#v. a. walker . recognized

[sortagaysortahigh]

Lovefool | James 'Bucky' Barnes

A/N: Guys ive been writing ts for like four days and lemme tell you im so glad it's over. Ugh everyone say thank you to @anxietyandtacos for making me into a bucky girl, and thank you to @love-chx for feeding into my bucky dellusions and beta-ing this monster of a fic <3. I was gonna split it in 2 but I'm too lazy to edit that out so I prese,t idiots in love! Minor TB/CABNW SPOILERS

Summary: James Barnes is a terrible congressman, hence Sam sending you to be his assistant. You keep him on a tight leash, and you both do a horrible job at hiding your feelings for one another. Add jealousy and alcohol to the mix? what could possibly change?

Warnings: 2nd person POV, use of Y/N, being a D1 John Walker hater, mentions of bipolar parents/family trauma (minor), forced super soldier serum injections (mention, not depicted!), reader is also a super soldier lowkey but she's just a girl ok!, cursing, spelling and grammar errors probably idk fr, jealous!bucky and jealous!reader, SMUT: hair pulling, choking w that vibranium arm, spitting, hickies, kissing, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected P in V, creampie, swallowing, reader gets a facial (im going to hell guys), minor handjob, whimpering (MEN WHIMPERING UGH!!)

Word Count: 18k. PART 2

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Secretary!Fem Reader (reader has vague descriptions regarding having STRAIGHTENED hair/curled hair, reader is shorter than Bucky)

UGHHHHHHHHH LET ME AT HIM! FUCK! anyways MINORS DNI!

James Buchanan Barnes is a terrible congressman.

How he managed to get elected to represent Brooklyn? You had absolutely no idea. Sure his campaign made sense, it aligned with his long-term goals of making amends for the tragedies he’d committed as the Winter Soldier, but outside of his initial campaigning,he hadn’t done much. 

He hadn’t had any major bills passed and he had a terrible media presence. Anytime anyone wanted to interview him or ask any major questions following a congressional session, he would mutter the same ‘yeah uh huh, it’s super important, oh I think we should care about this- blah blah blah’. 

It made zero sense.

That’s the entire reason you were hired. Then again, it was also because you owed Sam Wilson a major favor after he opted not to arrest you following the whole ‘Flag Smashers terrorism’ ordeal. It’s not like you were voluntarily involved with the group, but you were a major part of the brains behind the tech-based operations.Plus, you knew how to talk to people. Most importantly, you knew your ins and outs of politics and had a vast network of connections.

“Bucky, can you just listen to me for once! You’re gonna fuck up your entire career if you keep bullshitting responses to the press!” 

You let out a frustrated sigh, two fingers pinching your nose bridge as you shut your eyes. You’re doing your best to remain calm and avoid screaming at him for the fourth time this week—it’s only Tuesday. 

Working with Barnes was like your own personal hell. 

It made sense that he was over a hundred years old. He's stubborn and rude and since the beginning, it was apparent that he didn’t trust you. He even vouched for you to be arrested a few years ago following the takedown of the Flag Smashers, but that was mostly because you had kicked his ass and clearly bruised his ego.

Things were better now…well, if you didn’t count the constant arguments. He was just too nonchalant at times.

Bucky nodded his head, clearly ignoring you as he focused on buttoning up his white shirt. 

The both of you were in his Washington D.C. penthouse. It was a nice place all things considered, a luxury awarded to him by the government, and, of course, being a national ‘hero’ recognized by Captain America himself did come with perks. 

You lean against the island counter, arms crossed in front of your chest while you glare at him. Meanwhile, he was focused on his own reflection in the large circular wall-mounted mirror across the room. 

You were due for a briefing surrounding the Foreign Affairs congressional committee soon, but based on the way he couldn’t answer any of your questions, you knew he’d either be making a fool of himself or you’d have to swoop in and save the day again.

“Would you relax for five minutes? All you do is yell at me, I get you’re supposed to be my know-it-all secretary but Christ, you need to calm down.” 

Your right eye twitches at his response, then you grab the nearest item to you, a glass vase, and launch it in his direction.

Bucky caught it with ease, shaking his head at you as he eyes you from the reflection of the mirror.

Admittedly, Bucky had no issue with his wandering eyes when it came to you. His gaze trailed from your irritated expression, a smirk on his face at the sight of your ever-present pout, then he eyed the few thin gold chains you always wore tucked into your shirt. Today, you hadn’t buttoned your shirt all the way up just yet, leaving quite the eye-full of cleavage out. 

It didn’t help that you were practically pressing your tits together with your arms crossed below them. Bucky took in the rest of your outfit, one of your black pencil skirts that was deemed as work appropriate and modest--even though it hugged all of your curves perfectly and made your ass practically irresistible. Finally, he landed on your shoes, the pointed toe stiletto heels that he knew made your feet hurt, yet you always had a pair on.

They did wonders for your legs.

You ran a hand through your perfectly straightened hair. Usually every strand was laid perfectly and you’d spend too much time making sure it wasn’t frizzy in the slightest-which was like hell during D.C. summers. Now it was messy, but it was messy in a way that made Bucky’s brows raise slightly.

“Don’t tell me to fucking relax Barnes. Your political career is a direct reflection of my political career. I hate to break it to you, but us being two ex-enemies of the state already have us on thin ice constantly! Presidential pardons don’t mean shit in the eyes of the public—a public which you’re supposed to serve!”

You were raising your voice again, he shook his head at that, now finally turning around to face you while he grabbed his tie.

“Just come help me with this tie so we can go. I read the files. I get it, if I fuck up it’s a problem, blase blase blase. I’ve got speech writers, advisors, and most importantly—you.” 

You sighed again, hands now on your hips as you stared at him while clenching your jaw and shaking your head. You hated when he said things like that to you, things that were a little too sweet for a supposed strictly professional relationship.

Sure, you’d known him before he was a Congressman, but you weren’t close in the slightest. 

Then during the aftermath of the Flag Smashers, Sam had you in constant therapy sessions, and after pulling several strings, he had you working side-by-side with him. That’s what really launched your political career.

People liked to argue that Captain America wasn’t political, but he absolutely was. The mantle itself was propaganda, and honestly, you were glad it was Sam holding the shield, he was the best fit for the job regardless of what idiots thought. 

Sam brought you into the world of politics, and it was easy for you to build a network, plus you were able to spin your own narratives regarding your past, playing into people’s emotions, and sure, it was a little manipulative, but you were smart. 

Y’know what they say—work smarter, not harder.

You had started working with Bucky because Sam had cashed in on the ultimate favor after watching Bucky during his campaign trail. His speeches were all amazing, but then when anyone would ask him a candid question, he would struggle, or he’d be dismissive and it was evident he didn’t want to answer questions or be there.

That’s when you showed up, and following his election, you were at the forefront of his public appearances. Answering questions on his behalf, assisting in briefings, and even being with him during any congressional sessions, especially committee sessions. Most representatives didn’t have their assistants with them at all times, but things were different now, and as the world continued to adapt and change, so did the sphere of politics.

You rolled your eyes as you approached him, stopping less than a foot away, ignoring the ever-apparent butterflies you’d feel in your stomach anytime you had to stand in close quarters with him. It wasn’t that being next to him flustered you, it was being face-to-face with him. There was a height difference, but the heels helped with that.  

However, the heels did not help with his wide stature. Bucky Barnes is a wall of muscle, and some days it felt like his biceps alone were the size of your head.

You knew he knew how to tie his own tie. But you also knew he liked when you did it.

He looked down at you, a smirk on his face while he watched your hands work against his royal-blue tie. Your jaw was still clenched, and you were very clearly annoyed with him.

Bucky knew you had a soft spot for him. Just like he had a soft spot for you.

You know this because he’d already fired two assistants prior to Sam ushering you into the role.

You were the only person he’d ever let scream at him over anything. Admittedly, he kind of liked it when you yelled at him too, but he wouldn’t tell you that. It was attractive because, well, you were attractive. But you were also his assistant that was around eighty years younger than him.

“Can you at least pretend you want to be there today?” You glanced up at him as you finished adjusting his tie. Your faces were inches apart as you searched his icy blue eyes for an answer.

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try for you.”

You nodded at that, moving away from him and walking towards the sofa to  grab his suit jacket and your purse. Then you glanced down at your watch, muttering a few curses at the time. 

He watched you walk towards the door, snapping your fingers a few times at him. He smiled and shook his head, grabbing his briefcase and keys as he followed you. Before the both of you could leave, you handed him his jacket, raising both brows.

“Put it on, Barnes.” 

He nodded at that, shrugging it on then buttoning it. You were quick to run your hands along the front of his chest, straightening out any potential wrinkles—the motion felt natural to you. The first time you’d done it, it left you flustered and blushing, but now it didn’t bother you. The quicker it was done, the quicker you’d actually be able to make it out of the building and to the car that had been waiting on you both for ten minutes.

Bucky didn’t like being driven around, it was something he was still getting used to. It wasn’t like he couldn’t drive himself. Then again, the drivers usually had bulletproof trucks to avoid any potential Kennedys happening.

Yeah, his career as the Winter Soldier was extensive and most likely resulted in several of the current governmental security measures. 

Besides, at least he knew you would be safe by his side in the blacked out suburban.

On the drive to the capitol building you were talking non-stop, running him through every agenda that had been previously reviewed and would most likely be circled back to today. You also went on and on about him needing to actually answer questions with real information, not his typical half-assed responses brushing everything off.

When the SUV was finally parked and stopped, you grabbed his forearm before getting out of the car. 

“Don’t piss me off today, Barnes.” 

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he nodded his head. “No promises, Sweetheart”.

When he said no promises he meant it.

The both of you hadn’t been in the hearing for longer than twenty minutes before he’d managed to irritate you. It didn’t help that this hearing was scheduled to last three hours. 

You prayed that the three hours would go by fast, especially with Bucky already brushing off another congressman. The entire reason he was on this specific committee was because of his experience overseas working with the former Avengers, and several foreign threats, plus his ‘stellar’ work with groups such as the Flag Smashers.

All he was asked to do was give his input on the current situation regarding Celestial Island. That was it. 

It was a simple question, with an even simpler response, and he’d manage to start his bullshit fiasco again.

You were quick to cut him off, a bright smile on your face as you leaned into his space, pulling the small microphone in your own direction.

“What Congressman Barnes means is that we’re very concerned with the potential threat of any foreign militant uprisings pertaining to the discovery and appearance of Celestial island. Alongside that, it’s evident that with the newfound and limited natural resources on the island, there are several concerns regarding the legal boundaries of mining on foreign territory.”

You sat back in your seat, glancing around the room while several officials nodded and took notes. Bucky was staring right at you, his eyes slightly squinted while he tried not to make a scene. He then subtly pinched your thigh, which led to you swatting his hand away. 

When he leaned into your space, you were practically enveloped in the smell of his cologne. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t relax you slightly. 

Bucky whispered into your ear, “Can you not shove me out of the way to correct me every five minutes.” 

Your jaw clenched at his words. His breath against your ear sent a shiver along your spine, and quite frankly you wanted to slap him. Not because he was wrong to address you in a private manner, but because he was making a fool out of himself and pissing you off.

As he pulled back you offered a smile that was very clearly fake. Well, at least to him it was fake.

“Of course, Congressman.” 

The rest of the hearing was spent the same way, you taking notes while he took half-assed notes. Telling him what to say and what not to say, and correcting him a few more times when he couldn’t provide enough detail on the matter.

Once the meeting was adjourned and the both of you were out of the room, the press were everywhere, surrounding each member, asking a million questions, and when they crowded around you and Bucky, you let out a deep sigh, glancing up at him as he smiled and nodded at the reported forcing microphones into his face.

“Congressman Barnes, what is your opinion on the ongoing Celestial Island expeditions and the potential interstellar crisis right now?” He glanced over at you for a brief few seconds. Then he looked around before clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath. He then leaned closer to one of the mics.

“No comment.” 

With that, he was quick to guide you through the crowd and out of the building.

The two of you stood at the top steps of the capitol building, your gaze focused on a series of notes that you’d taken, eyes trailing each sentence, trying to compartmentalize all of the major points of the meeting. Meanwhile, he was shooting the driver a text, letting him know that things had wrapped up.

“You said you wouldn’t piss me off today, Barnes.” 

He shrugged, now looking at you, eyes taking in the way that the sun practically radiated off of your skin. God, you were so beautiful—if only you didn’t talk so damn much. “I said no promises.” 

You shook your head, now squinting as you looked around, the sun brighter than ever. Without even thinking about it, you were using your free hand to fish in Bucky’s jacket pocket, pulling out his black aviator sunglasses before slipping them on and going back to your reading.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little too comfortable?” 

You blinked a few times, shrugging the same way he always shrugged when people asked him questions. “You’ll be fine Barnes. Also, don’t forget we have a fundraiser to attend tomorrow, black tie event, I think Sam’s an honored speaker there. And if you’re bringing your team of miscreants, make sure to keep them on a tight leash.” With that, you started descending down the white stone steps, leaving him confused.

He watched as you walked off. At first he thought maybe you were messing with him, however, after you’d made it to the bottom and continued walking down the cement path, he knew you were on the way somewhere. It was a nice day outside, so maybe it made sense that you’d go for a walk on Capitol Hill? But that usually entailed you needing to get something, or speak with someone.

“Where the hell are you going?!” he called after you, leading you to pause and spin around, pushing his sunglasses to the top of your head, moving your hair out of the way.

“To get lunch, what am I supposed to photosynthesize?” 

He shook his head, following after you and ignoring the looks he was getting from tourists, locals, and other political figures.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up to you, his long strides quicker than yours as he descended the stairs. That and he wasn’t wearing a pair of four inch stilettos on. Some days when you moved too slowly he’d debate throwing you over his shoulder to get somewhere quicker.

But that was both unprofessional and embarrassing for the both of you. He knew for a fact that you’d make a scene, most likely shouting at him, switching between his military rank to his political title while hitting him.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair before glancing at you as the both of you walked in sync. He took a second to look around, observing the area to ensure there were no major threats. An old habit that always seemed to surface anytime he was with you in public. 

“So, where exactly are we going?” 

You shrugged, now holding a manilla folder above your face to further block the sun, squinting behind the black aviators before crossing the busy street. It wasn’t uncommon for secretaries to walk around the Hill, especially during lunch or recess. You knew your way around the city relatively well.

However, it was clear Bucky did not, considering you were guiding him in the direction of the Vietnamese restaurant that the two of you frequented during the first few months of working together. There wasn’t any point in trying something new, not when you had several pages of notes to sort through and reiterate to Bucky.

“To 54, y’know the cute little mom and pops place we used to go to all the time? Best summer rolls in D.C.” 

He nodded as you spoke.Truthfully, he had no idea what you were talking about. Sure, he knew that when you first started working for him you had dragged him to lunch, claiming that taking a break from the ‘seriousness’ of the job was important, but outside of that, he couldn’t remember half of the places you dragged him to.Usually the food was good, though.

After about ten more minutes of walking alongside Bucky, who was constantly grabbing you and pulling you away from incoming traffic when you’d been too focused on the hearing notes to actually look before crossing the street, you’d finally made it to the restaurant.

The second you opened the door, you spotted Ms. Minh, the older woman that owned the restaurant. Within a few seconds she’d noticed you and Bucky, a wide smile on her face as she approached the both of you with menus.

“My favorite customers! Tell me Bucky, are you two engaged yet?” 

You blinked a few times, eyes wide at the insinuation that you and Bucky were together. When you glanced over at him, his brows were knit together as his eyes met yours. 

Neither of you would acknowledge the rosy flush on his face.

“Now, Ms. Minh, you know we’re not together romantically. He’s my boss, and between me and you, the biggest grouch I know. Plus, he never listens to me! I can’t be with a man who doesn’t listen.” You spoke as you followed her to a table that was a bit more secluded in the back corner of the dining area. 

She shook her head, scoffing a bit before elbowing you, leaning closer to you.“Men never listen, but he’s a good one, can’t let him slip away.” 

You gasped at that, laughing and smiling at her as you sat down. He slid into the seat directly across from you and smiled at Ms. Minh when she handed him his menu, lightly slapping his shoulder and winking before walking off.

“I remember this place now.” 

You nodded your head, smiling as you read through the menu. You knew exactly what you were getting, but you also didn’t want to look into those baby blues right now. Not while you tried your best to ignore the butterflies—scratch that, it was like an entire team of olympic gymnasts were doing somersaults in your stomach.

You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t ever thought of Bucky romantically. Outside of being an absolute moron in the realm of politics, he’s a genuinely good guy. He’s done the work to make amends, he understands empathy, he’s kind and giving, and in the words of the other assistants you had the displeasure of working with, he really was a tall glass of water.

“Are you gonna take the sunglasses off, Sweetheart?” 

You blinked a few times, finally registering that everything still had a dark blue-ish hue. You were too lost in thought to actually take off the aviators. He already had his hand out, waiting for you to place them in his palm.

Once you returned the glasses, one of the servers came around to take your order, and without any hesitation you were ordering for yourself and for him. When he opened his mouth to say something you quickly shushed him before finishing the order. “I know what you like, Barnes.” 

He nodded slowly, looking from you to the glass of ice water on the table. Sure, you did know what he liked to a certain extent. 

He also liked you, a lot more than he should’ve. But he was positive you didn’t know that, even if you were the biggest know-it-all on the goddamn planet.

You finally looked up at him, now stirring the thin plastic straw in your glass of water, taking a second to push the lemon wedge to the bottom of the glass, lightly squishing it with the straw.

“So, after the term is over, what’s next for you Congressman Barnes?” 

He shrugged, one hand reaching for his phone, the other on the tabletop, fingers tapping against the worn wood. The white, green, and red hues from one of the bright neon signs on the wall reflecting against his skin ever so slightly as he looked at you.

James Barnes needed to be painted. He was too handsome to not be preserved forever in art. Then again, anytime you’d ever mentioned anything about him being preserved, he’d make a joke about being in cryostasis that would leave your jaw dropped.

“I dunno, probably go back to being a hero or something, who knows. Got the whole ‘New Avengers’ thing to address. Maybe, keep working on the whole making amends thing. Not sure if politics are for me.” 

You tried to hold in your laugh but it easily slipped past the cracks in your stoic expression. “I’m gonna say this as your friend, not your assistant so don’t fire me. But you’re really shitty at your job.” 

He laughed at that, shaking his head lightly, his hair had a slight bounce that made you want to run your fingers through the chocolate locks.

“You’re probably right Sweetheart, but the Winter Soldier turned politician looks good on paper. Sam’s always talking about history remembering names, guess it was the best way to redeem myself. Y’know serving the people.” 

As the both of you spoke, your food was brought out. The two bowls of pho were placed on the table, alongside your side of summer rolls. You absentmindedly grabbed the few bottles of sauce on the table. Immediately adding some hoisin sauce and a dash of sriracha to his, the way he always liked it.

Then you moved onto your own, throwing bean sprouts, mint, and jalapenos into the bowl.

“Y’know I can do things on my own.” 

You shrugged, now raising a single brow. “Then I wouldn’t have a job.” 

He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was evident, a large toothy grin that was typically reserved for the people closest to him. Bucky let out a boisterous laugh as he picked up his chopsticks, mixing his pho. “Fine, you got me there I guess.” 

You nodded at that, then added, “Besides, I like doing stuff for you. Actually, I think I just enjoy doing things for people in general, I guess it’s my love language or whatever Joaquin says.” 

The mention of the new Falcon bothered Bucky, not because he didn’t like the kid, but because it had an angry green emotion swirling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t envy, no it was blatant jealousy.

“Ah, how is Joaquin anyways?”

You raised a brow at him, swallowing the food in your mouth before answering. “Well, after crash landing into the Indian Ocean, his recovery is actually going really well. Been in physical therapy and rehab for a while, still doesn’t shut the hell up, and is constantly yapping Sam’s ear off—and mine—when he calls. I think he’s back in the air now too, last I heard from Sam at least.” 

He nodded as he ate. Then, he couldn’t help himself  “So…are you two still close?” 

Your brows knit together as your head craned back a bit. 

“It’s pretty unprofessional to ask about your assistant's love life, hmm?” you were teasing him, pointing the chopsticks in hand at him, both brows raised now. Then your smile cracked. “Good  thing we’re friends-ish. But no, me and Joaquin are a negative, sure we’re around the same age, but I dunno, he’s a great friend, but not my type y’know. I usually go for the whole tall, brooding, kinda mean, type.”

Bucky bit his bottom lip slightly as you spoke. Externally, he was focused on you and his meal. Internally he was jumping for joy at the fact that you weren’t remotely interested in Joaquin Torres. Plus, hearing your usual type, he was right up your alley. But once again, it was incredibly unprofessional to fraternize with your secretary.

“So, what about you, Barnes? Seeing any ladies when I’m not around?” You wiggled your brows at him. He shook his head, laughing while you practically stuffed your face with a summer roll. He was glad you were comfortable around him, but that comfort also fed into his delusions he liked to keep to himself.

Plus, you were annoying. But he kind of liked annoying these days.

“Yeah, no. All I do is work, don’t have much time for a social life, sure as hell don’t have time for a romantic one at this point. Besides, I’m a bit old to be going back into the dating scene.” 

You scoffed at that. “Not true at all! Sure on paper you’re like a century old, but I mean c’mon you’re like what thirty-six? Thirty-seven? And I mean this in the most professional sense, you’re not exactly ugly or unattractive. Sure you’re mean, a politician, and have a history of being a war criminal! But we all have flaws!” 

He blinked several times, head tilting slightly while shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge while taking a deep sigh. “You’re a terrible relationship coach.”

You shrugged at that, biting into the second summer roll before pausing, food clearly stuffed into your right cheek like a hamster. “That’s why I’m in politics, duh.”

Then your phone was ringing, and Party in the U.S.A. was on full blast, earning several looks from people around you both. You sighed, putting your spoon down before grabbing the phone off of the table and answering while looking directly at Bucky who had a single brow raised.

“Sam, please tell me this isn’t a work related call.” You sighed, as you listened to Sam speak, running a hand through your now frizzy hair. Then, you placed the phone between your cheek and shoulder, digging through your bag in the empty chair beside you until you were able to pull out your planner. The same planner which several people made fun of you for using, stating that you needed to just use google calendar or some other app.

The apps never worked for you, so you stuck to pen and paper.

Then you were flipping it open to this week, eyes scanning the different hearings, meetings, press releases, and scattered notes. Brows knit together as you dug out a pen.

“So, it’s mandatory? Like this isn’t one of those ‘oh we wish we could’ve made an appearance, so sorry for missing the fundraiser’?” You let out another sigh at Sam’s response, now looking up at Bucky who was focused on drinking his water and attempting to read all of your scribbled notes upside down.

“This is way beyond short notice Sam, y’know one day can you just call to invite us to one of Sarah’s cookouts again? Or maybe a fishing trip? Hell, even saving the world would be better.” 

Bucky groaned as he finally registered that you were making note of a charity fundraiser event happening in two days.

“Okay Sam, yes I’m fine! Yes I’m safe! Wha-what?! Don’t ask me that oh my god! Goodbye Sam!” You quickly hung up, a bit flustered over Sam’s last question, and as much as Bucky wanted to ask what it was, you were already focused on the schedule. Sometimes you were like a robot, immediately switching into work mode, hyper fixated on a task until it was fully complete.

This was one of those instances, or at least, from his end, that’s how it seemed.

Meanwhile, you were just avoiding his gaze after Sam had asked if you and Bucky and finally ‘dealt with that sexual tension’. It wasn’t like you had sexual tension! He was just your very attractive boss that fit right into your typical archetype of men that you’d go after, plus he was older, which was an added bonus. 

