#scott is typically off doing his own thing. I only get sad when I think about dialogue thats not even included in his pov

[mcybree]

this scott 3l rewatch it so so strange. i was right with my original notes, their relationship does not read nearly as scary from the scott pov and im really wondering why this is. My first theory was that it was an editing style thing or a background music thing or maybe the specific scenes that are missing but now that I’m really thinking about it I Dont Know

[rachaelswrites]

Nicknames

A/N: I didn’t include all actors/characters but if you want one just send it in and I’ll do it. I’ll start including these in my writing

~~~~~~

Here are some nicknames that each of the reader’s have been given

Sebastian Stan “prinţesă”

-Obviously, its Romanian

-There were a few he tried out with you when you were younger but this one stuck for multiple reasons:

-You were a major daddy’s girl (still are) and you pretty much got anything you wanted. You were almost on the verge of spoiled brat

-It also didn’t help that you had a very huge liking for Disney and it’s princesses

-Those dresses with the matching shoes? You had almost all of them

-He called you that until you grew out of your princess obsession, saving it for certain times

-The first time you ended a long term friendship was the first time he used it in years. He’d either call you by your name or something more generic like “Sweetheart”

-You came home visibly upset and ran right into your dad’s arms

-You’d never been this upset before so he said it, hoping in some way it would calm you down

“It’s alright Prinţesă, I’ve got you”

-When it worked that time, he did it again after your first break up.

-You were more angry than sad this time

-He had to hold you down on the couch so you couldn’t hurt anyone

“Prinţesă, calm down. He’s not worth a criminal record

-He used it on days when you were sick or were feeling down

-Maybe even if you were in trouble

-You and him both thought by the age of sixteen, you would hate the nickname but surprisingly, you liked it even more

Chris Evans “peanut”

-Another case of daddy’s girl

-This one comes from several trips to Red Sox’s games

-Chris wanted to get you into sports when you were young (just to watch, not necessarily to play)

-He took you and Scott to one of the first games of the season and he bought peanuts, in his true American way

-You were seated in between him and Scott

-Both of them were sharing the bag while you had ice cream

-Peanuts were a new food for you and you wanted to try them. You grabbed a handful of them and copied your dad’s movements to crack open the shells

-You ate like twenty in less than a minute

-You loved them so much and that’s how that name happened

-Unlike the others, Chris uses this name pretty regularly 

-You didn’t mind how often he used it until he started using it on front of your friends

“Hey peanut, do you guys need anything?”

“Dad! That’s embarrassing”

-Your face went bright red and for the rest of the day, your friends teased you (in a loving, joking way)

-Chris realized his small mistake and was a little more careful about when he used it

-Scott called you it once and you swear, you never saw your dad move so quickly

“She’s my peanut, not yours. Find your own nickname”

-Anytime he posts a picture of you on Twitter/Instagram, he used that name instead of your own

Matthew Gray Gubler “munchkin”

-Three words

-Wizard. Of. Oz.

-You had a very weird obsession with this movie. It’s almost embarrassing looking back at it now

-By the time you were three, you knew all the words (as best as you could) to all the songs

-Matthew was about to lose his mind because he had the songs in his head as well, twenty-four-seven.

-You would talk and talk about how much you wanted to go to Munchkin land and be a Munchkin

-It also didn’t help that at the time, you were probably close to the same height

-Sadly, as you got older, you and your dad learned you didn’t develop his height

-You were a whopping 5’2 at the age of fifteen

-And the name stuck

-He knew you weren’t super fond of the name but somehow, it always cheered you up

-If you had a tough day at school, he’d sit on the couch and let you vent

“Let it all out Munchkin”

-You secretly did like the name (even though the origins were embarrassing)

-Matthew never let you live down that obsession 

-When you were on set and he called you that, everyone asked why.

“Matthew, why do you call her Munchkin?”

“Dad, don’t do it”

“She was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz”

-He also very rarely referred to you as “Y/n” on social media, opting for Munchkin instead

-Trying to get back at him, you tried to come up with some ridiculous name for him

“I’m going to call you dancer. Cause that’s how you broke your knee”

-That one didn’t last long but Munchkin sure did

Tom Holland “bubs or darling”

-Tom gets two because I can’t pick

-Bubs is because you are the baby out of all of the brothers

-It was also because before you could say any brother’s name, you just called them bubs

-Sam, Harry, and Paddy also called you Bubs. They still call you that sometimes so Tom wanted to try something new

-When you were about five or six, he accidentally called you darling

-It wasn’t a typical brother/sister name but it suited you

-You were such a kind person and your favorite movie to watch with Tom was Peter Pan

-And the last name of Wendy was Darling, so he thought it fitted

-When he called you darling, it was mostly after he came home from filming

“I missed you so much Darling”

-You liked the meaning behind your nickname

-Tom used Bubs if you weren’t feeling like yourself

-Whether it was a bad day or if you were sick

“Take some medicine Bubs” or “Bubs, tell me what’s going on”

-He hated the others calling him Tommy but for you, he’d let you do it anytime you wanted

-Literally, you were the only person he let you call him Tommy

-But he was the only person who could call you Darling

Bucky Barnes “doll”

-Classic

-This one is pretty self explanatory

-It was common during your childhood but once you were in the 21st century, Bucky couldn’t part with it

-It reminded him of the past (in a good way) and he always wanted to relive those memories 

-You were eight when HYDRA took him and then you

-The name reminded him of when you were little, and it reminded you too

-While Bucky was in Wakanda, he’d send you letters once he woke up

“Hey Doll, I miss you so much. Hopefully we can see each other soon”

-You kept them all with you

-And when The Snap happened, you’d read those letters back to yourself everyday

“The sunset was really pretty today Doll, it reminded me of the ones from when you were little”

-After those five years, that was the first thing he said to you

“I’m glad you’re safe Doll”

-It only took one time for Sam to tease you about it before you threatened to hurt him

“You make fun of it one more time and I swear it’ll be the last”

-Sam didn’t really understand why that name meant so much to you

-Bucky had to explain it to him

-It was really one of the only things you had left of your childhood

-And it was the one thing you could hold onto for the rest of your life

Ransom Drysdale “princess”

-Again, I think this one is self explanatory and obvious

-You’re spoiled, no doubt about it

-The name actually came from Meg

-She was a few years older than you and she was so used to being the only girl in the family

-And now she had to deal with you

-The reason she called you that was pretty stupid in the first place but as an eight year old, it didn’t matter to her

-You had spilled your drink on her by accident and onto her new shoes

-She went red in the face and started screaming in your face. You burst into tears

-You were only four and Ransom had never raised his voice at you. It was a new experience for you

-All the adults came into the room and walked into the scene of Meg screaming and you crying

-Ransom scooped you up and told Meg off

-Of course Joni took her daughter’s side but no one else did, making her mad

“She never gets in trouble. She’s such a princess”

-After that incident, your dad only used that name just to piss everyone off

-Like there was no need for him to but he just did it

“Princess, come here”

-In general, Ransom liked to show you off and the nickname Princess was the best way to do that

-As you got older, he felt weird using it. Meg had finally gotten over herself and everyone accepted the fact that your dad was spoiling you rotten

-You didn’t need a name to show that

-But as you got older, the issues in the family and all the problems started to weigh down on you

-There was so much drama that happened at family dinners, you were completely drained and exhausted once you got home

-Ransom could tell something was up so he reached into his bag of good parenting skills (which he definitely had, which shocked everyone) and called you Princess for the first time in ten years

“Princess, please tell me what’s wrong”

-For some reason, that one name made everything better for you

-Ransom noticed the small improvement in your mood so he kept calling you that on the daily

“How was school today Princess?” 

-And in front of the family again

“Princess, it’s time to go”

-This name was literally just used to show the other Thrombey’s that you and your dad were better than them

-Of course though, you didn’t need a nickname to see that

Spencer Reid “squirt”

-Another name based on an obsession

-But this one can be blamed on Garcia

-While Spencer was on a case one time, she was in charge of watching you

-To keep you entertained while at the BAU, she put on Finding Nemo

-That was a mistake

-From that point on, you had a weird fascination with sea turtles, because of Squirt

-Once Spencer got back, you would not shut up about turtles

“Daddy, look what I just read”

-He was glad you found something you were interested in. He sort of hoped you would find something closer to a more “normal” topic but he would never stop you from learning

-Spencer wasn’t sure how the name fell onto you but once it did, he didn’t stop using it

-He generally used it in the apartment with just you and him

“Squirt, can you pick your toys up for me?” or as you were older “Squirt, can you grab those books for me?”

-He used it a lot when you felt stressed and you weren’t telling him

-So whenever he called you that, you knew you might as well tell him

“Tell me what’s going on Squirt”

-It was such a small gesture but it really did help you

-He tried to explain why it probably made you feel better but you weren’t too interested in the science behind it

-The only time he used it in front of the team is when he got back from a case

-You always met him at the BAU (he made sure you were there to greet him)

-You would stand in front of the elevator and wait for the doors to open

-And when they did, you ran into his arms and he wrapped them around your body

“I missed you Squirt”

-The team absolutely adored that nickname but knew to never call you that, unless they wanted an angry Reid on their hands

Emily Prentiss “love”

-To me, Emily just has European vibes and so does this nickname

-Probably because Emily grew up in Europe, she developed this habit of calling you Love

-The parents of her friends growing up used that name

-She sort of just picked up on it, starting when she first held you in the hospital

“Hi Love, I’m your momma”

-It’s such a simple but meaningful name to her

-You were truly the one person she loved the most (even her mom and even Sergio)

-Speaking of, once she brought Sergio home you started calling him that as well

-You were only four and didn’t understand the concept but Emily didn’t stop you

“Hi Wove”

-Emily never used this in front of people unless something was wrong

-As you got older, it was used more as a reassurance for you

-Her “death” was really hard on you and every case, she would check in 

-Lots of the time, the phone calls were short and around the other members of the team

“Hi Love, I miss you. The team says hi”

“I miss you too momma”

-Very rarely would she use it in normal, everyday conversation

-If you were visiting the office, sometimes it would slip out

“Hey Love, are you doing your homework?”

-In front of the team, she used names like “baby” or “honey”

-Love was strictly reserved for just you and her

Jennifer Jareau “bug”

-First thing to know

-If anyone besides JJ called you Bug, even Will, she would literally rip their heads off

-This name was super personal to her and she didn’t want the meaning to be ruined

-You had taken after her love and fascination with butterflies

-Except you hadn’t learned the word butterfly so you just called them bugs, hence the nickname

-JJ only called you two things “Y/n” and “Bug”

-Nothing else

-At one point, Will was convinced that she might’ve forgotten your first name because she called you Bug so much

“JJ, she has a first name you know”

“I know, I think Bug fits her better”

-She did attempt to get your name changed, but to be fair, she was drunk when that happened

-She didn’t care that as you got older, the name was a little embarrassing, especially around your friends

“I’ll pick you up at seven Bug”

“Mom! Really? In front of my friends?”

-Your brothers for awhile thought your name was Bug, because she really only called you that at home

“Do you need help with your homework Bug?” or “Bug, can you set the table?”

-You didn’t realize the meaning behind the nickname until she explained it to you

-And once you did, the name meant so much more to you

-Will helped you pick out a matching necklace set of two butterflies

-You gave it to her after a case and she cried, knowing exactly what it’s meaning was

“Thank you Bug, I love it”

-She never took that necklace off, ever

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998 @multifamdomfan12 @aquariuslavenderhoney @rafehogwarts

[anbudrky2021]

The 𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢 Sound of 𝒯𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 │ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟

Smut warning. Please click here for series description and TWs. 💕

Ch 4: Projecting

“Thor?” I was confused why he is was there.

“Who made you cry, y/n??” He asked again.

“Nobody,” I lied.

“You can’t tell me a lie without me noticing.” Thor stood, patiently waiting. “Was it Buck?” he had a look of concern, but not anger or malice toward Bucky, which surprised me. When I had come back from Wakanda and told him what had happened, he was so angry. I had never seen Thor so...enraged. So to see him calm was...weird.

“Just leave it alone. Please.” I softly spoke, hoping he would listen.

“I will leave it alone. You are not my responsibility. But please...” he looked genuinely into my eyes, “please let me know if I need to squash him.” He smirked for a moment.

“What are you doing here?” My last tear had dried up and I was now breathing like normal.

“Tony sent me. And Peter.” His eyes rolled slightly. “As much as this...man of spiders bothers me...he does care for you. And I can respect that. Also Tony wanted me to do some recon.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

”Recon? On what?” I whispered now, urging him to do the same. “Not King T’Ch-” he cut me off with a hearty laugh.

“No!!” He boomed. “Not T’Challa. He’s great. Tony trust that Black Leopard. Cheetah. No, that’s not it...Cougar. Capybara.” He looked up at the ceiling quizzically.

“Wow, Thor that’s not even a cat...” I laughed out loud. “Panther, hon. It’s black panther. And if you aren’t...spying on him who-”

“That’s why I was actually hoping on running into you...it’s Bucky. Tony wants to make sure he’s ready to come to the-”

“No. He’s not. He’s not coming back with us. He’s not ready. There. Now go home and tell Tony I already did the recon.” I started walking past Thor but he grabbed my arm lightly.

“This is why he sent me..the four of you are biased. He’s Steve’s best friend. Wanda is your best friend. You...have a history. And Nat, well she’s great but we didn’t want to make her be a double-agent. Not again...” he sighed. “So here I am.”

“Tony didn’t think you’d be biased in my favor? Or against it?” I retorted.

“Nah. He knows I can separate a mission from a woman. I do still care for you, y/n.” He paused for a moment. “I really do...I know it’s hard for you to be here with him around. Don’t forget to ask for help when you need it. You’re almost as stubborn as an asguardian woman and that is a feat.”

We both laughed. He’d told me that many times. He always said that was one of the reasons he liked me so much. I had reminded him of the head-strong women from his Home, in which he respected and loved so much.

We parted ways after saying goodbye. I was confused now. Thor made me feel so comfortable. So cared for. But so did Peter. I had destroyed my chances with Thor..but not Peter. Not yet. But being here with Bucky made my heart wrench out of my chest. I felt dirty. Like I had been a cleat chaser for a baseball team or something. Which is fine. I have done my share of sleeping around. But this group...this team I am a part of...it feels wrong sometimes. Nat hasn’t slept with any of them. Wanda only has eyes for Vis. Hope and Scott are basically married. I mean...I just...

“You’re projecting!!” Thor yelled from down the hallway.

“Jesus...” I whispered, now jogging away. How much had I projected?! And to whom?!

My mind started to dizzy. My fingers and toes felt like they were buzzing. My heart raced and my breathing was completely irregular. I propped myself up against the wall and slid down slowly. I took deep breaths, tried to think of something to distract me but my head was spinning.

“Y/n?” Nat’s voice was like music. She helped me up and walked me to my room. By the time we got there, I felt like I could at least stand. “Nat I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

She looked around the room. “What happened here?” She asked, pointing at the broken vase I had thrown at Bucky earlier. I didn’t even know what it was until now. Guilt sprang through me. T’Challa was so kind to let us stay here. And I broke his vase.

“Hey, you know you’re projecting right?” She asked, looking alarmed.

“Oh...no. I didn’t know that. That just happened with Thor, too...”

“Thor is here?” Now she was more alarmed.

“I Guess he hasn’t made that known yet...” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I think we need to see Shuri sooner than later, friend..” Nat motioned toward the door. I followed obediently. I was scared to think anything now. Not that I didn’t trust Natasha, but I didn’t know when or why I was projecting...

We reached the familiar medical and science bay, knocking quickly on the door. “Shuri!!!” Nat yelled through the door. “Hey we’re coming in!”

Natasha opened the door and saw Shuri speaking with T’Challa.

“My friends, welcome,” He gestured toward a seating area.

“This is my laboratory. I get to say welcome!!” Shuri almost whined. They both laughed. Their relationship is so sweet. It makes me want a brother. I would kind of have some if I would just keep it in my pants. I rolled my eyes at myself and then realized everyone was staring at me.

“Hey” Shuri said, chipper, trying to lighten the mood as always, “my bro can be yours, too! He’s taken. So he won‘t be trying any of that pants stuff!” She laughed. Everyone else looked horrified by the whole situation.

“So I assume I projected that thought as well, then...” I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. How about now? Can someone let me know if you’re hearing this? I thought, trying to purposefully project.

Nobody spoke. I sighed.

“So when I try to project, it hasn’t been working and apparently now when I am not, I’m just doing it?” I asked, and stated. I didn’t know.

Shuri nodded. “Did you just try?”

“Yes...”

“Then yeah...that’s what happening. But why?” She asked herself. She waved me and Nat over to follow her. “See you later, brother.” She kissed his cheek and he left.

“How long have I been doing this?” I asked, somewhat to myself but also to Natasha.

“Well, to be honest, on and off for a while. We just all thought you were...” she bit her lip. “remember when you were drunk and-”

“Yes, what about it?” I was exhausted now.

“We thought maybe you had a drinking problem you were hiding...after you and Thor ended things. And that’s why you were randomly projecting. But then Peter said during a meeting-”

“What meeting?” I asked, kind of hurt.

“We had a meeting...a few weeks after you and Pete started...anyway, um. In the meeting, nobody knew at that time that you had been seeing Peter. But he spoke up for you. He said you’d been spending time together-he said it was because he noticed you were sad-and that you hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. So then we all decided that something was up. We stopped sending you on bigger missions...” her tears pricked. “That’s when Steve talked to Bucky and Bucky talked to Shuri. And now we’re here...”

Tears escaped her eyes. Why is she crying? Nat doesn’t cry...

“Because Natasha cares about you. We all do, Y/N. And this isn’t normal for someone with you powers.” Shuri answered my projection.

I took a deep breath. “Ok, so now what?” I asked, concerned.

“Testing. Experimental activities. Anything to figure out what’s going on.” She patted the lab bed and Handed me some electromagnetic stickers with wires attached. “Head and heart please.” She motioned for me to take off my shirt.

I did as I was asked. My scars showed. The one thing I hated most about what happened. The scars. Shuri looked for a moment and then away from me, she shot me a nervous smile.

Nat rubbed my back as I sat, applying the stickers.

I feel like a child. And an alien. I hate this.

“This won’t take too long, y/n” Shuri reassured me. “I promise. And then you can sleep.”

“You’re not an alien. Or a child. We just want you better.” Natasha said softly. She’d be such a good mom; she’s so gentle and kind when she’s not kicking ass.

Both Natasha and Shuri laughed. “Very true. Nat is pretty awesome.” She winked at Nat. Nat’s smile faded and she sat in the chair Beside my bed.

Shit. I forgot. I’m sorry, Nat... I tried to project but it didn’t work.

When Shuri left for a moment I turned to Natasha. “I’m sorry, I forgot...and it was meant to be my own thought...” I looked at Nat with a pained look in my own eyes.

“It’s ok. I took it as a complement.” She smiled genuinely. “Plus, I feel like a mom 99% of the time with you all.” We laughed and then sat in silence.

After Shuri’s tests were done, Nat escorted me back to my room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” She insisted.

“No, I am ok. Just tired. Plus I don’t know if I will project my dreams and they can be pretty crazy..” I raised my eyebrows.

“Uh, I don’t know if you mean nightmares or sex dreams but I do NOT want to see you having sex with Peter. Or Thor. Or Bucky. Or-”

“I GET IT!” I tossed a small pillow at her and she laughed.

“Alright, get some sleep. I will see in the morning. I will meet you and Wanda at breakfast. Steve is going to spend some time with Bucky.”

I nodded and got undressed when she left the room. I laid out my pajamas and went to the bathroom to shower off and get ready for bed. As I walked out in my towel, Thor was sitting on the same chair Bucky had been in earlier.

“Can I help you” I acted like I wasn’t phased.

“Yeah I have a question.” Thor said, standing up, walking toward me.

What the fuck. “Ok?” I asked.

“What’s a cleat chaser?”

I just stood, hair dripping, confused as ever.

“When you projected in the hallway. You compared yourself to a cleat chaser. What is that?” He asked again.

“Oh, it’s like...people who sleep with baseball players. Like, typically a lot on one team, I guess.” Really, he’s going to come here and ask that?

“That isn’t the only reason I came.” He responded, lightly.

“Y/N...you didn’t ‘destroy’ your chance with me.” He acknowledged my projection from earlier, again. “I just want you to be happy. You can’t be happy with anyone until you get better. And I’m not talking about your powers. I’m talking about your heart. Your soul. Your emotions.” he spoke with such power and authenticity. “You think I ended things because I thought you were selfish. And I did say that. I said you were selfish and cruel. I have pondered on this for months.”

I listened. Trying to to think.

“I am Thor. I am the literal god of thunder. Son of Odin. And I am the selfish one. I did not bother to see how you’re cruelty toward me, or what I saw as cruelty was hurt. It was pain and suffering. It still is. And when I restated what you’d said to me, the night we first hooked up. You’d said it was to numb the pain. And as we progressed in our...relationship or whatever you want to call it. I couldn’t let it go. I was angry. And I brought it back up, after we went to your mother’s house; Odin bless her soul...I brought it up and spat it back out to you. That I was sleeping around to numb my own pain.”

He was very close to me now. I could feel the heat from his large body vibrating onto mine. His voice was soft but somehow still booming. I gripped my towel and swallowed the knot in my throat.

