmark to see the sculptures and take pictures. We stopped at a stand to buy a hat for Annie and a magnet for Julie and were lured into a patisserie for cornettos and maritozzo which Dad declared delicious. Julie opted for a plain cornetto and offered a bite to mom who grabbed a decidedly large percentage of the pastry and guzzled it down.

We loaded back into the van and enjoyed Fabrizio’s skill at manoeuvring through the narrow streets of the ancient city. We were often close enough to doors that we could have grabbed the door handle and the intricate dance between pedestrian, scooter and van was remarkable and horrifying all at once.

Next up, the Spanish Steps from the top. Beautiful! We saw the spot where Tom Cruise hopped in the yellow car and drove down the steps in the latest Mission impossible, Syl, Julie and Amelia walked down to the bottom of the steps and back up - finding out afterwards that our next stop was the bottom but making memories nonetheless. Poppa accepted a rose by a street peddler and had to be rescued by Jane and Fabrizio to get the man away from him. Julien was upset that I was not being nice and I was reprimanded soundly for my stern behaviour with the stranger.

The church was not open and so we were not able to visit.

Down the hill to the lower end of the Spanish Steps and Piazza di Spagna. It is a lovely vista and we were able to enjoy it in relative calm with no crowd in the morning. We took a stroll down Via Condotti - the “it” street for designer stores in Rome (think Jimmy Choo, Louis Vuitton). The stores did not open until 10:30 or so and so it was window shopping only for us!

We left there and headed to our next stop but we were hijacked by Mom and Julie who were sitting with Fabrizio in the front seat and who had spied a Pandora store. So inside we went for a little retail therapy that took a bit longer than allowed for our itinerary which meant that the Borghese Villa became the Borghese Gardens which became just a drive by and not a stop. On the upside, we got some wonderful souvenirs and Syl discovered a beautiful church, Chiesa di Gesù e Maria, just down Via del Corso.

The funeral of Andrea Purgatori (thanks Google!) in Piazza del Popolo was making some excitement with heavy police presence and television crews filming the ceremony. We drove by the beautiful Piazza several times but didn’t stop. Hoping we can get back there tomorrow before we leave.

Our next out-of-the-car stop was at Altar of the Fatherland which was my favourite stop for the sheer beauty that surrounded us. We had a snack here at a tiny takeaway sandwich shop - to die for!

We saw the Coliseum and stopped for approx 45 minutes here to gasp at its beauty. There were thousands of others also there which made it very hectic. Annie and Syl walked around the entire structure which is massive and imposing and an incredible architectural masterpiece. Julien and I stayed with Amma and Poppa at a terrific spot to people watch and enjoy the views. Annie said this was her favourite site of the day.

Next up was a stop at the Pantheon and finally Piazza Navona where Fabrizio left us and where we found a great restaurant for a light lunch. This was on Mom’s bucket list - lunch in the Piazza and so we made it happen.

After lunch, Mom, Dad and Julien caught a taxi back to our vacation house and the rest of us meandered around Piazza Navona and then headed back on foot. The distance was set to be 3 km but a slight detour at Castel St. Angelo added another km or so as did Syl’s initial navigating where he only semi-partnered with Google maps. Along the way we walked around Castel St Angelo, saw the Canadian Embassy, crossed the Tiber River and viewed some beautiful streets and buildings. It was a long and hot walk and we were glad to get home for a siesta before dinner.

We decided that steak was our wish for dinner, and a quick search on Trip Advisor led us to Il Belli al Trionfale a short two blocks from our apartment. DELICIOUS! We feasted on deep fried meatballs and smoked carpaccio for appetizers and strip loins served with three salts and some with truffle fondue. They were served on a hot stone which allowed us to cook them to perfection.

Over dinner we discussed our thoughts of the day and determined that Rome has a ratio of Church to Gelatto Store to Piazza to Stolen Obelisk of 10:10:3:1.

A quick walk back and some time on the roof-top terrasse before bed.

List of Our Sites Experienced

Spanish Steps ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Colosseum ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Trevi Fountain ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Pantheon ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Piazza Navona ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Roman Forum ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Altar of the Fatherland ☑️ 🚶‍♀️📷

Castel Sant’Angelo ☑️ 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

Basilica Papale di Santa

Maria Maggiore ☑️ 🚗

Villa Borghese ❌

Borghese Gardens ☑️🚗

➕Circus Maximus 🚗

➕ site of Julius Caesar’s Assassination 🚗

➕Home of Italian President, Sergio Mattarella, Villa Rosebery🚗

➕Piazza del Popolo 🚗

🚗 drive-by

📷🚶‍♀️pics and exploring

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doeeyeseddie · 3 years

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congrats on 1k, pia!! 🥰❤️ may i request buddie + going to events together like carnivals, festivals etc 🐙

vic! thank you so much 🥰 here's 800 words of me pretending the 2019 griffith park harvest festival will take place this november:

[read on ao3]

“Look at this.”

Buck shoves his phone into Eddie’s hands, and Eddie looks at the website on the screen in confusion.

“What’s this?”

“The Griffith Park Harvest Festival,” Buck says. “We should take Christopher there. I think he’d love it – he’s probably too old for a lot of the kids’ activities, but there’s live music and food trucks and stuff too. And they’re showing Coco after sunset...he still loves that movie, doesn’t he? Or has he seen it too many times now?”

“I think Christopher would argue you can’t watch it too many times,” Eddie grins. It’s been a month since he broke up with Ana, and Christopher was surprisingly fine with it, but Eddie still feels a little guilty about it. Maybe a fun day out with Buck will be exactly what they need. “Okay, I’ll ask him.”

So of course, a week later Buck drives them to Griffith Park for the Harvest Festival. Chris paints a pumpkin while Buck and Eddie try the craft beers at the beer garden (they each get a different one and then share them both), but after that, the three of them stick together.

They eat too much from the many food trucks, spend some time at the petting zoo where Buck is almost as enthusiastic as Christopher is, despite their recent encounter with wild animals, and then go to check out the vendors.

Buck buys a bracelet handmade by single moms in Indonesia for Maddie and Eddie gets a fancy candle for Pepa’s birthday next week, and then they wait patiently while Christopher inspects a stall selling exotic plants.

“Remember that your dad has a black thumb, Christopher,” Buck says, and Eddie elbows him but can’t help but laugh.

Chris just rolls his eyes. “You and I can take care of it, Buck.”

Buck’s shit-eating grin morphs into a softer smile. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

Eddie smiles at him.

“Can we get this one, Dad?” Christopher lifts a small skull shaped planter holding a twisting cactus. “It looks like a brain, it’s soo cool.”

“Oooh,” Buck makes, stepping closer. “It really does!”

“It's a seasonal favorite,” the vendor says. “And very easy to care for.”

“Hear that, Eds?” Buck grins. “Maybe even you can do it.”

Eddie ignores him in favor of leaning down to look Chris in the eye. “Listen, buddy, if we buy this, it’s your responsibility, okay? We can put it in your room, but you have to take care of it on your own.”

“I can do it, Dad,” Christopher promises, and Eddie kisses the top of his head before straightening up again.

“Alright, we’ll take the one, then.”

Chris cheers, but his eyes are already on the next vendor’s stall, and he’s pulling Buck over there before Eddie has even pulled out his wallet.

“You have a beautiful family,” the vendor tells him, and it makes Eddie pause.

But there’s no panic clawing at his chest, not even worry.

“Thank you,” he says absently, eyes on Buck and Christopher one stall over.

Instead of panic, there’s an odd sense of warmth in his chest, like he likes it, people calling these two his family.

He grabs his receipt and the bag with the cactus, slowly following Buck and Chris. He watches as Buck swings a laughing Christopher over his shoulder and runs a few steps before setting him on his own feet again, letting him set the pace, and Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest.

It shouldn’t be news to him that Buck is part of their family. The whole 118 is the family he chose, and Buck most of all – it’s the reason why he changed his will, after all. That Buck is Christopher’s family, too.

But somehow, after everything he went through over the past few months, it feels...different. He can’t help but compare the way he feels now to how he felt when people made this assumption about Ana, and it’s unsettling.

“Come on, old man,” Buck teases when Eddie catches up with them, swinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him along. “Your son’s got enough energy for two.”

Eddie wants to do something utterly stupid, like slipping his hand into Buck’s back pocket, like holding his hand while they stroll through the festival, like kissing the taste of that pumpkin spice cupcake he had earlier off his lips.

Oh.

That...makes sense, actually. So much sense that Eddie doesn’t understand how he didn’t realize it earlier. Of course it’s Buck.

“You okay?” Buck asks, squeezing his shoulder once before dropping his arm. The back of his hand brushes Eddie’s, and Eddie smiles at him.

“Fine. Thanks for taking us here, Buck.”

Buck nudges their shoulders together with another smile. “Anytime, you know that.”

When Eddie thinks, I’m in love with you, it’s not a scary thought. It feels like something hopeful, like something he might tell Buck soon. Like something he might not be alone with.

“Yeah, I know.”

#buddie #911fic #911 #buddie fic #pia writes #pia's 1k follower celebration #ask #bilosan

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joanthangroff · 4 years

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took too much to ease the anger

summary: Liam has had it. He will finally confront that delivery driver who almost runs him over on a daily basis. Only that this guy looks way too good. Oh no...

pairings: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken

warnings: -

notes: In true Yas fashion, this is also somewhat based on my real life. There's this one delivery driver who almost ran me over every day in summer, and I thought Liam could live out my imagination of confronting him. Only that Liam is even more of a mess than me, so he acted More Bisexual(TM) than I would have. And then, he hijacked the whole thing and added plot. That's so rude of him. Also, maybe I projected my anxiety about car rides onto him. Maybe.

