#thank you op for setting this up with very very pretty words

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

The fabric of reality—which death so easily tears through—is incredibly thin, just as the flow of time is illusory through Lilia's lense. She lives her life in flashes, unable to remember what or who she's missing each time. Her cycle ends in death, a checkpoint–and a new cycle opens, just as non-linear and fragmentary. It closes, but never ends. Just like the flow of the seasons, an infinite cycle that death herself, the original green witch, represents entirely. And Rio isn't all-knowing, but she is ever-present. In every point in time, she is there. And her task is to see, not to control—just as Lilia's task is to see, not to control. To see, making sure every cycle ends where it always has. Every windy path leads where it must. And Rio gave Nicky time, just as Lilia gave Billy time by hiding him from the original green witch. But one can only delay the inevitable. Neither clairvoyance nor sigils can vanquish death. But is it so surprising that, throughout Lilia's 450 insignificant years, all she saw was death? They meet in blind-spots, for Lilia represents the completely human desire to hide from death—even as it follows her, as if she's destined to be a harbinger of doom. When she herself gets closer to death than ever—when her path winds out of time—she spots that obsidian heart that perhaps she hadn't as a maiden. And in the end of this particular cycle, she goes with a smile. Holding Death's hand in hers, as episode seven's title suggests. And as this cycle ends—sometime in Sicily—Lilia opens her eyes. It's not that she's gotten away, for death comes for us all. But Rio can continue linearly, knowing that in every continuity, her job is done.

death can transcend time and live out of chronological order, whereas lilia is stuck living her life in a mess of memories, forgotten to her own fractured mind

[screamlet]

08x06 fix-it fic: break and be mended

not connected to that excerpt i posted before, just something completely different. 4.5k, read on the ao3

---

Another hospital room. Buck takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, letting it out and hoping he gets back to sleep. It doesn't happen, though, because his brain catches up to his eyes:

Maddie, wearing a yellow paper hospital mask, a hand anxiously on her belly, sitting in the chair next to him with that too-familiar oh-thank-god-you're-finally-awake face… and Tommy leaning in the doorway.

He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes again.

"You're okay," Maddie says patiently, slowly, as Buck tries to slam the door shut or set the doorway on fire with his brain. "It's just the turkey flu, it hit you hard."

That breaks Buck's concentration. "Wait, is this a dream? Another coma dream? Turkey flu has to be something I made up."

Maddie raises her eyebrows and looks over her shoulder at Tommy before turning back to Buck. "Another one?"

"No, no, don't look at him," Buck interrupts. "He's not supposed to be here, not when I have turkey flu, not ever. He broke up with me, remember?"

In the doorway, Tommy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He's wearing the dark blue LAFD t-shirt and pleated pants, a special Air Ops patch on his shirt sleeve. They always lurked under his flight suit, under his turnouts when they were on the same scene, but Buck didn't get to see them often. It was for the best, he thinks now, because the shirt fits perfectly across Tommy's chest and shoulders, the pants belted low. His shirt is tucked in better than Buck's ever is. He almost never got to see him like this so it feels like some new Tommy he's seeing, a Tommy that hangs around Harbor long enough to take off his flight suit but doesn't peel the rest of his work self off. He doesn't get off his shift, put the pilot away, shower and go home.

Buck looks away. He's looked too long.

"I'm actually here, you know." Tommy raps his knuckles on the door like that's proof of anything except a very strong poltergeist. "I can hear you."

Buck watches something that he hasn't seen in years sweep across Maddie's face (mostly her eyebrows, because of the mask).

She turns around and snaps, "I let you come within ten feet of my brother and you think bitchy fun Tommy was invited, too? He was not." Tommy looks shocked and abashed; Buck loves her so much.

"Why was he invited at all, Maddie?" Buck asks. "And you're both real, right? Like I'm not hallucinating both of you. Is that a turkey flu symptom? Can I have my phone? I need to look up turkey flu."

"It's a strain of avian flu, you just happened to get it from a turkey farm. Hen said you had a call to one of those last week," Maddie explains. "And you kept giggling when I said the words turkey flu so, you know, why not?"

"It's pretty funny," Buck admits. "Hey, why's he here?"

Maddie turns around and looks at Tommy expectantly. Buck still knows his face, still knows him, and can see the quip that wants to escape past his lips. He can see the work it takes to hold it back and look sincere, really sincere, for them.

"You collapsed at a scene and I flew you over," Tommy says. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Buck stares at him as he presses his lips into a fine line. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Tommy nods, then asks, "Can we talk? Alone?"

It's taken four months, almost as long as they were together, but Buck's finally hearing the words he's wanted to hear since Tommy walked out his door. I'm sorry, I was scared, I love you, yes let's take the next step together, from now on let's take every step together—that was Buck's first choice. Can we talk as a jumping off point for all those other things—that was Buck's second choice. Was.

Buck glances at Maddie and knows his face does something dumb. "I'll be outside," Maddie says. "And I'm not far, if you want me to throw him out." She looks over her shoulder at Tommy. "I'll do it."

Tommy nods. "Wouldn't doubt you for a second."

She squeezes Buck's hand and lingers for a beat, one long look at him like she's waiting for him to say actually, wait, don't, stay, but he doesn't. He hates that he doesn't. He hates that he wants to hear what Tommy has to say.

She and Tommy swap places; he takes the chair next to Buck's bed and she leaves, shutting the door behind her. Tommy doesn't see the way she passes by the window like a shark, watching, but Buck laughs. When Tommy looks back, she's gone.

"Your sister's changed a little," Tommy says casually. "Her sense of humor, I mean."

Buck licks his lips. "Yeah, well, when you were my boyfriend, you were her friend. Now you're neither."

"Yep, got it," Tommy says. He sits back in the chair, but looks so uncomfortable that someone would think he'd never sat in one before.

"Are you okay?" Buck asks. "Why are you here?"

"This chair is so weird."

"Tommy, what do you want to talk about?"

It startles Tommy, and it should. He only got soft and smitten, totally-in-love (even if he couldn't admit it out loud) Evan Buckley, cute and bratty Evan Buckley. He doesn't get that Evan anymore. No one has.

Tommy sits with his feet flat on the floor and his hands folded in his lap. He takes a minute, a long minute, of staring at the floor before he looks up and stares at Buck. "You asked me to move in with you."

Buck blinks. "I did."

"You asked me to move in with you."

"You said that. I mean, I said that, but you—"

"Evan," Tommy interrupts.

"I thought I was Buck now," Buck interrupts.

Bitchiness lurks on Tommy's tongue, but he holds it back. "You asked me to move in with you. Into the loft."

Buck tilts his head. "Yeah?"

Tommy shuts his eyes hard and shakes his head before he looks at Buck again. "Evan, I own a house."

"... okay?"

"Did you ask me to move in with you and expect me to give up my house?"

"What, no—" Buck says, then stops himself. "I don't—I didn't think—"

"Did you even think about that?" Tommy asks. "Like when you talked about moving in together, getting married, the future, all of that—did you even remember that I own a house?"

"You know," Buck interrupts. "Four months ago, you could have said, haha, wow, that's moving pretty fast, also I own a house, maybe when we're ready, we could move into MY HOUSE and make it OUR HOUSE, but you needed to run out the door so why would you say any of that?"

"Yeah! I was freaked out! Because here was this guy I—this guy I really liked, and he asked me, a 40-year-old man, to move into his loft?"

"What's wrong with it? Why do you keep saying it like that?"

"It's downtown! Downtown is loud and filthy and did I mention it's noisy? It was hell sleeping there in the summer because even with your central air, heat rises and it rises right into the bedroom. I saw your electric bill, Evan, it was unforgivable."

Buck wants to throw something at him. "And we could have been at your house, quiet and with better temperature control, but we weren't because…?"

"I'm just saying," Tommy continues. "Yeah, all that's true, but I realized you wanted me, wanted a future with me, and you didn't even remember that when I wasn't working or with you, I was at my house."

"I get that," Buck says. "Now how many times did we hang out at your house?"

Tommy sighs. "It's out of the way, your place was always closer to the 118 and to Harbor, and I kept—I was going to, okay? Like maybe after our anniversary, we'd take a week off together and we'd actually be at my house, or take a trip somewhere—"

"You got me basketball tickets," Buck snipes at him.

Tommy stops completely.

"For our six month anniversary, remember?"

"How the hell am I going to forget that?"

"You got me tickets to see the Lakers. Really good tickets."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Alright, well, that's the last time I call that guy I know in the press office for anything."

Buck thinks he's getting closer to setting something on fire with his mind. "I hate basketball."

Tommy stares at him. "What the hell are you talking about? We met because of basketball."

Buck sits up so quickly and angrily he starts wheezing and that turns into a coughing fit. Tommy's immediately there, sitting on the edge of his bed with water, getting him to take a small sip as he rubs his back. When Buck realizes what's happening, he covers his mouth with his blanket and shoves Tommy away, coughing even more.

"Sorry, I was just—"

"I have turkey flu!" Buck yells through the blanket covering his mouth.

"The doctor said you're not contagious anymore."

Buck points at a small paper box across the room. Tommy, so put-upon, grabs a pale yellow mask and slips it on before he sits in the chair again. "Sorry."

"It's—" Buck halts because Tommy had grabbed two masks and was holding one out to him expectantly. Tommy motions to it again and Buck can see how he wants to make a bitchy comment about not having this conversation through a hospital blanket, but he doesn't. That's what makes Buck reach out and put the mask on. The icy fist around his heart thinks about melting.

"We didn't meet because of basketball, we met because of Bobby and Athena and the cruise ship," Buck corrects. "I wanted to see you again after that tour at Harbor but I couldn't think of another reason—"

"I gave you the widest of openings," Tommy interrupts. "Hello? Flight lessons? When you finally offered to buy me a beer, I almost dropped to my knees right then and there."

"But you never called me! You're the one who left to hang out with Eddie!"

Tommy throws up his hands. "Ball was in your court! Speaking of basketball."

Buck sighs, exasperated. "We weren't, like, running into each other, I didn't have a reason to call you—don't say the beer—so finally I saw Eddie was going to that pick-up game with you and I dragged Chimney along."

"Right," Tommy says. "And you played basketball with us. We kicked your ass in a way that made me think you were pretending to be bad at it to make me feel good or something? And then there was the whole thing with Eddie's ankle."

"I hate basketball!"

"You brought your own ball!"

"I same-day ordered a basketball so that when I showed up you'd be like, wow, that guy's ready for basketball, what a cool guy!"

"So you're mad that your basketball ruse worked on my dumb ass, and worked so well for six months that I got you Lakers tickets for our anniversary."

Buck's so annoyed that he put it like that. Maybe that's true, but he didn't have to say it. "I don't like basketball! It was a ruse but I didn't hide it after. You watched games with Eddie and I never came along because I don't like basketball."

"You said you wanted us to have our Eddie-Tommy friend time!"

"Why do you make me sound and feel like a five-year-old? Eddie-Tommy friend time? Seriously?"

Tommy folds his hands together like he's in prayer and shuts his eyes. "Okay, listen, I just. I wanted to get the house thing off my chest, alright? Because it's—it's bothered me so much."

Buck could argue about the basketball thing for about another 500 years, except that Tommy has said what he said. "Has it?"

Tommy puts his hands in his lap again, folded politely as he looks at Buck. "I meant what I said. You were so swept away in how new and exciting everything felt, that I felt like you forgot who you were talking to. Like… I'm not a guy who's going to move in with you. I'm a guy who has a house with a home gym and a car lift, and—and the winter was so mild that I put in this little patio space in the backyard. I bought furniture for it. I took this corner of my front lawn, too, and started to plan a pollinator's garden because they sounded really interesting after those three days of bee hell. Evan, I have a house."

"You keep saying that," Buck says. His ears are burning, but he's listening too intently to feel embarrassed about it (much).

"I freaked out, alright? Because I heard: give up your house to live in this downtown loft with a couch that has a faded but GIANT blood and placenta stain on the other side of the cushion, and then the words engaged and married got thrown in there, too? All in the same breath?"

Buck stares flatly, then nods. "Yeah. I get it. Sorry." He clears his throat and grabs his water before Tommy can offer it to him. He takes a sip, looking at Tommy before he nods at the closed door. "Are we done here?"

"And I'm not a gay rights hero," Tommy adds. "You said that, too." Tommy looks away, and looks so miserable. "I'm just a guy, Evan. I've been burned before by younger guys who thought I was everything that their first gay boyfriend should be, and then—and they didn't see who I was. It's always—" Tommy holds out his hands like he's balancing scales. "Not straight enough to fake a life with a woman, not gay enough to have a real life with a man."

Buck hasn't done this in so long that his throat almost aches with it. He sighs, pained and breathless, the word crinkling against the mask: "Tommy." He swallows again and asks, "Did you really think that was me?"

Another long pause. It ends with Tommy saying, "I thought you were too good to be true."

"I'm not, though, I'm—I'm just me," Buck says. "And I did have a lot to figure out, but not about you."

Tommy laughs suddenly. "Really? Because you forgot I was a homeowner and I didn't know you hated basketball. Did you even go to that game?"

Buck coughs. "I gave the tickets to Karen and she took one of her brothers. They're nuts about the Lakers."

"Huh," Tommy says. "Well. I'm not mad about that."

The two of them are quiet until Buck says, "Seems there's a lot of things we don't know about each other."

Tommy glances at him; Buck can see the shape of his smirk beneath the mask, and the very specific way it makes his eyes crinkle. "And just when we thought we knew everything about each other."

"Yeah, I thought that, too, and then you dropped that you were engaged to my first serious girlfriend at our six month anniversary dinner." Buck raises his eyebrows. "Do you land helicopters that smoothly, too?"

"I got you here, didn't I?" Tommy bites back, then catches himself with a laugh. "Okay. Fair point."

It's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy and Buck hasn't had it easy for months. He hasn't had these quips, this back-and-forth, this person who got him until he didn't, who—Buck rubs at his eyes. Tommy made it easy. He made everything easy. Not perfect, not effortless, but easy. Easier.

"So, uh." Buck fusses with the blanket in his lap. "What have you been doing for the past four months? You, uh…"

"Am I seeing anyone?" Buck nods. "I was, yeah. Didn't last that long."

Buck can't help himself: "Neither did we."

"Ouch." Tommy looks back. "And you?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "I liked them but I broke up with them because it just—it wasn't going anywhere."

"And what's wrong with that? Staying in one place? Isn't that what you wanted for us?"

It's not, but Buck can't articulate it, so he says, "Do you think that's the same?"

A beat, and then Tommy says: "No. No, I don't."

"Tommy," Buck says quietly. "How many people do I have to be with before you decide I've figured it out?"

Tommy's eyes widen. "What? I never said that."

"Tell me what you said, then." Buck swallows painfully, that turkey flu kicking his ass harder than he thought. "Tell me what you meant when you said I didn't know what I wanted. Because I told you what I wanted. I told you I was ready for something and all the things we did together, I thought that you believed me. I guess you didn't, so tell me how many bodies it'll take before you believe me."

Tommy doesn't say anything.

"God, and you know what really sucks?" Buck asks. "That we were together long enough to talk about who we'd been with so we could get tested and be safe. We talked about all that, but I never told you how many times I'd had my heart broken and you never told me yours."

"Three," Tommy eventually says. "Shawn, who was like… all of 25. He was all-in, knowing for sure that the first time was the charm, and I was old enough and steady enough to be That Guy. I believed the hype even though I was barely out of the closet. I shouldn't throw stones at Abby's House of Himbos when I set up my own on the other side of town. And then there was Raúl, my Army buddy who came out to his family and immediately moved to LA to get away from them. Everything felt like a fresh start for him, but… not quite for me."

Buck thinks to ask, but Tommy beats him to it. "Do I need to say the third?" Buck shakes his head. "What about you?"

"Abby, and you." Buck looks at Tommy as he says, "It's not just ending things with someone because it doesn't work. It's heart break. Something's gotta break and be mended."

"I don't think I did that part. You've one-upped me there."

Buck wouldn't have believed that 20 minutes ago, but he believes it now.

"So Bobby's been there, watched me since I was Abby's himbo and helped me to grow into the person who wanted that stuff with you. Once he, kinda, told me that if I care about how people see me, then I haven't learned a damn thing," Buck says. "And that is and isn't true, here. I can't live hoping I meet people's expectations of what they think I should be. I want people—I wanted you—to see me as I am. I thought you did but you didn't, and I didn't either because I didn't see how scared you were. I've made my peace with that. We had something really special and made each other feel really good but, in the end, I guess we were saying all the right things to people we didn't know."

Tommy listens, considers, and nods. "Whole lot of past tense, there."

Buck glances at him and doesn't want to look away, but he does. He doesn't meet Tommy's eyes. He's scared, too. He's done enough today: said a lot of things he's been thinking about for four months and said them very calmly and thoughtfully, but this is gonna hurt. It hurt Buck to realize it and it's gonna hurt Tommy to hear it.

"You got what you wanted, right?" Buck asks. "You got to keep your heart, and I don't feel new and excited anymore." Buck inhales deep; it hurts. "I feel like I did before, like I'm short one piece of being whole. Now the ocean I have to search is so much wider and deeper. So thanks for that, I guess."

"Evan—"

"I let you into my family," Buck interrupts sharply. "Because I cared about you and because you fit. I fit because they're mine and that's my family I made, and you fit there right next to me. With us."

"You're absolutely right."

Buck watches him, tries to see behind the sunshine yellow and white mask on his face, but all he sees are his eyes that, like always, make Buck feel too much, like laser beams disintegrating him.

"Were you really that scared?" Buck can't help the way his voice cracks. "You were that scared of me?"

Tommy looks up again, lasers in place. "I was that in love with you." He shakes his head like he did that last night in the kitchen, and looks up like he'll tip the tears back into his eyes. "And those heartbreaks—you'd leave them light-years behind if I let you. You'd leave me light-years behind."

Buck nods, then says, "Could you leave, please." His wet breathing crinkles grossly in the mask. "Thanks for telling me all this, thanks for the closure, but I don't need to see what someone looks like after they've walked away from me."

"You collapsed at a scene three days ago and I was the closest pilot to medevac you here," Tommy says slowly. "You were delirious and told Shreya, Don't tell Tommy I'm sick, he doesn't care anymore."

Tommy clears his throat. "I do care. I never stopped."

Buck sits back in his hospital bed and pulls the blanket up to his neck, the only comfort he's got right now. "If this is a turkey flu dream, I'm gonna be so pissed at you, real you," Buck says.

Tommy laughs quietly, sadly, then hesitates for a moment. "Can I ask you something? Can I ask you the scariest thing I've ever asked anyone in my entire life?"

Buck doesn't move, doesn't breathe. "What is it?" he finally asks.

"Will you give me a second chance?"

Buck, hearing what he's quietly dreamed of hearing for four months, doesn't feel the euphoria he thought he would. He feels something else, though: a strange kind of wonder that someone wants him again. Again. He swallows hard, feeling the pain right in his turkey-flu-ridden throat. Someone knew him. Someone left him. Someone came back—came back for him.

Tommy left. Tommy came back. Tommy wanted him then. Tommy wants him now. Tommy's wanted him all along.           

Buck asks, "Will you invite me to your place more than once every six months?"

Tommy's half-smile is still wide enough for Buck to see behind the mask. It falls, though, back into something serious. "Will you forgive me when I'm not a paragon of queer virtue?"

"Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"

Tommy raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"

Buck thinks he smiles a little behind his mask, but it doesn't stay. "Are we gonna break up again?"

"I don't know," Tommy admits. "But maybe next time we can stop each other and hit the brakes. I love romcoms, but maybe we don't do that again: you don't propose fixing a problem with marriage and a baby, and I won't run out the door."

Buck raises his eyebrows, too. "Who said anything about a baby?"

Tommy sputters. "I mean, you were the one raising the stakes before."

Buck laughs. "Right, right."

The quiet stretches out between them. They look at each other and don't look away. The stubborn, proud, cocky side of Buck feels annoyed that this feels like—like he can't get out of this. Like all roads lead back to Tommy, like he doesn't have a choice. Like if he wants to be happy, it's with this person.

A part of him wants to run and throw himself into the hunt again. He wants to thrive in the search for someone who makes him feel that euphoria and fondness and love that he felt with Tommy. He tries to imagine someone else, some vague smoky figure that isn't Tommy's height, Tommy's build, Tommy's arms crossed over his chest and that tilt of his head. The problem is that Buck feels more looking at that furrow and arch of his eyebrows than he's felt for anyone he's met in the past four months, maybe even longer.

Not all roads lead to Tommy—only the ones he wants to take.

"Say it again?" Buck asks.

Tommy nods ever so slightly. "I'm in love with you." He pauses and a smile reaches his eyes. "I love you."

Buck can't help the way his eyes water; neither can Tommy.

"Ask me again," Buck says.

"Will you give me a second chance?"

"Yeah." Buck wonders if his own smile reaches his eyes. He hopes it does. "Yeah. Will you?"

Tommy chokes out a laugh behind his mask. "Yeah, god, of course. Of course. You sure?"

"About you?" Buck asks. "Yeah. I mean, I want to be. Don't make me regret it."

"Don't make me give up my real estate."

"Don't make me go to any sports events."

"Seriously? Not even baseball?"

"God," Buck moans. "The sleepiest one of all."

"Hockey's good."

"You hate the Kings."

Tommy scoffs. "Of course I do. You always hate your local teams—you just hate visiting teams more. Can't let management get comfortable."