“I was in pain...I’m still in pain. And I understand now. You weren’t being selfish or cruel. You were feeling guilty, hurt, grieving, angry, sad, and alone. And instead of letting you feel those ways, I took them as you not wanting me. Not caring. Not putting me first.”

Thor was still talking but all I wanted to do was hug him.

“I thought I was supposed to be your priority. And I did up until last night..” He laid his hand gently on my cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “Y/N. I know now, your priority cannot be someone else when you’re hurting. I know that because no matter how many women I lay with, no matter how many ales I drink, my mind goes back to you. I can’t make anyone else my priority when my pain, it‘s you. I love you.”

I burst into tears and just fell into his arms. He patted my head and then held me close to him. I sobbed and sobbed for what felt like hours but he just held me.

“Thor..” I sniffled. “Thor, I can’t express how much that means to me. All I wanted from you was that. To understand I don’t have the capacity to love someone right now. I don’t, even after two years, have the willpower to prioritize someone else. When I do... they hurt me or they fucking DIE.” I sobbed again. This time, doubled over. My knees hit the floor. Thor got on the floor with me for a moment and picked me up. He brought me to the bed and laid me down gently, under the covers.

“Thor, my pajamas...” I cried, holding my towel against me.

“One second...” he grabbed them and helped me put them on. I tried to cover up but it didn’t work.

“Oh stop. I‘ve seen it all before.” He smiled, looking away respectfully. “Yeah, not lately though.” I finished putting them on.

“True...” he smirked. We looked at one another for a moment. I broke the silence. “Thor, will you stay?”

He looked at me solemnly for just a second. “You know I can’t do that...” he tucked me in.

“But-”

“Y/N. I can’t do that,” he insisted.

“Why?” I nearly pouted.

“Because any time I am in the same bed as you.” he trailed off. “And I respect Peter now.”

I blushed. I forgot about Peter. Maybe I am just as cruel as Thor thought I was before. Maybe he’s wrong. I’m not hurting. I’m just mean.

“You’re not mean, Y/N.” He soothed. “You’re lost.”

He was right...but all I wanted was his mouth on mine. My mind went to the day we decided to walk to the creek near the compound.

We had made it to the creek, just in time for Thor to roughly push me up against a tree. I had worn a sundress in hopes he would take advantage of it. His hands roughly ripped down the straps, releasing my chest from its confines. His right hand massaged one as his his mouth attached to the other. My hands immediately latched to his hair, pulling lightly. I could hear his soft moans from the sensation. The vibration against my nipple made me moan myself. My head rested against the tree for a moment before he popped up and reached his hands up my dress.

He yanked my panties down and I stepped out of them. He picked them up and pocketed them.

I pulled his pants down about to his knees and then his boxer-briefs. His cock was at full attention and ready for me. Although my pussy was literally throbbing for him in that moment, my mouth was also drooling.

I pumped his shaft with my hand for a moment before taking him in my mouth. He had one hand on the tree, bracing himself, and one on the back of my head. He was encouraging me to let him go deeper. I allowed it, prompting a gag from myself. He moaned and thrusted again. As he started to take control, fucking my mouth, my hands busied themselves with his balls and one on his thigh to steady my own self.

“Just like that...you’re doing such a good job. Fuck your mouth is amazing.” His thrusts became unrhythmic. I knew that meant he was close to cumming so I shoved him out of my mouth.

“Hey!” He said.

I turned to face the tree, stood on my tippy toes and lifted up my sundress for him to see how much sucking his cock turned me on.

“Oh, damn...“ he groaned, lowly. I felt his tip against my slit, gathering the glistening slickness, preparing to enter me. I used my hands to prop myself against the tree. He entered me slowly, both of us sighing in pleasure.

He started thrusting immediately, not really giving me time to adjust. Although it was painful for a moment, my body gave way and I let out a loud, shaking moan. “Do you like that?” he cooed in my ear softly. “Be quiet or we’re going to be caught...” he thrusted harder, eliciting a louder moan from me.

He reached down for A moment and before I could figure out what he was doing, he shoved my panties in my mouth.

“Shut it,” he warned. His hands now gripped my hips and he railed into my cunt over and over again. My stomach tightened and my moans were snuffed out by my panties. My eyes started to roll backwards as he reached around, stroking my clit just how I liked.

“I am going to cum,” he warned me. As he spoke, his voice was like grit and it was low.

I came, my cunt spasming around him. He came quickly after that, filling me up, leaking down my thigh. He pulled out of me, and spun me around to kiss my lips. I had already pulled the panties out of my mouth. We shared a moment of making out and then he readjusted my straps. He pulled his pants up and used my panties to clean up my thighs and cunt, placing them back into his pocket.

“I still have those panties,” Thor said, interrupting my thoughts. “They’re washed. But I still have them...” his voice was low, just like it gets when he’s horny. I could see his pants were tighter. We locked eyes for a moment and then he turned around. And he left.

[kidslovecudi]

Man On The Moon III: The Chosen - Album Review By “kidslovecudi“

Before I say anything about this album, let me say that I am so excited that Cudi is finally releasing new music! Speaking for all Cudi fans, we have all been waiting for new solo material from the moon man for the longest time and the few teasers he’s been releasing over the last year, with “Leader Of The Delinquents” and his collaborations with Travis Scott, (“The Scotts”) and Eminem (“The Adventures of Moon Man & Slim Shady”) have not been enough to fully satisfy us. With Man on The Moon III: The Chosen, Cudi fulfills on a promise to his fans he made years ago and gives us quite a lot to digest. However despite how fulfilling this record is, Cudi still manages to leave you on the edge of your seat wanting more and I personally can’t wait to see what he’s going to do next!

1. Beautiful Trip (Intro)

Produced by Kid Cudi, FINNEAS, Plain Pat, Emile Haynie & Dot Da Genius

And it starts...

2. Tequila Shots  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 

Produced by Kid Cudi, Dot Da Genius & Take a Daytrip

On this first track Cudi brings us back into the dark world of the moon man but this time with a new outlook. Referencing his previous works, Cudi aims to prove that he’s “not just some sad dude” and feels that despite his mental well being still occasionally being unstable he’s ready for whatever he has to face. What I loved most about this record was Cudi’s consistency. Throughout the years Cudi has mastered the art of having his own unique galactic sound that transcends through all of his music, despite the genre, and that sound is very present here. Along with his classic hums and hypnotic melodies, this track, known as the fan favorite, has the potential to be a classic.

3. Another Day ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Dot Da Genius, Nosaj Thing & Take a Daytrip

When I first heard this song, I absolutely lost my shit. Cudi started this album off swinging and I was not prepared for him to go so hard. I’ve had this song on repeat quite a few times since I first heard it and along with the beat being absolutely sick, Cudi is rapping his ass off! My favorite part is when the beat breaks down in the second chorus, and I get hype as fuck every single time.

4. She Knows This ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

 Produced by J Gramm, FnZ & Dot Da Genius                  

This song on first listen reminded me of a song by another of my favorite artists, called “The Let Out” by Jidenna but Cudi took it to a whole other level and isn’t as repetitive. Once the track speeds up Cudi goes even harder with even trippier sounds that will make you feel like you’re driving through space. One of my favorite things about this album is that a lot of the songs change in the middle keeping you that much more engaged in the whole song than to quickly digest it, like a lot of records on mainstream radio. On top of that his bars are on complete fire and it’s always great to see Cudi flex his rapping skill that a lot of people don’t give him credit for.

5. Dive ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Dot Da Genius, Anthony Kilhoffer, Aaron Bow & Teddy Walton

Dive ends the first act of the album and serves as Cudi’s goodbye to his fantasy high. The guitar riffs at the beginning of the song is my favorite part and I wish they were made a bigger part of the song. However this song is classic Cudi, I initially thought it was missing something but after listening to it on it’s own a few more times, I feel like this song is absolutely perfect. It’s groovy as fuck and  I think because it kind of ends so abruptly that it leaves a lot to be desired, but that also might have been Cudi’s intent, allowing it to serve as interlude of sorts. I loved the transitional elements through out the song, like when the bass comes in, his adlibs throughout the song and especially the echoing adlibs like, “MOVE, MOVE” “towards the end. It takes a few really good listens to fully enjoy the song as a whole, like it did for me but the more I played the album the more and more I fell in love with it.

6. Damaged ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by MIKE DEAN, Dot Da Genius & Take a Daytrip

I loved the words to this song and the overall message that Cudi was trying to convey throughout the song, but the song itself didn’t do a whole lot for me until I actually found myself in a similar dark place. It’s one of those classic Cudi records that really makes you sit and reflect on your life and everything you’ve gone through, which was exactly what the song did for me. This song is where the album starts to slow down a bit and Cudi sings and raps about his trials and tribulations of being a damaged man and that sometimes his demons still come back and he has to deal with them. A common struggle most of us who’ve ever dealt with feelings of anxiety and depression all know too well.

7. Heaven on Earth⭐ ⭐ ⭐

 Produced by Dot Da Genius, Anthony Kilhoffer & DST The Danger

This song really didn’t do a whole lot for me but what I loved the most about it again, were it’s adlibs. Cudi really showed out with the adlibs on this album and that’s what made this song enjoyable for me. The song for me just sounded too typical to me but even despite that, it’s still a great track to vibe to, just not something I’d put on my favorites.

8. Show Out (feat. Skepta & Pop Smoke) ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Dot Da Genius, Anthony Kilhoffer & DST The Danger

Easily one of my favorite tracks on the album, when I first heard this, I completely lost my my shit and it was almost impossible not to turn my entire bedroom upside down. For one beat is absolutely sick and picks the tempo right back up. Cudi, Skepta and Pop Smoke’s voices are infectious together and everyone shines on this song without any one of them over shadowing the other’s performance. Definite a track to rage the fuck out to.

9. Mr. Solo Dolo III ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Kid Cudi, Audio Anthem, Dot Da Genius & Plain Pat

This song is trippy as fuck. From beginning to end this song takes you on an absolutely journey from the chords and the keys and there are no words to describe it. I remember playing this song while I was driving home from work on my scooter at night and man oh man, the vibes this song had was incredible. It made me feel like I was traveling to another galaxy. As a loner, this song really spoke to me and it made me feel like someone else understood exactly how I felt. My favorite part was his scream after the second verse. It made me feel free and liberated and that my feelings in that moment had been validated.

10. Sad People ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Dot Da Genius & Take a Daytrip

This song is an absolute vibe. Cudi’s in his bag, back in his zone, as he said and my favorite thing about this song is the chorus. Cudi’s harmonies are absolutely incredible and my favorite part is towards the end of the chorus when the song takes on an eerie west coast like synth and it’s absolutely infectious.It’s like a dark B side to “Cudi Zone” from the first album which is one of my favorite songs by Cudi to this day. It’s songs like this that made Cudi the legendary moon man that he his, in the first place.

11. Elsie’s Baby Boy (flashback) ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by E*Vax, Kid Cudi, Heavy Mellow & Dot Da Genius

This song sounded like a leftover track from “Speedin’ Bullet To Heaven” and despite how much negative criticism that album got, I absolutely love when Cudi dives into his alternative roots and I really hope he decides to dive deeper into it even further at some point. In this song Cudi sings about his relationship with his mother Elsie and his childhood upbringings. By this it in turn gave me flashbacks to my relationship with my grandmother and my childhood memories which all brought back happy and sad moments for me.

12. Sept. 16 ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Emile Haynie, FINNEAS, Plain Pat & Dot Da Genius

What I loved the most about this record was Cudi’s vulnerability. Cudi has a few rare moments on his albums where he actually sings about love and being in love and it’s always great to hear. Cudi’s such a hopeless romantic and I love when he let’s his guard down and expresses his feelings. This song takes me back to “Kitchen” on “Passion, Pain, & Demon Slayin’“ and though I love that song more, this song was definitely cooked in the same pot.

13. The Void ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by Dot Da Genius, Kid Cudi & MIKE DEAN

The most uplifting song from the album, this song takes me back to some of the vibes from the first album, like his song “Up, Up, and Away”. That was one of the songs in my high school days that made me fully accept myself for who I was, regardless of what people said and this song is just as motivating and uplifting. On the same wave of “Reborn”, Cudi sings about avoiding all negativity on this record and only focusing on the positive. I almost cried towards the end when he thanked us, his fans, for staying with him and never leaving him. It’s a very beautiful song, but I just personally feel like this song should have been the one to end the album or close to end because to me this track is a hard one to follow behind.

14. Lovin’ Me (feat. Phoebe Bridgers) ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by William J. Sullivan, Charlie Handsome, Rami Beatz & Dot Da Genius

It took a little while for this song to set in for me but after it did, it made me want to cry. If you ever struggled with self-love or self-acceptance then this song is for you. What I loved most about this song was the message because it really hit home for me. It’s a beautiful anthem about finding happiness within yourself that I feel a lot of people will relate to.

15. The Pale Moonlight ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Produced by E*Vax, Rami Beatz & Dot Da Genius

Wasn’t feeling this one all too much, but what I loved about it most again, were the adlibs. I loved Cudi’s multiple layering of his vocals throughout the song, especially the “la-la-la-la” parts. The sounds very remiscent to some of Cudi’s earlier music and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear this was a leftover track from “The End Of Day”.

16. Rockstar Knights (feat. Trippie Redd) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Produced by Jenius, WondaGurl, MIKE DEAN, Dot Da Genius & Take a Daytrip

I’m not a big fan of Trippie Redd but I really fuck with his contributions on this song. This is another song where I really loved the chorus and I also love Cudi’s flow once his verse comes in. Cudi’s wordplay is out of this world on this record and it’s hard not to beat your head as Cudi delivers bar for bar for bar throughout his entire verse. Cudi really shines on this record with his skills as a MC and if Cudi ever felt he had anything to prove as a rapper, he definitely did that here. As the song ends it feels like Cudi just turned the spaceship on hyperdrive and took us along for the ride as he drifted further and further into space- Totally sick.

17. 4 da Kidz ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Produced by WondaGurl, MIKE DEAN, Dot Da Genius, 18YOMAN & Take a Daytrip

A song dedicated to the “kidz” reminding us that we are not alone and this song is another song to vibe out to. With instructions from Cudi, to turn it loud if we need to, this song, on the same frequency as “love.” is another song where Cudi is speaking to us as our big brother and giving us a well needed pep talk. What I loved most about it was Cudi’s vocals on the chorus, especially the way he pronounced the “oo” vowel sounds. It was very reminiscent of a Baltimore accent which I always found comical in the best way which is one of things I love the most about Cudi. He’s not afraid to try different things or pull different things from his various influences despite the genre and on this record, he ties them up beautifully.

18. Lord I Know ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Produced by MIKE DEAN, Dot Da Genius, 18YOMAN & Take a Daytrip

Serving as the closer to the album and the man on the moon trilogy, this song is a classic Cudi hym that tells us that we’re not alone regardless of what we face in life. What I liked most about this song was the message, and that’s why I rate it so highly. In this song Cudi expresses being content with the path he’s on at life and after everything he’s gone through, it makes me happy to finally hear that he’s found peace within himself. The song/album ends with his daughter Vada saying, “To be continued” and I can’t wait to see what Cudi has in store for us next. I just have a strong feeling that all of us Cudi fans are about to eat REAL GOOD.

There’s been a lot said about this album, good and bad but I feel this album is merely a taste of what’s to come. Is this record my favorite? No, but what I can say is that it’s an ALBUM, meaning it’s not a group of songs that you can easily separate like many others. This is the kind of album where you have to play the whole thing all the way through time in and time again to really get what Cudi was trying to convey. It’s not a record that you can just play a few times and be done with, no, it’s a grower. There were a lot of songs on this record that I did not like at first, but after having some time to let them marinate, they became some of my favorites and it made me truly appreciate Kid Cudi as an artist because people don’t make albums like this anymore. There’s rare artists that are this detailed with the way the songs transitions, the interludes, and how copacetic the album is in it’s entirety. This album was truly a gift and I can’t wait to see what else Cudi has left up his sleeve.

                                          Top Favorite Songs

                                                  Another Day

                                                          Dive

                                                Tequila Shots

                                             Rockstar Knights

                                                     The Void

                                              Mr. Solo Dolo III

                                  Listen For Yourself Here!

[ddixons-angel]

Fated: Season 6

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: Here we are again, another Monday means another chapter! Hehe I’m not late this time, yay~~! 

Chapter 5

It was just supposed to be a dry run, the plan wasn’t supposed to be set in motion until a few days later, but Michonne had come back with Heath and Jacob bearing bad news and an injured Scott. Aaron helped carry him to the infirmary where Gloria patched up his leg, she then left Denise with Jacob to look after him as Gloria went back out to find out what exactly happened on what was supposed to be a dry run. 

“The walkers broke through the quarry, we had to go with the plan.” Michonne tells Maggie, Aaron, and Gloria, “Daryl went with Sasha and Abraham to lead the herd away and everything was going as planned until we heard the horn coming from home. What was that anyway?”

“A group of people somehow got inside the walls, killed a bunch of people, and I guess one of them crashed a truck into the wall making the horn go off.” Gloria tells her.

Michonne frowns at this, “dammit...”

“What about Rick and Glenn?” Maggie asks, worried.

“Rick went to get the RV to redirect the herd, he told us to come back here to figure out what was going on. I was with Glenn and Nicholas when we got to a town that was overrun. He split off with Nicholas, he had this idea that if he lit a fire, it would stop the walkers from coming here.” Michonne explains.

Gloria furrows her brows as she remembers what Rick had done before, “because that’s how we distracted the walkers at the farm...” 

“I tried to go instead...” Michonne sighs, her voice full of remorse, “I wanted to... but the fire never got lit. We had to keep going, I’m sorry. He said if he got stuck, he’d find a way to send us a signal.”

“They’ll be okay, they’ll make it back, they will.” Gloria says, although she wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure Maggie or convince herself.

Maggie tearfully nods, worried for her husband’s safety. Just then, a familiar voice could be heard from outside the gates, calling out to whoever could hear him. 

“Open the gates!” 

Gloria and Michonne rush over to the main gates and push them open, revealing Rick with a large herd of walkers following him. Once they let Rick inside, they hurriedly shut the gates in time to keep the walkers out. The commotion from the walkers snarling and Rick yelling had attracted attention from the other residents of Alexandria. They were trapped within the walls of their own home with an army of walkers just outside. 

“Come on.” Michonne says quietly to Gloria.

The two of them shut the clothed inner gate, blocking the view of walkers trying to claw their way into the community. As most of the residents had never even stepped outside the walls before, many of them were panicking and not knowing what to say or do. 

“I know, and I understand that you’re all scared because you’ve never seen or been through anything like this.” Rick starts his speech to try and boost morale for the scared people of Alexandria, “the others who aren’t back yet, will be. Glenn will be back with Nicholas.”

Rick looks over to Maggie and he nods then looks over to Gloria, “Daryl, Abraham, and Sasha, they will all come back together.” 

“What exactly do you expect us to do?” Tobin asks, his face full of skepticism.

“We keep the sound to an absolute minimum, hopefully the herd will pass when it’s quiet.” Rick suggests. 

“It’s going to be a graveyard...” Francine sighs, her words cause the others to worry even more.

The feeling of doubt in Rick and fear is evident between the people of Alexandria. It was clear that they all blamed Rick for bringing the herd back and for coming up with the plan to lead the herd away. 

“The quarry broke through sooner than we thought it would and that entire herd of walkers would have made their way back here. But Rick stopped that from happening, instead of having the entire herd tear this place apart, we only have half of that now and that is because of Rick.” Aaron steps up in his defense.

He then closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, “the group that attacked us... I lead them back here. When I was out there with Daryl, he wanted to recruit more people but I... I wanted to scavenge a warehouse. We did what I wanted and we got caught in a trap set by those people. I left my bag behind and that’s how they found this place. I lead them straight here, that’s on me.”

It’s silent save for the groans and moans of the walkers outside the walls. Rick looks at Aaron in gratitude, he knew that he was trying to turn the mood to blame him for things that have happened instead. He pats the other man’s shoulder and nods at him. The crowd begins to disperse, keeping quiet as they all retreat back to their own homes. 

“Gloria,” she hears Jacob call out to her as he walks towards her, “listen, I’m sorry about Glenn, I wanted to go with them but they wouldn’t have me.”

“Are you wondering why?” Gloria raises her eyebrow.

He sighs and shakes his head, “no, no I’m not... I am wondering though... why are there bodies inside the walls, did roamers get in?”

“No, people did,” Gloria tells him, “they got in here somehow and started slaughtering people...”

“What? Are Mindy and Gena okay?” he asks, frantically.

“They’re fine, at least they should be. I told them to stay inside, keep the doors locked until someone comes to get them,” Gloria tells him, “we should go check on them, let Mindy know you’re okay before she passes out.”

Jacob nods at that and the two make their way to Gena’s house. Gloria makes sure to knock on the door and call out to Gena to let her know it’s them. Shortly after, the door opens and Jacob rushes inside to make sure his sister is alright. Gloria walks into the house and closes the door behind her.

Mindy frowns as she sees the cuts and scrapes on his face, “Gloria, are the dangerous men outside gone?”

“Yeah, they’re gone.” Gloria nods. 

“Okay, we’re going to the infirmary,” Mindy says, looking at Jacob, “the last thing we want is for the cuts on your face to get infected, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Jacob sighs and nods, complying with his sister’s words. They make their way to the infirmary, leaving Gena and Gloria alone. 

“Gena,” Gloria calls out to her older sister to catch her attention, “Michonne said that Glenn’s still out there with Nicholas in some town, he wanted to light a fire to distract the herd from coming here.” Gloria says, her jaw tight as she tries to hold herself together.

Gena furrows her brow at her words as she sees right through Gloria, knowing she’s putting up a strong front, she pulls her in for a comforting hug, “Glenn will be fine, and Daryl will be too.”