But he was also stubborn as ever, mean, unprepared, unprofessional at times, and obnoxious when he wanted to be. 

Everyone has flaws, you just had to fixate on his to remind yourself that Bucky’s your boss not your potential husb—boyfriend. The first option would be too far fetched, even if Ms. Minh was your biggest supporter in the matter.

“Okay Barnes, turns out we have a mandatory charity fundraiser to attend this weekend, and since today’s Thursday, I’ve gotta book us some flights for tomorrow to be back in New York. Turns out it’s in Manhattan, and apparently it’s at the old Avengers tower, also known as your future home.” 

He sighed, shaking his head at the reminder of Valentina’s ‘New Avengers’ scheme. He would be finishing his term before being fully acclimated into the misfit group of ex-criminals. But when the two of you were in New York, or he was needed, he would show up with you in tow. By technicality, you were also a part of the rag tag group of anti-heroes.

“You mean our future home?” 

Something about the way he emphasized the word ‘our’ sent heat along your neck and cheeks. 

“Please, I’m not a damn Avenger. I’ll probably stay in the political sphere, even after your stint as a Rep is over.” 

He shook his head at that, a ‘tsk tsk tsk’ leaving his lips. “That’s what you think, you were there at the press conference a few months ago. Plus, we’re still going back and forth with Sam about the whole Avengers fiasco. Pretty sure he’s just gonna form one gigantic group eventually, sift out the nutcases and move from there.” 

You reached across the table, lightly smacking his arm. “Don’t talk about Bob like that!” 

He sighed, shrugging again. “You’re always quick to defend him y’know that? You don’t defend Walker—” 

You cut him off. “Yeah cause he’s an asshole! But Bob is really sweet! He’s just, like, super bipolar. Besides, he reminds me of my mom, y’know, before she went totally psycho after the blip.” 

You cleared your throat at the mention of your mother, it was a sore subject, one that was typically only brought up in therapy.

“But you need to stop calling him a nutcase! And that also applies to Alexei! He’s also super nice! A bit much at times? Yes, but he cares! Don’t be so mean to your team.” 

He raised a singular finger, pausing your rant. “Actually, you’re the only one on my team, literally and legally. But fine, you’re right I guess, I’ll be nicer to them. Even if they’re all in need of some serious court mandated therapy.” 

You smiled at that, now closing your planner and shoving it back into your purse.

“Good. Besides, not everyone gets to be like Sam and recruit a bunch of happy-go-lucky people who have aspired to be heroes their entire life. I mean Joaquin and Kate are always so happy, they’re like golden retrievers. Peter’s also pretty positive, granted he’s still grieving, but I’m glad he’s managed to see the good in people again. But Stephen Strange can count his days, next time I see him, I’m kicking his ass on principle—off the record.”

Bucky let you rant, it wasn’t necessarily an ‘in one ear, out the other’ situation, but you looked so pretty as you spoke, the sunlight beaming from outside highlighted the soft angles of your face, then the LED signs on the wall had small hues of color dancing along your features, and your smile was always so vibrant and full of life.

He was whipped.

Sam was completely right.

“I’m charging this to your card by the way, and I’m tipping the same as the bill. You can afford it.” With that you winked, now walking towards Ms. Minh who sat behind a small counter that blocked the entrance to the kitchen. 

The next day was a whirlwind for Bucky, he knew he had to travel today. He was used to the constant back and forth. It was his last year as a Representative, and because he represented Brooklyn, the both of you were always going back and forth between New York and D.C.

However, you were the one who always organized the travel plans, and usually you both avoided early morning flights because you didn’t live together, meaning you were likely to make it, and he wasn’t. At this rate he should’ve been used to the travel, but he wasn’t and you constantly reminded him that he was on thin ice.

Today he’d finally fallen into the frozen lake.

Yesterday at about seven thirty you’d sent him the flight details. You were set to take off at eight in the morning, meaning you had to be up around five and at the airport by six forty-five. That would’ve given the both of you enough time to actually make your flight, then head over to the tower early to help with preparations for the fundraiser, and to go over a few important details with Yelena about the impending galactic crisis, the same crisis that you’d gotten a plethora of information on from sitting through the Foreign Affairs committee meetings over the past two months.

Bucky woke up at eight forty-five with twenty-three missed calls, fifteen very angry text messages, and three even angrier emails. He tried to call you back, and you purposefully ignored the first two calls, finally answering on the third, thankful that you’d purchased the in-plane wifi as it gave you the opportunity to yell at him.

Then, you were texting him flight information for eleven in the morning, which led to him rushing to pack a bag, almost missing the pile of documents that you’d left on his kitchen island for him with a neon-pink sticky note on top that said ‘Take Me’, and rushing out of his townhouse.

He didn’t have time for a driver, so he opted for his motorcycle which he knew would piss you off once you found out. Especially because he also wasn’t in his typical suit and tie, no he was in his black jeans, a t-shirt, and his leather jacket. 

That would inevitably get him yelled at. He’d seen the schedule you emailed to him, specifically stating that the moment he got off of his flight, he needed to haul ass—your words not his—to the tower to be remotely present at a meeting regarding a potential impeachment hearing. It wasn’t his impeachment—thankfully.

Bucky would also probably have to deal with more press on the issue circulating who the ‘real Avengers’ were, which was also a previous major point of contention between him and Sam, to the point that Sam had threatened a full-on lawsuit, followed by a copyright of the ‘Avengers’ title itself.

But under your guidance, also known as you forcing him and Sam to sit down and talk things over like ‘real adults’, they were able to come to a temporary agreement solely based on the fact that the galactic threats, celestial island, and global terrorist movements were a bigger issue than who got to ‘play hero for the day’. Once again, your words not his.

To be fair, Bucky wouldn’t have missed his flight if you lived with him. But you were hellbent on not living in the same house as him, even if you were his assistant, you called it ‘highly inappropriate and fully unprofessional’. Which, in theory it was, but he didn’t really care about theory.

It made perfect sense to him, you were already always with him, what was moving in going to change? Or rather, what would moving in change, negatively.

Now, he had to figure out how to grovel for your forgiveness. He had a few ideas, but they were far from professionally appropriate. There’s that very obvious line that Bucky is well aware of, the line that he can’t cross, even if he’s constantly contemplating it.

He’d barely made it to the airport on time, and he’d paid extra to park his motorcycle, which pissed him off. Then he was practically sprinting through the airport to make his flight, which he somehow managed to board at the last possible minute.

By the time he landed in New York, you were already ready to curse him out. Now standing in the airport outside of his gate, arms crossed in front of your chest, foot tapping against the tiled floors while you stared directly at the crowd leaving the flight.

He spotted you before you spotted him. He knew he was in deep shit based on the way your jaw was clenched and your usually pristine hair was thrown into a hairclip, loose strands framing your face, frizzy bits and pieces sticking out of the clip, and you weren’t in your heels.Instead you had on a pair of flats. 

Flats were never a good sign. 

Plus you ditched the pencil skirt for pants, and a black blouse. 

“Listen, Sweetheart, I’m sorry—” 

You easily cut him off, immediately shushing him and taking a deep breath. “Let’s go before I cuss you out and lose my goddamn job.” 

He slowly nodded at your cold demeanor.

This was different.

You walked ahead of him, he wasn’t used to that. Usually you kept the same pace, but not today, not when you were in your angry flats and exhausted outfit. 

It wasn’t until the both of you were in a cab that you finally broke.

“Are you freaking kidding me, Barnes?! Can you not piss me off for one day? One day! It’s not like I asked something major, I sent you the flight last night at seven! You had more than enough time to set a damn alarm! And why the hell aren’t you in a suit?! Did you miss the fact that the millisecond we get back, you need to be present as a Congressman?! Not as yourself—” you took a deep breath, looking up at the roof of the car as you shook your head.

You looked over at him, and he finally noticed how stressed you really looked, his eyes trailing your fatigued features. This job was difficult, he knew that, but something else was clearly bothering you.

“I get it. You’re tired, your job is hard, okay fine. But Jesus Christ. You just act like shit doesn’t matter, and fuck—it fucking matters. Everything fucking matters, Buck—” 

His right hand was on the side of your face, pulling you closer to him as he leaned forward to kiss you. 

It took you a few seconds to process the fact that James Buchanan Barnes was kissing you. The same James Barnes that was your boss who you were incredibly irritated with. But you didn’t pull away, no, you kissed him back.

Your lips moved in sync, and for a second you let yourself slip into a land of delusion where this would work. But this was real life, and you were not about to risk everything you’d worked hard for to screw your boss. So you shoved him off of you.

“What the fuck!?” 

He stared at you, lips slightly parted as his gaze was focused on your lips for a few more seconds. You tasted like strawberry chapstick and mint. Then his eyes met yours.

“Uh, something came over me, I guess?” his nonchalance made your eye twitch. Then you were shoving a folder full of paperwork into his chest.

“Focus on that or something, Jesus. Once again, I’m your assistant and that just crossed so many boundaries it’s not even funny. It was a mistake, plain and simple, we’re not circling back to this ever again, got it?” 

He slowly nodded at you, taking the leather-bound folder from you while rolling his lips inward.

The rest of the ride was silent. It wasn’t your typical comfortable silence, it was tense and awkward and you did your best to not look at him. Your gaze focused on the moving traffic in the streets and anything that wasn’t James Barnes. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong? Outside of your never-ending rage about my morning fuck ups—” 

You gasped slightly at the sound of him cursing. You knew he swore, but neither of you ever moved past words like ‘hell’ or ‘damn’ with one another, now you were both diving off of the deep end of cursing and kissing. This couldn’t possibly end well.

“Nothings wrong. I’m just tired.” 

He shrugged, flipping a few pages in hand, focused on the briefing notes that you’d reorganized. “No, something is definitely wrong, you have on one of your ‘having a bad day’ outfits. Down to the shoes.” 

You sighed, slumping into the seat with your arms crossed again. Eyes now on the street ahead. “My mom called.” 

He looked at you, noticing the way you were picking at the skin and cuticles around your thumb. It made sense, sure he knew you had a lot of pent up rage that was specifically reserved for him, but he was used to that, this was different. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged. “Not much to talk about. She’s having one of her ‘high on life’ phases again. Told me she’s off the pills. Won’t take them.” 

He nodded, he knew you had issues with your mom, but he also knew you really cared about her, even if you had an odd way of showing that. Not everyone was raised with ‘I love yous’. “Y’know you can always take time off to go see her, the worlds not gonna end.” 

You shook your head at that, gaze now on your hands. “I’m not putting myself through that again. You can’t save everyone, I’ve learned to accept that. Guess it makes me as depressed as the rest of the Thunderbolts, hmm?” You tried to crack a joke, but your usual laugh and silly expression was missing. He placed a hand on your knee, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Once the two of you had arrived at the Avengers tower you were back in ‘work mode’ rushing Bucky into the building, rolling your eyes at some of the half-assed security measures on the first floor. More specifically the DNA based retina scan you were required to do in order to gain access to the higher levels where everyone lived.

You rushed him into a conference room, muttering a series of curse words that would for sure get you blackballed from politics if they were ever heard aloud. Especially in the context of cursing out other politicians.

Then, you were forcing Bucky into a seat, rolling your eyes at the sight of his appearance, sure he looked good in the leather jacket and fitted t-shirt, but that was the least professional thing he could’ve put on. You wanted to smack him with a book.

You didn’t need to be present for the impeachment proposal, so you gave yourself the hour to breathe. An hour of alone time, spent on the rooftop with your legs hanging over the edge, shoes already off and sitting to your side. At first you opted to put your earbuds in, listening to music as you glanced along the skyline, gaze moving across Manhattan, then you took them out.

Finding comfort in chaos was normal for you. It was easy. It’s the entire reason that you worked so well with the Flag Smashers in the first place—you were the brains they needed, and they were constantly on the move, constantly doing something. They never stood still.

Then, of course, they’d injected you with a super soldier serum against your will, but that was neither here nor there. Some days you missed working with organizations like that,they were fundamentally righteous and overzealous, but the people had passion, they cared. They had a problem and wanted to create their own solution, even if it was extreme.

You’d always wanted to do that, find solutions to the problems in the world. It made slipping into politics easier, especially at Sam’s side, and now at Bucky’s. 

But Bucky Barnes knew how to tick you off. 

Yet even on your shittiest days, he still managed to make you smile. Your fingers gently grazed your lips, as if they could feel the ghost of his against them. 

It was morally wrong for you to want to kiss your boss. Just like it was wrong to want to run your fingers through his hair, to trace his jawline, to feel his back muscles, and to imagine what it would be like to sleep with him beyond the realm of cuddling. Bucky kissing you was like opening Pandora’s box. 

You knew you were attracted to him, and he gave you butterflies from time to time, but now as you thought about him, you were thinking about more than just a simple kiss. 

The sound of your phone’s timer going off caught your attention, knocking you out of your sex-filled thoughts as you got up and slid your shoes back on. 

Once you made it back to the briefing room, he was no longer there, so you opted to look for him without screaming like a maniac. You’d run into Bob, Yelena, and Ava before finally finding him in one of the larger common spaces, now looking at his newest Winter Soldier tactical suit as it was laid out across a table.

“What, you wanna play dress up now?” 

He turned to look at you, shaking his head at the question. “Meeting went well, they asked me one question. I said yes to the trial.” 

You shook your head, cracking a small smile. One of the Texas representatives was going on trial for misconduct and for going against the constitution, he deserved to be impeached in your eyes, and after reading your very irritated notes on the matter, Bucky agreed with you.

“So, care to explain why you’ve got your gear?” 

He shrugged, now looking back at the black suit. “Well, turns out, I’m hanging up the mantle until my term is officially over. Talked it over with Yelena while you were decompressing. Besides, they seem to be doing alright without me all the time.” 

You slowly nodded, brows knit together as you moved to stand beside him, now looking at his suit as well. “That's it then? What if you end up severely out of shape and can’t run a mile?” 

He blinked a few times, shaking his head at the joke, then he lightly elbowed you. “Then I’ll have you to yell at me. Besides, I've already put on some weight.” 

You scoffed at that, responding without even thinking about it. “Barnes, you’ve got the dad bod that makes ovulating women foam out of their mouths. You’ve got that muscular frame that would keep someone warm at night.”

Your eyes widened when you looked up at him, he looked taken aback, lips slightly parted while he processed what you said. Then you had to process what you’d said as well.

“For the record, I mean that in a totally platonic, hype-woman kind of way. Oh and here—I found these, figured you might want them back.” 

He watched as you dug in your pocket, pulling out a thin silver chain, then he noticed the silver tags on them.

You held the necklace up, his military dog tags hanging from it. “Sergeant Barnes, you really should keep an eye on your things. They were in one of my purses. Honestly, not gonna lie, I had them on walking through TSA so I didn’t lose them.” 

He nodded at that, biting his bottom lip at the thought of you in his dog tags with nothing else on.

Then you snapped with your free hand. “Hello? Earth to Barnes? Take your tags. I don’t even know why I had them in the first place. Considering you almost never take them off.” 

He blinked a few times, shaking his head before running his hand through his hair. That brought your eyes to his hair, sure you’d made fun of the mid-length long hair a few times, but with the way his hair was parted down the middle, a bit voluminous, and managed to frame his face perfectly, he looked like prince charming.

If Prince Charming was a half-decent Congressman and former war criminal that managed to irritate you every twenty-seven minutes. 

“Keep them for me.” 

You raised a single brow at that, glancing between the dangling chain in hand and him.“Am I your closet or something?” 

He scoffed at that, shaking his head while placing his hands on his hips, the motion drawing your attention directly to his waist. It was a terrible thing to focus on, not because he was unattractive, but because it reminded you of every inappropriate thought and fantasy that had surfaced on the rooftop earlier.

“No, but consider them a good luck charm, besides, if I had taken them off and left them with you, clearly I trusted you with them. I’d be a liar if I said I remember the exact day that I left them, but I had to have a reason. Now c’mere—” he paused, gently taking the chain from you before facing you fully. 

He took a second to look down at you as you turned to face him. Then, he was slipping the necklace onto you, taking a moment to properly adjust the tags once they were dangling against your chest, the motion making you blush as his hand brushed against your clothed chest.

God, you felt like a bumbling virgin. 

This was his fault, all of it was his fault. If he hadn’t kissed you in the car none of this would be happening, you would’ve been able to keep any and all sexual thoughts about him locked in the deepest pits of your mind. Nothing would’ve changed, or shifted.

Hell, you weren’t even sure if something had shifted or if you were overthinking everything.

You made eye contact with him, getting lost in the ocean blue of his irises.The moment was intimate, too intimate. His tongue grazed his bottom lip as he held eye contact with you, a storm of emotions flowing through his eyes and wrecking his entire being.

Part of him wanted to kiss you again, the other part was afraid that if he did kiss you, you’d up and quit your job.

Bucky knew he needed you in his life. Not just because you helped elevate his political career in every sense, but because you kept him in check. You weren’t just his assistant, you were his friend, and even if he hated to admit it sometimes, he really did appreciate everything that you’d done for him.

The moment was interrupted by a door slamming, both of you jumping apart as you looked towards the far end of the room, Alexei walking in with Yelena in tow, the both arguing over her childhood soccer team’s sponsor once again. When they spotted how close you and Bucky were, they both paused, sharing a look before turning around and leaving the room.

You cleared your throat, glancing down at your watch. 

“I have to uh—shit sorry. I’m a little all over the place today, but I have to make a personal call. You don’t have much else to do today, there’s a few emails I need you to respond to though, and I forwarded you a request for a congressional scholarship. The kid lives in your old neighborhood in Brooklyn, and honestly, it’s a pretty convincing piece. I need your approval before moving forward in that process, lots of paperwork involved.”

You paused, pulling your phone out of your right pocket, glancing down at the screen while reading several text messages and a few subject lines from several emails forwarded to you.

“Turns out I have more than a few emails I need you to read. Oh, and I need to type up an outline for a briefing about the whole space war thing. I’ll forward everything over to you, and can you please,for the love of Christ himself, make sure to actually docusign the pdfs I send? Without your signature there’s no legality.” 

He shook his head, a small smile on his face as he watched you slip right back into ‘work mode’. It was all so natural for you, and your seriousness was adorable. 

“Are you even listening? I need to go call Sam and find out when he’s flying in. He should be here tonight, hopefully sooner than later. Also, Valentina’s been pissing Yelena off with her lawyers. I’ll be dealing with that fiasco today, honestly I’m probably just gonna threaten to blackmail them, works every time.”

“You talk a mile a minute.” 

You raised a brow at him, now looking back at him, slipping your phone back into your pocket. 

“You’re already on thin ice today, Barnes. Don’t start irritating me again. Oh and Mel wants to talk to you.” 

He noticed the shift in your tone at the mention of Valentina’s assistant. If he wasn’t so unsure of his feelings towards you, he would’ve been able to easily identify the jealousy in your voice. But, he was too busy internally debating whether or not kissing you again was a bad idea and simultaneously debating on resigning from his position as a Congressman.

Things would surely be a lot less stressful. 

Then again, you’d probably incinerate him.

“What’s she want to talk about exactly?” 

You simply shrugged, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to remain neutral. “I dunno, maybe call her back and find out, since she won’t tell me directly. She’ll only send me passive aggressive emails and texts about needing to reach you. I don’t even know who the hell gave her my number.”

Your irritation was seeping through, so instead of staying on the subject of Melissa Gold you chose to turn around, heading towards the doors, ready to head to your temporary bedroom (which Yelena said would be your permanent room once you settled into the tower) and work. 

He watched you walk away, eyes trialing your figure, stopping on your ass. Even in the wrinkled slacks it still looked good. Bucky’s head even tilted to the side a bit as your hips moved back and forth, 

“Call me if you need me, Barnes.”You hadn’t even turned back to look at him, then you were gone and he was still staring. 

Sam Wilson arrived at the Avenger’s tower at almost two in the morning. 

Naturally, you were still awake, sitting in an empty living room area.The only light in the room streaming in from the large floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Manhattan’s night-life. The room had a deep blue-ish purple hue to it, a few small golden lights shimmering around, emphasizing items that were plugged in or left out. 

Then there was your laptop screen that illuminated your features as you angrily typed up all of your unorganized committee notes into streamlined documents,not only your boss, but for the rest of his and Sam’s team. 

You recognized the footsteps in the room, three distinct sets, one lighter than the others—Kate’s, one with a bit of a wider stance and a slight sway as if their feet weren’t firmly planted on the floor—Joaquin’s, and finally, one that was louder, steps heavier—Sam’s. 

They hadn’t noticed you at first, not until the lights were turned on. Thankfully they were dim, not the typical bright fluorescents that would have driven you into a state of rage. Then the three of them saw you, seated on the large black sectional, a green knit blanket wrapped around your figure as your computer rested in your lap and one of the side tables had been pulled to your side, covered in files, paperwork, and pens. 

“Jesus kid, late night?” 

You sighed, nodding your head, not even bothering to turn and face Sam.“Working for the U.S. government is exhausting in an inexplicable way. But I’m glad you guys got in safe.”

Sam nodded at that “I’m gonna hit the hay, we’ll debrief in the morning? Actually, maybe in the afternoon. Gives you some time to sleep, I know you’ll be up for a while. Don’t worry about Buck either.”

You finally turned to look at him, a small smile on your face while you nodded at that. “I’d get up to hug you but I’m finally comfortable.” 

Kate laughed at that, moving to the couch, leaning over the back of it, wrapping her arms around your shoulders in a warm embrace. “I missed you! We’ll catch up tomorrow or the day after! But I gotta go find Yel. Pretty sure she waited up for me.” 

You used your right arm to hug her back.“Yeah, she’s on the eighth floor, go down the corridor, last door to the left. She’s most definitely waiting on you, earlier today she was talking Bob’s ear off about you, Bishop.” You both laughed at that, then she kissed the top of your head, a dramatic ‘mwah’ leaving her lips as she gathered her things and left the room.

Sam followed suit, saying his ‘goodnight’s’. It made you contemplate packing things up and trying to head back to sleep.

Truthfully, you’d fallen asleep at around seven, a distinct lack of sleep the night before causing you to crash. But of course, you weren’t able to sleep peacefully through the night, rather you jolted awake in a cold sweat at 11:23pm, eyes wide as you processed the very explicit dream about Bucky. Not only was it explicit, but it left a noticeable damp spot in your panties.

That pissed you off.

The cold shower that followed also ticked you off.

You wanted to stay in your room, however it was too hot in there, and you couldn’t figure out how to work the air conditioner, which led to you migrating to one of the living room-esque common spaces on the floor that held several guestrooms.

It was always cold.

“Well hello to you too!” Joaquin smiled as he rounded the couch, opting to sit right beside you, leaning into your space while he looked at the laptop screen, brows raised at the side-by-side page display showcasing a numerical outline with different bolded headings, subheadings, and specific details regarding each categorized issue. 

“Damn, sometimes I forget how smart you are.” 

You yawned while nodding. “This is literally my own personal hell. I hate organizing my notes, but I can’t just force everyone to read my scribbles. I only force Buck to do that.”

He elbowed you, earning your attention as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down, signature smirk on his face. “So…you call him Buck now I see?” 

You groaned, lightly shoving Joaquin. “Don’t even start! He’s my boss! That’s it.” You felt the heat in your cheeks as you attempted to lie to Joaquin. It didn’t help that the man was one of your closest friends, and could see right through you. He was quick to scoff, lightly elbowing you again, over and over.

