#put that girl in a German winter and make her cry on a morning as her beloved steed lies bleeding in the snow

[westernwoodblogs]

Tw// Animal Death

Franziska von Trauma

Originally inspired by the summary of @themefromtwinpeaks ‘s fic unlock the house of the dead on ao3. Yes, the summary bc I forgot to actually read the fic when I found it. I simply blanked out as I was consumed with zeal over Horsegirl! Franny and Manfred shooting her horse. But really great fic! Finally read it recently, do check it out if you’re not the faint of heart, love von Karma siblings and Manfred being such an interesting lil shit.

This is more in accordance to the headcanon I spawned about her being into dressage and it was what she wanted to do professionally (or as professionally as you can be at 12), but she wasn’t able to place to the standard of a von Karma in one competition. Punitive measures go into effect for the lack of perfection. I guess now she really has to be a prosecutor. It was also an origin story of sorts for why she has a riding crop in AAI. Like yes, it’s the precursor to her whip but what if?

Image description welcome

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt. 2

Omg you guys thank you so much for all the support! Part 1 was my first fic and you guys were so sweet. I had to get started on part 2 right away. If you want to be on my taglist, just let me know! This is just leading up to the next few chapters that’s just gonna be FILTHY. I needed a bit of backstory to be satisfied, but now that the boring part is out of the way, I’m gonna go research other names for genitals. Hope you enjoy! -Savvy

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT:  2.9k

“Make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.” 

When she was first taken, of course she was scared. She didn’t know why, where she was going, if she��d be rescued. It was a painful adjustment, and some days it was as if the tears would never stop. It’s not like she was worth anything to anyone who mattered, her family wasn’t rich. Just her mom and brother. They lived a happy and normal life. 

She’d guess it didn’t really matter. At the age of 10, y/n was old enough to understand basic concepts, carry a conversation with adults, and she had strict teachers in school, so she knew how to behave. 

What she didn’t know was how to be a wife. Or a ‘life-partner’. None of the Men would ever call her a future ‘wife’. She was training to be a mate. Someone the Soldat could own and connect with so he didn’t fly off the rails if things got out of control. If he got out of their control. Every morning, a watcher would wake her up at 8AM so she could stretch, eat, and meditate. By 10AM, her first trainer of the day would come in and teach her the schooling she was missing. Just basic math and reading, a little German, and a little Russian. Not enough for her to eavesdrop on their plans, but enough to understand her Soldat if he didn’t feel like speaking English. 

At 1PM, another trainer would come and bring her to the small kitchenette down the hall. They had no intention of domesticating the ‘couple’, but she was learning to be a woman- of course the Men would have her start in the kitchen. She would learn very simple meals that could feed a fully grown man, and usually had something light for lunch herself. The men brought her the other 2 meals a day. At 3PM she would have lessons on ‘Womanhood’. At least that’s what she called it. A trainer would come in and teach her a never-ending list of rules that she had to follow in order to be a ‘lady’. It reminded her of an old Barbie movie she would watch when she was little. There was a song called ‘To Be a Princess’, where a poor girl learned how to act proper. Once she started seeing herself as that princess, the days got a little easier. Some days, they would go over how to sit and lie down like a lady. Others, they would walk laps around the halls open to her, reviewing how to walk on the balls of her feet. She learned to talk in short sentences with excellent manners, and how to brush her hair, so she could look more presentable for her Soldat. 

Over the years of compliance, the trainers softened on her just as the watchers had. Of course, they were still horrible people, but they knew she was a kind girl at heart and wouldn’t cause trouble. Some days, she would be made to sit perfectly still with a stack of books on her head, while her trainer would tell her something silly happening outside the walls of the building that became her home. She learned little bits of information about their lives, music, art. But never anything political or having to do with who the Men even worked for. That was strictly forbidden. They would let her color in her free time. Sometimes a watcher would bring a book from his home for her to read, and when she was old enough, she was given a few colors of yarn and started knitting sweaters and scarves on plastic needles. She didn’t have a clock, but she would learn by the rotating shifts of her watchers what time of day it was.

There were children whose lives sucked more than hers. And for that, she was grateful.

When she got older (let’s say 18), the training started to change. She never knew what day it was, or even what year. She had stopped keeping track so long ago, but the changes were made gradually. She would be made to read books on intimacy, and then watch videos of men brutally ravishing ladies about her size. She had to learn what to do to please her Soldat, without being taught physically. This made her happy. The thought of any of the watchers or trainers doing that to her made her sick. And everyone thought it was in her best interest to be completely innocent to the touch of a man when she has her first encounter with the Soldat.

Which turned out exactly as planned. But on the day Steve and Sam plucked her out of her bedroom, she was not expecting the Soldat to be sitting right in front of her. In all his glory.

The quinjet was eerily silent for all of seven seconds before Clint had the audacity to continue the conversation he started.

“You make the soldier happy?” was the best the shocked man could come up with.

“I haven’t met him yet, but I’m ready. They made me ready for him.” y/n said with bright, hopeful eyes. Her words flowed so easily, they sounded rehearsed.

“Do we tell her?” Tony asked Steve, who was getting greener by the second. He couldn’t believe he just got his best friend back, not two weeks ago, and now he has to worry about a girl who’s obsessed with said best friend.

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. The whole quinjet looked like they were holding their breath. y/n still didn’t know the names of the three men on the opposite side of the quinjet. Two of them standing together, pausing their conversation, and the brooding man, who everyone keeps looking at.

“y/n, meet Bucky.” Steve said, pointing at the man across from her. But ‘Bucky’ went completely over her head- the name being unfamiliar to her.

“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” She said, offering a genuine smile, but clearly not picking up what Steve was putting down. Clint chimed in again, wanting to be out of his confused misery.

“Wait a second. Y/n. You mean the soldier, as in the Winter Soldier?” Y/n immediately nodded at hearing that name. She knew her Soldat went by that name. “As in that guy right there?” 

Her eyes went wide at the realization. He was sitting right in front of her. Staring at her since the minute she stepped onto the plane. And he was gorgeous. Long hair, thick thighs, piercing blue eyes, and a jaw that could probably cut glass. But he looked upset. Pissed really, and that scared her. She had one job: Make the Soldat happy. And there she was, barely presentable. She hadn’t even addressed him properly, how she was taught. With all the eyes on her, she felt a blush rush through her whole body at the embarrassing thought. But she had to. He wouldn’t like her if she didn’t follow the rules she grew up with.

Y/n daintily stood up and walked until she was right in front of Bucky. He held her eye contact the entire way, still not having said one word during this whole exchange. She gently knelt down until she was on her knees in front of him. 

“I hope I can make you happy, my Soldat. I am a gift from the Men who take care of us, and I am entirely yours.” Bucky’s jaw twitched. He hadn’t said anything this whole time, but his mind was moving at lightning speed. He watched this gorgeous, barely dressed girl sit across from him, and was already in awe. But then that girl got on her knees and declared her loyalty to him? In front of everyone he knows? He couldn’t lie to himself, he’d never been more turned on. But everything about this was wrong. She was just a Stockholm Syndrome’d girl who wanted to follow orders. But her orders were to make him happy. He finally broke eye contact with her to see Tony’s shocked face looking over at Bruce and Thor, to make sure he’s not hallucinating this. 

“Y/n, you should stand up.” He said to her in a hushed tone. Probably harsher than he meant to. He could see her visibly take a breath at the sound of his voice, his eyes followed the gentle slope of her neck down to her breast. She dreamed for years about what his voice would sound like, and it just rolled over her. But she quickly obeyed and stood in front of his seat. He expected her to say something else, but she was silent then. Her previous outburst was one of the few exceptions to her ‘only talk when spoken to’ rule. “What do you want? Where is your family so we can take you home?” He asked her. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes. He didn’t want her was all she could assume. She was made for him, so why was he turning her away?

“I want to make you happy, sir. It’s all I want. Please let me be good for you. I promise, I’ll be so good for you.” Begging was familiar to her from her studies. She didn’t expect to be begging for her to be able to please him, but she would do whatever it took to get him to keep her.

“No. Y/n. This isn’t right. You were being kept there, whatever Hydra told you to do is over. You’re free now.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and it broke his heart. She tried to cover her face with her hands. He didn’t want to see her cry, nor did he want to turn her away, but he also couldn’t just let her be his sex slave. It wasn’t right. 

“Please don’t be sad. This is for the best-” He tried to reason with her, but when he took her hand off her face so she would look at him, the contact only made her sob harder. This was all she wanted. 

“Buck, I think we should just let her sit for a minute. Can you grab her some water? Tony and I will try to figure out where she was from.” Steve said to Bucky- trying to end this painful and awkward situation. Bucky stood and walked to another area of the quinjet. He was grateful to be able to use this time to think.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need your help to get you home okay. What’s your last name? How old are you?” 

“Y/L/N” And then she went quiet. It never occurred to her that she didn’t know how old she was. Of course, she remembered her birthday, but she couldn’t tell the weeks and months apart, so she hadn’t celebrated it since she turned 10 in 2006. “What year is it?”

“When did they take you?” Steve asked gently. Being a man from another time, he could remember well the day he woke up in 2011 when it was supposed to be 1944. He knew how jarring it was to discover all the time that’s been lost, and wanted to spare her that grief.

“2006. I was 10.” She looked at him, and she could tell it’s not just 2008 by the look on his face. She knew her body went through changes over her time with the Men, but between the ‘dietary supplements’ they gave her, and the fact that she wasn’t looking in a mirror- much less shopping for clothes- she didn’t realize she had fully completed puberty. 

“Y/n, it’s 2016. You’re 20 now.” And that made the tears come harder. But she wasn’t so upset about the 10 years of her life. She was mad at 20 years of her life wasted. Since Bucky didn’t want her, all of the training was for nothing. She knew living for him made her the definition of a broken person- she wasn’t dumb. The idea of her Soldat was what grounded her all that time. When she was lonely, she’d think about the man the Men always tell her about. They told her how he was their ‘greatest asset’. And she often fantasized about if he would fall in love with her. So by the time she met him, she had already been in love with him for much longer than she’d care to admit- which makes the heartbreak of rejection hurt that much more.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his heart was heavy too. He tucked away into the tiny bed area on the jet after quickly handing Steve the water to give to y/n. It was too much. Being in that room with her, she looked at him like he hung the moon. But he most certainly had not. He was a murderer. Tony’s father was a scientist during the war, and Bucky knew him pretty well through Steve. And he killed him. He had scattered memories of hurting dozens of people, so why would she be so willing to be with someone like him?

Part of him wanted it. After almost a century of not owning anything and not having a choice, he was given the opportunity to have something that belonged only to him. A gift from the men who take care of us. If it wasn’t cruel, he would have laughed in her face. Maybe she was taken care of, but he most certainly wasn’t. She was brought in young enough to still be under the impression that Hydra wasn’t evil, just strict. He imagined for a minute how things could have turned out for the two of them if he hadn’t gotten free. If Hydra really was planning on giving him a gift. He didn’t like the last gift they gave him in the shape of an arm, but y/n was perfect. She was the perfect size for him- although his broad frame could dwarf most women. And her smile pulled at his heart.

He wanted to kiss her the minute he saw her. He knew he wanted to make her his.

And that was bad.

He rubbed his hand over his face and decided to rejoin the group in the middle of their conversation. Thor and Bruce decided to stop being passive members of the conversation and introduced themselves. Y/n was very confused at Thor’s proclamation as ‘God of Thunder’, but with all that was happening, she didn’t feel it was her place to question it.

“- a good thing we have spare rooms at the compound. You can stay as long as you like.” Tony finished speaking to y/n just as Bucky was walking into the room. “We’re gonna have a new house guest MC.” He waggled his eyebrows at the man who caught the back half of that conversation.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. This would only make the situation much harder than it needed to be. He looked to Steve for an explanation. The blond stood up and made his way over to Bucky.

“Look, Hydra scrubbed her records off of every database and-” He took a deep sigh, “Her family is dead, Buck. They probably killed them after they took her.” 

Then it was Bucky’s turn to sigh. He knew the right thing to do was to help her, but he also knew how much he wanted to feel her soft skin in his hands. And that made her dangerous to be around. 

What nobody knew was why Hydra took the 10 year old from Georgia. In 2006, the Winter Soldier was sent on a mission to kill a scientist that lived there. Of course the poor guy didn’t have a chance when the Soldier was sitting in his house, waiting for him when he got home, but what the Soldier wasn’t expecting was a little girl to be coming inside with him. The scientist looked sleazy and didn’t have any children, so who knows what would have happened to her if the Soldier didn’t get there in time. She screamed and cried. The comm in his ear commanded him to kill the girl for being a witness. But the part of the Soldier that was still Bucky wanted her to be safe. He shushed the little girl and asked her for her address. When she recited it to him, he rubbed her head and told her she was a good girl, before he dug his metal fingers into the child’s pressure points and she fell limp into his arms. y/n woke up in her bed, crying at the bad dream she must have had- her mother not even home yet. That was the first act of defiance Hydra ever experienced from the Winter Soldier. First sign of humanity and compassion. They knew if the mind control was getting weaker, he would be harder to control next time they unfroze him, but his protective nature of the girl would make her an asset to them.

Her capture was arranged before his heart was fully frozen in the chamber. Neither Bucky nor y/n remembered this- Bucky only remembering parts of his time under their control, and y/n never thinking about that bad dream again, but the connection was still there as strong as it was that day 10 years ago.

Part 3

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff. 

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget. 

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement. 

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier. 

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs. 

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child. 

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands. 

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance. 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother. 

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement. 

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment. 

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd. 

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over. 

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

 He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “ 

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “ 

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.” 

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “ 

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “ 

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “ 

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie. 

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place. 

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors. 

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper. 

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “ 

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “ 

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous. 

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds. 

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls. 

“ Millennium Falcon playset.” 

“ You and a million other little boys. “ 

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face. 

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street.  “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity. 

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

[schmokschmok]

star dust imprints on her waiting skin

I'm really happy to finally share the pinch hit I wrote for @avatar-rarepair-exchange-2021 for @loopy777, I had so much fun writing this!

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Relationship: Azula x Yue

Characters: Azula, Yue, Zuko

Wordcount: 5100 (17 Triple Drabble)

Tags:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Arranged Marriage

POV Second Person

Summary:

This is the stranger you’re supposed to marry. The princess presented to your father as your equal. The girl you have never seen before.

aka: The politically motivated engagement of Yue and Azula that soft-boils Azula's heart over the course of several years. (5 facts disguised as secrets that Yue shares with Azula, + 1 secret disguised as fact that Azula keeps for herself.)

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186226

Translation into German available: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231442

CN: Food, Toxic Relationships (Azula and her father)

#1

You straighten your back before your father can reprimand your posture. Your pointy shoecaps point towards the door, and you clasp your hands behind your back to keep you from fiddling. They dressed you in your finest garbs, pulled your hair back into a perfect knot. It was your mother who crowned you princess with a sharp needle and golden hair ornaments. The incarnation of royal poise confined in the flesh and bone of your nine-year-old body.

They talk about contracts, safeguard, and tributes. They talk about localities and modalities, about peoples and connections. They talk about alliances, coalescences, and loyalty. – What they’re not talking about is you.

Zuko and you are stood unmoving behind your parents and their advisors, feet aching and fingers twitching for safe ground. He doesn’t reach for your hand, and you don’t reach for his, but you wished he were closer to you every time your eyes fall upon the white-haired girl on the other side of the negotiating table who doesn’t lift her head a single time to meet your gaze. You just want an allied soul in this room that can soothe the fire in your veins that flares up again and again and again as you examine the straight line of her shoulders; as your gaze falls upon the blue of her clothes and the brown of her boots; as her name is dropped as little as yours.

You can’t do anything other than look at her. Not only because she’s in your direct line of vision but also because you hope you can read your future in her clasped hands, star dust imprints on her waiting skin.

This is the stranger you are to marry. The princess presented to your father as your equal. The girl you have never seen before.

  #2

Your father beckons you to step forward. You’re supposed to bow and not say a word because everything has already been said without you. But perchance you’re able to catch a genuine glimpse of her face. The face of the girl who steps up in all her graceful serenity, fingers wound around an object in front of her body so firmly you can’t even see it up close.

Now she stands right before you and you can see the allusion of a smile on her lips; that small and invisible that no one but you may notice; a conspiratorial smile just for you, a secret between you that no one else is privy to. – You don’t want her intimacy, her conspiracy, but yet you answer by swallowing down the anger and helplessness that spreads through your veins. All that remains is the embers beneath your midriff.

In the hollow of her hands lie a dark ribbon and a blue, cut stone. She bows her head, avoiding your gaze and stretching out her hands, she’s offering you a necklace, and you don’t know if it would be justified to reach for it, so you reach for her hands instead and bring them to your neck, although everything in you rebels against the thought of strange hands on your vulnerable throat. But when her touch, as she puts the necklace on your neck, is feather-light you seek her gaze in surprise. You can’t find it. She doesn’t stop not looking at you. And as she lets go of the necklace and takes a step back, the weight of the stone brings down the weight of her gift onto your shoulders.

You’ll be married once you’re sixteen, and although your entire life so far is ahead of you, it feels like the end.

  #3

In the evening you put the chain on your bedside table, in the morning on your neck, at night it disperses the light of the moon and at noon your will.

Zuko says he’s your father’s heir and that there is no place for you anymore. Zuko says the only place for you is in the midst of ice and snow. Zuko says they’re going to send you away because you’re not getting married, you’re being married off. You, however, know he’s wrong. You know your father would never allow them to send you away. You know your place is on the throne of the Fire Lord and nowhere else.

Ty Lee says it’s so very romantic that you can carry around your fiancée’s promise every day for everyone to see. Ty Lee says it’s so very sensible that the stone was cut just for you, by hands that tried to create the perfect gift for you. Ty Lee says you’re so very lucky that you know what awaits you in your future. You, however, know she’s misguided. You know the stone is your brand mark. You know everyone should be able to see who you really belong to, that you don’t belong here anymore, like Zuko said.

Your mother says it’s alright to be sad. Your mother says you can cry whenever you feel the urge. Your mother says she understands how you feel because she had been in your situation herself before she married Ozai but she’s so very happy now with Zuko and you. You, however, know she’s lying. You know she’s the one who told your father to accept the plea of the Northern Water Tribe. You know she’s the one who doesn’t want you to be here, and that Zuko will end up being right.

  #4

They have kuspuk and parka and mukluks ready for you. Thick and lined und far too much too blue. In the clandestineness of your room, you slip into the heavy fabric and you don’t recognise yourself underneath all that winter. Your own eyes stare back out of the mirror but the rest of you that you can see belongs to the fiancée of the princess of the Northern Water Tribe.

Most of the time you’re able to forget what is awaiting you, the heavy necklace an everyday weight, but in moments like this the weight of the world rests on your shoulders. The day you must leave for good is approaching and no amount of hoping and pleading and begging will keep them from sending you away.