Buck attempts to take a deep, exasperated breath, but he forgets that he has the fucking turkey flu. He chokes and starts to cough and wheeze, but Tommy's there again. He freely, lovingly pushes Buck further to the other side of the hospital bed so he can sit and take care of him: water, tissues, hand on his chest to steady him, eyes worried and on him.

"It's not official until you kiss me," Buck says. "I'm not contagious."

"I mean, not with turkey flu," Tommy says. "Your Buckness? That I'm not so sure."

"Don't call me that anymore," Buck says.

Tommy puts his cup of water on the table next to Buck's bed, then shifts so he and Buck are closer, face-to-face, head on looking at each other. "How'd you get even brattier in only four months?"

"How'd you forget I was this bratty?"

"At my age, well, everything's starting to go."

Buck laughs, then coughs and wheezes. "Stop making me laugh."

"How'd you forget I was this funny?"

Buck tilts his head. "I didn't. I didn't forget a thing."

Tommy searches his face, then cups his jaw with one hand. Buck doesn't lean into it, just lets Tommy hold him as he tips Buck's chin up ever so slightly.

Then Tommy kisses his forehead and his birthmark, and wraps his arms around Buck. It's the warmest Buck has felt all winter. It finally feels like spring.

---

read on the ao3

[lightsoutletsgo]

anxiety gremlin — op.81

pairing: oscar piastri x anxious!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of anxiety and generalised anxiety disorder, description of physical symptoms including; nausea, headaches, sweaty hands, stomach pains, brain fog, mental struggles, mentions of panic attacks but reader doesn’t experience one, mentions of food and making food related decisions. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!  hello loves! this one is very personal to me and it was a pretty selfish write tbh... I wasn't sure if I should post it but I decided to do it in the hopes that it brings people some comfort. Oscar's dialogue at the end is a message that I, as the author, want to remind you all. you've got this, even if it doesn't feel like it! happy reading love mimi

Sometimes, it felt as though the world was out to get you. You faced the world and your flight, fight or freeze instincts kicked in. When you woke up, it seemed like it was going to be one of those days. That unexplainable feeling of nausea turning your stomach and an unexplainable headache pulled at the back of your head. Your jaw tensed as the nausea hit you in another wave and you forced yourself to roll over and close your eyes. Maybe if you could get back to sleep you’d wake up feeling better. Your mind however, had other ideas. Instead, deciding to send you down the spiral of impending doom - a lovely gift first thing in the morning. Thoughts whizzed through your head; Why did you feel so nauseous? Why did your head hurt? Had you forgotten something? What were your plans for the day and was that why this horrible feeling was creeping up? You sat up, accepting that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep and decided to get ready for the day. Perhaps a shower would help? The warm water was soothing as it rushed over you and whether it was the heat or the steam or the fact you were doing something to distract yourself, for a moment you felt a little better. Exiting the shower you decided that while the nausea had subsided, it would be a good time to start hydrating and maybe think about eating something. Your phone rang and dragged you from your internal rambling, “Hi baby!” You smiled, despite the fact that your boyfriend couldn’t see you, “Good morning angel,” You could hear Oscar’s dopey lovesick grin through the phone, “how did you sleep?” You set him down on loudspeaker as you got dressed, “I slept okay! How about you?” “I would have slept better if you didn’t keep stealing the blankets…” You gasped, “I do not!” Oscar laughed, “You absolutely do! One night I’m going to record you for evidence.” You giggled, “You do that baby.” Oscar nodded then realised you couldn’t see him, “I’m just calling to find out what you want for breakfast? I figured I’d stop off at that little cafe that you like on my way home.” You gulped, you had no clue what you wanted or how to decide, “I’d love that, thank you handsome!” You thought frantically for a solution, “Uhh you can choose for me! I trust you!” There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Are you sure angel?” “Yup, mhm, so sure!” “O-okay…” After making Oscar promise to drive safely, you hung up. 

You realised that for a moment while talking to Oscar, you hadn’t even thought about feeling anxious but it was as if that realisation had summoned the feeling back. All of a sudden your hands felt shaky and it was hard to focus on anything but the disconcerting feeling in your chest. Sitting down on the couch you did your best to control your breathing. Sometimes you wished that it would just turn into a panic attack and be done with. Anything would be better than this on-off-on-off situation. It was like feeling a sneeze that wouldn’t leave your body. Unsatisfying and unsettling. 

The front door opening made you snap your head up and you realised that subconsciously you had been rubbing your hands on your sweatpants to try and get rid of the clammy feeling. You shook your head and smiled as Oscar walked through the door, you were just a little bit anxious, it was no big deal. 

Oscar beamed at you as he entered the living room. He noticed that you seemed distracted and almost a little shifty. Your eyes kept darting around the room and your hands were absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the hem of your t-shirt - a habit you usually despised because it had the potential to ruin your clothes. He said nothing, just walked through the room to the kitchen and placed down the paper bags filled with breakfast. “You okay there angel?” You nodded at him but it wasn’t enough to reassure him, “Are you sure?” You nodded once more, why now of all times were you feeling sick again? You sat there grinding your teeth together and clenched your jaw, feeling too sick to open your mouth and reply. You wanted to reply, you really did! But your brain had decided that words were a step too far. “Did you do something while I was out, hmm?” Oscar joked but all it did was make you more anxious, ‘was he angry?’, ‘was he going to shout at you?’, ‘breakup with you?’, “Come on troublemaker, you can tell me!-” “Nothing! Nothing happened! Now will you please stop asking.” You snapped, immediately clapping a hand across your mouth in shock before the tears were welling up in your eyes. “Oscar I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry baby I shouldn’t have snapped… Please don’t be angry!” You rambled a million miles an hour as your hands began rubbing and grabbing the material of your sweatpants again, not even realising your breathing had turned heavy and you were sweating. Oscar stood there in shock, he had never seen you like this before, was this because of him? He slowly approached you, not sure of the issue and not sure how to resolve it. “It’s okay angel, it’s okay” He held his hand out to you but you shook your head, talking through a clenched jaw in the hopes it would help the queasy feeling in your stomach, “Hands sweaty.” Oscar nodded, “Okay then, can I sit next to you?” You nodded, he gently took a seat next to you, careful not to jostle or jolt you, “Is this a medical emergency?” You shook your head, “do I need to call an ambulance?” You shook your head once more, feeling like you wanted to cry.

How embarrassing that you were having an episode like this in front of your boyfriend after hiding it so well for so long. And even more embarrassing that you couldn’t tell him what was going on let alone why you felt the way you did, “Is this a panic attack?” You shook your head no. Oscar made a little ‘oh’ and sat quietly next to you, unsure of what to say or do. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to open your mouth, despite how heavy your tongue felt. “I’m just a bit anxious.” “What about?” You shrugged, “Nothing. Everything. Hard to explain.” Oscar smiled at you through your one word answers and short sentences, “Well I can wait, it’s okay.” You nodded, hands starting to tingle with how long you’d been rubbing them against fabric and you winced as a sudden cramping feeling started in your stomach. Oscar seemed to notice your discomfort, “Please let me hold your hand angel, I promise I don’t care if it’s sweaty and you think it’s gross, I just want to help okay?” You nodded, breathing deeply and letting him take your hand in his. 

As soon as your hand was in his, his thumb was rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand. A soothing motion that you let your eyes focus on. Watching his hands and how they moved, anything to keep your attention off of the anxious feeling. 

As he sat next to you Oscar wondered how he should approach you to talk about this. Clearly there was something you weren’t telling him. He thought he knew what it was and he understood why you hadn’t told him. He knew that people got anxious, hell he was always anxious before a race, but he also knew that for some people it went beyond unsettling feelings. He guessed that that’s what you were dealing with too. He’d seen Logan feeling like this a few times and so he wracked his brain to try and remember what the American had told him was useful. How about distraction? It was worth a shot! “Want to watch a film?” You nodded, eyes still laser focused on Oscar’s hands. “I knew you had a thing for my hands but you are allowed to blink you know.” He joked, cracking the smallest sound of an exhale of laughter from you, that was a start. “What film should we watch, hmm?” He grabbed the remote to start flicking through options, his hand never leaving yours, but aware that there was enough space between you so you didn’t feel smothered. “I think something cute and funny? Yes that’s a goooood plan Oscar.” You gave a weak smile once more as he talked to himself and he smiled at you, “how about Tangled?” You nodded and he selected the film, settling back into the couch, head looking at you once more, “Do you want to cuddle?” You shook your head and he just shrugged, wanting to keep you as comfortable as possible,  “That’s okay, you just let me know when you do, okay?” You nodded and he squeezed your hand to comfort you, “Do you want to sit back on the couch?” Your body was still tightly wound and feeling like a live wire so you shook your head, physically unable to relax. And still all Oscar did was smile at you.

As the film started, you did your best to focus on it, finding yourself unable to stop smiling and releasing some of the tension in your shoulders at various points when your boyfriend spoke the lines along with the characters, with facial expressions. You watched on screen as Rapunzel and Flynn entered the Ugly Duckling Pub and you realised your body finally felt relaxed enough to sit back against the couch. Oscar silently breathed a sigh of relief, all he wanted to do was fix it for you but he knew that he could only do so much. 

By the time the next song had finished, your body was subconsciously leaning against him. Your head rested on his shoulder and he gently tilted his head to rest on top of yours. You gave a little contented sigh. As you sat there, a wave of tiredness hit you, the physical symptoms and mental strain you’d been feeling since you woke up taking its toll. With Oscar’s warm body next to you and the comforting sounds of one of your favourite movies on screen, it wasn’t long before you felt your eyes beginning to slowly close. Oscar looked down at you and saw that your lashes had fluttered shut. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and let his own eyes slip shut. 

When you woke up a couple of hours later, the TV was off and you were laying on the couch with a soft blanket covering you. You sat up and sleepily rubbed your eyes, “Osc?” You heard low music drifting through the door to the kitchen and you could hear Oscar mumbling to himself and humming along, cursing occasionally when pots and pans clanged together. He poked his head out from the kitchen door, “There’s my pretty girl. Good morning angel.” He cooed at you and the way you blinked back at him sleepily. “What time is it?” “It’s lunchtime! I was just reheating breakfast.” You nodded, sitting up and pulling your knees up to your chest as he padded across the room to take a seat at the end of the couch by your feet, “I’m sorry.” Oscar’s eyes searched your face as you looked down at your hands in your lap. Oscar’s hand rested on your knee, “Angel, you never have to apologise for something like that…” He trailed off, hesitant to ask you his next question, “do you want to talk about it?” You inhaled slowly, nodding, “Yeah I think I would.” He gently nudged you with his elbow and you shifted back to let him sit in front of you, both of you sitting cross legged. He held his hands out to you and you took them with a shaky exhale.  

“Umm… I’m not exactly sure how to explain it?” You admitted, your fingers playing with his own in an effort to keep yourself grounded as that familiar feeling of your shoulders tightening and nausea creeping up began to settle in. He followed your gaze, “That’s okay, we have all the time in the world. Explain it however you feel is easiest.” You nodded once more, “So obviously you noticed that I was feeling anxious,” He tilted his head to one side to show you he was listening as you continued, “That’s because I have generalised anxiety disorder. And the thing is… I feel like that most of the time.” You admitted shakily, desperately willing yourself not to cry. If Oscar was surprised or taken aback he didn’t show it, instead just linking your hand with his and squeezing, encouraged you continued, 

“There are good days and there are bad days but I’m always anxious… There’s this constant feeling of underlying panic or anxiety or this sense of impending doom.” You looked up and noticed how Oscar’s eyes searched yours, willing you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere, “I feel nauseous, I feel shaky, my hands get clammy, sometimes it’s like I forget how to breathe, my head and stomach hurt for no reason, my head goes fuzzy and it’s hard to focus on anything but the feeling of how anxious I am…” “Baby…” Oscar breathed, you gave him a watery smile, tears filling your lash line, 

“It makes me irritable, it makes me bitchy, it makes me snap at people I love, it makes me sensitive and emotional, I cry a lot, I cancel plans at the last second, I keep to myself and I build my walls up…” You trailed off, meeting his gaze and noticing that his eyes were filling with tears too, “Sometimes it feels like I’m two people. Me and my anxiety.” You couldn’t help the way the tears fell with a choked sob, “Angel, can I please please give you a hug?” Oscar pleaded, itching to pull you into his arms and comfort you. 

You nodded through your sobs, finally feeling the huge emotional release that had been building since you’d woken up. He reached for you, gently grabbing your arms and pulling you forward onto him. Falling back against the arm of the couch with you against his chest as you both stretched your legs out. He held you for what felt like forever, tightly wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair, gently murmuring to you and kissing your forehead. When your sobs had subsided a little, he wiped your cheeks, “My sweet girl…” He gently pressed kisses across your face, relishing in the way your crying eased and you let out a little sigh after each one, “Thank you so much for telling me angel.” He paused, “Can I ask why you didn’t tell me before?” He asked gently. You sighed, fisting his t-shirt in your hand as you fought the nervous feeling that made your stomach flip. His hand rubbed up and down your back in a soothing motion as he felt you tense up in his arms, “I’m not mad at you baby, I just want to know what I can do differently in the future. I’d hate it if you didn’t feel safe enough to come to me for help.” You nodded, nuzzling into his chest, attempting to block out the world and focus on Oscar. Just Oscar. 

“Everyone I’ve told has left…” You mumbled sadly, “Hmmm?” His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to scare you out of answering, “I told a few people growing up, uni friends and stuff, and they would always answer with the usual ‘oh yeah I feel anxious too’... Until I explained I had diagnosed anxiety disorder and then,” you sighed, “then they would tell me it was too much for them to deal with, or they would get mad at me for ruining plans, or tell me to just get over it when I tried to talk to them about it.” Oscar’s hold on you tightened a little as he felt a spark of anger burn inside him. How dare they? Anyone could see that you were trying your best, he gave you his full attention as you continued, “I guess all of those things mean that I have a hard time opening up and trusting people with the knowledge of my diagnosis because it’s always backfired… Please don’t be mad at me… I do trust you, I just…” “Hey,” Oscar’s voice was low to ensure he didn’t trigger you, “I’m not mad or disappointed at you baby, I’m frustrated with myself for not noticing sooner.” “I’m pretty good at hiding it,” you admitted, the two of you led there in silence for a moment before Oscar spoke again, “Well I’m beyond proud of you. For dealing with it everyday and for opening up to me.” You tilted your head up to look at him and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, “Thank you for listening.” He smiled back down at you, “Of course.” 

You summoned up the courage to ask him the question that had been on your mind for a little while, “H-how did you know how to help?” Oscar breathed deeply for a second, “There’s someone on the grid who uhhh, struggles with the same thing. They’ve opened up to me and explained what helps them so I figured I’d try?” You pushed yourself up to look at him in surprise, “Someone on the grid?” Oscar nodded, “I won’t say who, because it’s their thing to disclose and explain,” You nodded, “Of course!” “But they’re doing their best to work on things and ask for help and they’ve been doing really well.” Oscar made a mental note to ask Logan if he would consider talking to you. “Well, Tangled was a great choice!” You giggled as Oscar nuzzled his nose into your neck, “Yeah? I wanted to pick something that wouldn’t make you feel worse.” You couldn’t help the way you threw your arms around him and cuddled into him, so thankful for him and the thought and care he gave to you. “I love you.” It was muffled against his chest but he knew what you wanted to say and so with a chuckle he kissed the top of your head, “I love you too, angel.”

You stayed there for a moment before he was gently pushing you to sit up so he could look into your eyes, “I want to say something.” He hesitated and you nodded at him to continue. He gently held your chin with one hand, keeping you looking at him as his other hand found yours in your lap, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing, despite the way your hands were starting to get a little clammy again, “You may have anxiety disorder but it’s not who you are, baby.” Your eyes widened, he continued, “You are not your diagnosis. There is so much more to you than that. You are kind and caring, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re creative.” Your heart melted at how passionately he was speaking. “You’re loved and valued by me and so many others, angel… I love you, the anxiety gremlin that comes with you and all.” You giggled at how he referred to it, “Anxiety gremlin… I like it!” He smiled, kissing your nose, you scrunched it up and he kept talking, “I know I can’t fix it and make it go away, believe me baby I wish that I could. But I promise that I’ll be here through all the bad days and the good days. I’ll do everything I can to make it easier and more bearable for you.”

You couldn’t help the way you started crying again, happy tears this time, Oscar’s thumb gently wiping them away, “So when you’re feeling up to it, we’re gonna sit down and talk about how I can help. What I can do when you’re having a bad day, the things we can do together, how you like to be distracted, how I can help when we’re out in public, maybe a codeword?-” You giggled as he started speaking faster and faster, you stopped his rambling with a soft kiss, pressing your lips to his, your hand cupping his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek, “That sounds perfect baby, thank you.” Oscar kissed you once more, pulling you into him, “You just let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded, “I will, I promise.” “Good! But for now, we still need to eat our breakfast!”

[solar4seekstron]

You know what- I'm going to be an evil man. Can I request for TFA Oppie. He getting cockblocked (spikeblocked?) with his counjux reader on their long-awaited private date, thanks to, of course, the Decepticons deciding to wreck the city....again.

I….LOVE THIS!!! HAHAHA!!!!!

TFA!Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader: Spikeblocked

TW/Tags: 18+, almost smut scenes, make out scenes, fluff, OP and reader are couple goals. Bee is adopted in this universe, Sari is their baby too idc that she has a human dad, I think that’s all?

You and Optimus Prime have been together for a very long time. You both dating while at the academy. You helped him build up his team. And was there to comfort him and the team whe you all got stuck on the planet called Earth. It was not always fun. Having to fight decepticons at times and such.

One night as you both sat on the sofa watching the tv in the main room. Optimus was a bit….bored to say the least.

The other bots were out to watch a drive through theater. And Sari should be at school.

It was just you and him right now. He sat on the sofa withi his legs spread. His arm around you as you leaned against his frame. Your helm ontop of his chest. A cervo on his chest. His other cervo resting on his thigh as your other cervo rests on your own lap. Watching a movie about a super hero recommended by Sari

Optimus glanced down at you at would look back and forth at you and teh tv. Then his helm turning to look around to be fully sure you both are alone. Then looking back at you.

”Hey uhh Sweetsaprk. You know it’s been a while since me and you have had our…”alone” time since our last time before the decepticons attack.”

You’d sit up a bit to look at him. And look around before looking back at him. “We are having alone time Optimus.” You responded as he chuckled. His cervo resting on the middle of your back.

“Well yes. But what I mean sweetspark is um…it’s been a while since we had intimate moments.”

You stared at him trying to process his words. “Y-you when we bonded and all…before.” He was nervous. Yiu’d then have a soft smile on your dermas as one of your cervos gently holds the side of his helm. Then as you face him.

Sitting on his thigh again but your legs on both side of his thigh. You knee against his panel as he stared down at you blushing you.

As both of your dermas connect as both of his cervos rest on your waist. The movie drowning out your kisses. As you both closed your optics. Your arms wrapped his his neck.

As you both continued he gently grabbed your thigh and moved it to the other side of his hip. Both of your panels and and frames against each other. Both of your chests against each other. You make out session slowly getting more heated.

As you both open your panels and he was about to lift you up against his body to place you ontop of his spike. You both are startled by a little girl yelling.

”Optimus!!!! Y/N!!!!!” It was Sari. Optimus groaned in the kiss before you both pulled away. You getting off as you both close your panels.

You sitting next to him instead of on his lap or thigh. ”We’re in the living room kiddo.”

He was pretty disappointed. You placing a cervo on his chest as you give him a soft smile. He did have a bit of a frown but that went away once you give him a kiss on the cheek as Sari made her way to you two.

”Hey guys. School was out early today! Mind if i watch with you guys and stay over? Me and Bumblebee want to watch a movie!”

”What kind of movie Sari?” Optimus asks as you gently picked her up and setting her between you both. “Oh you know the one with the clown and red balloon. I was able to get it on dvd after saving up every week from my allowance!”

She took out the DVD. You looked it over as Optimus looks it over in the World Wide Web in his processors. “Sari, this movie says R-Rated.”

”So I can handle it. I’m a bigger girl now that I got my upgrade. I’m even taller no that has to mean something!” After Optimus did his research. You both sigh closing your optics before looking back at Sari as she stared up at you two with a big smile on her lips. You’d hand her dvd back as smiled.

”Alright. Since you’re such a big girl now. I suppose it will be alright to watch it”

”YES! Thanks mom!”

She runs off. Not realizing what she said as she ran off to Bees rooms. You sit there dumbfounded. “Sweetspark? Are you alright?”

”she…she called me…Mom.” You almost teared up. Optimus placing his cervo on your shoulder. “Um I think she meant parents?” Only for you to cover his mouth as you looked at him with tearful optics.

”Who cares about gender norms! She loves meee.” You cried with tears of joy. Optimus comforting you with a small smile as the other boys come in from their night out.

———————————————————————————

Later that night you and Optimus shared a berth in one of the rooms. And so as you both read the latest news back on Cybertron. Optimus thought about earlier as he glanced at you. The idea returning as and so he smiles. Leaning closer to your audio sensors as he whispers.

Causing you to giggle. His cervo grabbing the data pad you had and tossing it off the berth as he gently held your waist and as his dermas connect with yours. His upper frame a bit over yours as you laid back.

Your cervos holding the back of his head as one of his arms supports him up and the other remains on your waist.

Starting another make out session. “You sure we’ll be fine?” You asked between kisses.

”mmmph yeah we’ll be fine, everyone is busy.” He also says between kisses.

The room is just full of both of your kisses as he reaches to wrap one of your legs around his waist until you both hear a knock. Causing Optimus to groan. “Yes?” He said in a more annoyed tone.