“Yeah right, just your boss my ass! That’s like when I said my physical therapist was just my therapist. You’re full of shit and you know it!” 

You sighed, saving the document you were working on before shutting the laptop, placing it on the table in front of you, s.hoving him away to get comfortable again, you now face Joaquin with your legs criss-crossed on the large sofa cushion. “That is not the same thing!”

He nodded his head, scooting back some to face you, the positioning very familiar to you both. When you first started working with Sam, Joaquin had welcomed you with open arms. He hadn’t judged you, not after hearing your story, and after witnessing your peaceful surrender. Well, it was somewhat peaceful, you’d fought Bucky first, eventually managing to take him down—but that wasn’t important.

It was easy to bond with Joaquin, mainly because he never stopped talking. He’d easily gone from being just your co-worker to your friend, and now one of your best friends.

“Uh yes it is, we literally went back and forth for like years. Pretty sure I fell in love with her the moment I laid my eyes on her, then had to do the whole ‘this is strictly professional’ thing forever. Bullshited reasons to be around her, fought with her constantly, but in the end she was right—still is right most of the time, and we’re completely and utterly in love. Plus the sex is great? Wait—have you and him hooked up yet?” 

Your jaw dropped, eyes wide as shock painted your features. Then you were leaning towards him, smacking him on the bicep a few times.“Hell no! Once again he’s my literal boss. What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

Joaquin raised a single brow at that. “So something did happen. Your left eye twitched a little! What aren’t you telling me? Wait, are you still jealous of that other assistant that he talks to sometimes?”

You smacked him again.“Joaquin Torres, keep your freaking voice down! Jesus! And no I’m not jealous of Mel. What’s there to be jealous of?!” You were being too defensive, and your voice had gone up an octave.

“Stop bullshitting me! You’re so into him and you hate how caring he sounds when he talks to her, or do I need to pull the series of spam texts you sent me telling me how much you hated her and hated him. Or the drunken voicemail?” He held his phone up, staring at you while your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.“Now, tell me what happened between the both of you!”

You sighed, nodding your head, running a hand over your face before giving in and divulging him on everything that had gone on in the past forty-eight hours. Even letting him know about the car kiss, followed by the sexual tension that you knew was obvious, and finally, the most embarrassing detail being your wet dream about him.

Of course you didn’t go into detail about the dream.

“Damn, you’re more whipped than I am, and I’m in an actual relationship.” That earned another smack. “Hey! Okay, shit! Stop hitting me woman! Wait—what’s that—” he pointed to his neck, then to yours.

Your eyes widened as you reached a hand up, the blanket had fallen off of one of your shoulders, exposing the loose U Miami crewneck that you had on, except you’d cut the neckline so it sat off of your shoulder. It hadn’t occurred to you that you still had Bucky’s dog tags on. Then you felt around your neck and upper chest, hands finally grasping the tags.

“No way in hell he gave you those and you’re ‘strictly professional’.” He spoke with air quotations while watching you grasp the tags in one hand. “Yeah, that’s definitely your man, are you kidding me? The only person I’d ever trust with my tags is my girl. Here's some advice though, when you two finally go at it, and you’re on top of him make sure they’re in his fac-” 

He was hit in the face by a throw pillow. 

The two of you spent the next hour and a half talking. Joaquin kept trying to convince you that you were clearly in love with Bucky and vice versa. Meanwhile, you argued the entire time, and tried to turn the subject towards anything else.Eventually, the both of you settled on his current relationship, and it was nice to see him gush over his physical therapist turned girlfriend. 

You even told him that you were proud he’d managed to find someone who loved that he never shut up, the two of you in a fit of laughter after that.

The next afternoon had passed by fairly quickly, mostly because you were extremely busy.

You’d barely seen Bucky, only speaking with him during your debrief on the current galactic issues, but that hour and a half was mostly focused on answering Yelena and Sam’s questions based on the information provided by the U.S. government.

Sure, some of it was technically top secret, but you all technically were employed by the government, and did also hold the security clearance to know about the ongoing monitoring. 

He wasn’t in a suit again and you weren’t in your heels. Actually, you’d foregone any professional attire. It was a rare sight for everyone to see you in a t-shirt and sweats, not to mention the white fuzzy slippers. Your hair was pulled into two braids and you lacked any makeup, even wearing your prescription glasses that you usually left at home.

Bucky didn’t focus on a single thing you said during the briefing. His gaze was fixated on you and all he could think about was how comfortable and casual you looked, and that flooded his mind with domestic fantasies about you. Said fantasies almost spiraled into the thought of you with a ring on your left hand, a round belly, and a baby on your hip with eyes as blue as the clear sky.

He had to snap himself out of it several times. The fantasy was just that, a fantasy. You were still his assistant, and you’d already made it plenty clear that you were not interested in any semblance of a romantic relationship with him. Things were strictly professional, and once his term was over, you’d go your separate ways.

You’d practically sprinted out of the conference room once the hour and a half had passed, and he knew you were supposed to be helping in preparations for the fundraiser with Sam and Joaquin. He didn’t care that you and Joaquin were ‘just friends’, the thought of you spending your time with him irritated Bucky in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

By the time the fundraiser itself was starting, you were nowhere to be found and he was stuck making small talk with local politicians. Most of what they discussed surrounded Bucky’s future plans once the term had settled, he’d made a few comments about running for re-election and being an Avenger, stating that it might clash, doing his best to warm people up to the idea of him having to choose one over the other.

It was an obvious choice for him.

Well obvious outside of the fact that if he chose to be an Avenger, he might lose you, but then again, you were also technically an Avenger, whether you liked it or not. You’d been there that day in Manhattan, you were in the void, and you were at the conference, standing right beside him.

Then Mel had finally tracked him down, pulling him into a more secluded area, showing him a series of top-secret footage that Valentina had been trying to fully erase regarding the Sentry project. She was giving him useful information that would not only help Bob better understand who and what he was, but information that could be leveraged over Valentina if needed.

It was classic blackmail, something that you often shrugged off. It wasn’t that you were blackmailing people all the time, but you said it was part of politics, and he fully allowed you to do whatever you wanted. He trusted you to make the right decisions for both of your careers, and time and time again, you did.

“Oh, hey Y/n, you look beautiful tonight!” Mel’s chipper voice irritated you. 

You’d stumbled across them accidentally. You’d been looking for Sam, and instead you managed to find Mel and Bucky, leaning close together, in a quiet dimly lit area. You could clearly see the phone in her hand that she was showing to him, but she was too close to Bucky.

He turned away from Mel, gaze now on you, his brows raised a bit while his lips parted, eyes practically burning a hole into you while he took in every inch of your appearance from head to toe.

Your hair was voluminous and clearly curled, the now loose-waves framing your face perfectly and cascading along your shoulders and back. Your makeup was minimal, almost identical to your typical look, except your lips were a deep crimson and your waterline was emphasized with a black smoked-out eyeshadow look (courtesy of Yelena).

He bit his bottom lip while taking in your dress, the black silk practically hugging all of your curves perfectly. The swoop neckline leaving little to the imagination, and you had on his dog tags, the lengthy chain disappearing into your obvious cleavage, tags clearly in the valley between your tits.

You had on your heels again, black pointed toe stilettos with some golden designer logo for the heel. He didn’t care about the designers, all Bucky cared about in this exact moment was controlling himself. If Mel hadn’t been there he would’ve had you pinned against the wall with his lips on yours already. 

“Thanks Mel. Barnes, I’ve been looking for you” 

He slowly nodded, unsure of what to say, too focused on what not to say.

You were quick to grab Bucky’s forearm, pulling him in your direction before offering Mel a forced smile. “Mind if I borrow him? Got a few things to go over.” She nodded, giving you a tight lipped smile as you made eye contact. Then, you were dragging Bucky away from her, rolling your eyes the second you knew she couldn’t see you anymore.

“So what exactly do we need to talk about?” 

You shrugged at the question, finally letting go of his arm, then facing him.“Some district court judge told me that you’re debating on running for re-election and fully committing to the Avengers? The hell is that about?” 

You honestly didn’t care, but it was the easiest thing to come up with.

He wondered if you were jealous, but maybe he was reading too much into the situation. Usually you’d know that he was bullshitting, most of your job involved calling him on his bullshit, there was no way in hell Bucky was running for re-election.

“Gotta warm them up to the idea, you’re always saying it’s important to ease people into dramatic changes aren’t you?” he put his hands in his pants pockets, raising his brows while he waited on a response. 

“Okay…that’s actually a good point. I dunno, I just had to double check that with you. Sorry for pulling you away from Mel, feel free to go talk with her.” Then you spun around, heading in the opposite direction. 

Bucky knew you were jealous. That confirmed it. He wasn’t losing it, you were one hundred percent jealous of Mel and he had no idea why, anyone with a pair of eyes would know that he wasn’t remotely interested in the woman romantically. 

Sure Mel was pretty, but she wasn’t you. 

The open bar was a bad idea.

Two hours had passed since then, and you’d managed to do all of your networking within the first half hour. Kate and Yelena had peer pressured you into getting a drink, and one drink quickly turned into two, then three, then Joaquin was bringing you a drink, and it spiraled from there.

It took a lot to get you drunk. The whole ‘super soldier serum’ issue made your metabolism much, much faster. At the rate that you were drinking, any normal person would’ve needed their stomach pumped at the emergency room. But you weren’t a normal person, not anymore at least.

You were one hundred percent drunk. There wasn’t any debate on the matter.

Which led you to being a lot friendlier than usual, laughing and flirting with other guests, a playful aura to you while you mixed and mingled with everyone.

It wasn’t until you were laughing with Joaquin, head leaning against his shoulder while you sat near the bar, talking about his girlfriend, that Bucky had finally found you.

He knew that you were networking, what he didn’t know was that you’d been drinking. 

Then again, he’d also been drinking, and the typical spark of jealousy he felt when you mentioned Joaquin was now a raging forest fire as he took in the sight of you leaning into Joaquin, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, both of you smiling and laughing at something that Kate had said. 

Joaquin nudged you a bit, earning your full attention, a hazy smile on your face while you moved to look at him. His brows were knit together as he tried to look serious.“Your boyfriend is staring us down.” 

You blinked a few times, now glancing across the room, eyes scanning the crowd of people, only to land on Bucky who held a champagne glass in-hand while he stood in a group of four men, all of them clearly in a conversation. Except now his attention was fully on you, holding eye contact.

“Please, if he was my boyfriend we’d be having freaky sex all the time.” You both bursted into another fit of laughter, your gaze now on Joaquin, then on Kate who looked absolutely shocked.

“Wait?! What! You and Bucky?!” 

You shrugged, then shook your head at her. “There is no me and Bucky! He’s my boss who’s bones I can’t jump!” 

She laughed at that, shaking her head while sipping her long island.“Why can’t you do that again? I know he’s like technically your boss, but that man wants you girl, like, he’s always eye-fucking you. I think he’s eye-fucking you now not gonna lie.” She looked over at him, and you mirrored her.

His eyes met yours again. He didn’t care what you were talking about, nor did he care what the men around him were speaking about. The topic having gone in one ear and out of the other. 

Bucky Barnes’ sole focus was now on you.

You and that black satin dress that would look so much better on the floor.

You who sat smiling and laughing with Joaquin Torres. 

Bucky was beyond jealous, the liquor flowing through his veins easily letting his composure slip. He swore that if he watched you lean any closer to Joaquin that he’d storm over there and throw you over his shoulder.

Then you did just that, laughing again and rolling your head forward a bit, forehead resting in the crook of Joaquin’s neck while your body shook with laughter.

Bucky easily excused himself, mumbling something about having to speak with his assistant, which earned a few wolf whistles when the men noticed you across the room. Specifically, they noticed the way you sat up now, two hands on the front of your dress, grasping the fabric and adjusting it slightly-your very present cleavage now a bit more tamed.

It had taken him exactly forty-five seconds to get to you.

Joaquin noticed him first, slipping his arm away from you, offering Bucky a tight-lipped smile.

Then you made eye contact with Bucky again, his typical icey-blue eyes were a few shades darker, pupils a bit dilated while he looked directly at you.

“So, you’ve been drinking on the job I see?” His tone was laced in venom, your brows knit together at the harshness of it, sitting up a bit straighter, glancing at Kate, then Joaquin, just to make sure you weren’t losing your mind. They both gave a subtle nod, then you were standing up and grabbing Bucky’s right arm, pulling him with you.

He let you guide him, then you two were in a crowded hallway, taking a left turn, then a right, then finding the elevator that would lead you directly to your designated floor.

“What’s your problem, Barnes?” 

He scoffed at that.“Let’s see, my assistants drunk, not working. I’d say that’s enough of a reason to be irritated.” 

You blinked a few times, looking around as if you were on the Truman show, or maybe this was an episode of Punk’d and Ashton Kutcher would jump out at you.“Everyone’s drunk, what's the issue? It’s a charity fundraiser, we raised like ten million tonight. Can I not celebrate?! I’ve done my job for the night, I just want to spend the rest of it as me—not your fucking assistant.” 

You were getting loud now, angrily pressing the elevator button, a surprised gasp when the doors immediately opened. Then without any hesitation you walked right in, leaving him in the hallway. 

Bucky wasn’t having it, not tonight.

He followed right behind you. “You’ve never had an issue with being my fucking assistant before. It’s always about professionalism with you! Boundaries and shit like that!” 

You rolled your eyes again, hitting the button for your floor while shaking your head.“Because professionalism is important! We all can’t be you, Bucky! Not all of us can be America’s fucking sweetheart!” You didn’t even look at him as you shouted, gaze focused on the small digital screen above the elevator doors, the red numbers switching as the elevator ascended into the higher levels of the tower.

Then it stopped on your floor, and you were shoving past him, shoulder checking him while storming towards your room.

“Seriously?! That’s it, just gonna run away? What, suddenly all that bullshit about communication doesn’t matter?!” He ran a hand through his hair as he yelled after you, hot on your heels.

You turned on your heel, brows knit together as you stared at him, only a few feet from your room.“What the hell is the real reason you’re being a massive asshole tonight?! I know it’s not because I’ve been drinking. I’m a grown ass woman, Bucky! I’m not some little kid you get to yell at and fucking criticize and treat like shit! Or like a personal punching ba-” 

His lips were on yours. You hadn’t registered how close he actually was to you. He had a hand on your forearm, pulling you flush against his chest as he collided his lips against yours. 

Your hands were immediately on him, one hand grasping his suit, the other in his hair.

Then he was backing you up into the wall, his left hand on your jaw—holding you in place. You whimpered at the feeling, not because it bothered you, but because his vibranium hand was cold, a shock against your warm flushed skin. Bucky’s lips led yours, his head slightly tilting, giving himself the opportunity to get even closer to you, his hair brushing against your face.

His lips were soft, he tasted like champagne and mint with a hint of tobacco. 

It was almost soothing, but it also made you feel hazy.

Instead of asking for entrance, he pressed his thumb against your chin below your bottom lip, applying minimal pressure as he tugged in a downward motion. 

You easily parted your lips, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss while he swallowed your soft whimpers. 

It didn’t help that one of his thighs was directly between yours, pinning you against the wall. He felt your thighs clench around his, pulling back slightly, heavy breaths hitting your parted lips.

“Tell me to stop and I will—I swear.” He brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, thankful that the Wakandan technology in his arm and shoulder actually allowed him to have a sense of feeling. It hadn’t mattered to him before this moment, watching as you looked up at him, feeling your soft, swollen, and spit-slick lip. 

“What if I don’t want you to stop,” your words were quiet while you looked at him, hand grasping against his suit even tighter. The hand that had been in his hair now slowly grazing against his cheek, fingers moving to his jawline, tracing the sharp ridges before sliding down his throat.

“Y’can’t say shit like that to me Sweetheart—makes me think you care.” He let out a deep sigh, eyes moving from yours down to your lips again.

“James, I do care.” You’d said his name so tenderly, so lovingly. Then you leaned into him, now kissing him first, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

Both of his hands now on your waist, your bodies flush against one another while your lips move in sync. The kiss should’ve been angrier, should’ve had more teeth, but it was surprisingly soft, sweet, and even slow. He kissed you with passion and hunger, as if he wanted to leave the imprint of his lips against yours. 

You grinding yourself against his thigh had the both of you breaking apart, gasping for air, then he took a singular step back, doing a short half-squat, hands on the backs of your thighs before he scooped you up, holding you against his waist, lips back on yours as you locked your legs around his waist, hands in his hair.

The next few minutes involved more kissing and fumbling through your bedroom door. He kicked it shut before pressing you against it, lips moving from your own, to your jaw, planting open-mouthed wet kisses along your soft skin. 

Your entire body was on fire, and truthfully, you’d never been hornier. 

“Buck—as much as I want to go slow with you—I need you to fuck me.”

He laughed against your skin, teeth nipping a mark in the crook of your neck, earning a whimper. Then he licked a flat stripe along your pulse point, making you shiver.

“You’re always so mean and demanding, now you’re needy? C’mon, Sweetheart, you’ve gotta throw an old dog a bone.” His tone was so flirty, voice gruff and deep as he spoke between kisses. His hands sliding from your upper thighs to your ass, using his lower body to help stabilize you.

Then he was moving one hand, slipping it between your legs, below your bunched up gown. His rough fingertips moved against your inner thighs as he sucked on your pulsepoint. Then his fingers paused, lightly brushing against your clothed core, the motion making you whine, your hands tugging on his hair while he remained still.

“Ask nicely, baby.” He smirked against your skin.

You groaned, now looking at him, tugging harshly on his hair, practically ripping him away from your throat so you could look at him. Holding eye contact as you spoke. “Please fuck me, with your fingers, your tongue, your cock—I don’t give a shit—just please fucking fuck me.” 

He bit his bottom lip, still smirking at your request, then his fingers were gliding along the damp fabric of your panties, up and down—over and over again. Bucky was clearly teasing you, and it was driving you insane. But he caved when you moaned his name—not Bucky—no you moaned a low pitched ‘James-please’.

Bucky didn’t let anyone call him James, you were the only one that had ever really used his first name and usually it was on rare occasions, but clearly the liquid confidence and horniness brought out a different side of you. 

His hand slipped below your panties, finding your slick folds, two thick fingers teasing you, sliding along your cunt, spreading your wetness from your sopping hole to your sensitive clit, then back down again. The sounds of your moans were music to his ears, that in combination with your hands tugging at his hair and your hips grinding against his hand was sending him into overdrive.

Eventually he stopped teasing you, lips back on your own, swallowing your moans while his fingers rapidly fucked into you, two thick digits stretching you perfectly, the feeling had your toes curling, one of your heels already on the floor behind him. It wasn’t long until you were kicking the other one off as well.

You were rolling your hips into his hand, whimpering his name like a prayer while his fingers curled inside of you, reaching the spot that usually made you see stars. A spot that you could never quite hit on your own, meanwhile it took Bucky little to no effort to get to it. 

“Just like that Sweetheart, c’mon give it to me, I deserve it.” His voice was deeper than usual as he spoke.

You nodded desperately, back arching while your head leaned against the wall, loudly whining as your orgasm crashed through your body, all of your nerve endings practically on fire.

“That’s it baby, gonna have you creaming on my cock next.” He went back to kissing along your throat and any exposed skin he had access to, fingers still fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm and ushering in a wave of oversensitivity.

“Fuck me, please,” your breathy words were quieter than usual as you looked at him, one hand toying with the hair closest to the base of his neck, the other gripping his suit again. 

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, in seconds you were laying flat on your bed as he unbuttoned his jacket, tossing it aside, then undid the buttons of his shirt. Your stare was driving him mad.

Then you were sitting up, now standing right in front of him, taking a moment to appreciate your height difference before shoving him onto the bed. He looked shocked at the motion, blinking a few times as he watched you slip out of the dress, the black fabric now nothing more than a pile at your feet. 

His eyes trailed your figure, practically memorizing every single detail of your bare body. 

The moment was much more intimate than either of you had expected.

Well, until you were practically climbing on top of him, straddling his waist and pulling him into a sloppy drunk kiss. This time it was all teeth and tongue, your mind already hazy enough from the first orgasm and all hesitation had been thrown away. Your hands were all over him, sliding along his bare chest, feeling the faint definitions of muscle along his abdomen.

He let out a strangled moan the second your hand moved into his pants, now palming his thick cock for a few seconds before sliding it out of his pants. His hips instinctively bucked into your hand, and for a second you debated on taking his girthy length down your throat.

“Fuck-don’t even try it-need to be inside you.” His words were strained, pulling away from the kiss slightly as you pumped your hand on his shaft, thumb spreading the beads of precum around his tip, smiling against his lips while he moaned.

Then you were pulling away, biting his bottom lip and tugging at it. “But I wanna taste you.” You trailed your tongue along his jaw before lightly biting against it, then trailing kisses down his throat. 

He watched as you kissed along his exposed chest and abdomen, eventually slotting yourself between his thighs. You were going to be the death of him, his eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of you arching your back, ass in the air, face inches from his throbbing cock. 

You spit on it, biting your bottom lip as you used both of your hands to jerk him off, moving in a twisting motion, spreading the mixture of your saliva and his precum along his veiny cock. 

“You’re so big Buck—or would you prefer Congressman? Since you want me to be your little secretary forever.” 

He moaned, running a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath and control himself. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, and at this rate, he was about to cum all over your face if you kept your mean facade up.

“Can’t wait to feel you inside of me Congressman Barnes.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, how you managed to sound so demeaning while fisting his cock was beyond his comprehension. He let out a choked moan the second your mouth wrapped around the flushed red head of his cock.

Then you were moaning around him, taking more and more of him into your warm, wet mouth. His metal hand was now in your hair, grasping the frizzy strands, pulling them away from your face as you hollowed your cheeks in and started to bob your head—only really taking half of him at once.

Your tongue swirled around his cock as you sucked him off, moaning at the saltiness of his precum coating your tongue. This was downright sinful, and it was everything you’d wanted over the past few months. When you finally decided to take him out of your mouth, you laughed, smiling as you caught your breath, a string of spit connecting his cock to your lips.

The sight had him moaning your name like a prayer.

“Shit baby—fuck you gotta stop ‘m gonna cum.” 

You bite your swollen bottom lip, looking up at him through your lashes for a few seconds. Then you were pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, using the head to spread his precum along your lips before wrapping your lips back around it. One hand slowly moving along his thick shaft while you focused on the most sensitive part of his cock.

The way he was pulling your hair burned in the best way, the sting from your scalp plus the taste of his cock had you moaning and whimpering against him.

“Shit—fuck—oh shit, Sweetheart.” He was practically whimpering as he came, cum coating your tongue and mouth, and you swallowed, then moved back, now sticking your tongue out, jacking him off with one hand as thick ropes of cum shot from his cock onto your tongue. A few missing slightly, painting parts of your face.

This was downright sinful. Sure Bucky knew that if Heaven truly did exist then he’d most certainly be going to Hell, but this? This earned him a spot in the deepest layer of Hell.

He moaned your name as he came, watching as you drunkenly giggled and let him give you a partial facial. This was straight out of a porno, if you were a pornstar he wouldn’t be surprised.

You smiled at him, taking your thumbs and index fingers, dragging them along your cum-stained face, gathering his spend before licking it off, one by one. 

He’d sat up so fast he hadn’t registered it, not until he was pulling you further into his lap, his metal hand squishing the bottom of your face slightly as he grasped your chin, pulling you into a rough, sloppy kiss. 

“You’re fuckin filthy,” he spoke against your lips, hand now on your throat, the cold vibranium a stark contrast to your warm skin. It made your head fuzzy. 