“You look like one of them,” Zuko says and in your haste to turn around you trip over the mukluks behind you. Arms crossed in front of his body and head tilted, he watches you struggling with your balance.

He’s about to turn away as if he has been only waiting for a chance to taunt you and disappear, coming away full-handed, but then he pauses and his wandering eye studies your room until it finds its way back to you. Maybe he views the hard line of your mouth as victory, maybe the fur-trimmed hood as triumph. Maybe he wants to bask once more in the realisation that it is you who was wrong; that your mother has achieved all her goals. You must go and Zuko is going to ascend the throne.

Before he finally turns to go, his gaze softens only for a moment, you almost don’t recognise him, and he says: “Blue suits you.” And suddenly, you’re alone again, drowning in a parka made for someone bigger than you.

  #5

The seasons pass you by, in reality, however, it is you passing by the landscapes. It doesn’t comfort you, the steady progress of the royal sloop, the constant trampling of the Komodo rhinos, the never-ending roar of the sea you can always hear, feet on board or land. The cold air an incessant memory that you have left the Fire Nation and its heat behind. Proof that it doesn’t matter that you’ve spent your entire life being better and best; that it’s worthless, the word of your father to whom you’ve given all your loyalty; it doesn’t make a difference that you would become heir to the throne if Zuko would misstep because you’ve already gone too far. You’ve reached the outskirts of the Northern Water Tribe and the masses of snow and ice are shining towards you.

From now on, this is to be your home, the place you’re going to live, the realm where you’re merely the consort of the regent. You are made for greater things but Zuko is the one who will end up on the throne because your mother’s care has ensured that you will never attain what you’ve fought for.

It is the first time in your life you will not get what you want; the first time you will have to submit to a decision made against your will; the first time it looks like you will just have to resign yourself to your fate. And your fate is to live out your existence at the North Pole while the cold drives the fire out of your veins.

But the reality is actually this: Your mother is no more and Zuko is gone, but they still didn’t call you back, all three of you were mistaken. You, however, don’t know anything about it.

  #6

You miss Mai, Ty Lee and your afternoons in the palace garden. You miss trainings fights and talking behind closed doors about the things Ty Lee and May can’t confide in anybody else. You miss the warm feeling of gratification that spread through the pit of your stomach whenever Mai asked in a low voice: “Don’t tell anyone, Azula, not even Ty Lee.” You miss the intoxicating feeling of sprinkling barely decipherable hints of all their secrets into conversations, always bordering on revelation. You miss the feeling of being needed, of being in control, of not being alone.

At the North Pole, you’re lonely, an oil lamp amidst arctic wind.

Sometimes you’re lonely together with Yue. Lonely because she doesn’t belong to you but to the Northern Water Tribe; expressions of loyalty would be nothing but hollow phrases. Together because sometimes she looks at you as if wants to whisper soft words meant only for your ears. But most of the time she blinks decidedly and averts her gaze from you as if she had just noticed who’s sitting in front of her. (That you’re sitting in front of her.)

(Sometimes you wonder what Yue could confide in you. You wonder what secrets lie dormant in a person like Princess Yue; what feelings and thoughts, that she wouldn’t share with anyone else, are hidden behind her superficially polite words; what vulnerabilities are buried beneath her introspective smile and kind eyes. You wonder how far you would have to dig to reveal what is hidden inside her. But most of the time you are preoccupied dealing with the anger that is constantly threatening to burn its way out of you that you can’t concentrate on anything but breathing in and breathing out and breathing away all the need for rash action.

  #7

The first secret she confides in you isn’t really a secret, it’s a “this one is my room, don’t hesitate to knock if you need anything, doesn’t matter the time of day” and an imploring “no matter when” as you walk past Yue’s door. But it feels like a secret, in this residence where every ice pillar looks the same and where, on some days, you can barely find your own room (which is not far from hers).

You try to think as little as possible about the fact that you now know the place where she is most vulnerable, because there can only be one reason why Yue has taken this step towards you: She is trying to gain a strategic advantage by laying the groundwork to be able to extract information from you without you seeing through her game. It doesn’t matter that you find yourself at her door on bad days, hand only moments away from knocking, because the thing is: Yue is not the only one capable of coming up with a game plan – a battle plan, really – and you’re tired of waiting for the situation to change on its own; tired of waiting for your father to finally bring you back home; tired of being passive and deedless and waiting. You want to finally take action, and maybe the only way to achieve that goal is to beat Yue at her own game; even if that means taking different paths than you’re used to go. (You know what your father would ask of you to win Azulon over. And how difficult could it be to conquer a princess that has already laid claim to you far too long ago? You can be perfect for her, you think, doesn’t take too much effort. A cinch, really.)

  #8

“I’ve never been interested in card games,” you say in way of greeting, your shoulder leaning against the doorframe and the offer of peace in your voice. Yue winces, visibly taken off-guard by your appearance. “My strength has always been more in Hide and Explode and the shell game.”

For a moment, her fingers fiddle with the Water Four she was about to place on the second pile from the left. Then she places the card next to the board and indicates for you to enter.

Your shoes almost slip on the ice, but you carry it off well that the floor catches you unprepared in unsuspecting moments and throws you off balance.

As you sit with her on the carpet in front of her bed, she says: “Usually, I play Pai Sho.” For a moment you’re reminded of Uncle Iroh, whom you have seen playing Pai Sho so many times but who never offered you teach you – just as he never wanted to teach you generating lightning. (You took up the lightning, discarding the Pai Sho.)

“I’ve never played Pai Sho,” you retort, while you can’t believe that a first opportunity to gain her trust presented itself so quickly and so obviously (a mundane opportunity, but you’re patient. This is your road to the throne, albeit the wrong one), and you swallow your anger at Iroh.

“Oh,” Yue says quietly. “I can show you how it’s played.” She makes no move to stand up. “But you’ll have to do something for me in return, all right?” A conspiratorial smile spreads across her lips; a smile you have seen before, and you brace yourself for the worst. But you do nod determinedly. “You gonna explain to me what Hide and Explode is.”

This will be even easier than you expected.

  #9

The second secret she confides in you is not necessarily a secret either, but you let it pass as one because it means moving a step forward. You sit outside the palace and she explains the rules of Ice Marbles, which, unlike Pai Sho, seems like something you might actually enjoy. (You’re good at Pai Sho, a natural-born strategist, but little comes close to the sweet satisfaction of a victory evoked by a game in which you had to really put yourself out.)

Her hand cups yours as she corrects your grip, and you concentrate all your strength on simply accepting her feather-light touch. (You remember the first time she touched you, you feel the stone on your neck, making you much less of an outcast here.)

“Since you’ve arrived,” Yue says suddenly, without taking her hand from yours, “I wonder how on earth it’s possible that you don’t freeze.” She looks at your red and black coat, clearly not designed for North Pole temperatures.

You stare at the marble in your hand and reply: “Fire.”

The temperature of your fingers increases, and with the melting of the ice marble, Yue pulls her hand away to avoid burning her skin on yours. You regret a little that you didn’t tease the same indignant reaction out of Yue that Zuko would have displayed in this situation. But you also don’t expect her to say in a low, concerned voice: “You must be awfully hungry from all that bending.”

She doesn’t ask why you’re still dressed in the thin coats of the Fire Nation and not the warm parkas of the Water Tribe, even though so much time has passed by. Instead, she shows you the way into the kitchen and the best way to obtain a midnight snack without getting caught.

 #10

Your hot fingers bend metal, that was once a necklace of yours, into a new shape and you wonder what exactly it is you are doing here. Or rather: You know exactly what you are doing, but you cannot explain why you are doing it.

For years, the betrothal necklace around your neck hasn’t felt as heavy as it did when you were still in the Fire Nation, and by now you know the necklaces are given away by the courting to the courted. You know that wearing the necklace marks you as courted, as ensnared, as smitten, and you’re so very tired of seeing Yue’s bare neck peeking out of the collar of her parka. You’re not the kind of person whose benevolence is ensured without wearing your sign, too. Showing your allegiance so very publically when Yue’s not also constantly reminded that you’re not the only one who belongs to someone else.

So, you sit in the snow, wrapped in your coat and focusing your full attention on the gentle, precise bending of the metal to make a pendant for the red ribbon you pulled from another one of your necklaces. (You have no use for all the jewellery they bestowed upon you when you were forced to leave. There is only one necklace left for you to wear until you’re married.)

You dip the pendant into the snow to smother the glow and you look at the teardrop shaped thing into which you still have to engrave flames to avoid any confusion about who Yue is belonging to.

(In the end they look more like churning waves, you’re not an artist by any means, but Yue’s smile is so frighteningly genuine and so surprisingly infectious that you don’t mind it as you put the necklace on her.)

  #11

The third secret she confides in you may not be a deep, dark secret but it must be enough to reassure you that you are on the right track.

“I know a spot,” Yue said before she led you outside late at night and posited you right behind her on a polar bear dog. You rode for quite a while and, after she asked you to, you actually kept your eyes closed. (You tell yourself that you did it because you want to convey to her that you trust her, so she can completely and utterly hand herself over to you. But she has never given you any reason not to trust her, hasn’t she?)

Suddenly, the polar bear dog halts and you feel Yue lowering herself from its back to the ground. You pause until you feel her hand rest on your thigh, the back of her hand facing down, the inner palm turned up so you can put yours into hers so she can help you down.

“All right,” Yue says after leading you away from the polar bear dog. She stops you and turns you in another direction, then, without letting go of your hand, she says: “You can open your eyes now.”

And as you open your eyes, the vastness of the cold tundra and the polar light stretching above hits you right in the heart. You feel so small and overwhelmed that only Yue’s hand in yours can stop you from turning back to the polar bear dog and fleeing. (You’ve never felt like this before, and you don’t know how to deal with so many feelings that aren’t anger or defiance or spite.)

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Yue asks softly, and you can’t help but look at her out of the corner of your eye.

  #12

The only reason you came back to the place she showed you was because you wanted to be alone. Truly and utterly alone. Just a few precious hours without another living creature, while the North Pole sleeps and you can be finally in your own element again. (The constant control of your own body temperature and the perpetual cold drains you because there is so much more inside you that isn’t allowed to come out.)

You stole a midnight snack from the kitchen and wolfed half of it down before shaking out your limbs and stretching them.

Everything in Agna Qel’a is made of ice and you can’t afford to lose the goodwill of the city by melting its infrastructure or damaging a few buildings. So you must use the empty expanse of the tundra to scratch the itch inside of you; to finally get back to doing what you were born to do.

At first your joints feel unwieldy and frozen, as if you’ve never bend fire in your life, but the longer you twist and turn across the ice, the smoother your movements become, until eventually you feel as if you’ve never done anything else in your life. Laboured breathing, you slip your coat off your shoulders, your upper arms and face steaming in the cold. As you stretch your arms above your head to stretch the muscles in your shoulders, you suddenly hear a voice you didn’t expect: “That was beautiful.”

Surprised, you turn to Yue, whose hand clasps the reins of a polar bear dog. You reply slowly: “Firebeding is powerful.”

Yue shakes her head and it almost looks like she is smiling at you as she says: “No, what I mean is: It looked beautiful.” And you don’t know what to do with that statement.

  #13

It’s the Avatar.

The damned Avatar is at the North Pole and you don’t know what to do. (Or rather: You know very well what would be expected of you. You know that if you father knew about the Avatar, he would expect you to report to him without hesitation. You know that he would expect you to put a quick end to the Avatar. And you could, because he is so young and so inexperienced and so powerless that it would be easy for you to overpower him. But why should you do what your father expects of you? Why, after all this time of not hearing a word from him beyond the order to report back, should you do what he asks of you? You have waited so long for him to explain to you why he left you alone. You have waited so long for him to take you back and tell you that it was just a gambit to give you the space you deserve. You waited so long and were disappointed).

(And then there’s Yue, who doesn’t want to hide from you that the Avatar is at the North Pole; who looks into your eyes with vulnerable, brittle faith and tells you not to tell anyone; who begs you to keep quiet, even though she knows your father would demand otherwise).

The damned Avatar is at the North Pole and you don’t know what to do. (And you remain silent, just as your father remained silent when you had to leave the Fire Nation. And you stay silent because you have to gain Yue’s trust after your father lost yours. And you just watch the Avatar becoming stronger and stronger, because he’s going to affect your father in a way you could never possibly have).

  #14

The moment you realise that your loyalties cannot lie with your family and the Northern Water Tribe comes in the form of General Zhao laying siege to your city. (It is the first time you think of Agna Qel’a as your city; feel Agna Qel’a as your city). You must decide which side you’ll extravert.

This acknowledgement should not be difficult for you, even though your father is everything you have ever lived for. But still you stand rooted to the spot in a pile of snow and cannot lift a finger. Everything inside you freezes and you can only watch as Zhao makes his way to the oasis.

Your heart wanders reluctantly to Yue, who asks you in a trembling voice to support the Avatar and help the Northern Water Tribe; who desperately grabs your hand and asks you urgently if you are on the same side.

(Are you on the same side? So far you have only ever been on your side and the side you would share with other people has always had to be yours. Mai and Ty Lee have been on your side and you’ve been kind of on your father’s side. But now it’s different, now everything is different, and maybe it’s time to take a side that you’ve chosen all by yourself).

“General Zhao,” you call out with all the potency in your voice, and you surprise yourself. Even though you live at the North Pole and no longer have the same power as before, you are still his princess and he must do as you ask. “What do you think you are doing? Whose orders do you think you are acting on?” And with that, your battle lines are drawn and you are not sure how you found yourself on this side.

  #15

The fifth and final secret she confides in you sounds like the greatest revelation Yue is capable of.

You sit together in the middle of the tundra, five-fingered gloves and thick parkas with fur-trimmed hoods protecting you from the icy cold of the wind. The only other creature in sight is the polar bear dog on which you sneaked out of town.

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” Yue asks quietly, without looking at your face. You brace yourself for her to tell you something that will somehow move you forward, that will tell you how to finally take another step further.

When she doesn’t continue, you encourage her to keep talking: “Sure. Go on.”

“When I became old enough to be inducted into political business,” Yue begins, and you perk up, because until now you’ve been kept out of most political matters, because as the princess’s consort you don’t have the right to participate in the conversations and discussions, “my father forbade me to keep on penguin sledding with the other children because it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to do so. But I still sneaked out one time at night because I couldn’t stop myself.” A blush spreads across her cheeks that you’ve never seen on her before, you almost don’t recognise her.

“Penguin sledding,” you repeat, bewilderment creeping into your voice. (You were expecting a mystery to match the abysses of yours, but this one is so far from your understanding of what mystery truly is that you can’t stop yourself from laughing a little.)

Her cheeks turn even redder and she tries to hide her face from your gaze as she embarrassingly exclaims “Yes!”, which makes you laugh a little more. Suddenly you are no longer sure if you remember the plan.

  #16

The scroll in your hands looks as if you had never opened it, only the broken seal proves that you know the contents. You look at Yue, who is sitting on the carpet in front of her bed, and you say: “I must pack.”

Frowning in surprise, Yue asks: “What?”

“My father wrote to me,” you reply, then hand Yue the scroll so she can read for herself that your father is ordering your intervention in the doings of Iroh and Zuko.

Her eyes dance frantically over his words and with strained disbelief in her voice she asks: “And now you must pack?”

“I must pack and begin to search,” you declare, your thoughts already half buried in a map of the world.

Yue sighs sea-bottom-deep before she can stop herself, noting: “You must obey his command, for your people, I understand.”

You snort, and the laughter that falls from your lips afterwards could almost be about Yue if it wasn’t so damn entertaining that it doesn’t matter how much time people spend with you because they fail over and over again at being able to read you.

“I must find the Avatar to teach him firebending,” you retort mockingly. There is nothing in this world that edges you on as much as malice and invidiousness and the mere gratification of doing something out of spite. (To your father, not to just anyone. The days he could enjoy your unquestioned loyalty are over. You want your throne, and the Avatar is the only one who can make it happen).

“I’ll come with you,” Yue says suddenly, already standing on her feet, and you can’t explain the warm feeling that spreads through your entire body. After all, you didn’t ask her to come.

You say: “Good.” And she smiles at you.

  #17

The boat Yue has organised for you is small and wooden and not at all meant for royal travellers in its sheer simplicity, but it will have to suffice to find the Avatar who is supposed to be in the Earth Kingdom. Yue has brought on board two waterbenders for your plan, who will not rat you out to Arnook (because they love Yue; a nonbender who is not even trained in combat, but who is so close to their hearts that they see nothing wrong with doing anything for her, even if their chief would not agree) and who are trained in steering boats.

You take one last look at the illuminated palace that has been your … home for the last few years, even if the thought doesn’t necessarily bring the same kind of comfort as knowing Yue at your side. (Yue, who, without questioning your motivation, has been immediately willing to do anything for her people, and thus somehow for you; who, in all your time at the North Pole, you haven’t had to convince of yourself in the same way as Mai and Ty Lee and your father, and in whom you can sometimes recognise parts of your mother that she only revealed to Zuko, but never to you).

“You want to tell them to put out to sea?” Yue asks, after checking her bag one last time to make sure she has packed everything. She has let you tie her hair into a topknot, and if it weren’t for the Water Tribe symbol on the medallion she has attached to it, you could easily mistake her for a Fire Nation princess.

You shake your head. “You do it.”

And then you reach for her hand and together you board the boat. Your journey is just beginning.

[pandabearisaunicorn]

Hydra’s Secret Weapon

Hydra’s Secret Weapon

Part 1

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Endgame Spoilers!! Small mentions of violence

Summary: As the world around you is crumbling down, half of the universe just gone and it leaves the rest of the Avengers into desperation and that’s when they find you. You and your two best friends who suppress special powers who could be key in defeating Thanos. Will they succeed or fail? That’s all up to you.

A/N: SOOO I came up with this idea of a storyline that happens during endgame, I just hope that it comes down on paper just as good as in my head. Fingers crossed! When written in cursive it’s flashbacks.Btw I apparently suck at writing this summary, might change that one up later idk (cringe face)

Masterlist  

The year was 1941, you had just finished your work shift at the local newspaper. Since you were a young female in the 40’s Germany it wasn’t easy getting a well-paid job so you took what you could get, even if that was cleaning the office.

It was the beginning of December and the wind blew cold on your face as you walked along the pavement. Your heels clicking with each step and your skirt and coat blowing in the harsh wind. You couldn’t wait to get home and warm yourself in front of the fireplace and gossip with your two best friends, Ellie and Elena.

You got to know the two sisters when you attended the local university and the three of you were inseparable ever since. Here you were, the three of you sharing a way to overpriced apartment in the center of Berlin and you couldn’t see your life without them. Since you lost your father to the war and your mother to illness they were the only thing that you could call family.

But, there’s always a but somewhere right? As you walked up to the front door of your apartment something felt different. You decided to turn the handle to see if the door was unlocked, something you never did knowing that the three of you always locked the door. Today it was open, your thoughts running towards that either Ellie or Elena must’ve forgotten, but they never did, did they?