If you find the very subtle Glee reference you win... nothing except the chuckle it gets out of you, I guess!

Anyway, this is a Christmas present for my dear friend Pia! I hope you'll enjoy it :)

----------------------------------------------------

A lot of people on Liam’s team - and beyond, really - have asked if he plans on going professional when it comes to Lacrosse. And honestly, he would be lying if he said it did not cross his mind.

After all, he’s constantly heard that he can’t be that good. He probably has the talent and skill to be recruited, which might be a good Plan B. He’s even talked about it with his mom and Todd. But when he started playing, it’s been more than a hobby or passion. It’s been a tool. Both for managing his IED and to bond with his (then) new step-father. It’s worked for both pretty well, made lots of fun even.

He could consider doing it for the rest of his life. But only next to something else. Hence why he’s studying history and taking a few archaeology classes on the side. He wants to learn about the past, to see and experience its traces in the current world. He wants to learn and travel and to pass it on, not move from town to town without really seeing anything of them. Really, what comfort would it give him? If anything, the concern that it really matters job-wise what he does out on the field could only give his mental health another trigger. Everything he picked Lacrosse up for could suddenly be in jeopardy.

{read more on AO3}

#thiam #thiam fic #teen wolf fic #theo raeken fic #liam dunbar fic #*fic

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luverofralts · 3 years

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Post Arkhelios

It was hard to imagine a double funeral would been that season’s most anticipated event in Arkhelios, but here they all were. The Rivales family was burying both it’s oldest and youngest immediate family members, and every one was whispering about them. It had been tragic to lose Giovanni, who hadn’t even wanted to retire until he could be replaced in the scientific community. It had been scandalous to lose one of the neighbourhood’s youngest gossips in such mysterious circumstances. Who would come to pay their respects? Could the Bellamys and Helios families keep the peace in such close quarters?

The Bellamys had arrived first, along with Melvin Hydes. Melvin was the default lead detective on Kaeileen’s suspicious death case, but no one was even sure if there had even been a criminal to charge with Kaeileen’s death. Swarms of flies were not exactly culpable.

Malika made a beeline for Emilia while her family found seats. It took every bit of restraint for Emilia not to lunge at Malika and her knowing smirk. She still had a husband and grandchild to care for, even though she didn’t deserve either one of them.

“If you ever need a medium to reunite you with your loved ones, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Malika offered sweetly. “I have very competitive rates.”

Roman and Kamalani arrived shortly after the older Bellamys. It had been the subject of intense speculation whether Roman or Abe would turn up to the funeral. The Bellamys had never been sensitive about their public image, and they refused to bend to anyone’s expectations. Roman would go to that funeral, look appropriately solemn while his enemy from school was memorialized and not step a toe near Abe if the Helios family dared bring him along. Kamalani remained at his side like a jailer, never giving her son an inch to move independently. He had done enough of that before she had returned.

It turned out that the Bellamys won the game of chicken they were playing with Abe’s family. Abe was nowhere to be seen, as Elaine had thought it would be too controversial to bring Abe and interrupt the funeral of a grieving family with Bellamy drama. Only Lucy attended, and she was to watch Roman carefully the entire funeral. Elaine didn’t like the way Malika and Kamalani were looking for her son and trotting Roman out as obvious bait. There was a higher scheme here at work; Elaine just had to puzzle it out.

Lucy surprised herself and did manage to feel bad for Roman, as he was practically chained to his mother’s side. He looked miserable and she caught him many times trying to catch her eye and mouth out a message. Abe would be happy that Roman was safe, and she was happy that Roman still seemed committed to her brother.

Jolanda managed to not to infect the whole church with her recurring illness, and Fabio managed to put on a suit. The extremely low standards Emilia had for her children had been met. Pia seemed to be dissociating, which was concerning. She had watched two close family members die in front of her, and she currently seemed trapped in some kind of fantasy where things were fine. She smiled, and made happy sighs throughout the funeral. There had even been a tiny laugh. If all eyes weren’t trained on Roman and Elaine, the newest gossip would probably be Pia’s inappropriate behaviour.

Emilia was carrying this event entirely on her own. Fabio was laying down, Jolanda was throwing up in the bathroom, and Pia was trapped in some kind of delusion. The Rivales family had never been lower.

Kamalani and Roman sat right behind Elaine and Oriana. Elaine could feel eyes trained on her, but ignored them. She had never spent a lot of time with Kamalani, but she could guess at her true nature just by how close she was to Salem and Malika. Adam and Omar had been told not to come, but they gladly welcomed Omar’s ex-wife?

Roman was trying to kick Lucy’s seat in some kind of code, but she didn’t understand. Kamalani had simply cleared her throat and the kicking stopped immediately.

The rest of the Bellamys were well behaved, even if eyes lingered on Melvin. He wasn’t sure how to please his community if they expected him to prosecute insects. Maybe someone had unleashed the insects on Kaeileen in revenge, but there was no trail, or hidden stash of trained insects in any of the homes he had visited. He supposed he could trap some flies in a jar and put them on trial, but had things really come to that?

It was extra hard being in the graveyard, as this was where his recently discovered father was buried, right next to his loving wife. Ian hadn’t come to the funeral, so Melvin didn’t have a chance to talk to him about their father. Ian was probably wisely avoiding Elaine. Melvin made a mental note to stop by the Chun house this week and check in on him. He hadn’t decided if he was going to tell Ian about their connection yet, but it didn’t hurt to talk to him.

Lucy and Pia said their goodbyes after the ceremony practically an arms length away from Roman. He was so close to Abe’s family, but he was still being overpowered by his.

Lucy couldn't tell if Roman was glued to his mother’s side out of fear, or if she had some kind of invisible restraint on him. Either way, Kamalani had put an end to Roman’s days of running away.

As Lucy left, Roman pushed away from his mother.

“See? He wasn’t even here,” Roman hissed. “I don’t know why I can’t go to see him. No one started a fight with Elaine, and he’s already pregnant, so what more can I do to screw it up? We can work this out with them. We’ll have to work it out with them soon enough anyway.”

Kamalani made an exaggerated show of looking sympathetic.

“I told you, I don’t trust the Helios family,” she replied, her voice dripping with insincerity. “If you can get him to come over to our house, I don’t see why we can’t talk things out like reasonable people.”

It concerned Roman how much his mother wanted Abe on her own territory, away from witnesses. If Abe had shown up that night, what would have happened to him? Roman had a sinking feeling that his mother would have had a plan for that outcome too.

“What if we met somewhere neutral, like the park?” he suggested. “No one had a problem being in the church.”

“Yes dear, we’ll see,” Kamalani was watching the Helios family get into their car intently. For a terrible second, Roman wasn’t sure if his mother had done something to the car. When it started without exploding, he released the breath he had been unconsciously holding. What a stupid thought. His mom was intense, but not a murderer.

Unlike Abraham’s wake, no fights broke out, and no one caught Jolanda’s easily transmitted illness. Arkhelios was getting ever so slightly better.

#sims 2 #ts2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #rivales family #kamalani bellamy #Roman Bellamy #lucy chun

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ask-rebound · 4 years

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"Hi, Cyril! This letter is coming all the way from another dimension. Can you believe it? Well, Mom says that it's not a letter but a a think called an ask, but I've never sent an ask before, so I'm just treating this like a letter. But here's my question! How are you always so cool and nice all the time? Do you ever get scared? You don't have to answer that last one if it makes you uncomfortable. Also, hi!" -Piaras Fitzpatrick

Hey Pia! I wouldn’t say that I’m cool, like, at all, but I think that a positive attitude is the first step to having a positive experience! So when things go wrong, you can keep going with optimism. Guess that’s why they call me Rebound, but at this point Sappy-Spider could work. I do get scared. I’m scared a lot, but I think it’s more of a motivator to be better. Face what scares you because it makes you stronger in the long run. Love hearing from you and I hope to see you again soon!

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tavi-hayes · 4 years

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practice challenge ~ journey to the palace

((whoopwhoop, idk how i managed to write this (given it’s quite long and i usually never ever write stuff this long) also please excuse me again for any spelling/grammar errors i try. alsoooo thanks to these wonderful girls: Bethia @h-hart, Kat @clara-choii and Pia @brookelynnsanders!))

It was silent at work today. The only sounds were the flipping of pages and the ticking on keys of a computer, followed by a frustrated sigh occasionally.

“Maybe we should get some more flutes?” I said, “they’re not that expensive and they won’t take up a lot of space here.”

Lola, being distracted by her laptop, showed no sign that she had heard what I just said.

“Helllooo, Lo are you there?”

“Huh, what?” she ran her hands through her hair as she looked my way.

I lifted the catalogue to show her the flute page.

“No Tavi,” Lo leaned her head on the back of the chair, doing the accounts must have tired her. “We already have flutes, and no one is ever interested in them. They have been here for decades.”

I rolled my eyes, “maybe that is why no one is interested. They look grim.”

Lo refocused on her laptop, and I flipped another page of the catalogue.

Oeh, the bass guitars. My favourite part.

I ran my finger over the page, paying a lot of attention to each one.

There were electronic bass guitars, but also the semi-acoustic ones. Some were very modern-looking with the brightest of colours, while others go for more of a vintage look.