One thing Bucky was thankful for was his stamina, he’d always had pretty good stamina, but post-serum some days he felt like he could fuck for hours on end.

He hadn’t registered your movement until your hand was grasping the base of his cock and you were easing yourself onto him, gasping against his lips. He bit down on your bottom lip, and he knew he’d broken a bit of the skin based on the taste of iron in his mouth. But you were so tight around him, if he hadn’t been drunk before, he sure as hell was now.

“F-fuck ‘ts so big,” your words had a slight slur to them as you sat flush against him, forehead now leaning against his shoulder while you let yourself adjust to his sheer size. After a few seconds you started grinding your hips on him, back and forth, whimpering against his skin.

“C’mon, Sweetheart, I know you can do better than that.” His hands were on your waist now, loosely holding you, slowly guiding your movements, helping you build a rhythm.

You nodded, now sitting up a bit straighter, slowly pulling your hips off of him, then sliding back, taking each inch of his cock until you were filled to the brim. 

He bit his bottom lip as he looked at you, then he was nipping and sucking marks into your chest, focusing on each of your tits as they started to move more and more the faster you bounced on his cock.

“Just like that, keep going baby, know you can take it.” 

You nodded, your head leaning back slightly as you placed your hands on his thighs, back arching even more, using his body for leverage to help ground yourself and build your pace. 

The mixture of your moans practically echoed off of the walls, alongside the sloshing wetness of your cunt and the sound of skin slapping as you continued to take his cock. All you could focus on was the feeling of his thick shaft deep inside of you, stretching you deliciously, and the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, not exactly bruising, but the pressure added another level to your pleasure that you hadn’t experienced in the past.

His lips were parted as he held onto your waist, hands moving down to your hips, fingers bruisingly tight as he kept your movements up, not letting you falter for even a second. Bucky’s eyes focused on your cunt taking him, a ring of your wetness evident on his girthy length each time you moved up, then slammed your hips back down.

It had him salivating. 

Bucky’s eyes were stuck on you, fixated on your every movement, but what really got to him was the sight of you in his tags, the thin metal moving with you, and in this exact moment he knew you were it for him.

“You’re so fuckin beautiful,” his voice was gruff and strained while, he felt himself teetering closer and closer to the edge, meanwhile you were lost in your own world of pleasure, taking everything you could from him—using him.

It made him delirious in a way he couldn’t describe.

“‘M gonna cum-fuck Bucky—oh my god-” you moaned and whimpered, words coming out as a high pitched whine. Your rhythm was faltering, but he kept you moving, your hands now leaving his thighs, instead they were overtop his own that were holding your hips. Your fingers gripped his hands, nails practically digging into his skin as you moaned his name.

“Bucky…Bucky…oh shit…Bucky!”

It was music to his ears. Then he felt you fluttering against him, clenching down on his cock, tight walls practically milking him as you gushed against him. Your body trembling slightly, still moaning a mixture between his name and curse words.

Then you said it, “Oh fuck—right there—James!” 

That’s all it took for him to let out a deep, guttural moan, your name slipping past his lips as he came. Warmth spilling inside of you, as he bucked his hips into you a few times, losing himself in the moment.

You both sat in a breathy silence for several minutes after. You didn’t even bother getting off of him, instead you shoved his upper body down onto the bed and laid right on top of him. You weren’t ready to leave and let the fantasy shatter. Not yet at least.

He traced small shapes into your back as you laid against him, your head resting against the right side of his chest, your fingers slowly gliding along the ridges of his arm, then you paused before hesitantly moving to the scars along his left shoulder leading into his arm. You always knew they were there, but you hadn’t ever seen them up close. 

“Did you do this to yourself?” your voice was quiet and soft, much softer than usual.

“I think so, it was so long ago, it’s all kind of fuzzy. I think I tried ripping the metal out, or digging it out of my skin. I wanted to read the records on it—on me. But I never could bring myself to do it” He let out a deep sigh at the vague memories, but before he started mentally spiraling, you moved again, this time leaving a soft kiss to his jaw.

“I’m sorry that you were put through hell and back Bucky.” 

“Don’t be sorry, I wouldn't have met you if that hadn’t happened to me.”

You didn’t respond, the intimacy of the moment finally getting to you, especially considering his cock was still inside of you. So you moved off of him, wincing at the soreness of it all. Then you were practically sprinting to your ensuite. 

He thought you’d be kicking him out, so he opted to start getting up, but when you walked out of the bathroom, hands now on your hips with an oversized grey t-shirt that read ‘ARMY’, he blinked a few times.

“Where the hell did you get my shirt?”

You shrugged, glancing down at the shirt. It had to be one of the few shirts he owned that wasn’t fitted. Honestly, you don’t remember when or where you’d gotten it, but it was most likely something that Sam had given you after a long night of sparring.

“Why are you getting dressed?” The question sounded almost meek, you internally cringed at how clingy it made you feel. If he wanted to leave, he could leave. It would hurt your feelings, but this wasn’t your boyfriend. Bucky was your boss, and you’d be internally scolding yourself for the next week about tonight.

“Uh, I assumed you wanted me to go,” he motioned towards the door.

“Don’t be an asshole and just ditch me after you fucked me.” 

His jaw dropped at your words, brows now knit together, head tilted slightly. “Don’t make it sound like this was more than just sex, Sweetheart.” Bucky knew he was being a bit harsh, but he had to keep his heart guarded, the risk of you completely rejecting him was still there, and he knew he couldn’t handle that tonight. 

You scoffed at that, arms now crossed in front of your chest as you glared at him. “Excuse me? Are you serious right now?! It’s not like I blatantly admitted to caring about you before you damn near fucked me in the hallway!” You were louder than expected, practically screaming at him. Anger coursing through your veins as you stared at him.

“You’re the one who always wants to be professional! Then you get drunk and things are different! What happens when you’re—when we’re sober! Then what?” He ran a hand through his hair, holding eye contact with you as his breathing picked up. Bucky braced himself for rejection. At least if you rejected him, he’d finally be able to move on—or that’s what he told himself.

Bucky knew for a fact he’d never be over you. Not while you worked for him, and even after his term as a Congressman ended, he knew he’d never be rid of his feelings for you.

You were a once in a lifetime kind of love, that much he knew. Anytime someone spoke about the love of their life with him, they’d ask if he knew what it felt like. If he knew what it was like to care so deeply for someone that none of their flaws mattered. It didn’t matter how angry you made him, or how annoying you could be, James Buchanan Barnes would forever be in love with you.

You’re the first woman that he’d met that had pissed him off within seconds of speaking to one another. Bucky would never forget the day that the two of you met for four distinct reasons:

The first being the long-winded chase that he and Sam had been on in attempts to takedown the Flag Smashers. They’d bickered the entire time, but it ultimately brought them much closer, to the point that Sam was family now. It also helped that they shared an equal dislike for John Walker, but that wasn’t relevant.

The second major reason was because the second he’d spotted you, he was taken aback, you stood beside Karli, attempting to calm her down, but it wasn’t working. Then you were arguing with her, and all he’d managed to catch on to was the fact that you knew Sam was right. He also realized how smart you were in that exact moment.

The third reason that he’d never forget that day—outside of you being incredibly beautiful—was the feeling of your fists colliding directly with his ribcage, followed by a swift kick to the gut that had him on his back. He tried to keep up with you, but he’d been a bit out of practice and with his ongoing struggle of making amends, the last thing he wanted to do was fight a woman he was eighty years older than.

The fourth and final reason though, was the blurry sight of you squatting next to him, asking if he was alright and apologizing profusely for knocking him to the ground. You’d grasped his face, taking in the damage, grimacing at the sight of his bruised and bloody features. You then proceeded to clean him up, calling him an ‘idiot’ for not properly fighting back.

Bucky stared directly at you, his brooding silence made your eyes water. Maybe this was it, maybe he really didn’t care as much as he let on.

That pushed you over the edge.

“I had to be fucking professional Buck! I’m so sorry that I have a job, and ambitions for a career that I don’t even think I want anymore! I’m sorry that I didn’t want to be known as the girl that fucked her way up!” Your voice was loud as you shouted at him, your voice started cracking and the tears started falling. You were quick to wipe them away, chest rapidly rising and falling as you shook your head.

“You don’t get it, Sweetheart. I know you have ambitions, I know you have goals, but I’ve spent the past year and a half swallowing my own goddamn feelings for you! I know you don’t want to be the girl that sleeps with her boss! God damnit for once—for once I just thought that tonight we could be us. Not a congressman, not a secretary, just two fucking idiots in love!” 

He was yelling back now, running both hands through his hair as he looked at you. The sight of you in tears had his heart breaking, he wanted to kick his own ass for making you cry. 

“Then why are you trying to leave?” You sounded so small, so weak. Then you looked down at the ground, avoiding his stare. You’d always struggled with vulnerability, and right now you felt as if you were about to explode.

You were so focused on the ground and tuning everything out that you hadn’t noticed him getting off of the bed and walking towards you. Not until he nudged your foot with his, even then you didn’t look at him, shaking your head a bit. “This is embarrassing, just go Bucky.”

“I need you to look at me, Sweetheart.” He was looking directly at you, ready to pour his heart out.

You slowly lifted your head, cringing at the closeness and intimacy.

He took a second to use his right hand to brush some of your tears away, now caressing the side of your face. “I don’t want to leave. I thought you’d want me out, thought this was a one night stand, never speak about it again, or as you would say ‘never circle back to this’ again.” 

Bucky tried not to laugh at you clenching your jaw, clearly cringing at your own words being used against you.

“Tonight we’re just us. You’re y/n and I’m Bucky. You’re not my secretary, I’m not your boss. We’re friends, hell we’re way more than friends. Tomorrow we can figure out the logistics of it all, but tonight—tonight I’m telling you that I’m so desperately in love with you that I go to sleep dreaming of you and wake up missing you.” 

He paused, thumb caressing your bottom lip slightly, running along the evident split he’d caused. 

“Everytime I see you with another guy I feel like I’m about to implode. That includes Joaquin and I know you feel the same way, I saw how you got with Mel. You make me crazy in the best way. I’ve never felt like this about anyone in my life—and don’t even think about interrupting me to call me an old man. I love you. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the moment you called me an idiot after kicking my ass in Germany. I loved you when Sam sent your reluctant ass to be my secretary. I love you every second of every day and I don’t care about being professional or being anything other than yours. I’m yours.”

You blinked a few times, astonished at the confession, lips slightly parted as you looked up at him. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. 

“You don’t have to feel the same way either, it won’t change anything. You’ll still be my mean, bossy, and obnoxious secretary tomorrow, and I’ll be your idiot boss that hates answering questions.”

That made you laugh, shaking your head and rolling your teary eyes. “If I’m being honest, I don’t want to be your secretary anymore—it’s not professional to be in love with your boss.”

He smiled at that, leaning into your space, connecting his lips with yours. The kiss was soft, sweet, and full of love. 

The next morning the sunlight streaming through your windows woke the both of you up, you rolled into his space, trying to bury your head on his chest, using an arm to block the sunlight. Your entire body was sore and your head was pounding.

“Morning, sunshine.” 

You blinked a few times, eyes widening at the realization that you were in bed with Bucky, the moment of shock easily wearing away at the memories of the night prior flooding in. Then you were picking your head up slightly, glancing at Bucky as he squinted, eyes adjusting to the bright light in the room before landing on you.

“I had a dream last night that would solve your professionalism debacle.” His voice was raspy and deep, it made you blush.

You nodded at him, “Okay, let’s hear it Buck.”

“You don’t need to be a Congressman’s secretary if you’re his wife.”

-

Thanks for reading sexies <3 as always feedback is appreciated!

[cosmickid-inmotion]

The Ghost of You

Banner by my dear @commonmisery

Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader

TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!

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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?

Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.

A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content

This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship

Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph

8.5 words

It was cold. That was annoying. How you’d wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, you’ll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.

You’d arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying she’d be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. You’d get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.

That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didn’t recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door. 

“It’s been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-”

“You don’t know shit!”

“Excuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!”

“Don’t you bring him into this. Don’t fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.”

A beat of silence. “You had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommy… Jackson is growing. We need the space-”

“You never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet you’re glad-”

The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the man’s temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.

“Settle down there, cowboy. Ain’t nice to yell at a lady.”

*

The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didn’t go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasn’t a threat.

After Tommy left with a pointed ‘fuck you’ in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes. 

“He’s a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just gets… well, there’s some sore spots. C’mon let’s get you home. I bet you’re tired.”

Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50’s maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadn’t even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you. 

The house was pretty empty. You’d been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family. 

The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and you’d been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.

In bed that night, that’s when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didn’t expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since it’s on springs, the latch must’ve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.

It didn’t linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your face… but you weren’t scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.

It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didn’t take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something you’d always been open to, but the question was who.

That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, you’d been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.

“I don’t like it there.” You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.

They moved it again.

“Come on, you’re being annoying.” You move, just for it to get moved back again.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.” No response, no movement. “Dick.” A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.

You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that must’ve not been cleaned. 

Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved to  “yes” when asked if they were a man.

“How old are you? Or- were you?”

5. 6.

“Old man.” You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. You’d learned this was his way of teasing.

“How did you die?”

D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g

“Don’t go golfing? What does that mean?”

No response.

“Was that a joke?”

Yes.

“Well, I don’t get it. You know that, right?”

Yes.

“Fine, don’t wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard it’s not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?”

2

“Go on.”

2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… where is the other?”

I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w

“Shit, i’m sorry about that too. Must be confusing.” Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. “Is your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?”

e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k

That broke your heart. “Must be scary.”

Yes

Then, the string moved again.

N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c

a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u

For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didn’t like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldn’t say his name.

But it was the first time you’d been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much. 

Even after you began working, every evening you’d run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.

“Don’t see much of you.” The doctor commented. “You adjusting okay? I know it’s a lot to get used to.”

You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didn’t get to know anyone… but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didn’t want to get close, that’s all. People died, you’d learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.

But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.

“Jesus! I’m going I’m going!” You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, you’re face to face with the fridge.

“If this is a fat joke- hey!” Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. “Okay, tell me what you want!” A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30’s, maybe 40’s if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.

“Is this you?”

The picture ruffled in your hand. 

“And the girl, that your daughter?”

The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long ago… you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.

“It’s so cute…” You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. You’d never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.

At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didn’t really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJ’s. 

You’d be lying if you hadn’t touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beard…

“Are you watching me?” You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didn’t really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.

A pause.

Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.

“Good.” You assure him, hoping he stays. “Want you to watch.” Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how he’d touch you-

“You can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.” It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirty… but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.

Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you. 

“You can kiss me. It’s okay.” It wasn’t as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.

“Wish you were here….” You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. “Never connected to anyone the way I have you.” A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldn’t do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum-”

Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.

“Joel.”

His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.

*

After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldn’t really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.

“Beautiful.” He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.

He thought you were beautiful when you came.

There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didn’t want to be away.

Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldn’t help laugh as he managed to speak “More seasoning” and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.

“You can just make it next time!”

You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.

“Tommy.”

Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didn’t answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.

When you answered, you would have shut the door if you weren’t curious about Joel’s reaction.

There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, that’s right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. “Can I talk t’yuh?”

You narrow your eyes. “Sorry, but the last time we spoke you weren’t exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time I’ve seen you, you give me dirty looks.”

He nods. “I understand, that’s why I uh… wanted t’explain myself. I shouldn’t’ve done that, but I was angry. Ain’t right, still…”

“What could I have possibly done to you?”

His eyes were large, brown, and wet. “This was uh… my brother’s house. He died 3 years ago.”

*

5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadn’t felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.

“Funny.” He pats the couch. “This was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.”

“It’s uh… a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?”

“Right…“ Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “The house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.”

“Did he die in here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls. 

The golf joke still didn’t make sense, but you’d figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joel’s birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.

“I know it ain’t right the way I’ve treat’n yuh. And I know it’s not your fault. I just hadn’t been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my son… I ain’t been the man he raised me to be. I now you don’t… do anything. In town. That’s probably my fault and I’m so-”

“You think I stay home because I’m avoiding you?” You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. “Brother, I ain’t scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!”

Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. “Oh… I guess I just assumed...”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming. Make’s an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.” You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.

Tommy follows you. “Well I’m sorry! I guess I just figured, the time’n ‘n all.”

You throw a look over your shoulder. “I stay home because I like it here. Because I’ve been alone for years, so I’m fine with it.”

“But why not-” He stops in his tracks. “Where did you get that?”

You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. “Uh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it up… why? Who is it?”

You knew the answer before he even spoke Joel’s name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.

“Keep it.” You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didn’t know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didn’t matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.

“That’s her. That’s Sarah.” Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl. 

“She’s adorable.”

“Yeah… she was. Great kid too.”

Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasn’t yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.

You told as much as he stood in your doorway. “I don’t hold it against you. I promise.”

He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. “Promise you’ll come to the next movie night, it’s tomorrow. It’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“What’s playing?‘

“Scream 2!”

You roll your eyes. “Not the first one?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tommy says with a tease. “Is fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?”

You shove him out of your door, laughing. “Fine! I’ll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.”

You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, you’d have screamed if you didn’t cover your mouth.

It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.

“Joel?” You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.

*

“Are you mad at me?” You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.

“No.”

“Well, you’ve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? I’m sorry, it’s just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-”

“I miss him.”

Three whole words. 

“You’re getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?”

“You saw me?”

“Yeah, and I hear you really good now.” You grin. “I can’t believe you’re talking this much. Maybe I’ll skip the movie, I don’t wanna lose-”

“No. Go.” a brief pause. “Please.”

“Joel Miller,” You tease him. “Are you having me check on your baby brother?” He rustles your hair.

*

So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to. 

You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as you’d done every night for months as you talk to him. Joel’s voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over. 

“Walker is doing really well.” You tell him about his nephew you’ve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joel’s death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldn’t be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and he’s repairing that relationship.

“You met him?”

“Yeah, he’s quiet. But he’s very polite.” Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.

He sighs. “Yeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raise’n Tommy was close enough. But when I was with him… Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her alive… yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommy’s grief, I guess. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walker… I dunno if I could have been that strong.”

A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. He’s no longer a still picture, he’s moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.

But he looks right at you.

*

You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes he’s tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes it’s more faint, like he’s using all his strength to be see and he can’t materialize his touch. You don’t know how it works, but you’re happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.

“You're beautiful.” And it’s your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasn’t enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him. 

A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. “I really don’t deserve you…” When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. “I’ve killed people.”

That wasn’t a shock. Who hasn’t? “I have too.”

But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if he’s frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. “No, I’ve killed innocents. A lot. Me ‘n Tommy, before… and protect’n Ellie…”

You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you don’t feel the repulsion you know he expects. “You kill children?”

“No.” He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didn’t think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. “But that don’t make it much better.”

“Did rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?” 

Disgust mares his features. “No, never.”

You nod. “You kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?”

Again, a shake of his head doesn’t knock loose a single hair. “No, but before-”

“I’m not worried about before.” You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50’s would be, but that’s what happens when you aren’t fully there. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-” You vaguely whisk your hand around. “Does things to us. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not a rapist, didn’t kill kids, not one of those really, really bad people… I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.”

His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. “Thank you, darl’n I mean it. I wasn’t always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,”

Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. “Tommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.”

But he’s still distant. “Maybe. But maybe he just misses me. That’s different. Besides, there’s someone I know hasn’t.”

“Ellie?”

He nods. “She…. well, we just started talk’n, right before I died. Didn’t have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.”

“She does, Joel. It’s been years, I know she does.”

But he didn’t believe you.

*

Joel’s words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though he’d never know-

Oh.

That’s why he was trapped here, wasn’t it? Joel’s ghost remained behind because he didn’t have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasn’t sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellie’s forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didn’y hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.

Joel couldn’t talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldn’t even move things or create a breeze when he was around…

If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking him… part of your mind told you that you could do it.

But that wasn’t right. He’d be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have? 

That wasn’t you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.

*

Tommy’s face was one of worry when you told him you’d seen the ghost of his brother. You’d spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.

“Yes! Tommy I’m fine-”

“I dunno, you’re kinda a weird person to begin with, see’n shit wouldn’t be that new-”

“Tommy!” You stand abruptly from his couch,  pulling at your hair. “I’m not seeing- I’m not hallucinating him! You don’t understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day that’s why I don’t go anywhere!”

A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Honey, maybe you’re seeing him because you’re alone every day.”

“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” You shout at him, and he softens. 

“I know, I know.” Tommy stands. “Maybe… maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-” he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.

“Does the term ‘don’t go golf’n mean anything to you?”

Confusion crosses his face. “Not really, why?”

A deep breath. “He… I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said don’t go golfing. Never explained.”

Tommy’s skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. “How did you know that.”

You can’t help but groan. “I told you, he-”

“ENOUGH GAMES!” The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy must’ve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. “I’m serious. This isn’t fucking funny.”

Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didn’t think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. “I wouldn’t joke about this… he- he said it was a joke I wouldn’t get, and I don’t. Tommy please, I’m being serious…”

Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. “Holy shit. You’re telling the truth…”

“I am.” You sob. “Tommy I swear I’m telling the truth. He needs help, he’s trapped here… we need to help him…”

He was shaking. “C-can I see him?”

It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I think…He’s tired when you are over…“

Dizzy, Tommy sits down. “He was round… whenever I was over, wasn’t he? That’s why I always feel so calm there…”

You nod. “He calms me too. I don’t know how.” You join him on the couch again. “Tommy, what does don't go golfing mean?”

His face is buried in his hands, and you think he’s crying. It’s a lot, you know, it’ a lot to spring on someone, especially that he can’t hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.

When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.

“He was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.”

*

Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. “Something on your mind, darl’n?”

You don’t wanna lie to him, but you can’t tell him what’s happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.

“Tommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.” You didn’t tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if she’s there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman she’s never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.

A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.

Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and they’d been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happy… Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

You wanted one last night.

Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.

“Joel…” You moan, feeling him rutt against you.

“I know, I feel it too.” His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.

He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didn’t matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joel’s breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time. 

“You’re always s’fucking wet.” He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. “Been wish’n I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.”

You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. “Need you.” You beg like a needy young thing, like you’d never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged. 

“I got yuh, darl’n…” Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?

Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didn’t feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. “I hope yuh ain’t scared’a me? Are yuh?”

You’ve never been more sure of saying no in your life. “Ain’t scared.” You whisper. “I just… I love you so much…” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasn’t why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.

Joel’s eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. “I love you too. So damn much.”

Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. “Fuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel you…”

Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him. 

“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me…” He moans in your ear, desperate like he’s falling apart at one stroke. But he doesn’t. When he fucks you, it’s with more vigor, more energy than you’ve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished he’d bruise you, wished he’d cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.

He couldn’t do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. “Mark me.” You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. “I need to know this is real. All of it.” The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. “This isn’t forever, you know this can’t before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We can’t get married, you can’t leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.”

His movements slow. “Oh, pretty baby…” He murmurs lowly. “I’ll give anything if it means you can’t forget me.” he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

But nothing of Joel could be too much.

A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You shout so loud you don’t care who hears you. Half the town thinks you’re fucking Tommy anyway. Don’t stop fucking you, don’t stop marking you, don’t, don’t, don’t go.

You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you can’t see him any more. Anything so that he doesn’t get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.

He’s impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you don’t question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever he’s filling you with, you don’t care. It’s him. 

“More, more” You cry into his shoulder, but he’s already slowing his thrusts.

“I’m as deep as I can go, baby…” He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.

You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and it’s too much. You need more, but it’s not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.

It’s more time.

