#plus going from being alone and having my freedom to being with relatives all the day every day

[ginkovskij]

by the way i am officially sans emploi and, for a series of circumstances that we'll ignore for the time being, straight back into depression's arms. so if you want to keep me company sometimes in watching a movie or something just dm me

[shzmluvrs]

The Disconnect

Prompt: My random headcanon that pretty much just focuses on that odd... difference in vibe between Billy as himself vs when he's in his superhero form.

Timeline: Both movies

TW/Content: None, just me talking just to talk fr

Reader: None

Requested By: My damn self😼🫶🏽

Back to Master List

So like, duh, Moon and I have like... constant headcannons for like, every single person ever in the Shazam movies. And I did plan to write/list 'em out and post at some point. But this one is my biggest one, so I think it deserves its own post🤷🏽‍♀️.

Anyone who's seen just either one of the movies is pretty aware of that... weird little (but noticeable) disconnect between Asher Angel's Billy Batson and Zachary Levi's Shazam. Asher is a damn good Billy, while Zachary... he's good at being Shazam and acting like a kid who doesn't know what he's doing (which is the overall plot, ofc), but I just can't/don't believe him to be Asher's Billy, if that makes sense (??).

So, while yes, this is a little jarring for viewers, if you're anything like me, you know it's kind of not the end of the world and can be bypassed/looked over. Fixed, even, if had been given the proper attention to do such. And what better way to do that than through some good ol' writer brain🤷🏽‍♀️?

My in-media headcanon for why Billy acts so differently in his super-powered adult form is because he simply just becomes heaps more confident. He knows he's invincible to most things, he's got all these different and god-like powers and abilities, etcetc... So natrually, with those things comes an overwhelming and amazing sense of security, right? Therefore, leading to a surging amount of both confidence/ego and recklessness that you might not see come from some vulnerable, hard-knock-life-stricken, defensive kid.

It also gives him more freedom to come out of his shell (almost forces him to, really), hence why it becomes so much easier for him to talk to/interact with others while he's in his adult form. He almost wants to, because of that classic teenage boy need to show off (for the ladiesss😼🫶🏽⚡️). He gains the chance to actually be a kid, frfr, because he had to grow up and learn to care for himself so soon. Because, hell, it's not like he knew if his powers were a privilege he was gonna get to keep🤷🏽‍♀️. Gotta make the most of it.

Not to mention, poor boy has probably felt all alone and helpless all his life. Constantly having to do things on his own, constantly worried about how he's gonna get by and/or where he's gonna end up next. These abilities are like a free "out", if ykwim. He can essentially do whatever he wants, go wherever he wants now that he can just fly off somewhere...

I'd be eager to run around and do the most over the top shit, too, if it had been me. As Freddy once said, "I'd kill to have what you have...".

Plus, I mean, he is a teenager. A teenage boy, at that. I'm pretty sure no matter how hard and tall you've set up your shell, at the end of the day, if you randomly got superpowers n shit, you'd act a little bit out of normal character, too. Especially if your "normal character" are/is a bunch of walls n shit you've built up to protect yourself from the things that, you now no longer have to, because again... SUPERPOWERS!!

So, to try and wrap this all up, I, personally, am one to believe there's nothing a fanfic or a headcanon can't fix, hence... this lmao. And that's pretty much my way to try and fix/make sense of that disconnect between acting styles so I can properly hyperfixate in peace lmfao. And hopefully, now that you've seen this, you can, too :).

Okay, the end, that's it, goodbye🫶🏽😼.

Headcannons on all characters to come relatively soon, y'all, I promise🫡💕.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

[natsmagi]

i was typing this in the notes to an ask but it gogt waaaay too long lol sorry. prefacing it with you know i love your artwork & i have nothing against what you choose to draw. also possibly worded weird cus i didnt write it in the sense of talking only to you alone

there is certainly this conflict between artists as random individuals and artists as a collective when it comes to how to approach this issue… as a hobbyist you can draw whatever you like but also when you have trends like a lack of fatness thats going to be disheartening too. i think the answer is getting more people into making art (& like general societal change of course since its an issue baked into bigotry.)

because as much as i agree with the sentiment of "there is significant under representation of fat women" (or characters in general) at the same time fandom is a hobby space and i dislike the notion of badgering individual artists to draw any particular thing especially when the source material does not have that thing. if you are looking for artwork of fat women thats great but i would not ever recommend something like enstars that has 1. no fat characters and 2. no women, barring a few exceptions. i think expecting to find fanart of fat women from a source entirely composed of thin men is unrealistic, even with the relative popularity of femstars.

plus there are other complications such as the typical modern fandom f/f scene sometimes being very strict and even vicious at times with their standards of what's enough diversity or what content is appropriate. ive heard a lot of anecdotes about people who WERE contributing to these things but whom were still harassed or got threats from other users over it not being good enough, and that's just not conducive to creating the environment or diversity you want. nobody is going to want to be in a fandom space where they have to walk on eggshells all the time. and i bring this up because of how you were clearly harassed by randos. accusing you of misogyny or shaming other womens' bodies as being "unrealistic" is not the way to go

the only reasonable solution i can think of to this is, again, to just encourage more artists to start drawing in the first place, or even better start contributing yourself. individuals should have the freedom to draw what they like without getting flamed for it AND people should be able to see themselves represented in artwork. i would like to see some more fat characters too, this is definitely something ive thought about before myself

(personally all the fat people i draw are ocs or portraits of people i know that i dont want to post online but maybe if i get some inspiration i will draw the long-sought chubby mugi myself. i am not super interested in femstars though so whether or not itd actually be fem mugi is up in the air. but all the talking here about this topic has had me thinking about following my own advice and putting what i want to see into the world.)

OUGHH THESE ARE ALL GOOD POINTS!! and i agree! the main thing we should be doing is ENCOURAGING people to add more diversity, not harassing them into it! people who only draw for fun arent really obligated to draw anything outside of their comfort zone, which again is why i think its better to simply uplift the idea of trying out new things and new appearances that you dont often draw

theres also SO MUCH room for more femstars artists too! and like ive said before if you wanna see something done right you gotta do it yourself. and i kind of like that. i like that everyone gets to craft their own little femstars variant of the enstars cast, and you can make them look however you want! and honestly? you SHOULD! seeing personal touches to designs always brings me joy, so even if you dont feel very confident in your art, if you have a specific vision for a character that you want brought to life please go ahead and draw it!! (or if you really dont want to you can always commission someone)

i also wanna highlight one of ur last points too bc yea. its unfortunate but often times whenever i see someone try adding diversity to their art for the first time they end up getting flamed because its not an accurate depiction of what they were trying to represent. and that really sucks! obviously we should strive to have accurate representation, but if its an artist that hasnt tried their hand on it before, ESPECIALLY a beginner artist, we shouldnt flame them for it. rather we should educate them on what went wrong and how they can improve for the future. these are people who actually WANT and are TRYING to add diversity to their art, but because in animanga circles theres a lack of education on how to draw more diverse features of really any kind. which is why trying to educate is far better than shaming. because if you shame these artists theyre gonna be too scared to try again, giving us less diversity once more

so yes basically what im saying is i want us all to encourage diversity and to help each other out by sharing resources and tips when it comes to drawing it!! one person is Obviously not gonna be able to do every single thing, which is why i want more people to pick up the pen and bring life to their visions!! also i really want more femstars food pelase pick up the pen i am a starved orphan and only femstars yuri can satiate me!!!!!!!!!

[hirazuki]

It’s his Yule gift to himself ^^ 

Mairon: Sir, for the the last time, we are not calling it Melkortopia! Gothmog: Mairon, calm down, your blood pressure.

Look, it took exactly 21.4 meetings to settle on a name for the new place and now that it’s decided, Mairon is not going through that again.

(I don’t celebrate anything, but Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to those who do!)

Bonus:

Also, this is kind of like. headcanon central here, so some notes for anyone who cares below the cut! 

I��m very partial to the whole “corrupted” elves as the first orcs deal, but I also find the idea of Melkor Mairon (because let’s be honest, who would it be) enacting a subtler corruption and having some Avari as spies acting for him very appealing, and think that these two ideas can and should coexist.

I like to think that Mairon tried for years to get Melkor to see the merit in winning the Avari to their side in general but Melkor was disinterested and didn’t even try, constantly worsening their relations, and eventually he just threw his hands up and went, FINE. NEVERMIND. DESTROY THEM OR WHATEVER.

Even though Melkor does have associations with heat, volcanoes, etc., I think of him as primarily ice/cold/darkness (especially since that contrasts nicely with Mairon’s fire element aspect), so while Utumno would probably need some kind of light source indoors for (at least) his more mundane servants to be able to see what they’re doing, I headcanon that it’s more in the sense of ice crystals or rock/gem lights or something (i.e. light with no heat) plus because that’s also +200 misery points to Mairon because I interpret him as hating the cold ♡. (Whereas Angband is all torches and firelight; once Mairon ends up running things, he’s like, Melkor is away; this is the perfect opportunity to install CENTRAL HEATING.)

I headcanon that, prior to his crown with the silmarils, Melkor didn’t wear one; felt he didn’t need one, his power alone was enough for everyone to recognize his might, and he went without the trappings of rulership in general, being more characterized by his unconventionality, chaos, and freedom. All that changes with the taking of the silmarils, when he starts wearing a crown, staying within his fortress with few exceptions, etc., becoming more weighed down by such things, and he suffers a fundamental change in character. 

Mairon, however, does wear a circlet. As a relative latecomer to Utumno, compared to some other beings, and rising through the ranks to become Melkor’s right-hand man, I like to think he faced some challenges to his authority (from outright opposition to some low-key grumbling), so he made himself a physical indicator of his position. (I also like to think that this attitude resurfaced a bit once Utumno fell and Mairon got put in charge, making his early days of leadership very rocky; but eventually, everyone came to respect him as a leader in his own right... making Melkor’s eventual return also a bit awkward ^^;).

I went back and forth on so many Avari color schemes, but, as usual, ended up defaulting to my favorite dark elf palette, which is Morrowind’s Dunmer XD

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[qqueenofhades]

Do you really hate this county? Or were you just ranting?

Sigh. I debated whether or not to answer this, since I usually keep the real-life/politics/depressing current events to a relative minimum on this blog, except when I really can't avoid ranting about it. But I have some things to get off my chest, it seems, and you did ask. So.

The thing is, any American with a single modicum of genuine historical consciousness knows that despite all the triumphalist mythology about Pulling Up By Our Bootstraps and the American Dream and etc, this country was founded and built on the massive and systematic exploitation and extermination of Black and Indigenous people. And now, when we are barely (400 years later!!!) getting to a point of acknowledging that in a widespread way, oh my god the screaming. I'm so sick of the American right wing I could spit for so many reasons, not least of which is the increasingly reductive and reactive attempts to put the genie back in the bottle and set up hysterical boogeymen about how Teaching Your Children Critical Race Theory is the end of all things. They have forfeited all pretense of being a real governing party; remember how their only platform at the 2020 RNC was "support whatever Trump says?" They have devolved to the point where the cruelty IS the point, to everyone who doesn't fit the nakedly white supremacist mold. They don't have anything to do aside from attempt to usher in actual, literal, dictionary-definition-of-fascism and sponsor armed revolts against the peaceful transfer of power.

That is fucking exhausting to be aware of all the time, especially with the knowledge that if we miss a single election cycle -- which is exceptionally easy to do with the way the Democratic electorate needs to be wooed and courted and herded like cats every single time, rather than just getting their asses to the polls and voting to keep Nazis out of office -- they will be right back in power again. If Manchin and Sinema don't get over their poseur pearl-clutching and either nuke the filibuster or carve out an exception for voting rights, the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is never going to get passed, no matter how many boilerplate appeals the Democratic leadership makes on Twitter. In which case, the 2022 midterms are going to give us Kevin McCarthy, Speaker of the House (I threw up in my mouth a little typing that) and right back to the Mitch McConnell Obstruction Power Hour in the Senate. The Online Left (TM) will then blame the Democrats for not doing more to stop them. These are, of course, the same people who refused to vote for Hillary Clinton out of precious moral purity reasons in 2016, handed the election to Trump, and now like to complain when the Trump-stacked Supreme Court reliably churns out terrible decisions. Gee, it's almost like elections have consequences!!

Aside from my exasperation with the death-cult right-wing fascists and the Online Left (TM), I am sick and tired of how forty years of "trickle-down" Reaganomics has created a world where billionaires can just fly to space for the fun of it, while the rest of America (and the world) is even more sick, poor, overheated, economically deprived, and unable to survive the biggest public health crisis in a century, even if half the elected leadership wasn't actively trying to sabotage it. Did you know that half of American workers can't even afford a one-bedroom apartment? Plus the obvious scandal that is race relations, health care, paid leave, the education system (or lack thereof), etc etc. I'm so tired of this America Is The Greatest Country in the World mindless jingoistic catchphrasing. We are an empire in the late stages of collapse and it's not going to be pretty for anyone. We have been poisoned on sociopathic-libertarian-selfishness-disguised-as-Freedom ideology for so long that that's all there is left. We have become a country of idiots who believe everything their idiot friends post on social media, but in a very real sense, it's not directly those individuals' fault. How could they, when they have been very deliberately cultivated into that mindset and stripped of critical thinking skills, to serve a noxious combination of money, power, and ideology?

I am tired of the fact that I have become so drained of empathy that when I see news about more people who refused to get the vaccine predictably dying of COVID, my reaction is "eh, whatever, they kind of deserved it." I KNOW that is not a good mindset to have, and I am doing my best to maintain my personal attempts to be kind to those I meet and to do my small part to make the world better. I know these are human beings who believed what they were told by people that they (for whatever reason) thought knew better than them, and that they are part of someone's family, they had loved ones, etc. But I just can't summon up the will to give a single damn about them (I'm keeping a bingo card of right-wing anti-vax radio hosts who die of COVID and every time it's like, "Alexa, play Another One Bites The Dust.") The course that the pandemic took in 21st-century America was not preordained or inevitable. It was (and continues to be) drastically mismanaged for cynical political reasons, and the legacy of the Former Guy continues to poison any attempts to bring it under control or convince people to get a goddamn vaccine. We now have over 100,000 patients hospitalized with COVID across the country -- more than last summer, when the vaccines weren't available.

I have been open about my fury about the devaluation of the humanities and other critical thinking skills, about the fact that as an academic in this field, my chances of getting a full-time job for which I have trained extensively and acquired a specialist PhD are... very low. I am tired of the fact that Americans have been encouraged to believe whatever bullshit they fucking please, regardless of whether it is remotely true, and told that any attempt to correct them is "anti-freedom." I am tired of how little the education system functions in a useful way at all -- not necessarily due to the fault of teachers, who have to work with what they're given, and who are basically heroes struggling stubbornly along in a profession that actively hates them, but because of relentless under-funding, political interference, and furious attempts, as discussed above, to keep white America safely in the dark about its actual history. I am tired of the fact that grade school education basically relies on passing the right standardized tests, the end. I am tired of the implication that the truth is too scary or "un-American" to handle. I am tired. Tired.

I know as well that "America" is not synonymous in all cases with "capitalist imperialist white-supremacist corporate death cult." This is still the most diverse country in the world. "America" is not just rich white middle-aged Republicans. "America" involves a ton of people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, Jews, Christians of good will (I have a whole other rant on how American Christianity as a whole has yielded all pretense of being any sort of a principled moral opposition), white allies, etc etc. all trying to make a better world. The blue, highly vaccinated, Biden-winning states and counties are leading the economic recovery and enacting all kinds of progressive-wishlist dream policies. We DID get rid of the Orange One via the electoral process and avert fascism at the ballot box, which is almost unheard-of, historically speaking. But because, as also discussed above, certain elements of the Democratic electorate need to fall in love with a candidate every single time or threaten to withhold their vote to punish the rest of the country for not being Progressive Enough, these gains are constantly fragile and at risk of being undone in the next electoral cycle. Yes, the existing system is a crock of shit. But it's what we've got right now, and the other alternative is open fascism, which we all got a terrifying taste of over the last four years. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go back.

So... I don't know. I don't know if that stacks up to hate. I do hate almost everything about what this country currently is, structurally speaking, but I recognize that is not identical with the many people who still live here and are trying to do their best, including my friends, family, and myself. I am exhausted by the fact that as an older millennial, I am expected to survive multiple cataclysmic economic crashes, a planet that is literally boiling alive, a barely functional political system run on black cash, lies, and xenophobia, a total lack of critical thinking skills, renewed assaults on women/queer people/POC/etc, and somehow feel like I'm confident or prepared for the future. Not all these problems are only America's fault alone. The West as a whole bears huge responsibility for the current clusterfuck that the world is in, for many reasons, and so do some non-Western countries. But there is no denying that many of these problems have ultimate American roots. See how the ongoing fad for right-wing authoritarian strongmen around the world has them modeling themselves openly on Trump (like Brazil's lunatic president, Jair Bolsonaro, who talks all the time about how Trump is his political role model). See what's going on in Afghanistan right now. Etc. etc.

Anyway. I am very, very tired. There you have it.

[ldss-interactive]

At Alter’s End: A CYOA Novel

Overview:

Trentworth, Maine. A town of ten thousand southeast of Ellsworth and North of Bayside. Its only bragging point since its conception in 1867 was being a shoreline city and cheaper than any of the other big tourist towns. Nothing ever happened here, besides the occasional drowning or fishing trip accident, until the killings started. They lasted five years in total and 48 people were lost to the killer’s sick desires. Robert Hall terrorized this small town, slipping under the radar by focusing on those considered “undesirable”; sex workers, orphans, drug addicts, and the like. Now ten years later, ten years after the killer has been put behind bars, murders have begun again. A copycat killer has come to Trentworth. And they seem to be targeting the ones left behind, still trying to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives…

You take the role of a highschool senior; your parents having died in a home fire shortly before the killer was put behind bars and now under the care of your workaholic aunt. Make allies of your classmates or attempt to go it alone, clear your parents’ name from their believed involvement with the killer or fight to put the past behind you, deal with the skeletons in your closet and mind or bury them deeper... Oh, and make sure your history project is turned in on time. With two young siblings depending on you and a whole host of problems a highschool student should never have to deal with, can you survive this nightmare made real?

Trigger Warnings: This game will go into very heavy topics including the following; murder, death, various mental health issues (such as PTSD, depression, and anxiety), abandonment, gambling, various types of drug addiction, self harm mentions (not happening to the MC or shown in graphic detail), suicide, sex work, child abuse (mental, emotional, and physical), and dangerous situations. This is a murder mystery/thriller, it is NOT intended for audiences below 18.

Hello! Thank you for showing interest in At Alter’s End. This is a Choose Your Own Adventure style novel in the Thriller and Murder Mystery genres. It would also fit nicely in the Drama genre as well, but Drama is not the focus. This will be a rather lengthy project, with fifteen chapters plus a prologue and epilogue planned.

You take on the role of a senior at Trentworth High. Join an after-school activity, take care of your younger siblings, prepare for finals, get a part time job, find a date to homecoming, and survive your worst nightmare come to life. The copycat killer is targeting the students of your school and no one is safe. With the police dragging their feet, no help coming any time soon from any higher up law enforcement, and the locals refusing to acknowledge the possibility of a copycat killer, it’s up to you and your classmates to find the person responsible...before it’s too late.

- You can play as female, male, nonbinary, or trans!

- You can be straight, gay, or bisexual!

- A highly customizable MC including hair color, eye color, skin color, hair length, height, and personality and interests!

- The ability to choose which mental illness the MC suffers from due to the trauma of their past from the following:

Anxiety, Depression, or PTSD.

- The MC is deaf in their right ear ear due to the way in which their parents died; this is not something that can be changed.

- Choose from 7 different official after-school activities! Trentworth Volunteers, Up and Coming Artists, National Debate Society, National Honors Society, Co-Ed Varsity Basketball, Creative Writing, and Trentworth Gardeners!

- Bond with your classmates, explore your town, and help raise your younger siblings!

- Rescue your parents’ bakery from corporate clutches or let it go!