You opened the door quietly and you were instantly met with dead piercing silence, something you weren’t used to. You took a big breath before continuing your pace into the apartment, leaving the door open. As you turned the corner you were met with both of your friends knocked out on the ground, a tall man dressed in all black sitting on one of the armchairs in front of the running fireplace. You looked at him in fear, his long fingers wrapped around a cigar and his eyes turned to look at you.

“I’ve been waiting for you Ms. y/l/n” He said, his voice low and intimidating. “It just so happens your friends here will do me so much more help than just you”

“What do want?” You asked, meaning for it to sound just as intimidating as his words but you failed, your words coming out more like a whimper than a threat.

“Oh darlin’ you’re going to be my secret weapon” his voice growing darker and his eyes black as he looked you up and down. You turned away from him, trying to escape. “No need to try to run away from me darlin’ you’ll only end up more hurt”

And just like that you felt something hit you in the back of the head harshly and you fell to the floor, everything turning black.

....

You woke up with a heavy chest and sweat running down your forehead, instantly looking around the room. You breathed out as you realized you were still in your small studio apartment in Brooklyn. The memories from your past still engraved in your mind and came to haunt you at night.

The three of you was able to run away from your kidnapper five years ago, that was in 2017, it’s now 2023 and you had been living under your kidnappers roof for over 80 years. You stopped counting centuries ago.

As the years passed you started to search for information about your kidnapper, realising that the name of the organization was Hydra and their original head courter was here in the United States. Due to your “work” you had been all around the world doing their dirty work, such as murder. All that while all three of you were experimented on. They wanted to create the most vicious and dangerous assassin they could. They had started with the super soldier serum that Dr. Abraham Erskine created in the 1940’s and made the oh so famous Captain America, what a joke. The story still made you laugh as you couldn’t imagine anything good coming out of a serum like that.

The second thing to come off that serum was the Winter Soldier, a man you feared for your life, the man who nearly killed you because you talked up to your boss. So, yeah you thought it was filled with humor that something good could come out of that.

Then there was the three of you, they had other plans for you. They did inject the super soldier serum but that didn’t stop them. They wanted to create a weapon, a human weapon to end their enemies and whoever stood in the way of them not succeeding. So, they created the ultimate trio, not just one but three. They managed to work in your DNA, making you inhumanly fast, inhumanly strong. They created a piece in your mind so you enveloped telekinesis, so you could move things with your mind including yourself and other people. A trait they used in their advantage and tortured you to only use it on their command. That’s what they did to all three of you, torturing and creating the perfect well trained assassins.

As they used the three of you for their personal use they froze you down alongside the Winter Soldier to keep you young and mind washed. To say the least not an easy time for you.

And now here you were, five years free and five years since people around you just turned to dust. You were happy that you had Ellie and Elena with you and none of them turned to dust in your hands.

You took another breath before stepping out of the bed and in to the small kitchen, turning on the coffeemaker and taking your red mug from the second shelf. Sighing in relief as you smelt the fresh smelled of coffee in the morning.

“Oh god do I love it when you make coffee in the morning” Elena groaned in her German accent as she walked into the kitchen.

“I know you do” You said, your face still towards the window above the sink.

“You know, you could use your powers for that” Elena stated as she sat down on one of the chairs around your round kitchen table, leaning against the red brick wall behind her.

“Yeah I know, it just feels good to do it by hand you know, somewhat feel normal” You said as you poured the fresh brewed coffee into your red mug and her green one.

“Yeah I know what you mean, I just feel better when I can use it for something good rather than bad” Her voice low and her eyes looking up at you as you set her cup down in front of you.

“Yeah and you’re getting good at that” you said and sat opposite her. “Wish I was”

“You will” she said and put her hand over yours.

....

Meanwhile back at the Avengers Compound, Natasha Romanoff was still searching for ways to bring all of these people back from the snap and looking for her friend Clint Barton at the same time. Whom everyone around her kept saying was a lost cause and she didn’t want to believe that at all. Yet she found herself crying every time she was alone, it was more of a routine now a days. 

That’s how Steve found her that afternoon, crying. Her feet up on the desk, hands covering her face and tear stained cheeks. Her blond bob had now grown out long and her bright red hair back, only the tips still bleached. He thought she looked just like herself except the tear stained cheeks, it wasn’t like her or more like the old her, now this was something he had to see daily.

“Found anything?” Steve asks as he sits down opposite her, her hands falling to her lap and her eyes glued on the images In front of her.

“No, it’s dead” She mumbled before raising to her feet. Seeing a picture of three girls all dressed in black leather head to toe. “Wait a minute”

“What is it?” Steve asks as he studies her features for any sign of what was coming.

“They, they’re real. I’ve always heard stories of these inhuman assassins that have incredible powers” She rambled on as she searched the web for them.

“You want to get help by assassins?” He asked in disbelief.

“I am one remember? Your friend Bucky is one. Maybe these girls are just like us, brainwashed and tortured. What if these girls can help us defeat Thanos? Steve we need to give this a chance? It’s just us now, we need more people on board” She exclaimed, he looked up at her and then at the picture of the three girls. 

She was right, to him they looked normal in the latest picture they were out having lunch or something, laughing and joking around. They looked like any group of girlfriends, normal. Maybe it was worth a try.

...

You were currently seated at the kitchen table reading today’s paper, that was something you kept doing as a reminder of your past. Elena was seated opposite you, her face stuck in her computer and she tried to get down with the kids as Ellie said. Everything was easier for Ellie, she was 10 years younger than you were which made her 16 the year all of you were taken away. Elena and you shared the same birth year, 1914, which made the two of you 26 at the time. Now 83 years later you were 109 years old, nothing you could see if you looked in the mirror, it was almost unbelievable that you could stay young for so long. Not a single grey hair or wrinkle in sight.

As Ellie were just turned 16 when you were taken she missed a lot in her school years so you and Elena decided that it was best for her to continue her last school years and trying to have a somewhat normal high school experience. She wasn’t hyped about it the first time you guys brought it up but when she came home after her fifth day at school and was talking nonstop about this boy Peter you knew she was enjoying herself.

You were just about to turn the page when there was a loud knock on the door, both you and Elena looking up at each other in confusion.

“Who could that possibly be?” Elena asked as you stood up to answer the door.

“I have no idea” You mumbled out as you slowly opened the door, still afraid of who’ll find you.

You were met by a petite yet well trained woman, her hair long and red yet her the tips of her hair bleached. She was stunning, you thought to yourself as you looked confused at her. She smiled warmly at you before opening her mouth to talk. 

“I’m Natasha Romanoff, I just wanted to talk to you about something really important”

“I’m sorry but I don’t want to hear it” You said and ready to close the door her hand came up to keep it open.

“Trust me y/n, you want to hear about this” The woman named Natasha said, her now warm look gone with desperation.

“Let her at least tell us what she wants” Elena said behind you and you looked over at her.

“Fine” You said and let her inside your small apartment.

She looked around the place as you closed the door behind her. Elena mentioned for her to sit down at the table as she grabbed another mug from the cabinet and pouring up some coffee for her which she gladly took.

“So, for the record I always thought you guys were a myth” Natasha started off as all of you were sat around the table.

“Well, clearly not a myth” You said with a smile, clearly warming up to her as time passed.

“Yeah well I’ve done my research on you and we need your help” She said and looked desperate at the two of you. “Though I was sure you were three”

“Yeah we are, Ellie’s at school. Why do you want our help?” Elena said, her accent thicker when the nervousness took over her.

“Oh alright, we need your help to defeat Thanos’ snap, when he erased half of the universe he took away son many lives including a lot of people we hold dear” Natasha explained and you just got more confused.

“Who are you anyways? And who’s Thanos? Can we really trust you?” You blurted out which only made her laugh.

“Of course you can, I’m with the Avengers, I’m sure you heard about us sometime” She said and that name sure did ring a bell.

“Yeah, that gang of superheroes who save the world? Yeah heard about you” Elena said and her voice filled with despite as you know what she thought about them.

“We are not as bad as you think Elena” Natasha said and she sure impressed you with her research skill.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sound offensive” Elena said as you took another sip of your coffee.

“So why do want our help? The only thing our powers are good at is dark stuff” You said and Natasha looked up at you, her eyes filled with empathy as a small smile spread across her lips.

“No it’s not, your powers could help us with so much and for good! We will help you train, help you control your powers and I’m sure you’re great at helping us finding a way to reverse Thanos’ snap” Natasha said and you thought about giving it a chance.

“If we say yes to this, where will we go and when?” You said and Elena looked at you in shock.

“Preferably today and to the Avengers Compound about 1 hour from the city” Natasha said and you looked over at Elena, her face confused yet she nodded at you.

“Yes, we want to help” You said and a wide smile spread across Natasha’s lips, a genuine one and it was sure contagious as you could feel a smile spread across your own.

Yes, you truly did believe that this could be a fresh new start for your little family yet you were terrified of what will happen and if you could really control your powers, you had always had a hard time with that. So yeah, you were completely terrified.

 To be continued...

[justanotherboyinblue]

Unusual Asks

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? spotify!! 

is your room messy or clean? ...depends if i don’t have company, or i haven’t been made to clean it, it’s relatively messy. well. it’s not messy to me, because i know where everything is and why things are...not...put away, but messy to Literally Everyone Else

what color are your eyes? brown!

do you like your name? why? i Love my name mostly because i chose it and i like how it sounds I Just Think It’s Neat

what is your relationship status? taken! i have two beautiful partners that i love very very much

describe your personality in 3 words or less Chaotic Disaster Gay

what color hair do you have? also brown dkjbsgalk

what kind of car do you drive? color? i don’t drive! don’t have my license yet

where do you shop? anywhere and everywhere alksjdb meijer? ig?

how would you describe your style? Grunge

favorite social media account discord! ‘s how i talk to my babies :3

what size bed do you have? a twin! v comfy, v bouncy

any siblings? unfortunately two brothers both are Assholes

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? switzerland honestly first of all, lgbtq+ has been legal there since 1942 like look at them Go oh my gosh also! i love german, it’s such a fascinating language but the biggest reason? that’s where moje rojena wants to live

favorite snapchat filter? i don’t have snapchat, and don’t really plan to kjasbdl

favorite makeup brand(s) don’t wear it! the only thing i use is chapstick lmao a wonderful vanilla chapstick by Eos

how many times a week do you shower? sometimes every night, but mostly every other night! so three or four

favorite tv show? oh gosh there are so many she-ra is probably at the top i love supernatural, and elementary, bbc sherlock, person of interest, steven universe there are a bunch of amazing shows i love!

shoe size? i think i wear like a ten and a half quadruple e do with that as you will

how tall are you? 5′4 i think probably

sandals or sneakers? flip flops!! or barefoot kadjbsgl

do you go to the gym? i don’t think i’ve ever even seen the inside of a gym

describe your dream date cuddle pile some show or movie on tv So Many Blankets but the most important thing the Most Important thing is that my babies are with me and that’s all i really need

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? i don’t have any cash, but i have like a little over $50 on my card

what color socks are you wearing? white with gray designs

how many pillows do you sleep with? normally three, but i’ll bring in another three if i want to build a Nest:tm:

do you have a job? what do you do? no job! i think my first job will be working at my local library

how many friends do you have? uhhhhhhh no idea a dozen? idk maybe half a dozen i really have no idea, and i have a horrible memory

what's the worst thing you have ever done? I Will Not Divulge Such Information

what's your favorite candle scent? there’s this one candle we have that’s tide+kelp scented but it just smells like a speedstick it’s awesome

3 favorite boy names Leo (obviously) Tobias Axel

3 favorite girl names L(again, obviously) Celeste i’ve always loved the name Andromeda as well! 

favorite actor? Ezra Miller!! they’re a nonbinary icon, first of all, and they’re an amazing actor in my opinion! they’re Credence in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Barry in Justice Leauge

favorite actress? hmmmmmmmmmm probably Margot Robbie tbh love her stuff also? have you seen the trailer for Birds of Prey? we Stan

who is your celebrity crush? don’t have one kjdsablg

favorite movie? oh gosh I Cannot Choose A Favorite Anything Okay i love Avatar(the one with the blue aliens not the Disgrace Of A Movie), and The Dark Knight, Captain Marvel, Abominable, and so many others

do you read a lot? what's your favorite book? i do! i used to read almost a full book every day Finding Me by Katheryn Cushman is really good, and so is Five Feet Apart, i love the Divergent series too!

money or brains? brains duh, if you’re smart you can make more money but if you’re an idiot with money what happens when you run out

do you have a nickname? what is it? not really kjabdsga my partners have their nicknames for me of course, but with my actual name you can’t have a lot of nicknames Leo calls me Q, i’ve been called Stefano and Viktor, one friend used Quimberly for a while akjfgbslkdfg

how many times have you been to the hospital? other than when i was born, i think only the once!

top 10 favorite songs Here We Go sweet tooth-Scott Helman adderall- Max Frost bambi- Hippo Campus roxxane- Arizona Zervas grixtronics- GRiZ iSpy- KYLE truth hurts- kidz bop (fuck off it slaps) walk man- TMG mr.clean- Yung Gravy peach scone- Hobo Johnson

do you take any medications daily? nope! 

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) definitely oily

what is your biggest fear? Ya Boi Out Here With Abandonment Issues

how many kids do you want? i’ll stick with my fur babies thank you very much

what's your go-to hairstyle? in my face covering my right eye so i can’t see with it because it annoys my mother and i think i look Hot

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) medium i would think? we don’t have a second floor or a finished basement, but i’ve never had to bunk with either of my brothers so

who is your role model? no one specific! just, kind people, yk? 

what was the last compliment you received? i think it was on...monday? when Leo kept telling me i was adorable XD

what was the last text you sent? to a gc with my partners saying i was going mia because I Have The Right To Not Interact With Anyone For Several Days And Watch Movies  no i will not be taking criticism

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? like somewhere from seven to nine i think i have no idea dude, i have the memory of a goldfish

what is your dream car? .... 1967 black chevy impala

opinion on smoking? bad for you, love the smell, not gonna tell you to stop, will just worry quietly in the corner because i won’t tell you what to do with your life

do you go to college? nope! still in high school, i probably won’t go to college tbh

what is your dream job? owning my own bookstore! with a cafe a cat cafe i have it planned out to a concerning degree

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? i’ve lived in one place my entire life and it’s on the side of the highway with no neighbors so Suburbs Be Like Scary

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? oh absolutely

do you have freckles? no and i’m salty about it

do you smile for pictures? of course! never with my teeth tho because my canines are halfway up my face :)

how many pictures do you have on your phone? don’t have a phone! i have a Whole Bunch on my computer though

have you ever peed in the woods? did not work out tried once Never Again

do you still watch cartoons? of course i do i’m gay it’s legally required

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonald's? i’ve never had McDonald's nuggets but Wendy’s has the best for sure

Favorite dipping sauce? ranch or campfire sauce

what do you wear to bed? pajamas???? in winter it’s long sleeve tees with fuzzy pants in summer it’s basketball shorts and whatever twenty-year-old shirt i can find in my closet

have you ever won a spelling bee? i’ve never entered one so no homeschool for the win

what are your hobbies? Anything On A Screen and books mostly books on a screen but i’ll occasionally pick up a paperback also food and swimming

can you draw? s o m e t i m e s

do you play an instrument? i played guitar for a while, but i broke one of the strings and don’t have the tools to replace it i really want a ukelele

what was the last concert you saw? i went to a college campus for four days with my youth group, and a band named Sing Love played every night

tea or coffee? Neither

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Also Neither i’ve been to starbucks one time and it was the most disappointing drink i’ve ever had i am a loyal biggby customer  even though i haven’t been there in over a year

do you want to get married? not in the traditional sense i couldn’t even if i wanted to because the us said No Polyam Rights

what is your crush’s first and last initial? L.R. + L.G.

are you going to change your last name when you get married? probably! or we’ll both take a new one together

what color looks best on you? warm colors!! i do look Fabulous in a nice cool forest green though

do you miss anyone right now? Of Course I Do I’m In A Long Distance Relationship With Two People

do you sleep with your door open or closed? closed if it was open my asshole cat would eat all my hair ties and my fairy lights

do you believe in ghosts? nope! 

what is your biggest pet peeve? uh people who assume? ig?

last person you called? Leo XD

favorite ice cream flavor? mint chocolate chip!!

regular oreos or golden oreos? The Golden Ones  they taste like lemon even if they’re not the lemon ones i love it

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? i don’t like sprinkles because i’m a Monster

what shirt are you wearing? i’m Not It’s Hoodie Season

what is your phone background? my tablet backgrounds are Leo and L because i’m a Sap

are you outgoing or shy? Both i’m getting a lot better in the confidence department, but i still get nervous and overwhelmed sometimes!

do you like it when people play with your hair? I Cry Every Time and so does Leo it’s adorable

do you like your neighbors? if i did i would hate them because i Can

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? not outside of the shower

have you ever been high? nope

have you ever been drunk? nope

last thing you ate? leftover itallian mac n cheese

favorite lyrics right now ..... ................. raindrops on rose and whiskers on kittens~ sTICKING-

summer or winter? winter!!

day or night? night, of course

dark, milk, or white chocolate? milk! or dark with sea salt

favorite month? hm maybe august because it’s just starting to get cold, but you can also still swim on the warm days

what is your zodiac sign pisces! as i’m sure is obvious

who was the last person you cried in front of? my mother Because Leaving Me Alone For Five Minutes Is Impossible

thank you Luxet for the questions!