*

You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joel’s body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.

“Sorry baby.” He apoligized, hugging you. “I dunno why I can’t control coming better.” He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didn’t have it in you to laugh.

“It’s okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.”

“Yeah…” He touched the bandage he’d put on your hip with soft intent. “How you feel’n bout this?”

You smile. “Great. But Joel…” You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. “I gotta tell you something… I told Tommy about you…” Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. “And he went and found Ellie, she’s hear. I think… I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is cleared… you can move on.”

For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. “You know… that means I can’t see you again, right.”

Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. “I know, I know… but it’s not right for me to keep you here! You- you said it’s dark, and you’re scared.”

“I ain’t scared when I’m with you…”

“But you won’t always be with me! I need to help you move on! It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!”

He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. He’d see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.

His voice in your ear.

“Ellie.”

*

She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20’s with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you. 

“I’m gonna need more proof than some golf joke.”

“It was enough to get you here, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, that’s why I’m here.” She turned to her uncle. “We’re even, by the way.”

“Sure as shit are.” He sighs, then looks at you. “He here?” 

You gesture to the couch. “Yeah he’s sitting right- hey!”

Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.

“I don’t fucking feel anything.”

“That’s not how it works Ellie!” Tommy flicked her arm. “Relax.”

With a huff, she crossed her arms again. “Fine.”

Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. “Tell her something only Joel would know.”

When you turn to Joel, he’s looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet she’s still Ellie to him. He doesn’t turn to you. ‘David.’ He instructs, and you turn to her.

“Do you know a David?” And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, she’s shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. “Did Joel fucking telling you that!?”

From beyond Tommy’s protests that he doesn’t know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists he’d never tell that to anyone, but Ellie can’t hear him.

You try to calm them. “He says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.”

“Yeah! I fucking did!”

“He says if he goes to hell, David is the first person he’s finding.”

She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. “David tried to rape me when I was 14.” She grits out. “I stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.”

Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesn’t speak.

You nod. “Good.”

And then, she sinks into the couch. “Whenever I had nightmares… Joel always told me David was the first person he’d find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.”

You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. “He loves you both very, very much… and the uncertainty is what’s keeping him here. I need to help him move on.” 

“So what? You’re some sort of fucking medium?”

“No, I’ve never had anything like this happen before but… He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezes… then he started moving things, hearing his voice…. Now I can see him, he’s as clear as you are, honestly.”

Tommy speaks now. “He’s gotta know-” He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell he’s struggling to talk to a brown cushion. “You gotta know we love you, don’t know? How can you doubt that?”

‘Tell him I do. But tell him… I don’t know if he forgives me.’

“Joel knows you both love him, but that’s not why he’s stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.”

Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. “Joel… those things we did… it’s been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while but…” He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. “I got Walker now and… after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to survive… you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. I’d do the same for my kid, if I needed to.”

‘But I shouldn’t have made you do any of it, Tommy.’

“Joel feels bad that he made you participate.”

“You didn’t make me do fuck’n shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldn’t take lose’n your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.”

Ellie pipes up. “I get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didn’t know if I could forgive you… telling you I couldn’t… but… UUGHHHH!” She slumps down, covering her face. “Joel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we don’t know if it could’ve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I don’t know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-”

‘You were a teenager, that’s normal-’

“But I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I got my kid now. I know you’re old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-”

Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.

“But it’s Jesse’s. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and he… he died. But I’ve been raising him with her the last few years… She took me back… You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joel…” Ellie sighs, smiling. “She really does.”

‘Tell ‘er I’m glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.’

“Joel says he doesn’t blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says he’s glad Dina and you are happy. What’s the babies name?”

Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. “The baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.”

Tear fill up Joel’s eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice he’s not as clear as he was before.

“Joel!” You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. “Joel, I think it worked… you’re fading…” You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you weren’t sure what you’d do with your life, who you’d talk to or confide in…. But you knew, you knew above all you’d miss him. There would never be another Joel.

‘Please-’ He sounds desperate now, scared even. ‘One more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.’

Through your sobs, you relay the message. “He needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- you’re everything to him.” You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close. 

“We love you, Joel. All of us.” Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.

‘And the kids. Walker and- fuck I ain’t never met JJ but I love him too. If, if there’s a heaven I’m gonna…’ His words start to fade, but you know what he’s saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasn’t sure about that.

“He says he loves Walker and JJ, he’s gonna watch over them in heaven”

That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.

You look up at your lover. “I love you, Joel. I’m always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. It’s gonna be okay, I promise you. We’re gonna be alright, we’re doing okay. You can let go now. It’s okay to let go. There’s no one left you need to protect.. we’re safe.”

Even though he’s fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He can’t speak, his strength fading, but it’s all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isn’t holding Tommy’s brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again. There’s fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.

Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. ‘I see her’

All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.

For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.

Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.

*

When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe. 

“His last words were, ‘’I see her’....”

Tommy whispers Sarah’s name, and you nod. 

“He’s with her now. He’s a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, but…” Ellie wipes her tears. “We all know how much he missed her.”

Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.

Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didn’t feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didn’t scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.

You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.

It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.

But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.

No matter what happened, you’d always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.

I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.

Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.

Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!

follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!

So long, and thanks for all the fish <3

reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3

@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson's album is released to much celebration while Imani & Isaiah's relationship evolves. EJ prepares for a major life change and Genie's father, Kendrick, worries about his daughter while Camille does battle from two fronts.

Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI), smut!!!, oral sex (female receiving), daddy kink (male characters being referred to as that), p in v sex, dom/sub kink (if you squint -- shout out to dusanya), toxic relationship (intentional jealousy, deception, lying), usage of the n word -- if you white and read it, you owe us $20, mentions of therapy, emotional breakdowns, mentions of depression, deception in relationships -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 10.1k

Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

The hotel lobby buzzed with energy as Jameson’s promo team flitted around, coordinating schedules and prepping for the next interview. Camille lingered by the grand piano, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, but her focus kept drifting to Jameson. He stood across the room, deep in conversation with his publicist, his easy smile and confident presence commanding the space. Everywhere he went, people stopped to look. Even if they didn’t recognize him — he was a beautiful man, it was hard not to look.

Her heart swelled, and a giddy grin tugged at her lips when she realized that he was all hers. I’m his girlfriend. The thought still felt surreal, like she’d stepped into a dream she hadn’t dared to hope for. She wasn’t just part of his world—she was his.

“Hey,” Jameson called, breaking her reverie. He crossed the room toward her, his grin softening into something just for her. “You good?”

“Better now,” Camille said, her voice light but sincere. She reached for his hand, relishing the way his fingers laced through hers.

“Sorry it’s been nonstop,” he said, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Once this wraps, we’ll grab dinner. Just us.” His publicist damn near followed them everywhere since the album promo began. She kept a tight lid on the news surrounding Jameson — even refusing to let Camille do an interview mentioning Jameson. Suffice it to say, the two weren’t overly fond of each other. She’d be glad to get the other man out of their everyday lives.

She nodded, pleased that it was almost over. The day had been a whirlwind and while it was hectic being by his side — she loved it. Even when the lingering shadow of doubt kept creeping in.

Imani’s name had come up more than once during interviews, reporters keen to dig into the inspiration behind Jameson’s album. Camille had smiled through it, remaining unblinking in the face of his past but each mention chipped away at her confidence. She knew they were friends—Jameson had been upfront about that—but it didn’t make it easier.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her attention. She glanced at the screen and froze.

[ +33123456789 ]: Enjoy him while you can. I helped you get him but I can’t help you keep him. If that album’s anything to go by, he’s not over Imani. He’ll go running back to her eventually.

Camille’s chest tightened. She locked the screen quickly, shoving the phone back into her pocket as Jameson’s hand gave hers a reassuring squeeze.

“Something wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. “No, it’s fine,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Just a work thing.”

Jameson studied her for a moment, his gaze searching, but before he could press further, his publicist called him back. “Hold that thought,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

As he walked away, Camille’s smile faltered. The room felt suddenly too loud, too bright. She wanted to believe in Jameson, in them, but Sloane’s words lingered, feeding into her worst fears.

She tried to push Sloane’s words out of her head, but they kept resurfacing like a never-ending loop. It had all started at Paris Fashion Week when she and Sloane had been introduced by a mutual friend. They had hit it off immediately, bonding over their shared love for fashion. But as the night went on, the reasons for her move to Paris became clearer.

It was a classic tale of unrequited love – Sloane confessed to Camille that she was in love with a man who didn’t feel the same way about her. The man had chosen another woman and their relationship was chaotic on its best day, destructive on its worst. And it didn’t take long for Camille to realize who this man was – James Lucas.

At first, Camille dismissed it as just a silly crush. After all, Jameson was a famous musician and many women were drawn to him. But as Sloane continued to talk about him – praising his talent and charisma – Camille couldn’t help but feel sad for her. When the news came that Imani and James were over, it had been Camille’s suggestion that she spend time with Jameson to see if would accept Sloane back into his life.

Her job was simple: Talk to him, befriend him, put in a good word for Sloane. Things quickly escalated after she met him. He was just as magnetic as Sloane said…but there was a sadness within him. All she wanted to do was make him smile. Before she knew what was happening, they were in bed together and she was falling head over heels just as Sloane did.

Despite knowing her feelings for him were getting serious, she continued pretending to nudge him in Sloane’s direction – pumping her friend for information. Things he liked, things he hated. With every bit of info, she found herself closer and closer to him. It didn’t take ten years to get close. Sloane had already provided her with the cheat codes. And so she used them until Jameson was visiting her penthouse several times a week for more than just sex.

Guilt ridden but determined to keep him for herself, she began to slowly distance herself from Sloane. She erased everything, hoping not to get caught up. Sloane’s repeated texts and calls for updates went unanswered. What had been an amiable friendship quickly spiraled. Gone was the sweet but obviously love-stricken woman. In her place was a woman scorned — and Camille had earned her ire.

She glanced at Jameson again, watching the way he moved through the crowd with effortless charm. He was hers, but for how long? And if he still cared about Imani—if there was even a chance—could she handle being second best? For all the brave things she uttered to EJ at the party, she was terrified of losing Jameson. And Sloane reminded her that she had good reason to be.

Well, fuck that. Camille took her phone from her pocket and returned a text for the first time in months.

He and I just happened, Sloane. I didn’t intend it. But we’ve made a commitment to each other and nothing is going to undermine that. Not you, not Imani. Nothing. Leave me alone.

She took a steadying breath, trying to shake off the unease. She wasn’t going to let Sloane’s words ruin this moment. Not when she was here, with Jameson, living a reality she’d once only dreamed of. Still, the doubts lingered, heavy and unwelcome.

A month passed and she still only knew him as James Lucas. She hadn’t contacted him, and he hadn’t contacted her. It was bittersweet. It meant that she never had to hear about how great he and Camille were doing, but it also meant that she never got to see or hear him as Jameson. She had come to terms with this…until a few weeks ago when he seemed to be everywhere again. 

His highly anticipated album, Midnight & Dawn, had finally dropped and in the week leading up to it, James Lucas made appearances on every late-night television show, radio segment, and podcast she could think of. His hit single, “Burn,” dominated the airways. He was damn near inescapable. Usually, Imani could handle his public blitz. Every time she saw his name or heard his song, she simply scrolled past it or changed the station. But during an interview on the popular Rhythm & Tea podcast, the damn bastard had to mention her name.

"Okay, let’s get into the details. It’s called Rhythm and Tea. Where’s the tea?” She teased him. “We love your new single, Burn. We have to know, James, is it about anyone in particular? Because we have our theories." "Let me hear the theories." "One of our producers think it's about your latest break up with our girl, Imani. Is that true?" He hesitated before offering a chuckle in response, "Yes, we wrote it a year or so ago. Around the time we broke up." Lea’s eyes went wide and she said “Ooooh.” Much to the amusement of her co-host but Jameson continued. “But I mean — it's Mani. She's a phenomenal woman. You lose someone like her, you feel it. For a long time. But I'm lucky. She and I have managed to be friends. I respect that so that's all I'll be saying.”

Imani watched the clip at least five times now, still reeling from the fact that he mentioned her name on the podcast. But her initial shock has since turned into annoyance. Why would he bring her up now? And friends? They hadn’t spoken in a whole month! And why was he still wearing that stupid watch? In every video she’s seen of him lately, he’s wearing the watch that she had given him. It didn’t make sense. If he moved on with someone else, why was he still wearing a physical reminder of their past relationship? Was he playing some kind of twisted game? 

Imani let out an exasperated sigh as the video began to auto-play yet again. She quickly tapped the pause button, halting the incessant sounds. She hadn’t even heard the song yet. Imani had been diligently avoiding all texts and Instagram comments about his new album, but this interview was the final straw. She couldn’t resist it any longer. 

She reached for her remote from her coffee table and turned on her speakers. A few swift taps on her phone and his voice filled the quietness of her house. She started with Midnight, immediately recognizing each lyric that referenced their tumultuous relationship. 

As she listened to each track, some stood out more than others, but each one hit her harder than the last. The smooth, soulful beats of “Roll Some Mo” reminded her of the first time they met, their love still fresh and innocent. She could almost feel the warmth of her hand in hers and the pure bliss that consumed them.

But when she got deeper into the album and “Confessions” played, Imani’s heart ached with pain as she remembered Jameson’s infidelity and how deeply hurt she was. The lyrics cut her like shards of glass. 

By the time she reached one of the final tracks, “Used to Be”,  tears were streaming down her cheeks. It transported her to the dark space of their breakup, reliving that painful conversation they had and how much she regretted it the next day. His somber voice, accompanied by haunting strings, left her in a state of emotional turmoil. She huddled on her couch, pulling her knees to her chest as sobs wracked through her body. It was as if he had written those songs just for her, ripping open old wounds and pouring salt on them. 

How long will it take me to remember? I'm afraid what we had is already faded We left it frozen in December Who's makin' the rules to make you stay? Ooh

They broke up last December. It couldn’t be anyone but her.

A dying rose in the winter I'm holdin' on every way I can Tell me, is this only just me By my lonely? Ooh

The sorrow in his voice cut through Imani’s heart like a knife. As he sang, memories flooded back, as if their breakup was happening all over again. She couldn’t hold back the tears that were steadily streaming down her face, her body trembled with each sob. In the year since they parted ways, Imani never once reached out to him or checked in with Genie to see how he was doing. Instead, she pushed away any reminders of Jameson, thinking it would make moving on easier. But now, as she listened to him mourn the death of their relationship, Imani was consumed with regret. She should have been there for him, even if they weren’t together anymore.

Imani inhaled deeply as the album came to a close, wiping her face dry. “Shit.” She said. Every song on Midnight had the power to transport her back in time to a different moment in her relationship with Jameson. Each track unlocked a new memory and stirred up a whirlwind of emotions for her. Each song reminded her of what they had lost, it was emotionally exhausting. She didn’t know if she could handle it all over again with the companion album – Dawn. But something compelled her to keep listening, so she pressed play. 

Fightin' fuckin', fuckin' fightin' That's the way we love it, damn, I love you Playin' games just to get a reaction, pushin' buttons

Imani’s mind was flooded with more memories, each one hitting her like a wrecking ball. The fights, the passionate sex, and using other men to make him jealous – she knew all the cheat codes to get under his skin. Their love was complicated, turbulent, and consuming – but it was their own special kind of chaos. So why did it feel like he didn’t love their chaotic relationship anymore? She had been the one to walk away, to choose a different path, but she always thought she could come back to him. Now as she listened to Dawn, she wasn’t so sure. 

Then came the songs that she knew were about someone else – Camille. Her tears turned into furrowed brows and heated skin as the realization hit her. Imani felt a surge of annoyance towards Camille – how dare she be the subject of his love songs? How dare she be the reason he sounded happy? They had only known each other for six months. In a fit of frustration, Imani unlocked her phone and quickly typed out a message to Jameson.

[ Imani ]: The album sounds amazing, friend. Congrats on the success, xoxo. [ 323-555-0198 ]: Thank you, Mani. For everything. I’m glad to see you’re well too, friend.

Furrowing her brow, Imani squinted at the message, her eyes scanning over it repeatedly as if she was searching for a hidden meaning. She couldn’t help but scoff and roll her eyes in frustration. The entire foundation of their friendship felt hollow and insincere. He hadn’t contacted her in weeks, but now his hands were free to type some bullshit ass text? Her fingers flew across the screen, furiously typing out a lengthy response. She read over it as her thumb hovered over pressing send. 

But would he even care what she had to say? He was so wrapped up in Camille. He wouldn’t give a damn about her anger. It wouldn’t ignite him like the Jameson she knew. She huffed, closing out of his messages. It wasn’t worth the time or the energy. Frustrated and fed up with Jameson, Imani turned to someone she knew would take her mind off him and his dumb ass double album. 

[ Imani ]: hey, i miss u. come see me. the gate code is 4592. 

Isaiah Ellis was renowned as the highest-paid and most sought-after athlete in basketball. Men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. Isaiah was idolized and respected by many for his contributions to basketball. He wielded power on and off the court. People dropped to their knees to get him what he wanted. However, when it came to Imani, he was putty in her hands. She held all the power in their relationship and she knew it. 

Since they met in New York, he’s stayed in contact with her. Isaiah checked in while he was away in different cities playing with his team. He showered Imani with expensive and lavish gifts. And whenever he was in Los Angeles, he dedicated his time to her. Now, Imani wasn’t a dummy. She knew he had other women in his life. She’d seen the tabloids and how Isaiah angled his phone away from her whenever she was near. Imani didn’t care, because he was simply a placeholder for a spot she needed to fill. His company brought her comfort, as he had a way of making her forget about Jameson, even if it was only for a few hours. It was a much-needed relief for Imani.

With Isaiah’s tongue and fingers working tirelessly to please her, Imani couldn’t help but moan and writhe beneath him. He had been going at it for hours – eating her pussy and bringing her to multiple orgasms before allowing her to rest and then starting again. Just when she thought he had gotten his fill, he proved his insatiable appetite by returning for more. 

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she moaned as his warm breath sent shivers down her spine. His tongue expertly flicked against her clit while his fingers plunged deep inside her with each stroke. She gripped his head as she matched his rhythm with her hips. “You gon’ make me cum again.”

“That’s what I want, mama. Give it to me.” He mumbled against her clit. Isaiah picked up the pace, his tongue joined in on the action. He was greedy, practically begging for her release with his fingers searching for that right spot. 

His tongue pressed harder against her causing Imani to spiral towards yet another orgasm. “I’m…I’m…” she gasped loudly before succumbing to pleasure once again. He slowly stroked her through her release before tenderly cleaning the wetness around her pussy with his tongue and lips. 

“Mmm,” he groaned against her sensitive flesh. “I can’t get enough of your pretty pussy.” He kissed her clit, making her shudder one last time. Isaiah released her from his embrace. Then he stood and made his way to the bathroom, giving Imani time to slip into her thong and return to the comfort of her king-size bed. He soon joined her, settling in by her side. 

“You sure everything alright, baby? You seem off tonight,” Isaiah asked, his hands roaming over her smooth skin. Imani forced a smile and replied, “Yeah, I’m fine. I promise.” But she was lying. She couldn’t shake Midnight & Dawn, specifically the songs she heard about Camille. Despite Isaiah’s best efforts, even he couldn’t make her forget about Jameson and how he felt about Imani. Was he really happy with her? Did Camille make him happier than she did? She was tired of wondering and feeling jealous of another woman. Imani hated him because of the power he had over her. No man could make her insane like he could. 

She reached for her phone on the nightstand and unlocked it. Imani didn’t know this Jameson, but she knew exactly what to do to drive the old Jameson insane. She just hoped that side of him wasn’t gone too. He needed to feel what she had been feeling since this morning: jealousy. Opening up Instagram, she tapped to post as Isaiah adjusted himself, resting his head on her stomach. He said something, but Imani didn’t hear him. She was focused on finding the perfect picture of Isaiah to post. After finally selecting one, she thought of a caption and hit post. Hopefully, this would be enough to make Jameson suffer.

Jameson stood in the middle of Camille's bedroom, thumb frozen over the picture that he hadn’t been expecting to see.

In the weeks since his lunch with Imani, he had wanted to reach out but he didn’t know quite what to say. Being friends with a woman you were in love with but trying not to be in love with was…weird. It was difficult. He didn’t know how to talk to her but he held on to the positive side of things: they wished one another well.

He didn’t know he’d regret those words. He had just opened Instagram, more out of habit than intention, but he had searched her name purposely. He could hear Camille her in her walk in closet, going through clothes to decide what to wear for dinner but he couldn't quite contain himself.

It wasn’t even a picture of Imani. He had spent more time than he liked simply going to her page, staring at pictures of her, and then closing out of the app when he realized how pathetic it was. But this one, he knew he never wanted to see again.

A man sat on a couch, surrounded by dogs. Her mother’s dogs. This nigga met her mama? He wasn’t looking at the camera but he obviously knew the picture was being taken while he played around with the dogs. It wasn’t just the fact that she had taken it and posted it to her account that incensed him. Or the fact that he seemed to already meet her family. It was also the caption. That was the worst part. 

One word: Daddy 🥰

Before he could stop himself, he felt the anger well in his chest — making him tighten his grip on the phone. He’d seen her with other people. Grainy photos taken from a distance but she had never posted them herself. He could console himself with the delusion that if she didn't claim them, it didn't matter. But this man was on her page. This man was claimed by her. And she was calling him things she had only ever called Jameson.

His thumb hovered over the screen, tempted to click on the comments, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need to see the flood of people gushing over how happy they were for her. Fuck him. And fuck her right in that moment.

When did she meet him? How long had they been together? Was this why she had so easily accepted his offer of friendship? A million questions raced through his mind as he tried to make sense of it all.

He couldn’t understand why she would post something like that on social media. Was she trying to hurt him? They played games like this often when they were together — seeing who could and would react first. It was part of the allure of being with Imani. Part of the excitement. But they weren't together now so...what was the point? He had no hope for a romantic one but he hadn't wanted to lose her. But now — he wasn't sure if he could even stand talking to her without frustration bubbling over. 

As soon as that thought occurred to him, Jameson knew he was being unreasonable. How could he be jealous? He told her he wanted to be friends. He really did want the best for her. So why did this affect him so much? The answer was right there — lurking in the recesses of his brain: You wanted to be the only man for her. You wanted to be the only man to know what it felt like to bring her to the brink of bliss — to get her so out of control that she called you that one word.

He was a piece of shit.

“Babe, what do you think?” Camille’s voice floated in from the closet. Jameson didn’t bother looking up from his phone as he responded. “Huh?”

“The dress,” Camille said, walking in and doing a twirl. She looked beautiful in a gold gown, shimmering every time she swayed her hips. It was a walk people paid millions for but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. “Do you think they look okay here?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” he said quickly, his voice tight.

Camille tilted her head, studying him. “What happened?”

Jameson forced himself to stop looking, peering up at his girlfriend and trying to school his features into something that didn’t resemble anger. “Nothing, baby. I’m good. I’m sorry. I’m just uh—scheduling an appointment with my therapist.”

She didn’t look convinced but she didn’t push. Instead, she blew him a kiss as she walked back into the closet for shoes.

Jameson exhaled slowly, his fingers curling into fists. Images of Imani fucking another man filled his mind. The worst part was the way he heard an echo of her in his head. Instead of making him happy that she had found someone, he felt a fresh rush of anger.

But there was no time for it. Camille didn’t deserve his misplaced frustration. He had made the decision to move forward in their relationship. And he was going to follow through on it. Jameson took one last look down at the image, a scoff leaving his mouth. He clicked her name, scrolled her profile, and went through the process of blocking her.