- Find the killer, stop the murders, and put a stop to the rumors that have plagued your every step for 10 years!

Vanya: Oldest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive siblings, 6 years younger than MC. Strong-headed, intelligent, and always getting into trouble. She looks after her brother and MC in the ways she can.

Ajay: Youngest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive sibling, 6 years younger than MC. Nearly completely blind since birth, he enjoys painting and other artistic endeavors. Obedient yet opinionated.

Aunt Emma: The workaholic aunt that takes custody of MC and their younger siblings after the death of their parents. Well meaning but absent most of the time on business trips or at the office.

Kwan Hall: An adoptive relative to Robert Hall; aloof, intelligent, and completely ostracized by Trentworth as a whole. When the killings start again the town’s attention is immediately turned on Kwan. He’s the first to begin investigating the killings when the police prove their incompetence. He is of Korean descent, standing at 5’6” with dark hair and dark eyes. His most notable feature is the long scar that stretches from his forehead’s hairline, down his left temple, and ends just below his jawline and the constant disinterest on his face. He is asexual in that he doesn’t experience sexual attraction at all. He is also bisexual.

Alessia D’Agostina: Trentworth High’s school president. She’s clawed her way tooth and nail up to earn the respect of both the school faculty and her fellow classmates; she’s strong-willed, dependable, and always looks at things through a logical lens. When she sees her classmates dying, she takes it upon herself to try and stop this once and for all. With dark skin, deep brown eyes, long braided hair, and standing at 5’8” her confidence and sense of self always make sure she stands out from the crowd. Alessia is bisexual.

Georgiy Kuzmin: Twin brother to Anastasiya Kuzmin; he is, in the kindest way possible, not the brightest bulb in the box. Yet he always means well and is more than willing to offer a helping hand. As the co-captain of the basketball team, captain of the baseball team, and the star of the swim team, Georgiy is one of the most popular and well beloved students at Trentworth High. When he realizes his friends are in danger, he willingly throws himself into the investigation to do all he can to help. With fair skin, dirty blond hair, bubbly green eyes, and standing at 6’1” he cuts an approachable figure to anyone who knows him. Georgiy is gay.

Anastasiya Kuzmin: Twin sister to Georgiy Kuzmin: she and her brother are alike in so many ways apart from just appearance. Anastasiya, who goes by Ana more often than not, is head of the Co-Ed Varsity Basketball team, the Girls’ softball team, and the Tennis team. Just as popular and loved as her brother, Ana may not be the smartest but she makes up for it with passion and dedication. Like her brother, she has fairer skin, dirty blond hair, and bright green eyes. Also like her brother, she felt she couldn’t just sit around while her friends were put in danger and agreed to join the investigation. Ana is gay and demiromantic, meaning she only gains feelings for someone after having a strong relationship with them.

Lillian Triano: A quiet, withdrawn girl who mainly keeps to herself. Due to the fact that Trentworth High demands for every senior to be apart of an elective, she is mainly seen in afterschool reading club run by Ms. Habeeb. She’s MC’s closest friend, having been one of the only people who didn’t believe the rumors that MC’s parents were assisting Robert Hall in his murders. She has an olive complexion, brown eyes, a heavy dose of freckles, and stands at 5’1”. Lillian is gay.

Jasmine Abernathy: Jasmine is Trentworth High’s self proclaimed “Best news source!” After the school newspaper was disbanded, Jasmine took it upon herself to keep freedom of the press alive. She’s fierce in her pursuit of the truth and never one to back down from a fight, though her rash attitude can get her into some sticky situations on occasion. With vibrant red hair, dark brown eyes, and standing at 5’3” she puts the term “fire” in Fire Signs. (She’s an Aries in astrology!) When the copycat killings began, it was no surprise when she took the case head on. Jasmine is bisexual.

Asa San Nicholas: Asa is the oldest of a set of triplets; they’re the type to march to the beat of their own drum, often not listening to what anyone has to say about themselves or their interests. Asa is a firm believer in the paranormal and it isn’t uncommon to find them indulging in their interest in various ways. “The spirits are distrubed. These deaths aren’t meant to happen.” Asa’s reason for getting involved seems to tie directly back to their “connection” with the spirits of the town. Asa has black hair, most often tied in a ponytail, hazel eyes, and an olive skin tone. At 6’4” they tower over most everyone...something they seem to enjoy a great deal. Asa doesn’t see gender and is interested in people regardless of how they present.

Leo San Nicholas: The middle of the triplets. They are genderfluid, okay with any pronouns. Leo is, for lack of a better word, eccentric. A bit of an adrenaline junkie, you can often find them cliff diving or giving their siblings heart attacks by playing russian roulette with a chocolate gun. To them, it isn’t fun if there isn’t a little danger involved; naturally, an investigation into a serial killer scratches that itch quite nicely. Their black hair is clipped short, multiple piercings visible on each ear, and their heterochromatic hazel and green eyes are often stated to stare through a person. Although Leo is genderfluid, they are only interested in people who present as female.

The demo is upcoming! When it is available I will make a post announcing it! I will also update this post with the link! This game is written in choicescript; the demo will be published on Dashingdon and the final game will be published for free on itch.io. I am open for questions regarding this game/novel and once the demo is published I will also be publishing a link to my Ko-fi! Until then, please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions!

[marygaby25]

Warning: a lot of text 

Okay. I know it took me a long time to post about this, but I wanted to organize my thoughts well. I don't like to be writing with my head hot, angry, disappointed, frustrated and sad. Waiting to not have those feelings I was never going to write this. With that cleared up let's talk about "What If?"

To say I wasn't expecting Sharon to be treated badly again would be lying. I was surprised that she showed up and relatively everything was fine (until she was killed obviously). I'm not going to lie it gave me hope, but what surprised me were the writer's words saying that he killed Sharon because he likes Steggy and that he wanted to give her a more grotesque death that Sharon had "Because Steve is Peggy's."

I will admit that I moved a little further away from the UCM series and its projects after "The Falcon and The Winter Soldier" Sharon was damaged and harmed again by making her a villain, the writer threw away the work that Emily had done saying that Sharon's moral code was too strong. Not to mention, Sharon has never and never been a villain at will (when she "killed" Steve in Civil War Sharon was under Faust's control) and the power broker is another character in the comics.

Again I walked away a bit more after watching the BlackWidow movie because we never saw that funeral that Nastasha deserved, just a grave with flowers left by people. We never got to see a funeral like Tony's or Yondu's, not even in her movie did they take the time to give her that moment.

I confess I was just reading the synopsis and watching summaries of the series. I watched the Zombie episode because a friend told me "you will be pleasantly surprised and heartbroken at the same time''. So I made the decision to give "What if?" a chance.

Everything was going well, more than well because I was watching Sharon (I almost died of happiness), I see Happy's death and Sharon apologizing and I got sad, but it was going more or less well.... Until I see how Okoye kills Sam, she apologizes to Bucky for killing him and the only thing she replies is something like she's not sad about it...

WTF!!!!  The chapter is set between civil war and infinity war, Sam at that point had already risked his freedom and his life for Bucky. Bucky makes that comment so out of place, cold and ungrateful after Sam helped save him.

I keep watching because I thought it couldn't get any worse HA, HA, HA I'm such a fool for thinking that.

After a while I notice Sharon in the last car of the train, and what goes through my mind is, "Why is she alone in the last car if she only has Tony's glove and not the gun?". She heard the blow and immediately already knew the worst was yet to come, it was all downhill from there.

It is Steve who kills her. At the time I think it's kind of poetic because in the line of movies he took it upon himself to kill the idealistic and innocent Sharon Carter; by abandoning her the two years of fugitives and not looking for her. I guess watching deep movies like "The Shape of Water" and expecting that from Marvel was asking a lot.

Bucky kills Steve and apologizes, but Sam doesn't give him an ounce of grief for his death and Hope blows Sharon up from the inside. It was atrocious, but it's a zombie chapter my naive mind imagined there would be crueler and darker things. There was something just as dark if not darker which was Vision feeding off innocents to Wanda.

Let's continue watching the chapter and let's count how some characters died.

Well, Hope dies sacrificing herself I think it was a dignified death, it follows the death of Okoye who sacrifices herself for her king, I thought it was a normal thing because doremilages are supposed to fight for their kingdom and their king with their life. I hated that he said it was his fault for separating them, because no character objected when he gave the order, only Peter and in a joking tone. Follow up with the death of Kurt, Vision and Bucky. Simply Bucky's death this time for that action towards Sam, it didn't hurt. 

The chapter ends with them with a possible cure and heading to wakanda where zombie thanos was waiting for them.

The bitterness that the chapter left me with was immense. The cruelest death and followed by joke was Sharon's, to the point that they minimized it and placed it to finish diverting Sharon's attention by exploiting everywhere the infected Hope scene. Sam's was the most blatant because it's not subliminal, it's direct with the words of "Bucky" saying he didn't care. I put Bucky in quotes because we all know it was the screenwriter, the Bucky we know in the MCU and comics wouldn't say that.

I thought I was paranoid suspecting Sharon's death was the cruelest and least taken seriously apropos...until I hear about the interview and realize how unprofessional the screenwriter is. What hypocrisy to say he loves Sharon on twitter after what he stated in the interview. I expected Matthew Chauncey to keep his word, not like a coward that when he gets caught he backs down seeing that he screwed up and we don't support him. 

What happened in the series and in that interview is an example that the bad treatment of Sharon exists. It is not something invented by the fans, it is something on the part of the directors, writers and actors. I still don't forget Hayley Atwell's comment who said that peggy seeing that kiss in Civil War that Steve gave Sharon Peggy would revive, she would shoot Steve and Sharon would get beaten up.

I think Hayley,the writers and directors forgot that Peggy was happy with Daniel Sousa as far as we knew, even though in Agents of SHIELD they put Daniel with Quake.... It doesn't make sense, but as always they didn't want to let the series die and they tried hard to keep up with the ucm no matter that it would damage the plot of the series, which was what they should focus on (I don't know if the series is canon anymore because they even uploaded it to Disney plus).

the scriptwriters had never seen the series of agent Carter nor any of Peggy's comics (she doesn't have comics, but she has appearances) because she loves her niece, the little that comes out makes it clear. I'm not going to ask you to read all the comics either, just the most recent one where Agatha tells Steve a little more about the daughters of liberty and that possibly for Peggy Steve was just her first mission, maybe he's a good friend, for her and no more from there. Fun fact, at the end I didn't see Peggy angry trying to shoot them while they were sitting in the garden with Sharon and Steve for being together.  Even when Steve found out she was alive he had no indication of leaving Sharon or getting romantically excited, rather he was walking around angry at Peggy , Sam and Bucky for not telling him about the risk to Sharon's life (Especially Peggy because it was more personal with her more than Sharon for killing the villain's husband. basically Sharon was kind of a target to somehow hurt Peggy). I imagine if they read it that comic or any other they would be frothing at the mouth.

I don't want to be pessimistic, but I saw "What if ?" and I doubt they will place Sharon as a Skrull, Mystique, mind control or give her a redemption. It's going to happen what happens with UCM villains, they'll kill her off. In fact, something tells me that they will try to make her crueler than the Red Skull to justify a horrible death. In case she's mystique or a Skull they'll probably say she's dead and won't even take the time to show it on screen.

Not only "What if?" made me lose hope "The Falcon and winter Soldier" too, remember I had posted that it looked like Sharon would be the Power Broker, but I doubted they would because she was another character in the comics. Well, hearing that statement in the interview anything is possible. By the way, I thank him for screwing Steve, since in the five years of the devastation he never helped Sam's family. I exclude Natasha from this as she was taking care of the avengers; Thor was depressed and didn't even know Sam; Tony had to take care of his family; Rhodey didn't know Sam well enough to know he had a family and Clint was in mourning.

Sorry for the language and clarify that I'm not throwing hate at Hayley, nor the directors and writers just showing that they didn't behave well neither with Sharon, nor with Emily

by the way, remember that meme I posted a while back about no character should be hated because of their shipp, I still hold that thought now more than ever. I think it fits perfectly with the screenwriter's behavior. 

to those who made it this far thank you for reading my ramblings 

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 4 (Waves)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, suggestive content, mentions of marking, angst (kinda maybe sort of?). Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s Note: So I’m trying to not make every story super depressing. At least for now. So I took a shot at some average fluff for Jihoon’s chapter. Let me know what you think! It’s a bit short, but I’ll edit it some more to juice it up when I have the free time.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️

Lonely Together Masterlist

Chapter 4: Waves

You were still getting used to everything, which no one could blame you for. You weren’t used to being around humans let alone lovey happy couples all the time. It was all… disorienting to you. You understood why the rest of the pack acted the way they did with their mates, in a way you also felt some primal need to be the same with Jihoon. But it was just… quite a big adjustment for you.

It wasn’t bad by any means! You knew you’d get the hang of most of it eventually. But there were some things you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to. Like the constant PDA of the couples around you. You didn’t understand the need to be that close to someone all the time or need to be that handsy. You always wondered if maybe Jihoon wanted to be like that, but you never really had the courage to ask in case you wouldn’t like his answer.

You also knew you’d never really like the fact that the pack seemed to refer to you more as a mate than as a wolf. You grew up being a wolf above all else, you considered yourself a wolf first. Now, you were Jihoon’s mate. Just one of the girls. You ate with them, you hung out with them, and you were treated like them even though you were just as strong if not more so than most of the males. Soonyoung didn’t get treated that way even though he was technically Seungcheol’s mate. It seemed unfair. That thought seemed to leave a bitter metallic taste in your mouth, but you just dealt with it because that’s just how it was now.

And you knew you’d NEVER understand the need to give your partner sweet little gooey nicknames. I mean, who the hell decided it was an adorable idea to start calling the person they fuck baby? How the hell was that SUPPOSED to be cute? It was creepy to you. You could tell it visibly bothered Jihoon that you hadn’t called him anything other than his given name, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to call him by anything else. Every cutesy petname you could think of just felt… wrong to you. Sweetheart? Shit didn’t make sense. Hearts were NOT sweet. Sugar? He wasn’t composed of glucose or fructose so that wasn’t right. Prince? He wasn’t royalty, well, at least not that neither of you knew of. Daddy? Even creepier than baby. So you just opted to leave it at Jihoon.

As for you and Jihoon, you’d been doing alright. You were still rather shy around each other, but you were definitely more obvious in your affection with each other. For instance, at breakfast you always seemed to find yourself scooting your chair as close to his as you could manage. And he always made sure you were within his sight. You weren’t sure why. Where could you have possibly gone when you were stuck with a bunch of wolves? But it did make the chambers of your heart constrict extra whenever you noticed him trying to look for you. You had to admit, It was kinda cute.

There was still one problem. You two hadn’t… consummated your bond yet. You were still unmarked even though it had now been weeks of being in the same house together. He hadn’t even tried to sleep with you. It had you confused, shouldn’t he have wanted to have sex with you by now?

-

“Dude quit being a little bitch and just do it already!” Soonyoung groaned at his younger brother while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

You were currently outside learning how to play soccer with Somi, just far enough away to where you couldn’t hear what was going on inside. They were all watching you guys from the window. You felt someone staring at you so you looked up from the ball next to your feet towards the house. Your mate was eyeing you and had a fond smile flashing brightly at your from his spot. You gave him a sweet one back with a little wave added before you continued on with your fancy foot maneuvering past the younger girl and scored a goal, causing you to jet your hands in the air in celebration. God he loved you.

Jihoon looked away to sigh and he ran his shakey hand through his slick hair, “But how am I supposed to do that? You fuckers are here every second of everyday and she can hear everything that goes on the same as I can. You’re all way too distracting. If she’s anything like me-” He was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Which she is.” Mingyu stated with a giant grin on his face while crossing his arms over his chest.

“IF she’s anything like me, she doesn’t want you guys listening in or around when we’re going at it. She’s too private for that” Jihoon emphasized, trying his best to contain his annoyance at the taller boy for his smugness, “Plus, you’re all too lovey with each other, it makes us both awkward and uncomfortable.” He admitted.

Joshua laughed and slapped his hands on his knees where he was sitting down at the table, “So you’re telling me that WE make YOU GUYS uncomfortable? Have you ever even been in the same room with yourself? You’re both ridiculously intimidating to the girls because you’re so quiet. WE know it’s because you’re just shy. But THEY all think you’re some sort of psycho killer dude!”

“Yeah if looks could kill, we’d all have been long dead by now!” Snorted Wonwoo, who had his arm wrapped around his mate possessively.

Jihoon raised his chest out defiantly, slightly annoyed at his pack mates for making fun of his cold exterior, “Yeah? Well at least I can keep my hands off my mate for more than a split second!”

He never really understood the need to keep partners away from other people. That is, until the other day when Chan had accidentally brushed up against your front while trying to reach for a plate. He all but chewed him up and spit him out for it, though you didn’t know that as he did it once you had gone up to bed. He couldn’t help it. His inner wolf just snapped at the poor kid. Though looking back, he’d still do it again. No one should be touching you but him.

“Not for long. You’re getting soft. You’re laughing more at the things she says, you’re joining us on errands more because she goes with, you’re getting more and more protective over her because she’s not marked and you don’t want anyone taking her away from you” Mingyu proudly spoke up much to Jihoon’s shock. He happy that he had taken the smaller wolf off guard with his statement, “You’re getting just as whipped man. You want my advice?” He asked, seeming pretty genuine with his question.

Jihoon nodded at him. Mingyu was surprisingly one of the few who could actually keep a few feet’s distance from his mate. Out of everyone in the pack, he would’ve DEFINITELY expected him to be the one most likely to be attached to his lovers side. But he when he found his mate, he didn’t get possessive over her at all. He just let her do her own thing with relative freedom. He figured he must have had some sort of secret behind being able to control himself and, for your sake, Jihoon figured he should take any help he could get before he got bad.

“Mark her as soon as you can. It helps. You wont get as jealous, at least around us, because we’ll smell you on her.” He shrugged towards his elder, quickly going over and kissing the top of his mates head who was sitting on the ground braiding Josh’s mates hair.

The thought of marking you sent a weird feeling through Jihoon’s veins. He WANTED to. But the real question was, would you LET him? “I don’t know. It could help I guess. But again, you bitches are always here and if I EVER want to do anything with her, you assholes can’t be anywhere near or she’ll refuse.”

“Okay okay! What if we were to all go visit Taeyong’s pack later? Then would you get the stick out of your ass and just fucking get it over with?” Seungcheol interjected with a heavy chuckle.

He was just as glad that his younger brother found you as everyone else. He really needed you in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So he knew he had to help him figure out how to finally make things ‘official’ with you.

Jihoon thought for a moment. There didn’t seem to be a reason why that couldn’t work. He’d just have to make sure you knew to stay behind which, considering how touchy feely the others were, you’d probably be more than happy with that, “That’s….. actually a good idea.”

“Yeah no shit Sherlock. That’s why he suggested it” sneered Jeonghan. Jihoon sent him a small warning growl before Hannie went and collected the other mates and boys to tell them the new plan for the day.

He couldn’t lie, he was super fucking nervous. Other than that day you found out you two were mates, he hadn’t been left alone with you. At least not completely. There was always someone how because of how many people that lived in the house. He didn’t have much experience with girls. He had more experience than you did, but he was still trying to grasp the whole ‘mating’ thing. He didn’t know where to even start. He couldn’t just go up to you and go “hey I need to mark you or I’m gonna go crazy so we need to fuck like rabbits.” I mean, what kind of loser did that? He had to start thinking of a more subtle approach.

And, as if on cue, in came you and Somi from outside after Jeonghan had called for you both from outside. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from being in the sun and your hair that was once put up in a neat ponytail was now falling out in locks towards the rest of your face. You had grass stains on your knees and you had a bit of dirt on your forehead. You looked like you had gotten into a fight with the ground when in all reality, it was just your first time playing a child’s game.

“So, we’re going somewhere?” Somi ran up and kissed Chan on the cheek before he cuddled her in his arms.

“Yeah. WE are. THEY’RE staying here.” He let a playful grin plaster on his face as he pointed at your and your mate.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion, “We are? Why’s that?”