Gloria smiles tearfully at her as she pulls back from the hug, nodding, “and so will we, we’ll keep this place up so they have a home to come back to.”

Gena nods then opens the container of cookies on the island counter, “cookie?” she asks, offering one to the younger.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to eat them because of all the sugar,” Gloria chuckles as she takes a cookie for herself.

“I might not have long left so I might as well have all the sugar I want.” Gena says, then takes a bite of her cookie, her words make Gloria frown.

“Don’t talk like that,” she scolds then groans when Gena shrugs, “you are so contradictory. One minute you’re telling me that things will be okay, the next you’re talking about not having any time left. What the hell do you actually think?!”

“I think that I’m not gonna make it!” Gena snaps, “I’m surprised I even made it this far. You can fight, Glenn’s fast, of course both of you are gonna make it, but me? I can only fight with my words, that’s why I became a lawyer but what good is that gonna do for me now? What, am I going to just yell at the undead to stop coming at me?!”

Gloria puts down the cookie on the island counter and holds Gena by her shoulders, “look at me. You will make it, okay? It doesn’t matter that you can’t fight or you’re not as fast as Glenn, you’ll make it because we will all make it. You’re not alone in this, we got your back. You said I can fight, right? I’ll protect you.”

Gena chuckles softly at her words, “who’s supposed to be the older sister?” 

“It doesn’t matter who’s older or younger, we’re family, and family protect each other no matter what.” Gloria says with a warm smile.

Gena’s eyes well up with tears and she caresses Gloria’s cheeks, breaking into a sob, “what did I do to you? You always had to fend for yourself... I’m so sorry...”

“It’s okay,” Gloria says, pulling Gena in for a hug as the older cries in her arms, “if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long anyway.”

As Gena tries to stifle her sobs, Gloria’s eyes land on a photo album on the island counter near the container of cookies. She reaches out to slide it towards her and opens it, her movement making Gena pull away from the hug to see what Gloria was doing. She flips to a page in the album with childhood photos of the three siblings. She chuckles when she sees the three of them as children.

“You brought photo albums with you?” Gloria teases.

“Of course, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see my baby brother and sister again so the least I had were these.” Gena admits, looking at the photos.

A sad smile pulls at Gloria’s lips then Gena clears her throat, trying not to break down and cry again. She flips to a specific page in the album and points to a photo.

“That’s my favorite picture of us.” Gena informs her.

It was a photo of them all in formal clothing. Glenn was in a black suit, Gloria in a dark blue dress, and Gena in a red dress. The photo was taken at one of their cousin’s weddings. 

“It’s my favorite because we all look so grown up and happy. I’m also pretty sure it’s the only photo of us all smiling.” Gena explains.

Gloria laughs and nods, “yeah, if you look at all of these it’s either me pouting and crying or Glenn making a weird face at the camera.”

The sisters go through more photo albums for hours, reminiscing over past events captured in the photos. After Mindy and Jacob had returned to the house, Gloria went back to her own to rest as it was getting quite late. She had tried to sleep but no matter how exhausted her body felt, her mind was not allowing her to fall asleep. She’d been tossing and turning in her bed for hours when she decided to get up. Gloria walks into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water before sitting on a stool at the kitchen island counter. She places the glass in front of her as she props her elbows up on the counter, clasping her hands together to keep herself from fidgeting anxiously. 

Gloria couldn’t help but be worried about Glenn and Daryl, no matter what anyone else told her. It was the fact that she had no idea where they were that worried her the most. A big part of her wished that she went against Daryl’s wishes and gone out with them, at least then she would be with either of them and know what the heck was going on. Now, she was just sitting in the kitchen helplessly, not knowing what else to do. The door opening pulls Gloria out of her thoughts and she forces a smile at Maggie who walks into the house.

“Hey, why aren’t you sleeping?” Maggie asks, stepping towards her, a worried look on her face.

“I don’t think any of us are gonna get any sleep tonight,” Gloria chuckles softly and then she sighs, “how are you holding up?”

“Not great,” Maggie tells her honestly, joining her on one of the other stools at the kitchen island counter, “I almost went out there to find him.”

“Alone?” Gloria furrows her brow in concern.

“I was about to, but Aaron insisted on coming with me,” Maggie tells her, “showed me a way out from the sewers, we were almost out, but I changed my mind...”

“It’s good that you did, Glenn wouldn’t want you out there, not in the middle of this,” Gloria says, holding her hand in reassurance.

Maggie lets out a shaky breath, “I’m pregnant.”

Gloria’s eyes widen at the news then she smiles at her, “congratulations.”

“For what?” Maggie snaps, tears brimming in her eyes, “having a baby who’s father might already be dead?”

“Maggie, you can’t think like that,” Gloria says sternly, “Glenn’s going to be back, I know he will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Maggie asks as she tries to keep herself from crying.

“It’s Glenn. He’s not going to let you go through this alone, he’ll be back and he’ll take care of you. I know him, he’s going to do everything he can to get back to you and your baby,” Gloria gives her hand a light squeeze to comfort her.

A small smile tugs at Maggie’s lips and she smiles tearfully at Gloria, nodding, “you’re right, that’s how Glenn is...” 

“Yeah,” Gloria smiles in agreement, then she lets out a breath.

“Hey,” Maggie calls out, making the other look at her, “Daryl’s gonna be back too.”

Gloria nods at that, “our boys will be back, they will be.” 

---

In the morning, Gloria goes out to check on the others. She mainly wanted to see if Glenn or Daryl had come back, but unfortunately they were still outside the walls. Her first stop was the infirmary to check up on Scott.

“How’s it going?” Gloria asks, she glances at Scott who’s still asleep on the patient bed.

“He had an infection and was burning up last night.” Denise informs.

Gloria looks at her and frowns, “why didn’t you come find me?” 

“I know I should have, but I wanted to try first... I wanted to try and figure it out on my own in case I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t let what happened to Holly stop me from trying.” Denise says.

Her words make Gloria smile proudly and she nods, “since his heart rate is normal, I’m gonna take an educated guess that you managed to figure it out?”

“Yep, I did,” Denise grins, “I injected his wound with saline and extracted the pus from it. Once I did, his heart rate stabilized.”

Gloria pats Denise’s shoulder, “you’ve officially been promoted to a doctor.” 

Denise giggles then bites her lip, blush creeping on her face, “I um...” 

“Yes?” she raises an eyebrow in question.

“I... kinda kissed Tara yesterday after figuring things out.” Denise admits shyly.

“And you kept on denying that you didn’t like her.” Gloria calls her out, laughing.

Denise rolls her eyes jokingly at her teasing but laughs with her anyway. A knock on the infirmary door interrupts their chat as they both turn and see Morgan. The two women greet the man who in turn smiles at them.

“I uh... I was hoping to speak with Denise alone. I heard she was a psychiatrist before and I have uh... some issues I wanted to work out.” Morgan says sheepishly.

Gloria smiles understanding and nods, “he’s all yours, Dr. Cloyd.”

Denise beams at her new title, grinning shyly as she bids farewell to Gloria who leaves the two in the infirmary. She goes on to find Maggie who was on the platform keeping watch. She climbs up to meet her sister-in-law and stands beside her, looking out into the herd of walkers just outside the walls. 

“Have you seen any signs?” Gloria asks her.

Maggie shakes her head, “no... just walkers.”

Gloria nods and sighs. They were both worried for Glenn, it wasn’t that they didn’t think he could handle himself, it was more so of the fact that he was out there with Nicholas. What if he hadn’t changed and tried to kill Glenn again, they would never know. Emotion overcomes Maggie as her eyes well up in tears, she looks down and sniffles, doing her best to stop herself from crying. Gloria looks at her sympathetically and holds her shoulder firm for reassurance. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday...” Maggie sighs deeply, “I shouldn’t have said what I said about Glenn being dead...”

“It’s okay...” Gloria pauses then chuckles, “are you gonna snap at me if I say that I blamed your hormones?”

Maggie eyes her playfully then finally breaks into a smile, “no, I’ll just push you off this ledge.”

The two of them laugh lightly as they look out into the distance. Both of their expressions change as something in the distance catches their eyes. A bundle of green balloons were floating up into the sky. It dawns on both of them that this was the sign they were waiting for, Glenn was alive and this was his signal. 

“We gotta tell Rick.” Maggie says, rushing down the ladder.

“Hey, be careful.” Gloria calls out as she quickly follows her down. 

“Rick! Rick!” Maggie calls out as she runs towards the sheriff, “that’s Glenn.”

He was also looking up at the sky, his eyes on the bundle of bright green balloons. Rick glances at her and nods with a small smile. His smile is short lived though as they all hear a thundering crack of wood along the wall. The watchtower begins to sway just before it leans into the wall and crashes down, taking the metal walls with it. 

---

Next Chapter

Sorry for not having any Daryl in this one but it’s worth it, I swear! I’d say this is kinda like the calm before the storm? The next one gets pretty intense so look forward to that! Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter, it was a rather emotional one in my opinion ^^

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

@twdeadfanfic​ | @fandomfanatic97​ | @crossbowking​ | @watchmeaspire​ | @spidergirla5​ | @kamieshep | @letsstarsfalling​ | @molethemollie​ | @alicewinchester99 | @neilox | @womanup22 | @jodiereedus22 | @theonlyone-meeeee | @theunofficialduke | @inlovewdxx | @delightfullykrispypeach | @mrsfortune1306 | @wolfkg | @funeral-7 | @wnygirl2012 | @alispaceme | @themihala | @aavocadocloud |  @polkadottedpillowcase | @felicisimor | @depressedfrog2 | @spacexkiddo0 | @rachelxwayne | @liadamerondjarin | @soraitmnt | @angelofthorr | @vampteefies | @decadentsoulbiscuitgoth

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Three: The One When They're Alone

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4040

     Lily knew was never a huge fan of Christmas. The only reason she put the amount of effort she did into it was for Hunter. He loved the holiday. As a child, it was usually one of the only days that his father would be home the whole day. But it was one of Lily's least favourites, because her parents weren't typically home for Christmas. Usually, Lily and her siblings would find themselves up at their grandparents. She wasn't complaining, she loved her grandparents, and she knew her parents wanted to be home, but their work was essentially them constantly travelling. And then further in her future, Scott may have been there for Hunter, but he was not there for Lily. He was seemingly at his worst during the holidays...and she just happened to be the one on the receiving end of his anger.

Lily hadn't seen Bucky get angry yet. It sat in the back of her mind like a looming threat, and she wondered if the past few months had simply been a facade. That in reality, he was no different. Did she think it was true? No, no she didn't think he would ever hurt her. But she had suffered such trauma from Scott that she just...she was never too sure.

"Your turn, doll," Bucky smiled, picking up two boxes that were very clearly wrapped by Rose, seeing as the girl was sending a knowing nod at her older sister, "Yeah yeah Rose wrapped them, my attempt was sad."

Lily laughed and kissed the man's cheek before turning to his presents that sat in her lap. She picked up the first one, it was long and rectangular, not too large either. Raising her eyebrow, she carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a lovely leather case with her name scripted on the top of it. Looking over at him, she pursed her lips before lifting the black lid, feeling the tears prick at her forest green eyes. She stared down at the silver necklace, running her hands over the scripted letter that hung from the chain. It was a small pendant, simple and discreet. But it was something that made Lily's heart grow three times its size. A simple B hung from the chain.

"Buck..." she whispered, looking up at him with glazed and teary eyes, "It's lovely." she cooed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips before lifting it from the white pillow it rested on.

"Let me." Bucky chuckled, taking the piece of jewelry and moving her blonde hair across her shoulder. She turned her back to him and shivered at his metal hand brushing against the back of her neck as he clasped the necklace together.

"Alright open the other one." Gen said excitedly, earning a head tilt from the blonde. Bucky chuckled lowly from behind her and Lily readjusted herself in her seat, carefully unwrapping the next box.

As she opened the lid of the next box, her confusion only grew. Inside the box laid a single white envelope with her name written. Reaching in and pulling out the box, Lily furrowed her eyebrows. Opening the envelope, her heart only continued to grow. Inside sat a picture of a cabin, covered in snow and decorated with lovely garland. The cabin was built of logs, and had a fire burning on the inside. The snow was so perfectly landscaped it almost seemed fake, but she knew it was just a picturesque image taken to lure people in for what she figured would be a vacation. In the bottom, a handwritten note was written out in Bucky's hand writing, with a simple few words summing up exactly what it was.

"Just the two of us." He repeated aloud, hand resting on the small of her back, tracing gentle patterns, "It's Steve's cabin. Y'know with him retired now, he doesn't exactly have a lot to do. But he said it's ours for as long as we want it." he continued, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"It's perfect, Buck," she whispered, a gentle chuckle lacing her voice as she turned and placed a kiss to his forehead, "Absolutely perfect."

-----

And it was. Bucky and Lily had decided to take Steve up on his offer the weekend of Valentine's Day. The couple had reached three months together officially, and she figured it would be nice for them to experience the romantic weekend alone together. No kids, no sisters, no work, no distractions. Bucky had promised her that there would be no interruptions, and that it was just going to be the two of them. He made an emphasis on the whole 'no work' part, and Lily would be sure to hold him to it.

Turning off the car, Bucky turned to look at Lily with a kind and loving smile on his face, "Alright doll, we've arrived."

Lily glanced out the window and smiled at the snowy landscape. It was February so the cold wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't exactly a comfortable temperature either. Lily was a Long Island native, so Northern New York weather wasn't exactly her favourite thing. It dipped down quite low and she would have to estimate it sat at about minus ten celsius currently. Either way, she was just grateful for the time alone with Bucky. It had felt like ages since the two didn't have something going on around them. Whether it be Bucky's work, or Lily's. Not to mention, Rose was nearing her due date and constantly stressed about the arrival of her baby, while also finding somewhere to live that wasn't Lily's.

"That drive felt like hours," Lily teased, leaning over and nudging Bucky's arm, "I'm just glad you didn't fall asleep on me old man." she quipped, popping open her door and stepping out from the car.

"You have been hanging out with Sam way too much," Bucky chuckled, following the blondes suit, "You're starting to sound like him."

"Well the man is a comedic genius, I should be taking pointers." She hummed, picking up her bag from the back seat and hauling it over her shoulder, rounding the car to meet Bucky.

"Don't tell him that, it'll inflate his ego even bigger than it is." Bucky chuckled, walking over and quickly grabbing her by the waist.

The blonde let out a bright laugh, curling over in his arms and stumbling along the snow. Bucky's chuckle filled her ears like a sweet song as the two stumbled back towards the log cabin belonging to their friend. His lips found her cheek and peppered loving pecks along it, causing her giggles to evolve into small squeaks as she fumbled to pull out the keys. When she found them, it didn't take long for the blonde to unlock the door and peel herself from the supersoldiers arms. Dropping her bag and tugging the grey knit hat off of her hair, Lily turned to look back at the man who stood in front of the door. Placing her hands on her hips, she admired him for a moment. Nothing was on her mind. Just him.

The way his eyes sunk a bit deeper into his face due to the years of struggle and trauma. The way he had let his beard grow out a bit, not fully a beard but a thicker stubble. Were his shoulders always so broad? Lily admired the way his arm flexed when he removed his own hat, swallowing deeply. But the biggest thing that stood out to her was the way he looked at her. That deep thought sort of gaze, as if he were doing the same thing she was. Admiring everything about the other. No exterior factors playing any games, just the two of them. Alone. He looked at her so lovingly, watching her every move intently and studying the way she acted. He was so in tune with everything about Lily that she began to blush, and he was merely looking at her, neither had spoken.

"What're you staring at, Barnes?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothin', Osborne." he retorted, closing the door and sliding his jacket off before turning back towards her, a smirk evident on his lips.

Pursing her lips into a smile, Lily ran forward and jumped up onto the man, wrapping her legs around his torso. Her arms snuck around his neck, while his found underneath her thighs. Their lips hovered mere centimetres from the others, breathing in the others' existence before finally connecting. It was cheesy and cliche but she felt fireworks deep within her stomach. The two moved together like ocean waves joining together, creating a large body of water. Lily's hands tangled themselves into the short strands on the top of his head and Bucky stumbled his way to the couch. He bent over and laid her gently on the leather couch. She hummed softly at the feeling of a yarn blanket tickling at her neck as he hovered above her. Both of their faces were flushed from the cold outside and the passionate moment they had just shared. Bucky's steel blue eyes stared down at her and he reached over the couch. Furrowing her eyebrows, Lily watched as he pulled out a black old fashioned camera.

"Surprised you know how to work one of those things, old man." she teased, covering her face with her chilled hands.

"Oh don't get smart with me now, doll," he purred, moving her hands with his metal one, "you'll regret it later." the man winked, quickly snapping a photo of the woman before tossing the camera onto the table.

"Is that a threat or a promise." Lily returned, a smirk evident on her lips.

"Well...I did tell Steve he'll probably want to hire a deep cleaning service after we're done." He chuckled, resting his weight on his heels.

"James Barnes!"

-----

Lily hummed gently to herself to the song that played through the small kitchen in the cabin. Saving All My Love For You by Whitney Houston was her background noise of choice as she put together a romantic dinner for her and Bucky to commemorate their first night there. The lyrics left her mouth in a soft tone as she chopped up cucumbers for the salad, her hips swaying gently to the music. Bucky had stepped out to the grocery store in town to pick up a few things they had left back at the house, and Lily wanted to surprise him. She had packed a dress that her and Gen had found at a vintage shop in Manhattan, it was 40's inspired, with a deep forest green colour, a bow at the collar with a keyhole that exposed a bit of her collarbone, and hit just below her knee. It had short sleeves, and made her feel like she should be on the dance floor of The Cotton Club in Harlem during the 1940's. She had attempted the classic pin curls of the time but...they were subpar.

Glancing behind her, Lily stirred the marinara sauce as the chicken baked in the oven. But the lights of the car made her stomach drop. She was hoping the snow would slow him down enough for her to finish dinner and have it ready for him when he got home. Pouting to herself, Lily returned to her chopping. Well, as much as she wanted her plan to fully execute itself, she tried her best. Not to mention, he had shown himself to be a fast driver. Her voice continued to sing out the lyrics to Whitney, as she checked on the chicken. She popped her head up briefly when she heard the crunching of snow grow closer to the door. She stood, and brushed off the soft dress she wore as she waited.

"The snow is crazy, doll, I swear," Bucky's voice called, "but I got the snacks you wanted. I also rented a few movi- woah."

A blush flooded the blonde's face as she locked eyes with the man across from her. He was covered in snow and carrying four different grocery bags. But they fell from his fists as he stared at her longer. Insecurities washed over Lily at his silence and she crossed her arms over her stomach, that familiar queasy feeling returning. Her eyes shifted to stare down at her feet as she shuffled on the hardwood floor, waiting for him to say something, or anything at that.

She didn't even hear him take off his jacket, his boots, or anything. She didn't even hear him walk over to her. But she did feel the way his arms slipped around her waist, hands playing along her stomach as the music changed into the 40's love songs she had put in the queue. The gentle sounds of guitar played as Aubrey Hepburn's melodic tone filled the kitchen. Moon River began to play, and Bucky nuzzled his face into the crook of Lily's neck. Her eyes fluttered shut as he swayed behind her, his grip moving her with him. The food long forgotten about, Lily turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck. Their foreheads met one anothers, eyes shut as they continued to sway back and forth in the kitchen. With the snow falling outside, and the delectable smells filling the cabin, Lily felt like she was in a dream. Any worry she had ever felt leaving her as the moment consumed her.

His lips ghosted hers as the song came to an end, but his grip didn't waver. The two continued with their dance, seconds turning to minutes as time seemed to cease to exist. The only thing both felt was the bodies of each other. His hands gripping her waist, rubbing circles through the silky material of her dress. The smoky musk of him filling her senses acting as though it were a drug, sending her into a state of euphoria. She knew they weren't a conventional couple, but it were these moments that reminded her that they could be. The couple that went on walks on the beach, or walked the dog through central park. Or danced in the kitchen at 3 in the morning. Went on ice cream dates, with or without Hunter. Spent time talking and telling the other just what went on in their heads. Growing together as separate people with a shared love.

But the fire alarm pulled her back from her daydreams, and reality smacked Lily in the face.

"Oh my god the chicken!" She exclaimed, pulling away from Bucky's strong grip as she grabbed her oven mitts and pulled open the oven, a puff of smoke wafting into her face.

Bucky laughed gently as Lily scrambled around, trying to salvage the rest of the meal she had planned. When she saw the sauce and chicken however, her heart sunk down to the floor. Groaning, the blonde placed her elbows on the counter and her face in her hands. She shook her head and felt the heartbreak spread through her at her failed evening attempt.

"If it makes you feel better," Bucky cooed, lifting his girlfriends chin to look at him, "I bought your favourite pizza, and rented your favourite movie...and just so happened to pick up your favourite ice cream," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, "and as hot as you look in this dress...why don't we just get into pyjamas and watch a few movies and veg out."

Lily smiled sadly at him and nodded, "I like that plan. I should have known that trying to cook alone would be a disaster."

"I give it an A for effort."

"Oh whatever, metal man."

-----

Lily groaned as she stretched her arms above her head, before rubbing the heel of her hand into her eyes. Peeling the lids apart, the bright sun sent a shock through her system. Collecting her barings, Lily realized her and Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch. She had to admit, it was a pretty comfy couch. It was made of leather and had deep sides with the tufted coverings, and small cashmere blankets that were not at all big enough to cover anyone. But the two had grabbed a few spare from the closet before they settled in for their movie night. Glancing down, Bucky's head rested on her stomach, the man still sound asleep. She admired the calmness in his face, the stress lines faded and smoothed out as he rested. Reaching behind her, she grabbed ahold of the camera he had brought and quickly snapped a photo, admiring his gentle snores. She ran her fingers through his hair and tilted her head to the side. Lily had known Bucky was handsome, hell, the first time she saw him she knew it.