It made him feel better for all of two minutes. Two minutes that he used to remind himself that he was a taken man now. He told himself to let it go, to focus on what he had with Camille. She was kind, patient, and everything he should want. She knew him so well that it was like they had been together most of his life. She didn’t play games. She didn’t take pride or pleasure in sending him reeling. All she wanted to do was be with him. He should cherish that. 

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of Imani. The caption echoed in his mind, and a bitter thought followed: He ain’t me and I hope she hates it. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. He had to get over her. He had to.

Just then, his phone beeped – alerting him to a text message.

[ ej dupree ]: everything’s set [ ej dupree ]: just left kendrick’s house. he officially allowed me to take genie’s hand in marriage 🎉 [ jameson ]: congratulations 👏 ken don’t play about his baby so if he says yes, you must have impressed him [ ej dupree ]: you know me. i’m a impressive muhfucka [ jameson ]: shut up nigga 😂 [ ej dupree ]: you and camille still coming? [ jameson ]: of course, man. wouldn’t miss it for the world. i’m happy for y’all.

“Baby?” Camille’s voice called softly.

He looked up, feeling better after the text from EJ but still annoyed at Imani. It took effort but he managed to school his expression into something calm and collected. “Mhm?”

“I'm ready.” she said with a small smile.

He gave her a small smile, moving toward her in the doorway as he shoved his phone into his back pocket. “I'm ready too.” He saw a genuine smile on her face then and felt guilt hit him in the gut. She was worried about him. Jameson framed her face, leaning in to kiss her softly. “Thank you for taking me to dinner. Thank you for wanting to celebrate me. I’m sorry for being so inattentive. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” 

Kendrick leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass of iced tea. The lounge room in his Beverly Hills home was quiet, the kind of quiet he liked—just enough jazz in the background to keep the silence from feeling too heavy. Across from him, Anaïs Lucas sat with her usual grace, her sharp eyes watching him like she could see right through him.

Even now, years removed from his days on the court, Kendrick still had the presence of a man who once ruled arenas. The framed photos on the lounge walls—him in a Lakers jersey, mid-dunk, or holding the championship trophy—were a constant reminder of his legacy. People still whispered his name when they saw him, still asked for photos and autographs when he stepped out in public. But here, with Anaïs, he wasn’t the legendary Kendrick Adesanya. He was just a man trying to find his footing.

“You’ve been staring at that glass for five minutes,” Anaïs said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “That means you’re overthinking.”

“Am I that predictable?” Kendrick asked, a small smile breaking through. “To me? Always,” she teased, her voice softening.

Kendrick exhaled, leaning forward slightly. “It’s Genie. And Jamie.”

Anaïs tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Go on.” “I’m worried about our kids.” He admitted softly. “…I may or may not also be worried about Jamie.” Anaïs confessed. “But about Imogen? Never.” “She’s getting married.”

Anaïs’s eyes went wide but she said nothing, waiting for him to finish.

“I like the boy,” Kendrick began, his tone measured. “He’s solid. Respectful. Loves her, I can tell. He came to the house. Asked for permission to propose. I know it’s just a courtesy but it was good he asked. I just…”

“You can’t let your baby go.” Anaïs finished, her smirk turning into a knowing smile.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It's not just that. But she’s my only one, Anaïs. My baby girl. I want her to be happy and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Anaïs reassured him. “I know EJ. He’s a good man. Says what he means, driven, loyal. They’ll be okay.”

Deep down, Kendrick knew that. Genie had a good head on her shoulders but he was afraid for her. EJ was a man who seemed to know what he wanted. Genie had many friends — was known as the Princess of the Staples Center — but he worried she was too impressionable. Even at the age of twenty eight.

Her mother died when she was a child and it left Kendrick struggling to raise her. She was a lonely kid, surrounded by mostly adults, but blossomed. By some miracle, she turned out to be a remarkable human being. Kind, considerate, loving. He juggled a professional career at a level that men half his age would have fumbled but raising Genie was his pride and joy. For all her virtues, his baby was whimsical. She couldn’t make a decision to save her life. One week, she wanted to be an actress. The next, she wanted to be an actress and a lawyer.

By the time she was eighteen, none of those dreams had mattered. She settled on fashion design. Went to college for it. Did tons of internships. He would know. He paid for it all. The degrees, the pied-à-terre in Paris, the apartment in Rome that turned into a house in Umbria, the manufacturing of a test line of clothing, and now...he was working on building her a brick and mortar store. If she ever debuted the fashion line she'd been working on for half a decade. Kendrick watched as his daughter did her best to find her place in the world. He wanted more for her than to be someone’s wife.

“I wanted her to find herself before she had a family. I want all those dreams she has to come to fruition. She’s just...so young.”

Anaïs tilted her head, her expression softening. “She’s not a little girl anymore, Kendrick. She’s not lost—she’s just carving her own path.”

Kendrick exhaled, his broad shoulders slumping slightly. “I know that. I do. But when I see her with EJ, I can’t help but think she’s gonna rush into something she doesn’t fully understand yet because she loves him. Marriage, kids—it’s a lot.”

Anaïs studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp but kind. “You’re projecting.”

Kendrick blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’re projecting,” she repeated, her voice steady. “You didn’t marry me because you weren’t ready. You achieved everything there was to achieve and still...you hesitated. You see marriage as the end and not the beginning. Which means you’re still not ready. But Genie isn’t you. She’s got a different story to write.”

He frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not why we didn’t get married.” “It isn’t?” she questioned with a laugh, knowing she was right.

Kendrick didn’t answer right away. He stared at the ice melting in his glass, his thoughts tangled. “This isn’t about us. I just don’t want her to wake up one day and wonder what could’ve been.”

Anaïs reached out, placing a hand over his. “She won’t. Because she knows who she is, and she knows what she wants. You raised her to be strong, Kendrick. Trust her.”

He looked at her, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

Anaïs chuckled softly, withdrawing her hand. “I’ve had years of practice.”

Kendrick hesitated, the weight of their shared history pressing against his chest. “What about Jamie?” he asked, steering the conversation away from his daughter. “You think he knows what he wants?”

Anaïs sighed, shaking her head. “Jameson’s…complicated. The album’s been a reflection of everything he’s going through. And Imani—”

“Imani,” Kendrick interrupted, his brow furrowing. “You’ve mentioned her before. I haven’t met her, but it sounds like she’s a big part of his life. Genie loves her to pieces.”

“She is,” Anaïs admitted. “They’re not together anymore, but she’s still important to him. They’ve been through a lot together. I don’t know. I thought bringing them together would help but I think I’ve made it worse. He seems so conflicted now.”

Kendrick frowned. “Doesn’t sound like he’s fully moved on.”

“Maybe he hasn’t,” Anaïs said, her voice quiet. “But moving on isn’t always linear. Sometimes, the people from our past shape us in ways we don’t expect.”

Kendrick’s gaze lingered on her, the unspoken weight of their own past hanging between them. “Well…,” he said softly. “Now who’s projecting?”

Anaïs met his eyes, her expression unreadable. “I am not.” She said firmly. Kendrick returned her the smug laughter she’d given him only moments before. “We walked away from each other. You want him to figure it out with Imani…because we didn’t.”

For a moment, the years melted away, and it was just the two of them again—two people who had loved deeply but had never made it work. Despite ten years and an engagement, they never could quite make each other fit into their worlds.

He wanted to say more, to tell her that he still thought about her, about them. But the words caught in his throat, and all he could do was hold onto the moment, hoping it wouldn’t slip away too quickly.

Instead, Kendrick cleared his throat, his voice steady but quiet. “You know, I’ve never wanted to overstep with Jamie but…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I’d want to give him good fatherly advice even though I know I’m not his father. I’d tell him not to let the good ones slip away. Not because of fear or pride or anything else that gets in the way. If Imani’s that person for him, he needs to figure it out before it’s too late.”

Anaïs’s gaze softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You’ve known him since he was ten. You may not be his father biologically, Kendrick, but he looks at you and sees one. So you are.”

Kendrick blinked, caught off guard by the weight of her words. He shifted in his seat, his broad shoulders straightening as he processed what she’d just said. “He’s never said but…I wouldn’t mind if that’s the way he felt,” he said after a beat, his voice gruff. “That boy’s got a lot of heart. He’s always gone after what he wanted. If he’s got something special with Imani, then maybe he needs to remember what he stands to lose.”

Anaïs tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “I’ve tried. But Jameson’s stubborn, and he’s still figuring it out.”

Kendrick leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “I said he needs to remember. Our babies are grown now. We have to step back. Let them fumble through it. You were right earlier. Genie is carving her own path. I have to let her. Just like you have to let Jameson be.”

She studied him for a long moment, her sharp eyes softening with something close to gratitude. “You always know how to put things into perspective.” she said quietly.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Not always. But I’ve learned a thing or two along the way.”

Anaïs smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. “Thank you, Kendrick. For caring. About me. About Jamie.”

His gaze lingered on her, the words he wanted to say still caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded, his voice steady. “Always. You know that.”

The jazz in the background shifted to a slow, soulful tune, filling the quiet between them. For a moment, Kendrick let himself imagine what it might have been like if things had turned out differently—if they’d found a way to make it work all those years ago. But as Anaïs’s smile lingered, he knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be, even if it wasn’t the way he’d once hoped.

Genie hummed softly to herself as she rearranged the clothes in her suitcase. Her little family vacation was set. They left in two days and Genie was ready. Her father promised to drop in for a couple of days — he had a business meeting at the end of the week so he wouldn’t be with them the full week but Friday and Saturday was good enough for Genie. It had been a while since she got to spend completely uninterrupted time with him and she was excited.

It was even better that EJ’s mother and sister agreed to come. When EJ suggested they get their families together, Genie immediately considered inviting Imani. Just as soon as the thought came, it left. They were slowly getting back to where they used to be. Inviting her to be on a snowy mountain with her, EJ, and other people she didn’t know seemed…excessive. But Genie couldn’t help but wonder if they should invite more people.

Namely...Jameson. He was her family. But inviting Jameson meant he would probably bring Camille and Genie felt like that was taking a side against Imani. She didn't want to do that so she made due with her father and EJ's family.

As she tugged the sleeve of some fabric from her closet, she realized that it wasn’t hers. It had to be EJ's. They were getting down to the wire. Their flight left tomorrow and waiting til the last minute to pack hadn't been her brightest idea but she was getting it done. She should have just thrown it back into the closet but it was one of his favorites. She decided to be a good, mindful girlfriend and pack it for him. His suitcase was already prepared but she dragged it out of the closet, unzipped it, and flipped the heavy case open. Humming to herself, she unzipped one section and began folding the jacket. Her hand hit something hard when she wedged it inside. A box?

Genie pulled the jacket out and tossed it aside, reaching back into the section and grasping the box. It was small, made out of black velvet, and heavy.

Her heart stopped.

She didn’t mean to open it, not really, but her hands moved on their own, trembling as she flipped the top. Inside was a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the sunlight streaming through the window. A gorgeous two stone ring. One of the large pear shaped diamonds was pink. The other was a brilliant white. The band ensured the diamonds would circle the finger of anyone who put it on. It wasn't the usual ring but it was perfect. For her. She gasped so loud that she started to choke on her own spit.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her breath hitching.

This wasn’t just any ring. It was the ring. EJ was going to propose.

Her pulse thundered in her ears as she snapped the box shut and set it on top of his suitcase like it was a live grenade. She stared at it for a long moment, her thoughts swirling. Was it too soon? Were they ready for this? Did he even know what he was doing? Her panic only grew as the minutes ticked by. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and opened her messages. There was only one person she could think to text.

[ Genie ]: imani, i need you.[ Genie ]: i think ej is going to propose.[ Genie ]: i found the ring. i’m losing my shit

The dots indicating Imani was typing appeared almost immediately.

[ Mani Mani ❤️]: breathe, genie. where did you find it? [ Genie ]: in his suitcase. we're going on a trip. but i wasn’t snooping, i swear![ Mani Mani ❤️]: i know you weren’t. just…what do you want to do?

Genie stared at the ring again, her chest tightening. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. She loved EJ. He was the kindest, most supportive man she’d ever been with. He was loving, he was protective. He took care of her emotionally and physically. Nobody had ever made her toes curl and her face hurt from smiling. Nobody but him. But marriage? That was a big step. They had only been together for a year and hadn't even moved in together. 

What if he proposed and realized it was a mistake? How would she recover from losing him? What if they got engaged and he changed? It was terrifying. Her thumbs flew across the screen.

[ Genie ]: i need you to come to aspen with us. [ Mani Mani ❤️]: what? [ Genie ]: please, mani! i think he’s going to ask me there, and i need you. i can’t do this alone.

The dots appeared again, then disappeared. Genie held her breath, waiting. Finally, Imani’s response came.

[ Mani Mani ❤️]: i'll be there

Relief flooded through Genie but she didn’t even have time to text a response – she heard EJ calling for her from the living room. Her eyes went wide as she immediately dropped her phone and grabbed the box, shoving it back where she got it from and hastily tried to close up his suitcase. “I’m up here, love!”

She heard him come her way and barely had enough time to shove the heavy case back into the closet before he entered the bedroom. Genie played off her breathlessness by stretching her arms over her head and then to the left.

“...What you doing?” he asked her, humor evident in his tone. “...Yoga.” she replied nervously. “You acting weird,” he said bluntly. “What happen?” “Nothing!” Genie replied quickly, waving her hands in front of him. “Where you been?”

EJ raised an eyebrow at her abrupt change in conversation but he walked further into the room and lifted his head. Genie knew exactly what it meant. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. He grinned at her, pleased that they seemed to have their very own shorthand.

“That yoga stuff works?” he asked curiously. She noticed that he didn’t answer her question but Genie didn’t press. Instead, she decided to distract. “Yes, sir.” Genie replied, pressing a kiss to his nose. EJ immediately knew where things were going. “Do you want to try it out?” She smirked when EJ’s eyes went wide and he nodded his head slowly.

"What's this position called?" he asked her gruffly, holding on tightly to Genie as she twisted her hips. Her suitcase was left halfway pulled together, all thoughts of the ring stuffed in his bag was lost. Genie was lost. Her jaw dropped as she clung to EJ, her hand tightly against the back of her head as she ground down onto him.

"You don't hear me talking to you?" He asked her and her breathing hitched. "Um...It's--It's called the Lotus." She whispered, leaning in for a kiss. EJ reared back, depriving her of it.

"Focus, Genie. This is important," he said, his gaze intense but lips quirking into a teasing grin. Even when they weren't playing, EJ was perpetually in control. Genie's heart raced, wondering how to get what she wanted from him.

Instead of kissing her, he stared at where they were joined, a blissful expression on his face. His eyes were teasing but hooded. Without hesitation, he wedged his hand between them. Genie tensed and cried out, her back arching.

"You want to know something?" EJ asked her and Genie started nodding, not even cognizant of the fact that he was asking her something. "I believe you." He placed his hands against her hips, halting her movements and Genie's eyes went wide with panic. It felt so fucking good. Why was he stopping her?

The two struggle for control. EJ keeping her still with strong hands and Genie whimpering and begging lowly. He pressed his full lips to her ear, talking lowly as he controlled the pace and sank into her slowly. "You take this shit so good." He praised her. Pride raced through Genie's body as she stopped struggling, willing to do anything to get his approval. "You so wet for me."

The words sank into her bones and filled her body with warm satisfaction. Each time his pelvis ground against hers, she felt heat filtering in and spreading straight to her clit. A moan escaped her lips with every thrust -- as if he pushed it out of her. She was nothing but putty in his hands.

Her breathy little whimpers doing more to drive him crazy than anything. "Baby, you gotta be quiet or I swear it's gonna be over before I'm ready."

Genie really did try to stop but she couldn't. The sounds came from her with ease. It was like he had asked her to stop breathing -- she would if she could for him...but she couldn't.

EJ lifted a hand from her hips, covering her mouth with his palm. Another came up, pressing to the nape of her neck as he began to thrust into her with earnest. Each glide in brought a grunt from him and a gasp from her. She was entirely in his control and it was addictive.

Her orgasm was immediate and so visceral that it sent a shudder through Genie. Heat blossomed in her stomach before spreading out all over her body. She screamed behind his hand, tingles spreading out all over her body. Even as she flew into the clouds, EJ kept her grounded. He wasn't done yet.

"I love you." he growled.

Genie mumbled something behind his hand, her eyes drifting closed as she clung tightly to him. EJ lifted his hand just in time to hear her mumble it again.

"I love you more."

A rumble of satisfaction came from his chest and he rested his forehead against hers. "I'm gonna come inside you and then I'm going to make love to you again." He promised her, his lips hovering against her own. They grazed one another and Genie panted against his. Finally -- he let her kiss him. It started slow, building the more she realized that he wouldn't pull away. Soft and timid turned into wet and messy. The wilder she got, the harder he thrust into her.

He didn't pick up the pace. He kept it deep and slow -- with an intimacy that made her feel glorious...and guilty. She had doubted their love for each other in a brief moment. Sex didn't make a marriage but in that moment...Genie knew that she could trust EJ to take care of her. Always.

When he came, he kept his promise. It was inside her. And within ten minutes, he had flipped over and they were starting all over again.

Aspen was gorgeous. White snow everywhere, a large expansive house in the hills. EJ had gone all out for Genie and Jameson was glad. He couldn’t wait to watch them get engaged. He and Camille arrived the day after his friends but they were greeted almost immediately. Genie seemed flustered but was polite to Camille and it pleased Jameson. He had told Cami everything about his family. About how he considered Genie his sister and Kendrick, Genie’s father, better than his own father. She knew it was major that she was meeting either of them.

It was shaping up to be a perfect trip even before he and Camille finished packing their bags…before EJ burst into their room. He didn’t knock and Jameson immediately knew something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”

“Jamie,” EJ said, slightly out of breath. “Let me talk to you in the hall.” “What?” “The hall, nigga!”

Jameson reluctantly followed, closing the door tightly behind him. He didn’t even get to ask again. EJ told him bluntly. “Imani is here.”

Jameson stiffened. “What do you mean, she’s here?”

“She’s staying here. Genie asked her to come.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His mind raced with questions—Why would she come?—but he forced himself to stay calm. EJ launched into an explanation about it all being a mixup but Jameson didn’t care. All he could focus on was the fact that he couldn’t fuck this trip up.

“It’s fine,” he said after a moment, though his voice was tight. “We can get along for a few days.”

EJ gave him a skeptical look. “You sure? Because this can’t get messy. This is important, Jamie.”

“I know, man. I’m not gonna fuck this up for y’all.” Jameson promised, “I’m gonna ask Cami what she wants to do. If she wants to stay, we’ll stay and everything will be cool. I swear.”

EJ hesitated, then nodded. “I’ma trust you to mean that.” “I do. It’s alright, man.”

He did his best reassuring EJ, noticing that even though he agreed — he didn’t relax. He was nervous and Jameson’s shit with Imani was making it worse. When he returned to the room, Camille immediately pounced on him.

“Everything okay?,” she asked.

Jameson took her hand, sighing softly. He couldn't break it to her gently. The best way was to put it out there. “Imani’s here,” he said carefully. “She’s staying. Genie called and invited her.”

Camille’s expression didn’t change much, but her grip on his hand tightened slightly. “Oh.”

“She didn’t know we were coming, baby. EJ didn’t tell her. Genie wouldn’t do something like that on purpose.” He said softly, rushing to reassure her that Genie wasn’t on some mean girl shit. Sure, he and Imani had agreed to be friends but anyone would know that this would be an awkward situation for them. “I didn’t know she was coming,” Jameson added quickly. “So it’s up to you. If you want to go, we’ll go. If you’re okay with staying, we’ll stay.”

Camille lifted her gaze to him, giving him a soft smile. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to miss a family trip.” She rose to the tips of her toes, kissing his lips softly. “We’re staying.”

Relief washed over him, but it was tinged with guilt. She trusted him and he was still struggling with his feelings for Imani. It made him want to be better for her. He didn’t want to give her any reason to regret believing in him.

“Thank you,” he said, kissing her back. “Let’s go down and say hi to her. Get this over with.”

She agreed and the two of them finished unpacking. Jameson took her hand in his own and they walked downstairs together. He was doing his best to prepare and in his head, he ran through everything he needed to do. Don’t stare at her. Don’t hug her. Don’t smile at her too long. Shake her hand, give her a nod, and welcome her. Then leave.

It didn’t take long until he saw her. Once they hit the bottom of the stairs, there she was. Strutting through the living room, not holding a damn thing in her hands. All her bags were with the tall man that Jameson immediately recognized — and his stomach dropped into his feet. Every bit of the pep talk he had given himself faded. He felt annoyance filter through his body as his stomach twisted. Why the fuck would she bring this new ass nigga on a family trip?

She looked up from her phone to see him and froze in her tracks. Jameson had to remind himself not to let Camille’s hand go. “Hey.” he muttered, doing his best to seem friendly and not pissed the fuck off. “EJ told us you were here. We wanted to say hi.”

Imani blinked at him before easily giving him a smile. He hated it almost immediately. “Nobody told me you guys were here but hi.”

“Hi, Imani,” Camille said warmly, her grip on Jameson’s hand steady. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Imani turned to give her a smile. “Nice to see you again too,” she mumbled. She turned to the man behind her and beckoned him forward. “This is Isaiah.”

Jameson lifted his free hand, offering it to the man even as he had several bags in his hands. Never let it be said he couldn’t play nice. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Isaiah replied, putting a bag down to grasp Jameson’s hand tightly. His tone was polite but distant, his handshake strong but not insistent. He didn’t seem to think he had anything to prove to Jameson and even the thought of that pissed him off. At least Camille knew Imani was competition.

Jameson glanced at Imani, his heart pounding despite himself. Everyone had lapsed into silence and he knew there wasn’t much more to be said. “We won’t hold you. Just wanted to say hi. Looking forward to the rest of the weekend.” Isaiah gave him a nod, picking up the bag again, and then he did something that pissed Jameson off. It was small, a quick gesture that probably wouldn’t have made him feel a way if he didn’t have feelings for Imani.

Isaiah urged her forward with a pat against her ass. “Let’s get settled in, baby.” He told her. And she listened. She did what he asked, moving forward and giving Jameson and Camille a quick wave. He bit down on his tongue so hard that he could swear he tasted blood. The urge to curse the stranger out so strong that he didn’t know what the fuck was coming over him.

He watched the two start to go up the stairs and a terrible idea occurred to him. One he was ashamed of…but he didn’t stop himself. He peered down at Camille, noticing she seemed a lot more relaxed to see that Imani had brought someone. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.” She said softly. “Mm.” Jameson said noncommittal. He didn’t want to admit that he knew. Instead, he focused on her. He brought both his hands around her waist, pressing to the small of her back. “Let’s go find the hot tub.”

Her eyes went wide. “We just got here. We need to find something to eat.” “I know what I want to eat.” He said softly, making her giggle.

Jameson moved to kiss the side of her head, moving down to her neck. He placed a few kisses there as Camille’s hands came to press to his shoulders…but that wasn’t getting the job done. He dragged his tongue along her skin, pride hitting him when she gave an involuntary whimper. Jackpot.

He peered up towards the stairs. Imani and Isaiah didn’t turn back but he saw her steps falter.

Good. Seeing Imani with someone else stirred something deep and unpleasant in him and part of him wanted her to know she had pissed him off.