Chan gulped down his dry throat and shifted his eyes towards Jihoon, who was now staring daggers into him, “Oh… um- well… because…”

“Because we’re gonna be doing coupley shit over at Taeyong’s today and Jihoon said you wouldn’t want to watch us make out.” His sentence was quickly interrupted by the oldest alpha, much to your mate’s relief as his answer seemed to satisfy you.

“Ew yeah no. I’ll stay here that sounds gross,” you shook your head and scrunched up your nose in disgust, “Though I think I’ll take a shower. I feel almost as gross as you all are together.” You chuckled as you mad your way up the stairs and to the bathroom.

-

A little while later after everyone had got themselves together and understood why they suddenly had to leave, they began to head towards the door to depart. You were now upstairs in your bedroom, a towel tightly wrapped around your body and hair as you read a book to work on your Korean. You were pretty good with the actual speaking portion of the language, minus your accent of course, but you were still having a bit of trouble with the spelling and reading. And since it was the native language of most of the people who lived in the house, you figured it was best you study up on it a bit more to become more fluent.

Before you knew it, the others had left. You began focusing on a page of plural ways of speech and were brought out of your gaze by a soft voice near the doorway of your bedroom, “How’s the studying coming along?”

“It’s going about as well as dealing with humans after centuries of avoiding them.” You figured, putting your book down on the bedside table and looking at your mate who was now moving to sit at the end of your bed.

“That bad huh?” He joked while bringing his hand to touch your naked thigh. It brought a light pink blush to your cheeks, but you did your best to avoid it as much as possible and continued the conversation.

You shrugged the heat one your face away, “It comes and goes in Waves. Besides, It could be worse”

“And how’s that?” Jihoon questioned, giving you a tilted head in response.

“I could have had to go watch all the other suck face all day with another pack.” You laughed in amusement at your own joke.

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before he responded, “Well… yeah… about that…” he trailed in an effort to avoid the situation.

“What about it?”

“Wellllll….” He took a deep breath in so he could finish his sentence, “They decided to leave for me- well for us- so we could… have some time alone together…” he brought his newly hot face down to look at his lap so he didn’t have to look you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Alone time?” You bit your lip to hold back a knowing grin. You knew exactly what he was trying to say. But you really wanted to HEAR him say the words. Half to confirm your suspicions, half so that he would squirm a bit.

“Uh yeah. Alone time…” he started to pick at his nails to distract himself. He had never really been this nervous before. Why was he even nervous? You were his mate. It’s not like you’d have an issue with it all… right?

Your pulse was starting to race. The thought of what could happen was heating your body up to the point of concern. You weren’t sure why you were reacting this way, maybe it was because he was your mate, maybe it was because now you could go into heat, you didn’t know. But you did know that if he was going where you thought he was going with his sentence, you’d definitely not be complaining.

You gave him a wondering look, “What do you mean by alone time?” You faked innocence in your question, playing with the edge of the towel wrapped around your body.

He groaned in frustration and threw himself to the bed, landing on his back with a light thud while his hands found their way to his face, “They all left so I could mark you okay?? I knew you wouldn’t want to do anything like that with them here. But I knew I needed to do it soon so that my jealousy wouldn’t get the best of me. So Cheol agreed to have everyone leave for the day so we could just-get it over with” He sighed out, hands still covering his eyes so he could ignore your no doubt astonished face.

But instead, you found yourself straddling him in your easily droppable attire. His hands automatically sent themselves down to hold your hips once his body realized what was happening.

“You know, you could’ve just said that to begin with you know” you seductively let out. His face was absolutely stunned at your sudden behavior change. What actual fucking alien world had he stepped in when he came into your shared room?

(Updated 9/16)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I'm very curious to hear your take on Zuko as a disabled character? All of your analyses of disability in fiction have been very interesting to read so far, thank you for sharing your thoughts/expertise.

Thank you!  Follow-on from this post about Toph.

What I mean by saying Zuko is a disabled character: the social model of disability basically states that disability is any bodily difference that gets problematized and/or treated as abnormal by society.  This definition includes facial differences, AKA any scarring, skin marking, and so on that leads to staring by nondisabled society or other forms of stigma based on the person’s appearance.  Part of the reason for this inclusion is about complicating the disabled-nondisabled dichotomy; facial difference and facial scarring are identities within that framework.  Part of the reason comes from the U.S.’s history of Ugly Laws, which literally made it illegal for people with facial differences to appear in public in some cities as late as 1974.  Part of it is the huge overlap between ableism (giving more privileges to the nondisabled) and lookism (giving more privileges to the normatively beautiful).

Avatar: The Last Airbender has some high-quality anti-ableism in showing Zuko’s story, including how other characters respond to Zuko and how Zuko’s appearance informs but does not define his characterization.

One of the ways this comes out is by turning nondisabled characters’ gaze back on them:

In “The Serpent’s Pass,” Jet says to Zuko “You know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were…” and then goes on to describe his almost hilariously wrong conclusion that Zuko’s a Freedom Fighter waiting to happen because Zuko’s village was presumably also destroyed by the Fire Nation.  We get to see Zuko’s moment of terror that he actually has been recognized turn into incredulity as he then gets invited to join a guerrilla force opposing everything he (currently) stands for.  Jet looks stupid for jumping to conclusions based on appearances.

In both “Zuko Alone” and “The Cave of Two Lovers,” that same jumping-to-conclusions works in Zuko’s favor, because both Song’s mother and Li’s parents assume that anyone with a burn scar must be a veteran of the fight against the Fire Nation.  Again, the emphasis is on the fact that the people judging Zuko based on his appearance are wrong.

In “The Chase,” Azula becomes the only person we ever see mock Zuko for his appearance, when she covers her own left eye to draw out the “family resemblance” for Aang.  The moment gets a horrified reaction out of Aang — Zuko’s his enemy, but Aang also realizes that this is a nasty thing to do — and helps to establish Azula as not just a villain, but a sadistic one.

In “The Beach,” Zuko blows up at Ty Lee for commenting that stress can cause breakouts.  His response is unnecessarily mean-spirited, but it also draws attention to the relative level of privilege (the biggest skin problem she has to worry about is acne) that informed her careless comment.

In “Crossroads of Destiny,” Zuko assumes that, when Katara calls him “the face of the enemy,” it’s a way of calling him frightening to look at — and it’s Katara who looks like a jerk for implying it, even accidentally.

The other big way that this comes out is clapping back at the implied treatment of disability as demanding explanation, or the “But why are you like this?” form of ableism:

The show makes it clear that Zuko does not owe anyone — not Song, not Li, not Jet, not his crew, not his friends — an explanation for why he looks the way he does.  None of the Gaang ever ask Zuko what happened, and the few characters who do (Li, Song, Lieutenant Jee) don’t end up looking good when they do so.

“The Cave of Two Lovers” clearly underlines the show’s theme of “my body, my business” in the scene where Song tries to touch Zuko’s face.  The tone (including literal musical tones) signals that Song is being inappropriate and invasive.  It’s understandable that she wants to make a connection, but it’s also emphatically not okay to touch body parts of strangers one has not received permission to touch.

To be clear, taking people’s ostrich-horses is also not okay, Zuko, but Baby’s First Grand Theft Auto helps drive home just how thoroughly Song has let her curiosity and rudeness sour a budding connection.  It also shows that, while she’s right that she and Zuko have some things in common, she has privileges he lacks because she doesn’t have to disclose her scars if she doesn’t feel like it.  Plus, that moment contrasts to Katara and Mai both touching Zuko’s cheek — Katara just after they’ve shared a moment of vulnerability, Mai just before they start smooching — because they’re both doing so in a way that’s respectful to Zuko himself.

When he wakes up from a dream of turning into Aang, the first thing Zuko does is touch his left eye to make sure he’s still himself.  It’s part of his identity, and the only time we see adolescent Zuko without it (earlier in the dream sequence) it’s a way of showing that Zuko isn’t truly himself.

Zuko grapples with the fact that he’s always going to bear evidence of having survived abuse, and a big part of his character journey is concluding that he’s free to make whatever meaning he chooses of that scar, regardless of what Ozai might’ve intended.

There are other elements of Zuko’s story the Avatar writers do well.  He bears a superficial resemblance to the thousands of villains (especially in SF) who become villainous because they incur facial scarring, but of course his story is infinitely more humanized and nuanced than “skin bleached in a vat of acid, might as well go rob banks now.”  His appearance incurs very different reactions depending on his current wealth and political power, emphasizing the intersections of disability and imperialism.  He discusses the possibility of a cure with Katara, but also goes on to live a long and fulfilling life without one.

Maybe there’s no clearer evidence that Zuko counts as disabled in the sense of “society treats your body as a problem that needs to be solved” than the way that adaptations of AtLA treat the scar.  They tend to minimize, hide, or otherwise avoid it.

[Image description: Sepia-toned image of the Gaang from a Legend of Korra promotional that appeared on the Nickelodeon website.  Zuko has his head turned and his hair swept forward in such a way that none of the left side of his face is visible.]

[Image description: Screenshot of Zuko from the 2010 adaptation The Last Airbender.  Dev Patel has a very subtle amount of makeup meant to convey minimal scarring around his left eye.]

Like I said: facial difference counts as a disability because society treats it like one.  In the social model, that’s what counts rather than, for instance, how much peripheral vision Zuko does or doesn’t have.

I’m not linking to any of many works of fan art that depict Zuko tilted to the right, occasionally even when other characters are presented facing directly ahead.  Nor am I going to link to any of the equally-plentiful works of fan fiction that keep most other elements of canon the same but specify that Zuko’s face is unscarred.  (A similar number, it’s worth noting, also make Toph sighted.)  This isn’t a callout.  It’s an explanation of how Avatar does an effective job of showing how Zuko’s facial difference informs his identity without making that difference the sum total of his identity.

[danversxluthor]

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back  (Pt 2 of Seizing Life)

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

As Loraine embraces her new freedom, her headaches get worse and new symptoms come to light. Lo wants her life to be normal but she can’t hide the obvious from her moms.

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

Loraine enjoyed her new found freedom over the next few weeks. She was able to take the bus to school again and walk around the city on her own. She even got to spend her afternoons alone at home before her moms got home from work. It was a small thing, but it was the little pieces of freedom in her day to day life that she missed the most. 

Today Loraine was homework free, a rare occasion given she went to a school hell bent on keeping students busy in preparation for high profile careers in demanding fields. Even though Loraine was exhausted, she decided to take the opportunity to make a stop at L-Corp to see what her mom was up to in the lab. She loved visiting L-Corp and seeing and playing around with the prototypes.  

“Hi Mom!” Loraine greeted as she walked into the lab. Lena was focused and looking through a microscope. “Whatcha working on?” Loraine sat on one of the lab stools opposite Lena. The teen’s body had been feeling a bit achy lately, possibly a side effect of going out and being more active thanks to her new found freedom.  

“A new biologic…” Lena was still focused on the microscope. “Its part of the cancer research I was telling you about.” Lena finally looked up. 

“As much as it is always a wonderful surprise to see you Lo, shouldn’t you be at home finishing your homework?” Lena raised a warning eyebrow. She couldn’t really be made at Loraine for visiting, but she felt it was her parental duty to instill some boundaries. Lena also didn’t want Loraine staying up too late, she had noticed Loraine seemed tired a lot more lately. 

“Finished it during lunch.” Loraine beamed with triumph. “Plus I haven't visited in awhile and figured it was time to see what you're doing to my future empire.” Loraine often joked with Lena about taking over the company. 

“Your empire, huh? Nice try, but you’ll have to earn it first Loraine.” 

“I know, I know…. Just making a prediction”  

“Come here I want to show you something R&D just sent.” Loraine followed Lena over to another lab table where a small cellphone sized device was displayed along with a slew of other engineering tools. “It's a therma projection radar. It can scan a person and project health risks for vital signs.” Loraine picked up a calibration tool and was fiddling around with it as Lena explained the science. Aparatenly the prototype was under performing and Lena was going to make some updates to it herself before considering any further manufacturing options. 

Clang clang. The tool that had been in Loraine’s hand crashed to the floor. Lena immediately stopped and looked at Loraine. 

“Lo, you have to be more careful.” Loraine quickly picked up the tool and set it back down on the table gently. 

“Sorry” Loraine apologized to Lena, hoping the tool wasn't anything custom made.

“It's ok,” Lena looked at Loraine trying to see if there were any signs of a potential seizure. Loraine noticed Lena’s concerned gaze.

“Mom, I’m fine. Just a little clumsy.” Loraine reassured and sat back down on the lab stool trying to conceal a yawn.

“And tired.” Lena added. 

“Ok, clumsy and tired.” Loraine conceded and looked down. She hated when her mom got overly concerned about her. Even though she knew it was her mom’s job to be worried about her, Loraine couldn’t help feeling like a burden.

“Are you sleeping ok at night?” Lena asked as she started packing away her research. 

“Yeah, I get plenty of sleep. It’s just been a long week that’s all.” Loraine tried to brush it off.

“Just let us know if you aren’t feeling well sweetie.” 

“I’m fine.” Loraine rolled her eyes and gave a heavy sigh.

“Ok.” Lena raised her hands in surrender not wanting to push the teen too much.

The pair headed off home in Lena’s private car shortly after. Even though Lena had more work, she wanted to give Loraine the chance to relax and maybe take a nap before dinner. Lena even got an email from Loraine’s science teacher expressing concern over the fact that Loraine fell asleep during his class. 

The ride was relatively quiet. Lena went through emails on her phone and Loraine just stared out the window trying to stay awake. The teen had had a dully headache for the past several days and it was starting to turn into a pounding headache. When they were finally home and in the garage, Loraine moved rather slowly to exit the car, her headache making her feel off balance. Every movement felt like a lot of work given how tired and achy Loraine was. Lena was out of the car and already waiting for Loraine near the door, wondering what was taking so long. Loraine stood up from the car, but the ground felt strange and unsteady. Loraine braced herself on the car and squeezed her eyes shut, the unsteady feeling made her feel slightly nauseated. Loraine tried to take a step but stumbled forward and fell to her knees. The driver rushed over to help Loraine up as Lena did the same. 

“Lo, are you ok?” Lena asked holding Loraine’s shoulders.

Loraine nodded and gave a small embarrassed smile. “Thanks Felix. I’m fine, really.” Despite her words Loraine’s voice seemed a bit shaky. Felix made sure Lena and Loraine were safely inside before taking off. 

Loraine had minor scrapes on her knees with minimal blood and mere scratches on her hands, nothing to be concerned about. Loraine’s movement still felt awkward and slow which she blamed on being tired. 

“Let's take care of those scrapes.” Lena walked toward the bathroom and looked back to see if Loraine was coming too. She noticed that Loraine was moving slowly and with greater care, as if she were afraid of falling once more. The truth was, Loraine still felt unsteady with each step and she just wanted to make it from point A to point B without another fall. 

Lena had Loraine sit on the small chair in front of her vanity as she kneeled and cleaned and bandaged Loraine’s knees and hands. Loraine was too tired to react to the sting of the antiseptic cream. When Lena finished up, she remained on her knees looking into her tired daughter’s eyes and asked once more. 

“Sweetheart , are you sure you’re ok?” Lena waited for Loraine to respond, but the teen just looked away. “Its ok if you’re not. I just want to know so I can help.” Lena took Loraine’s hand in her own and noticed the teen’s hand was shaking. All Lena wanted was to comfort and reassure her daughter. When Loraine finally looked back it was with tears trickling down her face. 

“I’m just really tired.” Loraine admitted quietly. She didn't have the energy to explain how the ground felts funny and besides she didn't want her mom to have even more reason to worry. Lena whipped away Loraine’s tears. She was relieved Loraine was talking to her but also worried there might be more to it than exhaustion. 

“That’s alright sweetie. Why don’t we get you in bed, hm? You can rest and I’ll come wake you for dinner. How’s that?” Loraine nodded in agreement and let her mom help her up and to her room. Loraine didn't even protest at the assistance. She was too tired and unsteady to pull herself together enough to get there anyway. Lena was surprised at just how unsteady Loraine was. 

Loraine slept for a couple hours, but was still exhausted when Lena retrieved her for dinner. 

“Mm not hungry.” Loraine mumbled into her pillow. 

“Sweetheart you have to have a little something to eat with your meds.” Lena gently pulled back the covers and ran her hand up and down Loraine’s back, which always seemed to coax Loraine out of a deep slumber. Instead of leaving, Lena helped Loraine up and stayed beside her just in case Loraine needed the support. Lena was happy to see that sleep seemed to do Loraine some good as the teen made it down the stairs without a problem.  

“Grandma Eliza still wants to know if you want cinnamon rolls or blueberry muffins for Christmas breakfast Lo.” Kara looked to Loraine, waiting for the teen’s response. Loraine had been awfully quiet throughout dinner and barely touched her food. “Loraine?” Kara tried again. 

“Just weighing my options,” Loraine joked, “it's a big decision, but I’m leaning toward the muffins.” 

“Good choice, those muffins are legendary.” Kara had tried many times to bake Eliza’s recipe but it never turned out quite right.

Clank Loraine dropped her fork causing a loud reverberating noise. 

“Sorry!” Loraine quickly picked up her utensil from the floor and went to get another from the kitchen.

“That's alright sweetie. While you’re in the kitchen could you get me a glass of water?” Kara asked.

“Sure.” Loraine retrieved the water and clean fork and dinner went by as usual. Kara noticed Loraine’s hand shaking as she set the water down in front of her. She gave Lena a concerned look, but Lena was already watching her daughter’s every move. The parents silently agreed to discuss later. 

As dinner continued Loraine seemed more and more withdrawn. She altogether stopped moving and was staring blankly at her plate. Internally Loraine was entirely consumed by the throbbing of her head, so much so that she was oblivious to the conversation around her. Lena got up from her seat and went to kneel by Loraine so she was eye level with her daughter. 

“Lo, sweetie, what's going on?” Lena asked in a quiet voice. Lena knew from her extensive research on seizures that not all types of seizures involve convulsions, some can simply look like someone staring blankly and being unresponsive. 

“Hmm…” Loraine seemed to come to, “Wh… what?” Loraine was trying her hardest to focus on her surroundings now, which was still difficult with her headache.

“Are you feeling ok, Loraine?” Lena asked, still kneeling in front of Loraine. Kara was up and prepared to help in any way possible if Loraine was about to have a seizure. 

“Sorry,” Loraine looked down to her plate then back up, “I’m just a little out of it... I think I just want to lie down.” Lena looked at Loraine unconvinced. Kara made sure Loraine got into bed ok before joining Lena back downstairs. To her surprise Loraine didn't even protest at the help, the teen was too out of it to realize what was happening. 

“How is she?” Lena asked.

“She’s exhausted, maybe even coming down with the flu or something.” Kara was lost in thought and concern. “I’ve just never seen her like this. I mean sure it was bad last year, but this is different, isn't it?” Kara looks to her wife, who is on her phone typing. 

“Alex agreed to see her tomorrow to run some tests.” Lena looked up from her phone. “You’re right, this is different or…” Lena trailed off in thought but shook her head.

“What is it?” Kara asked.

“Its… what if Loraine doesn't have a seizure disorder. What if the seizures were just one symptom of something else.” Lena had done extensive research on pediatric seizure conditions as well as other conditions that caused seizures. There were a few conditions Lena was concerned may match Loraine’s current state.

[saladejin]

Admire | 05

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Some depressing and painful talk but nothing crazy, a few fluffy and domestic-ish moments for u all, and oh ... there’s only one bed? O_o

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is so different from what it used to be, wow. I was out here changing entire paragraphs lol, but anyway sorry if there are any mistakes! Let me know your thoughts at the end :)

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The road fell away in front of you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. After a round of brusque insistence on his behalf, you'd finally given in and let Seokjin convince you into relinquishing the driver's seat after a couple of hours on the road. You made sure to grumble in protest before plonking yourself down on the passenger side, him brushing you off easily.