[gnostix1]

in our time

by ernest hemingway

  chapter 1

Everybody was drunk. The whole battery was drunk going along the road in the dark. We were going to the Champagne. The lieutenant kept riding his horse out into the fields and saying to him, “I’m drunk, I tell you, mon vieux. Oh, I am so soused.” We went along the road all night in the dark and the adjutant kept riding up alongside my kitchen and saying, “You must put it out. It is dangerous. It will be observed.” We were fifty kilometers from the front but the adjutant worried about the fire in my kitchen. It was funny going along that road. That was when I was a kitchen corporal.

  chapter 2

The first matador got the horn through his sword hand and the crowd hooted him out. The second matador slipped and the bull caught him through the belly and he hung on to the horn with one hand and held the other tight against the place, and the bull rammed him wham against the wall and the horn came out, and he lay in the sand, and then got up like crazy drunk and tried to slug the men carrying him away and yelled for his sword but he fainted. The kid came out and had to kill five bulls because you can’t have more than three matadors, and the last bull he was so tired he couldn’t get the sword in. He couldn’t hardly lift his arm. He tried five times and the crowd was quiet because it was a good bull and it looked like him or the bull and then he finally made it. He sat down in the sand and puked and they held a cape over him while the crowd hollered and threw things down into the bull ring.

  chapter 3

Minarets stuck up in the rain out of Adrianople across the mud flats. The carts were jammed for thirty miles along the Karagatch road. Water buffalo and cattle were hauling carts through the mud. No end and no beginning. Just carts loaded with everything they owned. The old men and women, soaked through, walked along keeping the cattle moving. The Maritza was running yellow almost up to the bridge. Carts were jammed solid on the bridge with camels bobbing along through them. Greek cavalry herded along the procession. Women and kids were in the carts crouched with mattresses, mirrors, sewing machines, bundles. There was a woman having a kid with a young girl holding a blanket over her and crying. Scared sick looking at it. It rained all through the evacuation.

  chapter 4

We were in a garden at Mons. Young Buckley came in with his patrol from across the river. The first German I saw climbed up over the garden wall. We waited till he got one leg over and then potted him. He had so much equipment on and looked awfully surprised and fell down into the garden. Then three more came over further down the wall. We shot them. They all came just like that.

  chapter 5

It was a frightfully hot day. We’d jammed an absolutely perfect barricade across the bridge. It was simply priceless. A big old wrought iron grating from the front of a house. Too heavy to lift and you could shoot through it and they would have to climb over it. It was absolutely topping. They tried to get over it, and we potted them from forty yards. They rushed it, and officers came out alone and worked on it. It was an absolutely perfect obstacle. Their officers were very fine. We were frightfully put out when we heard the flank had gone, and we had to fall back.

  chapter 6

They shot the six cabinet ministers at half-past six in the morning against the wall of a hospital. There were pools of water in the courtyard. There were wet dead leaves on the paving of the courtyard. It rained hard. All the shutters of the hospital were nailed shut. One of the ministers was sick with typhoid. Two soldiers carried him downstairs and out into the rain. They tried to hold him up against the wall but he sat down in a puddle of water. The other five stood very quietly against the wall. Finally the officer told the soldiers it was no good trying to make him stand up. When they fired the first volley he was sitting down in the water with his head on his knees.

  chapter 7

Nick sat against the wall of the church where they had dragged him to be clear of machine gun fire in the street. Both legs stuck out awkwardly. He had been hit in the spine. His face was sweaty and dirty. The sun shone on his face. The day was very hot. Rinaldi, big backed, his equipment sprawling, lay face downward against the wall. Nick looked straight ahead brilliantly. The pink wall of the house opposite had fallen out from the roof, and an iron bedstead hung twisted toward the street. Two Austrian dead lay in the rubble in the shade of the house. Up the street were other dead. Things were getting forward in the town. It was going well. Stretcher bearers would be along any time now. Nick turned his head carefully and looked down at Rinaldi. “Senta Rinaldi. Senta. You and me we’ve made a separate peace.” Rinaldi lay still in the sun breathing with difficulty. “Not patriots.” Nick turned his head carefully away smiling sweatily. Rinaldi was a disappointing audience.

  chapter 8

While the bombardment was knocking the trench to pieces at Fossalta, he lay very flat and sweated and prayed oh jesus christ get me out of here. Dear jesus please get me out. Christ please please please christ. If you’ll only keep me from getting killed I’ll do anything you say. I believe in you and I’ll tell everyone in the world that you are the only thing that matters. Please please dear jesus. The shelling moved further up the line. We went to work on the trench and in the morning the sun came up and the day was hot and muggy and cheerful and quiet. The next night back at Mestre he did not tell the girl he went upstairs with at the Villa Rossa about Jesus. And he never told anybody.

  chapter 9

At two o’clock in the morning two Hungarians got into a cigar store at Fifteenth Street and Grand Avenue. Drevitts and Boyle drove up from the Fifteenth Street police station in a Ford. The Hungarians were backing their wagon out of an alley. Boyle shot one off the seat of the wagon and one out of the wagon box. Drevetts got frightened when he found they were both dead. Hell Jimmy, he said, you oughtn’t to have done it. There’s liable to be a hell of a lot of trouble.

—They’re crooks ain’t they? said Boyle. They’re wops ain’t they? Who the hell is going to make any trouble?

—That’s all right maybe this time, said Drevitts, but how did you know they were wops when you bumped them?

Wops, said Boyle, I can tell wops a mile off.

  chapter 10

One hot evening in Milan they carried him up onto the roof and he could look out over the top of the town. There were chimney swifts in the sky. After a while it got dark and the searchlights came out. The others went down and took the bottles with them. He and Ag could hear them below on the balcony. Ag sat on the bed. She was cool and fresh in the hot night.

Ag stayed on night duty for three months. They were glad to let her. When they operated on him she prepared him for the operating table, and they had a joke about friend or enema. He went under the anæsthetic holding tight on to himself so that he would not blab about anything during the silly, talky time. After he got on crutches he used to take the temperature so Ag would not have to get up from the bed. There were only a few patients, and they all knew about it. They all liked Ag. As he walked back along the halls he thought of Ag in his bed.

Before he went back to the front they went into the Duomo and prayed. It was dim and quiet, and there were other people praying. They wanted to get married, but there was not enough time for the banns, and neither of them had birth certificates. They felt as though they were married, but they wanted everyone to knew about it, and to make it so they could not lose it.

Ag wrote him many letters that he never got until after the armistice. Fifteen came in a bunch and he sorted them by the dates and read them all straight through. They were about the hospital, and how much she loved him and how it was impossible to get along without him and how terrible it was missing him at night.

After the armistice they agreed he should go home to get a job so they might be married. Ag would not come home until he had a good job and could come to New York to meet her. It was understood he would not drink, and he did not want to see his friends or anyone in the States. Only to get a job and be married. On the train from Padova to Milan they quarrelled about her not being willing to come home at once. When they had to say good-bye in the station at Padova they kissed good-bye, but were not finished with the quarrel. He felt sick about saying good-bye like that.

He went to America on a boat from Genoa. Ag went back to Torre di Mosta to open a hospital. It was lonely and rainy there, and there was a battalion of arditi quartered in the town. Living in the muddy, rainy town in the winter the major of the battalion made love to Ag, and she had never known Italians before, and finally wrote a letter to the States that theirs had been only a boy and girl affair. She was sorry, and she knew he would probably not be able to understand, but might some day forgive her, and be grateful to her, and she expected, absolutely unexpectedly, to be married in the spring. She loved him as always, but she realized now it was only a boy and girl love. She hoped he would have a great career, and believed in him absolutely. She knew it was for the best.

The Major did not marry her in the spring, or any other time. Ag never got an answer to her letter to Chicago about it. A short time after he contracted gonorrhea from a sales girl from The Fair riding in a taxicab through Lincoln Park.

  chapter 11

In 1919 he was travelling on the railroads in Italy carrying a square of oilcloth from the headquarters of the party written in indelible pencil and saying here was a comrade who had suffered very much under the whites in Budapest and requesting comrades to aid him in any way. He used this instead of a ticket. He was very shy and quite young and the train men passed him on from one crew to another. He had no money, and they fed him behind the counter in railway eating houses.

He was delighted with Italy. It was a beautiful country he said. The people were all kind. He had been in many towns, walked much and seen many pictures. Giotto, Masaccio, and Piero della Francesca he bought reproductions of and carried them wrapped in a copy of Avanti. Mantegna he did not like.

He reported at Bologna, and I took him with me up into the Romagna where it was necessary I go to see a man. We had a good trip together. It was early September and the country was pleasant. He was a Magyar, a very nice boy and very shy. Horthy’s men had done some bad things to him. He talked about it a little. In spite of Italy, he believed altogether in the world revolution.

—But how is the movement going in Italy? he asked.

—Very badly, I said.

—But it will go better, he said. You have everything here. It is the one country that everyone is sure of. It will be the starting point of everything.

At Bologna he said good-bye to us to go on the train to Milano and then to Aosta to walk over the pass into Switzerland. I spoke to him about the Mantegnas in Milano. No, he said, very shyly, he did not like Mantegna. I wrote out for him where to eat in Milano and the addresses of comrades. He thanked me very much, but his mind was already looking forward to walking over the pass. He was very eager to walk over the pass while the weather held good. The last I heard of him the Swiss had him in jail near Sion.

  chapter 12

They whack whacked the white horse on the legs and he knee-ed himself up. The picador twisted the stirrups straight and pulled and hauled up into the saddle. The horse’s entrails hung down in a blue bunch and swung backward and forward as he began to canter, the monos whacking him on the back of his legs with the rods. He cantered jerkily along the barrera. He stopped stiff and one of the monos held his bridle and walked him forward. The picador kicked in his spurs, leaned forward and shook his lance at the bull. Blood pumped regularly from between the horse’s front legs. He was nervously wobbly. The bull could not make up his mind to charge.

  chapter 13

The crowd shouted all the time and threw pieces of bread down into the ring, then cushions and leather wine bottles, keeping up whistling and yelling. Finally the bull was too tired from so much bad sticking and folded his knees and lay down and one of the cuadrilla leaned out over his neck and killed him with the puntillo. The crowd came over the barrera and around the torero and two men grabbed him and held him and some one cut off his pigtail and was waving it and a kid grabbed it and ran away with it. Afterwards I saw him at the café. He was very short with a brown face and quite drunk and he said after all it has happened before like that. I am not really a good bull fighter.

  chapter 14

If it happened right down close in front of you, you could see Villalta snarl at the bull and curse him, and when the bull charged he swung back firmly like an oak when the wind hits it, his legs tight together, the muleta trailing and the sword following the curve behind. Then he cursed the bull, flopped the muleta at him, and swung back from the charge his feet firm, the muleta curving and each swing the crowd roaring.

When he started to kill it was all in the same rush. The bull looking at him straight in front, hating. He drew out the sword from the folds of the muleta and sighted with the same movement and called to the bull, Toro! Toro! and the bull charged and Villalta charged and just for a moment they became one. Villalta became one with the bull and then it was over. Villalta standing straight and the red kilt of the sword sticking out dully between the bull’s shoulders. Villalta, his hand up at the crowd and the bull roaring blood, looking straight at Villalta and his legs caving.

  chapter 15

I heard the drums coming down the street and then the fifes and the pipes and then they came around the corner, all dancing. The street full of them. Maera saw him and then I saw him. When they stopped the music for the crouch he hunched down in the street with them all and when they started it again he jumped up and went dancing down the street with them. He was drunk all right.

You go down after him, said Maera, he hates me.

So I went down and caught up with them and grabbed him while he was crouched down waiting for the music to break loose and said, Come on Luis. For Christ sake you’ve got bulls this afternoon. He didn’t listen to me, he was listening so hard for the music to start.

I said, Don’t be a damn fool Luis. Come on back to the hotel.

Then the music started up again and he jumped up and twisted away from me and started dancing. I grabbed his arm and he pulled loose and said, Oh leave me alone. You’re not my father.

I went back to the hotel and Maera was on the balcony looking out to see if I’d be bringing him back. He went inside when he saw me and came downstairs disgusted.

Well, I said, after all he’s just an ignorant Mexican savage.

Yes, Maera said, and who will kill his bulls after he gets a cogida?

We, I suppose, I said.

Yes, we, said Maera. We kills the savages’ bulls, and the drunkards’ bulls, and the riau-riau dancers’ bulls. Yes. We kill them. We kill them all right. Yes. Yes. Yes.

  chapter 16

Maera lay still, his head on his arms, his face in the sand. He felt warm and sticky from the bleeding. Each time he felt the horn coming. Sometimes the bull only bumped him with his head. Once the horn went all the way through him and he felt it go into the sand. Someone had the bull by the tail. They were swearing at him and flopping the cape in his face. Then the bull was gone. Some men picked Maera up and started to run with him toward the barriers through the gate out the passage way around under the grand stand to the infirmary. They laid Maera down on a cot and one of the men went out for the doctor. The others stood around. The doctor came running from the corral where he had been sewing up picador horses. He had to stop and wash his hands. There was a great shouting going on in the grandstand overhead. Maera wanted to say something and found he could not talk. Maera felt everything getting larger and larger and then smaller and smaller. Then it got larger and larger and larger and then smaller and smaller. Then everything commenced to run faster and faster as when they speed up a cinematograph film. Then he was dead.

  chapter 17

They hanged Sam Cardinella at six o’clock in the morning in the corridor of the county jail. The corridor was high and narrow with tiers of cells on either side. All the cells were occupied. The men had been brought in for the hanging. Five men sentenced to be hanged were in the five top cells. Three of the men to be hanged were negroes. They were very frightened. One of the white men sat on his cot with his head in his hands. The other lay flat on his cot with a blanket wrapped around his head.

They came out onto the gallows through a door in the wall. There were six or seven of them including two priests. They were carrying Sam Cardinella. He had been like that since about four o’clock in the morning.

While they were strapping his legs together two guards held him up and the two priests were whispering to him. “Be a man, my son,” said one priest. When they came toward him with the cap to go over his head Sam Cardinella lost control of his sphincter muscle. The guards who had been holding him up dropped him. They were both disgusted. “How about a chair, Will?” asked one of the guards, “Better get one,” said a man in a derby hat.

When they all stepped back on the scaffolding back of the drop, which was very heavy, built of oak and steel and swung on ball bearings, Sam Cardinella was left sitting there strapped tight, the younger of the two priests kneeling beside the chair. The priest skipped back onto the scaffolding just before the drop fell.

  chapter 18

The king was working in the garden. He seemed very glad to see me. We walked through the garden. This is the queen, he said. She was clipping a rose bush. Oh how do you do, she said. We sat down at a table under a big tree and the king ordered whiskey and soda. We have good whiskey anyway, he said. The revolutionary committee, he told me, would not allow him to go outside the palace grounds. Plastiras is a very good man I believe, he said, but frightfully difficult. I think he did right though shooting those chaps. If Kerensky had shot a few men things might have been altogether different. Of course the great thing in this sort of an affair is not to be shot oneself!

It was very jolly. We talked for a long time. Like all Greeks he wanted to go to America.  

[shorilicious]

t/n: (from tangorin) tsundere = being on the surface sharp and sarcastic (tsuntsun) but underneath lovestruck and fawning (deredere), characteristic of a gap between acted out actions and feelings in mind.

My level of tsundere

Shori: It’s pretty high. You can see it well in the way I handle Marius (laughing). Regardless of gender, it’s embarrassing to fawn on somebody. So the way I tease Marius, I guess it’s not really different from the way I’d treat girls. Because I’d prefer a girl who loves herself (laughing). I’ll be kind in general but when I like you I will mainly tease you and be loving occasionally... That would be my style (laughing). But me teasing you is only proof of my mindfulness. „Even so, it looks like we can get along well“, if my partner thinks like that it’ll be fine. In romance or in work, a „fun atmosphere“ is very important!

Sou: In my normal life, my tsundere level towards girls is close to zero. „It’s the only person I can be tsundere towards to!“, I can only declare this to be true about Marius (laughing). Since Marius was a child before, I would call him „Mariussssss“ in front of everyone, I was amazed at my lovingly care. But recently Marius has totally grown up, right? It’s getting embarrassing to spoil him like that, so I try to put on a colder attitude on purpose. Then Marius starts whining and calling „Ne, ne, Sou-chan!“. When I see Marius behave like that, inside my heart I think „So far it’s going well“ (laughing).

Marius: I’m often told „Marius’s level of tsundere is strong“ by others. Since I sulk easily, it seems like that’s the reason why people think that (laughing). But I think that is a little different from the original „tsundere“ meaning. The people who often tease me though are Fuma-kun and Shori-kun! (In reply, Shori who is sitting behind him bumps Marius’ chair from behind on purpose) See, that’s what I mean! I have to sulk because he keeps doing things like that. (Now Shori gets up and stands right next to Marius to keep staring at his face intensely) ...Come on, I don’t know the meaning of this (laughing)! However him teasing me like that, it’s annoying but it still makes me happy. When he’s being kind to me, he’s really kind though... wait, what? Rather than talking about me, this turned into a talk about Shori-kun’s tsundere side (laughing)!

Kento: I guess towards girls I can be quite tsundere. But for people who are expecting „Kurosaki-kun~“, it won’t be to that extent (laughing). Since I think I want to tease the girl I like, I won’t always be sweet. Some people might say „I want to be swayed by my girlfriend“ but I’m the complete opposite. When it comes to love I want to be superior... I also have a fundamental desire like that.

Fuma: When it comes to girls, I’m not really lovey-dovey. You can expect me being tsuntsun but not dere (laughing). Of course, I won’t be fawning or crying... I don’t think I will do those things. If I did that, I think I would get beaten up by the girl’s father (laughing). However, when I let my guard down I think I will say things like „You look ugly today~“. I like people with that kind of gap. Even with our male and female staff members, I like people who can handle people like me. If I have a partner like that, I’ll be able to let the really harsh Fuma come out. If you return the opposite and be really lovingly towards me still, I think you’re genuine about me then.

My ideal level of tsundere in a girl

Shori: I think it’s cute when a girl is peevish but I’ll be troubled if she’s seriously angry at me. When I am at fault I will properly apologise in a gentlemanly way. When we fight because of something small where we can say „I don’t mind it“, then it’s okay to poke fun at each other. But people who are generally „tsun“, I can’t deal with that. As expected, I want her to be kind. Eh, which level of „dere“ do I want her to be? Well... that’s a secret (laughing). I’m too embarrassed to reveal such a thing so I’m not telling (laughing)!

Sou: Deep inside my heart I will be hurt by cold behaviour but I don’t necessarily dislike tsundere people. For example, people who don’t take action by themselves. When I say „Hey, well... I’m kind of hungry“, and the girl replies „Eh, you want me to make something?“ (laughing). Then I will say „Eh, you don’t want to?“, to which she will reply „...I guess it can’t be helped“, and finally take action. I’m attracted to that type of girl rather than someone who says „Aren’t you hungry? Shall I make you something?“ from the beginning. After that when we say goodbye, I will text her a message saying „I want to see you again“, to which she would say „That guy~ Even though I was this tsuntsun just a few moments ago~“, I think that would make me happy (laughing).

Marius: I think it’s cute when girls are angry. I think in that situation I would mess with her a little if she lets me. I don’t want her to get seriously angry at me though, it would make me happy if she can take a joke and pout a little. But next time when I say „Ahh, my shoulders are stiff from studying!“, I want her to say „Well, can’t be helped“ as she starts giving me a massage. „It feels really stiff“, she would say and I would reply „Really? Thank you. That was quite easy“. I feel okay with a mild tsundere like that.

Kento: I don’t really like it. When it comes to tsundere women, my mother is enough for me (laughing). She’s really scary. There’s a story when I was in middle school that I’ll never forget. While I was talking on the phone for a long time with a friend, she banged on my room’s door and yelled „Until when are you going to phone!“ with a loud, angry voice. „She’s shouting while I’m on the phone!?“, I thought that while being surprised. Well, I was on the phone for eight hours so I understand (laughing). Compared to me, she’s able to voice her opinions in a harsh way... that’s her way of a warm welcome. After that when I feel down, I might feel happy again if you can tell me something like „Hey, cheer up! I will hit you if you don’t!“

Fuma: Because I’m a tsundere type, I think I would be annoyed if my girl is like that as well and I’d say things like „Shut up~“ and „Eh, what the hell are you saying?“, so wouldn’t it feel like a normal fight (laughing)? When it comes to love, I think I want to be „the stronger one“. Ah, but when you say something like „Eh, today’s your birthday? I forgot!... Just kidding ♪~“, if you’re a cute tsundere like that, I might forgive you (laughing).