Imani didn’t think to ask Genie if Jameson was coming to Aspen. All she wanted to do was be there for Genie. She had failed her so much during the year they had been apart. She knew there was a possibility. He and EJ were thick as thieves. Why wouldn’t he support his best friend as he took that next step with Genie? She needed to be prepared, so she took drastic measures by inviting Isaiah. It may have seemed foolish to invite someone she had only known for a month on a family trip, but she couldn’t bear the thought of facing Jameson and Camille alone. She still didn’t know how Jameson felt about her. Her latest Instagram post generated no response. He didn’t call or text her. There was nothing.

She was starting to think that he moved on for real this time. That he was done with her…until she spotted the glare on his face when he saw Isaiah. He was uncomfortable. Everyone else didn’t see it, but she did. She knew that exact look because it was familiar to her. Jameson further confirmed her suspicion when she spotted his glare at Isaiah after he patted her ass. He was jealous, just like she wanted him to be. It took everything in her not to smirk.

Imani took her victory in stride, trying not to appear too happy as she ascended the steps. She heard the kissing noises, but she paid them no mind. It wasn’t until she heard Camille whimpering that she nearly tripped over her feet. Like clockwork, her temper flared. Imani almost stomped a hole into the stairs with every step she took. Oh, this was how he wanted to play? Well, she could play that game too.

Once she reached the top step, she peered over her shoulder to see if Jameson was still there. He was. Without hesitation, her finger hooked into Isaiah’s belt loop. “Come here, daddy. I packed something special just for you.” She said softly, pulling him towards one of the bedrooms.

Isaiah’s intense gaze locked onto Imani, his dark eyes tracing every curve and contour of her body. He couldn’t help but to bite his lip in anticipation. “Well, what you waiting on, mama? Show me.” She laughed, probably a little too loud. Imani couldn’t see it but she could feel Jameson’s icy glare, it was cold enough to give her frostbite. She reveled in the feeling of power it gave her - she refused to let him have the upper hand over her, not now, not ever. 

Nina Dupree stood in the kitchen, peeking around the corner as she sipped from a mug of coffee. She heard company arriving but before she could go out and greet them -- she heard Jameson's striking voice come down. One look around the corner and she saw the exes come face to face. Her eyes went wide but she didn't say anything. Their voices didn’t carry, but their body language spoke volumes. Jameson was standing with another woman but his gaze consistently strayed to Imani. There was a tension between them that she was confused about how anybody could miss it. Seemed like messy unfinished business.

“Imani is here?!” Ella whispered, peering around the corner and leaning against her mother. Nina jumped, forgetting her daughter was in the kitchen with her. Her phone was in hand, the screen lighting up with a stream of notifications, but her attention was fixed on Jameson and Imani.

“Yes. Did your brother mention that to you?" Ella shook her head, her gaze bouncing back and forth between Jameson and Imani. She gave a low whistle. “Awkward. She's here with someone else?” “Seems like it,” Nina replied.

Ella tilted her head, studying the scene like it was a reality show. “Oh, that's gonna be a mess.”

Nina sighed, her gaze following her daughter’s. She saw the way Jameson’s arm tightened around Camille but his brows furrowed as he looked at the man next to Imani. It was subtle, but Nina caught it. She always did.

Ella leaned back, crossing her arms. “Bet you ten dollars we'll see hella drama this weekend.”

Nina shot her a look. “Ella.”

“What?” Ella grinned. “I’m just saying. You can’t put two people with that much history in the same house and not expect fireworks.”

“This is EJ’s trip,” Nina reminded her firmly. “Let them sort out their mess, but we’re staying out of it.”

Ella shrugged, her thumbs flying across her phone screen. “Fine. But if it gets messy, I’m tweeting it.”

“Little girl,” Nina warned, though her voice was more exasperated than angry.

“I'm playing, Mama.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “Mostly.”

Nina shook her head, but her attention drifted back to Jameson and Imani. The couples were starting to part and she watched Imani head up the stairs with a man in tow. She watched Jameson eyes follow her up even though he was pulling another woman closer and laughing. And then she saw Imani turned around. She saw the look on her face and knew it was going to be some shit with those two for the weekend.

Ella asked her softly, sensing that the tense scene in front of them was already over. “So, what’s the plan? We selling our story to TMZ or what? What about This Just In?”

“Ella Dinah Dupree,” Nina said reprimanded her, turning to face her youngest child, “Our job is to focus on EJ and Genie. This is their trip. Let the others figure out their own problems.”

Ella tsked, already typing something on her phone. “Aight but I already told you what I'm gonna do if they squabble up."

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Amee Vanderpool at SHERO:

Southern Baptists voted overwhelmingly at their national meeting on Tuesday to endorse a formal ban on same-sex marriage, which includes an open call for the United States Supreme Court to reverse a 10-year-old precedent that legalizes gay marriage nationwide. The votes cast on Tuesday came during a gathering of more than 10,000 church representatives at the annual meeting of the nation's largest Protestant denomination, with strategists citing the successful effort that overturned Roe v. Wade as a new working blueprint for the impending battle. The denomination has long opposed gay marriage, but this latest vote Tuesday was the first time its members have affirmed working to end the right on their collective agenda legally. “What we’re trying to do is keep the conversation alive,” said Andrew Walker, an ethicist at a Southern Baptist seminary in Kentucky who wrote the resolution.

In anticipation of this movement, following the loss of abortion protections throughout the country, Democrats worked to enshrine the right to same-sex marriage through legislation by codifying the Respect for Marriage Act in December of 2022. The landmark bipartisan legislation passed the House in a 258-169 vote, with 39 Republicans supporting the measure. That vote was followed by months of negotiations in the Senate, where it passed with the backing of 12 Republicans. “Today is a good day. A day America takes a vital step toward equality. Toward liberty and justice, not just for some but for everyone. Everyone,” then-President Biden said as he signed the bill into law. “Toward creating a nation where decency, dignity, and love are recognized and honored and protected.” But this latest Baptist vote resurrects a decades-long movement that was anticipated following the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn fifty years precedent that provided abortion protections in the United States. While the right to marry your partner is extended in the 10-year-old landmark ruling of Obergefell v. Hodges, these rights have also been codified now through legislation, a protection that Roe v. Wade was not afforded. This extra layer of statutory bonafide will help to protect the right to marry for everyone. Still, the threat of a conservative majority on the Supreme Court overturning established precedent and then using that new law to find a reason to strike down the Congressional protections is very real. The best way to examine the threat is to work backward through the current legal protections and Republican attempts to strip them down. Below are two articles that were published in the lead-up to Democrats passing marriage equality codifications in 2022, and they discuss the impending legal issues as we move forward. There are also links to other articles on this topic at the conclusion below. While it is comforting to know that Obergefell will have an extra layer of codified protections as we move forward in this continuing fight, it is concerning to know that the Conservative plan to dismantle same-sex marriage has not changed.

The Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) voted on Tuesday at their annual meeting in favor of a resolution urging SCOTUS to overturn the nearly 10-year-old Obergefell v. Hodges SCOTUS ruling granting nationwide marriage equality.

See Also:

The Guardian: Southern Baptists endorse repealing the legalization of same-sex marriage in the US

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (3)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, groping, gaslighting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au

Between a rock and a hard place (2)

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

He’s looming over you like a dark shadow. The eternal darkness eating the light left in your life. You must watch him take over every single aspect of your life. Even the clothes you’re wearing.

Today he wants you to wear a floral print satin babydoll dress. The V-neck and back reveal a little too much skin for your liking, and it’s too short, but you don't have a say in what you wear any longer.

“If you are good today, I’ll talk August out of his plan,” Walter nuzzles his face in your neck. He nips at the tender skin, causing a shudder to run through your body. You press your legs together and try to ignore the tingling in your clit.

The bastard with angel eyes has this influence on you. Whenever his brother threatens you, Walter is there to protect you. He hasn’t touched you yet – not the way you expected him to do.

He’s a little more subtle. A little peck here, and gentle massage there. Walter is like a wolf toying with its prey. It’s hard to not fall for his protectiveness and soft words. He’s no better than his brother, but you are less scared of what he’s going to do to you.

“I’ll be good,” you don’t recognize your own voice any longer. It sounds so meek and broken when you dare to speak at all. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs and presses a soft kiss to your neck. “You’ve been so good for me, little lamb. I think you will be my perfect doll to play with soon enough. You shudder again when he moves his hand under your dress to cup your pussy. “No panties, just how I like it.”

“Yes, Sir,” you whisper. You don’t dare to call Walter by his name. He didn’t allow you to do so, and you don’t want to end up in August’s hands because of a stupid mistake. As long as Walter is interested in you, he’ll offer protection. - At least you hope so.

The brothers are both equally evil and vile. Deep down inside you know that Walter is not better than August. But right now, he has you in his clutches, and obedience is your only way to survival.

“Smile, and don’t make a fuss,” Walter tuts while ushering you inside the club. “Relax. I won’t let anyone but August touch you, little lamb.”

You’re not sure you can trust Walter. He smirks like the devil himself as the girls at the club gawk at you in his embrace. 

They don’t know that you are not with him on free terms. He owns you. Body, soul, and life. If not for Walter, you’d be sucking dick at the club like all the other girls.

“They don’t have what you have, lamb,” he muses when you stiffen in his embrace. All the angry looks thrown your way make you nervous. “Jealousy doesn’t suit a woman, you know. I get bored easily and move on to the next girl.”

His words send you spiraling. If he gets bored easily – how long will he protect you from his brother and his plans for you? Will he protect you from August at all? Or will he push you into his brother’s arms tonight and tell him this was all a big joke?

If so, you are the butt of the joke.

“Oh,” is all you get out.

“You are special, of course. A cute little innocent lamb for me to ruing. I have all these plans for you and your ripe body,” Walter doesn’t know that your knees buckle and that you are close to going for a sprint. “Did your husband ever fuck you on a breeding bench? Damn, I bet I can make your legs shake in no time on that thing.”

“No,” you squeak when a hand suddenly gropes your ass. Walter is less subtle and more touchy tonight. “He didn’t want kids.”

“Baby,” Walter dips his head to whisper in your ear, “a breeding bench is for fun, not to get you pregnant. I’m not crazy enough to knock a toy up.”

That’s all you are to Walter. A fragile toy he can use to his liking and break beyond repair.

“OH!” You nod and feel like a fool. You’re so inexperienced when it comes to more than vanilla sex. “I see…”

Your recently deceased husband wasn’t adventurous in the bedroom. A blowjob and he was snoring next to you while you tried to get off, imagining one of those hunks from the awfully written erotic novels you’d love to read.

“Aw, you are so cute and innocent. A pity I didn’t get the chance to plug your flower before your husband came into the picture,” he cups your chin and runs his thumb over your lower lip. You open your mouth and allow him to push his digit into your mouth. “I’ll ruin you and make you my whore.”

You hold his gaze, and lick over his thumb, just like you remember from a juicy scene in one of your novels. He hums and runs his thumb over your tongue.

“Walter,” his brother exasperated, says behind your back. “You’re fucking late!”

“I was on time,” Walter lowers himself to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. “You let us wait. Now I’m in the mood for something sweeter than business.”

August exhales sharply. He still doesn’t like that his brother called dips on you. August crosses his arms over his chest and glares at his brother.

 “Walter,” he grunts. “Can you at least pretend that you are interested in more than a wet cunt.”

“Watch your tongue around my little lamb,” Walter turns around to glare at his brother. “We are here, aren’t we? Let’s go to the VIP area and talk about business. Y/N can keep me company.”

“Fine. Follow me,” August says and jerks his head toward the less crowded area at the club. “If she’s making a scene, she’ll end up in the special room.”

“Such a good girl for me,” Walter praises while you try to remain silent and not squirm in his lap. 

He wanted you to straddle his lap, and to rest your head against his shoulder. Now he’s running his big hand over your back to lull you into safety once again.

“Walter, can you stop playing with your new toy? We came here for business!” August squares his jaw. He doesn’t like that you cling to his brother, nor the fact that his cock strains against his pants at your submissive behavior. 

“I told you,” he murmurs another praise before turning his attention toward his brother, “I won’t do business with that douche. Hansen can get fucked.”

“Hansen knows how to do business,” August bites back. “He’s reliable.”

“He’s a sociopath, brother,” Walter grunts. “You know that. He’s out of control, and last time he didn’t get the job done!”

August sighs deeply but nods. “Fine. The next point on the agenda is your little toy.”

“I won’t let her work at the club,” your self-declared protector growls. “She’s mine. I won’t share with the creeps at your club.”

“Hmm…what about me?” August rises from his seat to stand in front of his brother. He pats your head and smirks. “Is she ready to get spread by two cocks, brother?”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[study-with-aura]

Wednesday, February 5, 2025

I ended up studying through lunch today to get everything done, but at least everything today was more interesting than yesterday when I could barely pay attention to that video because of the monotone dryness of the lecture. Wednesdays are always back-to-back days with few breaks. I do it to myself. I could not read extra for fun, I would not have to practice piano so often, I could only do one lesson on Duolingo instead of trying to complete the quests and making sure I practice for close to 15 minutes each day. There are a lot of things I could simply NOT do, but I do them because I enjoy them even if they take up time I could use to give my brain a break. What can I say? I'm a studyholic. Don't worry, I still know when I need to stop and rest before I get too overwhelmed. I learned that the hard way last year.🦄

Tasks Completed:

Algebra 2 - Reviewed simplifying square roots + learned to add and subtract radicals + practice

American Literature - Copied vocabulary terms + read chapter 16 of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee + answered discussion questions + read about beginning proofreading + read about finding common errors + read some suggestions for proofreading for errors + began making notes for the final draft of my essay

Spanish 3 - Completed worksheet on correct preterit and imperfect verb forms

Bible 2 - Read Esther 5-6

Early American History - Read from The African-American Mosaic about abolition + read David Walker's appeal

Earth Science with Lab - Took gravity quiz (100%) + copied and reviewed vocabulary + picked out my astronomers for my astronomy timeline (due Friday)

Art Appreciation -Completed daily critiquing assignment on The Cestello Annunciation by Sandro Botticelli + listed notes about how to recognize Botticelli's works, his style, and philosophy

Khan Academy - None today but Algebra 2 coursework had it built in for the review again

Duolingo - Studied for approximately 15 minutes (Spanish + French + Chinese) + completed daily quests

Piano - Practiced for three hours

Reading - Read pages 1-107 of All the Fighting Parts by Hannah V. Sawyerr (verse poetry)

Chores - None today

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (1 John 5)

Group Bible Study + Devotional (Exodus 19-21)

Ballet

Variations

Journal/Mindfulness

[pyrokineticwarrior]

🌄 Verse V – Gold in the Blood, Fire in the Veins 🌄 “Some men chase fortune. Others run from the noose. He’s done both—and now he’s got nowhere left to run.”

The year is 1851. The rivers run thick with silt and the promise of gold, but Devlin Sinclair isn’t here for promises. He’s a drifter, a former gunslinger with too many names and one hell of a past. They say he once shot a man just to keep warm in the Sierras. They say he talks to ghosts when the whiskey runs dry. They say he’s looking for something buried deeper than gold—something that burned his soul to ash long ago.

From lawless mining towns to bone-white deserts and timber-choked trails, Devlin walks a line between legend and wanted man. He can pan a riverbed by touch. Track a man through hell. And when the firelights flicker at the edge of camp, he’s the one still awake—waiting for whatever hunts in the dark.

Devlin Sinclair | Drifter, gunslinger, gold hunter, fire-walker Location: California frontier, Yukon trails, ghost towns, mountain camps Genre: Historical fiction | Frontier gothic | Found family | Dusty vengeance | Slow-burn romance

Looking for: – Fellow gold hunters, rival claim jumpers, or desperate settlers – Lawmen with grudges, bounty hunters with old ties – Witches in the woods, saloon girls with secrets, preachers on the edge – Runaway nobles, old war comrades, orphans clinging to legends – The person who saw him before he became myth

Thread ideas: – A cave-in traps you together with more than gold in the dark – He saves you from an ambush—but demands a strange price – You find his name in a dead man’s journal – A haunted mining camp offers fortune… and a reckoning – Someone recognizes him in the saloon, and pulls a gun

Seeking character-driven plots with grit, ghost stories, betrayal, and tenderness found in brutal places. Long-form preferred. Lovers, enemies, or something in between. Let’s make gold burn.

DM or comment if you’re ready to strike a vein—or strike a match.

[papaya2000s]

Old Asian Cinema Masterlist:

I have a passion for watching a wide variety of film media, including movies, TV shows, documentaries, and musicals. My extensive viewing experience spans both classic and contemporary works, with a particular enthusiasm for 20th-century history and films (there will be posts about some 21st-cetury (mostly 2000s-2010s) cinema but my mane focus in the 20th-century). Here, I plan to embark on this journey, and I hope to discover new content to enjoy. While my focus will primarily be on films from Asia, I may occasionally discuss Western movies as well. I hope you enjoy the exploration!

Please note that these posts are meant for both educational and entertainment purposes only. As I delve into this narrative, I am also learning, and I appreciate any feedback on inaccuracies or omissions, which I will try and address promptly.

It is important to recognize that the film titles highlighted in red serve as warnings for viewers, indicating that they are age-restricted (potentially rated 13, 15, or 18+) and may contain graphic and mature content. If anyone is considering watching any of the films that I have mentioned, I recommend researching and watching their trailers beforehand.

Old Korean Cinema:

History of Korean Cinema - Put on Hold!

Movies:

A Bloodthirsty Killer/ A Devilish Homicide (살인마) (1965) - Put on Hold!

Let's meet at Walker Hill (워커힐에서 만납시다) (1966) - Put on Hold!

Waikiki Brothers (와이키키 브라더스) (2001) - Put on Hold!

Over the Rainbow (오버 더 레인보우) (2002) - Put on Hold!

Emergency Act 19 (긴급조치 19호) (2002) - (08/08/2024)

Crossroads of Youth (청춘의 십자로) (1934) - (09/12/2024)

Marrying the Mafia (가문의 영광) (2002) - Put on Hold!

Hyperbola of Youth (청춘쌍곡선) (1956) - Put on Hold!

Madame Freedom (자유부인) (1956) - Put on Hold!

The Record (찍히면 죽는다) (2000) - Put on Hold!

A Taxi Driver (택시운전사) (2017) - Put on Hold!

Viva Freedom! (자유만세) (1946) - Put on Hold!

A Flower in Hell (지옥화) (1958) - Put on Hold!

A Female Boss (여사장) (1959) -Put on Hold!

The Housemaid (하녀) (1960) - Put on Hold!

Libera Me (리베라 메) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Bichunmoo (비천무) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Sweet Dream (미몽) (1936) - Put on Hold!

Interview (인터뷰) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Nightmare (가위) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Obaltan (오발탄) (1961) - Put on Hold!

Oasis (오아시스) (2002) - Put on Hold!

Il Mare (시월애) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Ditto (동감) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Phone (폰) (2002) - Put on Hold!

Series:

Something Happened in Bali (발리에서 생긴 일) (2004) - Put on Hold!

Did We Really Love? (우리가 정말 사랑했을까) (1999) - Put on Hold!

Until the Azalea Blooms (진달래꽃 필 때까지) (1998) - Put on Hold!

I'm Sorry, I Love You (미안하다, 사랑한다) (2004) - Put on Hold!

Star in My Heart (별은 내 가슴에) (1997) - Put on Hold!

The Last Match (마지막 승부) (1994) - Put on Hold!

Eyes of Dawn (여명의 눈동자) (1991-1992) - Put on Hold!

Dinosaur Teacher (공룡 선생) (1993-1995) - Put on Hold!

You and I (그대 그리고 나) (1997-1998) - Put on Hold!

Wast Palace (서궁; 西宮) (1995) - Put on Hold!

Sandglass (모래시계) (1995) - Put on Hold!

First Love (첫사랑) (1996-1997) - Put on Hold!

Jealousy (질투) (1992) - Put on Hold!

Papa (파파) (1996) - Put on Hold!

Animated (Manhwa) Series & Film:

Lexa (Series) (레카) (2001-2002) - Put on Hold!

Sky Blue (Film) (원더풀 데이즈) (2003) - Put on Hold!

Yobi, the Five Tailed Fox (Film) (천년여우 여우비) (2007) - Put on Hold!

Aachi & Ssipak (Film) (아치와 씨팍) (2006) - Put on Hold!

Robot Taekwon V (Film) (로보트 태권 V) (1976) - Put on Hold!

Oseam (Film) (오세암) (2003) - Put on Hold!

Old Japanese Cinema:

History of Japanese Cinema - Put on Hold!

Documentaries:

The Story of Yanagawa's Canals (柳川堀割物語) (1987) - (21/06/2025)

Mockumentaries:

A type of film or television show depicting fictional events, but presented as a documentary.

Noroi: The Curse (ノロイ) (2005) - Put on Hold!

Saiko! The Large family (ニッポンの大家族) (2009) - Put on Hold!

Saiko! The Large family 2 (ニッポンの大家族 2) (2003) - Put on Hold!

Movies:

The Aimed School / School in the Crosshairs (ねらわれた学園) (1981) - Put on Hold!

Ju-On: The Grudge (呪怨/じゅおん) (2002) - Put on Hold!

Kawaidan (怪談) (1964) - Put on Hold!

Series:

Mr. Hiiragi's Homeroom (3年A組-今から皆さんは、人質です) (2019) - Put on Hold!

Hitotsu Yane no Shita/ "Under One Roof" (ひとつ屋根の下) (1993-1997) - Put on Hold!

Animated (Anime) Series & Film:

Animal Olympic Games (動物オリムピック大会) (1928) - Put on Hold!

The Bunbuku Teapot (文福茶釜) (1928) - Put on Hold!

The Dull Sword (なまくら刀) (1917) - Put on Hold!

Shiobara Tasuke (塩原多助) (1925) - Put on Hold!

Old Chinese Cinema:

History of Chinese Cinema - Put on Hold!

Journey to the West (西游记) (Background) - Episode 1 - (03/04/2025)

Journey to the West (西游记) - Episode 2 - Put on Hold! ( / /2025)

Movies:

Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢) (1944) - Put on Hold!

Series:

Nothing Yet!

Animated (Donghua) Series & Film:

Magic Brush/ Ma Liang and his Magic Brush (Short Film) (神筆/ 神筆馬良) (1955/1954) - Put on Hold!

Old Taiwanese Cinema:

History of Taiwanese Cinema - Put on Hold!

Movies:

The Tag-Along (紅衣小女孩) (2015) - Put on Hold!

Detention (返校) (2019) - Put on Hold!

Soul (失魂) (2013) - Put on Hold!

Series:

Hanazakarino Kimitachihe/ "The tricks of boys & girls" (花樣少年少女) (2006) - Put on Hold! 

The Prince Who Turns into a Frog (王子变青蛙) (2005) (Watching) - Put on Hold!

The Magicians of Love (愛情魔髮師) (2006) - Put on Hold!

Meteor Garden (流星花園) (2001) - Put on Hold!

ToGetHer (愛就宅一起) (2009) - Put on Hold!

Animated (Donghua) Series & Film:

Legend of the Sacred Stone (Film) (聖石傳說) (2000) - Put on Hold!

Old Hong Kong cinema:

Movies:

Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢) (1944) - Put on Hold!

Double Vision (雙瞳) (2002) - Put on Hold!

Series:

Nothing Yet!

Animated (Donghua) Series & Film:

DragonBlade: The Legend of Lang (Film) (龍刀奇緣) (2005) - Put on Hold! 

Cyber Weapon Z (Series & Short Film (OVA)) (超神Z) (1993) - Put on Hold!

Old American Cinema:

Movies:

Nothing Yet!