You’d put the memory of the thoughtless kiss to the back of your mind, hoping that he’d forgotten just as swiftly. You were here to enjoy your trip, not to overthink about what had happened in the past. Thinking back on the past 24 hours, you sighed in defeat.

Let’s hope we don’t crash. 

*hours earlier*

You both arrived at the meeting place after countless attempts of stuttering out the most confusing directions to the driver. At this point, you almost wanted to pass out and it was still relatively early. 

Managing to greet all your aunties, uncles, and cousins as a couple of lovebirds came effortlessly enough. It was nothing but a way of life for you and Seokjin these days.

“(Y/n) you’ve grown so much. Oh, I’m going to cry!”

You tried to calm one of your more eccentric aunties while your husband stood awkwardly to the side, looking around at the gathered group of people in contemplation. Dressed casually again, he hadn’t been prepared for the sheer number of everyday individuals preparing to depart. All beside a line of large black and white motorhomes which were currently fuelling up under the shade of nearby woodland.

Once the two of you finally managed to break away from the introductions and reunions, you let out a sigh of relief. You were finally alone, sinking into the refurbished leather seats of the vehicle to regain your composure. Dealing with a horde of chipper relatives can deplete one’s energy like a starved leech if it continues for too long.

“Sorry, they’re just excited.” You laughed airily, leaning forward to switch on the air conditioner. The temperature outside was already heating up from the unforgiving sun, and you were going to positively drown in sweat if you didn’t get some cold air blasting on you lickety-split.

“They’re…lively. But it’s okay, I signed up for it anyway,” the tall man replied with a smirk of his own. He seemed amused at how quickly you'd been swamped, but he also seemed to notice how happy you were at receiving all the attention.

“The first one will probably leave soon. I’ll start driving and then if you want you can switch with me later. We won’t make it to the first stop today, but it’ll most likely end up being late tomorrow morning,” you explained while readying yourself at the wheel of the vehicle. Seokjin hummed in acknowledgement and craned his long neck backwards to ensure your bags were all safe a secure.

You admired how comfortable he looked in his simple travelling clothes. How he could pull off such a simple but effective appearance that highlighted his handsome features, such as his dusky brown eyes and midnight coloured locks of hair - hair that had grown out and gotten nicely longer, you might add - was a complete and utter mystery to you.

“By the way, we don’t have to put on as much of an act here with these people,” you began on a weirdly sombre note, trying not to look over at him for a reaction. “The whole relationship thing doesn’t matter to them as much. They won’t get suspicious or question us, so don’t stress too much about going all out, alright?”

“Okay,” came his simple reply, void of much emotion.

You didn’t know why you expected anything else, but a small part of you longed to continue pretending. You wanted to be with him, wanted to feel his hands on your skin again. It was almost too much for you to handle. You couldn’t imagine anyone else ever feeling so conflicted about their own lover, not to mention having hands on your arms of all places.

Absurd. Right?

Suddenly, the motorhome in front of you began rolling forward and you pressed down slowly on the gas pedal to follow suit. Seokjin twisted his broad shoulders back around to face the front, blinking harshly as the sunlight shone through the windscreen and hit him forcefully in the face.

Your lips quirked up in an amused smirk. What a goof.

*present*

Your eyes drooped with a heavy sleepiness as Seokjin finally pulled the truck into the site where everyone would be camping. The drive had been quite lengthy, but you’d been swapping every few hours or so until you’d become too tired to go on. Being the husband-material he was, Seokjin gladly took the burden of getting you both through the rest of the way.

“Hey wake up, everyone’s getting out for some reason.”

You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and groaned, feeling slightly more energised from your nap but still groggy. You slowly made your way down the steps and outside into the humid air, nostalgic memories finally flowing into your mind as you watched the members of your family collecting around several bright vans.

“Oh, this is the food truck stop,” you rasped out in a matter-of-factly tone, causing Seokjin to eye you in confusion. It was luckily still light enough to catch his dumbfounded expression.

“There are food trucks in this parkland area, so we can go and buy some hot-dogs or something if we want. It’s always the first dinner stop,” you tried to explain mid-yawn. The sky was blending into darkness as the sun began to set below the horizon.

“You’re so sleepy.” Seokjin snorted lowly, almost chuckling when you looked up at him through glaring watery eyes from the yawn, as if it weren’t obvious enough. He looked fairly relaxed, and you gently smiled at the sight of his beautiful eyes lighting up with wonder at the view of the campsite around him.

It was enthralling, how fascinated he was with absolutely everything. Even though the red cap sitting atop his black mop of hair cast a shadow over his face, it was still easy to spot just how eager he was to just enjoy life normally for once. To be a commoner and forget about all the pressed suits he had hanging up at home, the bucket loads of cash sitting in his bank account, the disapproving parents.

Now was the time he could finally taste the sweetness of freedom.

All of a sudden, the tall man left a tap on your shoulder and leaned in close once you faced him curiously. The stuffy fog of sleep was immediately chased away from your whirring mind, and you widened your eyes in shock when one of his hands pulled you closer, indicating what he wanted you to do with a simple touch.

Is he initiating a kiss, for once?

You reacted almost instantly to his subtle body language, everything coming naturally as you stepped in closer and raised your lips to peck his plump ones sweetly. Your whole body was buzzing with eruptions of joy, heat and surprise at the impulse; hands curling into his shirt so that you could feel the warmth of his body even more…for just a little bit longer. It was so rare for him to be bold like this.

For a single second, you forgot what your relationship truly was and felt - for the first time - what it was like to pour your heart into loving another person.

An older man cackled with his friend as they shared a beer together. “My, you young ones are just so passionate, aren’t you?” You swept some hair back behind your ear and ducked your head to hide the embarrassed flush. Or maybe you were trying to hide the stupid smile sitting on your face.

“I’ll get some food for us,” Seokjin said after another few moments of observing the place. You inwardly gaped at him as he moved towards one of the colourful food trucks, wondering if he was going to actually cover you for food.

What's gotten into him? Maybe it’s just because he’s used to putting on a performance, and that it’s such a different setting on top of that.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the fluffy feelings and jogged up to where your dark-haired partner was lining up for hot dogs.

“Do you want me to give you some cash for mine?” you asked hesitantly, gaze imploring for his attention again.

“No, go find a table to sit at,” he murmured, flicking his head upwards to point out a group of empty wooden tables nearby. You were pleasantly surprised at his motive and couldn’t help the way your jaw went slightly slack, simply stunned. Eventually, you complied and headed over towards the seats.

He'd looked so refreshed and so pleased with himself. Even with the weariness brought on by the long and tiresome journey.

The whole area was illuminated by a few atmospheric park lamps, but everyone knew that it would soon grow too dark to stay outside for much longer. Plus, you’d all need a good night’s sleep if you were going to make it to your stop tomorrow. You almost groaned again at the thought of driving so early.

“Here, I forgot to ask what drink you wanted, but you usually like bubbly stuff so I got a soft drink.”

Bit different from champagne, you surmised, but it was cute that he thought like that.

Seokjin placed a can next to where your arm was resting on the tabletop. Then, he held out a delicious looking hot dog sprinkled with fried onion rings, and you couldn’t stop the way your stomach grumbled and growled at the sight.

“I’m a starved woman, thank you.’’

He sat down and glanced around at the groups of people chatting, the strange but somehow never misplaced glimmer of interest never faltering in his eyes. On the other hand, you essentially inhaled the meal in front of you despite how weird it felt to ingest such cheap and fattening food. After months of high-class dining, it was more peculiar than one would think. Even something as unfamiliar as eating such a messy meal didn’t bother either one of you after the day you'd had.

“So, you don’t go around and talk to them much?” Seokjin questioned in a light tone of voice, picking his long and slightly curved fingers clean of any crumbs. The man was picturesque in how calm and concentrated he was. You decided that you liked that look of determination on him, even if it was for something so insignificant.

“I do, but I’m not really in the mood right now.” You sighed, resting your face into your palm so that you could ease the tension in your sore neck. You cast your gaze downwards and hoped that you wouldn’t regret your next words.

“Plus, I kind of want to spend most of my time on this trip with you.”

His eyes stared into yours from across the table, unblinking as he was thrown into one of his strange thoughtful silences.

You rushed to elaborate in a panic. “I-I … well I’ve done this trip many times and I thought it’d be nice to get to know each other a little bit more. We haven’t really asked many questions during the past few months, and I already feel so peaceful travelling together that I thought it’d be cool to just spend some time away from all the parties and shit to really relax and talk, you know?”

Cool? Did I really just say it'd be cool if we talked? Fuck you (Y/n).

You took a rickety breath and clasped both your hands together to try and hide your flustered appearance. With pursed lips and a slight cringe from the ranting accompanying your nerves, you searched his gaze with your own to try your best at reading him.

“Yeah, I know. It would make everything easier if we knew more about each other, so I don’t have to make up more lies,” he eventually spoke after clearing his throat quietly.

You thought he would’ve been more uncomfortable, or rather less than willing to take you up on the suggestion, but you were surprised yet again at his almost enthusiastic response. Was he finally letting you see past the high and sturdy walls he’d built up at the beginning of your relationship? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was coming out of his shell a little as well, but then again it wasn’t as if you knew enough to make that observation in any kind of confidence.

Maybe he's always been more open like this to people he was close with, and you were only just beginning to see this side. Even if that was the case, it made you happy to think that he was starting to trust you enough to change the way he acted. You were content enough to be considered as something close to a friend, at least.

“It’s late. We should head in,” his familiar voice snapped you out of your rampant thoughts, causing your feelings of bewilderment to skyrocket.

I need to keep my shit together!

“Yeah, sorry for spacing out.” You laughed, trying to shrug off the mortification at failing to keep your wits about you. Maybe if he stopped being so oddly charming with his perfect lips and enigmatic eyes, you’d be able to focus a little better.

You made your way to the last motorhome in the line. Seokjin had parked it a little ways from the others, almost as if he’d sensed your need for privacy and solitude. You were somewhat introverted at the best of times, so after a whole day of socialising you really wanted nothing more than to retreat back to your own little space to recuperate.

Had he figured that out, or was it just a lucky guess? Maybe he was just the same…

You followed him into the portable house and weaved yourself around the table and sofa lounges, eventually coming to stop by the comfy looking queen bed at the very back. This was where things would get weird again. You’d never shared a bed before tonight, and the couches weren’t large enough to allow anyone space to sleep either.

“Ah, I guess we don’t have a choice. You don’t mind, do you?” you remarked reluctantly, knowing that you were more than happy to have company in your bed, but he might not feel the same.

“Well what else can I do?” He shrugged with indifference. “I would’ve taken the couch if I could’ve already.”

“Right, sorry I didn’t tell you before we left.”

You sighed, more embarrassment clouding your vision as you hurriedly searched the inside of your suitcase for a flimsy shirt. It was way too hot during the summertime to wear a full set of pyjamas, so you hoped Seokjin wouldn’t feel even more uncomfortable by your choice of clothing.

Better than being naked.

You shuddered with heat at the thought but pushed it all away quickly. This was already bad enough as it was.

“It’s fine, I honestly don’t mind if you don’t,” he grunted while beginning to unbutton his shirt. You swallowed thickly at the sight of his broad chest and collarbone slowly getting revealed the lower he went. That, paired with the way his hair had become messy and rugged after driving and running his hands through it, was a dangerous combination you were enjoying way too much.

“Well, I don’t. Never did." You smiled nervously before moving to the bathroom to get changed.

You knew that sharing a bed with him after so many months was never going to be an easy feat. It was awkward at best, with you trying your best to ignore the thoughts of him being so close - thanks to your fear of doing something unpredictable - and him having no trouble forgetting you were there altogether. It was nothing for him. Somehow, he could just sleep the night away and not think about the presence of other people constantly.

The sound of soft breathing, the occasional movement of a foot or arm, the slight rise of the duvet with every deep inhale, or even the dreamy mumbling slipping past lips every now and again. You envied the peaceful way he drifted off, knowing that living with siblings most likely allowed him to factor these things right out.

For you, they were things that kept your eyes wide open, mind running a million miles a minute.

~

The next morning brought you to the first town on the itinerary. The sleepless night faded away as you parked the large vehicle next to the others, legs already bouncing with excitement at the thought of finally visiting some of your old childhood pastimes.

You all spent the day traipsing through the streets while some of the older family members greeted the shopkeepers and residents heartily. You could feel your heart bursting at the sight of Seokjin looking around the place with wide eyes, obvious amazement lighting up his face as he regarded the interactions of those around him. There was a growing fondness there you never thought you’d see.

One parkland picnic later, and the two of you found yourselves mingling with the crowd. You surprisingly found it easy to talk about your married life together. Even though he was quiet and unsure of how to act, everyone loved Seokjin and found great amusement in teasing and joking around with him. Many times you had to bite your tongue to hold back a snort of laughter. The old uncles and aunties never did hold back their rowdy banter.

“I remember when I was first married, son,” your eldest cousin said and clapped a hand firmly onto Seokjin’s shoulder, “It’s always magical at first, but soon you’ll want to chew your own ear off!”

You all laughed at his sardonic humour. Everyone, even the hopeless romantics, knew that marriage was never supposed to be perfect.

“It can’t be magical the whole time?” Seokjin asked thoughtfully, the tone of his voice light-hearted but the nature of the question way too innocent for your boisterous family to bypass.

Okay, maybe not everyone knew.

You almost choked on your sandwich when the people around you burst into loud laughter, feeling sorry for your husband. He just didn’t know the group of people he was dealing with yet.

The older men clinked their beers together. “Look at this guy, he wants a life-long honeymoon phase!”

“Nah, I think he’s looking for an early grave instead.”

You furrowed your brows and yelled through a smile, “Hey! What do you take me for, a monster?”

They exchanged wide-eyed looks and chuckled again before waving you off and tousling your hair affectionately.

“Be careful or I’ll tell Aunty what you said.” You giggled, trying to fix your messy tresses.

The loud and harmless jesting continued amongst the rest of the group while you turned to see how Seokjin was going with his food. A smile curved your lips again when you spotted the slight crinkle appearing at the corners of his eyes. He was amused, and the way the beaming sunlight streamed down through the tree branches to light up his grinning face was breathtakingly perfect.

His eyes shifted to meet yours suddenly, and you were glad it didn’t cause his expression to change. His gaze, irrevocably beautiful, was so warm and lively. If you could, you would want to see him this happy for the rest of his life.

“Son,” he mouthed quietly after shifting his gaze away from your awestruck scrutiny, “I’m still waiting for my own father to call me that.”

A ruthless stab to your chest. Not only from his words, but rather the lack of emotion he expressed while speaking them.

You didn’t know the kind of relationships he’d had, or how he’d lived his life so far, but trying to find out was like trying to connect with a brick wall. This simple statement about his father had you swallowing back sympathy, and it was upsetting to think that you’d never even once thought to ask him about it.

You wanted – no, you needed him to open up to you.

Quickly sifting through one of the cute picnic baskets led you to find a bundle of sweet packaged snacks. You would do anything to wipe that distantly forlorn look off his face, and universal law stated that candy was sure-fire way to lift anyone’s spirits. You personally loved them, but it was tough to determine if his tastes would match.

“Want a jelly?”

“Wait, you mean-” he started, but cut himself off when you finally fished out a specific packet and let out a small ‘ah!’ of triumph. His eyes shone with recognition, and you became confused at his unexpected reaction.

“I haven’t had these since I was young. They were my favourite, but my mother wanted us to stop eating too many sugary things…” Seokjin revealed, his lips pulling up into a smirk as he recalled his childhood memories.

“Well, you’re on your own now, and I’m not going to stop you. So here.” You chuckled and waited until he’d grabbed a handful of jellies before popping one into your own mouth.

Seokjin shook his head with a huff. He obviously found it stupid how he’d followed the strict rules of his parents for so long, not allowing himself to rebel in the slightest. It had never been an option before, but now here he was – living in a motorhome, eating hot dogs and jellies, basically hitchhiking through old weary towns rather than having his head down working for a big-time business firm.

You watched his eyes trail over you again, almost picking up his phantom of a voice saying, “So this is the life I could have lived.”

It brought a smile to your face as you thought about the way his gaze had lit up and drank everything in with such fervour. His cold and masquerade-like world was changing, he was seeing life from a different perspective, and knowing that you’d played a part in that brought you immense joy.

It was a warm glow of happiness you’d never felt or known before.

Night fell once more. Everyone filtered away to their beds, eyes drooping and bellies full of the various baked goods of the town. It had been an amazing day, and you knew you couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity to help Seokjin emerge from his shell.

He seemed to be enjoying the trip for the exact same reasons you always had. Except now, you had another.

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[mcgrillzdumpinc]

Safety Between Us

Summary: Nie Huaisang is awoken one night by a distraught Jiang Cheng. In the days that follow, Nie Huaisang comes to protect Jiang Cheng and, incidentally, finds his love requited.Written for SangCheng Month day 5 - family!

ao3 link

Pairing: Sangcheng

Rating: T

Warnings: Homophobia, parental abuse

Word count: 1756

“Please tell me you’re awake.”

Nie Huaisang groans into the phone receiver. He checks the time on the bedside clock. 2:18 in the morning.  He hears Jiang Cheng release a shuddering breath from the other side of the call.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m awake,” Nie Huaisang mumbles.  “Where are you?  What’s going on?”

“At the bus stop near—nearest my house.”  The wobble in Jiang Cheng’s voice makes Nie Huaisang sit up.  “Can you, I don’t know—can you pick me up?  I-I didn’t take my car keys.  I just stuffed a bunch of things in my backpack, I don’t even know if I grabbed my toothbrush, I—”

“I’m on my way, Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang promises as he hurries out of bed and slips on a winter coat.  “Don’t hang up and stay where you are, I’ll be there soon.”

~~~

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng whispers as Nie Huaisang leads him into the house.  “I woke you up for nothing, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not nothing,” Nie Huaisang promises while he slips off his shoes.  “You needed help.  I’m glad you woke me.”  He idly plays with the hair at Jiang Cheng’s neck as he watches his friend remove his own shoes.  The bright red glitter on white faux leather betray that they belong to Wei Wuxian.  “Want to tell me what happened?”

Jiang Cheng bites his lip and shakes his head. There’s a pink mark against his cheek and bruising on his knuckles.  True to his word, Jiang Cheng is only carrying his stuffed purple backpack.  He isn’t at all dressed for the winter weather outside.  Nie Huaisang can easily guess what happened tonight.

“That’s fine,” Nie Huaisang promises.  His hand moves from Jiang Cheng’s neck to the middle of his back, pushing him into the foyer and then up the stairs.  “I won’t pry.  You can stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng mumbles.  Notably, he doesn’t argue when Nie Huaisang leads him into his bedroom.  Even more notably, he doesn’t relax until he’s curled up under Nie Huaisang’s sheets, encased in his friend’s scent.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t say anything.  He swallows down his own fluster, his own bursting feelings for Jiang Cheng, and settles into bed next to his long-time friend.

~~~

“Is Jiang Cheng with you?”

Nie Huaisang squints at the alarm clock.  11:31 in the morning.  Then he turns his head to check on his bed partner.  “Yeah,” Nie Huaisang answers, “he’s sleeping next to me.”

“You better not have taken advantage!” Wei Wuxian threatens from the other end of the call.

Nie Huaisang sighs.  “Who the fuck do you think I am, Wuxian?  I wouldn’t do that to anyone, let alone your brother.”

“Right.  Sorry.” Wei Wuxian doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Keep him at your place for a few days, okay?  A-jie and I will figure things out.”

“Good luck,” Nie Huaisang replies, meaning it. “Hey, before you go, answer me a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Which parent hit him?”

Wei Wuxian goes tellingly quiet.  Then, in a strained whisper, “Uncle.”

Nie Huaisang hums into the receiver.  “Don’t forget you have the Nies on your side.  We’ll be here when you need us.”

“…Thank you, Huaisang,” Wei Wuxian replies in a tight, broken voice.