I don’t know if I would ever be able to part with my own baby. The bass guitar, that I now owned, had been eyeing me every day since it had arrived in the store. It had been love at first sight.

But it was such a big investment and I just didn’t have that kind of money.

A part of my earnings was needed for us to make a living, pay the rent and do the groceries for example. And the other part that wasn’t needed for that, entered our savings jar.

We had been saving money since the day my dad was put behind bars. For whatever reason those bars had been in St. George. Freaking St. George.

The province didn’t even have direct borders with Denbeigh, Ottaro was right in between.

That made a simple, but still long, car ride impossible. Not taken the problems that come with the snowy climate into account.

That same climate also caused issues for our only transportation option.

Denbeigh’s climate was hard to predict at times. It could be a beautiful day with sunshine and a clear sky, but then you wake up the next morning to a thick layer of snow.

And because those snowfalls could happen in at least 8 out of 12 months, a lot of planes got cancelled in those months. The only airport anywhere near Winnipeg was privately owned. So the owners could literally ask the prices they wanted for the plane tickets. And boy, they were only focussed on making a profit.

For a simple family of Fives, those prices were unpayable. Hence why we had been saving money for 6 years now, still nowhere near able to pay for tickets. My mom would need a ticket, Daniel and I would too, and we just can’t leave little Aria and Arlan. My dad should be allowed to see them as well. That’s means we already need the money for 5 tickets. But if we include Daniel’s family, with his wife and little Melody, then that would equal 7 tickets.

So yeah, I would never have been able to buy that bass guitar.

Until Lo had a brilliant idea. They would give it to me as my birthday present for the upcoming 10 years. At first, I couldn’t accept that kind of gift, knowing it would have been a huge investment for the Wood family as well. But they insisted, hinting that they would get an employee discount anyway since you know Mr Wood owns the place. So, the price dropped, and they ignored me, so I had to give in and accept. It was the best gift I had ever gotten.

The stores door busted open, “GIRLS!” Gina’s voice took me back to earth. “they’re about to do the draw!”

“What draw?” apparently Lo shared my confusion.

Gina rolled her eyes and grabbed Lo’s laptop from the table. “Wait, I was working! Save it, save it!”

The laptop was put right on top of the catalogue I had just been looking through. Lo ushered over as well.

“Let me just,” Gina had opened an internet page and started typing in the website address of Winnipeg’s number one news channel, WTV. Such an original name.

The news anchor, some middle-aged woman with very fake looking blond hair, appeared on screen. “What is she wearing?” Lo asked, disgust and confusion both showing on her face.

“A track suit, it’s part of her image,” Gina unmuted the laptop, the crow-like voice of the woman filling the room, “now shush, I wanna hear this.”

“… Cameron Porter has been selected for the Illéan national ice hockey team. The star of Winnipeg’s very own ice hockey team, the Winnipeg Belugas, will accompany the national team to the world cup, taking place later this year in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Last week’s draw concluded that Illéa will have to face the German Federation and New Asia in the group stage. The national team’s training will start next week.”

Lo and I shared a look, “this is what you wanted to see Gina?”

“Since when do you care about ice hockey?” I asked, this was something new.

“Urgh, you guys are intolerable,” she silenced us with her finger.

“… and now we will switch to the royal palace in Angeles, to watch the live draw for Prince Arin’s Selection.”

The draw, of course that was what had sparked Gina’s interest. For some unknown reason, the entire Selection had slipped from my mind.

Nevertheless, I felt a little flutter in my stomach. Nerves. Looking over to my friends, I noticed the tense looks on both of their faces. Lo’s hands were clasped together, while Gina’s had disappeared in the pockets of her cardigan.

“Welcome,” some weird voice-over called.

With that the camera focussed on the prince.

“Urgh,” I rolled my eyes.

Lo poked me in the side, laughing, “oh Tavi your distaste is showing.”

“I don’t understand how you can hate someone who is that good looking. I mean have you seen that jawline? Perfection.” Gina had had a crush on the prince for as long as I had known her.

I rolled my eyes again, “I don’t hate him.” The drawing began before I had time to explain myself further.

“From Allens … Idalia Moretti.”

“He doesn’t look very happy,” I couldn’t help but comment, “or comfortable.”

Gina sighed probably annoyed that she couldn’t listen to the show properly, “his engagement was called off not that long ago. That is a pretty hard thing to deal with.”

“Yeah, I see, it’s so hard that he’s having a Selection. Shouldn’t he like get over the other girl first?”

My friends ignored me.

“From Angeles … Emily Rose White.”

This thing was going to take forever. I just wanted to look at the catalogue again, not at that prince, “he’s making me feel uncomfortable, just by watching him.”

Again, no response from either of my friends.

I took that as a sign to remain silent, knowing very well my friends wouldn’t reply anyway now that their eyes were locked on the prince.

“From Dakota … Brooke Lynn Sanders.”

Gina let out a breath she was holding, “okay now is Denbeigh,” she took our hands in hers, “fingers crossed it’s one of us.”

Her hand palms were sweaty, she must really want this.

“From Denbeigh … Octavia Hayes.”

We were all silent for a minute. Then Lo started screaming, Gina joining her. “Oh my GOODNESS!”

“Tavi! You’re going to the palace! You’re going to meet the prince!”

“Yeah,” I was absolutely lost for words. Meeting the prince hadn’t been the first thing that came to my mind, hell it hadn’t even been the second or third thing.

The first thing I thought was: I’m one step closer to getting my dad out of prison. I will be in that freaking library day and night looking for the book that is going to help me. There must be something somewhere about a second opinion on a court order, or something else to annul the judge’s decision.

“Ohhh, I’m sooo jealous of you right now. You are going to meet the prince! And there’s a chance he will fall in love with you and you’ll have beautiful babies.” Gina pulled on one of my curls, it bounced up and down as she let go of it.

“Uhm, I think that particular chance can be redeemed to zero.” I bit my lip, not even in my biggest dreams had I imagined my name would be drawn.

“Tavi, listen. I know you only applied for those laws books, but you need to be friendly to the prince if you want to stay,” Lo insisted, “or else you will be eliminated.”

“And I have to interact with him?”

“There are girls who would kill for a chance of even being in one room with him,” Gina took over, she sounded very serious suddenly. “You’ll meet him that’s for sure, and if you actually try you might make it far enough to earn a date. Just at least try to be nice, okay?”

“Just don’t insult him,” Lo added, “or his family, or the country. Okay, don’t insult anyone.”

The way my best friends were looking at me brought me right back to the good old school days. That was exactly the way teachers had looked whenever I had done something naughty. Which had basically been at least once every day.

“Do you promise?” Lo asked when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to insult anyone.” I sighed, this is going to be so much harder than I thought.

All of a sudden a lot robot-like voice yelled “BREAKING NEWS”.

It just scared the living shit out of me. We turned as one towards the laptop again.

On the screen was that fake blond woman in her tracksuit again.

“Prince Arin just completed the draw for his very own Selection. Some famous girls will be joining him at the palace. Our very own province will be represented by Octavia Hayes. You might have heard of her, given that she is some meekly Five. But her father’s name will ring a bell. Octavia’s father is Caspar H., a dangerous convict in prison for murdering Winnipeg’s beloved mayor Wilfred Wallis. He might have very well passed the criminal gene onto his daughter. Not only is she definitely not a good representative for Denbeigh, but the lives of the royal family might all be in danger.”

“Damn it!” Stupid news anchor. Why couldn’t they just stay out of my family’s business. Now the entire country will be aware of this. My dad’s arrest did make the headlines of some newspapers when all that had gone down. But that had been 6 years ago and I had hoped no one would remember that.

But now it was out in the open. Again.

It didn’t even matter that my dad was innocent. He had already been suffering for it by being locked up far away from our family.

“Tavi,” Lo put her arms around me, “that’s just bullshit, no such thing as a criminal gene exists.”

Gina joined our hug, “you can’t take anyone seriously who wears a tracksuit on live TV.”

*** Couple of days later ***

Dear dad,

My name got drawn for the Selection, I’m going to the palace and meet the prince. Some palace person is coming to pick me up anytime now so I can’t write a lot. Plus, if the mail has already arrived then you will have to wait another month before you get this anyway.

I asked Daniel if he could start writing a monthly letter as well, maybe he can even add a little picture of Melody so you can see her for the first time. He said he will take care of mom, Aria and Arlan as well. Molly will just cook dinner for more people, which she doesn’t really mind doing. At least that’s what she said.

Anyhow I will write to you from the palace.

Lots of love,

Octavia

Zohl wzw, R’n hxzivw. Tlrmt gl gsv kzozxv, z dslov mvd vmerilmnvmg dsviv R wlm’g pmld zmblmv. Ovzermt nln, vhkvxrzoob mld gszg rg urmzoob hvvnh orpv hsv’h gibrmt gl orev ztzrm. Zmw dszg droo gsv xlfmgib gsrmp lu nv. Droo R gfim rmgl zm lfgxzhg? Zxxliwrmt gl DGE R’n tlrmt gl hozftsgvi veviblmv rm gsv kzozxv, yvxzfhv lu blfi ‘xirnrmzo tvmvh’. Yfg gsv kvlkov dsl olev blf droo zodzbh yvorvev blfi rmmlxvmxv, vevm ru gsv dslov xlfmgib hvvnh gl gsrmp lgsvidrhv. Qfhg pmld gszg dv nrhh blf wvziob. Zmw R droo gib vevibgsrmt R xzm gl tvg blf ivovzhvw. Qfhgrxv zodzbh kivezroh.