Him sitting off not really on you anymore. You sitting up as well as you both look at the door as it opens. It was Bee and Sari shaking as they had tears in their eyes and optics. “The movie scare you two?” Optimus asks as he crossed his arms. You setting a cervo on his thigh to calm him as Bee and Sari walked closer as the door closes behin them.

”Can uh we stay with you guys? W-with the lights on?”

”P-please.” You and Optimus looked at each other. He could never say no to your smile. And so he nodded. Bee and sari climbing into berth laying between you guys. Bee next to Optimus as Sari is next to you.

The four of you started talking until you all eventually fell asleep. Optimus having his arm wrap around the three of you. Holding you all together as the night carries on.

———————————————————————————-

The next morning as you and Optimus made energon breakfast for the others. Optimus spoke of his and your date tonight so they are to not be disturbed.

The others agreed and a location for you and primus was set. You both then carrying on with your day with patrolling. Later that night you and Optimus drive to a restaurant the humans in the city created for you both.

You two have saved the city many times before. It’s the least they can do.

And so as the date carries on. You and Optimus flirting and making conversation. His cervo over yours on the giant “Table” that’s really just a small building. You both had to stand but it was all worth it.

As you both speak you don’t know what’s to come. After some time you both started leaning closer to as he continues to flirt with you. But before your dermas connect you both instantly open your optics as you both hear an explosion at thr forest.

You and Optimus groan and take out your weapons as you both made your way to the decepticons.

And so a fight in-sues. You two both end up being very busy for a good while throughout the night. Once you two made your way to back to base. Saying hi to everyone and catching them up.

You and Optimus go to sleep. Cuddling each other. Both completely exhausted.

Maybe the next date. Will be it..

My poor OP man If any of you got funny ideas for more spikeblocked Optimus let me know in the comments and I can create a part two! As always I hope you guys enjoyed and that I met the expectations. As always a repost is appreciated and I’ll see you guys in the next one!

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 4 - Left Hand Woman

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Gryphon time, A spot of magic, No one knows how to communicate, I've given up on any semblance of reader neutrality, sorry, Sweetpea is her own woman and you are just along for the ride, Farah is here now! We love Farah

~7.2k words - MDNI

Someone sends a young woman from the staff to help you dress the next morning. She’s shy and mousy-haired, and you have to ask her what her name is twice before she haltingly tells you that it’s Tiphanie. She goes entirely pink when you tell her that you think it’s a very pretty name, and that you hope you’re not pulling her away from anything more important.

“I’ve been tidyin’ your room, highness,” she says turning even pinker. “Or, um, tryin’ to. You leave things so neat there’s been nothin’ for me to be doin’.”

“I’m used to living on my own,” you explain. “I’ve been in charge of keeping my own space tidy for years now.”

“On your own?” Tiphanie asks, aghast. “But your wicked father sold you away to the giants in the mountains so they’d help him in the war, and they kept you in a cage and made you sing to them like a songbird, until Sir Ghost came flyin’ in on his gryphon and rescued you.”

Is that how they’ve explained your absence? You unwrap your hair, laughing. “Oh goodness, no. I was living in a town not all that far from here. Out in the country. Not sold off or captured by anyone.”

“Well, then what was sir Ghost gone so long for, if he wasn’t travellin’ through the wastes and fightin’ monsters lookin’ for you?” she asks, blinking at the cloud of tightly curled hair you’ve let down, like she’s not entirely sure if she should be doing something about it. “He’s been gone three years, and then he came back with you— If you’re tryin’ to put on a brave face about it, I understand, highness, but what you’re sayin’ don’t make any sense. You wouldn’t’ve stayed away so long if you was just a few towns away.”

It’s a bit funny that she’s so insistent that it makes more sense that you’d been held captive in the distant mountains than simply living your life peacefully close by, but you have to admit, it’s certainly the more compelling story. “Well, the giants made me keep my own room tidy,” you say, splitting your hair into three segments so you can braid it down your back in one thick plait. “I only had to sit in the birdcage when they were entertaining guests.”

“I knew—” she cuts herself off with a little yelp, catching sight of movement at the window.

You glance over, and it’s just Nox, landed on the balcony, shaking her wings out. “Thank you for your help, Tiphanie,” you say, smiling at her reassuringly. “I should say hello to Nox.”

She nods, wide-eyed, and gives you a wobbly curtsy as you step out to the balcony.

“Hello, my darling,” you croon to Nox, holding your arms out. She presses herself against your chest, making a strange, warbling purr as you scratch behind her tufted ears. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday, pretty girl.”

If she's offended by your negligence, she doesn’t hold a grudge. She hops backward and gently tugs at one of the loose curls around your face, cawing happily at the way it bounces back into shape when she lets go, wiggling her wings a little playfully.

“Sweetpea, we’re down ‘ere, whenever you’re ready,” Ghost calls up from the courtyard. When you look over the edge, you can see that all four of them are down there, sitting around a table you hadn’t noticed before. “Nox’ll ‘op down with you.”

“One second,” you tell Nox, giving her one last scratch under the chin before you dash back inside for the book Kyle lent you. When you return to the balcony, she kneels down enough that you can climb onto her back carefully, and straightens up once you’re settled in place. Inky black wings spread out on either side of you, and she jumps into the air, headed upwards rather than down like you expected, her strong legs landing lightly and launching off the low roof on the other side of the courtyard, wings catching the wind. Your stomach plummets on her first leap, and you grip the saddle tightly, terror closing your throat tightly against the scream that builds up inside your chest.

Wind rushes in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat the next loudest thing. You take a steadying breath and open your eyes to a picture of the castle, and the city beyond, laid out below you, towers as small as a child’s toy blocks, the river coiled around the eastern bank of the city, glittering like a serpent in the morning light. Nox’s wings are huge fully spread out, and when you twist in the saddle, you see that her back legs are stretched out behind, her big paws tilting one way or the other, adjusting her flight the way a true raven’s tail feathers would. She tips her whole body slightly to the side, starting a slow, circling descent, calling out joyfully, her rough croaks echoing eerily back to you, the sound bouncing off of the stone below. For a moment, it sounds like there’s a whole flock of gryphons, rather than just Nox.

You wonder if she’s lonely, being the only one here.

Nox settles back in the courtyard and sticks her beak in the fountain while you try to dismount. Your legs don’t fully cooperate, and you slide sideways out of the saddle, the returned grasp of gravity unkind and unrelenting. Solid arms catch you before you hit the ground, scooping you out of the air with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.

“There you are,” John says soothingly. “You want some tea, love?”

You nod, still too frozen to insist on him putting you down. You’re not certain your legs will hold you.

“Nox, you naughty girl, you were just supposed to ‘op down! What if you’d dropped ‘er, eh? You’d be feelin’ pretty sorry about it now, wouldn’t you?” Ghost scolds the gryphon, standing next to her at the fountain, his hands on his hips. She just uses her beak to splash water at him in response, which earns her a pointed finger. “Oi! Don’t you sass me, you daft bird, she wun’t even buckled in.”

Nox deftly snatches the glove off of his hand and launches herself up to the roof, where she settles in on the tiles and pretends to gnaw on the leather, her cat’s eyes wide as saucers, tail twitching back and forth.

Kyle offers you a cup of tea and a smile that's on the shy side. You thank him, realizing a little too late that John has taken his seat with you still in his lap, his arms looped around you securely. “John,” you say sternly, twisting to look at him. “Did we not talk about this?”

“I don’t believe this was on your list of complaints, actually.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whiskers twitching as he smiles. "Besides, you're trembling. I know I behaved terribly yesterday, but all I want is to take care of you. Are you so afraid that you'll like it?"

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I think people are getting the wrong idea about what my presence here means, and cozying up to you will not help matters." You hold the cup and saucer a little bit apart, so that the rattle of dishes doesn't draw attention to the fact that you really are shaking, and would have spilled all over yourself if the cup was filled all the way up. Not that there would be any disguising the fact from John, the way he wraps around you. "You know that this will only complicate things."

“Did someone say something to you?” John asks.

You take a sip of tea, eyes tracking Ghost as he took the last seat at the table. Typical of them to invite you to a table with only four chairs. “Tiphanie, the girl that was sent to help me this morning? She didn’t say anything outright, but it certainly sounded like she expects that I’ll be staying. And something about me being held captive by giants. And that Ghost was gone for three years? What on earth were you doing all that time?”

Ghost shrugged. “Told you already. Was keepin’ an eye on you.”

“For three years?”

“Started off just droppin’ by, but figured it’d be better to stick around. Was.” He sits back in his chair and folds his hands together. “Din’t ‘ave nothin’ better to be doin’.”

“You did, actually,” John says tiredly. “You were supposed to be the commander of my knights. Had to train Keller up for it instead.”

“An’ ‘e’s a sight better at the job than I’d’ve been,” Ghost replies. “Did you a favour, din’t I?”

“Wouldn’t’ve found Sweetpea without him either,” Kyle points out. “And Alex is much better with people than Ghost has ever been. It probably was for the best.”

You glance at Johnny, uncharacteristically quiet across the the table. He meets your eyes only for a moment, and then looks down at his hands, frowning. You're not sure if this is because of yesterday, or if something else is bothering him. He sneaks another look up, and drops his eyes again immediately when he finds you still watching him.

If it is about yesterday, you're glad that at least one of them has the decency to be ashamed of themselves. Price isn't acting the least bit concerned. His fingers are dug into the top of your thigh firmly, and his thumb keeps tapping a rhythmless pattern against your hip, distracting and wholly inappropriate. Kyle won't quite meet your eyes, but he seems hopeful that you'll let it slide and forgive him if he’s careful to make no further waves.

You'll forgive all three of them from a distance once you go home. You want your life back. You’ll do a better job of seizing that freedom this time— you think you might finally work up the nerve to talk to the blacksmith's tall apprentice, with those coal dark eyes that always soften when he looks at you. You’ve thought him handsome for a long while, despite, or perhaps because of, the scars that ripple over his skin, and now that you know that he hasn't spoken to you because of Ghost's interference, you feel hopeful that he might— Oh. Of course.

It's choking, how tight a leash these men have put on you.

“Was there something that you all needed from me?” you ask stiffly. “Or can I go?”

“You need to eat something, first off,” John says, squeezing your hip lightly. “Then down to the city to have that dress fitted, and to meet with Farah.”

“When I requested a woman to accompany me, I was anticipating a longer stay,” you point out. “I’m sure I’ll be fine without a chaperone for the rest of the day, don’t you?”

“I’d allow that, if you’ll stick close to me.” John’s voice is practically a purr, his lips too close to your ear.

You imagine tossing your cooling tea into his face, which is almost as satisfying as actually doing it would be, and freer from consequence. “I will not.”

He laughs. “Then Farah it is. You’re angry with three of us, and I don’t trust Ghost alone with you.”

“What did I do?” Ghost asked, clearly offended by the notion.

You sigh, and resign yourself to being watched. Even if this Farah person answers to John, you’ll be glad for a few moments away from these unbearably pushy men.

“We can move our little lesson to this afternoon,” Kyle offers, brown eyes hopeful. “And I’d like to join you this morning too. It’s been a while since I popped down to visit Rosie.”

“Why not head there now?” John asks. “Get a visit in, make sure things are in order, and Ghost can bring Sweetpea on Nox in a bit, if she’s up for a proper flight.”

Kyle gets up without objection. “Yes sir. I’ll see you there, Sweetpea.” His eyes linger on yours for a long moment before he turns to go.

You lean forward to set your tea on the table, and push John’s arms away roughly, taking Kyle’s abandoned seat rather than remain in John’s lap for another moment. He smiles serenely when you glare at him from your new perch, as unaffected by your ire as a mountain would be by a single drop of rain.

You regret kissing him. You hate that he’s handsome and smug and insufferable. It frustrates you to end that there’s so much of you that wants to melt under his touch, that there’s a glacial, undeniable give to your resolve. Warmth spreads through you every time he puts his hands on you, every time he gives you that cheeky grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He gives you one of those smiles as he picks up your abandoned tea cup and sips from it, his mouth where yours had been, watching you so that you know it’s no accident. Yet more heat curls in your belly, like the press of his lips against the rim of the cup can still reach you.

Hateful man.

You feel a little better once you’re sitting in Nox’s saddle again, pretending not to notice the way both Johns stare when you shift your dress out of the way and buckle your legs into the waiting straps. And when you wrap yourself extra securely around Ghost, pressing your whole body against his back, it’s certainly not because you want either of them to feel any kind of jealousy.

This time you’re better prepared for the leap skyward, and your stomach doesn’t remain somewhere on the ground below. With Ghost to cling to, you feel safer looking down, even if it does still send a jolt through you.

The world spreads out below, distant and beautiful, like a painting with minute brushstrokes. You can even see a glimpse of green fields beyond the spread of forest, a near glimpse of home. It seems so close from here, but still far out of reach. Nox begins her descent only a moment later, and the glimpse of the far countryside dips out of view again. She didn’t have to climb so high, but you appreciate that she did, that the gryphon is so keen to show you the world from her perspective.

Simon touches the back of your hands, where they’re clasped tight around his middle, thumb running across your knuckles. Your heart aches curiously. You want to pull his mask off and see if you’re right, if he really has been living in your town as Simon the blacksmith’s quiet apprentice, if he’s the owner of the brown eyes that sparked warmth in your belly whenever he looked at you.

Maybe, if he is (and you’re nearly certain of it), he’ll come with you, when you leave once more. You’re afraid to ask such a thing, to test the weight of his oath to protect you against his loyalty to John. And John… Well, that was never going to go anywhere, no matter how much his kiss shook you to the core. There’s no sense mourning a choice you never had. He would find a queen elsewhere, and you would all be happier for it.

Just one more day. You’ll be glad to leave this behind, won’t you? It’s not as though it feels like any kind of homecoming, to return to this cursed place.

There are a few shrieks from the street below as Nox swoops down and lands on the cobblestone, onlookers ducking behind carts and into alleyways, although all of the terrified faces relax somewhat when they recognize you and Ghost, and then fear is replaced with wide-eyed excitement, whispered conversations springing up around you as you lean down to unbuckle your straps. Ghost is faster with his, and hops down to help you with the straps on your other leg while you’re still working on the first.

He lifts you clear of Nox’s saddle, and the closest shop door opens. “Princess!” Kyle’s sister, Rosie, rushes out of the shop and embraces you. She’s as pretty as Kyle is handsome, with a beaming smile that creases her face in just the same way. “Goodness, it’s been years. How have you been?”

“Well,” you say. “Life outside the city has been good to me.”

“I see that. I was so glad to see that you’d gained weight, when Kate sent your measurements. We always worried about you when you were younger. No appetite.” She pulls back and cups your face fondly. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, my lady. It will be good for the people to see you again, to know that you’re well.”

Her enthusiasm surprises you. You had always rather liked Rosie, when she worked at the castle, but you hadn’t expected a greeting like this, after so long. “I hadn’t realized— I mean, my father—”

Rosie laughs, the movement of her head making the pile of coily curls on top of her head bounce slightly. “Did you think we counted you party to your father’s crimes? No, princess. You’ve always been loved. There isn’t a soul in this city, perhaps not even in the whole of the country, who isn’t glad to know you’re safe and hale.”

Your heart twists. You had expected indifference, that no one would care one way or the other if you were here or gone. You hadn’t even considered that the people would be disappointed that you aren’t planning to stay. It’s one thing, to say you wish to leave to Price, but another to say so to Rosie, and a heavy thought indeed, knowing you’ll make a speech over it tomorrow.

“Come on, in we go,” Ghost says firmly, motioning for you and Rosie to get inside. “Keep a look out, hey Nox?” The Gryphon makes a low, gurgling sound in response and sits on her haunches beside the door.

There's a prickle of magic in the air, but perhaps it's just Kyle, the energy that crackles around him wherever he goes. He stands next to a dress form with a beautiful dark green gown hanging off of it. It's off the shoulder, with pearly beads and clusters of embroidered leaves and flowers in a pale cream colour all around the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves, giving way to beautiful lace. You think that maybe the colour difference is too stark— You would have chosen a more subtle accent— but you politely say nothing of it. Perhaps this is what's fashionable these days. You certainly won't ask Rosie to make a serious alteration like that with less than a day of lead time. You only have to wear the dress for a few hours anyway.

Rosie and one of her assistants shoo Kyle away, and start taking the dress off the form. Ghost joins Kyle on a bench on the other side of the room, his bulky frame taking up most of the available space. Another assistant ushers you into another room and begins helping you take off your dress and settle a few extra layers of petticoats over the ones you're already wearing.

The shop bell rings, and you hear Nox make a churring sound. "Hello," a woman says, her pretty, accented voice carrying through the space without growing too loud, like she naturally knows how to command attention. "Sir Garrick, Sir Ghost. Good to see you."

"Always good to see you, Farah," Kyle says pleasantly. “It’s been too long.”

“Hardly. We never see each other when times are good, Garrick.”

“Times are good now,” Kyle replies.

“Hm.”

You twist to look behind you, thinking about going back into the other room to introduce yourself, and Rosie accidentally stabs you with a pin. “Hold still, my lady,” she chides. “We’ll just be another moment.”

Farah pushes past the curtain and stalks into the room. She’s small, even shorter than you are, but she has a hunter’s lean to her stride, and a sword strapped to her back. She’s dressed practically, leather pauldron on her left arm pieced together with her bracer with a jack chain, nearly balanced on the other arm, but without the heavier pauldron, to keep her sword arm freer. Her leather breastplate is scarred from battle, but well-maintained, and a small hand-crossbow that glitters with magic hangs from her thick belt, along with a knife and a quiver of bolts. Her hair is braided back from her strong-boned face, and although her expression is serious, thick brows drawn into straight, unimpressed lines, her dark eyes have a curious glint in them. “Princess,” she says as you turn, earning yourself another pin-prick. “I am Farah Karim. I’ve been told you have need of me.”

“John insists that I’m not safe without a sword-wielding escort,” you say wryly. “I disagree, but his knights will hardly let me out of their sight as it is.”

“Could be assassins lurking about, my lady,” Rosie says, warm brown eyes wide and worried. “We would hate to lose you so quickly, after just getting you back.”

You glance at Farah, and spot the slightest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You see what I’m dealing with?” you ask. “Everyone thinks I’m in terrible danger.”

“The danger likely comes tonight. With their envoy.”

You tip your head to the side. “No love for our neighbours, Commander?”

Farah huffs, crossing her arms and widening her stance reflexively. “No. My father’s lands are close to the border. I’ve seen the worst of them. While you were locked away in the palace, I saw villages burned, people slaughtered, foul magics leeching life from the very soil. You would be wise to be wary.”

“I suppose it’s naivete to think the peace can last.”

“No. It is hopeful. But you must project strength, or they will see that hope as weakness. Your cousin has given them leverage to oust John. So it falls to you to correct the course. We cannot fight another war amongst ourselves, or the wolves will be at our throats.” The challenge in her eyes is immistakable. Her perspective is valuable, and she offers it without pretense, as both warning an a test. Are you willing to listen? Or are you like so many others of your station, in your country and without, that only hear what they wish to hear?

“You don’t see minding me as beneath you?” you ask. “You lead a company of soldiers.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “My fighters are in good hands. Besides, I’m curious about you, princess. We might have been friends, had our paths not diverged. Perhaps we still can be.”

“I’d like that,” you admit.

Farah walks back out to speak with Ghost and Kyle while Rosie finishes marking adjustments. When you’re finally freed from the dress and get dressed again, Kyle and Ghost are both gone, and Farah is inspecting some spools of ribbon idly.

"I sent them home," she explains. "I suspect Ghost will be nearby and watching, but Gaz has gone back to his tower. He says he will be there all afternoon if you still wish to learn magic tricks from him." She wiggles her fingers vaguely, eyes creased with a smile.

"I think I should. It can't hurt to try."

"No. And it will give me a chance to go over castle wards and security."

Nodding, you bid farewell to Rosie and her assistants, and step out onto the street with Farah by your side. Nox is still waiting outside, basking in a block of sunshine. She stirs, getting up and stretching like a house cat, her feather-tufted tail lashing lazily behind her. You smile when Nox settles into her stride behind you and Farah, sticking her beak over your shoulder. You hook your fingers over the smooth black beak. “Just us girls, hey Nox?” you croon.

She churrs in response.

“The beast likes you,” Farah says approvingly. “Gryphons tend to be disagreeable, unless they’re hand-reared. Nox has famously bitten more than a few fingers.”

“Yours too?” you ask.

Farah laughs, shaking her head. “I know how to keep my hands to myself.”

“At least someone around here does,” you grouse.

“Price?” she asks, raising her thick brows. “Do you want me to speak with him?”

“I don’t think there’s much point. This will all be over soon enough.”

Farah frowns at that, her dark eyes studying you sidelong. “It doesn’t give him the right, no matter who he is to you. If he cannot behave, I will gladly remove a finger or two to remind him.”

“Really? I thought you were one of John’s people.”

“He may be the king, but I am not one of his sworn knights, nor am I a member of the army. He cannot command me, he can only ask if he wants something done,” Farah says, and there’s something in her tone that tells you that she’s had to remind John of this fact more than once. “If I am to be loyal to anyone in court, it will be you, and you alone.”

“Just like that?”

“I have a good feeling about you, princess. I think your people need you, and you will need allies of your own.”

Your stomach twists again. You’re beginning to doubt your resolution to leave. Maybe you really are needed here. Maybe you bring something vital that’s been missing for too long. Maybe things aren’t going as well as you had thought— You have to admit, your perspective is still limited, for all that you were living among ordinary citizens all this time. Your town is a prosperous one, along a good trade route, too far from any borders to face any significant dangers. There has been little strife, no awful storms, no disasters. This can’t be the case for the whole kingdom.