“Stay strong, Wuxian.  I’ll keep your brother safe.”

~~~

Jiang Cheng sleeps most of the first day.  When he finally comes downstairs, the sun has already begun to make way for night.  He eats breakfast/dinner and only responds to Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue in short, conversation-ending sentences.  Neither brother bothers him about it.  When his food is done, he returns to Nie Huaisang’s bed, curled up but unable to sleep.  Nie Huaisang watches My Neighbor Totoro with him that night.

Jiang Cheng spends most of the second morning in Nie Mingjue’s training room.  He screams as he pummels training dummies and sandbags and very nearly breaks a wooden sword after using it like a bat.  When he finally tires himself out, Nie Huaisang treats his injured knuckles and cleans sweat from his face.  Jiang Cheng cries quietly into Nie Huaisang’s shoulder before dragging himself to take his first bath in three days.

That second night, Jiang Cheng finds himself under a blanket and sandwich between the Nie brothers as they watch Ponyo. He falls asleep with his head in Nie Huaisang’s lap and his legs sprawled over Nie Mingjue’s.

On the third day, Jiang Cheng finally tells the story.  A little over a week ago, Jiang Cheng defended Jiang Yanli’s decision to pursue a same-sex relationship in spite of their mother’s judgment.  Jiang Cheng’s argument was that their parents had approved of Wei Wuxian’s relationship with Lan Wangji.  Plus, with modern technology, Jiang Yanli could still carry on biological children if she eventually married Wen Qing.  Between the arguments of both her children, Yu Ziyuan eventually agreed to Jiang Yanli’s relationship.

They thought the issue was over with.  But then Jiang Fengmian said, “You two are not Wei Wuxian.”

The implication was clear.  Wei Wuxian, despite being legally adopted and cared for by the Jiangs, was, somehow, not beholden to the same rules as Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng.  That two decades of living as a Jiang son and brother did not grant him the same status as his adopted siblings.  That his freedom to love who he wanted was no different than an ostracization from his only family.

Moreover, Jiang Fengmian was aware of Jiang Cheng’s sexuality, even though the man in question had yet to come out to parents. What was worse, Jiang Fengmian would not accept Jiang Cheng’s orientation, because he was ‘not Wei Wuxian’. Angered, frustrated, but frozen, Jiang Cheng dropped the subject.  But the slight boiled under his skin, festering as Yu Ziyuan argued on her children’s behalf.

It all came to a head when Jiang Cheng snapped and demanded his father’s approval.  Only reprimands left Jiang Fengmian’s lips.  Jiang Cheng got up in his father’s face, demanding recognition for Wei Wuxian, approval for Jiang Yanli, apologies for Yu Ziyuan.  Jiang Fengmian slapped his son.

Broken, confused, exhausted—Jiang Cheng left his fist on Jiang Fengmian’s jaw and on the wall.  He left that night, ignoring his siblings’ desperate pleas for him to stay. He couldn’t remain in that home. Not anymore.

When Jiang Cheng finishes his story, Nie Huaisang holds him close while Nie Mingjue storms off to the training room.

“I won’t let him near you again,” Nie Huaisang promises.  Jiang Cheng is too tired to argue.

~~~

They manage to enjoy a relatively normal fourth day. They agree to go shopping to make up for whatever Jiang Cheng didn’t grab.  Jiang Cheng borrows clothes from Nie Mingjue and a coat from Nie Huaisang. Even in oversized clothes and an unflattering peacoat, he looks better than he has in years.

They travel to a shopping center one city over. At one point, Nie Huaisang spots one of his favorite stores and grabs Jiang Cheng’s hand to drag him in.  Nie Huaisang tries not to freak out when he realizes, nearly an hour later, that Jiang Cheng has not let go.

~~~

On the fifth night, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng are making s’mores over the stove.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng suddenly says, “You have to pick one.  Wonder Woman or Deadpool?”

“So between my dominatrix mommy or my friend with benefits?” Nie Huaisang snarks.

Around a bite of s’more, Jiang Cheng says, “Absolutely.”

“Probably Wonder Woman, then,” Nie Huaisang answers as he grabs a handful of marshmallows and pops two in his mouth.  “Gal Godot looks like she would give the best kisses after sex.  I wouldn’t trust Ryan Reynolds to take me to dinner afterwards.”

Jiang Cheng snorts.  “Okay.  How about Ponyo versus Totoro?”

“For?”

“In general.  Who would you pick?”

Nie Huaisang laughs and makes a s’more.  “Totoro, duh.  Best cuddler.”

“I can cuddle better than him,” Jiang Cheng grumbles.

Nie Huaisang does his best not to think about cuddling Jiang Cheng.  It’s been hard enough sharing a bed with his friend the past four nights.  If he was given cuddling privileges, he might just skip right to kissing Jiang Cheng breathless.  “I’m sure you can,” Nie Huaisang says instead of begging for Jiang Cheng’s affection.  “You’ve got good arm muscles.”

Jiang Cheng goes quiet.  Stares at Nie Huaisang with an unreadable face.  Soon Jiang Cheng suddenly affixes his arm to Nie Huaisang’s waist and pulls him close, Nie shoulder colliding with Jiang chest.

“G-good?” Jiang Cheng asks, a noticeable squeak to his voice.

Nie Huaisang looks up at him.  He slips his arm around Jiang Cheng’s waist as well and tries, probably fails, to smile confidently up at him.  “It’s good.  Really good.”

Jiang Cheng stammers some more, unable to form any words, before he gives up and squeezes his eyes shut.  He doesn’t move an inch.  Eventually, Nie Huaisang realizes it’s an invitation.  He gladly accepts.

Kissing Jiang Cheng nearly makes his heart burst. But he powers on, pushing Jiang Cheng against the counter, stealing one, two, more kisses from the most perfect boy to ever exist.  Jiang Cheng pushes on, as well, meeting every kiss with clumsy but determined lips.  Soon the nervousness turns into unbridled joy, lighting up every pore in Nie Huaisang’s skin as he acts on so many bottled-up desires all at once.

When they finally break apart, Nie Huaisang bursts into laughter.  He hugs Jiang Cheng, rubbing his head against Jiang Cheng’s chest.  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that!”

He hears Jiang Cheng swallow.  “Me too.  For a really, really long time, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang meets his eyes, drinks in the cherry red on Jiang Cheng’s cheeks.  “Well, now we’ll have plenty of time for this, huh?”

Jiang Cheng chuckles lightly and kisses him again. “I guess so.”

~~~

Wei Wuxian calls again a week later.  Things back home still aren’t looking good. Jiang Fengmian wants to know where Jiang Cheng went, but nobody will tell him.  At this rate, Jiang Yanli might move out, as well.  Wei Wuxian himself already has arrangements to stay with Lan Wangji.

Curled up against the sleeping form of his boyfriend, Nie Huaisang promises Wei Wuxian that he and his sister will always have a place with the Nies.  When the call ends, Nie Huaisang rolls over and watches Jiang Cheng’s face.  He is peaceful like this.  Happy.  Nie Huaisang will not soon let that end.

“I love you,” he whispers, a promise of safety etched into every word.

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day Two: A Gentle Heart For a Noble Soul [Orion x Sabina]

I’m slow with writing all of my entries for @ockissweek but eventually, I’ll get to them all, even if takes me weeks. XD 

In Day 2, this story features Sabina Peg’asi, one of my Andromeda Six traveler and Orion, @julikidmxns's Dead Space OC. There’s a little bit of crossover going on but I believe I made it work. Hopefully, I portrayed your boy right, @julikidmxns! :)

Summary: He signed up to be a princess’s bodyguard to take a break from all the horrors he’d seen in space. Compared to his previous line of work, guarding royalty was small potatoes. And yet, Sabina Peg’asi was definitely not the type of royal he was expecting but now, he’d protect her to the ends of the galaxy and back. Day 2 of OC Kiss Week 2021. Prompt: Courtship. [Orion x Sabina]

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“When I love

I become liquid light.”

― Nizar Qabbani

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He never expected his next bodyguard gig would wind him up a royal palace, almost a galaxy away from his own home, but at least the job was straightforwardly easy enough and the pay was absurdly lucrative. As long as he kept his new charge safe, he would be set for life.

His new charge was a princess, a far jump from all the wealthy business people who hired him for clout and to look intimidating to all their enemies and allies. This princess was dressed in a long, slender beige and silver gown decorated with such elaborate geometric designs and needlework that Orion wondered how long it took the dressmaker to produce such an intricate (and expensive) article of clothing--if the young royal’s wardrobe was indeed handmade. Next to her, he felt severely undressed. 

Resisting the urge to check his clothing for any pressed lines or wrinkles, he opted for staring ahead like a typical stoic guard and repeated the name of his charge in his head while he wanted for the princess’s mother to arrive. She was the one who contacted him about her request--albeit technically, one of her secretaries called him on the Stellar Queen’s behalf. This would be the first time he spoke to the queen, assuming she would make an appearance. 

Princess Sabina Peg’asi, youngest child of King Fenris and Ta’jean, the Stellar Queen. Hopefully, you won’t be too much trouble. 

Bright pink eyes stared up at him with uncertainty and Orion shifted a little in place, keeping his back ramrod straight and his expression completely neutral. Standing in such an opulent room with a young royal scrutinizing him in only a quiet, curious manner was an alarmingly drastic change to his previous stints as a mercenary, especially with some of the weird, inconceivable shit he’d seen in his line of worth and some of that included the dead coming back to life as beings even more monstrous and voidless. At least there wouldn’t be any Necromorphs lurking in the hundreds of crystal chandeliers or underneath the vivid, elaborately woven and designed rugs that probably cost more than a year’s worth of his salary. He quickly glanced down to make sure his boots were polished and clean along with no traces of scuff marks or muddy footprints on the plush carpet. 

As he rose his head to face his new charge, the young princess quickly curtsied, her long navy blue braids dipping down with her while the perfectly round twin buns on either side of her head never wobbled or wavered during the slight movements. Her buttery yellow skin glowed briefly, a testament to her half-Tiljanni heritage. Her behavior confirmed Orion’s suspicion that there indeed was someone important behind him because no princess would curtsy to a bodyguard in greeting. 

“Hello, Mother,” the half-Tiljanni princess greeted, only resuming her full stance after her mother boredly bid her to rise with a wave of her hand. His charge stared hopefully at her mother, a small smile gracing her slightly round and youthful features. “I’m so overjoyed to see you today!”

The Stellar Queen barely paid Princess Sabina a glance as she settled her cold, crossed gaze on Orion and crossed her arms. Several of her own guards, as well as a close confidant, and secretary, were right behind her. Silence permeated the area and just when Orion was about to introduce him and list off some of the credentials, the Tiljanni queen nodded stiffly at him and snapped her head back at her secretary, a human who appeared at least twenty years older than him.

“He’ll do. Set him up in a room near Sabina’s quarters so he can reach and protect her at a moment’s notice.”

Both of Orion’s eyebrows rose up but he uttered nothing. That was the fastest job interview he ever had his entire life. Either Queen Ta’jean read his list of qualifications and experiences or someone else did and told her about them because her mind was already made up. Besides, he had a feeling how peeved she would be if he decided to tell the Stellar Queen he had a change of heart and would not be accepting the royal family’s offer to guard one of their precious children. 

Ta’jean’s secretary nodded, bowing his head. “It will be done, Your Majesty. I’ve already discussed the terms of payment to the mercenary and he is more than satisfied with the salary we assigned to the position.”

“You daughter will be in safe hands,” Orion spoke up, disliking how they were talking around him as if he wasn’t standing right there. “There is nothing I can’t handle.”

The queen shot him a bored look before adjusting the long sleeves of her dress. “I hope you’re right. Someone needs to keep Sabina on a tighter leash since she has a penchant for wandering off and letting her curiosity get the better of her.”

The said princess glided to her mother with such poise and grace Orion nearly mistook her a fairy. “That was one time, Mother, and I was horribly lost! Plus, I hadn’t seen you in weeks and I wanted to visit you.” She bit her lip at the last admission, her hands gripping the skirt of her finely wrought gown and twisting the fabric as she stared at her mother tearfully. “Last time you cancelled our private dinner. Do you think we can have some time together tomorrow?”

The Stellar Queen unleashed a heavy, burdensome sigh as she gifted her daughter an exasperated expression. “You know how busy I am lately, Sabina. Tomorrow most certainly will not work but…” She sighed again, as if she was a long suffering martyr. “But we can try at the end of this week.”

A wide, elated beam immediately stretched itself across Sabina’s soft features and her pale yellow skin seemed to illuminate from her recent joy. “Thank you so much, Mother! I can hardly wait! We have so much to catch up on!” She embraced her unwilling mother tightly, the hope in her pink eyes painfully evident. Orion’s gut twisted as he observed this uneven display of affection, of a young daughter so desperate for her mother’s attention and time that she was merrily settling for scraps of it. In the back of his mind, he wondered who he really should be protecting Sabina from: foes against the Crown or Sabina’s own family.   

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Orion, her new bodyguard, was definitely easier to get along with than she first anticipated. 

Besides her oldest sister Nerissa, the Crown Princess of Goldis, her only other friends were Maristela, her half-sister who was a year older than her, and Vex, a palace guard assigned to the protection of both her and Maristela but now was focused more Maristela’s safety now Orion was hired to be her personal bodyguard. It was weird having someone new follow her around, making sure she wasn’t alone with strangers, palace staff members, or even relatives (a Peg’asi could never be too careful Sabina once heard). She was so used to just having Vex be at her and Maristela’s side for so long that she forgot Vex was still essentially a palace guard instead of being her first true companion that wasn’t a blood relative. 

But Orion was surprisingly easy to get along with, once she got him to open up. She could still recall his confused face when she gave him a tour of the palace, asking him he was faring in his new role, and later, inviting him to a card game with her, Maristela, and Vex. Even after her assurances he didn’t have to come if he had no desire to so, he still showed up and awkwardly sat next to her, somehow winning half of their games thanks to his mastery of emotions. Sabina observed at him through every game, vainly trying to search for a hidden tell or a crack in his distinguished, staid visage. Even his striking grey eyes revealed nothing but there was a warmth in his eyes when he congratulated on her first win. Later, Maristela teased her on how much she had been staring at her new bodyguard, her grin widening at Sabina’s flushed cheeks and vehement protests. And when she tried to explain her reasoning, Maristela simply smirked some more and bantered that she didn’t expect her to be interested in men with streaks of silver in their hair. In an uncharacteristic bout of frustration, Sabina hurtled one of her pillows at her older sister but Maristela merely dodged and kept laughing, even as another pillow hit her arm.  

Despite her sister’s teasing, Sabina didn’t distance herself from Orion. Even though having a bodyguard reduced her already dwindling amount of privacy, Orion was her friend now and found ways to give her some semblance of freedom. She was always grateful for his kindness. 

With a bounce in her step, she rapt on Orion’s door, hugging the books close to her chest as she swayed back and forth in anticipation for his arrival. She truly hoped he was free and in the mood to go outside. She relished spending time with him, even if he didn’t reveal a lot of details about himself. 

The door cracked open and Orion’s head appeared, followed by two muscular arms as he opened the door wider once he saw Sabina was alone. Sabina’s rosy eyes roamed how some of his dark hair was parted to the side in soft waves, his full, finely groomed groom and mustache sprinkled with strands of white and grey. For a second, all words failed her and Sabina drew blank on what to say.

He peered at her curiously. “Your Highness? Is everything all right?” The hint of concern in his tone yanked her back from her trance and Sabina smiled reassuringly at him. Next time, she’ll compose herself better around him and not randomly get lost into gazing at his handsome face and kind eyes---

Focus, Sabina! 

Fixing her stare at his forehead instead of his eyes, Sabina managed to finally form some words without being hopefully distracted. “Everything is just fine, Orion! And remember, you can call me Sabina when we’re out of the public eye.”

He ran a hand through his hair--it looked a little bit damp, Sabina noticed. Did he shower recently? “I’ll try to remember that, Your--Sabina. Did you need something?”

Remembering the real reason why she initially knocked on his door, the half-Tiljanni princess stood briefly on her toes as she bounced a little, unable to contain her good cheer. “Since the weather is proving to be quite pleasant and promising, I wanted to stroll along the gardens and find a nice place to read my books.” She glanced down, a sudden shyness creeping into her while her cheeks heated up. “And, well, I was wondering if I could give you a tour around the gardens. You mentioned you never witness gardens so enormous and well groomed before so I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to rectify that. The flowers have bloomed perfectly!”

His mouth twitched into a small smile, the warmth in his eyes remaining. “If that is what you wish, Your High--I mean, Sabina, then let me gear up and I will escort you to the palace gardens.” 

Still bouncing on her feet, Sabina beamed brightly at her minor victory. “Wonderful! I’ll be waiting in my room when you’re done. And no need to rush on my account, Orion. I have my books to keep my company until you’re ready to resume your post.” 

He bowed his head at her respectfully. “Of course, Sabina.” 

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Reading in the gardens with no one but Orion standing by worked in her favor much more than she expected it too. Besides the entrance of the royal gardens, her and Orion hadn’t run into anyone from the palace, particular her siblings. The unexpected privacy pleased her, for she didn’t have to worry about anyone popping out of nowhere and rebuke her for the way she was oh so casually leaning up against Orion as she read her beginner’s medical text and snuck glances at her bodyguard to see how he was faring. He was still hard to read, something Sabina wished she could do better. Her mother wouldn’t often criticize her for how open she was with her emotions, always wearing her heart on her sleeves and trying to make friends when she should be distancing herself from everyone and analyze what they want from her. 

Unbidden tears swam near the brim of her eyelids and furiously, she rubbed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the words on the page before her and banish the last conversation she had with her mother over dinner. One that ended far too soon for her liking. 

“The sooner you harden that fragile, weak heart of yours, Sabina, the better. Or else this world will chew you up and spit you back up and you won’t be able to recover from it. And I won’t be around to tell you ‘I told you so’.” 

Inhaling deeply, Sabina fiercely flipped the text page, trying to ignore how blurry the text was starting to look as her treacherous eyes became watery once more. Her mother was wrong, she wasn’t weak! ...Was she?

“Next time we talk, Sabina, I hope to see evidence that you took my advice to heart.”

Her concentration evaporated, Sabina dejectedly closed the book and aimlessly stared at a rose bush across from her, drawn to all the various colors in each flower while blinking back the unshed tears. Today was a perfectly good day for her and Orion and she would not ruin the peaceful mood by crying! 

Beside her, Orion shifted. Out of the corner of her eye, Sabina saw his body was pointed squarely at her. Keeping her head down, she tried dabbing her eyes and ended up sniffing a little in the process. She didn’t need to look up to see his alarmed reaction, his concern for her was practically rolling in waves. 

“Sabina...what’s wrong? I thought you’d be excited to be outside, in the gardens.”

“It’s not that,” she choked out, thoroughly humiliated when a hiccup or two escaped her in the middle of her explanation. “Everything here is perfect. The weather is beautiful, you’re here, and I have some semblance of privacy, but…” Another hiccup came and several treacherous tears trickled down her cheeks. 

In a flash, he in front of her, one knee on the ground and his kind grey eyes fixated directly at her, searching for any signs that caused her distress. “But what?” he gently prodded. 

Shame flooded her yet Sabina couldn’t deny him. In such a short timespan, Orion became one of the very few people who understood her and when they were alone, treated her like a normal person, without a hint of judgement. If anyone could give the truth straight to her, it would be him.

“Am I weak, Orion?” she whispered hoarsely, leveling her vivid pink eyes with his grey ones reluctantly. “Am I just an useless paper doll that can't do anything right?” She reached out, searching for Orion’s hands, to hold onto something real and stable, and he complied, wrapping his gloved hands around her dainty yellow ones. 

“Whoever told you that is wrong, Sabina,” he replied, not even bothering to inquire where this disparaging musing of hers came from. He most likely heard snippets of her mother’s scathing words during their private dinners when he was outside, guarding the door until Sabina was ready to return to her chambers. “You are not weak. You have more strength than you realize.” 

She squeezed his hands a little for solace. “But how? I don’t have the vast knowledge or skill set like many Tiljaani have to help people nor do I know any useful things to contribute to my family or to Goldis in general! There is so much I can’t do or understand, even with an advanced royal education!”