A good winter story♡

Shori: Winter itself is the best! I really like winter. First of all the air is refreshing and it’s not damp and humid. I could complain about humidity forever... I’m that type of person (laughing). The outside locations are surely cold but in that case I will take six heat packs with me before I go out! Also I’d wear a coat in this season, I can be fashionable as well. Food is delicious too. When it comes to winter food I like hot pot although it’s plain. The mizutaki I ate in Hakata was delicious. I am simple but rather than eating mizutaki in Tokyo, the collagen level there is amazing! Ah, is it already March? Then we’re one step closer to the damp and humid summer. Seriously, I’ll be depressed from now on (laughing).

Sou: It seems that during winter love will deepen. The city has pretty illuminations and there are many events going on. Since it’s cold you can warm yourselves together under a kotatsu, you can walk outside holding hands and you can share a scarf together, right? If it was summer you would say something like „It’s hot! Get away from me!“ (laughing).

Marius: I like winter in Germany! Growing up in Heidelberg, I liked the amount of snow during winter, there are many stalls gathered by the square and the Christmas market is built there as well. „Is this real?“, I feel like that every time, it becomes a beautiful and romantic landscape. The stalls sell delicious waffles and German cakes and all the adults drink mulled wine. But I also like the New Year’s holidays in Japan. I really like osechi and other New Year’s dishes!

Kento: I like love stories set in winter. It’s the season to long for other people, so watching a love story is going to warm you up and you will feel satisfied afterwards, right? Eh, you can’t oppose your romantic orientation (laughing)? When that topic came up on „HonmadekkaTV“, (Akashiya) Sanma-san talked about it as well. That topic came up before already but recently it has become more open. As long as there is fun in love, won’t it be accompanied by troubles, worries and suffering too? But when I see happy couples in the city, I think „Wow~ I want to have a romance like that too!“, so that turns into suffering in a way (laughing). I wonder which suffering is better?

Fuma: When work is done I love getting home to take a bath and then eating ice cream after. During summer I like a refreshing popsicle but in winter I love eating ice cream. It’s cold outside but when I just get out of the bath I feel quite hot so I go to my freezer to see which ice cream flavours I keep there and I pick one that I’m in the mood for. By the way, I think today I’m in the mood for matcha. I want Sexy Zone to try doing a CM for ice ream. Although I say it myself, wouldn’t it suit us pretty well? But not a „bright and cheerful“ kind, I’d much rather do a CM with a mature atmosphere. Not only Nakajima but all of us should have some sweet lines (laughing)!

Something that’s not good for me

Shori: I guess music. I love it too much, I can’t go without it. There was a time when I gathered my music loving friends in a studio and we did a band session together but then before I noticed, it was already early morning... my words now, does it really sound like I’m a bandsman (laughing)? We talked about music, practised various techniques and only did a short break in the middle of the night to go to a shop to get something small to eat. Time flew by in the blink of an eye. I thought I have to make sure to get enough hours of sleep, however it just turned out to be such an enjoyable time for me. It’s okay to do that once in a while, right?

Sou: Floor heating. Even in midwinter I can walk on it barefoot while wrapped in a blanket, so I feel cosy super quickly. But that’s not good. Even if there is my bed right next to me and it’s the optimal thing to sleep on, I’m scared to get on my bed since I know it’s cold. Before I realise it, I’ve spent the whole night on my heated floor until the morning... I often had that happen to me. I really turned into a „hopeless case“, it’s terrible (laughing). I’m afraid of that, so recently I always hesitate for a moment before I switch on the floor heating (laughing).

Marius: Tangerines and gummies. I eat way too much of these! Originally, gummies are German sweets. That’s why when I have gummies at hand, I will eat the whole bag. When I was little my mum used to tell me „If you eat too many tangerines, your whole body will turn orange and you’ll become an orange human being“, so I was seriously scared (laughing).

Kento: Strong romance. Well, I talk a lot about romance today (laughing). I only think about work 100%, so I think it (thinking about romance) will disappear eventually. That’s why when I long for a strong romance, it’s a little scary. Recently I’ve been asked about romantic ideas on television and in magazines a lot so I start thinking about dispatching it properly. I need a relationship, please (laughing).

Fuma: When taking a bath, while I wash my body and my hair, I often leave the shower on... I guess it’s that thing. Because during this time it’s super cold in the bathroom. It’s only during the winter so forgive me! A few moments ago I told you “I eat ice cream after getting out of the bath” but sometimes I even eat it while I’m inside the bath. I set the bath’s temperature to 42°C, then the cold ice cream tastes even better! It’s really a luxurious time. During that time I will return home all happy... My behaviour is bad but still this has become a crucial time for me.

Keep in mind I am not a native speaker therefore there might be mistakes in my translations. Also I’m not exactly translating word for word. Feel free to correct me in my ask box any time you want, I’d appreciate it! I apologize if someone already translated something before me and I didn’t notice, I hope you don’t mind.

Credit goes to yoshiko_mama @ LJ for the scans, thank you!

[letdecemberburninflames]

Bucky Barnes x Reader | Part 5

Summary: You and your best friend have been property of Hydra since you were children. You disappeared during WWII and were never seen again.

James Buchanan Barnes is struggling. He can’t tell the difference between memory and dreams. The counselor tells him you aren’t real. He’d do anything to prove her wrong.

Parts: Introduction  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 6

Fic Type: Bucky Barnes x Reader Series

Warnings: mentions of Hydra being Hydra

Author’s Note: If anyone is good at relationship advice, hmu because I need help. 

It had been just a year past the Civil War, when Tony Stark received information on the Hydra base in Siberia. Helmut Zemo, as it turned out, was wrong about Hydra’s other super soldiers in Siberia. They were all dead. All but two of them. Naturally, Bucky was on the first plane out to Siberia once he had found out. No one tried to stop him. Everyone knew that if there was even half a hope that they were alive, he was going.

---

James Buchanan Barnes walked along the rows of Hydra-built-and-trained soldiers who were frozen in suspended animation. Memories washed over him, wave after wave until he was struggling to keep his head above the sea of his thoughts. He was drowning in his own mind. Therapy had not been helping. At the far end on the left, he stopped. He stood directly in between the two last capsules, staring through the glass at the familiar faces on the other side. The largest wave yet washed over him, and he was swept away in the seafoam of memories.

The Winter Soldier analysed the beings standing in front of him. They were still children, hardly ten years old.

“002 and 003,” Zola cracked a twisted smile. “My newest creations. Hydra super soldiers, with elemental control.”

The two girls stood side by side, and even in their appearance they contrasted each other. The H/C haired girl Zola had identified as 002, had eyes that glowed and sparkled like burning coals. Embers of golden light flashed amongst the flames that her eyes seemed to dance with, a dangerous spiral of scarlet and umber. They held emotion and passion and fury, concentrated into a venomous glare. The F/H/C haired girl that stood next to her had eyes of winter. Unlike 002, 003’s eyes were devoid of emotion and life. They were as cold and blue as ice, hardened against pain or love, anything that might have made her human. Though through the hardness, they still sparkled like snow in the early morning sunrise.

The Winter Soldier suspected that their personalities and powers were just as contrasted as their appearance. Fire and ice. Dangerous storms, reckless, devastating, but if controlled properly would be powerful assets to Hydra, despite their youth.

“They were designed for this purpose…” Continued Zola, “And others. The first phase of their mission is to capture the Captain America. When all the phases are complete, I will have them terminated. By that time there will be no use for them anymore.”

The first phase was never completed. Bucky stared at the frozen figures morosely. Hydra had believed that if they could bring in Captain America, they would win the war. Zola had made them his mission. The Winter Soldier himself had trained them. He had trained them to become Hydra soldiers. Starving them, torturing them, depriving them of any basic needs in the name of making them tolerant to any pain or emotion. He realized now how much suffering they must have gone through. They were young at the time he had been introduced to them. Before that, they had been experimented on with no limits. They had been stolen from their families as children, taken away to be disfigured. Taken apart, and rebuilt to serve the needs of Hydra. Their memories were wiped and replaced with the sole instinct to obey and kill. They had no names, and no identity of their own. They were simply known as 002 and 003. He had never found out what had become of 001.

---

002 and 003 had been taken back to Tony Stark’s lab. Papers had been signed, and government organizations had been bribed. It took a hefty sum to sway them into letting Tony take them. Being taken out of suspended animation after so long had shocked their bodies, resulting in a comatose state. Until they woke up, no one was allowed in, excluding the doctors and medical technicians that were caring for them.

Bucky had waited outside of the medical room until he had fallen asleep. Steve had found him and woken him up, prompting him to go to bed.

Yet when he got to his room, he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, and eventually gave up. Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, still uncomfortable with the way it felt. He rested his head in his hands, trying to suppress all the painful memories that were keeping him awake. His eyes were closed, and mind so focused he didn’t even hear Steve Rogers enter the room.  

Steve laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Who are they?”

Buck opened his eyes, but they remained fixed on the floor. “Mutants. Designed for death, destruction, and… carnal knowledge.”

“Hydra’s favorite toys.” Steve confirmed.

“Children. They were just- just children.” He choked out. “And I- You... They were built to capture you for Hydra.”

Steve took a breath. He grabbed Bucky’s desk chair and pulled it over to where he was sitting. “Why did they want me?”

Bucky shook his head, looking up for the first time at his friend. Shock struck through Steve like a lightning bolt when he saw how much pain radiated in Buck’s eyes.

“You were their mission.” Bucky began tentatively. “They were taken as children to be built for a mission that would last until Hydra deemed them no longer useful. I trained- I trained them. Tortured them, starved them of basic human needs.” Bucky took a shaky breath. “They became as strong as me. Perhaps even more with their powers.” He paused, every muscle in his body tensed. “Once they were completed, they put me in cryofreeze to preserve my age. They let the girls grow and develop, working towards capturing you. In the meantime, they used 002 to control me. They saw my sympathy and exploited it using her as leverage. They, Hydra, thought they would win the war. Hydra would wipe you, like me, and you would become one of their soldiers. By then, they hoped the girls would be old enough.”

Steve’s rigid body language said everything, but he asked his question anyway, voice grim. “Old enough for what?”

“Carnal knowledge.” Bucky answered. “Hydra planned to give you your first mission.”

“No.”

“The final phase of their mission.” Bucky was damn near crying at the thought. “Hydra planned to force us to breed with them. Create the ultimate mutant super soldiers. Once they could no longer have children, they would be terminated.”

Steve shook his head. If Hydra had survived, if Zemo had woken 002 and 003 up… “Tell me about them.”

Bucky ducked his head and winced, trying to recall the memories that were slipping through his fingers. “I-I… I remember 002 the best. She was pyrokinetic; could control and create fire with the flick of her hand. She was the one I gave my dog tags to. They were German, I didn’t speak enough of the language to be able to communicate with them. By the time I became fluent in all the languages Hydra taught me, it was too late.”

Steve nodded, unsure of what to say. He wanted to help his friend get through this, but it was all so much.

“I remember… I told- I told them a story once. Hydra tried to make me forget, and it didn’t work. They sent me in to torture them, and instead I sat down and told them a story. I told them about Brooklyn and America and you. I told them about everything I didn’t want to forget.” Bucky unclenched his fists. “And then Hydra found out what had happened. The rest of the day was suffering. For me anyway. I don’t even want to know what happened to them.”

The air is heavy with silence after Bucky speaks, when suddenly a scream shreds the silence to ribbons.

A/N: As always, comment or message me to be added to the tag list! I love you all, thank you for reading! <3

Tag List: @mismatch-the-socks  @mutineeradept  @prxttybirdz  @koizorahana  @sammykat2hb  @marvel-is-my-life2099  @filia-sapientiae @tiffanypooh  @anise-d-castle6  @this-is-happening  @some-person-somewhere  @thegingerthatwaited

[possibilistfanfiction]

i got all the parts i wished for (it's an ache & it shines through me)

[anyway someone said they wanted carm & laura & their baby running errands n stuff etc on a cold november day so here u go, this has no real substance & is rly just gay]

//

i got all the parts i wished for (it's an ache & it shines through me)

.

is it a sign? or just a landmine?/ or a feeling roaming free?/ it's overtaken me/ gonna hold it 'til it dries up/ or pocket it for another day/ if it's me i cannot give up/ i'd rather that she stayed/ oh, slack jawed me/ can't you see?/ there's so many rhythms and harmonies/ & i'm walking the dog back —sylvan esso, “slack jaw”

//

the morning is the kind of harsh bright that tells you that winter will happen soon, that this is one of the last days you can comfortably wear sneakers and spend time at the park without freezing. you yawn once, just waking up, and when you turn over, there’s your wife and your dog and your son, all sound asleep, all various degrees of small. you watch them all for a few minutes, curled up and tangled, and your chest hurts, because they’re the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. you think they get more beautiful every day.

eventually, your stomach grumbles and carm cracks an eye open with a little smile. she’s tender with you, seemingly more so as time goes on, soft and sweet and honest. ‘good morning,’ she says in german, then yawns and shakes her head and says it again in english.

‘good morning,’ you say, and you want to kiss her but you can’t—you look down at your son and your dog again and she laughs, shifting to tickle both of their tummies. your dog scrambles around, trying to stand up, while your son squeaks out a little, delighted laugh and then babbles, reaching for you while he also has a death grip on carm’s hair. his eyes are a blue you don’t think you’d ever seen before until you watched them open for the first time.

you are so full of love in this moment, on this cold morning, that it knocks the wind out of you. carm looks at you curiously, because your breath catches and you feel like you might cry, but then she’s kissing your cheek and your dog is licking your son’s foot, which is making him laugh, and they’re all kind of a mess, and you just close your eyes and listen.

//

carmilla does things carefully now. not in a way that worries you—she’s not scared of hurting you, not timid. she just—cares. takes her time to make you dinner before you get home from work, a recipe she’d learned years ago in mumbai; just yesterday you’d watched her sit on the floor and rub waterproofing wax into all of your winter boots, working it in patiently with her hands, taking special effort along the seams.

you know why—the most special, quiet reasons. it’d taken you two years to convince her to go to therapy—four broken hands that hadn’t healed at vampire speed, more nightmares than you could possibly keep track of, and a lot of withholding sex—but she’d gone. with carm, you’ve learned that you need to go slow, with just about everything, but especially this. when she’d been in therapy a few months you’d suggested an emotional support dog for her, especially for during the day when you weren’t there. she’d certainly been enjoying her trust fund time, but you’d come home from work to her cowering in the shower, shivering, freezing and despondent. you’d come home to her sitting in the snow on your back porch in february, drinking whiskey and watching the sunset, and it was so cold out her eyelashes were coated with the remnants of frozen tears. you’d come home to carm hurt in so many ways, or reliving that hurt, tiny and beautiful and deeply sorrowful.

so you’d done your research and when you’d brought home a puppy to foster—his fur deep, deep black, his eyes light grey, with a sharp face, missing a leg; he was pulled out of rubble from a hurricane in the south—carmilla had held him very carefully, pet the length of his body with incredible gentleness, and smiled up at you. she’d decided to name him wittgenstein, so you’d insisted on calling him wit, much to her frustration. he’d very quickly become an important part of your family, and they’re scared of the same things: thunderstorms, sudden loud noises, when the subway gets stalled underground.

they’d healed, and it’d been years before you brought up the idea of children. when you had, though, carmilla had agreed much more quickly than you ever thought she would—but she had gestured toward your small, sleeping dog, his little sweaters in the corner and his organic dog food and his leash and snowboots, and then shrugged. you’d laughed and kissed her but you had understood: she is full of love, and she has always been full of care, even when it hadn’t seemed like it.

you’d adopted max months later, and carm had been terrified of him for a few days, you’re pretty sure. but she’s a fantastic mom, which you’d watched bloom and grow. she speaks lots of languages to him, whispers little songs when he’s crying. he seems to really like grabbing onto her hair, and she always gets up at night when he’s fussing.

the first time you’d brought him to visit her at work, in her little office with a mess of papers on the desk and what you’re pretty sure is hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of first editions and journals from famous philosophers on her shelf, she’d led you to a small café near campus, and a group of her undergrad students had run into you, and they had all melted at seeing her with this tiny, beautiful baby. she had grumbled but eventually laughed, his fingers curled around one of hers.

//

this morning you put max in his room, let wit stay by his playpen, and then walk back to your bed with carm trailing behind. you’re both laughing and you feel young again, you feel twenty again, when you lay this girl down beneath you and kiss her deeply, when you pull her body toward yours until she’s gasping your name in the golden light through the window. the hints of winter sun.

//

you lazily take a shower together, and you wash her hair, which she almost never lets you do. you kiss there too, although it’s without pretense, this intimacy. you get dressed in an easy rhythm, having shared this space for years. it strikes you sometimes at how profound and intense these ordinary moments of love are: of course you have fallen in love with her grand gestures—sneaking into palaces to dance at midnight, proposing on the roof of the philosophy building in the middle of a meteor shower.

but you hadn’t realized the magnitude of your love until you were grocery shopping years and years ago, and you had been getting vegan burgers from the freezer aisle, and when you had found her after she’d wandered off, she was closely inspecting pears, peering at them intensely. you’d been so floored by your fondness for her—this odd, brilliant, almost quotidian creature—that you still remember it now.

and this happens all the time, your love for her. when she’s making coffee and curses slightly when she spills a few grounds, then sighs and gets a clorox wipe from under the sink, when she talks quietly to max, when she smiles at you while you’re on the subway, holding your hand and not shaking at all.

//

today you have to run errands, but they’re not really important, so you bundle max up in his stroller and put wit’s sweater on, then his little boots. they’re really fucking cute, so you make carm wait so you can take pictures of them. she slouches and sighs but she’d put on a hat and a scarf and a legitimate weather-appropriate coat without having to be convinced or reminded, so you take it as a win.

she walks wit while you take the stroller, and you make her stop in victroire and of course she’s the one to find something; you go to jimmy’s for another coffee, chat with tahir, your favorite barista, throw the ball for a few minutes for wit at trinity bellwoods. it’s cold, and so you stop in at kenzo for ramen, try to feed max little tiny bits of noodles without making too much of a mess. you go to f as in frank and carm spends an inordinate amount of time trying on vintage sweatshirts, but she’s in a great mood today so she models them very seriously, which makes you laugh. it’s the only reason she does it, you think, which makes you love her more.

eventually, you can tell she’s getting tired, and max is getting fussy, and wit is panting. you make them all go with you to pick up groceries, though, the only real errand you’d had to run. you walk back with them to your little brownstone on euclid, and you’ve worked it out well enough by now that you can push the stroller, walk the dog, and hold her hand.

when you mention this, she laughs.