He had chiseled cheekbones, a sharp jawline that was covered with stubble. His cheeks hollowed slightly, and his eyes creased at the edges. His nose was straight with a slight bump to it, and it fit his face shape perfectly. His eyes were hooded and even closed, held stories that she couldn't imagine. While asleep, they were less noticeable, but there were creases in the centre of his forehead, and Lily's stomach did a flip. His breathing was still that of a deep sleep, and she couldn't help but trace the contours of his face. The aged lines that each told a tale of his life. The rough patches of hair that prickled at the blonde's still hands as she continued to admire him.

Moments later, he began to stir from between her legs, causing Lily to giggle slightly as his nose scrunched. His eyes seemed to force themselves open at the noise, and the same feeling she got from the bright light seemed to hit Bucky as well. Her soft coos caused a groan to emit from the man's throat as he burrowed his face deeper into her stomach, pulling the blankets further over them both. Shaking her head, Lily pulled herself up from underneath the large man, or at least tried to. His weight was on a certain part of her body that just held her in one place. Throwing her head back, Lily shook her head before looking back down at him.

"Buck, c'mon, let's get up." She sighed, ruffling the messy curls on his head.

"Five more minutes." He whined, pulling her closer by her hips.

"No. I'm a mother, I know what five more minutes means," she laughed, "and we are not spending all day on the couch. Lets go skate on the lake today, love."

Bucky shot up, eyes wide at her request, "No. No, I refuse."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Lily crossed her slightly cramped legs, "...and why do you refuse, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky scratched the back of his neck as he avoided the intense gaze that Lily was sending his way. Lowering her eyes, the blonde crawled forward and took his face into her hands. They locked eyes and for a moment, she thought about kissing him. But she figured it would be better to figure out why he was so against going skating. Then it clicked, and she realized just why he was so against it. Pursing her lips to keep from smiling, Lily leaned back onto her heels.

"Bucky...do you not know how to skate?" She wondered, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"...Do not tell Steve or Sam they will be on my ass about it." Bucky quickly said, taking his girlfriends hands into his own.

"I won't, I won't, but I'm invoking the 'It's Valentine's Day' card. Because it's Valentines Day, and it will be romantic," she grinned, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, "plus, I'll teach you how to skate. It's not that hard I promise. I saw they have skates down at the lake so c'mon, gotta get a good pair."

"You're gonna be the death of me, doll."

"That's what I'm here for."

-----

He wasn't lying when he said he didn't know how to skate. Lily skated gracefully out onto the ice, waiting for Bucky to lace up his skates. It had been a while since she had skated, seeing as it wasn't something she did commonly. She used to go all the time with Gen back in Long Island when they were younger, but eventually they stopped. But her muscle memory kicked in as she twirled and skated around the ice. She dodged children and couples as she warmed up her body. Only to spot Bucky hesitantly staring at the ice in front of him. Lily made her way back towards him, stretching her mitt covered hand out towards him.

"It's not going to bite, Buck," Lily smiled softly, moving a bit closer, "C'mon. I'll be here the whole time." she reassured, gripping his hand as he curled it into hers.

The moment he stepped onto the ice, both ended up falling. Him from a lack of balance, and her from the fact he fell. Bucky groaned while Lily laughed, pushing herself off the ground and placing her hands on her hips. He had flopped his arms out and let his head fall against the ice, a clearly forced pained look on his features. Rolling her eyes, Lily gripped his hand and yanked, attempting to pull him back up onto his feet. The thing is, he was a supersoldier, she was a doctor. She had strength, hell, she pushed out a child. But you see, Bucky was, once again, a supersoldier. Dropping his arm, and crossing her own over her chest, Lily glared down at him.

"I won't cook dinner for a week if you don't help me get you up." Lily threatened, arching her brow.

Opening his eyes, Bucky mirrored her expression, "Is that a threat or a promise?" He teased, resulting in a handful of snow to be thrown at him. A low laugh escaped from his chest as Bucky heaved himself up, gripping onto Lily for support.

"Wow you're such a comedian." She quipped, rolling her eyes and gripping onto his forearms.

The two skated for a few hours. Two to be exact. Bucky had essentially latched onto Lily's waist the entire time. She skated around, dragging him behind her as he bent over and hugged himself to her back, arms tightly wound around her waist. At one point, he did let go and try to stand on his own. He lasted about...five minutes. After that, Lily had to offer her back as support for the poor man so he didn't go tumbling face first into the ice. The entire time was spent laughing and stumbling, as well as Lily trying her hardest to just get him to stand. Sadly, she didn't have much luck. He continued to grip onto her even when they were heading back towards the edge to leave and take off their skates. It was endearing, but Lily had hoped to get somewhere with it. Still, she had a good time. And seeing The Winter Soldier be genuinely afraid to fall made Lily's heart swell. Seeing that more vulnerable side of him made Lily sure they were moving in a good direction in their relationship.

As the two neared the cabin, Lily saw a familiar car parked on the road across from where they were staring. She didn't think too much of it as they walked into the cabin, ridding of their coats and winter gear they had layered on, to face the bone chilling cold that had taken over the outdoors. Both then dropped onto the couch with cups of tea and coffee, Lily had the tea, and Bucky the coffee. His arm draped around her, drawing patterns into her knit sweater covered arm.

But the peace didn't last long.

A knock on the door surprised Lily and Bucky. They both stopped talking about their ideal vacations, and turned to look at the door. Lily placed her tea down and stood to her feet, making her way over towards the wooden piece. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she glanced over at Bucky before she pulled the door open. Her jaw went slack and mind went blank when she saw the person. Because she knew the reason he would be here.

"Hey Lily...is Bucky here?"

[seven-oomen]

Please talk about Noah! Your takes are super interesting and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

(hope you're having a nice day!)

Alright then strap in! Because I am about to tell you why I think Noah Stilinski is;

A. Bisexual

B. Has the inattentive type of ADHD

Let’s begin!

First off, I think Noah Stilinksi is a bisexual man who has a preference for feminine presenting people. (As one would typically see women dress/appear in western society.) I don’t particularly have evidence for this, I tried scouring S3 to find clues of it, but honestly, I think this is just one of those, I headcanon it and therefore to me, it is true. If you have a different opinion, then awesome, you do you. 

I mean there are some looks between him and Chris Argent that can be interpreted as interested, but you’d have to look very closely. For now, it’s just one of those things, to me it’s like that, and I have fun with it.

Like father, like son right? Except Stiles would be more on the 50/50 scale of bisexuality where I think Noah is more on the 70/30 scale leaning towards feminine people.

As for his ADHD, I did find a lot of clues and tidbits there, so: 

Notice how the sheriff is frequently standing with his arms crossed as if he’s either trying to protect himself (trauma-based) or trying to keep himself from moving too much (ADHD based). This would also explain why the sheriff is often seen standing too still. He also tends to talk with his hands, which is another thing a lot of ADHD people have in common. Though to be fair a lot of NT people do this too.

However here in 3x01 we see the sheriff fully focused on this person while they’re trying to work something out.

Then the next second, Melissa enters the hallway and Noah’s undivided attention is suddenly on her, he barely remembers to utter out an excuse me before addressing Melissa. And he does it as if every neuron in his brain is suddenly focused on her. “Oh hey, Melissa!” 

*Brain switch. Undivided attention is now on Melissa.*

This is a form of hyper-focusing, and if you’ve been trained from a young age you do this while making it look NT-passing. You mask it. I do this. People with ADHD-C or ADHD-I that have a basis in trauma tend to this in my experience.

Like Stiles tends to do, the sheriff too, is moving around fidgeting in the blurry background. He’s talking faster than he can process which is picked up on by his stutters. While he’s trying to figure out a resolution to this conflict. 

You can also tell that there might be some RSD at play here due to the fact that he seems very keen to keep the peace in the scene and wants everyone to get along and let’s keep everyone around me chill. This may not seem like a stereotypical ADHD thing to do, but it’s very common in ADHD-I types.

In the scene with Deaton that he shares in this episode, as well as numerous scenes with Stiles and other characters. You can always see him thinking, you can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to make connections and tries to focus on what lies ahead of him and what people are saying to him. 

Sometimes he successfully succeeds in listening and processing. You see this by his frowns, little head movements. But as soon as those arms cross or his frown deepens you can tell someone is trying to flip the switch, but the light’s not turning on. The information isn’t being processed by his brain. He’s trying to defend himself.

Again, this is a typical thing for someone with ADHD-I who’s been trained and has had extensive therapy to cope with his symptoms. For a while and for general conversations/problems, you are capable of holding the thread. When things get complicated, that’s when you start to see the thread unraveling in Noah’s head.

In 3x02 there’s a moment of impatience as he wakes the boys up but also clearly a look on his face that says a few things.

1. Omg Stiles has done it again.

2. Look at the state of this room where do I even begin? I don’t know, so I just won’t bother.

3. Oh no I have absolutely been here and now I have to deal with my son being in this state too.

So he does the most logical thing to him, he doesn’t deal with it. Just his executive dysfunction going off and thinking; nope I’m not dealing with this, I need to get work, I don’t have time to sit down (hence the mug in his hands.) Man is probably running late already and only now waking the boys up because he realizes they’re A. still in his house. And B. not off to school yet and he needs to get going too.

He has a moment like this in multiple episodes where his impatience and incapability of dealing with a situation in front of him causes him to physically drag Stiles away and using too much force to do it. Though judging by Stiles’s reactions, and the way he relaxes after being grabbed, the sheriff seems to realize how hard he is grabbing and eases up every single time.

And that seems like a little detail, but not knowing your own strength is also a thing that can correspond with ADHD. (Though it can occur in NT people and other conditions as well. Or generally, be caused by anger.) But for the sake of this essay or meta, I will attribute it to Noah having ADHD.

In 3x09 Stiles finally clues him in on what’s happening in Beacon Hills and we can clearly see that he’s struggling to process everything. One could attribute that purely to; 

1. Noah is trying to come to terms that supernatural creatures are real and this would be a lot for anyone to process. Which is a fair and a totally valid assumption.

2. However, we see signs of Noah already starting to believe something is up from the very beginning. There’s always been a side to the sheriff where he was willing to believe or give people the benefit of the doubt when it came to the supernatural. Like in 3x03 when he tells his deputy: “She saw something.”

This leads me to believe that the real matter at hand is that Noah simply can’t process all that information at that time and he needs a few days to think it over in order to do so. Which could be a sign of a processing problem due to ADHD. (Although as I have pointed out, it could also be interpreted as an NT just getting a lot of crazy information at once. Take it as you will.)

In 3x07 Stiles and Scott argue over whether or not to tell Noah what’s going on with the sacrifices. Stiles points out that they shouldn’t because his father is completely overwhelmed.

This can be attributed to several things and interpreted in different ways. Let’s lay down the most obvious one; the sheriff has no idea what’s going on, he has the FBI on his case, and multiple murders on his hands and essentially a serial killer. All of these on their own are enough to be overwhelmed by, yes.

I choose to interpret it as a combination of all of these factors combined with an inability to process this much information or information in general. Which is another symptom of ADHD-I.

We also hear him frequently telling Stiles and the other kids to ‘go home, get to class, go to school.’ Basically what he’s doing in moments like this is 1. looking out for them. 2. Unable to cope and process with all the information he’s been giving during that time and instead of lashing out at the kids, he tries a coping mechanism that’s called divert or redirect. Where you try to redirect people/thoughts/object into a direction or thought process that’s far more manageable to you. 

Which is something that I’ve been taught to do myself in therapy. And that is why I think it’s something Noah has been taught to do as well. Either in the Army/Police Academy. or during therapy sessions.

Now, this is what I like to call Noah’s; I’m trying to process what you’re trying to tell me face. And so far, I’m keeping up. You see the pursed lips, the frown on his face, the slightly squinted eyes. He’s focusing on what Stiles is trying to tell him.

Here he is looking away for a second, processing, trying to manage information. We see him frown further, his lip tensing further, he has to try harder.

He’s processing, processing, he blinks. And then this is the face he pulls right after the blink.

The frown has deepened, he's still following Stiles for now but you can see he’s starting to lose the train of thought here.

Stiles keeps explaining, pulls out the chessboard to explain what is going on.

And Noah has completely lost his train of thought. He has no idea what Stiles is saying to him anymore and no way to process all of the information that Stiles is giving him after this moment. He gets impatient, is annoyed at the things Stiles is telling him. That is because he’s emotionally, and physically overwhelmed. 

He deals with a lot of things in his job and he always seems utterly exhausted because of it. I think that is because his job is exhausting. But I also think it has to do with Noah not being able to filter sounds, stimuli, the inability to process things like an NT. I think Noah suffers from a high level of empathy, this combined with sensory processing issues results in someone who’s constantly trying to filter them out and failing. Resulting in chronic fatigue, turning to other means of dealing (Alcoholism), impatience, etc.

He also seems to have trouble regulating his emotions, as we see with his frequent snaps and jabs at Stiles but he also seems to try and be better about it and regret it when he does snap. We also know that in order to numb his pain and his emotions Noah turned to Alcohol to cope, as sad as it is, this is common in people with ADHD. Who often turn to substances to cope with their symptoms and their inability to regulate themselves, anything to numb all the feelings and their own shortcomings. Noah seems to have fallen into that trap too.

-

I think my favorite moment in this scene comes right after with this face:

And the question of; “Why is Jackson the Kanima?”

Which tells me a few things.

1. After everything, that’s the first question he truly asks as he leans back and tries to process things.

2. This may point to an inability to prioritize tasks/thoughts, which is another symptom of ADHD-I. Which for Noah seems to occur when he’s not on the job or with people he trusts and doesn’t have to mask for. (He does this too when he asks Derek at the station; “But if he doesn’t have a mouth, how does he eat?”) Suggesting that this is a more regular occurrence than we see on the show.

And at this point, I can no longer concentrate on this since I’ve lost my hyper-focus. But I think I managed to compile a pretty decent list.

And that is why I think Noah Stilinski is Bisexual and has ADHD.

Tagging: @mostly-vo1d and @artemisa97 since they are usually involved in these things too. You don’t have to respond of course, but if you feel up to it, join in.

[ivory-sunflower]

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere. 

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless. 

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx 

29/11/2020

[untestxd]

(continued) // @wantslife​  07 .   a  kiss  to  say  what  you  can’t  say  aloud .

 i. ‘ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ, ʜᴜʜ?’.

Regret stung even now on his tongue. Like that rush of heat that sizzles away at flesh when you just can’t resist that first scorching bite of a pizza pocket. Mouth agape, gasping for air as you instantly rue such foolishness. He had snorted with laughter at the first sight of his fair-weathered friend’s radical new appearance. It had been the shock of it, more than anything. Scott didn't exactly ‘get’ the whole gender thing, not quite yet at least. Years later, when he was more travelled, he’d be more understanding of the matter. But you didn’t need to get why gravity worked to know it exists. No apple, no tree was needed to see that Adam looked so much more comfortable swamped in those grungy clothes of his. And he looked..better(?) for it too.  Was it the new-found confidence? The sheer ballsiness of it all to just.. own yourself? Despite what anyone thought? Finally, someone had been paying attention to Scotty, huh?

But truly, it was remarkable how little could change despite such drastic transformation. That long, dark, curly hair had been so easy to grab onto( weapon of choice in hand-to-hand fray) had vanished. Hell, it was shorter than Scott's own now. He, how had taken inspiration from his rock idols and decided to let it grow out in the last year, scraggly and untamed.

This was still him. Still Adam, despite artifice. The same dorky laugh.The same dorky smile. Did it shine brighter now? Was it because he could see more of the boy's face? Or was it that reclamation of identity? Or had he just forgotten how… radiant it could be?

Adam was still Adam, and Scott was still Scott. Something about that was comfortable, yet all the more off-putting. How could he have grown so much over one year? sᴜɴғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋʏ! Leave that prickly cactus in the shade.

ii. sᴛᴀʏ

Uneducated sailor, how weary you look with that map so clutched so tight in your hands. You look up at the stars, an endless barrage of light amongst inky nothingness. Your body feels so small, laid still against tattered planks of that lonely shipwreck. A black-eye, swollen and bruised is no eyepatch, fierce pirate (no matter how hard you pretend).

 Fingers can try to reach out, try to grab them—- but they were never yours to command. You’re adrift, lost cast out at sea; the stars cannot guide you home, you can’t chart them. Perhaps this is where you’re destined to drown, the deep is still far too deep for you.

ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴠᴀsᴛ! What lies there over the horizon? Fear no more, here returns the morning’s gentle break rippling gold over broken tide. Nourishing frozen bones and granting that merciful peak beyond the curvature. Land ahoy, you’re closer to home than you realised.

Be quick! The days grow shorter with each passing moment— before you know it, it’ll be gone again. You can plea for it’s company all you like, but remember; it is not the sun that orbits you.

iii. ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ɪᴛ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜs?

How unimpressed Scott had been when he rocked back up to school, only to have the nerve of being taller than him now. An inch or two would make all the difference. He was lankier in frame, where Scott’s stockier build hadn’t quite lost his baby-face just yet. A poor attempt at a moustache would begin it’s journey to mask those features. Trailing round the corridors, acceptance came in the typical form of jest and banter.

( Yeah well, at least my dick is still bigger than yours! ) Ever the eager ally, the ultimate wing-man, Scott Tibbs. (Always the bridesmaid and never the bride) He’d practically helped all of his friends get set up with someone else at parties. The prize for being in the know, knowing just what made people tick, and how to get other’s to tock. Was he covering up his own discomfort of such change in Adam? Overcompensating in order to mitigate that knot in his chest every time he smiled at him?

He was never one to get tongue-tied, he was the bane of every freshman English class. Reputation preceded even him, you could smell the fear on each frail book-humping bitch when his name is called from the register. A ghost haunting over inky scrawl.  (Scott…Tibbs? ..Are you related at all to Kevin Tibbs?)

Ditching 6th period together to enjoy the last of the day’s sun, smuggled contraband under the bleachers. He’d listen to the boy ramble about whatever sad-sack he had his heart set on this week. The unending serial that was Adam Stanheight. One who’s re-runs would never get boring.

(adam? really? wow. inventive. That’s what you’re going with? What you do? Get to the first page of the phonebook and give up? You coulda picked any name! Adam. Fuckin’ pussy name.  )

He’d do his best to play loyal comrade, clown and jester- but man it pissed him off whenever those assholes just…ditched him like that.  Didn’t they know how…lucky they were?

ɪᴠ. ɪᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴡᴀs

What’s wrong, Scotty? Where’s uh—-     that little girlfriend of yours gone?

Despite teasing sibling’s moniker, Scott had never seen Adam like that before. Not really. Crushes came and went, sure. Nina in 3rd grade, Lea in 7th. It was either him or Adam who usually screwed it up for him. Jealousy spiked in young boy’s strange choice of a friend, or simple mindless attempt to express his feelings in the only way he’d learned how; mindless repetition- teasing and hair pulling didn’t work on other kids like it did Adam. Sticky child could always hold his own, always fight dirty. Gap-tooth smile wide as they scrambled in the sand pit.

It was never the same. He always just felt like Adam got him. Listening to that goofy laugh as Scott jams out on air-guitar, insistent on listening to that one solo over and over until it burned into both of their minds. How it would mellow out years later, to the two just staring up at the ceiling, still listening to those same songs, content in shared silence.

Laying out on the mattress at home in dingy isolation, his brother in the next room with a group of ‘friends’ he’d never seen before. He’d shove those headphone on over his head and close his eyes tight. Sometimes it felt like Adam was still there. That Scott wasn’t here.

A teen boy is a teen boy regardless of anything; and it wasn’t unnoticeable that Adam’s body had begun to change. Ever the subject of teasing, a harsh twang of a bra-strap was met with grapple and loogie threatened dangling above Scott’s head. What had been such familiar gesture and interaction drove hormones wild. Hand accidentally grasped at soft tissue as he made his defence.

That was a no go. A NO GO.  It was weird! It was Adam. Like a brother to him, spit-shared handshakes cementing brotherhood on glorious summer nights.

But, Adam had changed.  Everything had changed now. It was…different. Now he was like a real brother. And where ignorance twist with feelings left the stupid boy feeling even stupider. Those.. feelings hadn’t gone away. Infact, they’d only grown stronger- but now repression fuelled (gasoline drenched) in other matter’s of Scott's own identity. Did this change anything? Everything?

-- And here he find himself again in Adam’s room. Man, there had been so much he’d missed out on in the last year. Somewhere between what Dru said to Elliot, to Rhi, to River—- all of it had been so busy. And all so meaningless. But he had to stay in the know, right? And whatever minute he spent ranting and raging on about teenage drama bullshit, he wasn’t thinking about just how close he was sat to the taller teen. Wasn’t thinking about how soft that smile looked on his features. Wasn’t letting his eyes falter down ever now and so often as grin tugged corners on his own. 

 He gets into his own story, with all the theatrics that came with it. But he was caught, frozen still like a screenshot captured at just the right time. He hadn’t seen it coming, and he certainly hadn’t expected it.It’s soft, and it’s warm. His words are stolen as he feels Adam kiss him, tender lips plush against his own dry smile. 

He sort of freezes up, system rebooting, trying to figure out what on Earth had just occurred. Adam… had kissed him. He was kissing him. Scott was..kissing him back. It was a rush of emotion that the wanna-be rockstar had never at once considered—- but, this was happening. This was happening? He tastes.. sweet. He isn’t quite sure what he’s meant to do, though in instinct lets lips part just a little to catch him back

Scott Tibbs, was this your…first kiss?