“Your compassion is not a weakness.” The sharp edge in his tone startled Sabina but she listened, feeling herself drawn to Orion and whatever he may say next. “Don’t let anyone else convince you otherwise. There is a shortage of people with a gentle heart like yours, who just want to help and make everyone’s lives a little better. With little or no success, I’ve beheld how you try to reach out to your siblings, the ones who you hardly have interacted with, for a chance to be a real family. And even when you don’t get the result you hoped for, you try again. You’re far too determined to give up so easily.”

Her lips cracked into a tiny smile and she sniffed, trying to clear her nose while a few more tears leaked out even as she blanked them back. Her hands were still collapsed inside Orion’s and she had no desire to retract them back. She liked the way he was holding her--or her hands, in this case. 

“You really think so?” she asked carefully, inwardly wincing at the temor in her voice. She slid down from her stone bench to kneel down in front of Orion, craving to be closer to him and whatever else he had to say. Maybe she was just searching for validation but his words were beginning to bring her some comfort. 

He nodded his head firmly. “I do. After all, you’re one of the very few people here who went out of their way to welcome me and always wanted to know how I was doing or if I needed anything. Do you think I’ve forgotten the time when I reminisced what my favorite dish was to you and magically, the very next day, the kitchens were serving that meal to me for supper?”

“Your face seemed so wistful, so nostalgic that I just had to find a way to give a little piece of your home back to you. All I did was inform the cook of what was in the dish and she did the rest. She did all the work, not me.”

Orion’s visage was now barely an inch away from her, his sincerity blazing freely in his gaze while the corners of his eyes softened ever so slightly. “Yes, but you’re the one who listened to me and took the initiative to make me feel a little bit more welcomed and at home in this new world. No one gave you orders, you just executed that on your own.” A ghost of a smile danced on his mouth, so close to her own lips that for a fleeting second, Sabina was breathless. “That’s just one of the many reasons that make you so beautiful.”

No sooner did that admission left him, did Orion realize his slip and jerked his head back, eyes wide in alarm. Inwardly, Sabina bemoaned the loss of their proximity and with what little physical strength she possessed, she tugged him back to her before he remembered to release her hands. She was so used to his touch and how warm and safe his own hands were.

Peering up at him through her eyelashes (a trick she was glad Maristela taught her), Sabina leaned her body closer to him, saying, “You really mean all that? Even the beautiful part?”

Orion coughed awkwardly, his gaze now on their joined hands, which appeared much more romantic given to how long they were simply kneeling together, holding hands. Finally, the tension melted out of his broad shoulders as he slumped forward, as if conceding. “Yes...yes, I do. I mean every word of it.” 

Her skin glowed like the sun at his confession yet Sabina hardly cared enough to notice. Instead, she leaned in nigh enough for their noses to first bump into each other before she angled her head to its side to plant a chaste but lingering kiss to his cheek. Traces of his beard tickled her skin, a sensation she enjoyed far more than anticipated. The princess thought his beard would be scratchy but its thick smoothness pleasantly surprised her. 

Orion’s breathing hitched but he didn’t yank himself away from her. “Princess, Sabina, are you sure…?”

She kissed him again, this time on the lips. “I’ve never been sure of something my entire life.” Embolden, Sabina planted a third kiss on his forehead and was rewarded with an encouraging, soft smile from Orion. “Consider this a very special thank you from a very grateful and smitten princess.” 

And when Orion’s hands cupped her supple, round face to dry away any remaining tears from her cheeks, he wasted no time to kiss her slowly, steadily, and full of tenderness, causing her poor heart to burst with elation while she encircled her arms around him, feeling the muscles on his back clenching momentarily beneath her fingertips. That last kiss rendered them both breathless, unable to remove themselves from each other’s arms. Sabina was content to sit there, listening to her bodyguard’s heartbeat while he absentmindedly stroked her back.

“You don’t mind that, I, er---?”

“Kissed me?” Sabina grinned as she cocked her head up to face, unable to conceal her glee. “Not at all! I hope you didn’t mind either.” 

His chest rumbled with a chuckle and he tucked one of her long, thin braids behind her ear. “You don’t have to worry about me, Sabina. Unexpected as those kisses were, I enjoyed them as well.”

A coy grin spread itself across her refined features. “Then does that mean we should resume said kissing or if not, at least plan on getting back to it in the near future?”

Orion cocked one bemused brow at her, entertained by her sudden boldness. “I may not know much of Goldis customs but are you attempting to woo me, Princess Sabina?”

Her cheeks darkened by a deep blush, more evident by the vibrant illuminance from her skin. “Yes...? Do you not like that?” Her voice came out rather tentative and nervous. 

Shaking his head, he let himself smile for her again prior to kissing in the center of her forehead, reassuring her that his feelings hadn’t changed or were a fabric of her imagination. “I just wonder what I did to deserve such a kind soul like you.” 

“Just give me a day and I’ll have an entire book filled out on why you’re a noble, wonderful man with a caring heart, sweet eyes, and very nice beard.”

He gave his pepper speckled beard a quick stroke. “Just nice?”

Sabina pouted, crossing her arms. “Don’t tease me, Orion! I really do like your beard!”  

After a few more minutes of banter and blissful enfoldments, she was due to return to the palace and get ready for one of her musical lessons. Smoothing out the creases in the chiffon fabric of her pale pink gown, complete with tiny golden stars decorating the attire from top to bottom, Sabina glanced up in time to watch Orion snap off a brilliantly crimson rose from the nearby rosebush and present the striking flower to her. He scratched the back of his head, an awkward tic of his that Sabina found to be rather endearing.

“I’m not really good at romance or know the correct steps to sweeping you off your feet, but if I’m going to secretly court you, I’m going to do this right,” he explained, looking a little self-conscious as he held out the red rose to her. “And I remember you remarking earlier in our tour of the gardens that roses are one of your favorite flowers so---”

He never got to finish his sentence. Sabina had already tossed her arms around his neck and covered him with at least a half-dozen of airy kisses, all followed by the words: “Thank you thank you, Orion!” 

The next day, Sabina snuck a fresh tulip containing the same color of her rose into one of Orion’s spare holsters. After all, she shouldn’t be the only one to receive gifts in this covert courtship.  

[cdelphiki]

There Are Worse Ways to Spend Christmas

Honestly, holiday travel was the worst, in Tim’s opinion. The absolute worst thing on the face of the planet, and an all around terrible way to spend time right around Christmas.

Between crowded airports, snobby entitled irate passengers, and frequent weather cancellations, traveling during December was probably the worst thing ever.

And yes, that was very much exaggerating, because Tim’s mind immediately supplied several things that had happened that year that beat flying near Christmas in the ‘terrible’ category, but he just wasn’t in a good mood, so he was going to be dramatic about it.

Bruce wanted the lot of them to meet up at the cabin in Colorado to have a nice, quiet Christmas with just the family. Which, on paper, sounded nice. Christmas with all the kids plus Alfred and Bruce, far away from Gotham and the social engagements they’d be expected to attend otherwise sounded incredibly relaxing.

But that was before Tim processed that he’d have to fly with Damian, commercial, to Colorado to meet up with everyone else.

Why?

Because his family hated him, obviously.

The private plane was currently in Japan, where Bruce and Alfred were finishing up a series of meetings at the Tokyo office, and since it would be bringing them to Colorado that day, it was unavailable to bring Damian and Tim, the only two left in Gotham so close to Christmas, to Colorado. Stupid school lasting until the Friday right before Christmas Eve, which was on a Monday that year, meant they couldn’t have just left early to allow the jet to bring them all.

No.

Tim Drake and Damian Wayne had to fly commercial. On Christmas Eve eve.

First class, of course, but on small little regional jets, first class was a paltry comparison to the comfort to which they were accustomed. And the whole “unaccompanied minor” thing was really grating at Tim’s nerves. Because Damian wasn’t unaccompanied. Tim was right there. He was 16, and according to the airline’s policy, that made Damian accompanied. But that didn’t stop the stupid flight attendants from being extra attentive.

At least they were being left relatively alone during their layover in Chicago.

Which was how Tim found himself curled up into one of the kind-of comfortable waiting chairs near their gate, playing a game on his iPad, completely ignoring his little brother. It was the most peace he’d had all day. He could still see Damian over his knees. Kind of. Saw his spiky hair in the next seat over, at least, so he wasn’t being entirely neglectful.

But Damian wasn’t bothering him. Wasn’t trying to pick a fight or release his frustrations on Tim, so Tim was going to enjoy every single second of it.

Then, of course, the gate agent had to ruin the entire night.

“Attention passengers, Flight 1029 to Aspen has been delayed,” she announced over the speaker, and Tim couldn’t make out the rest of her announcement over the loud chorus of groans from everyone around them. Because the flight was supposed to begin boarding in about 10 minutes.

His phone buzzed with a notification from the American Airlines app, which informed him that it was delayed by three hours.

“This is ridiculous,” Damian pouted, hitting Tim’s legs with his coat as he slung it off himself to stand, “the third weather delay today. You would think airlines would be used to flying in the snow. It’s not like it doesn’t happen every year.”

“It’s one of those dumb named storms,” Tim said, scrolling through the weather report in Aspen to see if in three hours it would be any better, “it’s basically a blizzard.”

“That does not change my opinion,” Damian drawled, rolling his eyes as he stared out the window directly behind Tim.

“So because hurricanes happen every year, pilots should know how to fly through those? Get real, Damian.”

“Tt. It’s just snow.”

“Snow and wind and zero visibility,” Tim said, flipping to the Hilton app to reserve a room at the airport’s hotel. The weather report wasn’t looking good, and he had a feeling that the flight would be outright cancelled. If that happened, he wanted a room in the airport. He’d rather not deal with crowded shuttles to an off-site hotel once the airport finally cancelled all the flights to the areas being assaulted by Winter-storm Fisher.

Seriously, why the hell did they name snowstorms now?

Tim reserved the room under Bruce’s name, because it would be impossible otherwise to get a room for a 10 and 16 year old. The hotel really didn’t need to know that Bruce wasn’t even in the country and wouldn’t be staying with them.

“Damian?” one of the gate agents said, as she approached the two of them in the waiting area, “So the flight has been delayed by-”

“Yes, three hours. We are aware,” Damian snapped, “As I keep telling you people, I do not require your hovering. My father did not request the unaccompanied minor service, so I do not see why you are providing it anyway.”

“We are just ensuring that-”

“I don’t care,” Damian said, waving a hand at the woman as he turned to gaze out the window again.

Tim just shrugged at the slightly flustered woman and offered a simple, “Sorry. We’re tracking though, thanks.”

“Tt. I am never flying commercial again.”

“Bold declaration for 10,” Tim said, just before he sighed and sat up. It was nearing 6pm. They should probably go grab dinner while they had the time, on the off chance that the flight actually did happen.

“I am a Wayne, if I want to fly exclusively by private jet, there is literally nothing stopping me.”

“Except Bruce hogging it,” Tim said, shoving his iPad and headphones into his carry-on. For the first time, he was so glad Alfred had convinced them to pack into carry-ons instead of with checked luggage. He enjoyed the freedom and ease of traveling with just a simple messenger bag to carry around, but knowing that they had their clothes and toothbrushes with them was a relief. They wouldn’t be buying ridiculous Chicago themed clothing tonight in one of the overpriced gift shops.

“What are you doing?” Damian asked, eyeing Tim as he slipped his boots back on and tied them.

Instead of answering, Tim asked, “Chili’s or the Macaroni Grill?” as he stood to his feet, attaching his coat to the top of his luggage.

Damian straightened up a bit, to Tim’s amusement, at the prospect of food and shuffled to gather up his items as well. “The Macaroni Grill,” he finally said, making a face at the suggestion of Chili’s.

Dinner went a lot smoother than Tim was expecting. In fact, the entire day until that point had gone smoother than he expected. Even with leaving for the airport at 5am and spending nearly every moment since together, the two of them really hadn’t fought much. Every once in a while Damian would make a scathing remark, but would then be quiet for at least half an hour after he did so.

It was nice.

“Why’re you being so good,” Tim asked over their pasta. They still had a little over two hours until boarding. Perhaps he shouldn’t be looking this gift horse in the mouth, but he was genuinely curious.

“I know how to behave in public, Drake,” Damian drawled, pushing around the last bits of his dinner on his plate before taking a sip of his soda.

Aside from the fact that Damian did not know how to behave in public, that really didn’t answer anything.

“Besides,” Damian continued, “our every move is being watched here, and Father told me if we get arrested by security for any reason he’s holding me personally responsible.”

“He did not,” Tim said, grinning wide.

Damian scowled at Tim and snapped, “That was not a challenge, Drake. I will inform Father if you sabotage our travel for the express purpose of getting me grounded.”

Tim just laughed and said, “Unlike you, I’m not a demon, I wouldn’t do that,” just as his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he saw Bruce’s face staring at him. “Speak of the devil,” Tim muttered as he slid to accept the call, “Hey Bruce.”

“I see your flight has been delayed again. How are you two holding up?”

“Let me talk to him,” Damian said, reaching out for the phone.

Tim swatted Damian’s hand away and said, “We’re fine. Annoyed, but we went ahead and got dinner. I know we were supposed to eat together there, but you know.”

“We had to land in Seattle and won’t attempt again until morning, anyway. Dick and Jason got in just before it started to snow, and Steph and Cass are still in the air, but I don’t think the flight will make it to Aspen. So most of us won’t get there until tomorrow, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m expecting American Airlines to just cancel to try again tomorrow,” Tim said, taking one last bite of his food, “so I booked us a hotel tonight just in case.”

“Let me know if you have trouble checking in. The storm is moving across the country toward you, I would not be surprised if O’Hare cancels flights tomorrow as the storm passes over you there.”

“Great,” Tim said dramatically, leaning back in his chair. Damian was just glaring at him expectantly, “Damian wants to talk to you.”

“Okay. Stay safe and just be patient. Delays and cancellations are better than plane crashes.”

“Yeah, thanks for that thought,” Tim said just as he handed the phone off to Damian.

“Father, I refuse to fly commercial ever again, this method of travel is-” Damian started, then paused and listened with a pinched face, “Yes, but- No. No.”

Tim tried his best not to look too amused as Damian went from smug and entitled to adequately chagrined as he listened silently to Bruce for a full minute. Bruce must have lectured him pretty hard.

“Fine. But I will not fly commercial at Christmas. This holiday is ridiculous and the number of people in this airport is unacceptable. Yes, Father. I will. Goodbye.”

“Sounds like you will be flying commercial again,” Tim said in amusement as he took his phone back and pulled a $100 out of his wallet to give to the waitress to cover their meal and her tip.

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian mumbled as he dragged his suitcase behind him in the most pout-filled way Tim had ever seen.

And that’s how the rest of the evening went. Silently as Damian pouted. As their departure time came and went without so much as a boarding call, Damian began getting antsy.

“This is the fourth time they’ve delayed us by 15 minutes,” he exclaimed after yet another announcement over the PA system, “this is unacceptable.”

“You know they’re going to cancel the flight, right?” Tim said, turning the page in a book he’d picked up in the airport bookstore, “We’ll probably sit here another 30 minutes while they continue deluding themselves about not cancelling a flight on Christmas Eve eve.”

Damian let out an angry growl, which just sounded like a child throwing a tantrum, and flung himself down on the chair next to Tim. “I hate this.”

“Take a nap,” Tim said as he pulled his coat out from the chair under him to let Damian use it as a pillow, “I’ll wake you when they decide what they’re doing.”

“I will not take a nap,” Damian pouted, “I’m not tired, just frustrated.”

“You’ve been awake since 4am, you’re tired.”

“So have you.”

“Yeah,” Tim said patiently, “but I took a nap after lunch, so.”

“I will not take a nap,” Damian repeated, aggressively grabbing Tim’s coat to lay against.

“That’s fine,” Tim hummed, trying not to smile as he continued reading.

“And Christmas Eve eve is not a thing,” Damian mumbled, burrowing himself down into Tim’s coat with his own wrapped around him, “stop being ridiculous.”

“Of course it’s a thing,” Tim said, lifting his feet up onto his suitcase so he could get settled back a little more comfortably, “It’s what today is.”

“Hmph.”

It took another 45 minutes, but finally the flight was outright cancelled. By that point, everyone was too exhausted to put up too much of a fuss, and the groans heard around the gate were more out of obligation than actual anger. Tim had heard several people all around him make arrangements for the night already, so this was clearly no surprise to anyone.

Tim took his time using the hotel’s app to “check in” before he began gathering up his things. He put his boots on and shoved his book and tablet back in his bag before he finally nudged Damian.

“Okay, Demon, nap’s over.”

“I was not napping,” Damian mumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up.

Tim grinned and liberated his coat out from under Damian. “No you’re right you were just resting your eyes.”

“Shut up, Drake.”

Checking in was remarkably easy. When Tim told the person at the desk that ‘his dad had checked in on the app,’ he was easily handed a couple keys to the room without a single question.

Tim took his time in the shower as Damian lay on one of the two beds in their room, watching the news report. When Tim finally emerged from the bathroom, Damian said, “Much of Colorado is without power right now, and the storm is expected to hit the midwest just as hard.”

“Well isn’t that just dandy,” Tim said as he dried off his hair, “you packed a toothbrush and stuff, right?”

“Yes, Drake, I am not incompetent.”

“Right, whatever. Take a shower if you’re going to, I’m going to sleep. The flight is scheduled for 8 so we need to get out of here absolutely no later than 7, preferably earlier. We’ll have to pass through security again.”

“I hate everything you just said.”

Sighing, Tim set his phone to wake him at 5:45 while he listened to Damian slam the bathroom door.

Being responsible for little children was just so fun.

Next thing Tim knew, his alarm was going off. He sat up to find Damian already awake and watching the Weather Channel on mute. It took blinking for a minute before he could make out the numerous notifications on his phone, but the one he had wanted to find the least was another delay notification.

Now the flight wasn’t going to attempt until 10.

“The storm hit early,” Damian said, glaring at the television as if it were responsible for everything going wrong in their travel.

“Well do you want to sleep in longer or get breakfast?” Tim asked, rubbing at his face. He’d enjoy sleeping more, but he had slept for a good 6 hours. It was certainly more than he was used to.

“Breakfast,” Damian said simply, “I was waiting for you to wake up so we could order room service.”

“We could go get something. There’s time now.”

“Look outside. I’d rather stay here where it’s warm and dry.”

“Right,” Tim said, picking up the room service menu. After he called in their order, he looked at the weather report for the day and went ahead and extended their stay one night. If this storm cancelled all flights leaving Chicago, it would be much more difficult to get a room. Bruce honestly wouldn’t care about spending the money unnecessarily if their flight really did take off at 10.

But of course, it didn’t. At just past 8, they received the notice that the flight was cancelled.

Bruce called again, within minutes of Tim getting the text, to check up on them and assure them that the family wouldn’t do Christmas until Tim and Damian made it to Aspen.

“I’ll come pick you up myself,” Bruce said over speaker, “The weather should be fine tomorrow, I’ll head to the airport and get you boys, okay?”

“Tt,” Damian pouted from where he lay on his bed, arms crossed and glaring at the ceiling, “If you ever suggest I travel alone with Drake again, I will return to Mother.”

“Ouch,” Tim said, “he’d rather live in a ninja death cult than travel with me.”

“Damian,” Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry, but we’ll extend our vacation out until after the New Year, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

“He’s pretending to ignore you,” Tim said, grinning at the scathing look Damian shot his way for the comment, “he’ll get over it.”

“The pilot wants me to turn my phone off, so I’ll text you when we land. How about we all FaceTime tonight, okay?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be good. Dick wanted us to watch The Polar Express tonight, we can always just do it while facetiming. I’m sure I can find a copy somewhere around here.

“Okay, Merry Christmas, boys. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve and I’m stuck in a snowstorm with you,” Damian said once Bruce had hung up, still glaring up at the ceiling.

Shrugging, Tim said, “There’s worse company.”

“Doubtful.”

“Don’t worry. Santa will still deliver your presents to the cabin tonight.”