‘we really are parents then, hey?’

the tiny inflection at the end makes you stop, and take a deep breath, and she stops too, worriedly.

you shake your head, kiss her with all your might, so softly, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, golden leaves falling around, the last gasp of fall before the barren branches and snow. your son is babbling and your dog is shuffling around your legs, and carmilla—your wife—sniffles, just barely.

you back up and it takes you a second to form words, because her eyes are so dark and brimming with tears.

‘that was just very canadian of you,’ you tell her. ‘the “hey?”.’

she rolls her eyes with a messy, teary laugh. ‘that’s what caused a kiss like that?’

you shrug—you know you don’t have to explain it to her, not really.

she smiles, a grin, and you know what that means. ‘laura, i’m wearing blundstones.’

‘oh my god,’ you say, start pushing the stroller again as she jogs to catch up.

‘i have toque on—from roots.’

‘you’re an idiot,’ you grumble, but you’re laughing too.

‘i’ll make old fashioned’s with maple syrup while we watch degrassi tonight.’

‘i literally hate you,’ you say, but you glance over at her, dark hair and eyes and the prettiest skin, her warm heart and her beautiful brain, the golden light of the day waning, shimmering.

‘i love you too,’ she says, and reaches out to take your hand.

[lokiandbuckyaremine]

Who Would Ever Think They Would Fall In Love? Part 5 (Series) (Bucky x Reader)

Characters: Reader, Bucky, The Avengers, and Maria Hill.

Summary: Steve brings you into the team of Avengers, and you couldn’t be more excited. The only problem is Bucky. He doesn’t seem to get along with you...that is until Steve assigns him as your trainer. Things take an amazing turn when you and Bucky are assigned on a mission.

Warnings: Angst and crying (a lot), fluff at the end, some swears

Word Count: A LOT!!!!!!! I am so sorry for how long this is, but it is so good!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

You woke up an hour later after Nat had found you and Bucky on the couch. He was already awake but didn’t want to move you. “Good morning.” He smiled. “Good morning. What happened?” You asked groggily. He laughed at your appearance. “Well we both fell asleep. You didn’t make it to the end of the movie, but I did. It was a pretty good movie.”

You shifted to get off of him. “Well thank you for the warmth. It was much appreciated.” You smiled at him before leaving to get ready for the morning.

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You were combing out your hair after getting out of the shower when Steve knocked on your door. “Come in.” Steve opened the door, “Hey y/n. Did you have a good sleep?” He winked at you and wiggled his eyebrows. You grabbed the nearest object and threw it at him. “Oh c’mon y/n. It was cute. Look at it this way, it’s better than you guys fighting all of the time.” You giggled. “Fine. I guess you’re right.” He winked at you. “There is someone downstairs who needs to see you.”

You looked confused. You weren’t expecting anyone. “Uh who is it?”. Steve looked down at the ground. “Someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.” You shifted uncomfortably. You were hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was.

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You walked into the common room to find Maria Hill, your old coach, sitting on the couch. She got up and gave you a hug. “Hi y/n. Long time no see.” You hugged her tightly.

Maria was the one who helped clear your name and helped you get a new identity and life. “Maria, it’s so good to see you! What brings you here?” She looked at you nervously. “Y/N, please sit. This will be a while.” Whatever she was about to tell you wasn’t good, judging by the look on her face. 

“Y/N, I have some very bad news.” You looked at her with concern. “The man that is in Paris is trying everything in his will to overturn S.H.I.E.L.D, once again, over to Hydra.” You knew where she was going with this and started to feel tears in your eyes. “He is trying to find a weak spot so that he can use it against us, and give the power to Hydra. Well, he found one.” She looked up at you, and you started to cry uncontrollably. “Y/N he found your records. After S.H.I.E.L.D was compromised during the incident in D.C., your records and identity were sent back to Hydra. He has a hold of them now.”

You looked up a her. “Is there anything we can do? I mean I have spent years trying to clear my name. I have a home now. I have incredible friends. They can’t just take that away fr--” You began to sob. Your whole life was about to crumble right before your eyes. Maria put her hand over yours. “I’m so sorry y/n. We tried. Nick and I looked into everything. If this guy releases your information, we are both done for. We got Bucky cleared, but you are a entirely different scenario. Your background is different. Barnes was easy cause of the notebook. Plus we removed the trigger words from his brain.”

You cried even more. “Do you think it would be good to tell them now?” Maria looked up at you and half-smiled. “Yes, honey, I think so. Your friends care about you a lot. Telling them is the best thing you can do right now.” You wiped away the tears from your face. “Maria, what if they don’t take this information well? What if they send me out on the streets because of the lies I placed in their heads?” More tears were coming. Maria shook her head and laughed. “They can’t do that even if they wanted to. It isn’t your fault. You did the right thing turning yourself in all those years ago.” She sighed. “Let me know if you need anything else. You are special to me, to all of us, y/n. You are strong and can handle whatever is going to be thrown at you.” She hugged you one last time and you walked her out. 

You were scared for what was about to happen.

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“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, y/n is requesting your presence in her room.” Friday’s voice boomed over Steve’s loud speaker. Steve and Bucky were in Steve’s room playing cards. “Thank you Friday” Steve replied. ‘I wonder what the hell she wants.” Bucky told Steve. 

They both walked to your room and found you pacing back and forth in your room. “Hey, y/n, you wanted to see us?” Steve questioned you. You fumbled with your hands and walked over to the door. “Yea, uh, come in. You can sit on the bed.” You closed the door behind them as they sat cautiously on your bed.

Bucky caught on to your bloodshot eyes, which you tried to cover with makeup. “Y/N? What’s wrong? You look like you went through hell.” You brought over a chair to sit in front of them. You breathed in. “I have something to tell you both. Please no questions or anything until I’m done.” Steve and Bucky looked at you wondering what the heck was going on. “This is going to be some shocking and probably hurtful news. Please understand that I love you both and would never do anything to hurt you.”

Steve saw you starting to cry and grabbed your hand. “Y/N, we are here for you. I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Oh, but it was. You were scared out of your wits.

You breathed deeply. “I have been lying to you both.” You looked up at them, and read the confused looks on their faces. “My name isn’t y/n, it is Sinthea Schmidt.” Steve’s eyes widened. “My father was Johann Schmidt. Or better known to you guys as....The Red Skull.” Steve and Bucky sat feeling completely betrayed and confused. You saw how upset they were. Bucky started to stand up, “Please let me finish. You have no idea how hard it is.” He sat back down.

“I was born in 1920 to Johann Schmidt and Martha Schmidt. My mother died giving birth to me, so I was left under the care of my father. After he created Hydra, he dragged me along as his weapon. There was no love from him that I received....ever. I used to envy all of the girls. They had perfect lives.” You chuckled. “I wanted a soldier to come home to me and love me the way all of them did. But that never happened.” You sighed and felt tears swell in your eyes. “My father used me as a weapon for Hydra. I was on non-stop missions. Always killing and slaughtering. It was as if I had no heart or brain. He used me as his personal robot or toy. Hydra programmed me to follow their orders. I was skilled at combat fights. Hence why I told you guys that I was great at hand-to-hand.” You shuffled in your chair. “My hands were stained with blood.” You looked at Bucky. “You think you got it bad. I had it worse. I was THERE when Hydra was made. I was in the plans and everything. I hated my father so much. He was Red Skull, my master...nothing else.”

You wiped the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. “I fled the scene after my father was defeated. I went back to the scientists and they put me under ice. They hid me for quite a long time. I was their perfect girl, their perfect weapon...ugh it sickens me to think about what they did to me.” Bucky looked at you with hurt. He felt bad for you but then again was angry. “Years passed and I was still under ice. That is until the year 1990.”

This was the part you didn’t want Bucky to hear. “Hydra brought me back to the real world, which turned out to be Russia. They informed me that they were working on a new project called The Winter Soldier.” You looked over at Bucky who looked back at you wide-eyed. “They told me that a man by the name James Buchannan Barnes was rescued after falling from a train. They were in the process of reconstructing him when I reached Russia. Once he was done being reconstructed, Hydra had themselves The Winter Soldier. I had a front row seat to it all.” You looked up at Bucky with sad eyes. “I had competition now. The Winter Soldier would become Hydra’s new secret weapon, I guess, because I was too old and didn’t have a metal arm. They instructed me to help train this new Winter Soldier.” Bucky shook his head. “I know, Bucky, you probably don’t remember this. But I was with you every day. It was until they wiped your mind that you didn’t remember me. You actually tried to kill after being wiped one time, but I dislocated your arm before you took another shot at me.”

The tears were coming again. “I wasn’t there on December 16, 1991 as I was sent off somewhere with a new mission. I was bouncing from place to place, killing, shooting, murdering....everything. Hydra eventually found no more use for me, so I hid in the darkness. That is until I heard about the compromise in D.C. and then found out that Captain America was back from his slumber.” Steve looked up at you with hurt eyes. “I ran away finally. I could no longer stand being used and manipulated. My brain was mush. I turned myself in to S.H.I.E.L.D. That is when Maria found me. I explained everything to her. They cleared my name. I changed it to y/n. I dyed my hair and went through therapy. I even went to a speech pathologist to help remove my German accent. No longer was I Sinthea Schmidt...I was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was held there for 6 years. Maria continuously helped me.”

You smiled up at Steve. “Then Steve finally found me and gave me a new hope that I could change my life around.” He smiled back at you. “But Maria just informed me that the guy in Paris found my records, which Maria thought they got rid of. My identity is on the line, along with my life. I can’t go back. I just can’t go back to that hell-hole. So please guys, I need your comfort and protection.” You were done talking because you were sobbing once again. 

Steve went over to hug you, “Y/N we had no idea. I’m sorry you went through that torture.” You pulled away from Steve. “Wait, so you’re not mad at me? After the life I lived let alone what I did to your best friend?” Steve chuckled, “Y/N, look. I never knew you existed. Bucky went through something very similar that you just explained. Only you were born into it and was apart of it. The reason why I’m not mad at you is that you turned yourself in. That took a lot of courage and strength to do. Now you are here under our protection. If you’d like, me and Bucky will not tell the others.” 

You smiled up at Steve. “Thank you Steve, but they deserve to know too. I need all the protection I can get. Hydra wants me back. I’m weak when it comes to my past. At least Bucky here got everything wiped from him, so now he’s James again.” Bucky smiled at you. 

Steve laughed. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable y/n. So Red Skull really had a daughter?” You chuckled. “Yea. Here is a picture of me with my father.” You pulled a picture out of your pocket. It was of you and your father. You looked completely different. You had red hair and were covered in makeup. It was obviously your first training looking at your outfit. Bucky looked at the picture, “Wow, you looked pretty damn hot. No wonder you are so feisty now.” You giggled. “Thank you both so much for this. The nightmares will never go away but, I have you guys now. I was so worried you wouldn’t understand.”

Steve held your hand. “But we do understand. We all have something that we are not proud about. The team accepted Bucky and gave him a chance. There is no reason why they can’t give you a chance.” 

You smiled back at Steve, but it faded quickly. “What about the mission? I am putting The Avengers at risk here. I am practically the key to Hydra’s door. I can’t allow them to take you away from me.”

Steve looked down at his lap and rubbed his eyes. “We will still carry through with the mission. But plans are going to change. You and Bucky are going to have to go undercover.” You looked at Bucky who now moved closer to you. “I’ll do anything to keep y/n safe.” He took your hand in his and kissed it. Wow, you thought to yourself. You spilling the truth took a much different turn than what you expected.

Steve snapped his finger. “I got it. A good reason for you both to be in Paris would be if it was your honeymoon. You guys are going to pretend to be a married couple.” You and Bucky laughed. “Wow from hating each other to being married. What a great turn for our relationship Buckaroo, wouldn’t you say? He squeezed your hand. “It will be a tough one. I might have to really bring out my inner actor to be your husband.” He giggled.

Steve looked at the both of you and rolled his eyes. “Alright you two. Y/N, please know that I love you as one of my closest friends. I will do anything to protect you even if it is worth me being in jail. I fought for Bucky, and I will fight for you.” He gave you one last hug before leaving to the door. “Oh and y/n.” You looked up at Steve. “Thank you for telling me the truth. You’re a great soldier.” He smiled and left the room.

Now it was just you and Bucky. “Bucky I am so sorry for lying to you this whole time. I was apart of everything Hydra did to torture you. I will never EVER forgive myself for that.” He hugged you close to him. “Y/N, that wasn’t your fault. You were raised with Hydra in your veins. You even said you were manipulated by them. One thing Steve taught me that I will teach you now is that you can’t change the past. What you did then is not who you are now. You are better than ever.” He squeezed your hand. “I’m with you til the end of the line Doll.” He pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Hey, haven’t I heard that line before?” You giggled. Bucky shot you a glare. “Shut up Doll and hug me.”

You and Bucky were left in your room, snuggled close. In a couple of days you both were going to be Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. 

To be continued........

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WOW this is so long. I’m sorry but I have had this idea in my head for a while. Hope you like the little twist I added in. Part 6 tomorrow!

TAG LIST (Open)

@superwholockian5ever

@a-common-name

[max-is-drunk-at-comic-con]

SanversWeek Day 5 - Domestic

This thing here is a crack fic. There is really no other word for it. It’s the Sanvers/Hamilton mashup no one need and only @queercapwriting has asked for. Not beta-read and some words might me more German than English. Anyways, enjoy this mess of ladies loving ladies geeking on about musicals. (It’s 3000 words long, so be warned)

It all started on a Sunday a couple of weeks back. It was one of those rare occasions on which Alex, worn out from the previous night with Maggie, allowed herself to sleep in. Maggie’s bed was unbelievably comfortable and it was past 10 a.m. when she finally de-snuggled herself from the blanket and rolled out of bed.

The scent of breakfast cooking and soft music accompanied by beautiful singing carried through the closed bedroom door. Alex threw a t-shirt over herself and opened the door. The smell of pancakes intensified and the singing got louder.

As she padded towards the kitchen, she started to make out rapid words rapped flawlessly.

“I’m a girl in a world in which my only job is to marry rich. My father has no son so I am the one who has to social climb for one. So, I’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in New York City is insidious and Alexander is penniless. Ha! That doesn’t mean I want him any less.”

Alex came to a halt in the doorway. Maggie didn’t seem to notice her standing there for she was too wrapped up in flipping pancakes, frying bacon, and acing each and every word of the Hamilton song playing.

“He’s after me coz I’m a Schuyler sister that elevates his status. I’d have to be naïve to set that aside, maybe that is why I introduce him to Eliza; now that’s his bride. Nice going, Angelica, he was right, you will never be satisfied.”

Alex stood there, frozen in astonishment at her girlfriend’s beautiful singing voice and great talent for memorizing lyrics. Maggie whirled around the kitchen, seeming never to have to take a breath, barefoot and only clad in Alex’s old Stanford shirts, hair still messy from the night before, and Alex decided that she had never looked more beautiful.

The next song started and Maggie seamlessly tapped into that one as well.

Over the course of the next week, Alex found out that Maggie did not only know the lyrics to a couple of songs from Hamilton, but to all of them. Every. Single. One.

“And here I was, thinking that I’m the nerd in this relationship,” she teased her girlfriend one evening, after a flawless performance of “Non-Stop” in which Maggie sung ALL the parts. Maggie had laughed and had retorted, “Takes one to know one, Danvers”, but still had felt flattered.

Two weeks later, the astonishment Alex had experienced when she had first heard Maggie perform Hamilton songs had been replaced by sheer annoyance. No matter what time of day, Hamilton was blasting through both of their apartments respectably and Alex had enough. Yes, she did like the musical, but having to hear it constantly was just too much for her.

The next time Maggie was about to plug the aux cable of Alex’s stereo into her phone, Alex stopped her.

“You’re not gonna play Hamilton again, are you, babe?” she asked, voice harsher than intended. In her defence, she had just come home from a sixteen-hours shift and all she wanted was some peace and quiet and lots of cuddling with her girlfriend.

Maggie’s face sunk, but she shook her head and instead played some soft jazz. For the rest of the evening she was oddly taciturn and went to bed early. Alex’s brain then was too tired to really make sense of this mood shift so she just let it go and instead opting for some sleep for herself.

When, over the course of the next days, Maggie did not try to play Hamilton even once, Alex started to worry. Now, Alex was coming home to a quiet apartment with only the televised news filled the silence. She still couldn’t explain to herself why Maggie had reacted so strongly, though, so she asked her girlfriend about it.

Maggie just shrugged and said, “You don’t like it. It’s whatever, Danvers.”

It’s whatever was Maggie saying This thing is important to me, but I refuse to talk about it and rather bottle up my feelings, Alex knew that. But she also knew that pressing Maggie on the matter wouldn’t bring them near any solution as well.

On day four, it started to dawn on her. Maggie geeked out about the lyrics of the musical from day one and even though Alex had listened to what Maggie had said at that time, she had quickly forgotten all about it again.

When Maggie had to pull a night shift the next day, Alex used that time to really sit down and go through each and every word of the two-and-a-half-hour-long musical. By the time she had finished, she had cried so many times that she had lost count and finally understood. The topics, the language, the meaning behind those beautifully crafted lines – they meant something to Maggie. She could see pieces of herself in the characters. She could draw strength from the words sung. She was moved by the story and the music. And Alex felt guilty. Guilty for dismissing her girlfriend’s obsession with the musical as something trivial. And Alex wanted to make up for that mistake.

And with that, Alex Danvers got to work.

Kara dragging them both to the alien bar’s karaoke night a week later came as the perfect opportunity for the execution of Alex’s plan. They were all there, the Superfriends including Lena Luthor. M’gann worked the bar and J’onn sat on a stool watching her mix drinks.

While the group went for drinks, Alex took Winn, who was managing the whole event, to the side and secretively let a USB drive fall into his open palm. She had already divulged her plan to him and he just nodded curtly before they both went back to their friends.

The friends pushed together some tables right in front of the stage to have the best view. All of them had signed up to sing. All, except for Maggie, that was.

Other guests slowly arrived as the clock approached eight. Five minutes past eight, Winn got up on stage.

“Good evening, guys!” he greeted the crowd. “Wow, what a wonderful turn up! Amazing! Thank you all for coming here tonight for our monthly karaoke night. The list of singers today is long, and I have taken up too much time already. So, without much further ado, welcome our first singer tonight. She’s a badass, not only in her job, but also when singing and the song she sings tonight is dedicated to her wonderful girlfriend. Everyone, give her a hand! Here is Alex Danvers!”

Alex sprung up from her seat, got on stage and grabbed the mic Winn was holding out for her. Maggie just stared at her. Alex had never started before. She would usually squeeze in a little number at the very end of the karaoke night when most guests had already left or were too drunk to take in their surroundings. But now she was the first on stage, confident posture, and a warm smile on her lips.

Maggie saw that Winn quickly grabbed a piece of clothing from the very back of the stage and helped Alex inside a very founding-father-looking jacket. Slowly it began to dawn on Maggie what Alex was about to do.