No, no. Of course not. This was Scott Tibbs we were talking about here. Bad-boy, deviant, nuisance. Disrupter of class, the clown everyone wanted at their party.He had plenty of friends he’d helped hook up together. Surely.. he’d done far more than even just kiss someone, right?Wrong. With all the shit that had been going on in his life, he had sort of forgotten about getting to this chapter with someone, somewhere, for himself. And his inexperience was put on display painfully here as hands freeze in previously gesticulated motion. Does he close his eyes? Does he keep them open? Does he do something? He pulls away, cherry-stained taste lingering on his lips wordlessly. What.. what does he say? What does this mean? What…? What?? He doesn’t know if this is good or it’s bad. No, this certainly wasn’t bad. This was just. A lot had changed. He swallowed, eyes wide as he scan’s Adam’s features for some sort of answer, like it would be etched somewhere in that face of his.  But it wasn’t in his smile. It was…it was in the kiss. The answer was there somewhere, on the… tip of the tongue?

ᴠ. ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

And he knows. So he does. And he smiles.

@wantslife​

[revchainsaw]

Buffy: the Vampire Slayer (1997)

Season 1

Hello and Welcome back my creepy congregation! We will be taking todays service from the Big Screen into your living room for our first Personal Devotional. That's Right! We're reviewing full seasons of television series now and what better way to bring the spirit of the genre film to the idiots lantern that with the 90s Television sensation and all around love letter to the horror genre, Buffy the Vampire Slayer!

The Message

Regardless of how one may feel about Mr. Whedon we can't deny how much we love Buffy Summers and the Kids who live and die in Sunnydale! Season one of Buffy was a spin off/reboot of the earlier film and an attempt by Whedon to course correct the franchise by breathing a little charm and attention into the subject matter.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Season 1) focuses on Buffy Summers, a not so typical California high school student who, due to the events of the movie, has been relocated to Sunnydale High. Buffy is not just a cute, athletic, teenage girl looking to enjoy the prime of her life, though she is those things, she is also the Slayer, an anointed warrior who has been reincarnated throughout the generations to protect our vulnerable weak human world from the forces of evil; particularly Vampires. Buffy is a sort of supernatural Captain America, that is a peak human being, but instead of Nazi Science she was born with her powers.

Joining Buffy are; High School outcasts Willow and Xander (a nerd and a nice guy respectively), The ridiculously sexy librarian Rupert Giles (her mentor, guardian, high school librarian, and all around precious papa bear), Jenny Calendar (a technopagan computer teacher armed with all the mystery an ignorant 90s boomer could attribute to the internet), Angel (Spoiler: He's a Vampire, but he's a good guy. A hunky, broody, good guy vampire love interest), and her loving but entirely oblivious mother. The Scoobies as they have come to be called aid Buffy in her quest to protect Sunnydale from Dark Forces.

And Speaking of those Dark Forces, they are primarily vampires, led by the Master; an ancient vampire who resembles to some degree Nosferatu and a Bat, a look that Guillermo Del Toro would later perfect in his own series the Strain. The Master seeks to fulfill an ancient prophecy that would open the Hellmouth (a portal to hell, exactly what it sounds like) and free him in order that he and his kind should conquer the world.

The first season is fairly short consisting of the following adventures.

1. Welcome to the Hellmouth - Buffy moves to Sunnydale seeking to leave her Vampire ways behind, but the vampires just won't let her catch a break.

2. The Harvest - Vampire Shenanigans continues. Buffy learns of the Master.

3. Witch - A fellow Cheerleader is possessed by her witchy mom.

4. Teachers Pet - Buffy vs Giant Mantis

5. Never Kill a Boy on the First Date - Buffy vs the Anointed One (Not Really)

6. The Pack - Buffy vs Hyena Possessed High School Bullies

7. Angel - Buffy vs Angel but actually Darla

8. I, Robot ... you, Jane - Buffy vs Internet Demon

9. The Puppet Show - Buffy and Sid the Dummy vs Organ Harvesting Demon

10. Nightmares - Buffy has bad dreams

11. Out of Mind, Out of Sight - Buffy vs Invisible Nerd

12. Prophecy Girl - Buffy vs The Master (also Buffy Dies)

Overall the short season, while not allowing for too much world building, kept the show to a format that allowed very little filler. So although we mostly only get vampires as villains, we don't have enough time to really be bored of it. Some of the shows dynamics and cultural concerns definitely date the series but overall Season 1 of Buffy is definitely not a difficult watch, and can be enjoyed over and over again.

Let's get to the Benediction:

Best Character: Slay Girl, Slay!

As far as season one goes the titular Buffy Summers is the best character. Sarah Michelle Gellar is absolutely charismatic in the lead role and though at times she may seem selfish or reckless it makes perfect sense for the character. The character is allowed to be weak, to be selfish, and to be unlikeable. She avoids the foibles of a Luke Skywalker or a Harry Potter. She joins the ranks of primary protagonists who are not constantly outshined by their supporting cast. I believe when Buffy is sad, I believe when she throws a punch, I believe she struggles with her destiny. The only thing I don't believe is how ditsy she let's on.

Best Actor: Head's Up!

Anthony Stewart Head. Head as Giles is just fantastic. His balance of frustration with Buffy and genuinely parental concern is heartwarming and absolutely makes Giles one of the warmest father figures in television history.

Best Episode: A 'Master'ful Finale

It all builds up to Prophecy Girl and for good reason. Television shows often have mini-finale's at the end of their first seasons because the teams behind the series are not sure they will have a chance to tell more of their story. For that reason you can see just the first season of most television series and feel like you've heard the whole deal. I wish this habit was kept up in other seasons as we wouldn't still be wondering what the hell happened to Joel at the end of the Santa Clarita Diet. Buffy is no exception to this phenomenon and therefor attempted to tie up much of it's narrative in Prophecy Girl. While that often means big bads will be dispatched, I think it's a small price to pay for not winding up in a cliff hanger. Buffy and Giles just shine in this episode, Angel is given a more heroic role, Willow finally values herself as she should and Xander stops being a fucking horrible human being for once. This episode really satisfies in all areas.

Best Villain: Sweet, Sweetheart Killer

It's such a shame that Darla was killed so early on in the franchise. She is such a great presence on the screen that she overshadows all the villains that play alongside her, even the Master. I would have loved to have seen an alternate season where she offs the old coot and assumes the role of big bad much like Spike does in Season 2. Lucky for everyone that Darla is featured throughout the show in flashbacks and I hear she is even resurrected in Angel. Also, for Scott Pilgrim fans I feel like she and Envy Adams are very much sympatico. Maybe if they reboot Buffy all my dreams will come true.

I'd also like to take this time to recommend the song Angels and Darlas by Say Hi! It's pretty good.

Best Monster Design: Internet Troll!

While I can't speak for where the money in Season 1 of Buffy went, I can say that at least some decent cash was spent on both the forms of Moloch the Corruptor from the Episode "I, Robot ... You, Jane". Moloch was pretty wicked looking as a machine toward the end of the episode, he looked like a Mortal Kombat villain, but it's the green scales and ram horns the actor is sporting at the beginning of the episode that really catches the eye. In fact, I'm feeling compelled to hunt down any Moloch the Corruptor merch that may be out there on the internet. It's certainly no mystery why the demon's face is featured prominently in the theme song. It just looks great! Good job to the make up department there.

Most WTF moment: "Pack"s a Punch on Principle

While not the greatest episode in season one "the Pack" is certainly worth the watch if for no other reason than the horror is kicked up when a group of high school students under the influence of a malevolent Hyena God, decide that the School Mascot is not enough to satisfy their bloodlust turn on the principal, and yes, THEY EAT HIM. I remember being completely caught of guard the first time I saw that scene, and it kickstarted the running gag of Sunnydale high principles meeting their demise in horrific ways.

Worst Character: No More Mr. Nice Guy

When I was in college I often felt bad for Xander. The funny guy who just had no luck with women. He was sarcastic but had a big heart, and used a horny gimmick to mask his loneliness, or so I thought. But now I am older, I am wiser, I have known the touch of another human being and I have to say that Xander Harris is a really scummy fellow. I don't remember thinking so poorly and I wonder if the character develops a more nuanced view of women as the show goes on. As it stands there's barely a point in the series that Xander does not view the female cast as objects for him to enjoy or be embittered towards for one reason or another. It's not charming, it's foul. Xander Harris of season one is absolutely a terrorist attack waiting to happen, if Buffy had happened today it would be much more concerning to see someone so embittered, horny, and entitled to womens time and energy as Xander Harris. Dude is one step away from pulling an Elliot Rogers. Calm down buddy and maybe actually listen to a woman and you may find you aren't as much of a 'nice guy' as you think.

Worst Episode(s): If you're not first ...

It's a toss up on this one. Season One of Buffy is actually so short and concise that the 'Monster of the Week' episodes will have to be up for grabs as the worst episode by default, but even they are pretty watchable and don't warrant the vitriol a "worst" dub usually entails. I'd say there is not a worst episode of season one, just some episodes that aren't as good as the rest. In that vain, take your pick from "Witch", "Out of Mind, Out of Sight", or "The Puppet Show". However, I'd be doing a disservice to those episodes not to mention that each one of them takes what could just be a basic Buffy Vs (insert Villain), and does something unique and interesting with the idea. The villain of "Witch" actually turns out to be a has been cheerleader actually possessing the body of her innocent daughter to relive her glory years, The Invisible Girl is actually the victim of social cruelty, her peers disinterest in her manifesting in her condition becoming quite literal and she is picked up by the military in the end, then the Puppet show, well, it's just about the stupidest most absurd thing that could possibly happen and it's completely unafraid of that fact.

Summary:

Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Season 1) is not the most groundbreaking TV, but it is absolutely evident why the show was such a phenomenon. Season 1 is particularly rewatchable. It does not demand too much investment or attention, but it will get it from you, especially on a first viewing. It's not afraid to take itself absolutely seriously or to plant it's tongue firmly in it's cheeks. It is to a degree a product of it's time, but in many other aspects feels timeless.

Overall Grade: B

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right? 

Warning(s): some angst, some emotional and mental turmoil… some bad language words... much fluff

Author’s Note: It’s Christmas in July! This is the second in the Supernova Series -- an AU wherein Bucky Barnes gets the girl, and a chance at a new life after finding Steve post-Winter Soldier. -- and it all begins with their first Christmas together.

“Yeah, I know,” he hears her say, voice muffled behind the door. Then, “I know. I didn’t forget,” after a long pause. She must be on the phone, he realizes when no other voice sounds in response. He knocks lightly before letting himself in.

“I will,” she says in an exasperated tone as she turns to face him, showing him a one minute finger. “I promise.”

He sets the grocery bags down on the counter and starts to unpack them while she finishes her call.

“Yes. I love you too,” she intones with a slight laugh. “Okay. Merry Christmas.” And she hangs up the phone. “What is all this?” she says with forced cheer as she turns back to face him.

“I’m making you dinner,” he mumbles, as he twists around, looking for somewhere on the cluttered countertops to set things down. “This place is a disaster.”

She pulls up a stool at the breakfast bar, rests her chin on her hand, and watches him work. His brow furrows in either confusion or disgust, or maybe both, as he shifts piles of papers and empty cans and bottles to make room.

He looks up at her and notices a melancholy, far off look in her eyes as she follows his movements. “Who do you love?” he asks simply.

She startles a bit. “What?”

“On the phone,” he states, pulling out a garbage bag from the cabinet. “You said, I love you too.”

He starts to toss the bottles and cans into the bag. “I’m recycling those,” she says, pointing to the trash in his hands. “Don’t throw them in with the trash.”

“Recycling,” he utters under his breath. It’s still a new concept to him. Of course so is all of the plastic people use nowadays. “You shouldn’t drink this crap anyway,” he says, holding up a few empty energy drink cans. “It’s poison.”

She rolls her eyes. “You sound like Natasha.”

He ties up the now full trash bag and stops everything else to gaze at her. She looks down, has for days. The holidays can have that effect on people, he’s no stranger to it himself. But he misses her smile. “So, who do you love?” he asks again, an impish quality to his voice.

“Just a friend,” she singsongs. “No need to worry.”

“I wasn’t worried. I just thought you might be talking to your family.”

She sighs, long and drawn out. “Yep. My family.”

“Or is it just a friend?”

“Same thing, I guess,” she says before propping herself up on the stool and leaning over the bar to look at the food he’s unpacked. “What are you making me?” she asks, clearly eager to change the subject.

“Christmas dinner,” he says with a nod. He turns around to flip on the oven and begins rummaging through the cabinets of the small galley kitchen. He comes up with a couple of small pots and a large roasting pan that she honestly didn’t know were even in there. Pepper had made sure that everyone’s apartment was fully stocked before they moved in. But she’d been here for more than two years now and had never come across those items before. Of course, she didn’t often go looking for cooking utensils. What would be the point in that when there was a perfectly good cafeteria downstairs and a common area upstairs that was always stocked with food?

“Christmas is tomorrow. And I think Tony’s expecting everyone in the grand hall,” she says, referring to the small ballroom just below the penthouse where their parties were typically held.

“Well,” he says turning to face her, leaning his hip against the oven, “tonight is our Christmas.” He shoots her a sly but genuine smile and she can’t help but return the expression.

“And you can do that?” she asks, leaning so far over the bar that she’s practically crawled on top of it. She’s looking through the piles of fresh vegetables and herbs that he’s laid out on the counter beneath the bar. “You know how to cook all of this?”

He walks over and lightly slaps her hands away. “Yeah, Tess. I can cook carrots and potatoes.” He side-eyes her as he gathers the produce and takes it to the sink. “You really have no idea how to cook anything, do you?”

She shrugs. “Never really came up.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I never really had to learn.”

She never talked about her family or where she came from or how she grew up. And other than a few questions here and there – because he was genuinely curious – he never pushed. It was obvious that her past was a bit of a sore subject, and no one understood that concept better than him.

She leaves her perch and comes to stand beside him at the sink. “You wanna wash these?” he asks, handing her some carrots. She takes them and runs them under the water. “You know how to peel?” he inquires, holding a potato in front of her.

“I can probably figure it out.”

He sets her up at the sink with a vegetable peeler – which she’d never seen either, oddly enough – and moves to the opposite corner to start prepping the chicken.

“Your mom taught you how to cook?” she asks quietly.

He nods, “She did. She said that she’d feed me ‘til I was 18, then I was on my own. And since she didn’t expect that I’d find a good woman to take care of me for a long time, I’d better learn how to fend for myself.”

Tessa laughed lightly. “Sounds like she knew you well.”

Bucky smiles to himself as he thinks back, remembering his mother’s words, her coy, crooked smile as she said them. “Yeah, she did.”

“I never knew my mom,” she says so softly, he almost doesn’t hear her. “Or at least I don’t remember her.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder at her and sees that she’s still bent over her potatoes, hyperfocused on peeling them just so. She makes no move to look at him, and he’s pretty sure that’s by design. It’s almost a test – seem too eager to know more and she’ll shut down completely, say nothing at all and she might never bring up her family again. He plays this game himself sometimes, not on purpose of course, but he’s noticed himself doing it just the same. Over the last year, since being brought into the fold here, he’s become more aware of how his struggles with his past affect those around him.

“Who raised you?” he asks, turning back to the chicken. It seemed safer to ask something like his than to push her on what happened to her mother.

“My grandfather for a while. Then Scott and Alex took us in.”

“Us?” he asks. He hears the peeler hit the side of the sink as soon as he says it, and he shuts his eyes, mentally kicking himself. She was talking and now he’s gone and ruined it. Is this how people feel around me? he wonders briefly.

She’s silent for a long moment as she retrieves the peeler and rinses it off. “Me and my sister,” she says finally, the words clipped short.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Maybe we come back to that later, he thinks to himself before asking, “Who are Scott and Alex?”

“My brothers,” she volunteers, this information coming out a little easier. “Well, adoptive. Sort of. After my grandfather died… no one wanted us. We didn’t have any other family. And no one would adopt a mutant.” She stops for a moment and he thinks that she might be done talking altogether. He’s just about to ask something else, anything else, just to keep her going, when she starts up again. “Most mutants don’t see their powers develop until puberty. I was four when it started. My grandfather never told anyone. But… I don’t know… I was just a kid… I don’t know how people found out. But Scott found us, or we found him. We met in a children’s home outside of Chicago. He was an orphan too. And Alex.” Bucky turns around to see her, watch her as she slowly, carefully peels each potato while talking about her brothers. “Scott was 15 at the time and he was just trying to find Alex, who’d aged out of the system.” She sets the peeler down and looks up at the cabinet in front of her, clearly gazing at nothing as she recalls, “He took care of us. He became our big brother. And when Alex found him and said he was taking him away to some school in upstate New York, Scott said that we needed to go with them.” She braces herself on the counter and shakes her head at the memory. “It was more… complicated than that, of course. But eventually Alex was able to become our legal guardian – after the Professor pulled a ton of strings. And then… well, I grew up at that school.” She turns around to face him, not at all surprised to see him watching her from across the small kitchen. “Hence not knowing how to cook.”

“So it was like a boarding school?” She nods. “I always thought you’d have to be crazy to go somewhere like that. I always figured they were like the Army, like basic training, only with more books and tests.”

She laughs a bit and leans back on the counter before saying, “Sometimes, maybe.” Then, shaking her head slightly, “It was a good place. With good people.”

He considers only briefly whether or not to ask the question begging to be asked. “So why are you here then? At Christmas… why aren’t you with your family?”

She looks at him long and hard before saying in a measured tone, “Same reason you aren’t with your family. They’re all dead.”

He sees the pain in her eyes when she says it, but he can also see the resolute tilt of her chin, the firm line of her lips. She’s doing all she can to make it seem okay, to fight off the sadness. That’s a trick he knows all too well. He looks away, knowing he can’t do anything to take away her pain breaks his heart. “I’m sorry,” he says simply.

She merely nods in response. “So,” she breathes out after a moment, “am I supposed to cut these up now or something?” She indicates the peeled potatoes on the counter.

He pushes off of the counter and goes to fill a large pot with water. “Nope,” he says, placing the pot on the stove and holding his hand out for them. “Now we boil them.”

She wrinkles her nose while handing over the potatoes. “Boil them?” she asks with a face. “That sounds gross. Are you sure we aren’t supposed to fry them or something?”

He chuckles. “Don’t you know how mashed potatoes are made?”

She thinks for a moment, making a totally new, completely adorable face. “From a box?”

“You’ve got a lot to learn, doll,” he laughs, shaking his head.

She scoots a bit closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder. “So you boil them and then you mash them?”

“Basically. Add butter and cream,” he replies, leaning his head onto hers.

“We’re not boiling the chicken, are we?”

He smiles wide. “No room in the pot.”

She steps back suddenly, cocking her head at him in an assessing way. “This isn’t my Christmas present, is it? A sarcastic cooking lesson?”

“You were expecting a present?” he asks, unable to hide the coy smirk on his face.

She rolls her eyes at him rather dramatically and he steps away from the stove to stand directly in front of her. His hands fall to her hips as he presses his forehead into hers. “Presents are for later,” he says softly. “It isn’t Christmas yet, remember?” He pulls back a bit and places a kiss on her crown. “And I’m not giving you a lesson. I’m making dinner.” He gives her a little shove with his left hand as he turns her toward the kitchen doorway. “You are going to take a bath,” he says, all but forcing her out of the room.

“Why? Do I stink?” she tosses over her shoulder with a wink.

“I don’t trust you in here. Go relax.”

She leans back over the breakfast bar on her way to the bathroom and says, “It’s been a long day. You might want to check on me to make sure I don’t fall asleep in there.”

He glances back at her and notices just how tired she looks. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says before throwing his chin in the direction of the bathroom in a shooing manner.

                                                          000

An hour later, she’s back in the kitchen, this time cutting up apples for a pie. “Can’t you buy this stuff in a can?” she asks before letting out a long drawn-out yawn.

“That’s disgusting.” He absently scoots a little closer to her, unconsciously drawn to the clean honeysuckle scent clinging to her damp hair. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

She snorts out a laugh. “Just because it’s harder doesn’t mean it’s better. I’ve eaten ready-made pie filling before. And it was delicious.”

He stops pressing the dough into the pan and turns to face her, a look of utter horror on his face. “You ate pie filling?” he asks. She nods without glancing up. “As in, just the filling?”

“It was college. I was poor. Those cans were cheap.” She tosses the last pieces of apple into the bowl between and them and cocks her head in his direction. “I had a can opener. I had a spoon. And I have to tell you, that shit is de-licious.”

He shakes his head as though he might be able to fling the thought of her eating that crap out of a can like a deranged homeless person right out of his head. “We’re never speaking of this again.”

They work in silence as she tosses the apples with the melted butter and sugar he set out and he checks the potatoes. It’s nice. He can’t remember the last time he cooked a big meal like this. And while he and Steve sometimes have to dodge each other in their kitchen while putting together meals, he hasn’t really cooked with anyone in a long, long time. Actually, this whole evening reminds him of cooking with his sister. Being so much younger, she was always at a bit of a loss for what to do. Like Tessa, she turned her nose up at raw chicken, couldn’t fathom how myriad ingredients came together to make food, and spent a good deal of time pilfering anything mixed with sugar.

“If you keep eating them, there won’t be anything to fill the pie with,” he says softly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

She holds her hands up in mock surrender and takes a step back from the counter. He hears the apple crunch in her full mouth and can’t help but snicker as she attempts to choke down the evidence. “I’m hungry,” she whines then. “I can smell the food, but I can’t eat the food. It’s terrible.”

He dumps the apples into the pie pan before she can go back for more, sets the pie aside and washes his hands. “It’s almost ready,” he says, reaching for her. “You’re being very patient.”