Maybe you should stay a few extra days, and go through the accounts and reports from the last few years, at least. If there’s something that’s been missed, you might have better eyes to find it. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to stay on just a few days more. Especially once you’d made your speech and no one was labouring under the idea that you’d be staying forever. It would be easier to speak to people if you really were no longer a princess.

On to better things, as John had said.

Maybe there’s a place here for you. Not as a queen, but an advisor. Something to speak to John about later, perhaps. You’re sure he’d be happy for an excuse to keep you close.

But then again, maybe not. It’s a bitter thought, but his interest in you is very likely just based in your lineage, your claim to the throne. He has no need to keep you close once you’ve pledged your support to him. Better to send you away, lest you rescind that support when you have a large enough disagreement.

John is nothing if not pragmatic. You’ll be no use to him by the end of the day tomorrow.

And that’s good. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To go home, to be left alone, to take upon yourself a destiny of your own, that has nothing to do with where you’re from, and everything to do with where you’re going next?

“How did you become a mercenary?” you ask. Better to think about something other than yourself before you drive yourself mad with what-ifs and maybes.

“My father arranged a marriage for me, and I wanted to be a knight, like my brother Hadir was in training to be. It was an argument. In the end, I saw only two paths. I could do what was expected, but I knew even as a girl that would not be tolerable. I was too proud of my skills, eager to fight and defend people that needed me. So I took the second path, and left my home. I started off as a sell-sword, mostly caravan work until Hadir left his knight-master to come work with me, and the two of us started making a name.” She gives you a wry smile. “My parents were none too pleased with Hadir either. But they still speak to him.”

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

“Once in a while they send me a letter to remind me that the man who wished to marry me still hasn’t found another. That he’s still open to the match.” She rolls her eyes. “I think if he hasn’t been able to find a wife in all this time, there’s a reason for it.”

You laugh lightly. She has a good point.

By the time the two of you meander back to the palace, you do feel like you’re fast friends. Farah has a way of opening up without having to say much at all, her dark, pretty eyes sincere. Maybe it's something shared between you, not words exchanged, but who you both expected to become, how you both were raised to be something you wanted no part of. Farah is bolder than you, decisive and candle-quick, and you are a slow trickle of water, always taking the path of least resistance, but somehow you were both born of the same stuff. You understand each other.

Nox flies off when you reach the castle gates, and Farah and you split at the foot of Gaz's tower, her off to meet with the knight commander, and you to see if there's anything that you can learn. The book that Gaz had lent to you had been easy reading, especially with the annotations in his neat, scratchy writing, and the first two chapters had been more reminder of what you already knew. The third was about disrupting and dispelling magic, which seemed like it would be a useful place to start your lessons. Even if you expect that greater magics will be beyond your grasp, you can protect yourself by disrupting spells used against you.

By the time you reach the workshop door, you’re a bit warm and out of breath, the countless spiraling steps more effort than you’d like to admit, especially after a walk through the city. Why Kyle liked it was apparent just from looking at him, but you have a softer physique, and you’ve become quite unused to stairs over the years away from the castle. There are very few buildings taller than two stories back in town. You halt outside the door to catch your breath, glancing out the narrow window, through the slight warping of uneven glass panes.

“Isna right, Gaz, and even ye know it!” Soap’s heated voice seeps through the door. Kyle’s response is too low to make out, but Soap’s next words are clear. “She deserves better! Been nothin’ but kind to us.”

“She’ll get over it, Soap. You know it’s for the best.”

“The best for himself, sure, but I dinnae ken if it’s best for her.”

You sigh, torn between the impulse to eavesdrop and knowing that it’s wrong to do so. It’s not difficult to surmise that they’re talking about you. It would explain the look on Johnny’s face this morning and the feeling that things are not quite right that has been worrying at you all day. Perhaps John does intend to make you stay on in some capacity, to prop up his rule, which would be contrary to everything you’ve said you want. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to get the truth of the matter out of Soap later however— He seems uncomfortable with any level of duplicity.

The knock on the door silences the low, indecipherable sound of Kyle’s response. You rub your knuckles idly as the door opens, the tingle of magic clinging to your skin like cobwebs.

“Hello, Sweetpea.” Kyle greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you decided to come up. Did you get through the reading I gave you?” He throws a look over his shoulder at Soap that cleary says go away.

“I did. I read through the first three chapters— I was wondering if we could focus on dispelling magic? I’m familiar enough with the bare basics, and if I’m only going to have time for one lesson, this seems like a good place to focus.” You reach out to brush Soap’s shoulder as he moves past you. “Can we talk later?”

“Of course, bonnie,” Soap says. “I’m always at yer service.”

“If you go find Farah, she might appreciate any insights you have on castle security. I think she went to speak with the knight commander.”

“Aye, could be helpful there. Go’ a nose for these things.” He taps his nose, his grin tinged with relief that you don’t seem angry with him for yesterday. “We’ll talk later, then.”

You step into the workshop and he steps out, and Kyle closes the door between you. “Dispelling magic could be a good place to start… How are you at sensing magic? If you have a natural affinity for it we can breeze past the first half of the lesson.” He takes your hand and gently pulls you over to the circle of iridescent stone.

“I think I might— I get this prickle when there’s magic around. I can’t say I always notice it, but I haven’t always thought to pay attention.” You sit on the ground inside the circle, noticing the way the buzz of the workshop fades away once you’re fully inside it. “I’ve been paying more attention here. More magic to notice, I suppose.”

“And a new environment.” Kyle says. “It’s easy to get used to the ambient magic in familiar spaces. You’ll get more attuned to the castle the longer you stay.”

“I hope so. I get all tingly whenever we’re in a room together,” you say, laughing lightly.

He settles down across from you, close enough that his knees nearly touch yours. “You sure that’s just the magic?” he asks, flashing his pretty smile at you. “It could be something else.”

“Could it?” You give him a smile in return, but yours is sharp around the edges, reminding him to mind himself. You’ve gotten a little weary of the flirting— It’s more John’s fault than it is his, admittedly, but you’re just tired of all the attention. You don’t want to flirt, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and even if you really do like him plenty. You just want to learn a bit of magic, and it would be nice if he could focus. “Or do you think that maybe being handsome has skewed your perspective to think that every young man and woman you meet is attracted to you?”

“Could be that,” he agrees, unperturbed. “But no matter. Lets get to work.”

He runs through some breathing exercises, half-familiar ones that you remember the old wizard making you do for hours on end. Luckily Gaz seems satisfied with your control, and moves on quickly.

He asks you to keep your eyes closed while he sketches runes in the air, asking you to identify them. “It will help you sense when someone is sending a spell your way, or using magic in your vicinity,” he explains. “Knowing what’s going on is the first step to knowing how to dispel it.”

The first rune feels warm, and tastes oddly of smoke. “Fire,” you say easily. Kyle hums with approval, and sketches a new one. It’s cool, and drips down your spine. “Water?”

“Good. This one should be a bit trickier.”

It’s not. You’re familiar with light spells, you come across them more often than almost anything else. “Light.”

He runs through a few more. Earth, ice, moon, sun, shadow, music, metal, lock, key. All components of spells, and not spells on their own, each one leaving impressions on your skin, tastes on your tongue. Kyle seems more and more impressed as he works through his list, and you’re both laughing before long, enjoying a lesson that feels more like a game. “You have a knack for this. Figures the old wizard couldn’t see your talent— I had to fight him to get him to take me seriously too.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Let’s see… We can try an actual spell now. You can open your eyes, if you like.”

You open your eyes to look at him, pleased that he thinks you’re doing well. He smiles so prettily at you that at first you don’t notice the way magic curls around you, sliding up your neck like warm hands. You’re too distracted by the way Kyle smells, cedar and spice and ink and paper, the little scar just below his cheekbone, his wide hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes, the soft curve of his lips… You’ve always thought him handsome of course, you have eyes after all, but you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

It’s a charm spell. Something harmless for you to practice shredding apart. It makes sense for him to throw something innocuous at you, but he’s misjudged how much you already like him, and the charm is throwing you well past friendly suggestibility to wanting so badly that your hands tremble.

Knowing what it is, it’s easy to see how to unravel it, but you don’t really care to. It gives you an excuse to do something you want to do anyway. You pitch onto your knees and lean forward, bracing your hands on his thighs. His sweet, forest brown eyes widen with surprise, and he catches your face between his pretty, long-fingered hands, holding you back before you can kiss him.

“Wait,” he says quickly, his voice a quiet, anxious rasp. “It’s a charm spell, Sweetpea, I didn’t mean— You don’t really want to kiss me.” His fingers curl around your neck, like he’s fighting every instinct in him to hold you away and not draw you closer.

“Yes I do,” you say. “I just want to blame it on the spell.”

“Prove it,” he says.

It’s as simple as pulling a loose thread from knitting, unraveling magic that tastes sweet as fine white sugar on your tongue. Your cheeks burn, embarrassment settling in your stomach heavily. You should probably still be angry with him, you shouldn’t be thinking about how plush his mouth looks, or about how his pretty eyes fix on yours intently, the fire that he hides so neatly behind his quick-wit and natural charm rising to the surface. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you say softly.

“Probably not,” he agrees.

And still, neither one of you tries to move away. He wets his lips, his gaze settling on your mouth. You swallow nervously. “Kyle—”

“Hells,” he says, angling his head slightly and closing the distance, slow enough that you could pull away, but quickly enough that he won’t lose his nerve halfway. His mouth is as soft as you anticipated, lips sliding over yours slow and sweet.

You move closer, and Kyle shifts his legs to either side of your knees to give you enough room, hands sliding down to your waist. You hum against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his solid shoulders. He kisses you for a long while before his tongue slips between your lips. He licks into your mouth, moaning, and the sound is just as pretty as he is, sending honey-sweet arousal through your veins to pool deep in your belly.

It would be easy to kiss Kyle forever— He makes no demands, keeps his hands on your waist or curled around your back, toying with, but making no attempt to undo, the buttons that march up your spine. He feels safe, and you know that he won’t push you for more, the way John would. Kyle keeps himself in check, holds himself back. It makes you all the more ready to melt for him.

It’s several long moments before he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hot and hazy like a summer afternoon. “Princess,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “I need to tell you something.”

There’s a soft chime from his desk, and John’s voice speaks into the workroom, as clear as if he were right there with you both. Kyle freezes, a hound caught with his nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been, hands tightening on your hips.

“Gaz? Is Sweetpea still with you?”

Kyle clears his throat. He looks at you so guiltily, you almost feel like you’re the one that’s done something wrong. “Um. Yes sir.”

“Good. The Lyudireki ambassador is here, and Kate too, if you’d like to speak with her before you join us, Sweetpea. I believe she’s gone to your room to wait for you.”John’s voice sounds amused. It makes Kyle nervous, if his grip is anything to go by. “Gaz, I’d like you to find Soap, and bring him to the green parlour. He can be a wolf, if he likes. It’s up to him.”

“Yes sir. We’ll be down in a minute.” The chime sounds a second time, and Kyle relaxes slightly. “Old man has terrible timing. Come on, Sweetpea. We’d better get to it.”

He stands and pulls you up along with him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you remind him gently. "I kissed you."

"No, I kissed you, Sweetpea. And it's my fault you wanted to. You wouldn't have if I hadn't charmed you." He sighed. "Price is going to—"

"Kyle, I can kiss anyone I want," you say stiffly. You resent the implication that a Price owns you, that he has any say in who you kiss or what you do.

"Well. I suppose so," he says doubtfully. "But we should go. You'll want to speak with Kate, yeah?"

Your stomach churns slightly. Kate has been notably absent for all this time, conveniently unavailable to explain. She knew. She knew everything, and didn't give you so much as a heads up. "Yes. I have some questions I'd like answered."

"Don't be too hard on her," Kyle said. "John didn't give her a choice."

"Everyone always has choices, Kyle. She should have told me what was going on."

"Would you have done things differently if she had?"

"What could be done differently? I'm not the foolish little girl everyone seems to think I am. I understand my position in all this better than anyone."

Kyle seems to have to response to that. He’s quiet all the way down the stairs, lost in his thoughts. You let him stay there.

It would be nice if everyone wasn't too afraid of what John might do or say to be honest with you. Although you do know that loyalty like he demands from his men isn't born from fear alone, or your father would never have been deposed. There’s love there too, and real trust.

Kyle leaves you at your door with a lingering kiss. You try not to blame him for the way his eyes dart down the hall before he does so, even if it makes you want to shove him away. You offer him a small smile instead, and step into your room.

Thanks for your patience everyone! I know it took me a hot minute to get this chapter out, but we're back, baby! And we're kissing Kyle about it.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[lowkeyrobin]

hello

First of all I love your stories like Trevor Spengler is so goooood!

I was wondering I was scrolling through your posts and saw jaeden Martell as an actor one shot?

I was wondering if you could possibly do a headcannon what it would be like dating him please?

Like a sfw version and a NSFW version please

Absolutely no pressure.

And if you don't do that sort of thing I understand lol

Have a miraculous day lovely and keep up the good work ✌️😄

yeah of course!! and thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying them! ; also I did see your other thing about apologizing for the NSFW, and you're totally fine, no biggie! I wanted to put this here too bc idk if u saw me reply to it before I deleted it ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

JAEDEN MARTELL ; dating shenanigans

summary ; dating stuff with jaeden

warnings ; language

word count ; 564

masterlist

literally a picture perfect duo

one because he's jaeden martell and two because you look so good together

both of your Instagram pages are filled with pictures of each other

honestly, yall don't have any haters, you worked on a few movies together, so people have been shipping you for YEARSSSS

every once in a while you scroll through tiktok and find a few handfuls of edits of you and jaeden + your characters

they're the cutest thing ever

you always like, repost and favorite them

it's so funny going back and seeing the ops reaction lmao

sometimes you do some cutesy photoshoots together cause like, why not?

always indulging into each other's interests

you two religiously go on picnic dates

always going on roadtrips to go see something new

you find all sorts of new little restaurants and places to go on Facebook (thank your parents for that one... it's an awful place but it's good for finding new things)

you guys met on the set of IT

it was so awkward at first with everyone meeting each other and whatnot

but after a day or two it was like you'd all known each other since forever

you quickly formed a special bond with jaeden, like just bonding over a lot of the same things and your feelings

people were shipping your characters but the interviews post it2017 and it2019 releases 😭 got the fans all over you two

you had a minor role in defending jacob but the edits of your characters went hard

same thing with metal lords, like 😭

you had about the same size role as hunter so pretty much a main character but your character barely talked to his outside of with hunter 😭

those editors were struggling but feeding

he was the first to confess, surprisingly

it was like a bit before he got the role for jacob barber

he took you out for coffee and a long walk through a park and stuff

thing like hozier vibes if that makes sense

bro became a poet talking to you like that

he couldn't look at you because he was embarrassed the whole time but you were staring at him while walking. like a mix of shock and happiness

you found a tree stump to place your coffee cup (he'd already finished his) placed it down, and just kissed him

cause wtf did he think was gonna happen? speaking all romantic like that like you wouldn't kiss him...

he's not a big pda person, maybe a 4/10

will happily hold your hand or give you small pecks on the cheek/hand/lips but nothing else

he's not jealous at all either so there's no reason for his pda level to just go from 2-10 at all

on the topic of jealousy, it's very rare for him to be jealous of you

he trusts you and it's not something he really worries about when it comes to other people

you're not that jealous over him either, yall got that healthy mutual trust

and finally, some songs that kind of sum up your little relationship 🙏❤️

cloudbusting ; kate bush

crush culture ; conan gray

bourgeoisieses ; conan gray

empire now ; hozier

wildflower and barely ; hozier & allison russell

too sweet ; hozier

lost it to trying paper towns mix ; son lux

thinking bout love ; wild rivers & wrabel

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Pedrotober Masterlist

I am thrilled to participate in Pedrotober 2024 hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag! View the full prompt list HERE or enjoy my submissions throughout the month of October!

Note: As a writer, I took some pretty drastic liberties with some of the prompts to make them work from a writing perspective. All prompts have been adapted to fit a specific character and will be listed as the month goes on!

Another Note: Note: Drabbles marked with *** are rated E, Minors DNI. All drabbles list specific warnings, if applicable.

Day 1: Mr. Fantastic | "Thank Heaven" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: Frankie can't help but admire his choice of costume for Halloween.

Day 2: Kieran Bromance | "The Competition" Pairing: Mr. Ben x f!reader Summary: Your boyfriend and his arch-nemesis face off in your school's yearly decorating contest.

Day 3: Nails | "All Along" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: Frankie paints your nails.

Day 4: Silva | "Ghosts" Pairing: Silva x Jake Summary: It felt like he was being followed by ghosts. Or perhaps, after all this time, he was still following them.

Day 5: Esquire Bonuses | “Get in the Truck”*** Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: You won’t get in the truck until Joel tells you why you’re going. He shows you instead.

Day 6: Dieter Bravo | "KitKat" Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader Summary: You and Dieter learn your love languages.

Day 7: Ezra | "Countdown" Pairing: Ezra x reader Summary: He has to let you go.

Day 8: Corona | "Lucky" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: Frankie sets you up on a blind date.

Day 9: Fink the Fox | "The Backyard" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: You watch Frankie and his daughter play in the backyard.

Day 10: Fav Tee/Candids | "Pedialite" Pairing: Mr. Ben x f!reader Summary: Do you think some people have killed themselves over nausea?

Day 11: Any Max | "Turn"*** Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: Joel convinces you to watch a movie, and then convinces you that he's far better than the man on screen.

Day 12: Rainbow Pants | "The Best Day" Pairing: Javi G x f!reader Summary: A nasty stomach bug forces you to miss Javi's Walk of Fame ceremony.

Day 13: Javi G | "Mariposa"*** Pairing: Javi G x f!reader Summary: Emptiness can always be filled with love. A VERY special collab with @alyssamariag and @imdrinkingpedro.

Day 14: Freebie! | "The Fox" Pairing: Javi G x f!reader (Set in the "Mariposa" Universe) Summary: Sofia gives you and Javi a gift.

Day 15: The Materialists | "Different"*** Paring: Randy x reader Summary: When you meet a stranger at the bar, your shared heartbreak shows you that you're more alike than you are different. Rated M for themes of depression.

Day 16: Whiskey | "Right Place" Pairing: Agent Whiskey x f!reader Summary: Whiskey has been distant lately, but when an undercover op goes wrong, everything becomes clear.

Day 17: Arm Sling | "Useless"*** Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: Joel's injured...but that doesn't mean he's useless.

Day 18: Oberyn Martell | "Helpless"*** Pairing: Oberyn Martell x f!reader Summary: You sometimes wish you could convince yourself to leave, but then he reminds you why you stay.

Day 19: SDCC | "Excitement" Pairing: Mr. Ben x reader Summary: Ben makes sure you've seen the sizzle reel for Marvel's newest film.

Day 20: Frankie Morales | "Quiet Moments" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: Crossword puzzles with Frankie.

Day 21: Curls | "Picture" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: You can see your future with Frankie so clearly.

Day 22: Gladiator II | "Fate"*** Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader Summary: Two souls that were never meant to cross paths find each other, even as death lurks in every corner.

Day 23: Din Djarin | "Blaster" Pairing: Din Djarin x reader Summary: You and Din differ in opinion when it comes to the Loth-cat that keeps showing up.

Day 24: Sundance | "Before"*** Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader Summary: Whispered words long to fall from your tongue as Marcus makes a vow to you in the moonlight.

Day 25: Javier Pena | "Lies" Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Summary: Your entire relationship is formed on lies until you realize that the only one telling the truth is him.

Day 26: Vanity Fair Cover | "Domesticity" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: Four little slices of life with Frankie Morales.

Day 27: The Last of Us | "Promise" Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: The promises you whisper. Contains major spoilers for TLOU Part II.

Day 28: Any Marcus | "After"*** Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader Summary: At times you know that the man who has returned to you is the same one who left, and in other ways, he's entirely different.

Day 29: The Uninvited | "S'mores"*** Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: Your camping trip gets canceled, but Joel finds a way to make it up to you.

Day 30: Fav Awards 'fit | "The Shirt"*** Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Summary: If there's one thing you know about Javier Peña, it's that he really loves the way you look in his shirt.

Day 31: SAG Awards | "For You" Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Summary: He's never been prouder than in this moment.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hi, me again, this time with the prompt "6. coffee in bed" 🙏

Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on AO3!

Buck has long since resigned himself to the fact that his sleep schedule is well and truly fucked. 24 hour shifts were all well and good in his 20s, but now at the ripe old age of 32 he collapses as soon as he gets home like someone’s hit a hard reset switch, and he never knows if he’ll wake up in an hour or ten. Frankly, he doesn’t know how Bobby is still upright, though he’d never say it to his face.

So, blinking awake on a Sunday (maybe) morning (possibly) in June, he has no idea how long he’s been down. His eyes are glued shut, so probably a while. He throws an arm out and it smacks immediately into Eddie, who grunts.

“Morning?” It’s sort of a greeting and sort of a question, and he feels weight shift on the bed as Eddie cranes to check the clock.

“9:15.”

“Mm.” Buck scrubs a hand over his face and blinks open his eyes. Eddie looks like he's just been taken out of one of those vacuum seal bags you pack your clothes in when you're trying to save space in a suitcase, and Buck has to lean over and kiss him about it.

"Oh my god, Buck," Eddie mumbles, pushing him away with his whole hand smushed against his face. "Did you eat roadkill for dinner?"