“Hello, everyone!” Alex said into the microphone. She may have been addressing the crowd, but she only looked at Maggie. “I’m honoured to start off tonight’s karaoke, but I’ll need help from a special someone a bit later in the song. Don’t worry, you will know when.” The last sentence was clearly directed towards Maggie who just looked at her confusedly.

When the first piano chords of the song played, though, Maggie knew what Alex had meant and before she realised it, Winn had pressed a microphone into her hand and had ushered her to the side of the stage. There he forced her into a similar jacket to the one Alex was wearing. The only difference was that Maggie’s was brown and Alex’s blue.

Alex drew in a deep breath and then, voice clear and crisp like a winter’s morning, a beautiful soprano, she began.

“Dear Theodosia, what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name. When you came into the world, you cried and it broke my heart…”

All Maggie could do was to stare open-mouthed. Alex Danvers made an incredible Aaron Burr, Maggie had to admit. She had found the perfect mix of strength and compassion to put into her voice.

“I’m dedicating every day to you. Domestic life was never quite my style. When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart…”

Alex was now directly looking at her and Maggie felt tears sting in her eyes. She realised, that Alex had memorised the song for her only. The gesture made her heart ache with love for this beautiful, beautiful woman pouring her soul out up on that stage. Alex seemed not even to notice the crowd hanging on every word leaving her lips, but only had eyes for Maggie.

Maggie knew exactly when she was to jump in in this duet and she wasn’t going to mess it up. She listened closely to every word, tension growing in her body, but when Alex came to the last lines of her first part, she extended her hand towards Maggie to pull her on stage.

“Oh Philip, when you smile, I am undone, my son…”

Maggie’s alto sounded throaty compared to Alex’s mellow soprano, but the huskiness with which she sung the lyrics complemented her girlfriend’s voice perfectly. Alex kept holding her hand throughout her solo, their fingers intertwined, Alex’s thumb stroking the back of Maggie’s hand.

“My father wasn’t around,” Maggie sang, gaze turning to Alex, their eyes locking. Alex jumped in with her line smoothly and the rest of their duet was a dance, a declaration of love, a hurricane of emotions. And when they let the last note fade away, tears straining their cheeks, the crowd roared and rose to their feet and clapped and clapped and clapped. Maggie was in Alex’s strong arms and she was laughing and crying at the same time, the emotions too overwhelming to keep bottled up.

When they looked at the photos James had taken of them and the crowd the next day, they saw that they weren’t the only ones to cry. On one of the pictures, Winn was just vigorously wipe away tears. On another, J’onn was shown with one single tear sliding down his cheek. But the one they liked best showed Kara, eyes red from crying, with a sobbing Lena Luthor cuddled against her side.

From there on, Hamilton filled the air again; whenever they were cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, or just felt silly enough to practice their routines that initially all happened accidentally.

Therefore, it was no surprise that they were in the middle of a heartfelt re-enactment of “That Would Be Enough” when Sara Lance burst through the door. They stammered and they stuttered and they blushed furiously, but as it turned out, Earth-1 had Hamilton as well. Alex as well as Maggie gaped at Sara’s flawless Lafayette in “Guns And Ships” which she ended with a coy smirk and a hint of a curtsy.

Of course, Sara hadn’t come to Earth-38 to geek out over musicals, but after they had completed their mission, Sara insisted on victory drinks. They went to the alien bar, claiming one of the darker corner tables. Halfway through their second bottle of whiskey, Sara stroke up a drinking song.

“I might not live to see our glory!”

Alex promptly jumped in, repeating Sara’s line. Maggie followed suit and the three of them indulged in “The Story Of Tonight”. Half a bottle later, they set up a bet; whoever was able to sing every word correctly the longest didn’t have to pay for their drinks. M’gann gave up trying to shush them at one point and Maggie had already slid off her chair when Alex finally stumbled over “freedom” and Sara tried to both grin victoriously and not to barf at the same time. Her facial expression looked gruesome.

By the time the doorbell woke them the next morning, neither of the three knew how they had managed to get back to Alex’s apartment. The small loft’s floor was littered with discarded clothing and pizza boxes. Sara was sprawled out on the couch, wearing nothing but boy shorts, a top and one sock. A thin blanket only covered her insufficiently. Alex and Maggie were even more indecent. Alex had fallen asleep in her underwear, sports bra askew, and Maggie had lost her bra someone through the night, but hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on.

The doorbell rang a second time and the three women grunted at the shrill noise.

“Danvers. Your apartment. You open,” Sara grunted and flung the nearest piece of clothing towards Alex’s head. The balled-up bra hit her in the head.

“You’re hungover. Why is your aim that good, asshole?” Alex grumbled and rolled herself off the bed. The doorbell rang a third time and Alex yelled that she was coming while she randomly pulled one some pants and a shirt. She stumbled for the door and opened it. In front of it stood a young man in a delivery guy’s uniform.

“Miss Danvers?” the guy wanted to know and Alex nodded curtly. “Delivery for you, Miss Danvers. I need a signature on this.”

He gave her a thin envelope and held out his clipboard which she promptly signed. Alex slammed the door in his face before he could say another word. She sunk down to the floor, back leaning against the wall.

“What is it?” Maggie asked from the bed. Alex ripped open the envelope and pulled out three Hamilton tickets. She looked at them puzzled and held them in the air for the other two women to see.

“How? Why?” was all that Alex could utter. If maybe the world stopped spinning so fast, she could make sense of it. The world didn’t do her this favour.

“I think I remember you bragging about knowing a guy who could get us into Hamilton and then calling him and scaring the living shit out of him,” commented Sara from the couch. She had sat up in the meantime. Her blond hair hung wild around her greenish coloured face.

“I think you also called J’onn and convinced him to give you the DEO jet for today to fly us to New York,” Maggie contributed. By now she had realised that she was topless and had had the decency to cover herself with a blanket. Sitting didn’t work out for her yet and she had to settle for being perched on her elbows to look at Alex on the floor.

“How did I convince J’onn?” Alex asked. She could barely remember anything.

“You flooded his mind with images of you and your girlfriend doing the nasty. He gave up within the first ten seconds,” Sara said and snorted. Meanwhile, Alex groaned loudly in embarrassment and burrowed her face in her hands.

“One problem at a time, babe,” Maggie said. “There’s one problem way more imminent than J’onn. How are we gonna make it to New York and the theatre in this state?” She gestured vaguely to Sara who has had to lie down again, hand draped over her eyes, because the light was just too bright.

They managed in the end. A lot of seltzer water, bananas and a weird potion Sara still had from her days in Nanda Parbat later, they felt well enough fly out to New York City. They slept during the whole flight and were almost themselves again when they finally piled into a cab.

They sang their version of “The Schuyler Sisters” for the whole ride and Maggie could have sworn to have heard the taxi driver mutter something about crazy musical nerds under his breath.

They were let out right in front of the theatre. Just as Sara climbed out, someone hurrying down the street bumped into her. On every other day, she might have called the man out, but all she did was saying in a sing-song-y voice, “There’s nothing like summer in the city, someone in a rush next to someone looking pretty”, accompanied with a well-trained hair flip and a shit eating grin. The other two women broke out into hysterical laughter.

As it turned out, Alex’s source didn’t just organise them tickets, but they were also for the centre of the second row.

“Damn, Danvers,” Maggie said in astonishment, “your contact is good.”

They were just on time and less than five minutes later, the show started. None of the three could contain themselves long and soon they were all semi-loudly singing along. An elderly lady in the front row kept turning to shush them, but neither the detective nor the secret agent or the trained assassin let themselves be intimidated.

Three hours later they stepped back out of the theatre, eyes puffy from crying, but big grins on their faces.

“Did you guys see? Lin-Manuel looked right at me!” Maggie exclaimed for the umpteenth time and Alex slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek.

“I’m glad you had fun, babe,” Alex smiled and Maggie promptly cuddled closer into Alex’s side.

“You two are gross!” Sara laughed and respectably slung her arm around Alex’s shoulders. Arm in arm the three of them made their way down the street, head and heart light from happiness.

And as if they had choreographed it, they all simultaneously broke into song.

“Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you. Raise a glass to the four of us, tomorrow there’ll be more of us, telling the story of tonight. Let’s have another round tonight!”

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11234952/chapters/25207656

[dat-town]

Under the same stars || chapter 1

Characters: Park Jimin & OC (Xu Xianni)

Setting: Winter Olympics, figure skater!Jimin AU

Genre: 90% fluff 10% angst

Summary: A story about Olympics, first love and rules that are meant to be broken.

Words: 5802

Chapters: 1, 2 , 3 (the end)

Alternatively titled: Kiss and cry. (exp.) The area in an ice rink where figure skaters wait for their marks to be announced after their performances during a competition.

I blame Jimin’s end of year dance stages for this mess. I don’t have any first-hand experience about figure skating so if I claimed any uncorrect detail about the sport, please feel free to let me know.

The story is set in 2018 during the Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang, Korea.

The rules

 My mother told me three rules I should never forget:

Number One. Everyone who steps on the ice rink is your enemy. Don’t trust them.

Number Two. Everything in the Olympic Village is a temporary illusion. Don’t hope to bring home other than a medal.

And last but not least, Number Three. When you fall, no matter how much it hurts, get up and forget it ever happened.

I might be a bad girl for not listening but I happen to broke them one by one and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I proudly claim that I have no regrets even though mother was right: falling in love indeed can influence careers.

 Breaking rule no.1

Day 0 - 9th February

 “I still can’t believe we’re here,” I let out a sigh in awe as I look out of the hotel room’s window.  It grants me a magnetic view of the Pyeongchang mountains covered by pearl white, fresh snow. The peaks and downhills under the azure blue sky look like sweet meringues freshly out of the oven. It resembles to heaven in my mind with all the tiny houses and sparkling lights below. So much prettier than on the poster.

“You better believe it. Hurry up with unpacking, The opening ceremony starts in two hour,” my coach’s strict voice rings in my head just like those times when I mess up practice and she scolds me for not paying attention. Usually I lift my chin high and try harder but we’re not in the ice rink now. We’re in a room on the 4th floor in the Olympic Village at my very first Winter Games.

“I know. I’ll take a shower and change. I can finish unpacking after it. I have plenty of time,” I try to reason and give an explanation about my calm state.

The woman at the edge of my made bed is a little shorter than me and unlike me she’s already wearing an appropriate clothing for tonight: a business costume. It’s so different from her usual casual training clothes that it makes her look older. Her cheeks are rosy and her hair is a little messy from the chilly wind we came across on our way here from the airport.

“I have to leave to the coaches and staff’s accommodation and you’ll be on your own,” she warns with a frown on her face and stares at me with her famous piercing look. It makes me feel belittled because it implies to that I can’t take care of my own luggage despite the fact I have been travelling around the world because of competitions since I was thirteen.

“I know. I can handle it.” This time a shudder sigh leaves my mouth but my voice never wavers. “I’m not a kid anymore, mom.”

As I emphasize the last world, the woman before me tenses. Sometimes I wonder how she sees herself. Is she my mother first or my coach? When she decides what the best is for me, is she thinking about me as her daughter or just her most potential student who can make it big?

“But you are,” mom sticks to her own opinion and brush aside my weak protest with a last pat on my suitcase. “I have to go so we’ll meet in the lobby before the take-off to the opening ceremony, okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble a little discouraged and let her press a kiss to my cheek. I try not to pout as I wave her off because I know she only wants to protect me but I still can’t shake off this uneasy feeling that she’s overdoing it.  There must be so much more to this world than she lets me see.

I cast a last glance to the wonderful scenery then do as I promised. I take a quick, cold shower and put on the common athlete training clothes with my surname and my county’s name on it. I always wear it proudly and it makes me feel like I have a whole nation supporting me. It’s a feeling beyond expression just like the heavy weight of gold around your neck. I just wish I could experience the weight of an Olympic medal no matter the colour.

The opening ceremony is grandiose and splendid; South Korea really does it justice and doesn’t stir disappointment. There are all kind of performers on a big scale, even kpop stars and traditional sword dancers. I enjoy the whole thing but for me, the most heartfelt moment is when all the athletes march in. I see a few familiar faces from other competitions and we greet each other but I have no idea about most of them.

 Day 1 - 10th February

As the fireworks paint the sky in rainbow colours, the clock ticks and the day turns. Everyone is cheering, the Olympic Flame is shining brightly in the dark night. The reality finally settles in my bones and veins: it really did start. When I leave the huge stadium alongside with a few other skaters, mom finds me at the lobby where we met before the ceremony. The bus ride back to the Olympic Village in Gangneung is quiet. It's already well past midnight when we arrive so her sudden request sounds a little absurd.

“No staying up late, no partying with others. I’ll wait for you at the ice rink tomorrow morning at seven.”

It takes a lot of my willpower not to whine. Of course, even though ladies competition is last in line, mother would never waste the opportunity to practice.

“Mom…”

“No buts, honey. Now I have to go, I meet one of the Russian coaches. Good night!” She pursues her lips and sends me a kiss before storming out of the lively hall. The Village buzzes with excitement. Nobody plans to sleep tonight. There are bars and clubs waiting for just us and lots of athletes want to loosen up a bit before their big day.

The girl from the skiing team whom I room with is also one of them because she's in the middle of preparing to going out when I arrive back to our place. We introduce ourselves in hurry but it looks like she doesn’t plan to waste any more time for formalities.

“Hey… you comin’?” Yanmei turns around at the door as she fixes some ribbon on her tight black dress. Her make up is smokey and wild, she’s definitely going to get a date tonight. Thinking about clubs, loud music, lots of frustrated young people and what I learned about them from American movies, I only hesitate for a moment before answering:

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Maybe I should listen to mother but we spend 350 days out of 365 practicing and today I just want to relax. It’s hard to lead a normal life, to graduate with good GPA and to have friends when you’re going after the gold. It’s impossible to ‘hang out’ when you’re at a training camp this week and at the Grand Prix the next. I gave up friends for this life. I even delay university for this. But I won’t deny myself a little fun. I’m not a robot; sometimes I need a break as well.

I quickly disconnect my phone from the charger to shove it into my jeans pocket. I have nothing party-worthy outfit (otherwise mom would have burnt it anyway) but these black jeans and platform heels make my legs seem longer and the baby pink blouse with pearls is pretty. I let my hair down so the golden locks swirling around me and I’m ready to go.

The club near our accommodation is quite nice. To be honest, I have never been at any place like this so my judgement can be mistaken but I find Wings okay. The place is full of athletes and Olympic staff members. The UV light paints the wide space and everybody fluorescent blue while the DJ is providing some mashup of famous songs that takes the party to the dancefloor. Almost as soon as Yanmei and I step inside, someone jumps on her. (Almost literally.)

“Do you wanna dance?” the tall, broad shouldered guy flashes a smile at my fellow citizen and he prolongs his broken English’s syllables probably because of the alcohol in his system. But that doesn’t stop Yanmei from saying yes and she’s trailing after the German snowboarder.

I sigh as I’m all alone once again and I try to manoeuvre my way towards the bar before any suspicious looking guy could hit on me. When I’m there I examine the supply of drinks and search for something without alcohol. It’s not like I can’t drink, I’m of age but I should be on ice in less than seven hours and I don’t intend to break my legs because of a clumsy slip.  I wait for my cocktail while casually sitting on one of those modern stools as I sway my legs like a child would. My fingers follow the rhythm of the loud music when suddenly I hear Korean chirping behind me followed by a warm hand planted on my shoulder. The sudden action makes my heart jump like a bad horror movie would and I turn around astonished. The pitch-black haired guy I’m facing seems even more surprised based on how quickly he jerks his hand away as if I had burnt him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I thought you’re someone else,” he switches to English quickly that makes me eternally grateful because my Korean knowledge is confined to surviving. I know nothing more than sorry, thank you and where can I find the toilette.

“It’s okay,” I reply with a warm smile. It happens, nothing to be sorry about. It could have been worse.

I expect the stranger to go away without another word but he stays still and eyes me curiously so I return his gaze. He dressed up casually in knee-ripped jeans and a big white sweater that seems baby blue under the artificial light. He has stylish coal black hair hinted with glowing sparks because of the neon white disco lamp. His faintly reddened face seems familiar yet I’m sure we’ve never met before. Maybe the same realization keeps him here only a foot away from me.

“You came here alone?” The guy furrows his eyebrows and it sounds more curious than suggestive so I don’t mind answering.

“No. With my roommate but she left with a guy,” I shrug lightly. I was well aware why she came so it didn’t take me by surprise when she vanished into the crowd and since I don’t really know her, I can’t be mad either.

“So cruel,” the obviously Korean guy pouts and it’s kind of cute which should be weird for someone as handsome as him. But no, he gives off the typical, approachable, kind boy-next-door vibes while he has a face of models and the glint in his eyes are ethereal as well. As if he wasn’t on the verge of heart attack and all flustered just a minute ago, he dares to act cocky by asking. “Mind if I keep you company then?”

Again, nothing suggestive, just a question. Nice and kind. Maybe I wouldn’t be so oppose of saying yes but I can’t help but find something fishy.

“Didn’t you look for someone?” I raise an eyebrow in question because his sudden appearance is suspicious. Or maybe I’m just paranoid because this is my first time in a place like this and all of my experiences are taken from books and movies.

“Nope, not really.” The guy shakes his head and gosh, his smile could make flowers grow and my heart skips a beat. Maybe I should consult with a doctor about sudden palpitations. “I’m Park Jimin by the way. Korean team. Figure skating men’s single as in the category. But I’m single too if you’re interested.”

His breathy laugh makes it sound like a joke. A lame one but I giggle anyway and try not to care about the heat that makes its way up on my face. Suddenly, I’m grateful for this luminescent light because I’m sure I could make a tomato jealous. Nonetheless, I cover it up with a counterattack.

“Do you always flirt like this?”

“Why? Is it working?” Jimin attempts to keep his serious macho behaviour with wiggling his eyebrows but fails and instead he shows a genuine, toothy smile.

“Sorry, I’m not like this usually. You’re just really cute and… I should shut up.”

“Yes, probably,” I chuckle as I downcast my eyes bashfully. I’m not used to compliments outside of the rink. It takes a few moments before I look up again but Jimin wait patiently with his outstretched arm. “I’m Xu Xianni from China. Figure skating women’s single”

I take his hand and smile at the gentle pressure of his fingers. Maybe I even let the feeling to linger a little more than it should.

“Thank god we’re not competing in pair category. That would have been awkward,” he says when he lets my hand go and it falls back to my side. His laughter is fairly nice, I have to admit. It sounds like a chime of bells, a melody that is soaring in the spring sky under rainbows or a beautiful flower that grows in the middle of winter and fights its way through the snow.

“Yeah,” I agree because his statement couldn’t be more right. If we were in a different category we could have been rivals and that would probably mean the end of our so far enjoyable conversation.

Jimin flashes a smile at me and orders a drink for himself, some cocktail which I’ve never heard of and then he casually asks about my day like we had known each other for years. We talk about my flight and that kid on the plane that just didn’t shut up. We praise the opening ceremony and Jimin makes a show of copying one of the kpop groups’ choreography. We compete to see who had been in more foreign country and we go on and on about our favourites. Jimin tells me about that time when he and his high school best friend, Taehyung ran around in a hotel after shower because of some game controller and got locked out of their room in nothing but their underwear.