*** At the airport ***

The car journey all the way from Winnipeg to somewhere in Sota had lasted for ages. Even though I hadn’t really been aware of that, since I fell asleep as soon as they closed the doors behind me.

A frustrated voice had woken me up, “can you please stop drooling all over the leather upholstery?”

My eyes flew open, saliva was indeed smeared on the seat. I quickly wiped it off my face, where it had been present as well. “Sorry,” I mumbled, I then realized we had arrived at the airport, I quickly opened the car door and jumped out.

What I immediately noticed was the rain puddle I had landed in. My shoes and socks were soaking wet. Great.

“Maybe you should try to act more lady-like?” the driver said with a very disapproving tone, looking me up and down. He had already taken my guitar case out of the car and was about to put it right onto the wet street. I quickly grabbed the case out of his hands, clutching it close to my body.

The driver sighed, “there’s the entrance to the airport. Inside it will be clear which directions to follow.”

I made my way towards the entrance he had pointed at when I heard him mumble to himself, “why did I had to drive a barbarian?”

As I turned around, the car’s engine had been running again. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, nor I did I really care. I showed my middle finger to the car anyway. Asshole.

Never had I seen an airport before. It was freaking massive, people walking in all possible directions. Some carrying luggage with them, others with balloons that read “we missed you” or “welcome home”.

One day, my fam and I will be waiting at the airport, carrying one of those dumb balloons around. Coming to pick up dad.

I snapped out of my daydream by someone tapping me on my shoulder. “Miss Hayes, please come with me.”

Nodding, I followed the person not really having another choice since I had no clue which way I had to go. Maybe this is some insane kidnapper.

My heartbeat increased; did I just make a stupid mistake?

“Only one girl has arrived so far. You are to wait for the others before you can board the plane.”

Okay, no insane kidnapper then.

Unless.

This is a complete setup created by his crazy brain.

Panic filled my body, damnit how will I get out of this situation.

Okay, if I just push the person onto the floor, that will give me a chance to run for my life.

One.

Two.

Three.

I took a deep breath in, ready to make the push. But at the last minute the person side stepped which caused me to lose my balance. He looked at me in a very funny way, “please take a seat, the flight attendant will come get you in a few minutes.”

My cheeks turned very very warm, the redness might very well have equalled the red colour of a traffic light.

Trying to calm myself down, I slumped down into a chair. Yikes, only now became I aware of it again. My socks were still wet and cold. Sigh.

After taking a few deep breaths in and out, I noticed the other girl.

“Oh hey, you’re also a Selected?” I started, realizing it wouldn’t be a bad thing to talk to someone.

She turned towards me, “I am Brooke Lynn Sanders, but just call me Brooke please!”

Not knowing what else to do, I waved at her a little awkwardly. “hi Brooke, nice to meet you. My name is Octavia, but please call me Tavi.”

“Nice to meet you Octavia. Did you have a good journey?” I could already tell she did have the lady-like manners I had been lacking.

Oh god, I couldn’t possibly tell her about the drooling situation, so I decided to stick to a vague answer. “Yeah, it was alright thanks. What about your own journey? Which province are you from?”

“My send off from Dakota was a bit bumpy but I am here now. I wish they would have let me take the train though...”

Another girl arrived, also looking very much like someone the prince could end up with. Compared to these two, I was more of a rag doll.

Pushing my feelings behind that wall deep inside me, I waved her over, “oh yeah hi, please join us.”

We chatted some more for a bit, until Haven arrived.

The way she was walking, the only person I had seen walking like that was Long-Beard Logan, the homeless guy who could often be found near New Wave Records. He walked the same way, but he had one wooden leg.

Then Haven opened her mouth, a weird voice coming out, “hi.”

I noticed Brooke shared my confusion, “uhm hello?”

She took out her phone and typed something, it read ‘I’m Haven’.

My confusion hadn’t ebbed away, “are you alright?”

She typed some more, ‘yup:)) just got a bad cold! what are your names?’.

As a response to that we all introduced ourselves again. These girls didn’t seem to be that bad, hopefully the other Selected at the palace were the same. But the chance of that being true was small. Also, why did I care what the other girls were like? I wasn’t there to make friends, with them or with the prince. I had applied for the thing I needed most. Access to the royal library.

“Have you guys ever been on a plane before? This is all very new to me.” I admitted, trying to ease the nerves that had been building up inside me ever since my name had been picked in that draw.

Brooke had a very strong opinion on planes. Private planes more specifically.

Which came as a shock to me. The private plane part. I didn’t know what I was thinking but taking a private plane had never crossed my mind.

In the meantime, Brooke started talking about the CO2 emissions.

“How else would we get to the palace without having an endless journey? It’s not like there’s a teleportation device, right?” I said a little more vicious than I intended. The higher castes used planes all the time, if anyone had a cause in the destruction of our planet it was definitely them.

Brooke definitely had thought of it all, as she mentioned the outstanding quality of the Illéan train system. Clara chimed in to agree with her.

I decided to not mention my exact thoughts about the higher castes, given the fact that I had promised my friends back home not to insult anyone. So I just nodded my head, “yeah okay I understand your point.”

We were able to board the plane shortly after that. Brooke sat down in a window-seat and Clara nestled herself in the seat next to Brooke’s.

I took a chair on the opposite side of the plane, trying to create some sort of privacy for myself without being rude.

Haven sat down in the seat next to me and smiled at me.

The entry door closed; I could no longer contain my nerves. “Here we go I guess.” I tried to calm my breathing, but it didn’t really help. I tried to think of my family back home in Denbeigh, didn’t help either. I heard my dad’s voice in my head, it was like he was actually talking to me, “You are a strong girl, the flight will be over before you know it. Octavia, you can do this.”

A weird sound whisked my dad’s voice away, I looked over towards the source of the sound. It was Brooke choking on her drink. “Please don’t die,” I said. Her dying here would be a shitty start to this whole adventure. Besides, Brooke actually seemed like a nice person.

She coughed, “I am – I am trying.”

Haven mentioned her sibling, how they were close and stuff. She then asked if we had any siblings ourselves.

This provided me with the perfect distraction. I turned towards her, “yeah, I have three siblings. One older brother, a younger sister and a younger brother as well.”

Normally I would never share such personal information with someone I had just met but talking about them was the distraction I so desperately needed from this whole plane situation.

The others talked some more, but I just realized the one and only thing that would get me through this.

Music.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to some music.” I said as I took my earphones out of my bag. “Haven would you like to join?” I asked her politely, given that she was sitting right next to me and it would have been quite rude otherwise.

She smiled at me and nodded, so I handed her one of the earphones. “I do have a very mixed taste in music so you’re in for a treat.” Maybe I could even make her listen to our own music, you know casually extending Five Whispers’ audience.

As a reply, Haven winked at me, “I love a girl with mixed music taste.”

Oh who would have thought, I had something in common with another Selected. I too liked people with a diverse music preference, since music says so much about a person. The quote ‘You are what you listen to’ was on one of the walls of New Wave Records music store. It was also my own personal life motto.

Clara and Brooke continued chatting, but I didn’t listen anymore. The music had taken a hold on me and it had only released me from its grip when the plane hit the ground in Angeles.

#selectionoc #practice challenge #fic

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pavedinashes-if · 11 months

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MC to Sparks: never did drugs but my life is a mess rn so I'm gonna try making some magic brownies to chill

Stepmom after seeing MCs fridge full with brownies: *lectures them about junk food and excess sugar*

#qna: pia #pia: step mom #interesting that you think she wouldn't wonder why there's suddenly so many brownies in your fridge

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commanderbuffy · 1 year

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You saying this 'By the end of the fic (assuming no epilogue/time jump at the end), does pia see Kit as a step-mom/parental figure or is it still too soon for that?' is a spoiler, has me thinking Pia is going around asking jade to make kit her mom in chapter 2 haha

- vibe

HAHHAHA no that’s way too early

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loloskids · 4 years

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⚑ Deacon Joshua Barnes ⚑

37 Years Old, male, Construction Manager, heterosexual, divorced, foster dad/uncle

poor Deacon’s life can be used as an example of the best laid plans seldom go the way you planned it...

he was an accident kid, born to a mom who had him earlier than expected with her boyfriend at the time. his dad stuck around for the first couple of years, but got freaked out when Deacon started being less baby and more actual human he had to be a good role model to. he dipped when Deacon was five years old.