That finally made Damian sit up, but only to throw a pillow at Tim. “Santa’s not real, Drake.”

“Now you’re ruining my Christmas,” Tim said, laughing, as he caught the pillow, “You’re probably on the naughty list, anyway.”

“Tt.”

“You’re not exactly good,” Tim continued, having fun now at Damian’s expense.

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian snapped, throwing another pillow at Tim.

“Or nice.”

“Shut up!”

“Actually, yeah,” Tim said, laying back on the bed, “there’s no way you’re not on the naughty list, now that I think about it.”

At that, Damian got up from his bed and stormed over to the bathroom, slamming the door as he went. Tim jumped at the loudness of it, then frowned.

He hadn’t meant to push the brat that far. He’d just been teasing. Having fun. Sometimes, Tim forgot for as much as Damian could dish it out, he couldn’t take teasing. At all.

It was easy to forget. Especially when they went a few days without fighting.

‘Help,’ Tim texted Dick, ‘made D mad. Probably crying in bathroom. What do?’

The response was almost instant. ‘You made Damian cry?! Tim, why??’

Tim sighed and responded with, ’I mean, maybe? I haven’t tried to listen in on him or anything. He might just be pouting.’

‘Did you try talking to him?’

‘Why would I do that?’ Tim asked, smiling at himself because he already knew what Dick’s response to that would be.

‘You want to fix it but you don’t want to talk to him.’ And Tim could just see the flat stare Dick would have while delivering that sentence. Hear the deadpan in his voice.

Tim snorted. ‘Precisely. Glad you understand.’

‘Tim.’

‘Yeah, fine. Good big brother, coming up.’

After another minute, Tim finally got up and trudged over to the bathroom door. When he knocked, he could tell something was pressed up against the door, and was willing to bet his entire salary that it was pint sized and 10-years-old.

“Hey D? I was just teasing, you know.”

“Go away, Drake,” Damian hissed from the other side of the door.

So he wasn’t crying, at least. That’s good.

“Uh yep, nope. Can’t,” Tim said, sitting down on the floor outside the door, “The room isn’t big enough.”

Tim could just barely hear Damian’s signature ’tt’ in response.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you,” Tim offered, unsure of where to start. Or how to even do this. He’d been the little brother being talked down, never the older brother doing the talking down.

“Weren’t you?” Damian drawled.

“No, I wasn’t,” Tim said, resting his head back against the door, “I was just teasing you, that’s what brothers do to each other. They tease. You should know, you tease me constantly.”

“I do not tease you.”

Tim rolled his eyes and said, “No, of course not. You just make fun of me in hopes of getting a rise out of me. That’s totally not the definition of tease.”

“Then you admit you were trying to upset me.”

“Fine. I’m sorry, Damian,” Tim said tiredly, and perhaps a little too flippantly in his tone, “I shouldn’t have said that stuff, okay? You’re probably on Santa’s nice list. He’ll bring you presents tonight.”

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian snapped, banging something against the door. His elbow, perhaps. “I do not care about that ridiculous tradition.”

“If you aren’t upset about me saying you’re on the naughty list, then why are you upset?”

“I have been very good the past couple days,” Damian nearly shouted, “and the past year. I have worked so hard to behave myself and be what you and everyone in Father’s family would consider good. But at every turn, everyone, especially you, completely ignores all my actions and efforts and writes me off as a ‘bad person.’ I am sick of it.”

Tim blinked and ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t… writing you off,” he said lamely, “I was just teasing you about Santa. I know you’ve been good.”

“Then why would you say I’m not?” Damian demanded.

“It was just a joke,” Tim said, a bit more forcefully this time, “it’s just what you do at Christmas with kids. You tease them about Santa and being on the naughty list. Did the league not do Santa?”

Damian huffed out an annoyed breath and said, “The league didn’t do Christmas. So no, we didn’t ‘do Santa.’”

“You… didn’t do Christmas?” Tim said, in almost a whisper. He really wasn’t sure if Damian could even hear him. “So wait,” he added, much louder, “is this your first Christmas then?”

“Yes,” Damian bit out before slamming his head back against the door. At least, Tim as pretty sure that’s what Damian hit the door with.

“Does Bruce know this?”

After a long moment, Damian sighed and said, in a much calmer tone, “Maybe. I do not know what Father knows.”

“You should have told him,” Tim said softly, like he was talking to a victim as Robin, “He would have cancelled his meetings in Japan, I bet.”

“I don’t see how it would have mattered. It was my first Christmas here, regardless of everything, and he still left me with you.”

“Well,” Tim said, “In his defense, we were supposed to see him yesterday, so this isn’t entirely his fault.”

“I guess,” Damian said, softer than Tim had ever heard the child’s voice be.

The two of them sat there for another few minutes while Tim just frowned at the closet door in front of him. The annoying closet door that was actually a full sized mirror. So basically, Tim was staring back at himself, looking right at the terrible person he was. That he’d been over the past couple days.

Thinking back over their travel time, Damian really had been good. He’d been trying really hard to keep it that way, even when Tim teased and poked at him, or just flat out ignored him. And all because he didn’t want Bruce angry with him over his behavior. Which, usually wasn’t an issue for Damian. He never seemed to care when Bruce threatened him with grounding.

And Tim had barely acknowledged the effort.

Was Damian just trying to stay on Bruce’s good side because it was Christmas? Because he wanted a happy Christmas, just like how the holiday was always depicted in media?

Damian was only 10, after all, and all he had to go on was television.

Tim felt the bathroom door open behind him and leaned forward a bit to prevent from falling back. Damian stood in the doorway and glared at Tim using the mirror before saying, half-heartedly, “Move, Drake.”

“So if you’ve never celebrated Christmas before,” Tim said slowly as he got to his feet, “that means you’ve never done a Christmas movie marathon.”

“Thankfully,” the little brat drawled as he pushed past Tim into the bedroom.

“What Christmas movies have you already seen?” Tim asked, completely ignoring Damian’s likely feigned disinterest.

Flopping down dramatically onto his bed, Damian said, “What part of ‘first Christmas’ don’t you understand?”

“So you’ve never seen any Christmas movies?” Tim asked in exaggerated horror.

Damian just shrugged.

“Frosty the Snowman?” Tim asked, and when Damian shook his head, he said, “Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer? How the Grinch Stole Christmas?”

“No, Tim,” Damian exasperated, “none of them.”

“Oh my god,” Tim said, “Okay. That’s what we’re doing today. Starting with The Year Without a Santa.”

“Whatever.”

After a quick trip to one of the shops in the airport to purchase candy canes and a ridiculous amount of candy and cookies, because no Christmas movie marathon would be complete without a coma-inducing amount of sugar, Tim started up a playlist of all his favorite Christmas movies on his laptop.

Four movies into the marathon, Damian said from where he lay beside Tim on the bed, “These are ridiculous, you know?”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Tim said, opening another bag of Oreos for them to devour. Alfred would have a heart-attack if he knew they skipped lunch and were going to skip dinner in favor of cookies. Store bought cookies.

“I suppose,” Damian said as he took a couple cookies from the bag between them, “there are worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.”

Tim didn’t even have to look to know Damian was smiling as the opening scene to Elf began to play.

Yes. There were much worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.

-

Cross posted from AO3. 

[hrh-selene-r]

Luck be a Lady  (1/4)

Devil in a White Dress

The Logan boys have it in their heads a plan to rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway, but in order to do that they need someone with experience in breaking into a high tech vault. In their need, the Logan brothers visit non other than Joe Bang to recruit him into their heist. Problem is, they have to convince him; and knowin’ them Logan boys’ family curse, he ain’t gonna take no chances doing’ this without another professional. They need someone who can get into places and blend in, someone with experience who knows how to improvise and to tie up lose ends....Someone like you.

A short fic that started as a one shot and ended up being a short multi chapter fic, where our sweet boi Clyde, falls for a woman that’s more that what she seems. The question is, can he handle it?

Clyde x Reader

6.8k Words

Warnings: mentions of theft | Reader uses an alias

White

The room is an off-color white, not quite bright, as to somehow make it sterile, and cold. It’s the color of day-old snow on the pavement. Hell, even the chairs are a weird gray color, makin’ the room seem monochromatic. It’s all white, unsettling and uncomfortable.

He’s all too familiar with these walls and how isolating being here feels. Say what ya want, but six months under was enough to scare Clyde straight, and there ain’t no way he wants to come back here. But if he’s gonna do this, he’s gonna do it right. And doin’ it right meant getting someone who knows how to blow up a Bank Vault. Which, ironically, brings him here. The one place he doesn’t want to be in; with his brother, visiting none other than the famous Joe Bang.

Watching him eat a couple of hard-boiled eggs, and listenin’ to him talk about special salt for his blood pressure before finally getting to the part where his big brother Jimmy explains the plan to bust him outta jail in broad daylight, to blow up a bank vault, and get him back in jail before anyone notices.

At first, Joe can’t believe these two. How exactly are they gonna pull this off anyway? He chuckles at Jimmy Logan’s proposition, thinkin’ the idiots must have a screw loose. 

“You Logans, must be as simpleminded as people say.” Joe said all condescendent like.

“They say that?!” the brothers ask in unison; surprised and offended as they quickly look at one another before  turning back to a sniggering Joe Bang.

“Who?” Jimmy asks, not being able to let go of the slight tease.

In Joe’s mind, them Logan's plan was crazy, but it could work out. If the take’s good and the job seems doable, he might just be able to replace his stolen little nest egg, and then some. Amused, he decided it’s time to talk shop. “So what’s the take?”

“It’s bigger’n you can bury under an oak tree.” Jimmy assures him.

“And the split?” Joe asks back.

“Even Split.” Jimmy answers only to be rebutted immediately by Joe “No. No way.”

Why? Now Clyde’s Curious, he’s been lettin’ his brother do most o’ the talkin’, on account of it bein’ his crazy cauliflower plan, and all. “ Why not?” Clyde asks, confused; wantin’  to know why Joe didn’t think it was a fair deal.

Joe looks at him for a moment. “ I got a brother. I got two. I’d need ‘em involved to protect my interest.

“Fine.” Jimmy sighs, conceding to his demands, figurin’ that a smaller slice is better than no pie at all.

“Alright, What’s the location?” Joe asked them. Now he’s willing to play ball. They just gotta iron out how to actually make the plan work.

“Charlotte Motor Speedway.” Jimmy answered. Three words, no further explanation needed.

A pregnant pause fell on the conspiring men as Joe pursed his lips, giving out a deep sigh through his nose, and leaning back in his seat. 

Thinking his pause meant hesitation, Clyde started to get anxious. They needed Joe Bang, if they’d have any shred of a chance at pullin’ this dang thing off. He leaned forward in his chair and asked Joe “ Don’t think you can do it?” Challenging him and hopin’ he just might take his bait.

“Now I didn’t say that, did I?” Joe answered him defensively, his tone a warning to Clyde not to underestimate him but also treating him with respect; despite just practically offending him by doubting his skills. He has a reputation to maintain, after all.

“Then what’s the problem, Joe Bang?” Jimmy asks, growing impatient, not getting what Joe’s huffing about now.

Joe breathes out a huff, not believing these two idiots and the fact that he has to explain everything. 

“Before I take any job, I look at it the same way as it takes to make a bang: positive versus negative. Now you mix a little bit o’ this with a little bit a’ that and you get a reaction. A reaction is Power, but it’s moving fast and it’s moving away from ya and it keeps moving until it hits somethin’.” 

“Like a vault wall.” Clyde interrupts.

“Sure, like a vault wall. So, you wanna make sure you always get more positive than negative, or else ya gotta get outta the way fast….Pullin’ off a job like this; I gotta weigh in the positive versus the negative….You Logans can just think of it as a plus or minus..” Joe explains to the brothers, leaning back into his chair.

“We get positive and negative.” Jimmy answers him, irritated with joe; feelin’ like he runnin’ them around in circles with the whole dang explanation. 

“Okay, so it’s all cash, that’s a positive. But a place like the track?....It’s gonna have twenty times the amount o’ security of a regular bank, so that’s a negative, but there’ll be a whole mess o’ people walkin’ around there, and that’s a positive; it helps us blend in. There’ll be metal detectors and cameras, you know, recording every dang inch of the place. That’s a negative; we can’t bring anything through them gates. No explosives, no guns.” Joe thinks out loud listing off the various pros and cons of the job, mentally making a list to see what are the chances of them being able to pull off this job.

 “No, we don’t. We don’t want usin’ any guns.” Jimmy tells Joe, a bit flabbergasted, that he’s even considering such a thing. Never in his life has he held a gun to threaten anybody. Hell, he don’t even know if he’s capable of shootin’ at somebody. No, no guns. They just complicate everything.

“Absolutely no guns.” Clyde agrees resolutely, shaking his head while looking at Joe seriously in the eyes. It’s not that he’s not familiar or inexperienced. The mas is an iraqui war vet, for cryin’ out loud. He did two goddamn tours over there; of course he knows how to use a gun and how to kill someone. But there’s a time and place for everything, and he won’t kill someone unnecessarily if he can avoid it. He’s a vet now, and that time in his life is over, he’s a bartender, and a small business owner now. He knows what it’s like to kill and he ain’t gonna put that burden on Jimmy. No way, no how. So absolutely no guns.

At the brothers’ refusal Joe leans back in his chair and huffs a sigh from his nostrils. They just don’t make it easy, do they?  “Well, I guess for you Logans that’s a positive.”

“So you’ll do it?” Jimmy asks him hopefully; getting to the point of the conversation and the reason for their visit, wanting to get this over with; the more time spent here the more suspicious they look.

Joe on the other hand doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy still thinking about the job in his head. He has to make sure this’ll work out well, ‘cuz he ain’t doin’ nuthin’ to risk increasin’ his sentence, not when he is so close to freedom. So...he may have to outsource, bring out the big guns, so to speak.  “The problem, gentlemen, is security. We’d need to find a way to get in.” He explained slowly, his voice deep in his chest and rumbly as he concentrated in thought.

“Access.” Clyde elaborates, glancin’ at Jimmy for a quick bit.

“Exactly!” Joe points his finger at Clyde, eyes wide as someone finally gets it. 

Jimmy stares back and forth at both men. What was he painted onto the walls? “ I can get  access, I HAVE access.” Jimmy argues, not to be considered useless.

“You were just fired.” Clyde reminds him, turning to look at him. “ ‘sides don’t ya’ think it’d look suspicious if ya’ll went around snoopin’ for ways to access the tunnels or if you’re caught by the cameras creepin’ around?” Clyde asked Jimmy as if it was the most obvious thing, further proving Joe’s point. 

Joe leans back in his chair and raises his arms, palms up.  “He’s right. You’re too close to it, someone in security or a worker might recognize ya. We need to avoid exposing you to the staff as much as possible, particularly the staff that works in the tunnels that can recognize your face.” Joe scratches his growing stubble and begins to mumble as he thought of a solution. Well, we got no choice. We’ll probably have a better off chance of pullin’ this off with ‘er anyway. “ So…...We’re gonna need someone for the job…..”

“Who do you reckon?” Jimmy asks him.

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

Mercer County Airport wasn’t crowded, it was just not that modern, you guess, at least not compared to other places you’ve been. But what else could you say about the small County airport? Hell, if it weren’t because you owed Joseph Bang a favor, you wouldn’t have been anywhere relatively near West Virginia, let alone walking into a parking lot of an airpot there.

But, Life is a funny thing, it can take you to a lot of places you’ve never expected to be. And right now, life took you through an airport parking lot and to an old 1969 red Dodge Charger that was calling your name; conveniently parked in the lot, along with other vintage vehicles in good condition.

It’s true that it’s extremely out of the ordinary to see these types of cars together, let alone in the same lot, but you supposed that they’re probably cars on route to go to the auto show that was advertised in one of the touristy pamphlets you saw while walking out of the airport. Something about NASCAR. 

Must be your lucky day, because you can’t see a guard anywhere near here; in fact the whole lot seems to be devoid of people, and you’re not gonna look at gifted horsepower in the mouth.

You supposed with a smirk, that if you’re here for a job, might as well enjoy your time here. A bit of business with pleasure can’t go wrong. Still, Joe better thank you for the trouble that you’re going through, helping him out. The wind blew your hair over your dark cat-eye sunglasses while you try to subtly open the car door, being careful not to attract any unwanted attention. This job better be good, you inwardly complain as you open the bottom part of the dash, below the steering wheel, and start to hot wire the collectible car. You try to do it as quickly as you can, before the security guards can catch a whiff of you and send your cute little ass to jail before you can even hear Joe out.

That won’t do us any good. You wouldn’t be able to show off the cute little white dress you’re wearing, if you’re in a cell, after all.

Your giggles are drowned by the roar of the car’s ignition, as you start getting in, putting your travel bags in the passenger seat and adjusting your mirrors. Adios Mercer Airport is the last thing you think about before putting the car into gear and getting out of there.

Getting the window down, you can’t help the feeling crawling through your back and up your shoulders. It’s that feeling of freedom, of anything being possible as the wind blew threw you (H/C) hair, and the open road stretched before you as the car starts speeding.

Now, Joe wasn’t specific or detailed in his call. Actually, he was very vague. All he said was that he was calling up his favor and that he wanted me to be his brother Fish’s date for a fair that’s happening in town. Now, he wasn’t going out with Fish, that much she knew; if anything he was talking in code. The message was simple: “You owe me a favor and now I’m calling it. Come home, and look up my brothers, they’re the point of contact.” So she gave Fishy a call and set up a meeting at a bar called ‘Duct Tape’. So here she was, in West Virginia, going at 75 mph in a modified and revamped stolen Charger, with nothing but a gps set to take you to this so-called bar, and the open road.

You’ll have to be careful not to attract any unwanted attention, it can be a rural small town, but a cop, is a cop, is a cop. So you’ll have to stop by somewhere nearby to change the plates; exchange them with another car’s, and you better do it soon, you have an appointment to keep and an old friend to meet.

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

The air outside was a bit humid and calm tonight as John Denver played from the jukebox, Earl was outside havin’ his usual smoke, the ceilin’ fans are blowin’ air down from above to the drinking patrons, the clinks of glasses and crashes of the billiards table mixed in with the music. 

Clyde supposed he couldn’t complain, at least not for now, all he had to make sure was to get this heist over and done with, he thought as he cleaned up and rearranged some glasses in the bar. He was really just tryin’ to look busy, to not give away the fact that he was actually keepin’ an eye on Sam and Fish Bang while they played pool a few feet away. Now, he and his brother already talked to ‘em durin’ the county fair and got ‘em to agree to help ‘em out with the whole heist and all, so what were they doin’ here? ‘Cuz they weren’t exactly regular customers in his bar. 

It wasn’t until Jimmy walked in that Clyde finally got his answer. The brothers were waitin’ on someone. A colleague of Joe’s, he said; they’re supposed to meet up in this here bar to negotiate with Jimmy, talk shop as it were. Now, Joe was very clear that he wasn’t gonna do any plan or heist without another professional, to help out. So it’s not like they have a choice in the matter. They needed this guy on their side.

This, of course, left him a bit apprehensive. After all, he’s seen what Joe’s brothers are like. What would a friend of Joe Bang’s even be like? This famous so-called swiss army man. He was probably another convict or a thief. Clyde could picture it now; he’d most likely be a thought biker type of some sort, or a bearded tattooed man with a tear tattooed on his face, maybe someone with a penchant for violence….And they were plannin’ to meet in his bar, during his shift.

Great.

That is the last thing that Clyde needs in his bar. Plus, won’t it look suspicious if they’re seen associatin’ in an almost conspiratorial manner? The cops would find out. I’d be just his luck too if trouble comes his way because of this. He’s waitin’, afraid it’ll happen too.

The Logan Family Curse

He’s been hollerin’ in both Jimmy’s and Mellie’s ears about this, comin’ up on years now, but it’s just not goddang normal. Hell, he never takes his damn horseshoe ring off, just in case. Now, Clyde hasn’t always believed in the so-called family curse; he didn’t believe it in high school and he didn’t believe it when he did two tours in Iraq (otherwise he probably wouldn't ‘ve done them in the first place). 