"Don't you insult Bobby's casserole like that." Buck goes for Eddie's neck instead but ends up yawning against his jugular. "Fuck. I'm gonna get coffee." He starts to roll over but Eddie slings an arm around him and pulls him back down.

"It's being taken care of," he says, burying his face into Buck's shoulder. "Act surprised."

Buck makes a questioning face at him, but his boyfriend is busy being half asleep again and nuzzling his pec, so he just lays there squinting at the ceiling and wondering if Eddie has developed some sort of coffee based telekinesis. He's started thinking about practical applications in the field (does it have to be hot coffee? How big a container can it be in? Can they just start remotely dumping venti iced lattes on fires?) when Chris enters the room, carefully transporting two mugs. Eddie flops onto his back and then flops upright, passing the mugs to Buck and pulling Chris down for a kiss on the forehead.

"Happy father's day," Chris says, only scrunching his nose a little at the display of affection.

"Thanks, kid," Eddie smiles at him, already flapping a hand at Buck to get his coffee back. He takes a sip as Chris leaves the room again, and Buck holds onto the other warm ceramic in his hands, suddenly feeling very awake and a little awkward.

"Uh- I can head out, if you want."

Eddie squints at him over his coffee. "Why?"

Buck waves towards the kitchen. "You know, if you and Chris want to spend the day together."

Eddie's still making a face at him. "Buck-"

Whatever he was going to say is interrupted by Chris returning, even more carefully balancing a tray of food in his arms. He sets it down on the bed and Eddie eagerly pulls it over, grabbing a waffle piled high with whip cream.

"Cards first!" Chris admonishes, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, o-kay, okay," Eddie laughs, picking up one of two folded pieces of paper tucked under the plates.

"Two cards!" Buck grins, stretching his foot under the covers to nudge Chris. "Your dad's a lucky guy."

Chris makes the same face his dad had just been making. "One's for you, Buck."

Buck's pretty sure his face makes the exact expression of the emoticon with the colon and the capital o. "Me?"

"Yeah," Chris says, like obviously Buck gets a father's day card, duh, don't be stupid. Buck kind of just freezes there, rebooting, until Eddie grabs the paper and swaps it with the mug still clutched in his hand and he looks down to read it automatically.

On the front, in suspenseful italic, are the words "When Rodan flaps his wings…" and Buck coughs out a laugh, remembering last month's Godzilla night where they'd stayed up way too late watching movies while Eddie was covering for someone on B shift. He opens the card and doesn't start crying immediately, thank you, he lasts a few seconds with dry eyes. On the inside is a full spread drawing of the fiery pteranodon looming over the city of Los Angeles. On the bottom left a firefighter stands on a rooftop, blasting him in the face with a hose. Written in the sky is "... Buck saves the day!"

"Told you he'd cry," Eddie says, smug. Buck tries to glare at him but he's just a big blur through the tears.

"You're so mean to me," he croaks, reaching out blindly for moral support from Christopher, the superior Diaz. Chris shuffles over and wraps him in a hug which, oh boy, doesn't help the crying situation. "Th-thank you," he manages to get out, clinging to the kid a little and fully expecting him to pull away all huffy and teenager-like.

Chris just rests his head against Buck's. "You've been my dad, like, forever," he says quietly, and, really, it's too early in the day to be put through a trash compactor like this. "I probably should have made more cards to make up for the other years."

Buck makes a sound like "gk!" and feels Eddie's hand on his side. "Well, we don't want him to actually keel over. That would be an embarrassing ambulance ride."

Buck laughs, and it sounds wet and gross, and then kisses the side of Chris's head, which probably feels wet and gross. "I love you, so much."

"I know," Chris says, grinning. "I love you too, Buck. Eat your waffle. I put sprinkles on it!"

Buck laughs again, and pulls Chris up onto the bed with them to share. He's big, growing up so quick, and two grown men and a teenager are a pretty cramped fit on a queen mattress, but none of the three members of this family that Buck somehow, miraculously belongs to minds the proximity.

"Happy father's day, Buck," Eddie says, eyes heart twistingly soft as he kisses Buck's cheek. "Glad you're here with me. With us."

Buck makes a face as his eyes start stinging again, and covers Chris's eyes so he can lean forward and kiss Eddie on the mouth, quick. "No place I'd rather be."

[scammydoesstuff]

heya, I saw your post and I'm really sorry you had a disappointing experience with Neil; I get that BG3 and Astarion shot him to fame but there's still a lot of fans around for his older roles actively posting fics and art (karl, nikolai ginoviev, kamsi etc), so it's not a dead fandom by any means. Village isn't an 'old' game either (it's only 3 years old??) and anyone who says so is wrong imo. I hope your week gets better~

Thank you for the kind words.

I've been mostly spending the last week recovering from being sick and drawing to get out the negative feelings while also trying to rationalize a lot of that interaction.

Honestly, I didn't want to make that post super long, so I didn't go in-depth with all of it for the sake of brevity (because I tend to over explain and get to be very long winded - as you're about to see). I do want to insist that I don't necessarily blame Neil for it being negative. I'm sure it was mostly on me and I'm also sure I was overreacting. Drawing that was just my way of getting out some of those negative feelings instead of spiraling.

So, in regards to the convention: we wound up waiting basically 2 days to even meet Neil. Not...because we wanted to, mind. His line was crazy long every day and it wasn't uncommon to see people sitting down in his line, usually waiting for him to come back from a panel or a photo op. All the lines were moving slow all weekend, though. Not just his. That was one of my biggest issues with the convention as a whole and a critique genuinely unique to this one since the last Fan Expo I went to wasn't nearly that bad.

Our weekend was unfortunately pretty booked as well, so we couldn't wait all day and, after being in his line for nearly 3 hours that morning and barely moving, we had to leave for a lunch reservation with some friends who could only be there for one day after he left for a panel, cutting the line off. They did give out little numbers to anyone who'd been waiting up until that point to hop back into line later that day, however, if we had somewhere to be.

Due to short staffing at the restaurant, lunch also ran long and we didn't end up getting back until about an hour before the convention hall was set to close. We ran to Neil's line where they were cutting it off and, I'm super ashamed to admit, I let my boyfriend lie our way back into line (he told them we were leaving that night instead of staying the full 3 days we'd paid for, which coerced them to let us enter the line anyway) and spent the rest of the wait feeling guilty and really tempted to leave despite knowing on some level that this would likely be our last chance for the weekend. That's still on me. I could've said no and just left and not been a total piece of shit, but I didn't. Granted, other people got in line after us, so they weren't being that strict about it anyway, but I digress.

Regardless, we were already pushing it and I know that and I regret it. When we get to the front, I already wanted to keep things brief; get an autograph if I could, but mostly show him the Heisenberg plushie I'd made not long after the game came out.

(this is the plushie, btw. He took months to complete because he's entirely hand sewn - with the face being hand-embroidered - and was a major comfort project because of a lot of things going on in my personal life at the time that were causing me major stress. I've been hoping Neil would come to a con close enough for us to travel to at least so I could show him and this weekend was finally the opportunity I was waiting on).

So, we get to the front of the line and I see that he doesn't have any Village prints. Frankly, outside of Astarion, he doesn't have any other character prints except for one, which was a general Resident Evil group kinda thing with all the Resident Evil characters he'd done. There might've been one other, but I don't think it was for a character? It might've just been a headshot, but I could be wrong. I just know it wasn't Heisenberg-related, so I do not remember it clearly.

I was disappointed, but I decided to get the Resident Evil print anyway. I was initially going to have him sign a trench coat I'd made while working on the plushie. It was kinda practice to learn how to make the coat for that project and now it's just...my Heisenberg coat that I wear in winter. It's very warm. But I never ended up showing it to him after we finally get in front of him because the guilt was just too much.

So we start off and I was trying to be jokey and playful as I said 'I'm kinda disappointed you didn't have any Heisenberg prints' while showing him the plushie, but I can definitely see how, regardless of the tone I was trying to use, didn't come across right. So maybe *I* came off as rude instead despite trying to just...start a conversation about how I really liked Heisenberg? Totally possible. I'm not denying that.

And that's when Neil said that they don't bring prints along for Heisenberg anymore. That Village is an older game, so they don't get a lot of requests for it anyway and thus they save space when traveling. More disappointing. I started feeling worse because I could tell he was tired. It was the longest day for the exhibition hall to be open and he was still going even after everyone else was closing. He did arrive an hour after the hall opened, but it was still a long day, I know. I felt guilty and shitty, but, once he was done signing, I could properly show off the plushie - including the little cigars I'd made that he can hold cuz he has magnets in his hands. Maybe that would make him smile and lift his mood, y'know? So I was excited for his reaction and...

Nothing. Maybe a little laugh in that 'oh, that's cute' kinda way. He kinda did the voice when he saw it, but not really. I just...felt myself sink. I felt so embarrassed to have been so excited for this. My boyfriend asked if he could get a picture of Neil holding it and he did, but I was just...done. I wanted to leave because I realized that this was a mistake. It was late, he was tired, and this character doesn't mean much anymore because it's an older game that's been well overshadowed by Baldur's Gate III.

We wrapped up and left and that was it. I couldn't bring myself to say anything about how much Heisenberg meant to me as a character. I couldn't make myself show off the things about the plushie I was so proud of. I just wanted to leave because I felt like such a leech and that I shouldn't have done this.

I'm not dismissing the way I handled all of this. Looking back, I blame myself for my own bad time and I definitely blame myself for that interaction being as bad as it was. Neil was tired and, to a degree, he's right; it's not the new game that everyone's obsessed with right now. I shouldn't take it personally.

But it's easy to say that. It's so much harder to actually follow through with it. I couldn't help but feel upset because everyone else in line who'd seen the plushie would get excited to see it. Even the event manager who was hanging around at the end of the day told me I should sell them. Hell, back in April of this year, I even got to meet Maggie Robertson, who happened to be going to Fan Expo Cleveland (I live in Ohio, so less travel for that one). I thought it'd make her laugh (cuz, y'know, the size difference is accurate, right?) and, despite acting offended that I'd even bring him before her at all, she was still excited to talk about it and seemed to enjoy engaging with it. She was delightful and clearly still loves her character and that game, which made the contrast of meeting Neil so much more striking and...kinda hurtful...

So yeah...Sorry. That's a whole lotta words for 'I'm surely the reason it was so bad', but ye...Kinda got me out of an art funk, I guess. So that's something...maybe...

[ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing]

Emergency Commission Ops

Hello All!

So I might have slightly overextended myself financially and now have emergency dental work that needs to done and not quite enough room on my Card Credit Card to pay for it.

I'll spare you the gory details but let's just say my mouth isn't very happy right now and I may or may not need to come up with some money a little faster than I can possibly make from my day job.

So I'm offering commissioned fics for anyone who is interested! All you have to do is send me a message and then I've set up a ko-fi for payment.

ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/musicsoul1982

The pricing will be $10 per 1,000 words, with the caveat of if I go slightly over, that's my problem and not your problem because I tend to be long-winded.

Prefered Pairings: Obi-Wan/Pretty Much Anyone If you aren't sure please feel free to send me a message so that I can ensure I can accommodate you.

DNW: Excessive gore, especially sexual violence; body horror; cannibalism; scat; emotional/physical abuse used in a positive light; certain hardcore kinks (if you have a question feel free to ask)

Thank you for your time!

-Marie

[wordssricochet]

💬 — i made this because someone requested for a part two🫶🏻. i wasn't really planning to make one because i wanted it to be a one shot. but i felt so happy when someone liked my work sm that they wanted a part two:)) plus, SORRY IF THIS IS SHIT. english is not my first language:(( this is also my first time making fluff :] LIKE EVER. idk if OP wanted a fluff or angst.. but i wanted to try something new so <33

⚠ — none !! (hopefully)

📝 — ♡ (fluff)

#⃣ — 544 words (shortest fic yet)

🎵 — Try Again by Jaehyun 🫶🏻🫶🏻

_________________________________________________

Try Again | C. D |

by wordssricochet™

_________________________________________________

In which, you meet Cedric for the first time again.

_________________________________________________

1994, Hogwarts | Yours |

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Days passed after the man talked to both your friends. He introduced himself to you, Cedric Diggory is his name. It sounds like a character from the books, his name sounds like a prince's.

"Y/N, Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you. " You extend your hand in front of him. He shook it while grinning ear to ear.

"My pleasure, " He kisses your hand, which you find kind of weird. 'Cause who the bloody hell is this man?

_________________________________________________

You found out that Cedric was dating a pretty girl, Cho Chang. He broke things off with her, though, you don't know why. If you were a boy, Cho Chang would be the love of your life.

Weeks passed, you and Cedric grew close to each other. He would always sit next to you, he wouldn't get too close though, and you like it that way.

You became very close friends.

"Y/N! " He calls,

"Yes, Cedric? Is something wrong? "

"Mhm, nothing, " He gives a warm smile. "Where are you headed to? "

"Library, would you like to join me? "

"Absolutely."

_________________________________________________

It wasn't a surprise for your friends for you and Cedric to date. Although, you did.

Who could've seen it coming? A school prince, dating an average girl? You were beyond surprised. And happy.

What shocks you more is that Cedric knows all your favorites. Even the ones that you don't tell Adriana and Casey.

"I bought you flowers, love, " He hands you a bouquet of flowers; Lily of the valley.

You accepted with gratitude. "How did you know? Or is it simply just your guess? "

"I know you, Y/N, more than I know myself. "

"Well.. I want to know things about you, too! What's your favorite flower? "

"You."

________________________________________________

Cedric invited you on a date, he asked if you could wait for him in the common room.

You waited for exactly 2 minutes before he showed up with chocolates and flowers.

"You're so corny, you know? " You let out a chuckle as you take the gifts he handed you.

"Anything for my girl. Now, let's go? "

You grabbed his hand and walked side to side, both of you laughing on the way to where your date is set.

"Ced, where are we going? " You ask with a smile.

"Just you wait. "

He takes you to a place with moss as a wall. He pushes aside the bushes and reveals a little picnic. The picnic blanket is surrounded with flowers. There was a tiny basket full of your favorite sweets.

You almost cried because of how sweet your lover is. You remember telling him about your dream date, and how it was a picnic date. You were a simple person with simple needs.

Hours passed. And now it's just the both of you, laying on the blanket, stargazing.

"I really.. appreciate you, Cedric. " You start. You were about to say something again but Cedric suddenly hands you a letter

You open it and it was a handwritten letter, with a flower inside.

You were tearing up already, and you haven't even finished the later yet.

Cedric wiped your flowing tears with his soft hands.

"Love, no matter what you look like, or how you act. I will always come back to you. Thank you for being mine once again. "

_________________________________________________

💬 — this is so bad, ik😥. sorryy. i literally love cedric sm.. like no, amos, that's MY boy🫶🏻 anyway, hope you liked it:))

Sincerely, March.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

More to the Story - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: post-tfatws, fluffy bucky barnes, strangers to lovers, grumpyxsunshine

word count: 11.1 k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1334925555-more-to-the-story-priya

Masterlist

It was only nine in the morning and Bucky Barnes was already losing his mind.

His phone woke him up, ringing obnoxiously loud enough to wake even the neighbors. Bucky had heard air raid sirens that weren't that aggressive. After a lot of grumbling from the super soldier and supportive yowling from Alpine, he'd figured out how to turn the volume down. Except now the vibrations had started, rattling against the glass coffee table Bucky had just put together last week and interrupting the little bit of peace he enjoyed every morning after he woke. There were only a hundred pages left in The Two Towers, the second installment of a series by Tolkien he was still waiting to be able to read, and Bucky intended on finishing before noon.

He called Sam in confusion, reluctant but eager to eliminate the source of his irritation. Why the hell did he even need a phone, especially one made almost entirely of very breakable and vibranium arm susceptible glass, was just one of the questions Bucky asked himself as Sam walked into the apartment. Or who Bucky thought was Sam.

"I'm here to save the day, gramps!" Peter Parker exclaimed as he entered, a broad smile on his expressive face. He was dressed for class, a black backpack on his shoulders, with jeans and a t-shirt that matched.  

Pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head, Peter held out his hand, ignoring Bucky's confused state. 

"What are you doing here?" Bucky groaned as he passed Peter the object of his annoyance. 

"Well, Cap texted me, said he was busy and that you needed help," Peter replied, tapping at the screen. "Can't say I'm not disappointed it isn't, I don't know, aliens or terrorists, but setting a phone to "do not disturb" is pretty cool too, I guess." 

Bucky scoffed and suppressed a smirk, the kid's eagerness never failing to remind him of Steve. A low whistle from Peter made Bucky snap out of his thoughts and furrow his brow. 

"What? Why did you do that?" Bucky asked, reaching to swipe the phone and failing at being faster than someone for once. 

Peter's eyes went wide and he couldn't hide his amusement, the corners of his under eyes crinkling. Holding out the phone towards Bucky, the young man scrolled through row after row of unread messages in Bucky's inbox.

"Dude, you have, like, a million emails! Have you ever checked this thing?!" 

"Give me that," Bucky growled, this time succeeding in snatching the phone from his grasp. "And don't call me dude." 

Peter snickered and ran a hand through his dark curls, walking back from the living room to the door. 

"Well, Mr. Barnes, it's been fun but I gotta run to class. Hopefully, that'll help and seriously, check the emails. Maybe you'll find something cool!" 

Bucky grunted, scrolling through the app Peter had pulled up as the door clicked closed. He would have to remember to tell the kid thank you whenever he wasn't so goddamn irritated. Messages filled the screen, all promotions and requests for photo ops and interviews. It was one mindless subject line after another until one caught his attention. 

"Request to Interview: Bucky Barnes" 

It struck him as strange, someone using his nickname in one of these requests rather than his official name, James. He deemed that his excuse for clicking on the message, an email based out of the New York Times. 

He scanned through the text, the tone of the message professional yet somehow lighthearted, asking him if he would consent to an interview. It would be “informal”, the request stated a quiet chat over a nice lunch.  Bucky grunted once more but this time in amusement as the sender quipped that the Times would even foot the bill for the food.  There was an electronic signature at the bottom of the mail, Priya Abalan, a picture that was too small to see on his phone screen and of course, he couldn’t remember how to do the finger thing to enlarge the image.

He held the phone closer to his face, trying to make out the woman’s appearance. He heard that name before but he never got a face to match it. From what he could see, she had dark long hair that was slightly curled and tanned skin - that’s it. 

For a second he thought about just deleting the email but then he heard Sam in the back of his head, saying he should get his head out of his ass and socialize some more. Maybe he was right for once, and well, from what Bucky heard about Priya, she used to do professional interviews with lots of famous people, mostly politicians, so it couldn’t be that bad.

Bucky stared at his phone for a minute longer before he groaned and hit reply. “Goddammit, Sam,” he said under his breath.

Ms. Abalan, he started, moving as fast as his big finger would allow him on such a small keyboard. 

“I could mail a letter faster,” he grumbled but continued to type. 

While I am honoured, your request to interview me appears to be misplaced. I’m doubtful that the people of New York want to read stories from the mouth of a mean war-torn old man. You’re better suited requesting the time of Captain America.

He signed his name and fumbled with the send button for a beat too long. The incompetence a blow to his ego. 

“You’ve murdered aliens Bucky,” he mumbled to himself, “aliens!” 

He tossed the phone to the coffee table and rubbed the frustration off his face with his hands. Completely defeated, until he heard the soft chime of a new email in his already crammed inbox.

That sound was going to get annoying fast, he thought to himself as he let out a short huff, reaching for the small box that was making noise. It was something he was still getting used to in this new world of freedom, that people could just contact him any time they wanted. The old him probably would have loved it, but this him after everything, liked the quiet during the day. 

Still ignoring the long list of red dots in his email, Bucky clicked on the top notification, revealing a reply from that reporter already. 

Maybe she had realized she'd emailed him by mistake. 

Thank you for getting back to me, Mr. Barnes! I understand the hesitation with everything that's happened in recent years, but believe me when I tell you this is a story the city of New York would love. This is a story the city needs to hear and I truly believe they should hear it from you yourself before other news outlets run with rumours. Let me do you and your life some justice, you deserve that.

Bucky’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he read the message. He gaped at the screen and then shook his head, the comfortable frown settling across his forehead once more.

He typed then deleted, typed then deleted again, staring at his blank response in consternation.

“Well shit,” he said aloud as he typed once more and then tapped send.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he slumped back into his couch. He was already regretting agreeing to the interview but he’d be damned if he knew how to unsend an email.

He received a response back from Priya, almost immediately, asking him if he would be able to meet her in an hour at the establishment of his choice. She expressed that she wanted him to feel comfortable and have an enjoyable lunch rather than be thrust somewhere he might not like. 

Bucky responded back affirmatively and gave her the direction to Izzy's so they could meet there. 

As soon as he sent his message, he got up from his couch and padded across the living room to the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror,  he debated whether he should change into something a little dressier for lunch and made sure his hair wasn't doing the weird thing it did in the morning anymore where it flipped up in different directions.

He would never admit it to Sam but going out like this, out of his comfort zone, in a world he didn’t fit into, was nerve wracking for him. He didn’t really like it but he had to do it. He couldn’t live on like this forever, though his little apartment and his books were enough for him. 

After doing his hair and changing into some new jeans and a dark dress shirt - Peter bought this for him, saying it would look “lit” on him (whatever he meant by that), he grabbed his bike keys and he felt something furry touching his leg. 

He looked down to meet the gaze of his little white cat, Alpine. 

“Hey girl, I’ll be back later okay?” He kneeled down and patted her with a soft smile on his lips. This cat was the best thing that happened to him after all the fights he’s been through. Besides Steve and Sam, Alpine was his best friend.