Deacon’s mom, Ellie, did her best to try and be both parents towards him but he was unfortunately blessed with a great memory and would always remember the father who had left. he did love his mother with all his heart, even when she mistakenly blamed herself for henry barnes’s inability to be a good dad, and never pushed for much more in her life. although she eventually managed to score a position at a very fancy restaurant, she remained the head hostess for nearly all of Deacon’s life

getting into a lot of fights as a kid, Deacon truly found a home in shop class, and with his teacher at the time who saw the scuffed up blonde boy and thought there was potential there

Mr. Sanchez changed Deacon’s life for the better, and through a twisted turn of events ended up becoming his stepfather a few years after Deacon had gone on to college

although he got his bachelors in business management, working with his hands and sweat down his back was the kind of work Deacon longed for, and was a profitable way to try and put a dent in his student loans

he’s been working at the same construction company for about fifteen years now, and has risen as high as he can go in the company. he truly loves it there, and considers the people he works with his family

Rosalie was the girlfriend of one of the floater construction workers around town, who saw Deacon and his drive to push himself further and saw what he could become - and how she could take advantage of it. she was a beautiful woman and pursued Deacon after dumping her old beau with a tenacity he couldn’t help but fall in love with

she stopped working right after the wedding, and in an effort to keep her to the life she wanted Deacon started working longer and harder

color him devastated when he found out, three years after they’d tied the knot, that he was stepping out on him. Rosalie convinced him that it was a one time thing, but when he found out about ANOTHER man a few months later, he asked for a divorce. she refused.

the battle lasted over a year in court and left Deacon utterly exhausted, but he’d got to keep the things that mattered the most to him, their dog, their house, and most of his assets. four years after the catastrophe went down, he still finds it hard to trust the women he’s involved with

last year, Deacon discovered that he had a half brother (on his dad’s side) who was in and out jail, truly lost. when he reached out and tried to help him, he discovered to his horror that he had a five year old daughter who’s home life was anything but stable. after some court petitioning, he’s been allowed to foster the little girl, his niece, Pia, ever since

TIDBITS

born and raised in Klover, Colorado, he’s never wanted to leave home and never will. the wide open spaces and clear air suit him just fine

his favorite color is brown, and yes he will death glare you if you say something bad about it

his blood might actually be made of coffee instead of red blood cells, he’s been drinking the stuff so much of his life

he has a chocolate lab named Imogen that he fought his ex-wife tooth and nail over during the divorce. Imogen had only been with them for a couple of months when the marriage fell apart, but had already bonded with him more. Rosalie wanted to take her more to make Deacon feel shitty than for any other reason, but thankfully the judge ruled in Deacon’s favor

he loves country music. he can’t help himself. he’s got the big ass truck to prove it.

his drink of choice is a rum and coke.

#klover.intro #world: klover #character bio #ch: deacon barnes #new boy

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piagperez · 4 years

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Pia tried to be as active a mom as she could be. With the divorce and the hours she worked, she felt it was important to spend as much time with both her children. Sometimes just her and the kids and other times she liked to set up playdates for them both. Usually the playdates were for Mateo, since he was so young but today she’d invited over a little girl a year or two younger then Elena; someone she got along with from her dance classes.

Elena had been excited. Her home was relatively spotless and she’d made sure to have snacks and drinks for the children stocked. All that was left was to wait for Sebastian and his daughter Bella to arrive. A knock sounded on her front door and she made her way to the door, beating an eager Elena and pulling it open with a smile.

“Hey! It’s good to see you both,” Pia greeted with a wide, warm smile, chuckling a little as Elena greeted the other girl just as enthusiastically. “Why don’t you come in?” Pia offered, opening the door wider and stepping aside to let them both in.

( @thesebastianrios )

#pxs.001 #ch.sebastianrios #(( I hope this is okay! ))

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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647

Have you ever done a craft that you found on Pinterest? I’ve never gone on Pinterest for reasons other than looking for interior design ideas lmao, so no. I’m no good at crafts anyway so it’s not like looking at Pinterest will make me feel good or motivated. Do you get scrapbooking layout ideas from anywhere? I don’t do scrapbooking, but if I do start (and I’ve always wanted to), I’d definitely get some tips from the internet or from people I know who are artsy. What do you do to wipe off the dust from ordinary life? Drink. Are you content with mystery, or do you wish you knew everything? I wish I knew everything, no matter how bad the news may be. What do you do when someone irritates you on Facebook? Unfriend them, duh. I could still see them in real life anyway, but I can very much hate their presence online enough to unfriend/block them haha.

Are you judgmental? If I meet a person for the first time only after I’ve heard a couple of stuff about them, I might judge them for a bit yeah. Then I’ll brush it off first and see if they really are what I was told they’d be. Do you think your hair looks better natural or dyed? I’ve never had it dyed, so I wouldn’t know if it looks better. Do your parents disrespect you? My mom does; and she’s typically a disrespectful person. My dad’s pretty chill. Have you found that love covers over a multitude of sins? Sure. People just have to watch out and make sure love doesn’t reach such a point that it ends up becoming a cover-up for toxic behavior. What was the last Grand Opening you went to? Popeye’s HAHAHAHAHA. They opened their (second) first branch in the country around a year ago and we didn’t have classes that day, so we went. Do you have anything coming up tomorrow? No Monday classes for me, so the day would just consist of me doing schoolwork at home, or in a coffee shop, or whatever works for tomorrow. What's one thing that makes your stomach hurt? DAIRY. I’m having milk tea right now and it is a nightmare. But it tastes so good, so lactose town it is. Ever had a living nightmare? You mean the last 22 years of my life? Sure. Do you have a lot of haters? Idk, it’s possible but I don’t worry about that kinda stuff.

Do you think successful people always come with a pack of haters? Of course. People are alllllllllways envious. Do you have supernatural abilities? No. Do you kick yourself when you make mistakes? Do you say, "I wish I would have" a lot? Yeah I do this a lot. It drives my girlfriend nuts and she hates when I start on could have/should have rants, but it’s my thought process most days. Are you doing the most you can with your life? 'The most’ is probably pushing it. I know I can still do more like join contests, volunteer, be in more orgs, etc. but it doesn’t mean I’m unhappy where I am and with what I’ve done. I can still call myself satisfied, and I hope it means I’ve been doing something right. Do you let people walk on you? No. At least I don’t think so. Are you ok? Thanks for asking :’) I could be better, but at least I’m functioning and that’s better than being a vegetable in bed all day. Do you have a friend you miss right now? Yeah, I always miss Angela. Do you ever write snail mail to your friends? We don’t do that anymore dude. Do you make your life look better than it is on Facebook? Yeah. There’s like this quiet mutual understanding among people (at least in my generation) that Facebook is for impressing your relatives and showing how good of a life you have, and Twitter is where you air out your sadness and rants and all the mess in your personal life haha. Do you feel God's presence regularly? There is no presence to be felt. Do you experience chronic pain? Nope. Do you believe God loves you and is rooting for you? Don’t need anyone else other than my friends and myself to do both of those for me. Have you ever dreamt that you were falling? I’ve never dreamt it but I’d sometimes get that sensation when I would almost fall asleep. What would your dream career be? Lawyer. If I wasn’t such a fucking crybaby in arguments I think I’d survive law school just fine HAHA. Are you a daydreamer? Sure. Do you daydream so much that you wonder if there's anyone who doesn't? Not really. I just daydream when I’m bored. Do you ever just sit and daydream for awhile? ^ Again, only when I’m bored. Is the snow falling where you are right now? Snow has never fallen in the Philippines. What is your favorite part of nature? Mountains, and the spectacular views they can give. Do you wish you could be a world traveler? Sure. Do you wish you could live in another city for a year? I wish I could migrate to another country – that’s how much I want to get out of here. What city would you like to visit? I’m eyeing Bangkok for my next trip abroad if that’s ever going to happen :) What has been your favorite city that you've visited? Locally, Vigan or Sagada. Abroad... probably Bali. If you had kids, would you take them to Disney World? I’m definitely going to be that parent who takes my kids every year and lets them wear whatever costume they’d want. Have you ever stood in line to get a Disney character's autograph? No. Do you own a birthday crown? I had a tiara for my 7th birthday party, but I’m not sure if my mom was able to keep it. How long does it usually take your hair to dry? Do you dry it naturally or blow-dry it? I have it dry naturally because I get bored blow-drying it. It usually takes an hour or two. Do you straighten your hair? No. I have bad experiences with that because as a kid/teenager, my mom would force me to have my hair rebonded even if I never wanted to have it done to my hair; so these days, when someone asks if I prefer my hair to be straightened, I shudder and say no. Do you sleep with a teddy bear? No and I never did. I was never into stuffed toys. Would you consider yourself a free spirit? To an extent, I guess. I do enjoy being independent and trying out new things, but I always want people to be with me along the way. If I’m gonna travel the world, I need a travel buddy. If I’m gonna go hiking in Sagada, I’d feel better having a companion. If I’m gonna try worms or bugs for the first time, it’s always nicer having someone who’s just as daring when it comes to food. I’m basically a free spirit who never wants to feel lonely, haha. Do you need to clean out your closet? I need to refold some of my clothes, but otherwise I know where everything is. Do you watch YouTube videos regularly? Yeah, I watch at least one video a day. What's your favorite coffee shop? Starbucks will always be my first love for their ambience, but Coffee Bean is pretty great too. Is your Pinterest page cluttered? It’s not used at all. Do you want to start a collection? Yes, I always said I would start collecting all sorts of WWF/E memorabilia once I’m able to afford having a steadily-growing collection. My future house is definitely gonna have its own ~man cave~ except it’ll be for wrestling merch, and it’ll have its own TV and sound system too for when I want to hide from the world and just find solace in wrestling. Are you a role model? Would you consider yourself a good example? I’ve had people say they look up to me for certain traits, but this isn’t something I actively try to become. I have bad habits and vices of my own, so I definitely don’t endorse myself as a role model. But if I can help people in other aspects, then that’s more than alright with me. Are you a leader or a follower? Follower. I like being a leader whenever I can, but there’s too much pressure in being the leader all the time. Who's your favorite person? My girlfriend, durrr. Who have been your favorite American Idol contestants? Siobhan Magnus, Adam Lambert, and Pia Toscano. Did you used to name your Barbies? No. I never liked playing with Barbies either. I think I only ever got one Barbie doll as a present, and it’s because I always preferred playing with toys for boys given that I grew up with mostly male cousins. What unnatural hair color looks best on you? I’m not sure. I’ve wanted to dye my hair either red or green, though. Is your life boring? No. It’s certainly picked up in the last few months. Do you usually feel better around people or alone? I do great for both situations. It depends on what I need at a particular time. Is there a broken relationship in your life that you want to fix? There’s a broken relationship, but I have no desire to fix it. Do you ever think about Heaven? A part of me finds a level of solace in the idea of getting reunited with lost loved ones when I die, but I mostly think there’s no afterlife. Are you ready for Heaven yet? Are you afraid of where you're going to go? No. I’d like to think I’ll end up somewhere in the universe, and it’s enough to calm me down. Do you have a tree outside your window? Yes, but it’s dark and we have curtains so I can barely see the trees. Do you feel better now than you did last night? I wouldn’t say that, even though I’m feeling okay tonight. I was with Gabie last night, which automatically makes last night better. Is your sleep schedule messed up? It’s still a little bit distorted, yeah. But I’m not too worried about it because at least all my classes this sem start at 10 AM, which means I get to sleep in unlike last sem when I had 7 AM/8:30 AM classes :) Does your body have any problems with it? It gets tired during the day because I’d usually take naps in the afternoon, but it doesn’t affect me too badly. Are you doing ok spiritually? I don’t think about that aspect. Have you taken any huge risks lately? I had a long, blunt talk with Gab last night and it involved topics regarding our relationship that have long been denied and shelved finally acknowledged and let out in the open; and I think that in itself is a big step to take. Silence or songs? I can prefer either depending on my mood. Tea or coffee? Coffee. Books or movies? 10 year old me would say books. Today me would say movies. Do you ever watch your favorite movies from when you were a kid? Yes. I do a Toy Story rewatch at least once a year. ^If you were going to do that, what would you watch? Mostly Disney movies like Toy Story, Finding Nemo, The Game Plan, etc. Do you ignore rude people or do you call them out? Call them out. Do you have trouble staying organized? Yeah, but then again I’m messy-organized so even though I find it hard to maintain being organized, I still end up remember where everything is placed (most of the time). What has been your most favorite adventure? Walking around Bali and my family not knowing where the hell we were or where we were headed. What has been your greatest mistake? I hate questions like this. Are you happy with your life right now? I’m like 75% happy with it, which I’d say is a decently healthy amount. Do you take anything to make your feel better? No. Are your parents still together? Yes. What color socks do you have on? Currently barefoot. Are you under a blanket right now? Nope. It’d be nice to be that right now, though. Are you hopeful? Always.