I can’t even remember the last time I had so much fun like today with Jimin. However, everything comes to an end eventually and the sight of what time it is makes me slightly panicked. I’ve been here for almost three hours and I have to get up in less than the same amount of time. The funny thing is I’m not even tired because miraculously I didn’t have practice today and I had some sleep on the plane. Yet, I need a nap because mom will ask how I slept and I can’t lie to her in the eye or else she will know about it immediately. Mother censors and stuff.

“I should go,” I mumble in the momentary silence of our conversation, sorrow evident in my voice. Jimin’s reaction is immediately dumbfounded.

“So early?” he pouts with a sad puppy look on his face. He’s frank about his disappointment because I can’t stay longer and doesn’t try to hide it. It makes me giggle a little because it is early: half past three in the morning.

“Well, my coach wants me on ice by 7am so I have to,” I groan in mild annoyance and Jimin’s usually narrow eyes go wide at my statement.

“What? That’s ruthless. Isn’t female skating like a week away?” he asks in a struck and perplexed state.

“Yeah, but she wants me prepared,” I shrug because my mother’s methods are not even shock me anymore. Jimin nods understandingly and yawns.

“Today I think I’m gonna sleep in. Luckily, my coach is a pretty laidback guy. Such a shame he had to stop competing early. You may have heard about him. Taemin was kind of a big deal back then...”

“No way! Lee Taemin is your coach? He's a legend,” I squeal and my eyes lit up at the mentioned name. I can’t believe I just spend the last three hours talking to someone who is a student of Taemin. He must be good, but unfortunately nowadays I can only keep up with Chinese athletes and foreign female contestants.

Jimin hums in agreement but doesn’t say anything. When I stand up I suddenly don’t want to go. It would be so easy to stay and enjoy this cozy bubble of ours a little more without paying attention to the trap music and kissing pairs around us but I’m not the one who goes back on her word.

“Thank you for keeping me company. I’m glad we talked.” I can’t force back a sincere smile which he returns without missing a beat.

“Likewise. See you around,” he turns his body towards me and his arms are really inviting while I’m shifting my weight from one leg to the other and back because I’m not really sure what should I do. How girls do this? Should I hug him, shake his hand or just wave to him? Oh, I’m so damn pathetic when it comes to being social. Goodbyes are really not my thing.

“In case we don’t meet until then, good luck!” I decide on honest best wishes, finally ready to go.

“You too. But I sincerely hope we will meet,” he adds and I nod hesitantly, preparing to go. However, Jimin beats me to it as he envelops me in a hug that ends way too quick and smiles at me widely. I smile back and forget about being nervous.

As soon as my body touch the bed, I sleep like a baby.

 Day 3 - 12th February

Gangneung is a coastal town near the mountains and here will be held events like ice hockey, curling and skating. All contestants in these categories stay in this Olympic Village so I’m sure the Korean figure skaters are no exceptions. But with so many people around it’s easy to get lost in the crowd.

Despite my foolish hopes, we didn’t meet again that day. I guess he really did slept till late and yesterday we could have missed each other’s practice hours. However, since everyone trained in the Ice Arena, at least one meeting was inevitable. It was bound to happen eventually.

Yet, I was surprised to find him on the ice Monday morning. He just finished his routine to a music I don’t know and get off the rink gracefully. There’s another men beside him in a puffy coat who keeps talking to him while offering a towel and a bottle of water. Jimin shakes his head, black locks sticking to his forehead as he looks conflicted. It’s weird to see his recent carefree personality to change so serious.

“Who is he?” I point at him when nobody’s around and step closer to our team’s male figure skater because if anyone then he must know well who he is. Of course I could search his name on the Internet but that would be cheating and less exciting. Fortunately, Yan Han doesn’t seem bothered by my sudden question and just shrugs.

“He’s Park Jimin, South Korea’s sweetheart. He and Hanyu are the biggest rivals. They’re constantly breaking each other records since Sochi. That time, the Japanese won the gold but it was Jimin who claimed the world champion title. With them in the competition everyone else fights for the third place.”

Wow. That’s all I can think about. I still stand there mindlessly and speechless when Yan Han has to step onto the ice.

Today I arrived early (No way I did it in hope of seeing someone. Nope. Not at all) so my mom still hasn’t arrived yet. I make the most out of my free time by going over the choreo once again in my head meanwhile absolutely not stealing glances at the other end of the ice rink. That’s the only reason I notice the approaching steps of a certain someone. Alone with his coach watching him from afar.

“Hi there,” Jimin greets me with a warm smile as beautiful as sunrises.

“Hey, Mr. Champion.”

The new nickname I made up just now makes him laugh. I take a moment to scan him over in his training clothes under the natural light. He seems amused and even more handsome than the day before.

“I see you did your homework on me but to be honest that gold was only luck.”

“So humble,” I comment on his shyness because there’s no way someone becomes world champion because of purely luck. I can’t wait to see him in action.

“And what about you? They say you're China's Kim Yuna.”

“She's the queen,” I protest quickly just like every time they mention it. It’s an honour to hear my name in the same sentence with hers because I look up to her as a role model but her achievements outshine all of my attempts. “I’m not even close.”

“So humble,” he mimics my earlier response with a cheeky smile and run his fingers through his silky black hair.

“I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair in a bun,” he admits and drops down to sit on a bench behind the barrier. I copy his movements but I make sure not to sit too close. An arm-length should be a comfortable distance between friends, right?

“Well, I have to keep it in one place if I don’t want to bother with it while dancing,” I let out a chuckle and unconsciously touch my made-shift hair.

“It’s cute,” Jimin compliments with an easy-going smile and I feel my cheeks turn rosy pink again. But before I can mutter out an answer, someone interrupts us in Chinese:

“I hope you have already warmed up.”

“Mom!” I react instinctively in my native language as I lift my eyes up to see my parent standing in front of me with a strict look on her face. I get on my feet quickly and the boy beside me follows. “This is Park Jimin...”

“I don’t care who he is. You’re here to win gold and not to make friends, understand?” she’s preaching as always. But this time it’s quite rude to act like the other athlete wasn’t there and speak in a language that he can’t understand. “I want you on ice in five minutes. Hurry up!”

And with that she leaves as if nothing happened. While on the other hand, there’s me with poppy-coloured cheeks from anger and humiliation. How could she do that to me? How could she act like that to me in front of a friend?

“Sorry,” I mumble turning towards Jimin who has this sad look on just like last time when we had to say good bye. Sorry doesn’t cover what my mom did but I can’t do more and I still have to put on my skates before she comes back and grounds me for the rest of the Olympics. That would be unfortunate since that’s only my third day here.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry for causing trouble for you. I should have known your coach is quite strict. She seemed pretty angry. I didn’t mean to distract you or anything,” Jimin apologizes even though he shouldn’t be the one doing that. But the guilty look on his face is sincere and I don’t want anything more than reassure him that he didn’t do nothing wrong.

“It’s not your fault. She’s a perfectionist and basically spent her entire life to build my career. She has everything planned out for me and if something unexpected happens like me talking with you she freaks out a little bit,” I explain hastily because I don’t want any misunderstanding between us. Hence, I don’t really think through what I’m saying and it ends up sounding like a complain. For a second, I’d like to rephrase my words but sometimes my mother’s behaviour really makes me wonder. Am I only an investment? Am I living her dream? I never really felt pressure of doing what she told me but she made me feel ungrateful if I didn’t. Would it be the same? I don’t know; the result is the same anyway.

“You can tell your coach no if she’s overdoing it,” Jimin suggests lightly with concern evident in his fascinating onyx eyes. He takes a step closer and for a brief moment, I think he’s going to hug me or something and I have to catch my breath. In the end he turns and leans over the barrier with a sigh.

“It’s not that easy. She’s my mother,” I tell him a bit anxiously in case he didn’t figured that out already. From the way he looks up with bewilderment, he hasn’t thought about this possibility.

“Oh.”

“Oh exactly,” I nod while a lump is forming in my throat. Well, bye-bye my newfound friendship. I know acquaintances at competitions don’t last but my mother tends to ruin all of my chances of a normal life. I doubt that Jimin would like anything from me after this. “Sorry, I have to go now.”

Unless I want to anger my mother even more.

“Me, too. See you later,” the Korean boy bids his goodbye when he hears his name called and jogs off to somewhere I can’t see him anymore.

It’s better this way. No more distraction. No more heart fluttering eye smile. I can focus on winning the gold.

 The practice goes well even though my mother is harsher than usually. I guess she’s still mad about what happened earlier. I just don’t get why. It’s not like I did anything wrong. Is it so bad that I talked with another country’s contestant? But that’s the whole point of the Olympic Games, doesn’t it? To enjoy sport in a spirit of friendship, solidarity and fair play. Sad that people usually forget this.

“It was good.” mom pats my back as I get off the ice. She immediately starts the review as I massage my sore ankle. “Although your candlestick spiral can’t be this sloppy, the doughnut spin needs to be more graceful and don’t forget that we changed that last double axel to a triple.”

How can I forget? As far as I know only seven or so female skaters involved triple axel in their program on competition so far. I can’t blame mom for wanting me to be the eighth. I’d be proud if I could make it perfectly. It happened before and I spent a lot of time trying to improve but still, one out of four times I fail.

“My step sequence and Biellmann spin were good? What about the jumps?” I ask and try to curve everything into my memory to get everything right next time. I love reviewing with my mother because she’s really good at her job. No wonder why I won the Chinese junior nationals when I was 9 years old.

We spend half an hour monitoring the video she just took to point out every possible problem and everything’s fine until she calls it a day. As soon as I start to walk off to take a cold shower, she has to make a remark:

“I don’t like seeing you getting involved with that boy.”

It gets on your nerves really fast because Jimin didn’t do anything to deserve this negative attitude.

“What boy, mom? You scared him off, too. Are you happy?” I huff through clenched teeth and walk out of the room before she can muster another word. I need to cool down.

 After a nutritious lunch, a run-through dance lesson with my choreographer and two interviews, I can finally enjoy freedom. After changing into comfy clothes, I decide to visit some souvenir shops downstairs. Even though I still hold grudges against mom, I send her a message informing her about my whereabouts so she won’t worry about me. Amidst the Pyeongchang 2018 printed T-shirts, mugs and refrigerator magnets Park Jimin is the last person I’d expect to see.

“Xianni? Hi!” he’s waving at me with a beaming smile like nothing bad ever happened. It helps me forget, too.

“Hi, yourself. Did you find anything to buy?” I step closer in order to make way for a passing customer. This shop is a quite small but it looked so cute from the outside I had to come in. Its unique charm seems to successfully draw Jimin in, too.

“Yeah. This is for my little brother,” he proudly holds up a big sweater with the mascots on the front. From the size of it, his siblings can’t be a lot younger than him but that endearing smile of his shows how much he cares for him. “And you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll buy a pair of earrings,” my bottom lip quivers because I’m a little jealous. I have nobody to buy for. Dad no longer lives with us, I only meet him a few times a year and mom is with me here, why should I buy for her? I have no friends who cheer for me. It’s kind of sad and the realization hits me like bullet train. Maybe my expression falters, I don’t know but Jimin drop his smile and change the subject in a serious tone.

“Are you free the rest of the evening?”

“ Yes. Why?” It should be embarrassing how quickly I answer. In a heartbeat as if I was afraid he would change his mind. Also, I might be imagining things but maybe there was hope in his voice. Or was it in mine?

“I’ll go to the city and look around with a few friends,” he starts carefully dragging out the syllables but I can’t help but interrupt.

“Don’t you have the short round tomorrow?” I narrow my eyes in suspicion. I know he said his coach is pretty laidback but shouldn’t he rest?

“In the evening, yes. But I have been preparing for this for months now. My performance won’t depend on my last minute rituals.”  Jimin shrugs wisely choosing his words. “So about the sightseeing… Would you like to join us?”

I know for sure mom wouldn’t approve but who cares? I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions and suffer the consequences. She didn’t get to know about the opening party either and I had fun there. Nothing can go wrong.

“You know what? I’d love to.”

Jimin’s smile grows wider. There are crinkles around his sparkling eyes and the apples of his cheeks are close to exploding.

 We agreed on meeting in 10 minutes at the front gate so he can call the others and I can grab my camera. My roommate is currently doing some fitness so I also invite her but she refuses to hang out with Koreans. I have no idea what’s her problem with them but to be honest I can’t find myself regretting that she won’t come. I call the elevator in hurry and I feel anxious all of a sudden meeting with Jimin’s friends. In the end it turns out that there’s no reason for me to be nervous. All of them are nice.

“Guys this is Xianni I told you about.” Jimin presents me and two guys in the back exchange a knowing look. They’re at the same height, both a few inches taller than Jimin who’s so into introducing doesn’t notice this. “They are Seokjin from the curling team and Hoseok who’s competing in speed skating. I guess you know Chanmi, she’s our female figure skater after Yuna. And last but not least, there’s Jungkookie, the hockey team’s star. Don’t mind him. He’s a little shy around ladies”

“I am not,” the said boy crunches his nose in offended.

“If you say so,” Jimin shrugs teasingly.

“I’m glad to meet you all,” I smile at them happiness bubbling inside me because of how direct and open-minded they are. They don’t make me feel like an outsider at all.

“The pleasure is all ours,” the tall guy called Seokjin bows like a gentleman and Hoseok shoves him away in a friendly manner as laughing cracks them up.

“Yah, stop flirting!” he says with his cute broken English and we’re finally ready to go. Rather as a group of giggling youngsters than Olympic athletes.

We take the bus to the beach while talking in a weird mix of English, Korean and occasionally Chinese because the oldest of the group knows a bit of my language. We find a good seafood restaurant there and stop for dinner. Because of my diet, I only eat salad with salmon while the boys except Jimin are having a feast with various types of food. I notice that the figure skater boy barely eats something but I blame it on his nerves. Tomorrow is the competition and even if he doesn't admit it he can’t be entirely calm. But he has to eat if he doesn’t want to faint on ice tomorrow so when it comes to desserts I ask him to share a slice of cheesecake with me. He says yes gladly.

Later, we wonder around near the sea, searching shells in the sand using our phones as torches. Darkness has already settled and gazillions of tiny white dots decorate the textile of night. We come upon the town’s museum and pay it a visit. It’s very interesting to me because I know so little about Korean history and because normally I don't have enough time to go to places like this. While leaving we meet a few citizens who recommend the night market by the port for us. We discover lots of goods there, I buy a pair of leather gloves and Jimin keeps feeding me famous Korean street food such as Goldfish bread that is a fish shaped patisserie filled with red bean pasta and tornado potato which is basically seasoned roasted slices of potatoes.

“Do you trust me?” he asks me after he buys some weird looking brown sauce with breaded fish on a stick and offers me a bite.

“Yes.”

I'm a little startled by his intense gaze when he holds it to me but I do trust in him nonetheless. I know we don’t know each other for long and everything will end in three weeks. Despite everything, I can't help but feel this connection between us. We just click somehow. I have never felt this way before with anyone.

The fish cake with black bean pasta sauce turns out to be heavenly.

[popofventi]

Grind #110 :: Good Vibes, Be Kind, Laugh And Cry

I felt I needed a little sunshine today. Winter decided she wasn't quite finished with us in my part of the world. Coffee, good news stories and not stepping a foot outside my house when it's below forty. My trifecta for dealing with the cold as my blood thins out and I get "old-er-ish". Grab a mug. Grab the Kleenex. Bundle up. Let's Grind.

Every morning, my son asks me to give him a new trivia fact. I failed him yesterday. Not today. Five of these are true*. One...hmmm...maybe not so much.

The offspring of a polar bear and a grizzly bear is called a "pizzly bear".

Most adult cats are lactose intolerant.

Wearing jeans is illegal in North Korea.

Policemen in Grenada wear their Twitter handle on their uniform.

Nostophobia is the fear of going home.

Ostriches put their heads in the ground because they have low self-esteem & are threatened by eye contact.

"On Friday night, after four years of CYO basketball together, the nine boys and two girls on the St. John's 5th grade team had to make a decision: Play without the girls or give up the rest of the season." The phrase "kids will be kids" often gets a bad rap. This is the story of what happened when these kids voted to forfeit their season.

If I could have any job, it might be Steve Hartman's cameraman:

Where does the USA rank on this list of The 14 countries that are the most optimistic about the future. I'll give you a hint...it's NOT #1.

A group of German students started a little organization to "create more humanity through good deeds in our daily lives." They named themselves after the first initials of the four founders names (J.A.P.Y.) but in German, "Japy“ sounds a lot like  "happy“… thus "Be Japy!“  Here's their full mission statement followed by a video of their work in action:

WE We are a community that creates more humanity through good deeds in our daily lives. With global networking, we inspire each other, and create a WE that activates and motivates itself. MAKE Through small acts in daily life we not only make people happy but also create a positive experience, surprises and more humanity. We do not just talk about it, we do it! In short: We spread Japyness. PEOPLE It doesn’t matter where you come from, how old you are or what religion you belong to. Our actions focus on the people. You can take part in it with very simple means and become part of our community. HAPPY A good deed not only makes the helped person happy but also the person who is helping. Doing good makes happy. No single person can make our world a better place in just one day. But the sum of many individual acts has the power to set the wheels in motion. Let’s ensure more humanity together!

BE JAPY . ORG

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."

~ Socrates

It was a little thing that meant so much to her. She thought it was lost forever. Until it wasn't.

"10 Things You Can Do When You Think Life Sucks"

Debbie Bolton. She's not an Avenger. She's not Tom Brady or LeBron James. Or a supermodel. But she did this which makes her a hero to me.

Ellen gives her single biggest gift to date:

Dani over at Positively Present has some great step-by-step advice on how to declutter and get organized just in time for spring.

Speaking of spring, baseball baby! Who doesn't love a good prank. In this video, Chicago Cubs All-Star Kris Bryant gets tricked by Hall of Fame Pitcher Greg Maddux:

More good news, CBS' The Amazing Race returns March 30th and the show's 29th season features a cast like no other in its long history.

Amazon is expanding its beer and wine buying options because putting on pants to go to the liquor store is too much work.

 Could there be better news than this? Flying cars could be a reality in seven to ten years:

Flying cars would be really cool in the near future, but sadly, in the immediate future it looks like station wagons are making a big comeback.

"Station wagon" seems like it should be a "retronym". Jawn, Lickspittle, Retronym, Sesquipedalian and a few other weird and wonderful words you should work into your vocabulary.

...The Last Drop

You've probably cried a little at some point during this post. Now, let the cast of The Office balance things out with some laughs.

[*Actually, ostriches rarely put their head in the ground, but when they do it's not because they're shy; it's because they're looking for water under the ground.]

Grind #110 :: Good Vibes, Be Kind, Laugh And Cry ~ Fin.

-xxx-