She snuggles into his chest as his arms wrap around her. “Thank you for noticing,” she says with a smirk.

It’s actually more than hour before they can eat, but that isn’t entirely his fault. Yeah, the chicken took a little longer than he thought, but she’s the one who got a call and ducked out for “just a second” to check on something happening in the lab.

“Helluva second,” he says to her as she stomps back into the apartment almost an hour late. He has the table set and is sitting there with a beer in his hand and a smug smile on his face.

“I’m starving,” she drawls out, dragging herself dramatically over to the table.

“Why is anyone even up there?” he asks, referring to the research lab upstairs. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

She slumps into the seat across from him, rests her elbows on the table and drops her head into her hands. “It’s Stark Industries. Places like this are built on people who work holidays. Well, people who work all days, really. Every. Single. Day.”

“I remember having Christmas dinner with Howard,” he says, a far-off look gleaming in his eye for just a moment as he grasps at the old memory. “I think.” The memory is fuzzy, like so many others. But he’s sure that Howard was there, sure that he bought in turkey and roast potatoes and red wine – damn the rationing. He’s sure that he stood and gave a speech that lasted at least 10 minutes, even if he can’t recall a word that was said.

“Are these my plates?” she asks, pulling him from his reverie.

He looks up to find her examining the china closely, confused look on her face. He reaches over and plucks the plate from her hands. “They were in the top cupboard,” he says. “You’re probably too short to ever been able to find them.” He picks up his dish too and goes into the kitchen to prepare their plates. When she makes a move to get up to follow him, he turns and throws up his left hand in a stop gesture, waggling his index finger as a directive for her to sit back down.

“I’m not short,” she mumbles, resuming her head-in-hands position at the table. “I’m above average height for a woman.”

“Well then maybe you were too busy eating out of cans like a hobo to notice that you had fine china,” he intones from the kitchen.

“No one says hobo anymore.” She’s raises her head to look at the table in front of her, see if the silverware is at least the same that she normally uses. It is. The wine glass in front of her is a utensil she is more than familiar with. She perks up a bit, noticing the light liquid inside. “What’s this?” she asks, picking up the glass and taking a large inhale. Oaky. And… peachy?

“I don’t know,” he replies, returning and setting a full plate in front of her. “But the lady at the store said it was good.”

“It is,” she declares, as the just-dry-enough chardonnay slips down her throat.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turns up in a small, crooked smile as he takes his seat across from her. “Good.” He looks over at her and watches her eyes close as she takes another sip. He can tell that she’s enjoying the wine, and he’s pleased about that, but he can also see the exhaustion on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the puffiness of her lids. “Eat,” he directs, more than a little upset with himself for telling her it was fine to go check in at the lab.

She sets down her wine glass and picks up her fork with an excited, almost beaming expression on her face. They eat in silence for several minutes, Bucky eating like a normal person and Tessa shoveling mashed potatoes into her mouth like a starving toddler.

“You’re gonna choke,” he says finally, laughing.

Her mouth is full when she replies. “No.” Then, following the massive gulp, “I didn’t know this was what mashed potatoes were,” she says with a big, dumb smile. “And the chicken too…” He looks down as the food in front of him, averting his eyes as an unwelcome blush takes over his face. “It’s soooo good.”

“It’s really not that hard,” he says, shyly shuffling the vegetables on his plate with his fork.

He feels the top of her bare foot slowly creep up his leg as she says, “I’ve never had a guy make dinner for me before.”

“Really?” he asks incredulously. Her foot continues to slowly stroke his calf, which only adds to the redness in his cheeks.

“Well, Steve made me pizza once. And chicken soup. Oh and we experimented with sushi one night,” she recalls, waving her fork in the air. “But I guess that doesn’t really count.”

He looks up at her pointedly. “It better not.”

“Does that mean that pizza and sushi don’t count as dinner or that Steve doesn’t count as a guy?”

“Yes,” he says simply, feeling his cheeks cool as the sound of her laughter fills his ears.

Her foot has made the move from his calf to his inner thigh, and while the blush of embarrassment may no longer be on him, another awkward-for-dinner-time feeling is starting to take over. “You have no idea,” she starts in a low, seductive voice, “how much I’m looking forward to filling my mouth,” she continues, leaning forward, her toes creeping along the inseam of his pants, “with that apple pie.”

Her foot drops suddenly as she leans back in her chair, popping another bite of chicken into her mouth with a smug, satisfied smirk. He rolls his eyes as a deep chuckle emits from his chest. “You are…”

“Amazing?” she tries, mouth still full. He shakes his head and purses his lips like he’s trying to come up with the right word. “Perfect?” she asks with a swallow.

“Definitely not.”

“Beautiful?”

“Not quite what I was thinking.”

She sighs long and deep. “Brilliant? Sexy? Smart? Loyal? Coquettish?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Honestly, I just keep coming back to amazing,” she says with a shake of the head.

He gazes at her from across the table, crooked smile slowly widening as she takes another bite and lets out a tiny blissful moan. “I was going to say a real jerk. But I like amazing,” he says with a nod. “It fits.”

“Yeah, it does,” she says with a smirk.

They finish the meal without words, just enjoying the food and enjoying knowing that the other is sitting right across the table. As soon as Bucky leans back in his chair, plate clean in front of him, Tessa gets up to collect the dishes. His hand comes up and takes hold of her wrist when she reaches in front of him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and easily slipping his grasp. “Need another beer?” she asks, grabbing the empty bottle along with the plate. He nods happily and settles back in his chair.

His gaze drifts towards the window as she heads into the kitchen. “It’s snowing,” he says, almost to himself. He hears the clatter of dishes hitting the sink and cringes. “You okay in there?”

She appears suddenly around the corner, beer in hand, bright smile on her face. “It isn’t Christmas without snow,” she says, completely ignoring his question. She offers him the bottle and he grabs her wrist instead and pulls her into his lap.

“So what was Christmas like at mutant military school?” he asks as she settles herself in.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Quiet. Quieter anyway. A lot of the kids would go home for the holidays.” She takes a quick swig of his beer and lays her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know,” she repeats before going silent.

He brings up his right hand up to her head and runs his fingers through her hair. “I remember snowball fights,” he says. “And my mom yelling at me about catching pneumonia after coming home with wet mittens.” He chuckles a bit at the memory, but feels a surge of sadness at the same time. Because it’s one of just a handful of memories he still has of his mother, and of his childhood in general.

“Will you cook me Christmas dinner every year?” she asks softly.

He can hear the hesitation in her voice and it makes his chest constrict a bit. They don’t talk about the future. He’s still not entirely sure that someone like him can even really have a future. And sometimes he thinks she feels the same way about herself. But there’s not a doubt in his mind that if he gets a real chance at a future at all, she’ll be in it. “Every year,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on her head.

She turns in his lap to face him. “We could go have a snowball fight, if you want,” she says with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Work up an appetite for pie?”

He laughs heartily and she takes that as a yes, jumping up from his lap and running into the bedroom to find her boots. “It just started snowing,” he calls after her.

“I don’t care,” she yells back. Then, stumbling out of the bedroom as she struggles to get her boots on, “We can just take a walk until it builds up.”

He stands up and moves over to her, wraps his arms around her middle and pulls her in close. She hugs him tightly back, burying her face in his neck. He breathes in the honeysuckle scent of her shampoo, feels her fingertips grasp his shoulder. “I love you,” he says into her hair.

Without missing a beat, without even acknowledging that this was something new, something neither of them had ever said before, she grips him a little tighter and utters in return, “I love you too.”

[ruutless]

as i stare at scott, i know he's all i got

TW: it’s christmas, i’ve had two margaritas and i’m amazed at how easy it is for me to let go when there’s a bit of alcohol mixed up in my blood. when my nephew holds up my sister’s phone to my face and tells me to, “look at what kris said,” i’m pleasantly calm as i register the words: ***** behaved.

speaking to everyone at once, i briefly but forcefully, expel my disappointment at my fellow adult family members for speaking about me as though i’m still a child. i go ignored and move on instantly with whatever my nephew’s using to divert my attention. but when i feel my sister’s whisperings about me in the dining room to our mother, he loses his power over me and attempts to soothe me with an accepting, matter-of-fact, “people talk.” i get up from my seat, tell him he’s right and retreat into my cold, dark room to calm down. the alcohol mixed with the klonopin i’ve been taking makes it feel like the anger is screaming from inside a soundproofed room and i easily bring myself back to a wise mind once i remember i’m allowed to honestly be how i’m feeling. i typically lash out when my emotions rise up inside me but because the anger seems to be locked away somewhere quiet, i catch myself before i spin out and go back into the light. my sister says “dinner is ready,” and i sit in my usual seat at the dining room table, patiently waiting until everything is in front of me so i can fill my plate. i can tell my mother, who’s on my left, expects me to wait some more for her and everyone else and acting with philautia, i shove a forkful of roasted vegetables in my mouth before getting up to grab the bottle of sriracha from the kitchen cabinet. i squirt out a puddle of it onto the corner of my plate and dip a triangle of my sister’s homemade salmon patty in it so the bottom half is coated in sauce. the old me has me thinking i want to act like everything is okay but i’m sick of faking it and reminding myself i’m allowed to sit and eat, miserably in my seat, i do—my own chewing the only thing getting me through all the “fuck you” thoughts i begin to gladly acknowledge. when my sister attempts conversation, i wait a moment before realizing the muted anger has given me a chance to tell her with all my vulnerability, “i don’t want to talk.”

my nephew, who’s seven and can’t help himself says, “because of what kris said?” and i contemplate if ignoring him in order to protect him from feeling the depths of my sorrow is the right choice and right before it’s too late to say something, the silent, ink-brushed buddha hanging on the wall across from where i’m sitting, tells me i must speak up for myself. i can’t look at any of these people in the eyes—the intensity of my emotions make them feel threatened—so, when i answer my nephew, i speak to the buddha instead. i tell him, for everyone else to hear, “it makes me sad to know the people in my life treat me as though i don’t deserve an apology.” when i feel the weight of my truth settle into the minds of everyone at the table, i begin to cry, the pain i’d been feeling just a week or two ago still fresh in my heart and reawakened it deepens with the saddening knowledge that i’ll always be waiting for an apology.

my other sister—the one who texted about me as though i’m some unpredictable animal whose behavior requires supervision—has never been able to apologize for any of the hurtful things she does to me. choosing optimism, i let myself believe we could have a relationship now that we’re both adults and taking active steps to wield control over our toxicity. but i’m finally learning that having any expectations of her or the people she surrounds herself with is a waste of my energy. when she and her new, recycled boyfriend came over to help get the house ready for christmas, he lingered in my peripherals, observing me only to scathe my method of existence with his intrusive criticisms. reminding myself to keep it together for the sake of my two nephews but also unable to concentrate on what i was supposed to be doing, i decided to quietly snark at him: “you don’t have to say everything you think out loud, you know.” he was immediately defensive and before he knew what was happening, i used his own mind against him, making him remember about the day he yelled, “i don’t care what your name is, i’ll call you whatever i want,” and “get the fuck out of my house, no one wants you here anyway,” in my face. and just like that day months before, he once more boomed over my sister’s sarcastic, “babe, stop it”s, determined to gaslight me because his ego was panicking. exhausted from where i’d been with myself in my mind the week before, i chose to ignore him and went to sit by the fireplace. my sister surprisingly followed, leaving her boyfriend behind to loudly continue on with himself in the background, each empty word strengthening the flow of his denial. when i felt him grab hold of my sister as he drifted away in its peaceful stream, i muttered, “i can’t do this,” and left to be in my room where i dejectedly stripped down to my underwear and made myself shiver in the cold before i let myself crawl into bed to cry. after an hour or so of asking myself why no one seemed to care i wasn’t around, the suicidal visions i’d been having for the past week crept back in to tempt me with their tranquility. fighting against them, i got myself out of bed and screamed into the void for my entire family to hear before going into the bathroom and closing the door behind me to pee in the dark.

i had to leave the house for two hours after that, the rage grew so turbulent within me. i had no idea where i was going as i sped down the dimly lit highways out of troy, intentionally swerving toward the guardrail once, just to see how it felt. i decided i better find a place to park and ended up across the street from a bus stop outside a hannaford’s somewhere. desperate, i called a friend i could confess to about how i’d been feeling and when he advised, “avoid your sister’s boyfriend,” i wanted so badly to listen but when i got back home, i did the opposite and watched him jump, terrified in his own skin by the strength of my self-preservation. sick of hiding myself away—mostly because i was starving, i loudly threatened to slit his throat while i grabbed a knife to slice open a grapefruit. he willingly followed my sister outside, overwhelmed by his own fear-based emotions and as he left, the curse of my own self-awareness took over. i immediately apologized for hurting my other sister with my behavior and when she demanded more the next afternoon, i gave it to her, knowing it would be the last time she’d receive anything from me.

realizing i want to get away from my family, i contribute nothing more and quietly finish my supper, focusing on the inked buddha’s peaceful posture so i can tune out the voices of shallow conversation that tiptoe around my raw presence. when i make moves to leave the table, my sister asks if we could talk in the other room where she apologizes for the way she’d been texting with my other sister about me. i eventually tell her, “i want to be seen for what i can be, not what i have been or am going through,”and i notice that she’s about to cry and that part of me wants her to. when she holds herself together, i’m glad for us both because it proves i’m still the only one i know who knows how to believe.

but it’s better off this way, anyway.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I always think of you as Kristin Scott Thomas’ character Fiona in Four Weddings and a Funeral as a beautiful woman who is scarily clever and classy. So with my upcoming wedding (next year!) and especially wedding music I thought of you. I really would appreciate your advice on Mendelssohn or Wagner as they seem to be the traditional choices of music to play at a traditional church wedding. My fiancé isn’t bothered what music we play but I can’t decide. Please do help as I value your unvarnished truth.

Thank you for the flattering words which while well intentioned are nevertheless entirely misplaced.

Swiftly moving on, a sincere congratulations on your forthcoming wedding. I can only imagine how stressful it must be running around like a headless chicken trying to desperately organise everything. And desperate you certainly must be - perhaps even certifiably insane -  if you’re turning to me on Tumblr for advice!

I’m not married....yet ( oops! better get that caveat in before I am chastised by those who really know me)  but I am a wedding veteran - some would even say, a jaded one (thank you, mummy).

Every season there is a string of wedding invitations that I can’t turn down and I feel obligated to attend. While great fun, one wedding starts to blur into another especially when the champagne starts to copiously flow. I have my own thoughts on the good, the bad, and the tacky about wedding etiquette but I don’t want to disappear down that rabbit hole. Instead let’s talk about Mendelssohn and Wagner.

Both music pieces have traditionally struck a chord (pardon the pun) and have become a staple of traditional weddings since time immemorial.

Mendelssohn's ‘Wedding March’ was originally composed in 1842. He got there first.

Wagner's ‘Bridal Chorus’ came later in 1848. The ‘Bridal Chorus’ became a popularised piece to play at weddings around Europe after it was most memorably used as the processional at the wedding of Victoria, the Princess Royal to Prince Frederick William of Prussia in 1858. Nowadays - certainly in Britain and the US -  it is generally known as "Here Comes the Bride”.

I suppose the straight forward answer is that it doesn’t have to be Wagner vs. Mendelssohn. Why not both?  Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ can be used for the entrance processional of the bride walking down the aisle and the Mendelssohn ‘Wedding March’ for the recessional walk out of the church.

But you did say you wanted my ‘unvarnished truth’ so allow me the small luxury of an arm chair rant from the Coronavirus self-isolation of my Paris apartment. 

Of the two I would definitely ditch the Wagner piece. Please don’t misunderstood me. I am a huge fan of Wagner’s music - like any true Wagnerian I have taken more than one pilgrimage to Beyreuth - but in this case playing Wagner’s music would show a frightful ignorance of the meaning behind the ‘Bridal Chorus’ piece.  

I don’t know why more people haven’t picked up on this but I’ve always found it a terribly odd piece to play at a wedding especially as it originates from Wagner’s masterful opera, Lohengrin.

Wagner came upon the opera's inspiration around 1845 when he took interest in the legend of the Holy Grail through the poems of Wolfram von Eschenbach and the anonymous epic of Lohengrin. Composed by 1848, Lohengrin features "Bridal Chorus" as the prelude to a very short-lived, doomed marriage between Elsa and Lohengrin.

The famous ‘Bridal Chorus’ is lustily sung by women of the bridal party serenading Elsa to the bridal suite after the wedding in Act III. Elsa is not allowed to know her true knight’s true name and identity. But this is a romantic German opera and so of course Lohengrin is found out with dire consequences for all.  A sad Lohengrin ends up revealing that  he is in fact a knight of the Grail and son of King Parsifal, sent to protect an unjustly accused woman. The laws of the Holy Grail say that Knights of the Grail must remain anonymous. If their identity is revealed, they must return home. Lohengrin is lead back to the castle of the Holy Grail. Elsa is grief stricken at being left behind.  Poor Elsa (naturally) collapses and dies with a broken heart.

Charming.

To say it’s not the happiest of allusions of looking forward to a long life of wedded bliss would be an understatement.

However my objections against Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ goes beyond this. For one thing I find it rather too sombre - Oh dear God! Is marriage really like this?!

My main ire is that it overly used and therefore boring to listen to. And when one is bored the mind wanders.

In my case, without sounding malicious, my mind just drifts to whispering mischievous lyrics under my breath that go like, “here comes the bride, big fat and wide, here comes the groom, skinny as a broom.” Try as I might I can never get those words out of my silly mind whenever I hear the organ music playing “Here come’s the bride.” Not my finest hour.

Now Mendelssohn’s ‘Wedding March’ is different beast entirely. Beast being the operative word as we are dealing with Pagan deities.

Typically used in church wedding recessionals, the ‘Wedding March’ piece has sparked controversy due to its literary origins. The Prussian monarch Friedrich Wilhelm IV commissioned Mendelssohn to compose incidental music for many pieces that were based upon Greek mythology and tragedy in order to revive the genre of literature and performance. Among his commissions, in 1843 Mendelssohn composed a setting for William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream; the setting comprises twelve musical numbers and a finale. The plot of Shakespeare's play focuses on a pagan god and goddess and is filled with fairies, magic, and fantasy. Due to the piece's pagan, fantastic inspirations, some puritanical leaders and musicians - particularly in Roman Catholic churches - have found the piece to be inappropriate for a Christian religious ceremony. In its defence at least Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream was a comedy with a happy ending.

If you’re feeling traditional rather than puritanical then the joyous Mendelssohn ‘Wedding March’ might still be a great option either as a processional or recessional.

If you’re looking for options outside of either Wagner and Mendelssohn then it’s really a matter of exercising good taste alongside what suits the personal tone of your wedding.

Off the top of my head I keep coming back to Johann Sebastian Bach.

Bach’s many cantatas and fugues seem to tick all the boxes. In particular there is Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring (derived from the cantata Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, "Heart and Mouth and Deed and Life”). There is also the Toccata and Fugue in D minor ‘Dorian’ BWV 538 and the Toccata and Fugue in F Major, BWV 540.  Arioso in A flat for solo piano from Cantata No. 156 "Ich steh`mit einem Fuss im Grabe is softly elegant. A particular favourite piece of mine is Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten, BWV 202, the ‘Wedding Cantata’. Of course many would point out that Bach’s Ave Maria would be perfect for a processional but I would think twice about that. As beautiful as the piece is it is about the Virgin Mary after all and you may invite unwanted speculation from your guests if you are (cough) chaste.

Trumpet Tune in D by Jeremiah Clarke is a little more festive. Or consider his more famous Trumpet Voluntary ‘The Prince of Denmark's March’.

Charles-Marie Widor  was a fine composer and his Toccata (from Symphony for Organ No. 5) is spiritually intense for traditional organ music.

Eugène Gigout's famous Grand Chœur Dialogué might appeal to you as well.

G.F. Handel’s Water Music Suite - Air has a graceful and calming tone. The Arrival of The Queen of Sheba (Solomon) HWV 67 is upbeat and was made for a processional.

Beethoven’s Für Elise is perfect to calm last minute panic attacks before you go up the aisle.

And how can one forget Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?

The Serenade No. 13 for strings in G major, K. 525 or more commonly known as Eine kleine Nachtmusik KV. 525 - II. Romanze: Andante is a beautiful melody familiar to many and sets a soothing tone. Ave verum corpus, K.618 is profoundly spiritual and lifts your hearts up to the angels. ‘Alleluia’ from ‘Exsultate, jubilate’ is wonderful if you can get your hands on a competent soprano. If you are feeling more adventurous then the Spanish Wedding March from The Marriage of Figaro which might be to your taste. 

Elgar’s Salut d'Amour, Op. 12 is soft, inviting and makes one feel you’re in some 19th Century romance novel set at court.

Elgar finished the piece in July 1888, when he was romantically involved with Caroline Alice Roberts, and he called it Liebesgruss ('Love's Greeting') because of Miss Roberts' fluency in German. When he returned home to London on 22 September from a holiday at the house of his friend Dr. Charles Buck, in Settle, he presented it to her as an engagement present. The dedication was in French: à Carice. 'Carice' was a combination of his wife's names Caroline Alice, and was the name to be given to their daughter born two years later.

Edvard Grieg’s Wedding Day at Troldhauen, Op. 65, no. 6 is magnificently playful.

Jean-Joseph Mouret’s Rondeau from Sinfonie de Fanfares is a beautiful Baroque piece. What’s a wedding without trumpets that could be heard all the way into the heavens?

Gluck’s Dance of the Blessed Spirits from his Orfeo et Euridice can be an elegant choice to do a recessional. Perfect for sensitive souls.

Gabriel Fauré’s Pavane, Op. 50 is sublime. I can never get tired of listening to it. Would make a worthy piece as a processional.

I would also throw into the mix Gaetano Donizetti’s ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ (A furtive tear) is the romanza from Act II of his delightful opera L'elisir d'amore.