He locked the door behind him and made his way to the elevator, inhaling as deeply as he could before pressing the button. 

He could do this. 

The parking garage below his complex was pretty dead this time of day except for Lottie, the kind security guard that manned the front gate. Bucky pulled his bike up slowly to her gate. 

“Oh look at you,” Lottie leaned out the door, “all handsome. Where do you think you're going looking like that?” 

Bucky offered her a smile, she had that effect on him. “I have an interview,” he squeezed his legs tightly to the low rumble of his bike. Grounding himself to the feeling and giving himself something to hold onto while he battled his nerves. 

“You’re gonna do great,” she encouraged. “Don’t forget to show her some of that Barnes charm!” Lottie lifted the gate for him. 

“You’re the only woman in my life that gets that Lottie, you know that.” He pulled the bike from the garage into the warm sunlight and turned onto the busy New York street without hesitation.

The mixture between the sunlight and cool breeze that whipped past him as he rode seemed to calm the explosion of butterflies that threatened to take over his system. He'd done small interviews before but they were always focused on the fight or Steve and the rest of the team. This was the first one where he was asked about himself, and that was the scariest part. 

Although he wasn't exactly sure what was going to be asked of him, thoughts of the Winter Soldier flashed in his mind. That was a point in his life he was not willing to relive, especially not to some reporter. Hell, he hadn't even spoken to his therapist about that fully. 

Bucky did his best to switch his focus, mostly on the road but ideas of the reporter herself floated through. Her long dark hair and caramel skin, and what had looked like a bright, infectious smile. The corners of his mouth upturned at the thought of the small photo he'd seen of her. 

"You got this, old man," he whispered to himself as his bike hummed to a slow stop in an alleyway beside the restaurant.

📰📰📰

Her heeled boots clicked along the sidewalk as she slipped away from the Uber she took over to Izzy's. Her recorder sat neatly in her bag, just in case Bucky was comfortable enough to let her use it. But if not, her small notebook would be more than enough for her profile. The idea wasn't to scare him off in any way, she just wanted to hear his true story and let the world see him for him, not whatever the government chose to put out there.

She was ecstatic this morning when she received the notification of his message back after a few days had gone by. She had worried that she might have been too eager in her initial message, or not enough to show she was serious about her request. 

Priya pulled open the entrance to Izzy's and she quickly scanned the floor meeting Sergeant Bucky Barnes' bright but nervous blue eyes looking back at her sitting at the table by the window farther back. The restaurant wasn't too full but the table he chose was private enough that if it were to fill up they'd still be able to talk at a normal volume. 

As she made her way to him, she saw him stand, stopping the anxious fidgeting with his metal fingers in the process and couldn't help but smile. 

"Hi Sergeant Barnes, it is so wonderful to finally meet you," she voiced happily, extending her hand between them.

He responded with a quiet “hi”, shaking her hand rather quickly before he pulled her chair back to let her sit down. She was startled by his gesture, saying a quick thank you and sat down. He nodded in response and took his seat on the opposite side of her. His brows were furrowed as her eyes met his. She didn’t know if he was just nervous or if he didn’t like her - maybe it was both. 

However, she tried not to let his behavior demolish her confidence and the plan she had for this interview.

"You can call me Bucky," he said, well he blurted.

"I'm sorry?" Priya fished her notebook from her bag, instantly knowing from his tense, pinned back posture that pen and paper would be the best approach. 

She watched him carefully, setting the things down on the table beside her glass, which had already been filled with water much to her surprise. Sergeant Barnes, a true gentleman after all, she thought. She knew her contacts wouldn't steer her wrong. This interview was exactly what she had been waiting for. Refreshing honesty from a soldier's perspective. 

"You called me Bucky in the email, you can... here too. I prefer it, I'm not that man anymore. The Sergeant." He swallowed thickly, his blue eyes clocking his nine and three as more people entered the restaurant.

It was obvious now that she’d noticed, the way his eyes would rapidly scan the room before returning to her and she felt a twinge of sorrow for him having led a life that had required him to be so vigilant that it was now an ingrained part of him.

Realising the silence might have been a little too long she nodded and widened her smile.

“Bucky it is,” she agreed.  “Thank you again for meeting me, and at such short notice.”

Bucky made a grunt of acknowledgement and then seemed to check himself.  He cleared his throat a little and the line between his brows deepened slightly before he spoke.

“You’re welcome.”

Priya looked around at the bar, a short walk from the subway station and in a part of Brooklyn that she never really had a chance to visit. The walls were a dark green, soft black accents and dim lighting that made her feel comforted. She wondered as she looked at the anxious hero in front of her if he received any small relief from the hole in the wall bar. 

"At the risk of sounding like a bad pickup line," Priya said with a tinkling laugh. "do you come here often?"

Bucky chuckled back with a nervous smile and she beamed hoping she'd get to see more of that throughout their conversation. 

"Quite a bit actually," he started, "I come to lunch with a um, an old friend here every week. Or used to, maybe we will again some day." 

He pressed his lips into a tight line as his eyes fell back to the table and Priya felt a small pang in her chest. 

"Did something happen between you two? And this is not for the profile or anything, but I'd love to hear more about your friend if you feel comfortable and it helps to talk about it..." 

"There's a negative side to every story Ms. Abalan," Bucky said, his hand flexing against the table like a nervous tell. "My time spent here with Yori was spoiled by the crimes of the Winter..." he inhaled through his teeth and his jaw ticked. 

"The Winter Soldier?" She asked and Bucky gave her a tight nod in response. "Listen, this interview is about you. I didn't ask for one with the man you were, I want a new perspective on who you are as a man now. The journey you took to get here. And please, call me Priya."

Bucky watched her for a moment longer, Priya just wishing she knew what was going on behind the icy glare. "Yori was a friend when I was acclimating to New York. The city you know, not the city I grew up in. The sounds," he inhaled again, puffing his chest and stretching out the muscles, "the lights and the crowds... the technology. It was too much. But Yori, he taught me how to navigate it."

"Do you mind?" She pointed to the notebook. 

"It's what we're here for isn't it?" He offered her a tight smile.

She scribbled down words, thoughts, and he waited for her to finish but before she could question him again the waitress arrived at their booth to ask for their order.

“I haven’t even looked at the menu yet,” Priya chuckled, reaching for the laminated card, but then paused and looked up at Bucky, “unless you could recommend something?  You’ve got to have a favourite, right?”

She almost laughed out loud at the expression on his face, he almost looked baffled.  Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in thought he hummed a little.

“The, ummm, the salmon and avocado temaki are good.  Goes well with a beer.”

“Then let's go with that,” Priya smiled at the waitress before turning back to Bucky.  “I trust you.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide at her statement, his cheeks flushed and he sighed almost like some relief washed over him at her words. His eyes drifted back to the table. Priya wondered when the last time someone expressed any kind of trust in him, especially a stranger. 

He flagged down the waitress and she watched him as he ordered for them. The waitress seemed to know his usual order, down to the type of beer he liked to drink. She could tell that he was nervous. He kept flexing his hands, fiddling with his fingers. "Bucky..." She wanted to redirect him, make him more comfortable. "What do you do for fun?"

"Well," Bucky drawled as his eyebrows furrowed, the perplexed expression making Priya smile softly. "I like...to read?"

This time Priya couldn't contain her giggle and the grin she got in return from Bucky caused a surprising warmth to rise in her cheeks. 

"Why did you phrase it like it was a question?" Priya asked with a tilt of her head, black waves falling over her shoulder. 

"Because, I'm not sure if that's what normal people even do anymore," Bucky said with more enthusiasm than she expected, gesturing out the window. "All this technology and convenience, people don't slow down anymore. Don't take the time to just..." 

"Read? Something calming and quiet, is that why it appeals to you?" 

His blue eyes met her umber ones again and she felt that pull again. This wasn't planned. She was a professional and didn't get caught off guard easily. But here was James Barnes, making her blush in the middle of an interview with just a look. 

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice raspy as he picked up his glass of water. "It gives me somewhere to escape to. Helps me think of times where everything was simpler." 

Priya watched the flexing of his jaw as he took a few gulps from the glass and set it down. 

"But I don't think your readers want to hear all about a boring old man and his books," Bucky laughed softly. 

"Well, I've never cared what the readers wanted to hear," Priya replies sweetly, sipping from her own glass. "Only what they need to hear. And I feel like all of New York needs to hear more about you."

"That's encouraging," Bucky said, "do you...read?" He asked, his tone a little more lenient as he spoke. 

Priya had the urge to chase the sound of that laughter, she liked the way it made his eyes soften and shoulders relax. "I'm a journalist, it's kind of my job. What's your favorite book?" She asked, straying a little further from her preplanned topics but curious about the man before her. 

She had come into this interview with the expectations of meeting a hardened, battle-worn soldier but she was met by a book loving, sushi eating old man who looked at her like she was glowing. It made her feel warm, and seen for the first time in a while. Throwing elbows in the breakroom with a bunch of ancient white men who believed they were god's gift to earth had been leaving her feeling anxious and angry.

He dipped his head and Priya would even go so far as to say he looked bashful when he replied.

“There’s so many, I couldn’t pick just one.  But at the moment I’m reading The Two Towers.  It’s part of a series called…”

“The Lord of the Rings,” Priya finished with a smile.  “It’s a good one.  Have you seen the movies?”

She gasped slightly as Bucky raised himself out of his seat a little, his eyes going wide with surprise.

“They made them into movies?!” He exclaimed, and it was the most animated he’d been so far.

Priya let out a laugh, tilting her head back. "They're really good. About an entire day's worth of Frodo and the gang." Somehow his eyes went even wider, a child like quality washed over him that she could tell lived below his stony exterior. She didn't blame him for hiding it away, she only wished he would get more moments to show it. 

"Are they as good as the books?" He asked with a raised brow. The corners of his mouth curled upwards into a grin as she smiled back at him. 

"Just about." 

Bucky leaned back into his chair, shaking his head gently. The excitement coming to a head. "The world has changed so much..." He breathed in a gentle laugh.

Priya watched with an inquisitive quirk of her brow as Bucky tilted in his seat and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small notebook. Cover faded and pages worn, she could tell it was well used, flicked through and carried around.

“Sorry, I just—uh…” Bucky waved the book, “gotta write this down.” 

She nodded in understanding as he opened it to a page half way through the book, a list already started, and he glanced up looking a little lost. 

“You need a pen?”

“Please,” he smiled, reaching out when she held hers up for him to take. Their fingertips grazed as it was passed between them and Priya gasped softly at the touch. But then Bucky was writing and the moment had passed, instead she waited patiently as he scrawled onto the page.

Lord of the Rings - MOVIES. 

She chuckled quietly as he underlined it twice.

"How long have you had that thing?" She asked.

There was other writing in it, mostly lists. Some of it was consistent with Bucky’s handwriting and some of it wasn’t. Blockier, less slanted to the right. Definitely not his. 

She spotted more names: books, movies, public figures, and TV shows. Bucky’s face fell a little, sadness eclipsing it as it crept into his eyes. Suddenly, Priya felt like she shouldn’t have asked that question. She shook her head.

“We don’t—“

“No, it’s… it belonged to an old friend.” Bucky cleared his throat. “Kind of gave me a blueprint for coming back to the 21st century.”

He flipped it closed and tucked it back into his jacket, handing her the pen back with his left hand.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” When she reached for it, the tips of their fingers brushed together. 

Sparks. Butterflies. They were swarming her belly, almost tormenting it. She took a deep breath. Professional, Priya. Professional. Bucky’s cheeks reddened before he quickly withdrew his hand and reached for his water, taking a long drink. 

Priya did the same and Bucky set his glass down.

“What else did you want to ask me?”

"Well... I want New York to know more about the real you, Bucky," She answered. "We know about the crime fighter, we should know about the man underneath all of that." 

Priya clicked the back of her pen a couple of times as she looked down at the few notes that she'd made for herself. Why can't I think straight? I had all of this thought out before I sat down. 

At that moment, the waitress stepped back up to the table with their order of food and sat it between them before giving Bucky his beer. "It's on the house today, Bucky. Don't even try to leave anything for it. You overpaid for your lunch yesterday."

Bucky tried to protest as Priya's eyes grew wide, looking up at the waitress. 

"Does he do that often?" she asked the server, the girl's dark bob moving quickly as she nodded. 

"Oh all the time," she continued, her eyes lighting up. "Our girls get cheated out of a lot of tips and Bucky never fails to make up for it. You picked a good one for a date, girl." 

Before Priya could stammer out that this was not in fact a date, the waitress was making her way back to the bar. She looked embarrassed at Bucky, who was busy fixing his chopsticks to pick up the first roll of his lunch. 

"Don't worry about it, she likes to tease me all the time." Bucky scoffed, waving his other hand slightly and he dug into his food. "Says I don't get out enough so she just assumed-"

"That's okay," Priya murmured softly, starting into her own food with butterflies in her stomach. "I don't mind." 

"Don't mind what?" Bucky grinned and Priya saw the man in the photos at the museum for a brief moment. "The teasing or thinking this is a date?"

She flushed, feeling it high in her cheeks as she glanced down at her food. 

“Either. Both.“ Priya looked back up and met Bucky’s widened but pleased eyes. “I figure she’s right anyways- I did pick a good one.”

Bucky stared at her, his eyes full of something that looked like gratitude, before he shifted his gaze down to his metal hand, flexing and clenching on the table. He quickly relaxed it when she looked, flattening it on the table and drumming his fingers. 

“So, what uh- what else d’you wanna know?” Bucky asked, and Priya blinked a few times before looking at her notes again.

She was getting distracted by his looks and his charm, and that wouldn't do. Keep it together Priya, he's handsome, like real old time handsome. Open the doors for you and bring you flowers handsome, but you gotta focus on the interview first!

She looked over her notes, searching for what she should ask next, before finally settling on, "I'm sure you've faced a lot of changes, what's your favorite, well, anything, that you've encountered in the 21st Century?"

When she looked up, Bucky was looking at her, curious but contemplative.

"Honestly one of the first things that comes to mind is food which probably sounds ridiculous," he said with a shy laugh. 

"Hey I love food, so I'm all for that answer." 

Priya gave him a reassuring smile, urging him to go on. 

"Well back when I was young I liked food too and my ma made this great cobbler anytime she could but that was a once in a while thing. Then in the war and before I um- well before I became me again, I mostly just ate whatever field ration was available just to survive, you know?" he took a swig of his beer and continued, "Now I can actually enjoy it."

"What kind of cobbler?" She asked him, genuinely wanting to know the answer. 

"Peach," he smiled, "but I'd eat cobbler with just about any fruit." 

"You like fruit?" She jotted down and slipped the pen between her teeth. 

"Have you ever eaten a meal out of a can? The field rations tend to be slimy, and taste worse than a bullet between your teeth." He described to her, "coming home, getting the freedom to eat whatever you wanted. Fruit, it's the opposite, juicy and sweet. Erases some of the memories of tin from my mind."

"You're nothing like they describe," she sighed, staring across at him she realized that underneath all that scary stuff that the news outlets had spewed was just a young man trying to figure it all out after having it all taken from him.

She watched as Bucky's muscles tensed under his dark dress shirt at her comment. Even her boss was very reluctant to let her come to this interview alone, but something deep within herself made her believe that this was a story worth telling. 

“Thanks…” Bucky mumbled, taking a long swig of his beer. 

Priya watched him carefully, a soft smile lifting its way onto her plump lips, “you really are a good man, Bucky, I mean it.”

Her heart leapt at the blush that crept across his face and he busied himself with the food, pushing the plate of sushi towards her so that she could make the first selection.

“So the sushi then, that was obviously new to you.  What did you think of it?” She asked, using her chopsticks to pick up one of the temaki.

“When Yori first suggested it I was dubious, you know?” Priya nodded and he continued, “but I liked it.  Maybe it’s the company too, first Yori, now you…”

It was Priya’s turn to blush at his words but he continued to speak.

“You just gotta watch out for that wasabi crap. I thought I was gonna die. You shouldn’t be able to feel food in your damn nostrils!” He shook his head in exasperation and Priya couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her throat.

His eyes flicked up to her, that charmed smile forming on his lips once again. Another wave of warmth coursed through her at the gesture. 

"Wasabi is like your Kryptonite then I suppose." She grinned, picking out one of the sashimi rolls, placing it between her lips feeling the weight of his gaze on her. 

Bucky cleared his throat, realizing that he was staring although she didn't quite mind it. Keep it professional Abalan. "Krypto-what?" 

She smiled, covering her mouth to swallow, "Superman?" 

He shook his head softly, "He's a comic book character. Strong, super speed, super hearing, among other things," Priya continued, "Kind of like you, but he can fly--" Her brows knit together, "You can't fly can you?" 

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head, "No, Cap flies. I prefer two feet on the ground." 

Priya nodded before continuing, "well, he's got one weakness, it's called Kryptonite. Some alien crystal thing... but he's also just trying to live as a normal human man, so I'm sure he's got more than just that." 

He considered her words carefully, "Are you comparing me to Superman?" He breathed a laugh, shoving another roll into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

"You two are similar..." She smiled, "I prefer the real thing though."

“You always such a sweet talker when you interview people?” 

He caught her eye and Priya glanced down, not sure how to handle the twinkle in his soft blue irises, or the way his lips curved into a smirk — teasing in every sense. 

Bucky was oozing the charm that the old stories told of, and nothing like the recent reports. She felt a small glimmer of pride over that, that he felt he could relax a little more than usual in her company, given the circumstances. 

“Gotta be sometimes,” Priya replied truthfully. She glanced at her open notebook, pen laid across the page untouched since their food arrived. “But I haven’t written a single thing down in the past ten minutes so I’m not sure if we can class this as an interview anymore.”

When Priya raised her eyes from her notebook, they found his blue ones staring at her. Her lip upcurved a little and she quickly grabbed one of the sushi rolls with her chopsticks.

Bucky watched her every move, before copying her and grabbing a sushi roll himself. 

"I could live with that." he mumbled with a shy smile, before placing the roll in his mouth with ease.

"You're rocking the chopsticks, Bucky." Priya commented on his movements.

"Oh you should have seen my first try, doll." he responded before a grumbling laughter escaped his throat.

Priya felt the butterflies in her stomach again and she couldn't stop herself from laughing with him. "Yeah, first times are always embarrassing." she chuckled.

"Oh, yes. Should have seen me trying to order a coffee at Starbucks the first time. I've seen high-tech stuff in Wakanda, but none of that was as complicated as Starbucks. After the fourth weird question, I literally ran out of the building and never entered a Starbucks again."

“So not a coffee guy then.”

“No, I am,” he laughed. “I just… latte, cappuccino, cold foam… what the hell is all that stuff? I just want a black coffee in one of those little paper cups with the shitty lids.”

“The ones that burn your hand because the paper’s too thin?”

He pointed at her, his eyes lighting up. 

“That’s a real New York cup of coffee. Gotta be tough to even carry the damn thing.” 

Priya chuckled and shook her head.

“Well, I like lattes usually, but after a really long night out, I could get on board with an old fashioned bodega cup of coffee. And one of those greasy breakfast sandwiches.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back and he let out a groan.

“They’re the best. I could live on those things.”

She chuckled. The more he opened up, the more she didn’t really care about the interview. She just wanted to get to know him. There was so much bullshit out there about him in the press. Assumptions, things that didn’t match up at all with the gorgeous blue-eyed man sitting in front of her. He was charming and funny, and the little nickname he dropped oh so casually made her heart skip a few beats. 

Priya fell silent and picked up another sushi roll. Bucky did the same and she took a deep breath as she chewed. 

“What’s been the hardest adjustment for you? Outside of running screaming out of a Starbucks and never coming back?”

“I didn’t scream,” Bucky retorted as she giggled. But the question made him suddenly contemplative, pain clouding his features. “But, if you want the honest answer, I’d have to say… that coming back to all of this felt like walking into a party that nobody wanted me to come to.”

Her brows scrunched.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… after everything I did… it’s hard to get people to—“ He cleared his throat. “Accept you. I felt like an alien. Everything I did, everything I said was all wrong. Everyone I knew was gone except for Sam," his eyes misted with tears that he blinked away in an instant. "I didn't think about how lonely it would be."

Priya frowned softly and without thinking, reached to rest one hand over his metal hand, ignoring the coolness she felt. "Bucky... I know whatever I say doesn't really help the matter. But I'm doing my best to change that if I can." 

She ran her thumb over the back of his hand, glad that he hadn't pulled away from her yet. "I've been to the museum and I know what you've been through... from the stories..." her words and her thoughts were getting tangled.

Priya sat up, shaking her head, starting to pull her hand away. “I’m sorry, I just mean-“ Bucky caught her hand in his, gentle but keeping her from withdrawing. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly but earnestly, blue eyes fixed on her dark ones. Priya felt her heart stutter a beat, and she nodded, realizing a beat too late that Bucky had released her hand. She pulled it back, grabbing her pen and spinning it between her fingers, nervous excitement bubbling within her.

"You know," Bucky started, then hesitated, poking at his food for a moment before he started again. 

"You know, I thought this would be horrible. But you're, uh, you're nice," His voice dropped to almost a whisper, so Priya had to lean forward to hear his next words, "You have a nice voice."

Priya felt the heat crawl up her neck and over her cheeks, "Really?"

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Bucky’s face softened and he blinked slowly. Smiling, he added “your accent reminds me of someone I knew once, a long time ago.”

Priya lost herself in his eyes. They glistened with such emotion as he remembered. She wondered if the person he was thinking of had been an old flame or a lost love. She took a breath, ready to speak, when he spoke again.

“Your voice is softer though. More soothing,” he refocused himself on the dwindling platter between them, “I could listen to you talk all day.”