But ever since the freak landmine accident that cost him his hand an’ part of his forearm, he couldn’t stop thinking that this kind of stuff just don’t happen to normal folk. So he started digging up info about his other family members, and bit by bit he started to put the pieces of this whole thing together. The proof that not only does he have the Logan curse on his head, but that it exists. Ever since then, he’s been wearin’ the same lucky horseshoe ring, thinking it’d be best to ward off any type of bad luck an’ evil out there as much as he can. 

It’s just not smart to tempt the devil, and he’ll avoid it where he can.

Clyde is taken off his internal reverie as Sam approaches him at the bar. “Another round, my good man.” He tells Clyde. He, of course, obliges and hands Sam two bottles of Coors, uncapped.

Meanwhile, Jimmy sat in his usual bar stool, drinking his beer, talkin’ to Clyde while he worked the bar; re-filling drinks and cleanin’.

“You got everythin’ planned?” Clyde asks Jimmy

“Just about. Just ironin’ out some things.” He answered confidently even though Jimmy still hasn’t finished planning squat. But he can’t let Clyde know, he’d panic, quietly, but he would still panic. 

“Welp, you better do it fast, got the auto show comin’?” Clyde reminds him earnestly.

As Clyde starts to put some glasses away on the high shelf, busying himself with never-ending work, so much so that he doesn't notice that the front door opens and in walks a woman. 

“Be right with ya.” He said after he heard one of the bar stools near Jimmy scrape on the wooden floors.

Now, you found it hilarious that the bar was called the Duck Tape...you spent all this time thinking it was weird to name a bar “Duct Tape” but here you stand at the front door;  corrected, ‘cause it could, in fact get weirder. You, of course, pay no mind to the ambience or the music hanging in the air once you enter the bar. You were here to meet with Fish and Sam; strictly business, or at least that’s what you thought while looking around the bar.

There were a few patrons, a few people sat in the u-shaped bar, while the bartender looked like he’s doing something on the shelves above it. You decide to not be a bother while he’s up on his step ladder and you just quietly walk over to the bar, sitting two seats away from another patron. He’s young looking, around his mid-thirties with short brown hair, and a goatee and the beginnings of a beard. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, but under it you can see that he was about fit, or fit enough. Or at least, that’s what you could gather since he was actually getting up, probably to go to the bathroom or something. He was good looking though, even if he had a bit of a limp, you noticed as you gave him a passing smile, doing your best to be friendly to the locals.

It’s seemed to be a quiet night all around. To the right there were some men drinking together, probably buddies; you saw Fish and Sam were already here, playing pool on a table nearby, probably waiting for you to get here. All in all, you really didn’t seem to miss anything going on. 

That is until you turned your focus to the bar, and said bartender working in front of you. How oblivious did you have to be to not notice this man? You asked yourself as you saw that the bartender there wasn’t using a step ladder at all. 

Well, Hello.

He was just this tall mountain of a man, with black shoulder length hair. His back was towards you, so you couldn’t see much, but what you could see, you enjoyed. His body was wrapped up in a cotton button-down short sleeved shirt, and those dark wash jeans that gave you a nice view of a tight ass that you can stare at all day if he lets you (you wouldn’t mind grabbing it either). 

Through his shirt you could see his shoulder blades through his back; flexing and moving as he finished placing the glasses high up, giving the rippling view and showing that he may be wide, but his waist was defined. So he was likely well built. A gym freak, health nut maybe? No, his waist would be more defined if he was, so would his muscles. His form suggests that his muscles are built to be strong, not for show. 

Maybe this mountain man chops wood. All in all you liked the view, and you always did have a thing for tall men (Everything just tended to be more proportional). So really, you wouldn’t mind spending some time in the bar, looking at him as he worked, getting a drink to relax, and enjoy the local sights before having to deal with Fish.

Uuuugh!

Why does this have to happen when you're here because of a Job? You’d rather just not deal with them at all if you could. Don’t take it the wrong way, the Bang Brothers aren’t bad people, per se. In fact you don’t mind Fish at all, and they’re good hearted boys; they mean well, but it’s obvious to any adult equipped with a brain that the smarts in the family went to Joe. The man’s a chemist after all, and Fish and Sam...well, they mean well, and Fish is okay. With a makeover he could be cute. But it’s not a mystery why he’s not a hit with the ladies. Or why Misty had an affair behind his back.

You rearrange your posture in your seat, twisting around over to the billiard’s table, just to make sure that both Sam and Fishy were still there.

“What do you like?” Clyde asks in a friendly way before finally turning around, and just like that…...It’s as if life punched him stupid in the face and left his vision all blurry like. It was as if for an instant time stopped and he was left still, dumb and frozen, just staring at you. It’s a good thing you were looking over at the billiards table because otherwise, he’d looked like a creep.

Now, to be fair, Clyde’s seen all types of folks come ‘n go around these parts, especially when you work at a bar. But Clyde could swear that he’s never seen someone quite like you. In your short white cotton dress, cinched at the wait with a thin brown belt with cute little brown cowboy boots; and your hair, loose in the most beautiful shade of (H/C) he’d ever seen. Now this isn’t enough to go by, and it’s true. It wasn’t until you turned your face to answer him that he finally managed to see you, that left Clyde truly entranced. Your beautiful (E/C) eyes, your hair framing your face beautifully had him enchanted; but the most beautiful part, in his opinion, was that bright smile that you gave him. It was one of those smiles that pulled up at your cheeks and made your nose scrunch a bit and maybe he was crazy but it lit up the whole goddamn bar. 

Clyde doesn’t know if it’s because it’s been a while since he was with a woman, but goddamn, it was like you came right out of a dream; an angel with  a white dress and everythin’. 

All in all, he was so dumbstruck in awe, that he didn’t notice that you sweetly gave him your order. It was as if for the briefest of seconds he felt like he was underwater.

Snap out of IT!!!

Clyde clears his throat blinking quickly to get him out of his stupor.  “I’m sorry?” he asked you as if he’s trying to make sure he got your order right.

“Can I have a vodka with Orange Juice, please?” you ask him again sweetly,  not minding at all that you had to repeat your order.

“Uh, yeah. Comin’ right up.” He said politely, trying to give you a good impression, but also being professional. The last thing a lady like you needed was a guy harassin’ her and bein’ inappropriate with her. It didn’t help the wait that you were looking at him, all sweet-like, like ya had a secret that he didn’t know.

And maybe you did; or maybe you were just checking him out as he showed off, making your  drink, with added flair that belonged in a more modern bar, not the duck tape. Still, you were grateful for the opportunity to watch him work.

Of course, the pleasure was all yours. Watching him closely, enjoying the show he put on for you. 

The man himself was six feet tall, maybe six foot two, but his body was well built all around from what you could see. His hair was dark, wavy and gorgeous....how is that even fair? You don’t know, but it does complement his goatee and frame his face, accenting his big nose and his full, pouty lips. It gives him this rugged, country boy look. His eyes are brown and look soulful; gentle, offsetting his almost intimidating physique.

 You notice that he’s wearing a black t-shirt under his navy-blue button down as he moves through the bar and even flips the shaker to efficiently mix the drink over ice, even though it’s not typically mixed, not knowing that he did it was to cool your drink as a special treat for the lady in white.

He tapped the glass connected to the shaker and poured the mixture in a clean high-ball glass sitting on a napkin, and delicately handed it over to you. You took the opportunity and deliberately brushed your fingers against his as you smiled at him, noting his lucky horse shoe ring sitting in his fourth finger. What a peculiar thing to wear you mused as you do a quick study in your head; nearly hitting yourself for not noticing earlier the most obvious thing about him until he was right in front of you, fixing your drink. An amputee bartender...that’s a first. You start to wonder how was it that he lost it. maybe a car crash? Some type of accident most definitely. Either way, this wasn't something that you saw everyday.

“Thank you.” You tell him kindly, just being polite.

“Ya welcome, miss.” He replies leaving the statement in the air. You look around a bit dramatically and look back at the bartender. 

He’s polite and his voice. Hmm!  

Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was the fact that he looked like rural sex on a stick, but you’re starting to want t o know more about him. And being the weirdo that you are, you start analyzing him from top to bottom; you can’t help it, you were just too curious about this sexy mystery man. Too bad I can’t tell if he’s married you think as you start to really look at him, seeing what you could find out.

Male, late twenties to early thirties, over six feet, caucasian, dark hair, well built and athletic, soft spoken, polite, but articulated. A bit shy, definitely not a social butterfly, from what I can see. Body language and tone suggests a bit of an inferiority complex and lack of confidence despite his height, meaning that he’s self conscious. Maybe he was picked on for it. His build suggests he was maybe an athlete in high school or college, perhaps military training. That could explain the lost arm, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. 

Your thought process makes you look at him sideways, supporting your head’s weight in your left hand as he cleans in front of you while you contemplate his life story. You wanted him to talk to you, you wanted him to make the first move; for him to give you a way to talk to him. But from the looks of it, you're gonna have to make the first move. Luck favors the bold, you remind yourself before taking a deep breath and look at his face.

“Is the bar always this busy?” You teased at him, a smirk on your lips as you're trying to make conversation. The brothers are still playing pool, so you have time. Why bother them and interrupt their game when you can play one of your own right here? And with far better company at that.

Clyde doesn’t miss a beat, hearing the small tease in your tone, still not really believing that you’re talkin’ to him. “Well, you’re very lucky. Bar’s not usually full until the weekend, so you can get my attention easily.”  He replies teasing you right back with a small innuendo as he met your smirk with one of his own.

“Really? Lucky me then. And what’s your name?….You know, in case I need to catch your attention. Or are you just ‘bartender’?” You fire right back. Okay, so the boy knows how to flirt a bit, this is promising, you thought as you played innocent with him, leaning back a bit and puffing out your chest and smiling, which if the lighting isn’t tricking you, causes him to blush a bit, on his cheeks, right below those cute little eyes.

“Name’s Clyde. At your service, Miss....” His answer held the promise of servicing more than a cocktail, or at least you hoped it did. 

“Vivienne. The name is Vivienne.” You introduce yourself, moving your head slightly, flipping a bit of our hair as you do so, showing more of your angelic face to Clyde, and he can’t help but give a small smile and the sound of your name. Vivienne, Vivienne Clyde repeats your name, trying it out in his head, almost as if to see if it fit with what he saw in front of him.  “Or ya’ll can call me Vivi for short, everybody does.” She smiled at him, a southern twang in your voice and the way you speak. It’s not from around these parts that’s for sure. Maybe it’s a different part or state. Heaven knows Clyde isn’t the most traveled fella, and even the parts where he’s travelled too ain’t that exotic.

Vivi takes a swig at her drink, gesturing to the ring on his right hand. “Are you superstitious? Or are you just always lucky?”

Clyde takes a look at his ring before smiling, slightly amused at the thought of Clyde Logan, of all people, being lucky at all. “A bit superstitious. Rather not tempt the devil y’know.” He answers lightheartedly, not wanting to elaborate on how was it that the Logan Curse made him believe in it. At least for right now, he just counts himself lucky to get you interested in him at all, don’t get him wrong, but Clyde isn’t an optimistic man; he can’t afford to be, not with this curse over his head. Knowing his luck, you’ll get bored of him quickly and move on to another fella. But he might as well enjoy this while it lasts.  “You?”

“A bit, but who isn’t really? I mean, it never hurts to throw a bit of salt over your shoulder, right?” You answer with a smile, your right eyebrow raising as you did so with a little playful shrug, causing his smirk to develop into a full smile, making his cheeks pull up a bit and his eyes shine at your lighthearted demeanor. You’re guessing that it’s not easy or common to break him and get a smile out of his somber, pouty expression, given how he seems to hold himself so seriously; so you considered this a little victory. Clyde just thought of it as part of your charm.

And just like that he was hooked.

When you were done with your first drink, you decided to take it up a notch. Maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe it was your own bravery, either way you end up inviting him to drink with you, appealing to his good nature. 

“It’s my first time in West Virginia, and it’s bad luck to drink alone.” you say, pouting your lips at him. 

“Well what about that first one?” he counters. 

“That one doesn’t count. And if it does, then I need to do something about it. C’mon, have a drink with me. That way you can help me negate the bad luck.” You told him. At first he didn’t think it right, him bein’ working an’ all, but how could he say no to you? How could he say no to those captivating eyes and those tempting lips?  

So Clyde agreed, saying that he can’t leave a lady like you with bad luck in all good conscience, and deftly took two shot glasses down from the shelf and filled each of them with Bourbon Whiskey.

Taking the shot, you smelled it and looked at him funny. “Bourbon?” You asked him, to which he nodded in response. “It’s the good kind, top shelf, to commemorate your first time drinkin’  in West Virginia, on the House.”

“Well then, cheers. To good luck and good health.” you say raising your glass to meet his with a small clink before downing the contents in two quick swigs; the liquid burning your throat and the back of your mouth as you shook your head blinking as you did so.

“You good?” He asked smiling, this time his smile showed you a glimpse of his teeth. You nodded vigorously as you got ready for another round.

Just two seats away, Jimmy saw the exchange and he couldn’t believe his eyes. This lady was downright flirtin’ with his little brother, not in an overtly sexual way, but in a sweet teasing way. And what’s even more shocking; Clyde is flirtin’ right back. Well, his version of flirtin’, which isn’t to say much, cause his brother tended to be of a more serious type. 

Now, he didn’t recognize you, or at least he can’t remember you from anywhere, and be that as it may, Boone County ain’t that big. People tended to know everybody in town. So, you’re either a relative of someone or you’re from out of town, maybe even a city girl by the looks o’ your hair. He ain’t ever seen someone have hair that pretty; like them models you see in magazines or movies. But still, this is a big thing, so he decides to not interrupt, and let his brother enjoy her company while he enjoys his beer.

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You spent the better part of the next two hours with him, talking, drinking and joking around. Honestly, you had even forgotten about Sam and Fish, and the whole reason why you were in the bar in the first place, preferring to spend your time like this than to deal with them.

Unfortunately your good time’s cut short as Sam Bang approaches the bar to order another beer and ends up looking in your direction when he heard you talking to Clyde. “Vivi?” He asked, turning away from the bar in your direction. Effectively ending your moment with the handsome man.

Both you and Clyde turn in Sam’s direction, you sigh loudly from your nostrils as you regard his appearance. “Hi Sam, how’s it going?” you ask him, causing Clyde’s once sunny mood to darken in shock as he looks back and forth between you and Sam; asking himself just how did you know him.

Sam turns around towards the billiards table and shouts. “Hey yo Fish! Vivi’s here!” getting his brother’s attention.

Upon hearing his brother Fish walks over to see what the commotion is about. “What?...Hey Vivi? When did you get here?” he asked and then gave you a small kiss in the cheek showing how familiar you were. You reciprocate the kiss with a polite smile before answering. “Oh just a while ago. I decided to get a drink while you boys finished your game.”

Okay, what the hell is goin’ on? Clyde thought jealously, watching with suspicious eyes as Fish’s arm wrapped around your waist as he gave you a kiss on yer cheek. He needed someone to explain this ‘cuz he couldn’t understand what was happenin’. One minute, yer talkin’ to him, flirtin’ all nice like, and now your talkin’ to Sam and Fish Bang like ya’ll good friends or somethin’. Was he in like a Twilight Zone? All he could do is pray that you weren’t related to them or that you were Fish’s girlfriend. Anything but that.

Likewise, Jimmy was also taken aback by the apparent run-in between you and the brothers, but he figures that maybe ya’ll are relatives, ‘cause there is no way in hell that one of them is in a relationship with someone like you.

Not able to take it anymore, Clyde addresses the group. “You know each other?!” he asks cautiously, his tone sounding a little louder than necessary, his eyes darting between Sam, Fish and you.

“Well, yeah.” Sam is the first to answer, lookin’ confused to ‘ve been asked that in the first place. “We’ve been waitin’ o her, on account of her bein’ our swiss army lady and all.”

“Wait, what?” Jimmy chimes in two seats away, giving away the fact that he was actually eavesdropping on their  conversation.

“What?” Clyde equally in shock makes the same question, not processing what Sam said just now.

“Yea.” Sam answered simply.

Fish hits Sam’s arm, catching his brother’s attention. “Sam c’mon, man. It’s 2017. Weeee’re what?” he said slowly, hoping that Sam will get the point that he’s trying to get across to him. Sam, being Sam, just shrugs; not getting the point that Fish is getting at, causin’ Fish to let out an exasperated breath. “We’re woke, man. It’s Swiss Army MAN.” Fish said as if it was the most obvious thing, clearly embarrassed at his brother’s faux pas.

Understanding the situation as an embarrassment, Sam’s lips formed a small o as he offered  an apology towards you. “Oh. I aporogize Vivi, on account of my political correctness.” which you just shrug off, not caring about the insignificant point enough to bother to correct him. 

What you did care about was the fact that they were plain out in the open talking about the job in front of Clyde and the bar patrons, as if it was the most casual thing.  Besides, What did they mean by Swiss army man? She was definitely out of this internal joke by the looks of it.

“Swiss army man?” You asked, trying to get it but failing miserably.

Sam just nodded and answered your question with a simple “Yeah.” as if that cleared things up for you.

Meanwhile the Logan brother’s can’t believe what’s happenin’ in front of their very eyes. 

You didn’t seem like the type that can help ‘em out. Hell, you seemed like one o’ them instagram girl with how pretty you look, not a thief or professional criminal! Jimmy just couldn’t wrap around in his mind just how you, pretty, innocent and girly-lookin’ You could help ‘em; just what did you know?

Clyde, like his brother, was equally taken aback by this whole thing. Just a short while ago,  he’d been talkin’ to her for two hours; drinkin’ and flirtin’ somethin’  nice. It seemed like she liked him, and Clyde most definitely liked her. Everything about her was beautiful and sweet. AND it turns out that she’s a criminal. Was she a thief? Was she a killer? He just can’t believe it, and just his luck too. Did she already know who he was? She was just jerkin’ his chain, flirtin’ with him to pass the time? From the looks of it, you were this sweet southern girl, without a bad thought in your mind; not a professional criminal. (Not that he had any ground on to judge you) He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

And apparently, neither could Jimmy. Getting up from his chair, he approached the three o’ them pointing a finger directly at you.

“You’re Joe Bang’s so-called ‘colleague’? The one he called?” Jimmy asked incredulously .

“Hi. I’m Vivienne, but everybody calls me Vivi.” you introduce yourself to Jimmy with a friendly smile pullin’ at your cheeks. “ And you are? How do you know Joe Bang called me?”

 “This here’s Jimmy. This thing is his whole Idea.” Fish takes the opportunity to explain to you.

Jimmy scoffs while shakin’ his head, not believing this. I guess looks’re deceiving, huh. He thinks to himself in his head as he reaches out to offer you his hand to shake it.

“Jimmy Logan. That bartender you were talkin’ to is my brother Clyde.” Jimmy introduces himself, his tone is defensive, willing to protect his little brother from ‘er. He figures that if you’re a friend o’ Joe Bang, he’d have to be careful with you.

You caught his tone and the sudden tension comin’ from both brothers, but you decided to play it off, used to people underestimating and being uncomfortable with you “Nice ta’ meet ya Jimmy”. You greeted him as you were friendly and shook his hand. You were hoping that Mr. Clyde “the Bartender” Logan would’ve been a good time, after all, your chemistry was so good; and then fate kicks you in the butt, making him find out who you were.

“Likewise.” Jimmy replied politely.

You put your right hand on your cocked hip. “So...Mr. Logan, what’s the job?”

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Hi guys!! I hoped you liked the first chapter. Fist of all let me just say that I apologise for the word count on this first chapter. I usually write about 3k words, maybe 4, but I wanted to establish the tone of the scenes and and ended up writing a lot. 

Like it says in the summary this started out as a one shot but then turned into a short fic, which incidentally lets me add more details. Like my other fics; I don’t have a set word count. I got with the flow of the prose until i feel it’s enough.

So let me know what you think, i’d love feedback.

all my love

Selen R :)

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