It is sung by Nemorino (a tenor) when it appears that the love potion he bought to win the heart of his dream lady, Adina, works. Nemorino is in love with Adina, but she is not interested in a relationship with an innocent, rustic man. To win her heart, Nemorino buys a love potion with all the money he has in his pocket. That love potion is actually a cheap red wine sold by a traveling quack doctor, but when he sees Adina weeping, he knows that she has fallen in love with him, and he is sure that the "elixir" has worked. It may not fit your idea of a processional but I would try and use it some where in your wedding - perhaps at the reception.

I feel guilty about trashing on Wagner and Mendelssohn so I will leave you with two final thoughts. Reconsider Wagner’s opera Lohengrin. Forget the Bridal Chorus but instead listen to the chorus ‘Gesegnet soll sie schreiten’ in Act II. The various horns give this chorus a dreamlike quality and you feel like you are floating on air. Mendelssohn’s On Wings of Song is a powerful and poignant piano piece and quite suitable to play as your guests away your arrival in church.

I am sure there are other great classical music pieces that I have neglected to mention but others reading this might give their thoughts in the comments below.

If knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit, then wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. So give careful and considered thought to what music you throw together into the mix as your church wedding processional and recessional.

Congratulations again and I hope it’s a special day for both of you and your families and friends.

Thanks for your question.

[halorocks1214]

the law of equivalent exchange

AO3 Link

Word Count: 4182

Just like all my other plot bunnies, this got three times longer than I estimated. Whoopsies. At least I’m fairly proud of this. Another title for this fic could be ‘something that I would love to see happen in the finale but know it won’t so I’ll just write it myself instead.’ I was probably going to write this fic regardless, but @gumnut-logic​‘s #FabFiveFeb just gave me one heck of a push to do so sooner than later. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings for The Hood being the creep he is and no-no words. There’s one F-bomb because I can’t seem to not have at least one.

“No! You can’t!”

Alan should probably be focusing on whatever the heck John was yelling at Scott for over the comms (let’s face it, Scooter, you haven’t been making the rashest decisions as of late), but he barely heard his older brother to begin with. With the blood rushing to his ears and his heart reverberating ten times faster than healthy throughout his entire body, all Alan could really focus on was trying not to pass out.

When his body decided to properly function, he tried reaching to turn his comms on as quickly as possible, but the figure he was praying to God to be a hallucination started talking, freezing Alan’s movements completely.

“Now then, Alan, let’s not be rash. I just want to talk. Is that so bad?”

Hand hovering over the button, Alan gulped down any fear he was wearing on his face to glare at The Hood directly in his eyes. If this was the stupid way he was going to go out, then he won’t be going out like a coward.

Against all of his training and judgment, Alan took his hand away from his comm and brought them calmly down to his sides. His whole stance was taut, and he at least hoped he looked more threatening than a lion cub play fighting with its siblings, “I don’t know, I would say it is considering who you are.”

The Hood chuckled, turning Alan’s stomach inside out. Alan just couldn’t understand this man. Ever. The way he slyly grinned as if he were some suave bachelor and not a creepy murderer. Alan tried desperately to cool the nausea in the pit of his gut as his family’s sworn enemy continued to speak, “As an honorable man even I have to admit defeat from time to time. You Tracys beat me fair and square, and the only way I caught up involved cheating. I was surprised I could sneak onto the ship as I did. Very well, Jeff Tracy is yours once again.”

Wait, what?

Alan blinked in shock before his brain caught up to him, making him bring back his glare, “There’s a catch here.”

The Hood raised his eyebrows at the way the boy spoke his words. It was not a question, no, the youngest Tracy stated them as if it were a matter of fact. The Hood’s smile grew wide, “You’re always quick on the uptake, Alan. Even if I lost this race, I did come out all this way. I can’t leave with nothing, not after all the time and effort I gave up. Surely, you understand that?”

Chills fled down Alan’s spine at the speed of the Zero-X. The gleam in The Hood’s eyes slowly morphed into hunger, like a starving lion about to make a move on an ill and weak zebra. Alan was pretty damn sure he wasn’t weak nor ill, and he didn’t feel like growing black and white stripes at the moment.

The Hood stood to his full height, “Have you ever heard of the saying “An Eye for an Eye”?”

Alan’s glare dropped off his face and went right back to the wide-eyed fear he had at the start, making him look a few years younger than he was. Screw looking fierce, he needed help. He needed his brothers.

Once again, he reached to get to his comms. Even if it were only one word, one second, one yelp of pain or fear, his brothers would realize something was wrong and come running. He hated it, occasionally, how he would always be seen as the baby, but if it meant getting home and away from this freak, then Alan was willing to be swaddled and rocked to sleep as much as his older brothers wanted.

However, that familiar cold voice spoke out once again, somehow stopping time itself in the process.

“Ah ah ah, Tracy, I thought I told you to be careful with that thing.”

Alan was breathing heavy, minute trembles beginning to show, “G-Give me one good reason I shouldn’t, you m-monster.”

The Hood’s grin turned playful as if what Alan wasn’t getting was supposed to be obvious, “Have you been listening to your brothers’ predicament at all?”

What did that mean?! Shaking his head, Alan, much to his displeasure, started to completely ignore The Hood so he could turn up his comms to listen. Crap, he forgot about why they were even out here! Why haven’t they finished the mission? Why haven’t they been able to find Dad? From the way The Hood was talking, Alan figured the older man was going to let the teenager writhe in agony as he listened to whatever he’d been missing.

Suddenly, a new, semi-unfamiliar voice boomed through Scott’s side of the comms.

“--head that way. If Johnny’s calculations are correct, it should be the path of least resistance.”

That was followed by a louder Scott responding with, “Yes, Father.”

Continued and ended with Virgil stating, “Lead the way, Dad.”

Alan blinked a few times again, the hand he was holding up over the comms suddenly very heavy and stuck in place. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t find it in himself to contact his brothers for help. That was-- it was--

The Hood gleamed with anticipation at the recognition in Alan’s eyes, “If I can’t leave with anything, no one is. I’m positive you don’t want to be the one to ruin this for the rest of your family, do you?”

Ask Alan and he could very easily explain to you that his life could be broken into two parts. The parts had very simple descriptors too: With Dad and Without.

The Zero-X went up in flames before Alan was even ten-years-old, leaving a broken family and a confused child. A child that reacted like any other kid to losing a parent so young. He was sad and scared and for a while he just wanted his Dad to come back, even though his little mind knew it wasn’t possible.

But as the years went on, Alan got used to growing up without his dad in his life. Of course, the blonde missed him, and of course, he would do anything to get him back, but the sad fact of life was that Alan didn’t grow up with Jeff.

He grew up with his four older brothers and his grandma and Kayo and Brains and even Penny and Parker--

You catch what he was saying?

They tried to fill in the gap of a missing father with their own stab at being mock parents for the youngest Tracy. Alan suspected later in life that they did it in an attempt to fill their own gaps and heartbreak.

He would later start to think they failed at that latter objective as well.

That’s where the second part of his life came in to view. His brothers had many, many more years with their dad that they had to realize they would never have again. Scott was trained by Jeff with tips and tricks that nobody else in the Air Force knew. Jeff personally recommended John to the best of the best at NASA. Jeff took Virgil to meet one of the best mechanics in the world at the age of 12. Jeff was at every single one of Gordon’s swim meets to cheer him on.

Alan remembered being tucked into bed and pictures being hung up on the fridge and gold stars for eating his vegetables, and he was going to love getting that back, but he remembered Scott giving him piggybacks even more. John proofreading his papers even more. Virgil letting him sit on the piano bench while the older brother practiced more. Gordon teaching him how to dive into the deep end even more.

He also remembered Scott hiding a bottle of “adult juice” from Alan’s wandering eyes more than once, too many grey hairs for someone in their mid-twenties. He remembered how John was gone more and more, flinching at more and more hugs, only to be swallowed whole by the endless void that is space and Thunderbird 5, barely even being planetside for more than a fourth of the year.

Alan remembered how Virgil got quieter and quieter. Alan remembered the tap shoes, the musical scripts: they were currently collecting dust in the back of a random closet, shoved behind weight lifting gear and medical textbooks instead. And Gordon, his immediate older brother, his partner in crime... Alan wasn’t stupid. He knew Gordon dropped out of college and even the Olympics (after getting a freaking gold medal too!) to join WASP where he was nearly put in a goddamn chair.

Alan has been slowly watching his family barely try to hold it together, and it all started with dark laughter and a ball of fire over the ocean.

His brothers needed their father back, and no doubt Jeff wanted his sons back. Alan would hope he would want all of them too, but...

... After everything his brothers (and even Kayo and Brains and Grandma) have given up, surely Alan could give back, even if it’s just this one thing? Besides, Alan would hate himself forever if he was the reason they couldn’t complete their mission. He tends to feel that way on a failed missions anyway.

Yeah, right, the mission objective: get Dad back. Think of the mission, think of the mission. If that mantra was the only thing that was going to keep him convinced he was doing the right thing, then only he and The Hood would know.

Alan’s voice was breathy. It felt like if he spoke too loud the blood in his ears would make one final rush to try and bring him to la-la land, “... Do you promise?”

The Hood blinked and raised one eyebrow in a motion that spoke, ‘What did you just say? I wasn’t listening that hard in the first place.’

Alan’s trembling was more than minute, yet he forced his voice to be firm and steady this time. His glare was back to being fierce, and the fire in his eyes was redder than his ‘Bird. He enunciated just about every other consonant in his words, “If I go with you, do you promise to never go after them again? Because I know there’s no point in going with you if you just keep chasing them.”

The Hood stared blankly for a moment before his typical, creepy demeanor came back. With a few chuckles that brought physical bile up Alan’s throat, The Hood threw his arms out to his sides to make his point more clear, “Dear Alan, if you come with me there’s no point in doing so. There’s nothing I could do that could be worse.”

Jeez, way to kick a guy while he’s down. Alan flinched but continued to hold his head high, “I want your word.”

The Hood thinned his lips in disappointment. He still complied with Alan in the end, “Once you agree to come with me, I’ll take away what’s disrupting your unique vessel, leave your family alone for the rest of their lives, and then we’ll ‘get the heck out of dodge’ as you all say.”

Ew, that one was bad. He bet The Hood made it bad on purpose, the prick. Alan inhaled before exhaling the longest breath of his life, “Fine. Then you have a deal.” Like a true gentleman (Penny would be proud, right?), Alan held his hand out, initiating a handshake to seal the deal.

Then, suddenly, his watch started ringing. On the hand he was holding out. Alan found himself hating that noise for the first time in his life. Panicking, Alan made sure the hologram that appeared was himself and himself only, “H-Hey, brother! Did you find Dad yet?”

A familiar mop of ginger hair floated in between him and The Hood. Raising an eyebrow, John playfully rolled his eyes at his younger brother’s antics. Yes, let Alan play a little bit. They did just do the impossible, after all, “Actually, Alan, we did. Scotty and Virg are almost back with him. I was calling to let you know.”

That smile... the way John was sarcastically bantering with him... the nicknames... it was all because they were getting Dad back, wasn’t it? Alan felt tears mist his eyes. Their family really would be better off...

“Uh, Allie, you good?” Gordon’s voice rang out a few feet away from John

Crap crap crap. Bring it back, Alan, bring it back! “Uh-- yeah! Don't worry, I’m as cool as a cucumber in the middle of July! Hah...”

John’s eyebrow raise was no longer playful. In fact, it was filled to the brim with concern, “Are you sure? If you’re having trouble finishing up, Gordon could easily come up to help you out.”

Alan registered the strawberry blonde’s mmhhm with growing dread.

Dangit, guys, stop being such moms for once in your lives! “No! Wait--” Alan coughed into his hand to clear his throat. He looked away while doing so and then looked back at John with one of his familiar sly grins, “John, Godrz, I swear I’m good. It just took a little bit more to stabilize this part of the rocket. Just give me a few minutes to finish up and then I will be right there to celebrate with you all, got it?"

John contemplated his brother’s words before conceding. Alan was a trained member of IR. His judgment could even be better than theirs sometimes, “Okay.” John leaned his head out of the hologram for a moment before leaning back in with a cheeky grin, “Hey, don’t let Scott know I told you this, but if you want to rush your diagnostics, go ahead. I won’t blame you.”

Alan felt himself snickering along with Gordon. Yeah, this was the right thing to do, “FAB, Johnny, my lips are sealed.”

With a wave, John cut his video feed, leaving Alan in utter silence. Letting out a sigh of relief, Alan let his arms fall to his sides. Everything was going to be okay. Dad was back and could pilot the Zero-X in his place, his brothers would get back a vital part of their childhoods, The Hood would leave his family alone (Kayo would thank him for that one if she could), and things would go back to what it once was.

... He felt really dirty. He abused John’s trust for a reason his older brothers were going to hate themselves for. Alan was allowed to feel regret, right? Because--

Suddenly, Alan felt an arm around his shoulders bringing his tiny body to be closer to someone else. Okay, Alan wants to take it back, this is awful! God, he might genuinely throw up-- John wait--

“Aw, don’t be like that,” The Hood stated coyly, “After all, it appears we will have plenty of time to get to know one another. Better sooner than later, right?” The laughter that rung out in the room sounded like it came from an 80s sitcom dad.

Sweating bullets, Alan grinned in a way even a literal brick wall would know it was forced. So this is what it's like to walk into the pits of hell, good to know.

---

Scott couldn’t really describe what he was feeling at the moment.

The best word he could come up with was elation because holy fuck:

Dad was finally back.

When he stepped into the cockpit with the rest of his family, the world turned upside down, and in a good way. The first to leap out of his seat was Gordon, of course, but also with tears streaming down his face as he flung himself into his father’s arms for the first time in nearly a decade. Scott couldn’t remember for the life of him the last time Gordon genuinely cried. And he meant genuine, I can’t believe this is happening tears, not Gordon, it’s a fictional movie-- But they’re still puppies, Scott! tears.

Slowly stepping back, Gordon moved out of the way for John, who finally initiated a hug himself with no need for bribery, no need for Scott to promise there’s no ulterior motive behind a goddamn hug. John started talking about what he could add to his room back on the island now that I’ll be down more often and Scott thought himself would burst into tears.

Then there was Virgil. Oh, Virgil, who had the best teddy bear hugs in the entire galaxy, was holding back when it came to his dad as if the middle Tracy squeezed too hard the image in front of him would shatter into itty bitty little pieces that he couldn’t put back together again.

And Scott? Scott felt like he could finally breathe again. His dad being back meant he didn’t have to shoulder, well, everything in their lives anymore. At least, not like before. No more needing to be at every Tracy Industries conference, no more needing to be the constant head of IR relations. Sure, Scott wasn’t going to just drop it all, he’s not an asshole, but one day it’ll be a co-piloted effort, in a sense.

It was also going to be nice to just have an extra head around the house, for more than one reason. Chores won’t be so abundant, Grandma might not cook as often, Scott also needed help getting Alan a geography tutor of some kind, and their dad was always incredible at--

Oh, shit. Wait, where was Alan?

Scott bounded toward his four family members who were currently laughing as if nothing were wrong anymore, “Guys, where’s Alan?”

Both Virgil and Jeff jumped, the beginnings of guilt filling their bodies. Shit, of course, that should’ve been the first thing they asked! Before the self-hate train could leave the station, John waved them off in an attempt to calm them down, “Alan’s down in room C6, remember? We sent him down there to keep the ship stable while you two went out to find Dad’s signal.”

Gordon was wiping away his remaining tears as he grinned his biggest grin ever. He started walking out of the room to where his younger brother was waiting, “Y-Yeah, considering he piloted the rocket, we figured he would be better staying inside to keep it in one piece for the flight home.”

Jeff blinked. Alan did?...

A grin spread across his face at the news, a sharp bark of laughter exiting his chest before he could stop it, “Man, I knew he would be just as you guys one day. I’m just surprised it came so soon!”

Scott blinked at his father before his shoulders relaxed, “Yeah, no kidding. I can’t wait for him to tell you all his stories. Some of them are really killer.”

Jeff directed his grin towards Scott, ruffling the brunette's hair like all those years ago, “Me neither! Lead the way, boys.”

They all mindlessly chatted as they made their way to the youngest’s location, unaware of what was about to befall the family. They got to the place Alan stated he would be at and gave each other one last look. Their expressions were giddy: it felt like they were about to jump out and say Surprise! like one of Alan’s birthday parties.

Scratch ‘like’, it pretty much was that.

The door shhed open to a dark room, sending shivers down the family’s spine and killing the mood instantaneously. “Uh, Allie?” Virgil yelled out into the chillier-than-normal room. Suddenly the lights came on, blinding them for just a second. When they reopened their eyes, everyone’s heart dropped to the floor. Gordon would swear he heard five different, distinct thunks in the future.

Because Alan was very much not in the room, which meant he wasn’t keeping everything 'stable' like he said he would. The older Tracys wouldn’t be freaking out so much (maybe Alan just went to get air somewhere else? Heh) if it weren’t for the fact that Alan’s IR sash was laid on top of the control panel. It would’ve been more reassuring if it wasn’t so neatly folded either, to be honest.

The four brothers didn’t even think as they sprinted over to the scene.

Gordon and Virgil mindlessly grabbed the sash and unfolded it, as if their youngest brother were somehow hiding inside the object that was five times smaller than he was. Scott and John rushed over to the control panel and ran a quick but effective diagnostics to figure out what the hell just happened. Meanwhile, Jeff blinked a few times before gaining a serious look (John would later call it the good old fashion Jeff Tracy rage) as he went to join his two eldest sons in their scramble to figure out the why.

With a few beeps signaling the end of the diagnostic, John flinched before shakily bringing his hand to his chin, “This has been stable for the past 20 minutes...”

Scott bristled in anger, not at John, never at his brothers, but at the implications of those words, “What the hell does that mean?!”

John sharply inhaled before looking his older brother dead in the eyes, an emotion between fear and anger stirring within, “It means, Scott, that Alan was a dirty liar.”

Before Scott could question even further, Gordon piped up from his search of the red sash. His tan seemed much paler all of a sudden, “We... we called Alan right before you guys brought Dad back. He said he had to stay here to make sure everything continued smoothly as he just got it stabilized.”

Jeff could feel the self-loathing rolling off of his sons in waves. He wasn’t sure how to comfort them, though, as he wasn’t exactly sure how to anymore. He was sure he could have, but that idea flew right out the window when Virgil mentioned John didn’t really like surprise hugs nowadays (apparently, he "barely liked hugs longer than 5 seconds in the first place"). His second-born loved nothing more than to be swept off his feet from behind back when, well...

Plus, he has always tried his best to never be a hypocrite. He couldn’t help but feel responsible, just a little bit, “Boys, I can’t help but apologize for everything that appears to be happening. I--”

Before Jeff could continue, or any of his sons could argue with his apparent apology, Virgil finally got sick of the tension and aggressively shook Alan’s sash once more, causing a tiny roll of paper to fall out of the pocket. The one Alan specifically requested Grandma to sew on for him when the senior Tracy got the time.

Every family member present jumped as they felt their stomach rip in half. They all looked around at each other with anxiety clear in their eyes... but Jeff noticed that none of his sons looked at him. Clearly, they weren’t used to him being there just yet. Well, he might as well make up for lost time.

He took a step forward and bent over so he could grab the slip. Before he could blink, Scott snapped out of his funk and grabbed it much faster. Jeff didn’t even have a second to reassure his eldest it was okay before Scott rolled open the slip of paper and read it to himself.

Chaos reigned when his only response was to fall to his knees and drop the horrifying message.

“Scott?!” Virgil cried out. Both he and Gordon ran to their oldest brother’s side to find some way to measly comfort him. Meanwhile, John felt something akin to a panic attack coming on. What could Scott have read that made him react like that? John couldn’t move, so Jeff bit the bullet and finally picked up the note himself.

John was abruptly brought out of his head when he heard his father whimper. Yes, whimper, as if he were a baby deer that just got hit by a speeding car. Moving on autopilot, John walked over to his father’s side as the older man covered his hand with his mouth.

Jeff registered movement at his side. Not looking up, he shoved the note to whoever wanted to read it. More guilt filled the back of his head. He shouldn’t be subjecting his sons to this, he should try and protect them, but he would be lying if he said that didn’t feel pointless.

No, not Alan, not their baby.

Shaking slightly, John gripped the note to the point of wrinkles without looking at it. Inhaling once more, John ripped the bandaid off and read what was tearing his family apart one by one.

John was suddenly thankful he didn’t eat his bagel that morning. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up over all of his remaining family.

Do you remember what the alchemists in the olden days based their theories off of, Jeff?

Don’t worry if you can’t remember, I can just tell you.

It was a little something called The Law of Equivalent Exchange.

I win, Tracy. I always do.

[the-gonegirl]

Here it is guys, the first few pages of my PoF Fanfiction.

Gazing out at the night sky, she took in the flashes of light. The bolts of lightning forking across the sky were nothing new, the thunderstorms had increased just lately and this newest spectacle was just the latest in a long line of natural phenomena to crash over Britain. What was new, however. Was the lack of thunder to this thunderstorm.

It was like an old ritual to her, to count the seconds between the lightning and thunder. Calculate how far away the lightning was and thank god it wasn’t above her head.

But this storm was lacking one element. The lightning wasn’t accompanied by its usual companion. This time there was no crack of thunder, no partner to this dance. The lightning was a lone wolf, howling soundlessly through the sky.

Picking up her phone, she dialed the long since familiar number of her best friend. Carmen.

After three rings the usual click of the receiver sounded and Carmen’s bright voice trickled through the receiver.

‘I was just about to phone you, are you watching it too?’ Carmen asked, wistful as ever.