Priya’s face flushed as she watched him casually place another roll into his mouth. His cheeky grin closed around the rice as he watched her. This 40’s boy had not lost one iota of his charm.

"Perhaps I should be asking you the questions."

“Perhaps…” she said in a softer tone as she looked at him through her lashes, catching him getting flustered at her flirty look. “But maybe not today…today shouldn’t be about me.” 

“Oh, so you’re assuming there’s gonna be a next time then?” Now Bucky was the one who got into his flirting skills, raising one eyebrow and pushing his tongue against his cheek as he leaned forward on the table.

“We’ll see,” she said confidently, her eyes not leaving his.

“Can’t wait,” he smiled as he leaned back again and got back to his sushi.

They ate in silence for a minute or two but it wasn’t awkward, which surprised her. Priya had always read about people “making eyes at each other” and now she finally knew what they meant by it. A whole conversation was held between them without a word being uttered until Bucky’s gaze turned mischievous, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

He leaned across the table and slid Priya’s notebook towards himself. Flipping to a new page he tapped the pen against the pad a couple of times and spoke, his mouth twitching into a charming smile.

“So, Ms Abalan, if you could describe your ideal date, what would it be?”

Priya watched the confidence wash over him in beautiful waves. The light of the bar glistened against the flecks of gray in his eyes, making it extremely hard to answer the question without saying, this. 

She sucked in a deep breath, leaning back into her chair as a smile formed across her lips. "Well, it would start out with dinner," Priya grinned when the pen started moving across her pad. 

"Hmm, okay go on," he grinned up at her. 

Priya laughed softly, "you're very eager Mr. Barnes," his tongue flicked over his bottom lip forcing her eyes to watch before flicking back up to his own. He rolled the pen silently asking her to keep going, "alright, alright..." she conceded, "after dinner we'd take a walk by the waterfront, the lights are beautiful at night." 

The pen stopped for a moment as he looked back up at her, "We?" 

It was her turn to grin at him. 

"Then--" She said ignoring his question, "enjoying one of those bodega coffees on the walk home."

Priya watched her pen dance across the page before Bucky finished up the last bullet point with a flourish of the word ‘coffee’. 

“Looks like a pretty good date to me,” he breathed, “could I maybe add one thing?”

“I thought this was my ideal date?” Priya teased, and Bucky scrunched his nose in playful rebuttal. 

“Humour me, sweetheart? We’re off topic as it is.” 

And she couldn’t resist the happy crinkles at the corner of his baby blues if she tried as she gestured with her hand for him to continue. 

“Make it dinner and a movie. You talk at dinner, you get to sit close in the movie theatre, or couch if you do that — what is it they call it… Netflix and chill?” 

Priya laughed as Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and her belly flipped. An all encompassing feeling of ‘this could be something good’ simmering through her limbs as they fell into a companionable silence.

"You know what Netflix and chill means, right?" she laughed while watching his brows knit in confusion while tilting his head a little.

"Yeah, watching a movie on the television. Through the internet. Isn't it?" he asked while quickly grabbing his own notebook to note down her explanation.

"Actually..." Priya started but struggled to hold back her laughter. "... it's more like ignoring the movie and having... you know... sex instead."

Bucky had started writing down every word Priya said, but before he could write the word "sex" his eyes raised and he looked at her.

His eyebrows slowly raised, his lips pulling apart.

"Oh. OH." he mumbled, his cheeks cherry red while he quickly closed his notebook and put it in the pocket of his jacket again.

"That would be a lot for a first date, huh?" he added, trying to hide his embarrassment as best as possible. 

"Yeah. But dinner plus watching a movie for real sounds like a pretty amazing date." Priya said, trying to change the topic and make him feel comfortable again. 

"Would you be up for that?" Bucky asked, his facial expression a mixture of excitement and fear. 

"Absolutely!" she answered almost immediately with a big grin on her face.

Bucky’s lips twitched in a smile, beaming back at her. “Wh-when would you like to go out? I mean, we didn’t really get to do much of an interview… I uh… could answer more questions for you.”

“I mean… it wasn’t dinner, but I’m not busy now,” Priya said, grinning widely as he stood up, walking behind her and pulling her chair out with her nod. Bucky made a wide gesture with his metal arm. 

“Shall we take a walk?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face as Priya tucked away her things, picking up her bag and sliding out of her chair. 

She could feel Bucky’s hand light on her lower back as he guided her out of the restaurant, saying goodbye to the waitress. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Bucky offered her his arm, and she smiled, turning to look up at him, his eyes scanning their surroundings.

The afternoon weather was perfect for a stroll through the local park.  Bucky led Priya along the winding paths as they talked and laughed.  She enjoyed getting to know more about him, and the more she shared about herself, the more comfortable he became, opening up to her like a blooming flower nurtured by her presence.

Bucky talked about what Brooklyn was like back when he was a teenager and, at Priya’s request, talked about his family, but she never once asked about the war.  She wanted to know all of the parts of him that existed now – some of which were remnants from his youth – not the parts he wished he could forget.  Never those darker parts.

When the shadows grew longer and the afternoon turned to a cool evening, Bucky walked Priya to a quaint little hole-in-the-wall café for a hot cup of coffee.  The kind that almost burned you through the cup, just as they had discussed.  Everything about him was alluring.  She knew she should have kept it professional but being with him was effortless, and so refreshingly good.

She hadn't realised they had stopped walking by the wrought iron gates that lead to the street.  Warmed by hot coffee and the outstanding company, Bucky stepped closer.  He looked down into her upturned eyes and asked…

“How about that movie, doll?”

Priya's tongue swiped across her bottom lip before she pulled it between her teeth, keeping her dark eyes locked with his gaze, "I - I honestly probably shouldn't. It's against my ethics training to date my sources," she paused. 

The way Bucky's eyes flickered to the ground away from her and the nod of his head caused a mischievous smirk to cross her lips as she kept him waiting. 

"I understand..." he all but mumbled, the disappointment coming through in his tone. 

Breathing out a laugh through her nose, she reached forward and softly placed her hand on his chest, bringing his eyes back to her face, "but for you, I'll make an exception," she teased, shooting him a sweet grin.

A smile exploded across his face and she got another glimpse of that almost child-like joy that she wished would stay for longer. It belonged there and Priya vowed that she would do everything she could to make sure it returned.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see?” He asked, pulling his phone from his pocket.

He tapped the screen a few times and stared daggers at it, as if it had done him some great insult.

“I can book us some tickets…apparently,” he grumbled.

“Do you actually have Netflix Bucky?” She asked, patting his chest gently.

Bucky glanced up from his phone, brows furrowed, before letting out an awkward breathy laugh, "I--uh.. I think so. Sam set it up for me, but I've never used it." 

She smiled, "I can show you how to use it," Priya offered, knowing that she was dangerously stepping over that ethical line, "I mean if you're up for it. Movie theaters are great too." 

He glanced up and down the street, the nervousness returning to him. "You want to come to my place?" He asked, the unsureness in his voice leaking through. 

"If you're up for it," She reminded him, not wanting to push him too far. 

"I'm up for it." He said a little more confidently, holding out his arm for her. 

Priya smiled, wrapping her hand gently around his bicep, "such a gentleman. I'm pretty sure the Lord of The Rings is on there, we can watch that if you're up for diving into three more hours with me."

Bucky shot her a playful look, "I've lasted this long darling."

“Well then, lead the way.” 

Bucky paused as they approached the street where Izzy’s was. 

“I uh— I forgot I rode my bike here, are you— we can walk back if you don’t want to—“

“I’ve been on a motorcycle before, Bucky. Plus, the quicker we get back the more movie time we have.” 

With the decision made, she followed Bucky onto his bike, trying not to think about how close they were as she clung to him, arms wrapped around his strong build as he zipped through the streets back to his building.

Before she knew it, they were rolling up to a security gate guard as they made their way through. 

Her kind eyes softened as they flitted from Priya to Bucky and back again before she shot the super-soldier a wink. 

“Not a word, Lottie.” Bucky chuckled as if he could read her mind. Priya raised her brow inquisitively and it seemed Lottie couldn’t help herself. 

“Looks like you put that charm to good use, Barnes.”

Bucky shook his head, riding off to his usual space before anything more could be said. 

“You are very charming, you know,” Priya told him once they were inside and waiting for the elevator. 

“You haven’t seen me first thing in the mornin’, Priya.“ Bucky countered, flashing her a lopsided grin as they entered the carriage and zoomed up to his floor.

Priya laughed as she got off of the elevator and waited for Bucky. “You haven’t seen me either. It’s a bit of a sight to behold.”

She followed him down the hall to his apartment and watched as he unlocked the door. As they stepped into the apartment, the sound of a trilling meow filled the room. “You have a cat?”

A petite white cat with the most vibrant blue eyes slinked its way towards Bucky, winding around his legs and purring loudly before sitting between its human and Priya.  The cat eyed her curiously.

Bucky scooped the cat up into his arms and approached Priya as if showing off a newborn baby.

“Priya, this is Alpine. Alpine, this is Priya.”  The cat chirped in Bucky’s embrace as if it knew its name. “She’s seen me through some tough nights,”  Bucky stroked Alpine and brought her closer. 

“Aww, she’s gorgeous!” Priya held her hand out gently for Alpine to sniff, trying not to force herself into the cat’s space.  “Are you a good girl? I bet you’re a very good girl for your dad, huh?”

Alpine reached up to boop Priya’s hand with her nose and purred. Only then did Priya move to pet her.

“She likes me!”  Priya beamed a huge smile and looked up at Bucky to find the strangest expression on his face as he watched the two ladies interact.

Narrowing her eyes at Bucky, she kept a soft smile on her face as she tilted her head to the side, "what's wrong?" she chuckled. 

Bucky shook his head, and moved his vibranium hand to scratch the special spot behind Alpines ears, "no, nothing, I just -" he paused, smiling down at his little girl, "I've never seen her like someone so quickly," he looked back at Priya, a small twinkle in his blue eyes, "she must know you're special..." he all but whispered. 

A blush crept up the sides of her neck as her hand slowly dropped from the cat, turning herself slowly to look farther into Bucky's apartment. The story of Bucky Barnes was writing itself in her head but for now, her reporter brain shut itself off and allowed her to be just herself. Just a girl with a swarm of butterflies in her chest every time she looked into those ocean blue eyes. 

"You have a really nice home here Bucky, the plants, the books, it's really... you," she turned back to him with a smile, "I like it."

Bucky shifted on his feet, that lopsided smile returning as he looked around, assessing the room. Everything had it's place. Books were lined up neatly on the shelves, small medallions and picture frames sat in between the stacks. His free hand came up to rub the back of his neck as his eyes met hers again, "Thank you. It's finally... starting to feel like a home now." 

Priya ignored the pang in her chest at the thought of it once not feeling like that for him before turning to head towards a line of frames hanging in between a pair of windows. 

Alpine wrestled herself out of his arms only to beat Priya to the windowsill earning a chuckle from her father. 

"That's her favorite spot," he grinned, taking a step sliding himself next to her, "She likes to yowl at the kids on the street." 

She let out a chuckle, "Like father like daughter I'm guessing?" Priya raised a brow at him. 

"They get loud sometimes," he grumbled, biting back the smile on his face before moving to the TV and picking up the remote. "Here, if you can work your magic and get that thing to work, more power to ya," he said all but shoving the remote into her hand, "You want something to drink? I have water… beer, tea if that suits you. I usually only drink it when I can't sleep." 

With a nod, she let him take her bag and smiled, "Tea would be great."

Bucky nodded, “make yourself at home, there are blankets in that basket if you wanna get comfy.” 

“Thanks, Bucky.” 

With a soft smile, Bucky turned on his heel and headed to the kitchen, leaving Priya to her own devices. 

She got Netflix up and running easily enough and then turned her attention to the frames on the wall, wandering over to inspect them more closely. 

Black and white photos filled the two of them. A much younger Bucky — although only by ten years or so in looks — stood side by side with a scrawny Steve Rogers in the first. The second, a family shot, weathered and torn but taped back together. Something in her chest lurched at the sight of Bucky as a young boy and she turned away, suddenly feeling like she was invading his privacy. 

“You can look, sweetheart.” Bucky was there, two cups of tea in his hands and a melancholy expression on his face, “I trust you.”

Priya turned and looked at him, her cheeks colored pink. “That’s who you were talking about earlier… the notebook. It was Steve’s.”

Bucky’s head hung just a little lower and he nodded, his solemn expression more than enough to tell her that perhaps now wasn’t the time to press him for more memories, he had already gifted her with enough for one day.

“Nothing gets past that journalist brain of yours, does it?”  His smile was weak but full of care.  It was obvious that he didn’t want to push her away.

“Bucky,” she stepped closer, taking his hand that lay limp at his side and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen.”

He nodded, meeting her compassionate gaze with acceptance.

“But in the meantime, I’m here for the child-like delight you’re going to experience when you see the movies they made of those Tolkien books you’re reading. Don’t think I didn’t see that bookmark near the end of The Two Towers. And mister! I’m here to tell you that we’re watching them all in order.”

“Them all?” Bucky perked up, that excited glint returning to his eyes.

“All three of them.”

“Tonight?”

“God no! We can save some for other dates.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Priya's heart swelled in her chest as the two of them smiled at each other for another moment. This soft, sweet man was not at all what she had been expecting. Rumours of the short, cut answers he had given to other reporters floated around the city like red leaves in the fall, and knowing what she did of others in her field, she didn't blame him at all. Her mind wondered what she herself had done differently to make him trust her, but that would be a conversation for another day too. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy the company of a perfectly good man who she really liked. 

She plopped herself down onto his black leather sofa, and patted the cushion next to her, "You ready?" She teased. 

A confident smile spread across Bucky's lips as he took a seat and draped his arm lazily along the back of the couch behind her shoulders, "as I'll ever be."

She beamed up at him before turning towards the TV and pressing play. The opening credits began and like a moth to a flame, his eyes were glued to the screen. Priya settled into the couch, her knee bumping his leg gently as she did. His gaze flicked to hers for only a moment as the smile grew on his face before they returned to the screen. 

As they got deeper into the movie, she glanced over at him. His lips moved gently with the monologues but his focus unbroken by her watching him. She couldn't help but smile to herself, seeing his favorite books come to life on a screen that she was sure he never thought he'd be able to see. 

Alpine had jumped down off the window and planted herself in Bucky's lap, curled up into the tiniest white fluff ball that Priya had ever seen. His eyes flicked down to the cat and then over to Priya. 

"You like it so far?" She asked, feeling his body lean towards hers. 

"There's how many more of these?" He asked, pausing as wraiths flickered over the screen. 

"Six if you include the Hobbit movies," she whispered, nudging him gently with a grin, feeling herself drawn to his warmth the closer he got to her. Priya sucked in a breath gently before scooting closer to him, his arm falling from the top of the couch and finally resting on her shoulders. 

His eyes went wide as he pulled her closer as if out of habit, "Six! We have a lot of dates to plan then sweetheart." 

Priya laughed, her nerves settling when he didn't push her away, "well… five now." She grinned. 

"Make it ten," he bantered with a smile.

“I’m sure we can find things to watch for an extra five dates,” Priya couldn’t hide her smirk as Bucky looked down at her resting against him.

“No doubt.”  He gave her shoulder a playful squeeze and turned his attention back to the movie.

The wraiths had cornered Frodo and the other Hobbits in the ruins at Weather Top. Bucky tensed as the music grew more ominous and they drew in for their attack. The screams of the wraiths made Alpine jittery in his lap, and she shifted, looking around for whatever heinous creature was lurking out of sight.

Instinctively, Priya reached to stroke her, soothing her with gentle long strokes down her back until her fingers brushed something without fur.  Bucky’s hand lay underneath her fingertips, stilled by the contact and heated, just like the rest of his body.  He lazily parted his fingers so hers would dip between his and he stroked there almost absently, cosseting Alpine with the motion.

On the screen, the Witch-King stabbed Frodo and Bucky jolted, causing Priya to gasp. She realised she had been holding her breath, captivated by the feel of his skin against hers, and by their closeness.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow as he turned his gaze down toward her, a glimmer of a playful smile dancing at his lips, "Are you okay?" He whispered. 

Her head nodded against his shoulder and she returned the smile, giving his hand a small squeeze, "never better," she whispered back. 

Nuzzling herself deeper against him, Priya did her best to turn her attention back to the screen, but the feeling of Bucky's thumb gracefully rubbing the side of her hand pulled her focus away from the movie once more. Every movement he made was careful and soft, purposeful and filled with intention. Through whatever he had happened in his life, some semblance of a man remained, tethered to the darkness that he so clearly thought followed him. 

It broke her heart to think about this good man stuck behind bars, watching the terrible things that went on around him. But the strength that radiated from this survivor was captivating in every way. It made Priya hold on to every moment with him. Every smile he'd flashed her had gotten brighter as their day had gone on, the confidence in not only his voice but his demeanour. A warmth spread throughout her body as she turned her dark eyes up to Bucky once more, catching him once again mouthing a few of the words as the film started to draw to a close.

Priya hadn't even realized the movie ended until he glanced back down at her, breaking the gaze she had studying his features. Every line, freckle and crinkle his eyes made when he smiled was not lost to her now. Nothing more perfect and nothing out of place. He squeezed her hand playfully drawing her attention back, "What'chya lookin' at darlin?" 

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she sat up gently, "You." She admitted softly, "I just..." Priya knew she was about to cross a line and the raise of his brow and gentle curve of his lips egged her on, "I'm just grateful you replied to that email," she pulled her toe back from the line. 

"Y'know, considering how tonight has turned out, I am as well." He smiled, everything in her core turning to fire. 

Alpine jumped off his lap, stretching her little body across the dark rug. Not once did their eyes leave each other hearing her yowl softly trotting her way into his kitchen. He untangled their still intertwined fingers and trailed his fingertips to her wrist. "Priya," he breathed gently, crystal blue eyes searched her own, "I'd really like to kiss you now..." he trailed off. 

She felt herself smile before nodding, "I'd really like that." 

That charming smile returned to his features as he lifted his hand, gently resting it against her jaw as he leaned in closer to her. Priya met him halfway, leaning into him with her hands planted firm against his chest. The hard muscle doing nothing to hide the racing beat of his heart hammering against his chest. Knowing he could hear hers trying to escape her chest. 

Bucky slotted his lips over hers, taking her top one first and leaning into her like she'd melt away if he didn't. Her fingers dug into the cotton of his shirt and she swore she heard a small moan fall from his lips as he pulled away from her sucking in a breath. "Was that okay?" He asked almost nervously. 

Priya nodded, twisting her fingers into his shirt even further, grasping onto anything she could, "more than."

He beamed, the blue in his eyes glistened as he dipped his head again, pressing his lips to hers once more.

Priya felt like she could melt in his arms right then and there. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, and she let out a small, happy sigh.

Bucky smiled against her lips, her sweet sighs making him deepen the kiss so tenderly she felt like she might sublime from solid form to vapour just from the subtle heat of it all.  He was truly a marvel, a paradox of hard edges and primal ruggedness offset with such gentleness and vulnerability that she thought she might never tire of his facets.

Bucky suckled her lower lip gently, pulling her body tighter against his chest so their hearts beat so close to one another.  His tongue sought hers out, but he didn’t push himself into her mouth – no – they met in the middle and danced there, exploring and teasing until, with a heavy sigh, Bucky pulled back.  He rested his forehead against hers, where a disbelieving laugh escaped them both together.

“That was…”  Priya’s words were lost in that exuberant giggle again. 

“I’ll say!”  Bucky grinned.

Their eyes locked as the tips of their noses brushed together softly, breathing in each other's scent and relishing in the moment that they had created for themselves. Here in Bucky's apartment, it felt like a safe space for him to be himself and he had allowed her to see this side of him. 

The black and white photos on the walls, with greenery draped about. The classic books that lined his shelves and the dark brooding furniture showed every bit of who Bucky Barnes really was underneath all the rumours and badness that surrounded his past. This wasn't who the government was telling him to be, or who Hydra tried to make him. This was him. This was Bucky. And it was clear to Priya that his story in life was just beginning, allowing her to be a small part of that. 

A loud ring sounded from Bucky's phone and brought the two of them back to the present. With a reluctant groan, and another soft, quick peck to her lips Bucky swivelled his hips to grab his phone off the coffee table, checking the messages with an annoyed frown. 

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how sorry I am for this, but it's Sam..." he grimaced, sliding his phone back away and returning his attention back to her, cupping her face in his hands. 

Priya hummed and leaned into his touch, turning slightly to place a light kiss on his metal palm, "It's okay, really... we have 9 more dates to plan anyway," she giggled, running her fingers gently on his forearm, "it's late anyway, I should probably go." 

With a disappointed sigh, Bucky stood from the couch and extended his hands, helping her up from the couch and pulling her flush into his body, smiling softly down at her, "you're really pretty, you know that?" 

Feeling the blush creep onto her cheeks, Priya's bottom lip found a home between her teeth, as she stretched up to place a kiss on his cheek, "don't let Alpine hear that," she winked, spinning herself out of his grasp and sauntering herself to the front door. 

Bucky's feet followed her quickly and he softly caught her waist, turning her back to him, "seriously though, I will call you as soon as this is taken care of and we can plan, I promise." 

"That sounds perfect," Priya whispered. 

Dipping his head once more, Bucky's lips caught hers in a soft, lingering kiss, followed by quick messy pecks down her jawline, pulling sweet giggles from her lips. 

"Ok Mr. Barnes," she laughed, tangling her fingers into his dress shirt and gently nudging him backwards, "I'm really looking forward to your call," she smiled brightly, "After all, I think there's a lot more to this story..." 