#survey #surveys

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arelosers · 5 years

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pia robinson, twenty-four, grad student, zendaya

born and raised in france, moved to the states in her teens after her dad got a job in nyc / her parents split up when she was a wee babe so she stayed with her dad in europe while her mom remarried in america / when she finally moved back in with her mom it was kinda awkward and intense because she didn’t really know her brother elijah too well??? or her step-mom, for that matter / they’re all over it now and livin it up as an odd family bc her dad would always come over for dinner and they kinda just took him in as part of the fam again / used to speak with an accent but it’s gone away, for the most part / decided to pursue poetry in college and is currently pursuing her masters in literature / can be pretentious as hell but usually means well / loud-mouthed and unapologetically herself / tries to be 100% that bitch a little too hard / a surprisingly good chef / still can’t decide if she wants to eventually move back to france or not, even though she’s made unbreakable bonds ezra in the states / what you would get if you mixed katarina stratford with a disney princess

needs: exes!!! she went to high school + middle school in constance county, so definitely needs some ppl who distracted her from the fact that she was in love w one of her best friends / roommates pls. she thrives in purely chaotic environments / people who thought she was just the overrated french transfer student in high school / gal pals / someone to bicker over the classics with

tyler jeong, twenty-seven, popstar, charles melton

basically shawn mendes and harry styles rolled into one??? / left constance right after graduating high school to pursue music and hasn’t ever looked back since / kinda cocky, kinda cute / was finally convinced to come home for the holidays for the first time in five ish years / super overprotective over his younger sister tamsin, even though she’s an adult now and he’s rarely around / a workaholic to the core / incredibly concerned about his style and aesthetic, even more so than how much of a dick he comes off as / needs a reality check and to be taken down a notch tbh / was dumped by his model girlfriend via a public instagram post a few months ago and hasn’t yet recovered / just needs a hug / isn’t super afraid to be feminine, kinda a softie / wants to just hit the reset button on life honestly, canceled his national tour to be here :/

needs: maybe a childhood best friend he hasn’t seen in like, ten years??? and now they rly despise him because he’s a changed man and total asshole. they definitely couldn’t care less that he’s hot shit now and it’s irritating bc all he wants is their attention. romance may b involved who knows / fans, pls / a best bro from high school he’s stayed in touch with since graduation, but they’re a disaster duo and always stirring up trouble / ex girlfriends from high school

foster ingram, twenty-two, delta rho idiot, nick hargrove

oh god i’m sorry you have to meet this one / son of two very successful surgeons / wears gucci loafers every day, it’s a problem / carries around cigarettes because he thinks they look cool but doesn’t smoke them in true agustus waters fashion / but he hits that juul tho / always making up some lie or excuse to ease his parents’ suspicions of his whereabouts / very clean-cut on paper, charming and groomed to become a politician / but then you see him at a frat party going buckwild and think maybe we don’t want this guy as the future potus / breaks hearts with ease / has trashed far too many hotel rooms / this is the guy your mom warned you about, fuccboi to the max / whenever he actually gets his heart broken (dumping him is a valid move) he spends like three days locked up in his room moping around / majoring political science but also getting a degree in women / that’s some shit he would totally say / wears sunglasses inside / pulls dramatic, public logan huntzberger type stunts all the damn time, just wants that attention sadface

needs: the rest of his delta rho bros pls / some girl that thought they finally changed him and got him to settle down only for him to dump her on her birthday!!! yikes / party buddies / other kids of well off families in constance, perhaps a band of rebellious children of the elite / all the exes / someone he totally screwed over in one of his little pranks, so now they’re hellbent on ruining his life

#kickbackrp #here they are #trash babies

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 6 years

Text

Best. Date. Ever.

Summary: This wasn’t quite what you had in mind.

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Bad language. A smidgen of murder. A splash of fluff.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @abovethesmokestacks ‘s summer challenge, and I’m a slacker who’s a week late, so thank goodness Pia’s amazing! This story came about because I was seriously coveting these shoes and because Pia gave me a super cheeky dialogue prompt, which you’ll find bolded in the story. Enjoy!

A/N 2: Check out Best. Proposal. Ever. to read more of these two!

If you want on or off the tag list, send me an ask!

MASTERLIST

Dress up, he ordered. Something fancy and sexy. I got a plan.

It sounded promising. A night at the ballet perhaps, or tickets to the opera. Dinner and dancing, maybe. Something classy. Something elegant.

After eyeing them in the window, you decide to buy that pair of outrageously expensive Jimmy Choo’s for the evening, anticipating something spectacular.

Well.

It was something alright.

*****

Black satin clutch tucked tight beneath your arm.

Quiet steps on the balls on your feet.

Gun drawn, cocked and aimed, you tiptoe down the dim hallway, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the puddles of yellow light spilling from vintage sconces lining the wall.

The target looms ahead, a heavy black door at the end of the corridor and a steady stream of quiet curses slips from clenched teeth as you move, damning his dumb ass to hell and back.

Eyeing the narrow beam of light lining the bottom of the door, you pause when muffled laughter slips beneath the crack. Momentarily confused, you wonder if you have the wrong room.

Nope.

“Answer the fucking question,” a frustrated voice suddenly shouts, followed by the dull thunk of metal slapping skin. Bucky’s responding groan is long and low, a guttural sound ripped from deep in his chest.

It sounds desperate.

It sounds wounded.

It sounds – excessively theatrical.

Of course.

Is it possible to roll your eyes so hard you see your brain?

Leaning into the door, you press an ear to the thick ebony wood. There’s a hum of unintelligible muttering and then plain as day, you hear Bucky’s cheerful response.

“Yeah, no. Feels like you’re hard of hearing there, big boy. You wanna hand me that knife? Let me clean out your ears real nice and careful like? Or maybe you were that stupid kid sitting too close to the TV growing up, watching cartoons while your Mommy was running around banging the mailma – ow! Fucking ouch god dammit, what the hell’s the matter with you?! Who the hell stabs someone? That fucking hurt!”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh.

Here’s the thing.

Now and then, the avenging gets slow. It happens occasionally, not often, but enough for you to discover an interesting personality twist. When the avenging gets slow, Bucky Barnes gets bored. And a bored Bucky Barnes is – concerning. Full of pent up energy, leaking sarcasm and sass, he has a small tendency to find trouble.

It’s not trouble, it’s called saving the world, he always argues.

It’s not saving the world, it’s called gratuitous chaos, you always respond.

The voice comes back, full of fury. Electricity pops and sizzles and suddenly Bucky swears at the top of his lungs.

“Wait, wait, wait, stop! Damn, fine, fine. You got me, just stop, please, I’ll talk, I’ll talk, let’s talk…about the fact that your mom was totally fucking the mailman, I mean come on – “

The sound of electricity buzzes louder and he howls in pain.

“Say it again,” you hear the voice snarl, followed by Bucky’s breathless reply.

“No joke man, you touch me with that thing again, I’ll shove it so far up your ass you’ll shit sparks for a week.”