‘Where’s the thunder’ she asked, her voice lacking Carmen’s brightness. She sounded sad, almost resigned.

It was a miracle the phone lines still worked, or the internet for that matter. The national grid hadn’t been knocked out. Not yet.

Between the war in the far north, the tsunami that hit Australia, the famine and drought in the south, there wasn’t a corner of the world that hadn’t been touched by them. By the Old Ones.

But of course, no one knew it was the Old Ones. At least almost no one.

‘Gigi?’ Carmen’s voice brought her crashing back to reality.

Gigi sighed, ‘Yeah I’m here. It’s them, I know it is’

Carmen sighed now, ‘The bad ones?’

‘The Old Ones’ Gigi corrected her.

‘Gigi, I don’t think… look’ a pause ‘are you taking your medication?’

Gigi bristled. ‘Yes.’

Carmen saw right through the lie, ‘No you’re not, look. Do I need to come stay with you for a bit again?’

Gigi thought it over, she enjoyed the company. But the work she was doing was too important to have eyes prying.

‘Hmm’ she said ‘No its okay, I’m okay. Really’.

Against her cheek, her phone vibrated. Glancing down at it for a second. She registered that it was a message on her blog. That was unusual, she thought. She hardly ever got messages on her blog and when she did it was the usual torrent of abuse.

She sighed again.

‘Carmen I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, alright. I’m fine, really’.

She clicked the end button to the sounds of Carmen’s protests.

Opening the message, she read it with some interest.

 Hi,

How do you know about the Old Ones?

Her heart skipped a beat as she eyed the message for a minute before sitting down to pen a response, mulling over what to put.

 Why would I tell you that, I don’t know you?

The response came quickly.

 Fair enough,

My name’s Scott.

What’s yours?

Gigi.

How do YOU know about the Old Ones?

 I asked first.

 Okay…

You’ll probably think I’m crazy… but I read about them in a book.

What book?

 A monk’s diary.

 Gigi waited and waited, but no response ever came back.

She sighed again, putting down her phone.

Turning to the laptop, open in front of her. She pulled it closer and she sat down to pen a new article on her blog. Trying and failing to come up with anything worthwhile to write that she hadn’t before, she stopped and started for a good half hour before she resigned herself to the fact it just wasn’t going to happen that day.

As she pulled on her headphones; music trickled through the speakers straight into her mind. She danced along as she minimized the blog and opened her writing, cautiously typing away on the keys. Her mind drifted, the words seemingly coming out on their own. Flowing across the page with ease. As she wrote, a bird flapped down to the open window. Gigi looked up and smiled at it, holding a hand out to the creature; she cooed to it. But it just flew away.

She looked back to her laptop, smiling sadly to herself and closed the lid.

 Scott pushed his chair back from the desk.

Reading and rereading the last message.

Picking up the laptop, he left the room.

Finding the others in the outside sitting area. He put it in front of them,

‘Read this’

Jamie leaned forward. Struggling the make out the words on the screen.

The others leaned in too.

Silence weaved its way through the group like a disease.

Turning to Scott, Matt asked. ‘Where did you find her?’

‘She’s got this... Blog. At first, I thought it was your typical conspiracy theory, end of the world, nutcase type thing. But get this, she talks about the Old Ones. A lot.’.

He sat down heavily.

‘Ask her how she got hold of the diary’ Richard piped up. ‘Try and get as much information out of her as you can’.

‘Me?’ Scott asked, confused. He glanced at Jamie, who nodded eagerly at him.

‘You’ve already contacted her; we don’t want to scare her off’. Jamie said, he lowered his voice. ‘You’ve got this, I know you can do it’.

Scott smiled at him. Pulling the laptop closer again and cautiously typing away.

 PING

A new message came through on her blog, Gigi yawned and looked down at her phone. The time: 3.30am flashed back at her through the dim.

 Are you open to meeting?

 Gigi blinked then read the message again, No, was her first thought. But then again… maybe it was crazy. No, she wouldn’t meet him… but she could always Skype him, the thought occurred to her. 

We could Skype?

Skype could work.

When?

As soon as possible?

How about now?

 Gigi laughed.

You’re not in the UK, are you? Its 3.30 in the morning right now.

His fingers hovered over the keys for a second.

Oh sorry, no I’m not. I’m actually in Peru right now

It’s 9.30pm here.

How about in the morning?

Gigi?

 But Gigi had fallen asleep, her phone pressed against her chest.

 Sorry! I fell asleep

I imagine its not morning for you, for a while. Shall we say at 10 am for you?

  Gigi looked down at her hands, rubbing them together.

He was probably asleep, she thought to herself.

Wondering what to do, she cast around the room. Eyeing the guitar in the corner and the rows of books, laying unread.

I could write for a bit. The thought came to her suddenly.

Gigi enjoyed writing stories. Well, she had until she had found the diary.

She sighed, sitting down to pen out more on her story anyway. There wasn’t much better to do till she heard back from him.

She spent the whole day worrying about the skype call. But when it finally came through at 4 o’clock exactly, she was relieved.

Gigi turned to the sound trickling from her laptop. The distinctive ring of an incoming call.

Wringing her hands together, she sat down in front of the screen. Nervousness clawing its way down in her stomach. With a deep breathe, she clicked answer.

The figure on the screen looked about as nervous as she felt, she mused to herself. Her anxiety levels lowering briefly.

‘Hi’ he said.

A little shyly, she thought to herself.

‘Hi’ she said.

He smiled at her.

She smiled back.

 Scott looked down. He was nervous, really nervous. He wasn’t sure why one of the others hadn’t done this, he didn’t really feel like he was the right person for the job.

But here she was, blinking in front of him in HD.

He cast around for something, anything to say. He hadn’t prepared for this, though now he wished he had.

She was beautiful, he thought to himself. In a strange kind of way. Short dark blue hair, down to her chin stuck out at all angles.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Then they both tried to talk at the same time.

They laughed.

‘Go on’ she said, her eyes twinkling.

‘What’s the weather like there?’ he asked, it sounded stupid. He knew it full well, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

With a laugh, she turned the laptop to the window. Showing him the rain falling heavily outside.

‘What about you?’ she asked,

He did the same, the screen illuminated by the bright sunlight.

She sighed, ‘I’ll trade you’

That got a smile out of him, she thought.

She looked down, taking the opportunity to remind herself to breathe.

He was attractive, she couldn’t deny it. She would have guessed about the same age as her. His dark hair was falling in his face. It was long, down to his shoulders.

‘So, the Old Ones’

She looked up at him, head tilted to the side.

‘The Old Ones’ she said, grimacing.

‘How’d you come across the Monks diary, Gigi?’ he said, getting straight to the point.

‘I can’t tell you that, Scott’ she said, sighing.

‘Why not?’ he was slightly annoyed, he didn’t particularly want to be doing this. But he’d promised Jamie he would do it, so here he was.

‘I don’t know anything about you, tell me why you want to know and maybe I’ll tell you’

‘You know more about me then you think’ he said, suddenly thinking of something.

‘Do I? how?’

‘Hang on’. He leaned forward, typing on the laptop for a minute.

A link buzzed in the chat box.

She clicked it open and was faced with her own article, taken straight from her blog.

The Five and why we need them. The title screamed at her in black and white.

Minimizing the screen, she watched him for a minute.

‘What exactly are you saying?’ she asked. Watching him wearily.

‘I’m one of the five’ he said, holding her gaze through the screen.

She blinked at him, raising an eyebrow ‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘We all are’ he said.

‘Who’s we?’ she asked alarmed.

Scott sighed. ‘There’s four of us so far. Hang on, Jamie. Come here’ he said. Waving someone off screen over to him.

A second face appeared on screen.

Gigi blinked at them. Once, Twice.

‘Jamie’s my brother’ Scott explained, smiling.

‘Yes, I can see that’ Gigi remarked, eyeing the twins. They were perfectly identical. Down to every last hair on their head.

‘and you’re both… one of the five?’

‘There’s Matt and Pedro too’ Jamie explained, sitting down next to Scott.

‘Tell me something only the five would know’ she said. ‘So, I know you are who you say you are’. She desperately wanted to believe them. But she had to know, had to made sure. She needed to be positive if she was going to tell them about the diary.

Exchanging a look with Jamie, Scott turned to the screen and sighed.

‘We know about the doors.’

‘Anyone could know about the doors’ Gigi pointed out, trying and failing to sound certain.

‘There’s one In Lake Tahoe, Nevada. We went through it and ended up at Cuzco, Peru.’

‘You went … through the doors?’ she asked, taken aback for a second.

Okay, she thought to herself This changed things.

She shimmied closer to the screen.

Scott was eyeing Gigi as she looked back at them with something like awe.

‘You really are, aren’t you? You’re one of the Five’ she said, gazing across at them.

She smiled then, a genuine smile. It opened up her face in a way he hadn’t noticed before.

He smiled back at her.

‘Do you have powers? The diary talked about powers….’ She trailed off.

Jamie laughed, ‘Yes we have powers, we’re telepathic, Matt can move things with his mind and Pedro’s a healer’.

She was speechless.

‘Show me.’ She said finally.

Jamie Laughed again. ‘It’s not going to work with you so far away, Gigi’.

Frowning, Gigi got up from her chair and paced back and forth in front of the screen.

‘We want to meet you, in person. To talk about the diary, the Old Ones, all of it really’ Jamie said,

Scott had frozen up. This happened an awful lot and it worried Jamie every time.

Glancing at his brother, he continued.

‘We think the last of the five is in the UK, we’re going to fly over soon and meet with her. Can we meet with you too?’

‘Meet with me? Why would you want to do that?’ she asked, alarmed. Thinking hard to herself, she tried to come up with a way out of it. Panic crept into her heart.

Because the truth was, Gigi hadn’t left her house in months, she was too scared to. She seemed to permanently live, camped out in her Living Room. With the curtains drawn, the dim light of her laptop the only thing illuminating her. Gigi’s family and friends had long since given up trying to help her out of the dark hole she lived in. Everybody that was, except Carmen.

Jamie was taken aback. ‘I thought you would want to meet us’ he said, his hurt obvious in his voice.

‘YES! sorry no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just… I do want to meet you, that would be... so good’ her voice faltered in the end. She cursed herself for being so anxious.

‘How soon, is soon?’ she asked, cautiously.

‘In about two weeks’ Jamie replied, smiling at her again.

Gigi stopped pacing, that was soon. Sooner then she had expected.

She wasn’t sure she could do this. A Skype call was one thing. But meeting up meant leaving the house, leaving the safety of this makeshift sanctuary she had made for herself. The situation, it had slowly crept up on her, till she felt she couldn’t leave the house at all.

‘Two weeks’ she repeated.

‘Is that okay?’ Jamie asked,

‘Yeah, sure. Two weeks’.

Two weeks could work, she thought to herself. That gave her time to prepare.

Jamie smiled at her again.

‘So, how did you come across the monk’s diary?’ he asked.

Gigi blew out a breath. ‘Oh, I don’t know. How long do you have? It’s a long story’

Jamie checked his watch, ‘we’ve got time’.

Gigi sat down in front of the screen once more.

‘Ages ago I worked in this little, old book shop. We would get donations of books all the time and I was the one that would sort through them all, well as you probably guessed we got given the diary. It was just dumped on us with a load of other books one day. I was bored, so I decided to read it. With some difficulty, its mainly in Spanish. But I like a challenge. So I pulled out my dictionary and started translating and let me tell you, its really something. Demons, witches, Old Ones. End of the world. The Five.’ She looked at them wistfully for a few minutes.

‘How come you believed it?’ Scott asked, finally getting the words out.

‘Well, I didn’t at first. But then…’.

‘Something happened?’ he guessed, ‘What happened?’ he asked,

She sighed.

‘You wouldn’t believe me’ she said, quietly.

‘I think we would believe almost anything’ Jamie said with a laugh.

‘What if it’s the almost, though’ she asked, suddenly sounding very anxious.

The twins exchanged a look.

‘What happened?’ Scott asked again.

‘It’d be easier to show you, but... could I do it when we meet?’

‘Sure…’ Jamie said. ‘We should get going’ he glanced at Scott again, ‘It was nice to meet you Gigi’

‘Yeah’ she smiled ‘It was nice to meet you too’

‘Can we call you again? Maybe tomorrow?’

Gigi raised an eyebrow, ‘Okay’ she said simply.

‘Bye Gigi’.

‘Bye.’ She said. Leaning forward and clicking the end button.

Gigi stared at the blank screen for a minute, then smiled to herself. That had been…interesting.

[emdythewriter]

Scars of our lives | chapter three (acotar)

The next day Cassian found himself walking into the bookstore Nesta had mentioned owning after dropping the twins off at school. Marie had told her older brother that morning she needed a book for her english class that had to be read and annotated by Friday, today was Wednesday. Xander, his little brother had spent the morning trying to finish whatever experiment he was focused on that morning while dropping subtle hints he needed a few more supplies. So, Cassian was working on his first errand of the day out of he didn’t know how many. Usually Marie would think of something during the middle of the day and force her brother out of an early lunch break.

The bell above the door rang as he entered the little nook of a store which was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. There was no one around that he could see, Cassian even looked over his shoulder to make sure he read the sign right. Sure enough it was flipped to the “open” side yet the inside looked the complete opposite.

He started to wander through aisles of books looking for the fierce woman he had met the night before. As Cassian got closer and closer to the back of the store he started to hear a light humming. He couldn’t tell what the song was but it sounded upbeat based on the joyous tone of the humming. He turned around another shelf before finding an open doorway to what he assumed was the storage room.

Cassian leaned in the doorway as he found the woman he had started looking for. Nesta was sitting on the floor sorting through a few open boxes of books. She was setting copies of the same book in separate pills from the others while singing whatever song she was playing on her phone. It sounded like something from a musical, and a familiar one at that. Kingsley, Rhys’s younger sister had been in musical theatre while in high school and now college, and would even be in an off-broadway production in the spring. So Cassian and his brothers were very familiar with musicals.

“Are you listening to Kinky Boots?” Cassian asked realizing the song was the finale of the show. Nesta jumped out of her skin, falling on her ass and clutching her chest. He laughed as he bent down to help her back onto her feet. “I didn’t give you a heart attack did I?”

“Almost,” Nesta said as she sent him a glare. He smiled wider before letting her go and helping pick up the books he had also caused to fall down. “You better not have caused any damage, some of these have to go on sale today.”

“I’ll pay for the damaged ones if that’s what you wish,” Cassian said, smiling at her as Nesta stacked book on top of book in her arms.

“No need to go all Princess Bride on me,” she said as she set the armful of books on a shelf behind her, smirking at Cassian.

“Sorry, my sister chose it for movie night last night and I have a bad habit of talking like the characters after watching any sort of period drama,” he explained with a shrug.

“Funny my sister Feyre has the same problem, but all she watches are period dramas,” Nesta rolled her eyes just thinking about it. She pushed her body up to sit on a desk she kept in the back just in case she needed a place to escape and work.

“Typically I prefer something with a bit more action,” Cassian said coming to sit next to her.

“What like Criminal Minds?”

“Exactly.” Nesta laughed and shook her head at the male next to her. Whatever the moment between them was turning to was cut short by a crash outside the storage room. She was immediately off the desk, Cassian following suit behind her.

“Shit,” Nesta muttered as she rushed out and towards the back corner where the sound had come from. She had set up a kids center back there and at this time of the day there was only one kid playing with the train station, her son. “Charlie are you okay?”

“I’m fine mamma,” the little boy muttered as his mother scooped him up and into her arms. Cassian looked from the pair to the floor where a chest of train track pieces had been knocked over and scattered across the floor.

“You must be strong kid if you could knock that over so loudly,” he joked, setting his hands on his hips and smiling over at Nesta and her son.

“It’s not that heavy,” Charlie said his gray eyes assessing the man in front of him while still clutching his mother. Nesta brushed a few strands of honey brown hair out of his vision.

“Really?” Cassian challenged as he walked over to the chest and faked a struggle in lifting it back up right. “I think you better lend me some of your strength bud,” he joked with a huff.

Nesta set Charlie back onto his feet and watched as her five year old effortlessly helped the man pick up the chest and refill it with wooden train tracks. Cassian held up his hand when the clean up was done for a high five, her son didn’t hesitate to hit the much larger hand compared to his. She smiled the brightest smile she hadn’t seen in a while as she watched the two of them.

When she found out she was pregnant Nesta had been terrified. She was afraid she would never be enough for her unborn baby, especially consider the father would be very much out of the picture. There were days she thought she made a mistake in keeping the baby, that she wasn’t worthy of being a mother. Then she held her son in her arms and all those thoughts were washed away with the tears rolling down her cheeks. Since that moment there had never been a doubt she had chosen the right path.

“Do you know my mamma?” Charlie asked as Cassian started to help the toddler build a new track. Nesta grabbed one of the small wooden chairs and watched them as she took a seat.

“I do, I actually just met her not too long ago,” Cassian answered as he handed Charlie a new piece to add to the image he had built in his head.

“Is that why you’re here?” Charlie asked looking up at the man that seemed so much larger yet smaller next to the personality of her son.

“I actually came to get a book for my little sister,” Cassian answered honestly. “Seeing your mom was just a bonus.” He winked at Charlie mischievously causing Nesta to roll her eyes and Charlie to giggle.

“What book?” the little boy asked once his giggles had died out.

“The Great Gatsby, you know it?”

“Mamma read that to me last night so I know what it looks like,” Charlie said before getting to his feet and taking off to find the book. Both Cassian and Nesta stood up to follow the toddler, both smiling.

“I’m guessing her knows the cover,” he said as they walked side by side, listening for the footsteps of Charlie running around the bookstore.

“That and he hangs out with me here most days, he’s my little helper.”

“Don’t want to take him to daycare?” Cassian asked as they turned down an aisle.

“Can’t afford it,” Nesta answered, crossing her arms over her chest. “When he was first born I left him at home with my father while I went to classes and then work in the evenings. When I opened this store I decided to keep him in the store with me and he does just fine. Most of the time he’s either with me at the register or playing with the trains,” she pointed over she shoulder to the corner they had just walked away from.

“He does seem like a good kid,” Cassian said as they rounded a shelf and found the little boy holding the F. Scott Fitzgerald classic out for them to see.

“Yeah, he’s the best,” Nesta whispered as they walked towards Charlie, smiling.

___

Elain was getting ready to call an Uber to take her back to her bakery when she heard a familiar voice. Turning around she saw Azriel from the night before running out of the mechanic shop she had just dropped her broken car off at. She had barely been able to get it here before it shut down, she really needed to get a new car. Elain had been driving the silver Toyota since she was sixteen, almost a decade.

“Hey,” Az said once he had caught up to her. He was dressed in a pair of coveralls with a black shirt sucked to his body underneath. His boots looked like they could fall apart on him at any moment but he didn’t seem to notice or care. The coveralls were covered in grease and other stuff that came from working on cars all day, so were his hands she noticed.

“I had no idea you worked here,” Elain said as she took all of him and tried desperately and failed miserable at keeping her arousal at bay. Something about how dirty Azriel looked made her think equally dirty thoughts.

“Yeah,” he said as he looked back at the building with a smile and a proud glint in his eyes. “It’s the family business and the only thing I got from my dad that I actually love.”

“That sounds sad,” she said as she pushed her falling bag back up onto her shoulder.

“To anyone else but me I guess,” Azriel smiled as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He was an ass so don’t feel sad for me.”

“You’re a mechanic,” Elain said staying within the same topic but adjusting its direction.

“I am but I also work at Rhys’s non-profit when I’m not needed here,” Az answered. “You have to bring your car to the shop?”

“Yeah I’ve put off a visit for far too long as evident by the fact it broke down in the parking lot,” Elain replied with an embarrassed laugh.

“The toyota is yours?” He asked sounding kind of astonished that she would have such a beaten down and worn out car.

“Since I was sixteen,” she said with a smile as she lifted herself onto the tips of her toes and then back down with a sigh. “I’m now twenty-three.”

“Wow,” Az responded his hazel eyes widening slightly. “Did you buy her used or new?”

“She was a few years older then the current model when I got her.”

“You might need a new car Elain.”

“I know but it’s not in the budget right now.”

“I could help.”

“Really?” Her face lit up at the prospect causing Azriel to smile and shake his head at her.

“Yeah I could probably find you a good deal on a better model and get you some extra cash from the parts of the old one,” he shrugged like it was no big deal he was basically saving her.

“That’s amazing! Thank you so much,” Elain said jumping up and down excitedly and feeling an urge to hug him, though she didn’t.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Az shrugged again. “Anyways I’m heading out for lunch, would you like to join me?”

“I’m starving,” Elain said with a groan. She hadn’t eaten anything since the oatmeal she made that morning and that stuff never kept her satisfied long enough.

“Burgers and fries sound good? I have a craving.”

“It’s like you read my mind,” Elain said, her smile growing wider and brighter every moment she kept talking to him.

“Alright then let’s go,” Azriel said his own smile bright as he led the way to his truck. He helped her into the passenger seat before getting in the driver’s seat and heading out of the parking lot and down the road

Tag list:

@mis-lil-red @highladyofthefuckingnightcourt @chemicha @sleeping-and-books @my-fan-side @lord-douglas-the-third @sannelovesreading @cc-psm @nightcourtstarlight @ladyblackstairs @mynamestartswithaz @ifangirlninja @rtheinkqueen @everything-that-i-love @sezkins79

(Let me know if you want to be tagged!)