With a playful wink and another gentle kiss on his cheek, Priya left him on the other side of his apartment door. Bringing her fingers up, she placed them on her lips and let out a breathy laugh as the butterflies returned to swarm in her chest. 

That was something she was leaving out of the story. This Bucky Barnes, she was going to keep all to herself.

[chromatic-lamina]

Hi! You seem quite knowledgeable in this, so I though you might be the right person to ask: I'm trying to find some nice heart pirates fics with them as family doing shenanigans/general stuff. Most of the fics I've found in the Heart Pirates tag in ao3 revolve around a ship involving law and the hearts are just background characters who barely do anything, which isn't what I'm looking for. Do you have any recommendations? (I've already read some of your works, but if you want to recommend those that's good too!)

Platonic Heart Pirates Fics Rec List

Wow! huge compliment.

Yeah, I wouldn't classify myself as a Hearts Pirates writer, but I do write them. I think my best characterisations of them are in my multi-chaptered works, but they're super dark, and the Hearts aren't the focus (but boy do they shine when they get the chance!).

You've probably come across my Bepo's one shots and drabble collection. There's a few shippy pieces in there, but they're clearly marked. Most are just the crew, although focus on the main four. This was also done for the Hearts' Pirates Week, so covers all named crew members (up to that point). This one shot is surprisingly popular: Dark like the North Blue Sea (aka The Sea-Hill you Die On), and you might have come across the Straw Hat and Heart Pirates crews intermingling in this fic featuring Bepo and Chopper. I'm also guessing that you probably saw the piece I wrote for the op summer festival zine: Sun Path Ozoni. An earlier version of that is in Bepo's collection! There's also Bepo's Beptober, which features everyone, but I wouldn't really say explores them in depth!

Okay, RECS!

Any of the fics with the Hearts Pirate tag by @op-sheepy Here's a link to their AO3 dash. There are quite a few Heart Pirate drabbles on their tumblr page too.

@itsxandy 's work, stormy weather, is criminally under-read. That's 22,2221 amazing words on Law's dynamic with the crew in the polar tang in close quarters. Not necessarily happy families, but, oof, it's good. Even a very plausible theory put forward for the recruitment of Clione, I think! Or maybe Uni.

Dragon_in_a_Cypress_swamp has 6 amazing Hearts & Trafalgar Law fics too. Really good (I haven't read all, but what I have read just blows me away).

This is not a place of honor by Hyperbolic Reverie (I'm not guaranteeing that all the fics are sweet). And you've probably come across

the devil knows how to row by fab_ia, is set in Law Novel land, but with flashbacks to Law's time with the Donquixote Family. It's a work in progress. But very good. The author is keats on twitter, and I think one of the guest writers for the up coming Hearts zine. Their AO3 actually has a few Hearts' fics I want to pick through.

Dunno if this counts, but the Scrubs AU with Penguin and Shachi as Law's interns, and Bepo as a trusty nurse is both hilarious and poignant. @thegrimshapeofyoursmile

Cal14's recently been uploading some of their tumblr pieces.

@slashseeker (not getting their blog come up) has some platonic stuff on their AO3 page (their slash is pretty good too though!).

And that's about all I know for now. I'm sure you've read / been pointed towards the big collection: Tales from the Heart.

Almost forgot! If you go through @purplehairedwonder 's page, towards the start of beginning to write OP (so second page), there are about 5 fics that I'd classify as Heart centric, or the Hearts seen through Law's eyes. Not necessarily shenanigans though.

It is a ship fic, and it started before a lot of the Heart Pirates were named, but razbliuto's Methyl Nitrate Pirates really builds character and crew (and it's funny). @fablecore

Hope it helps! Sorry to anyone I've forgotten. Thanks for the ask! Let me know how they go.

Remember all, drop a kudos and comment if the fics strike your fancy❤️ Makes a Heart Pirates Heart loving Heart beat heartier.

[lenny-rambles]

About nothing in particular, a bit of Zolu in general, and some fics here and there

Holy smokes, I've had a week. In between exams, my cat getting lost, more exams and work I haven't got the time to actually ramble about anything, which is pretty sad (to me).

HOWEVER.

This doesn't mean to suggest I didn't read anything at all. Oh no, you'd be greatly mistaken to assume that's the case. I devoured a lot of fics this week, in an attempt to release stress because my house was also inhospitable for some days. So, I decided to read and re-read some fics, because that's how I deal with my problems (that is to say, I don't).

It's very interesting to see how their relationship's been depicted through the years! Like, one of my favorite tags for them is "Devotion" (because that's SO them), and the tag's got 60 works, barely. And it was first used in 2019, for a romance fic. That's barely any time at all in OP time! I don't know why though, maybe everyone knew it but struggled to put it into words (like them). As in, everyone would assume right out of the bat that that's their dynamic. Or maybe not! You can never know with fandoms, the fact that Agenda Piece exists still surprises me.

Also, I've grown the habit of reading through an author's works rather than just searching with tags. Like, if there's a fic I really liked I'll go into their profile and read more. And almost every time they have more! It's always a thrill when they have like old works, it comes to show how much they've improved, and how their characterization also evolves with them!

One of my favorite examples of this, that I discovered this week, is the series Fantastic Idiots And Where To Find Them.

Title: Fantastic Idiots and Where To Find Them (series)

Author: Mir4le

Relevant Tags: magic school AU, ASL brothers (my beloved), Law, Zoro, first person POV, on going, maybe there are ships maybe not

Now, disclaimer from me. No one here's endorsing the terf's work as in "go read her stories, they are good", because they aren't. And giving her money in anyway is terrible (in my humble opinion), she poses a lot of terrible ideas for both Trans and Feminism Activism. I hate the woman, and her story is not even that good. She holds A LOT of unethical and incorrect social theories (like eugenics, ew) in her books, AND REFUSES to reconsider or anything. She thrives in the attention she gets from that, I'm sure. Sadly, nostalgia is a bitch, and her books where probably the first I read entirely in english, and through piracy, so I still have some sort of appreciation for them, as terrible works of fiction as they are.

The good news is that the setting is so unbelievably generic that you could say "generic witch society" and that would do just fine, so that's what I'm doing. It's a generic witch society boarding school AU. Ah, the thing. The fic's written in first person POV (sighs), so if that's no your cup of tea you should stay away. The narration improves, the POV never stops being first person. I'm not exactly a fan of first person POV, but I was looking for fic with Law in them, so I picked it up.

Now, the first few chapters where... an experience. They were the author's first work, and you could tell. I don't mean anything mean with that, it's just Difficult to pin the POV for me, so I struggled a bit. Nevertheless, the prompt was interesting enough to keep me going, even if I kinda rushed through some stuff (sorry). It was also noticeable how much the author liked the characters, and the story, even early on, so that also kept me going. Rarely a story loved that much doesn't improve on quality, both because the strive to be better for the story and all the practice they get by putting it out in the first place. So congrats and thank you to the author for your work, it paid off.

Now, another thing about the fic, I'm not exactly what you'd describe a Law fan. I like his story, it was OP most angsty backstory for a while in my opinion (before Kuma, oh Kuma), so that just drew me in. Sadly, it didn't get me like I wanted to. Maybe it's because I binged the anime in an unholy amount of time (another day I'll talk about that) but by the time we got the why of Law, I just wanted Dressrosa to be done. So while I appreciate his character, the anime just made me want to get over with it. All of that to say that I usually avoid fics with Law, because I just don't like him that much. But I stayed. For the potential this had.

And my staying paid off!!!! It was awesome to see another take on ASL, and adding Law to the mix, not through Luffy, but Ace and Sabo was Not something I was expecting! It is also one of the key factors as to why the fic is so entertaining, you keep trying to imagine how the relationships in canon will translate to the setting. I got a lot of them wrong, it keeps you guessing, I love it. The way it shows Law involuntarily warming up to Ace and Sabo is so good. It feels a lot like something 11 y/o Law would write in his diary, it's cute.

Plot-wise it isn't that strong in the first installment (even the author said so), so you are really looking out for character interactions rather than worldbuilding. So it delivers on that, a bit chopped here and there, but by the time you get to the final chapters (there are like, 5) it's way more dynamic.

Ah, I've run out of juice, all right speedrun.

The whole thing, plot and narration improves a lot. Getting to a point in the most recent chapters where I can say that the author nailed down at least Zoro's and Ace's POV to the t, I can't say for Law though, not my area of expertise.

Surprising to no one, I like the Zoro POV chapters best, because we get Strawhat crew, and Luffy and Zoro, and I really like them.

I like the professors and classes they teach they teach. Who is which head of house and all that, nice, very in character.

Whitebeard's kids are a thing here, and I love it, they are fantastic.

Oh, Robin in particular has a lot going for her in the fic, you should also stay for her, if you are a fellow Robin fan.

The shenanigans are AU typical, that's not bad at all, I like how much emphasis they give to pranks and all.

CORAZON IS ALIVE AND WELL, more beautiful things.

Idk, I wish I could tell you more but I kinda read the whole thing for the experience and enjoyed it a lot. Even if it's unfinished.

Oh well, I guess that's it.

Also, "When All the Embers Die" also updated, as well as the other Zoro fic from the same author. And "Treasures for your Treasure (The Pearls Pale in Your Eyes)" ALSO updated, a Zoro update (thanks author) to say the least. I might say some things, I might not, probably I will, once I'm out of this hell hole called midterms.

Anyways, if you read this far thank you very much. Please read the fics mentioned above, even if it's for the experience, they are wonderful stories.

[lupinedreaming]

The Hidden Plot: A Tale of the Phantom of the Opera Fandom

It’s here!! My write up on the infamous Hidden Plot about the 2004 Phantom of the Opera movie! I know I said I wanted to put this on the r/hobbydrama subreddit, but I’m not sure it meets their guidelines, so I’m posting it here on Tumblr.  

Disclaimer: If you come across any of the people mentioned in this write up, do NOT bother them. This is silly and strange, yes, but is ancient fandom history and is also relatively harmless. Be nice and don’t hassle online strangers. Now, on to the story.

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The Beginning of the Journey: 

Allow me to set the scene: It is the late 2000s. It is after school, and you are a young teen with too much internet access and no social life. What do you do? You go visit one of your favorite forums to lurk on — phantomoftheopera.com.

You browse around for a bit, trying to decide what thread you’d like to read. You settle on one that’s something about a hidden plot and symbolism in the 2004 adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera musical. 

As you begin to read, you are very confused. The author of this thread is talking about lens flares, lighting, and camera angles all pointing to a secret, secondary plot hidden within the movie. All of this, the OP says, was completely intentional on the director’s part. Even though you are at an age where you’ll believe some pretty far fetched stuff, this still sounds TOO out there for you. 

Unknowingly, you have stumbled across what has infamously become known in the POTO fandom as the Hidden Plot. 

Explaining the Hidden Plot (Kind of):

You may be asking, “What exactly IS the Hidden Plot?”

Good question, and one that is a little complicated to answer due in part to the fact that many sites that hosted threads about the Hidden Plot are now lost to the internet sands of time. It seems they can’t  even be accessed via the Wayback Machine. (Trust me, I tried.) 

So, I’ve done my best to cobble together an overview based on the recollections of POTO fans who were there when this theory was being actively posted, as well as info provided in this Google doc, which has direct quotes from the author of the Hidden Plot. The doc was helpfully provided by @glassprism (thank you!).

I have made sense of the Hidden Plot based on the above linked doc, this post from rjdaae, and a summary of the Hidden Plot on the FFnet bio seemingly written by the main author of the theory. I’m not going to link her bio so no one leaves her mean comments.

A Summary of the Hidden Plot:

The basic idea of this fan theory is that there is a second, deeper story embedded into the 2004 POTO movie. This story is conveyed through cinematography, lighting, clothing, sets, the placement of props, and more. The Hidden Plot is as follows:

Erik is literally the King of Music. What does that mean? Well, I’m not sure what it means beyond the fact that he feels he is in charge of the opera house, but I think there’s some supernatural element. Christine is his Queen of Music, naturally. 

Speaking of a supernatural element, in the Hidden Plot, the “Phantom” is not a persona that Erik uses. Oh, no, the Phantom is a literal evil spirit that possesses Erik sometimes. 

Raoul factors into this by being a Priest of Light (I’m also not sure what that means) and is … ERIK’S BROTHER!! Yep. 

Somehow, Christine and Raoul save Erik from the clutches of the evil spirit, and Christine and Erik become King and Queen of Music and go off into the light. (Or something like that.)

Wait … What? Where Did the Theory Author Get This Stuff From?

Like I mentioned earlier, apparently this Hidden Plot is revealed through EXTREMELY subtle “clues.” 

I’ll give a couple examples of the theory author’s own words, which were compiled in the Google doc:

Evidence for Erik being King of Music:

“** ERIK: “Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me to serve me to sing, for my music, my music”

“** These also seem like key words that Erik is king of music. This is his kingdom. He wants her to serve him as his queen, to sing for him, and he uses "me"--first person, showing Phantom is gone. (Kings send a servant {or more} to do their bidding and bring s person to them for an audience, just as what happened when the Phantom went to collect Christine and bring her to the king. The Don Juan song shows that is what happened.)”

Example of using the movie’s lighting to hint at the Hidden Plot:

“** When he helps her out of the boat, a long ray of blue light goes across her head, followed by another blue ray of light going through his middle--his heart (spirit). (This isn't just about being a reflection from the light—because if it were it should logically have happened many more times all the times they showed white light, and didn’t. It happens other times in story, and always in the same places on their bodies, sometimes without any white light showing.) Also, as he sings to her "Turn your face away from the garish light of day"--another blue line of light goes across his back (his middle, where his heart would be).”

Evidence that Raoul is Erik’s brother: 

“** Because the white horse is symbolic of Raoul and they made a point of putting it next to the family crests in Erik’s lair, I believe this is a clue showing Raoul is a relation (Erik’s brother), and that Erik is actually a de Chagny. Count de Chagny to be exact.”

And now, for a few visual pieces of evidence that would make any YouTube conspiracy theorist proud: 

(Screenshots taken from this post.)

What Are the Origins of the Hidden Plot? Who Came Up With It?

I thought that the Hidden Plot originated circa 2007-2009, which is when I was actively lurking on POTO.com and saw it pop up there. 

However, it appears to date back further than this. 

According to rjdaae and this forum thread, the Hidden Plot first popped up shortly after the 2004 film. Its first home was on the WB message boards, and then moved to different forums across the internet. As I mentioned earlier, it appears that all of these forums are now gone, and all that remains of the Hidden Plot are pieces saved in the aforementioned Google doc and people’s recollections of threads discussing the Hidden Plot. But I digress. 

As for who came up with the Hidden Plot, according to ya-chai 2 in this forum thread, two unnamed people first came up with the Hidden Plot, but its most fervent advocate and writer was someone who used to go by the username Honeyphan. 

However, the idea that it was created by two other people shpuld be taken with a grain of salt, as that’s the only source I’ve found saying the theory was made by someone other than Honeyphan. 

At any rate, who IS Honeyphan? Based on old profiles of hers I found, she is/was a huge fan of the 2004 POTO film and created lots of fanfic and photomanips for it. She appears to be a pleasant enough person and a very dedicated fan with some unusual inclinations toward the conspiratorial, if the Hidden Plot is anything to go by. 

What was the Fan Reaction to This? 

Largely the fan reaction seemed to be, and still is, skeptical amusement. POTO fans generally do not seem to hate the Hidden Plot but find it very silly and entertaining. 

However, based on fans’ recollections, there was a group of very dedicated people who discussed and espoused this theory. 

Quoting again from ya-chai 2 again, it sounds like proponents of the Hidden Plot might have brought their passion into the real world: 

“At one point there were supposedly sessions where forum members met at each other's houses to discuss it. That's all I know about that.

“I do know that both Gerard Butler and Patrick Wilson were asked by members of the WB forum if they were aware of any hidden story. Both actors denied knowing anything about a so called hidden story.”

If you’re a very charitable and understanding person, you might be wondering why the Hidden Plot had any attention at all. After all, there are lots of POTO AUs out there, and this could pass as one. 

The reason why it has gotten so much attention over the years is very well explained in this post by ancientphantom: “What differentiated it from regular shipping and fanfic-writing was A) the extreme insistence that it was actually part of the movie and not invented by fans, and B) the willingness to create “evidence” out of the most ridiculous details, including the timing of random lens flares, what shoes everyone is wearing, how we should interpret hairstyles, and of course the memorable Stockinggate.”

What Can We Conclude from All of This?

My general takeaway is that the Hidden Plot is an early example of something we’ve seen in other fandoms in more recent years — intense fans insisting that a conspiracy theory surrounding their favorite piece of media IS real. I think the best example of this phenomenon is the Johnlock Conspiracy. 

The Johnlock Conspiracy actually has a lot in common with the Hidden Plot, imo, in that proponents of both pointed to subtle clues planted in cinematography, decor, etc., which revealed the “true” story. 

But yeah, that’s about it! That’s what I could dig up about the Hidden Plot. If any POTO fans have other memories of the Hidden Plot or interacting with its proponents, feel free to share in the comments or reblogs of this post!

[lostfirefly]

You’ve Got The Same Dream as Me (Ch. 2)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) 

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. 

Warnings: 12+, I think. As always, no smut, angst, violence. Adventures and fun only. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.

Words: 770

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

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Chapter 1

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Catherine set her alarm clock for five in the morning.

She quickly washed up, drank coffee in her hotel room and hurried to the bookstore.

Even though the store opened at 9 a.m., she was on the porch at 6:00 a.m.

"God, I'm such an idiot. What if the book isn't there? Then what? I've traveled hundreds of miles to get here for nothing? No, it can't be", Catherine mumbled to herself, tapping her feet on the paving stones.

At 8 a.m., a figure began approaching the store.

Catherine squinted slightly trying to make out the man.

"It's a girl! Thank goodness it's a girl! Why I thought Rika was a man's name?", Сatherine's mind was spinning with all sorts of thoughts.

Finally, the girl with brown hair and green eyes came to the door.

"Hello, you're Rika, aren't you? I'm Catherine Mitchell", Catherine said, rising quickly from the steps.

"I'm very happy for you that you're Сatherine. But the store is closed until 9:00 a.m".

"W-wait... I need..."

Suddenly the door slammed shut in front of the bewildered Catherine's nose. 

"What the fuck?!", Catherine started knocking on the door. "Hey, you, open your damn door! Open it!"

Without waiting for an answer, Catherine peered through the small window near the front door and saw the girl quietly making tea. 

"Brown-haired bitch!", Catherine cursed and plopped down on the porch.

9 a.m. Finally, the click of the lock was heard.

"Yes!", Catherine jumped up from her seat and stormed into the store without a moment's hesitation.

"May I help you?", the girl asked with a smile. 

"Take that smile off your pretty face. Don't pretend like you didn't see me on the porch, bitch!" Catherine shouted, slamming her fist down hard on the counter. "Damn..."

"Are you ok?", the girl asked. 

"Fuck..", Catherine rubbed her wrist. "None of your business. Anyway, as I said I'm Catherine Mitchell. I know you have Professor Alabasta's book".

"How did you know about this book?", the girl was clearly surprised.

"It doesn't matter. I know you have it. I looked it up and your store is the only one in town that has it. How much is it worth? I'd be willing to buy it", Catherine tried to look more confident with her arms crossed over her chest.

"For the record, young lady, I'm Rika, the owner of this store and I don't need to be spoken in the tone like that", said the girl, wiping the dust on the counter.

"What? I...", Catherine took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm sorry", she said reluctantly.

"Oh", Rika said with a sigh. "Once again, Catherine Mitchell.. What are you looking for?"

Catherine tried with all her might not to lose her temper. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a few deep breaths, counted to five and continued.

"I'm looking for Professor Alabasta's book with a silly name "The key to the treasure". Please.. I read you have it". 

"Maybe I have.. or maybe not", Rika said, arms were crossed.

"Look.. My sister. She's gone. I'm looking for her.  One of the last entries in her diary points to the professor's book. Apparently, she's gone somewhere in the desert, but she's lost her trail. I came here to find her. Please...", said Catherine, her blue eyes were wet with tears.

"The desert? You mean.. the Sabaody Desert?" Rika asked, her eyes were widen.

"Yes!!", Catherine hurriedly pulled out the journal with the entries. "See? The coordinates in the journal point this way. But to get there, I need Professor Alabasta's book. And equipment..."

"Jesus Christ", Rika said, looking at the notes and scratching the palm of her right hand. "Wait... What exactly are you looking for? Your sister? Or something else?"

"Something else?" Catherine asked in surprise.

"Oh, God, don't tell me you've never heard of the treasure that lies somewhere in that desert. It's supposedly hidden in the area your coordinates indicate. It's not certain, but it could be".

"I'm not interested in the treasure, I just want to find my sister. Before I left here, I went through her bedroom and found this", Catherine put on the counter some maps, another diary and pieces of paper with various notes.

"You know, darling", Rika stretched, tapped her fingers on the table and cast a glance at Catherine. "I'll sell you the compass, the equipment, the map and whatever else you need, but I have one condition. I'm coming with you".

"Where are you going with me?"

"Shit! Where your coordinates point, you fool! I wouldn't turn down an offer like that. I'm an excellent map reader. But, frankly speaking, it's dangerous to go alone there. We need a guide to help us get there,", Rika leaned on the table, propping her chin up with her hands.

"Do you have someone in mind for us?"

"Uh, kind of.. Yeah", Rika scratched her cheek with her finger. "Tell me. Do you like the circus?"