In addition to the whole trouble thing? He’s also a massive drama queen.

“This is bullshit, Bucky” you hiss at the door, glancing at the absurdly expensive heels and reaching to brush dust from the toe. “I’m so fucking pissed at you.”

Seriously.

Clutching the gun tight, you carefully turn the knob and with a deep breath, hip check it open. And yep. The reveal is exactly what you could have anticipated, because you know Bucky Barnes way, way too well.

Dangling by his hands from a wide steel beam, his wrists encased in what appears to be a reinforced cuff, Bucky swings gently, the toes of his black boots barely brushing the ground. His faded grey t-shirt is slashed down one side, soaked through with thick splotches of blood and clinging to his body like a second skin. Twitching his head to shake away sweaty strands of dark hair, you see the impressive array of purple bruises painting his face, extending down his neck.

He looks terrible. Awful. A beaten man in terrible pain.

Except –

The anguished grimace fades when he sees you, morphing into a shit-eating grin. Wiggling his fingers in a mocking little hello, he gives you a wink.

What an ass.

Hearing the swinging door, the man in front of Bucky spins, raising a gun in one hand and a taser snapping lime green sparks in the other. Frustration is etched in every line of his face, which is, to be fair, a common expression for anyone talking to Bucky.

“Drop the gun,” he bellows, shaky hands holding both weapons in front and sounding for all the world like a two-bit security cop in a low-budget heist film.

Throwing him an impressively impatient scowl, you shake your head.

“Listen, I’ve had a long day and these heels are killing me and I just wanted to spend one night without worrying how I’m getting blood out of my clothes in the morning. So since that fantasy’s shot to shit, can you please just not?”

“Don’t try to distract me!” he yells in response. “Drop your gun or I’ll shoot you both!”

Looking past him, you meet Bucky’s wide-eyed, innocent blue eyes.

Innocent blue eyes. Seriously. What a crock.

“I’m fucking pissed at you,” you warn Bucky, pointing the gun down at your shoes. “These were expensive.”

He pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout and swings himself playfully in the restraints. “Don’t be mad honey baby, it’s all part of the plan.”

“Jesus. I shudder to think what else you have planned.”

The guy follows the exchange like a tennis match, head swiveling in confusion, until he focuses on you again and opens his mouth to shout another disappointingly dull threat, but you hold your hand up to silence him and he looks unbelievably put out by the gesture.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood, alright? I gave you a chance.”

Flicking your eyes to the bloody, sweaty man dangling behind him, you cross your arms and wait.

Here it comes.

Vengeance fills his features, a blinding smile of murdery glee, and in the blink of an eye, Bucky curls his knees to his chest and hoists himself up with the metal arm. With a casual kick, he hooks his thighs around the man’s neck and squeezes tight.

Dropping both weapons, the man scrabbles at the dirty legs locked around his neck, panic flashing through his face.

“You sir,” Bucky states, as the man chokes, trying to wrench free, “are a real dick.”

With a graceful twist of his hips, he snaps the neck with a jarring crunch. The body collapses in a heap and Bucky glares contemptuously for a second and then proceeds to aim several childish kicks at the head, but his toes are just out of reach and he flails uselessly in the air.

He looks up in annoyance.

“Hi. Little fucking help here please?”

Stepping over the body, you rummage through the pile of electronic gadgets and random torture devices strewn across the table. Locating a small purple device attached to a SpongeBob keychain, you dangle it in front of him.

“Apology first.”

“No worries, I accept your apology,” Bucky says graciously. “Now get me down.”

“No asshole, I want an apology. You said dress up and now my Jimmy Choo’s have blood on them.”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” Skeptical of his quick submission, you punch the unlock button slowly and the cuff releases. Bucky drops to his feet, rubs the red chaffing around his wrist, and gives you a wide smile. “I’m sorry you’re a wet blanket who doesn’t appreciate fun, but anyway.”

He anticipates the move and ducks when you snatch a knife from the table and fling it at him, letting it smack harmlessly against the concrete wall behind him.

“I swear to god, you’re lucky you’re hot Barnes. It sure as hell’s not your personality that keeps me around.”

“The hell do you mean? I’m charming as fuck,” he argues. Wetting his busted lips, he uses the collar of his shirt to wipe away the pool of blood caked in the corner of his mouth, while interested eyes trail down your outfit.

Strapless black silk dress falling to your knees. Diamonds dangling from your ears. Bright red lips. Black Jimmy Choo heels with a flirty little feather on the side.

His smile turns a shade darker and ten shades filthier.

“You look smokin’ hot. Nice.”

“And it’s apparently a waste. When you said dress up, I sort of assumed we’d be doing an activity other than murder.” Tossing the keychain on the table, you come closer to scan his impressive mess of injuries. Probing the thick muscle below his ribcage, he sucks in a strangled breath as your fingers brush the source of blood still soaking his shirt.

“Buck – “ you start, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t baby me, I’m fine. Me and that bag of dicks just had a little disagreement over one of his brainless questions.”

“How did he go from asking questions to sticking a knife in your gut?” you ask, trying to tug up his shirt to confirm the damage.

“No, I will not have sex with you!” he says loudly, pushing your hands away. “God woman, keep it in your pants.”

“I’ll punch you in the knife wound Bucky. I really will.”

Sighing loudly, he stops struggling and lets you pull apart the remaining shreds of his shirt. Examining the blood under his fingernails while you examine the slow leak of blood down his side, he shrugs nonchalantly.

“If you must know, he just got a bit pissy because apparently suck my dick wasn’t the correct response to that question.”

Life with Bucky Barnes is akin to chasing an aggressively accident-prone toddler, so you’re actually prepared for this situation.

Opening the silver clasp on your clutch, you search for the extra-absorbent bandages you threw in earlier. Folding his hands obediently, Bucky rests them on top of his head and watches with a serene expression while you wipe away the blood from around the wound, before ripping open the bandage and applying it carefully to his skin.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you ask, paper held between your teeth, “to try being a little less mouthy?”

Straightening the remains of his bloody t-shirt and wiping your grubby hands on his jeans, you look up to find him grinning.

“It did occur to me. But where’s the fun in that?” He holds his hand out expectantly. “On to part two. Did you bring my gun?”

The worst. Honestly. Sometimes he’s the worst.

“Yes, I brought your gun, you ungrateful douche.”

Lifting the edge of your skirt reveals the narrow straps of a black thigh holster, with Bucky’s favorite Glock strapped in place. He bites his lip and gives you that filthy smile again, crowding in close.

“Ugh. Dammit that’s so hot. Here, let me help,” his fingers snag the silky fabric, trying to pull up your skirt.

Slapping his hand and giving him a warning knee in the balls, he grunts and backs away with his wounded puppy face. Unclipping the gun, you flip it around and hand it over.

“Keep it in your pants Barnes, we don’t have time. The show’s about to start.”

Standing up straight, he salutes you with the barrel of the gun and cocks it dramatically.

“You’re the boss. Lead the way, you sexy little minx.”

*****

Navigating the labyrinth of halls, you find the back staircase leading up to a maze of crevices and hidey holes helpfully built into the rafters of the enormous ballroom. Finding a slot near the edge, you crawl into position, the smooth silk of your dress picking up the thick film of dust, making the slide easy.

God. Dammit. Bucky’s spending tomorrow morning getting this dress dry-cleaned and you better not hear a breath of argument from him.

“Seriously, I’m so fucking pissed at you,” you whisper, knowing full well his annoying super hearing will pick it up and sure enough, he rewards you with a stifled laugh.

The space is dark, muted light from the ballroom’s sparkling chandeliers allowing you to stay hidden from prying eyes down below. Bucky follows close behind, wiggling in next to you. Getting comfortable, he sighs happily and turns to you, gaze drifting from your face down your bare shoulders, over the swell of your ass, and that filthy smile appears again. Reaching down, he massages the back of your knee and runs his hand up your thigh, trying to pull your dress up again.

“Lemme see your panties.”

“For god’s sake, do not say panties, you weird fuck.”

“Fine. Lemme see your underpanties. Are they lace? Tell me they’re lace. You know how much I like lace.” His hand wanders further up to find your black lace covered bottom and he gives a whispered yes of delight.

Ignoring the wandering hand squeezing handfuls of your ass, you open the black clutch again, extracting four paper-thin pieces of metal. Clicking them together reveals a lightweight air-rifle with a narrow scope affixed to the top.

Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Gimmie,” he says breathlessly, releasing his death-grip on your ass and reaching grabby hands toward the weapon.

Still ignoring him, you prop the rifle on the ledge in front of you and peer through the scope, searching for the reason you’re stuck in the dirty ceiling of this exquisite ballroom, instead of somewhere fashionable with people making jealous remarks about your amazing shoes.

Bucky nudges you.

“Gimmie,” he says again.

“No, Bucky.”

“Yes, Bucky,” he insists, now trying to tug it from your grip. “Did you forget I’m the best shot the US army ever had? I even have a certificate that says so. You can’t argue with my certificate, it’s not patriotic. Captain America’ll arrest you.”

Still searching through the crosshairs, you peel his sticky fingers from the barrel with one hand.

“You drawing a picture of a gun, writing ‘Bucky rules’ on it, and taping it to the refrigerator does not mean you have a certificate.”

He gives an indignant little squawk. “Uh, I didn’t tape it to the ‘fridge, I superglued it to the ‘fridge. That fucker’s never coming down.”

“Can you please shut up? I need to focus.”

“Come on honeycakes, let me have the rifle,” he whines softly, resuming the light strokes down your thigh.

“No. I know you. You’ll shoot the guy in the eye just to prove you can, he’ll realize something’s up, and it’ll blow our cover.”

“Why would I do that?” His voice oozes shocked sweetness.

“Because you’re a showoff,” you mutter.

“I’m not a show-off,” Bucky argues and somehow in the narrow space he manages to crawl on top of you, straddle your hips and start licking your neck. “Sometimes I’m just vindictive, I can’t help that. Now come on and give me the rifle, hmm? Please? I got stabbed earlier, you should let me have my way. If I have internal bleeding and I die later, you’ll feel really bad about not giving me this one little thing. Come on, hand it over.”

He sucks your earlobe and tugs with his teeth.

Long ago, this strategy might have worked.

He is charming.

He excels at sweet talk.

He is murderously adorable.

The only thing working against him now – is that you know he’s completely full of shit.

“Get off me, you weigh a ton,” you respond instead, wiggling your shoulders to shrug him away.

“Did you just call me fat?” he whispers. He bites your ear harder.

“Maybe,” you shiver at the petulant huff warming your neck.

“I am offended.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not, but someone with less self-confidence might be and would you like that on your conscience?”

“I’ll manage.”

In that moment, the crosshairs find him, a tall man dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo, his blond hair slick and shining. Even though he’s dead set on being an annoying little shit, Bucky instantly recognizes your posture change and goes motionless above you. Taking a deep breath, focusing on the small mole on the back of the blond’s neck, you gently squeeze the trigger. With a twitch, the rifle silently expels the microscopic dart and you know it’s a direct hit when the man scratches absently at the patch of skin above his collar.

Bucky gives a hum of approval and plants a sloppy kiss on your neck.

“Nailed it. High five,” he says and reaches between his legs to slap your ass. “But how come you’re always so mean to me? And why the hell does it turn me on so much?”

Breaking down the weapon, you pack it back in the purse and snap it shut.

“Because you’re a fucking masochist.”

“True. So – now what?”

“Now we wait.”

As the words leave your mouth, the chandeliers begin to dim, the hum of voices dropping as the crowd of people shuffle to their seats.

Folding your arms, you lay your head down to wait. Bucky finally stops fidgeting, settling on top of you, balancing his weight on his forearms and resting his chin on your shoulder. He smells like attic dust and irony blood, but his heavy presence is a warm and comfortable weight.

All fades to black. Absolute silence.

The single note trembles in the darkness, the vibrating twang of a cello. Low lights slowly illuminate the small platform at the front of the ballroom, revealing three musicians and the sudden haunting whine of a violin shatters the stillness.

The air overflows with music, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Bach, a symphony of classics bleeding together, never pausing. Bucky stays still above you, his only concession to movement when he occasionally presses his lips to the space behind your ear, breathing in the familiar lingering scent.

And sure, he drives you bonkers half the time and he may be utterly full of shit, but a simple fact remains.

Nothing in the world, beats the feel of his mouth on your skin.

Ninety minutes of magic fly by and applause fills the room as the lights come up for intermission, the audience leaping to their feet. No one notices the blond man seated halfway back, slumped in his seat, nor the shadowy figures of two people energetically arguing as they slip from a hidden exit in the back.

*****

From a distance, you spy the neon sign, the only beacon of colorful life along this desolate stretch of highway. Bucky perks up and bounces in his seat.

“There it is! Pull over.”

“Bucky, no. I’m tired and you’re bleeding on my leather seats and I want to go home and shower.”

“But I’m hungry. I’m literally wasting away.”

“Figuratively. You are figuratively wasting away.”

“So, you agree then, I’m wasting away and we should stop.”

“Oh my god, fine.”

Swerving into the parking lot with a screech of tires, both of you clamber from the vehicle still debating his rampant disregard for basic language definitions and stomp into the brightly lit Taco Bell. At this lonely hour, it’s nearly empty, minus the energetic high school kid with headphones using his mop as an air guitar, the line cook playing Jenga with a towering stack of tomatoes, and the bored woman behind the counter, chomping her gum and watching your bickering approach with interest.

Glancing at Bucky, you flinch at the image. The harsh light throws his wounds into sharp relief, bruises already fading from dark purple to sickly greenish-yellow. The gray t-shirt is shredded and stiff with blood and sweat and what appear to be chocolate fingerprints, lifted from the half-melted M&Ms he found in your glove box.

To be fair, you don’t look much better. The previously elegant heels dangle from loose fingers, speckled with blood and holding two wilted feathers. Covered head to toe in dust and cobwebs, your knees are scraped up and your polished toes curl bare against the floor.

What the hell possessed you to walk barefoot into a 24-hour Taco Bell you’ll never know, but alas. Here you are.

Bucky saunters up to the register and slaps his grimy hands on the counter, giving the woman his most charming smile and what he believes to be a sexy wink. She simply raises an eyebrow and snaps her gum.

“Hello. I want the dollar menu,” Bucky says, squinting up at the sign.

“Which items?”

“All the items,” he replies promptly. “And a diet soda please, not a regular one. I’m cutting back on the calories, apparently I need to watch my weight. The lady here says I’ve been pudging out.”

Pinching the non-existent fat on his washboard of a stomach, he gives her a conspiratorial nod and points back to you.

“I most certainly did not say that,” you huff, glaring at him.

“Yes, you did, you called me fat earlier,” he reminds you. “Remember? When I was on top of you and tried to pull up your dress?”

The woman stares at him and blows a pink bubble. Her eyes slide to you and she gives you a slow nod, the kind that clearly says nice.

“No,” you say sternly, pointing a warning finger. “Christ no. Do not encourage him.”

Bucky laughs, the sound of his husky voice echoing through the restaurant and dammit, he looks like someone threw a brick at his face and used him to sharpen their knives, but he’s still the most attractive man you’ve ever met and how’s that for annoying?

Fifteen minutes later, you’re back on the road, flying along as Bucky holds tight to his food and watches the highway intently, counting out road signs. Finally, he points to a small green number.

“This is it, last stop,” Bucky says, his voice brimming with excitement. “Slow down, the road’s there.”

Arguing is futile, so you follow his directions, turning off the highway and bumping down a narrow strip of unmarked road. The path winds further and further and you wonder at his end game, until the trees suddenly clear and you hit the brakes in surprise.

The night sky extends in front of you, an infinite black road to the stars twinkling above the black ocean waves, a dazzling full moon low on the horizon. The secluded beach is empty, a quiet world existing for you and Bucky alone – and when you turn to him, you see him watching you with an adoring grin.

That damn smile. It gets you every time.

“I swear Barnes, you’re good. You’re really good,” you admit and Bucky tips his head back and starts to laugh.

Climbing from the car, you dig out a plaid blanket from your trunk, and with heels and soda in hand, the echo of crashing waves pulls you through the darkness. Finding a flat space, you fluff the blanket out and collapse, stretching out with a soft groan and closing your eyes.

Bucky drops his bag full of cheesy beef burritos and chicken quesadillas and caramel apple empanadas and kicks off his boots with a matching groan of pleasure. Falling to the blanket he rolls onto his stomach and tears into the food, making his way through each item in silence. Long minutes tick by as the damp breeze blows over your skin and you begin to doze.

“You know,” he finally says, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m calling it. Tonight? Best. Date. Ever. Gonna be hard to top this.”

Rolling to the side, you prop your chin in your hand. “Come again?”

“Yeah, I planned it perfectly! The whole night, it was all things you wanted to do.” He finishes chewing the last bite, tucks the wrappers into the bag and sits up on his knees, ticking off the evening’s events.

“So first, we did a fun couples activity.”

“Me saving you from an ass beating and you snapping a guy’s neck isn’t exactly a couple’s activity, but sure.”

“Second, I got us private box seats, so we could go to a – sold out I might add – classical music concert.”

“I mean, again with the murder and now a massive dry-cleaning bill, but okay.”

“And to cap off the perfect date, we’re having a romantic moonlit picnic on the beach.”

The sarcastic quip balances on the tip of your tongue and in all fairness, Bucky expects a sassy response. Sass is the bedrock of your relationship.

But the words don’t come.

Instead, you absorb the pure beauty of the glowing white sand and of Bucky’s handsome face, reflecting on everything about him that led you here tonight.

He’s incorrigible.

A pain in the ass.

Ridiculous.

Passionate.

Hilarious.

Adorable.

The love of your life.

Damn. You’re head over heels for this idiot.

Nodding slowly, your lips curve into the smile he loves so well, the one that melts his heart, the one he went to outrageous lengths to pull from you tonight.

“Yeah. You’re right Buck. You pretty much nailed it.”

Bucky grins at the compliment. He picks up your left hand, brushes specs of sand away, and places two kisses on your finger.

One above your wedding band, one below.

Contentment sings through his veins and he threads his fingers through yours.

“Happy anniversary honey.”

“Happy anniversary Bucky.”

“Do me a favor, yeah?” Bending closer, he rubs his mouth lightly against your forehead, your nose, your lips. He drinks up the word with a blissful sigh when he hears your reply.

“Anything.”

“Get those heels back on, I ain’t letting them go to waste.”

Laughing, you hand him the shoes and he pulls your legs apart and crawls between them, slipping the heels gently on your feet one at a time, leaving wet kisses on each ankle.

The filthy smile is back.

He tugs up your skirt.

And this time, you go with it.

*****

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #piassummermadnesschallenge #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bitsmasterlist

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