Series:

Ensign O'Toole - Summary & Ep 1-12 (1962-1963) - (26/10/2024)

Ensign O'Toole - Ep 13-32 (1962-1963) - (09/12/2024)

Bonanza (1959-1973) - Put on Hold!

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

This is a newly compiled list of artists, including actors, actresses, film directors, painters, and writers. As the list is still being developed, I will refrain from posting about any specific artists at this time.

Korean Artists from the 20th Century

Japanese Artists form the 20th Century

---------------------------More Coming Soon!--------------------------

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 9.3

Holidays

Andrew Luck Day (Indiana)

Anniversary of the End of the Second World War (Russia)

Another Luck Unlimited Day

Armed Forces Day (Taiwan)

Beslan Remembrance Day

Brazilian Day

Broadcast Day (South Korea)

Civil Aviation Day (Tajikistan)

Cromwell’s Day

Day of Universal Alarm

Day to Mourn All Manifestations of Sexism

Drexciya Day

Feast of Atqksak (Baffin Land)

Flag Day (Australia)

Foundation Day (San Marino)

Gaura Parba (Nepal)

Harvest Bell Day (a.k.a. Hare Bell)

Levy Mwanawasa Day (Zambia)

Lost Day

Lower Case Letter Day

Memorial Day (Tunisia)

Merchant Navy Day (UK)

Merchant Navy Remembrance Day (Canada)

National Army Day (Moldova)

National Dahlia Day

National Day of Prayer for the Victims of Hurricane Harvey

National Guard Day (Tajikistan)

National High Heels Day

National Holiday of Commemoration (Tunisia)

National Shoot Your Shot Day

National Stephen Day

National Wilderness Day

903 Day (Texas)

Penny Press Day

Richard the Lionheart Day (UK)

Skyscraper Day

Solidarity Against Terrorism Day (Russia)

Tales and Tallows Day (Elder Scrolls)

Teasel Day (French Republic)

That Day I’ll Always Remember (in the song “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone,” by The Temptations)

Tokehega Day (Tokalau, New Zealand)

U.S. Bowling League Day

V-J Day (China)

World Day of Hygiene

Yamashita Surrender Day (Philippines)

Food & Drink Celebrations

Afternoon Tea Time Day

International Rosé Day

National Barbecue Baby Back Ribs Day

National Welsh Rarebit Day

Independence & Related Days

Bir Tawil (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Day of Liberation of Monaco (Monaco)

Irida City Foundation Day (Philippines)

Mexico (Formally Recognized by US; 1923)

Qatar (from UK, 1971)

San Marino (Founded; 301 C.E.)

United States (Formally Recognized by Great Britain; 1783)

Yeesland (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

1st Tuesday in September

Another Look Unlimited Day [Tuesday after 1st Monday]

Camo Tuesday [1st Tuesday]

Play Days begin [Tuesday through Saturday after 1st Monday]

Protect Your Groundwater Day [1st Tuesday]

Taco Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Takeout Tuesday [1st Tuesday of Each Month]

Target Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Tater Tot Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Telephone Tuesday [Tuesday after 1st Monday]

To-Do List Tuesday [1st Tuesday of Each Month]

Tranquil Tuesday [1st Tuesday of Each Month]

Trivia Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Two For Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

World Art Drop Day [1st Tuesday]

Weekly Holidays beginning September 3 (1st Full Week of September)

Play Days (thru 9.7] [Tuesday thru Saturday after Labor Day]

Festivals Beginning September 3, 2024

Barbera Festival (Plymouth, California)

Bigsound (Brisbane City, Australia) [thru 9.5]

Tennessee Soybean Festival (Martin, Tennessee) [thru 9.7]

Van Buren County Livestock Show & Fair (Clinton, Arkansas) [thru 9.7]

Feast Days

Aigulf (Christian; Martyr)

Akwambo (Path Clearing Festival; Akan People of Ghana)

Alison Lurie (Writerism)

Armand Vaillancourt (Artology)

Baile and Ailinn (Celtic Book of Days)

Barkley (Muppetism)

Bengt Lindström (Artology)

Bernard de Pailissy (Positivist; Saint)

Cuthburga (Christian; Saint)

Day of Mimi’s Well (Pagan)

Day of Universal Alarm (Shamanism)

Drexciya Day

Gregory I, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Gregory the Great (Christian; Saint)

Hildelitha (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

John Picacio (Artology)

Joseph Wright (Artology)

Lawrence Clark Powell (Writerism)

Lawrence Welk Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Macnisius of Ireland (Christian; Saint)

Maidens of the Four Directions (Hopi Native Americans)

Malcolm Gladwell (Writerism)

Mansuetus of Toul (Christian; Saint)

Marinus (Christian; Saint)

Mort Walker (Artology)

Paul Kane (Artology)

Phoebe (Christian; Saint)

Pius X, pope (Christian; Saint)

Remaclus (Christian; Saint)

Prudence Crandall (Episcopal Church (USA))

Sarah Orne Jewett (Writerism)

Say No to Haggis Day (Pastafarian)

Simeon Stylites the Younger (Christian; Saint)

Wendy O. Williams Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Dismal Day (Unlucky or Evil Day; Medieval Europe; 17 of 24)

Egyptian Day (Unlucky Day; Middle Ages Europe) [17 of 24]

Fatal Day (Pagan) [17 of 24]

Lucky Day (Philippines) [49 of 71]

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [40 of 60]

Premieres

Bosko the Lumberjack (WB LT Cartoon; 1932)

Cartoons Ain’t Human (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1943)

The Cat and the Mermouse (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1949)

Dime to Retire (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?, by Culture Club (UK Song; 1982)

Fantastic Voyage, by Isaac Asimov (Novel; 1966)

From Hare to Heir (WB MM Cartoon; 1960)

Funf Orchesterstucke (Five Pieces for Orchestra), by Arnold Schoenberg (1912)

Funny Business in the Books or The Library Card (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 210; 1963)

Going the Distance (Film; 2010)

The Gold Rush, featuring Flip the Frog (MGM Cartoon; 1932)

Goodnight Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown (Children’s Book; 1947)

Johnny Got His Gun, by Dalton Trumbo (Novel; 1939)

Listen Without Prejudice, by George Michael (Album; 1990)

Machete (Film; 2010)

The Man in the Queue, by Josephine Tey (Novel; 1929) [Alan Grant #1]

Mister and Mistletoe (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1955)

Never Go Back, 18th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2013)

Old Smokey, featuring the Captain and the Kids (MGM Cartoon; 1938)

The Prisoner of Zenda (Film; 1937)

Roll the Bones, by Rush (Album; 1991)

The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, by Yukio Mishima (Novel; 1963)

Scooby-Doo! In Arabian Nights (WB Animated Film; 1994)

Scooby-Doo! Return to Zombie Island (WB Animated Film; 2019)

Search for Tomorrow (TV Soap Opera; 1951)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (Film; 2021)

The Sky Scrapper (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Disney Cartoon; 1928)

Snow Place Like Home (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1948)

Something Happened, by Joseph Heller (Novel; 1974)

Special Delivery Stomp, recorded by Artie Shaw (Song;1940)

Tenet (Film; 2020)

Tom and Jerry: The Fast and the Furry (WB Animated Film; 2005)

Topsy Turvy World, Part 1 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 209; 1963)

The Trouble with Girls (Elvis Presley Film; 1969) [#30]

The Villain Still Pursued Her (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1937)

Ye Happy Pilgrims (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1934)

Today’s Name Days

George, Gregor, Silvia, Sophie (Austria)

Gordana, Grga, Grgur (Croatia)

Bronislav (Czech Republic)

Seraphia (Denmark)

Solveig, Veegi (Estonia)

Soila, Soile, Soili (Finland)

Grégoire (France)

Gregor, Phoebe, Silvia, Sonja (Germany)

Anthimos, Arhontia, Arhontion, Aristea, Ariston, Phoebe, Phoebi, Phevos, Polydoros (Greece)

Hilda (Hungary)

Fausto, Felice, Gregorio, Lorenzo, Marino, Rosa, Teodoro (Italy)

Bella, Berta, Klaudija, Klaudijs, Slaida (Latvia)

Bronislova, Bronislovas, Mirga, Sirtautas (Lithuania)

Alise, Alvhild, Vilde (Norway)

Antoni, Bartłomiej, Bazylissa, Bronisław, Bronisz, Erazma, Eufemia, Eufrozyna, Izabela, Jan, Joachim, Joachima, Manswet, Mojmir, Szymon, Wincenty, Zenon, Zenona (Poland)

Antim, Meletie, Neofit (Romania)

Belo (Slovakia)

Basilisa, Gregorio (Spain)

Alfhild, Alva (Sweden)

Page, Paige, Phebe, Phoebe, Phoebus (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 247 of 2024; 119 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 2 of Week 36 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 4 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Guy-You), Day 1 (Geng-Wu)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 30 Av 5784

Islamic: 28 Safar 1446

J Cal: 7 Gold; Sevenday [6 of 30]

Julian: 21 August 2024

Moon: 1%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 23 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Riquet]

Runic Half Month: Rad (Motion) [Day 12 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 76 of 94)

Week: 1st Full Week of September

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 13 of 32)

Calendar Changes

桂月 [Guìyuè] (Chinese Lunisolar Calendar) [Month 8 of 12] (Osmanthus Month) [Earthly Branch: Rooster Month] (Bāyuè; Eighth Month)

[jedirhydon]

Armament: 8 x Dual Heavy Turbolaser Turrets, 2 x Duel Medium Turbolaser Cannons, 52 - 60 Point-Defense Laser Cannons, 4 x Heavy Proton Torpedo Launchers, 6 x Heavy Tractor Beam Projectors, 1 x Ventral mounted Beam-weapon, 6 or more x Deck Guns.

Length: 1,155 meters.

Height: 249 meters.

Crew: 9,400 (7,400 x Officers, Enlisted Crew, Pilots, 2,000 x Troopers).

Complement: 192 x V-19 Torrent Fighters/Alpha-3 Nimbus-Class V-wing Star Fighters, 192 x Delta-7 or Delta-7B Aethersprite-class Light Interceptors/Eta-2 Actis-class Interceptors, 36 x ARC-170 Starfighters, Unknown x Clone Wars era Z-95 Head Hunter Starfighters, 24 x AT-TE Walkers, 40 x LAAT/i Gunships, Unknown x Other/Landing crafts.

Shielding: Equipped.

Nav Computer: Equipped.

Hyperdrive: Class 1 with a class 15 as a backup.

Engines: 10.

The Venator-class Star Destroyer Cruiser Protector served as the flagship of the 101st Fleet and the personal command ship of Jedi Knight/General Rhydon Kenobi and Fleet Admiral Whitney Thomas. The Protector, like her sister ship, the Peace of the 82nd Attack Fleet, boasted the Sapphire Blue colors of the 101st Legion rather than the standard crimson red colors of the Republic Navy and was always seen leading the 101st Fleet from the front. Because of the leading from the front belief of the Protector's commanding officers, many in the 101st Fleet would find inspiration, and many ships would follow behind their flagship, eager to see the mission through. Throughout the war, The Protector would be home to many individuals in the 101st Legion, from Rhydon Kenobi and his wives: Zarina Kenobi, Taylor Smith, and Sierra Sommers, to Rhydon Kenobi's padawan Zayla Secura, Admiral Whitney Thomas, ARC Commander Zeus, and many others.

Continuing to fight through the Clone Wars, the Protector would see action through battles such as Christophsis, Ryloth, Geonosis, Saleucami, Kamino, Sullust, Umbara, Ringo Vinda, Anaxes, Coruscant, and Mandalore. Through each battle, the Protector was flanked by the Venator Battleships North Carolina, Washington, Arizona II, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, California, Tennessee, Nevada, Oklahoma II, Venator Carriers Enterprise, Yorktown II, Hornet II, Wasp II, and Venator Cruisers Baltimore, Bremerton, Arquitens Light Cruisers Brooklyn and St. Louis, Aspis Destroyer Laffey, and Aiwha-class Stealth Ship Nautilus. An aspect of the Protector that made it an impressive ship was the customization that Rhydon Kenobi and Whitney Thomas put into the ship; not only did the cruiser possess a unique color scheme related to its Jedi commander, but the Protector also boasted an advanced shield, armor, and a better weapons system, than most Venator cruisers. This amount of customization to the Protector was seen by many as unnecessary, but Rhydon Kenobi and Admiral Thomas stood by their decision to increase the ship’s combat capabilities.

The downfall of the Flagship Protector would come from several of the final battles of the Clone Wars, in which the ship’s shields were weakened and her armor damaged. This weakened state would come to be stressed to its limit in the Battle of Coruscant, where despite the Protector being kept in the rear of the battle for once, she would still be struck by enemy fire in the battle. Following the Battle of Coruscant, Rhydon and Admiral Whitney recognized that the Protector would more than likely not survive another battle without extensive repairs, but the need to deploy the remaining ships of the 101st Fleet to Mandalore had forced them to put repairs on hold. Rhydon and Whitney’s decision was due to the remaining half of the 101st Fleet, as well as the 332nd Armada, were already at Mandalore, performing a siege operation against the forces of Darth Maul and the Dark Acolyte Zolan Chan.

Upon their arrival at Mandalore, Rhydon had Admiral Whitney transfer any important equipment, as well as any personal items, to anyone aboard the Protector, onto the Enterprise while he led the ground forces to the planet's surface. This would prove beneficial when Order 66 was initiated, causing several clone crew members to turn against the Jedi leadership. Fortunately, the crew of the Protector, and consequently the Enterprise, and several other important 101st Fleet ships, were loyal to the Jedi and refused to follow Order 66, but this would, however, put a massive target on them, as the ships that were going through with the Order, turned on them. As it was, the Protector was situated in the middle of the Fleet formation, and while a good number of the surrounding ships were Jedi loyal, several ships weren't, thus leading to the 101st flagship being fired upon, causing her already weakened state to be further stressed to the breaking point.

Although Admiral Whitney did her best to keep order on the Protector, she would be forced to order the crew and all other clones and personnel aboard to evacuate the cruiser and quickly make her way to an escape pod. In the end, this would come to be the best choice, as the Protector would explode in a massive fireball as the escape pods and vessels made their way to any nearby Jedi loyal ships, the majority of them, including Admiral Whitney's pod, made their way to the Enterprise. Admiral Whitney Thomas would meet up with Commodore Wilhelm Halsey, who served as the commander of the Enterprise, and Jedi General Rhydon Kenobi, who had returned from the planet's surface after being rescued by female clone troopers, alongside his apprentice Zayla Secura, wife Zarina, and the Jedi loyal male clone troopers. After this, the Venator-class Star Destroyer Carrier Enterprise would take up the torch as the new flagship of the 101st Fleet, continuing to honor the legacy of the Venator-class Star Destroyer Cruiser Flagship Protector.

[kaiasky]

oh this is one of my favorite things. it's not new, it's a thing that wisconsin has been gradually expanding the power of quietly for a long time. (It's also... questionable. there are downsides, like letting conservative governors cut budgets however they went, even if a democratic majority votes for useful spending.) Per wikipedia:

The Governor of Wisconsin is empowered with a sweeping line-item veto. Wisconsin governors have the power to strike out words, numbers, and even entire sentences from appropriations bills. According to scholars, Wisconsin has used four types of extraordinary partial vetoes. The first, the "digit veto", was first used by Governor Patrick Lucey in 1973. In appropriation for $25 million, he vetoed the digit 2, resulting in an appropriation of $5 million. Just two years later, Lucey introduced the "editing veto". In this instance, the word "not" was removed in the phrase "not less than 50 percent", thus resulting in the opposite effect than desired by the legislature. In 1983, an even more extreme version, the "pick-a-letter" or "Vanna White veto" was introduced. Governor Anthony Earl edited a 121-word, five-sentence paragraph down to a one-sentence, 22-word paragraph to change an appeals process from the courts to the Public Service Commission. The final version, the "reduction veto", was introduced in 1993 by Governor Tommy Thompson. This resulted in a legislatively-appropriated amount being reduced arbitrarily by the governor. This unprecedented usage has resulted in eight lawsuits and numerous amendment proposals. In the first lawsuit, State ex. rel. Wisconsin Telephone Co. v. Henry, the Wisconsin Supreme Court recognized the absolute partial veto power of the Governor as long as a workable, complete law remained, stating the governor had "the right to pass independently on every separable piece of legislation in an appropriation bill." In his first two terms as governor, Thompson used 1,500 line-item vetoes to cancel a total of $150 million in spending; none of these vetoes were overridden. The only judicial limitation was Risser v. Klauser, which prohibited the "reduction veto", stating that "the constitution prohibits a write-in veto of monetary figures which are not appropriation amounts." In 2009, a constitutional amendment was passed abolishing the "Vanna White veto". Yet, in 2011, Governor Scott Walker controversially crossed out 116 words in a pension-related section of the budget bill. In 2023, Governor Tony Evers used a line-item veto to extend what was supposed to be a two year temporary funding increase for schools to last over 400 years.

Oh my god Wisconsin's governor just used a line item veto to secure school funding increases every year through 2425. He struck out a line so it now reads "through the 2023-2425 school year". He's allowed to do this lol

[elizaneals]

10 Year Anniversary for modern blues record label “E-H Records LLC” ushering in a new era

E-H Records LLC has contributed to revitalizing traditional blues music, attracting a younger plus wider audience and garnering attention from new listeners who may not typically gravitate towards the genre.

E-H Records LLC, home to acclaimed blues artist Eliza Neals, has significantly impacted the modern blues music industry over the past decade. Founded in 2015 with a vision to promote authentic American roots music with a vintage soul sound while embracing contemporary Detroit rock influences. The label has become a vital platform for independent musicians to follow their trailblazing lead.

One of the primary contributions of E-H Records is its commitment to high-quality music production. Eliza Neals, known for her powerful vocals, songwriting plus dynamic performances, has released several critically acclaimed albums/singles through E-H Records. Her work not only showcases her talent but also elevates the standards of blues production, encouraging other artists to innovate while staying true to the genre’s roots, appealing to a younger audience and attracting many new listeners.

E-H Records has also played a pivotal role in artist development and promotion. Providing a platform for Eliza Neals, the label helps nurture talent, ensuring that unique voices in the blues genre gain visibility. Neals’ collaborations with other musicians, both within and outside the blues community, have fostered cross-genre experimentation, promoting a diversified sound that resonates with all audiences.

Moreover, E-H Records actively engages with digital platforms and social media, recognizing the changing landscape of music consumption. By leveraging these channels, the label has enhanced its outreach, enabling artists to connect directly with fans and building a loyal following.

Lastly, E-H Records LLC has been instrumental in rejuvenating the blues genre, fostering innovation, and ensuring its relevance in the contemporary music landscape. Through Eliza Neals‘ artistry and the label’s commitment to premium quality, E-H Records LLC continues to leave a lasting impact on modern blues, blues-rock and soul music.

Notable Releases: 2015 “Breaking and Entering” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEio1zjcf40

2016 “You Ain’t My Dog No More” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvXT5nyW1Dc

2017 “Another Lifetime” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3yg0meTZG4

2018 “Love Dr. Love” https://elizaneals.bandcamp.com/track/love-dr-love-feat-louis-resto

2019 “Pawn Shop Blues (feat. Popa Chubby, Ian hendrickson-Smith, Michael Leonhart)“ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8v2QkXHErY

2020 “Black Crow Moan (feat. Joe Louis Walker)“ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2d2VwxVQhPI

2021 “Sugar Daddy (feat. King Soloman Hicks)“ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pekGtsTlpI

2022’s “Queen of Nile (feat. Lance Lopez, Peter Keys)” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrlHP9XDce8

2023 “Candy Store“ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Q0RpmEcbSg

2024 “Something’s Better Than Nothing” co-written with Barrett Strong https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FalzMsarkhg

2025 “Colorcrimes” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfTmDCOM83o

RADIO DJ’s https://airplaydirect.com/music/ElizaNeals/

Tour: MARCH 29th  The Iridium  1650 Broadway NYC MARCH 30th  Towne Crier  Beacon NY APRIL 5th  Springing the Blues Festival  Jacksonville FL APRIL 6th  The Funky Biscuit  Boca Raton, FL APRIL 11th  The Bull Run  Shirley, MA

[petrificusx]

— was that frances “fancy” beauchamp verity walker passing through diagon alley? those close to them say they remind them of crisp white lace trimmed dresses and saddle shoes, misty mountain mornings, walking down dusty roads that wind through the holler, lipstick stains on a wine glass, fun house mirrors where the reflection is so skewed you can’t recognize yourself within them, the click of stilettos on a marble floor, fox like grin and cat like eyes, the desire to be someone else for a little while, case files with long black lines redacting the details, diner coffees and breakfast at 3 am, a deep rooted wanderlust, and the impression that somewhere along the way you lost the mere concept of yourself, which i suppose seems to fit that ilvermorny (thunderbird) alumnus. they’re actually pretty resourceful, perceptive, and deceitful for a twenty-six year old, but i wonder if it serves them well when working as a socialite MACUSA operative. rumor has it that the pureblood halfblood (metamorphmagus) has stayed neutral… for now. i wouldn’t have guessed… but this is a conversation we should be having somewhere else.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: V█████ ██ W█████ Frances Beauchamp NICKNAME(S): Fancy CODENAME: Thirteen AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 26, █████ ██ ████ c. 1952 GENDER: Ciswoman PRONOUNS: She/Her HOMETOWN: Charleston, South Carolina ████████, A█████████ BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood H███b████ (m█████████████) SCHOOL/HOUSE: Homeschooled I█████████ / T██████████ ALIGNMENT: Neutral

CASE FILE

MAGICAL CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA DEPARTMENT OF LAW ENFORCEMENT • “THE BUREAU” CONFIDENTIAL RECORDS CONCERNING BUREAU INTELLIGENCE OFFICER GS-0123 W█████, V█████ J. CODENAME “Thirteen”.

The following is a report regarding aforementioned MACUSA Intelligence Officer W█████, hereby identified in the record as “Thirteen”, assigned to Case Number FB30194-68a, “Operation United Unrest”. Debriefing for the mission occurred at 0600 hours on the 12th of November, 1978 at FORT ROUGAROU outside New Orleans, Louisiana. Following reports of suspicious activity and civil unrest in neighboring Wizarding United Kingdom on the evening of the 31st of October, 1978, “SAMHAIN”, MACUSA Law Enforcement Agency known as “The Bureau” opened case FB30194-68a to investigate the growing situation across the Atlantic. Thirteen has been dispatched as a result, to investigate and report back intel on any conflict arising in the United Kingdom, including reconnaissance on any factions involved. Along with mission debriefing, Thirteen was equipped with a MACUSA issued wireless, a case file on what is known so far, and identification papers, including Passport and Proof of Pureblood Lineage. All other debriefing documents have been disposed of.

THE COVER: Frances Beauchamp.

Aged 26, Frances Dorothea Beauchamp is the 7th daughter of Businessman (and MACUSA associate) Leland and wife Magnolia Beauchamp. Pureblood socialites, the former is the owner of the largest Moonstone depository in the continental US and the latter a former competitor in the Miss Mallowsweet USA Beauty Pageant. Both parties have been debriefed and have offered valuable information on the Beauchamp family, including any records pertaining to their pureblood lineage [ as the family is keen on genealogy ] which have been copied and doctored in order to solidify the cover. They are unaware that Thirteen is not a pureblood. Born and raised outside of Charleston, South Carolina, at the family property of Verdant Vale, so named for the oak trees choked in Spanish Moss lining the property, Frances Beauchamp, referred to as “Fancy” by her family and closest associates, is the youngest of 7 daughters born to the Moonstone Tycoon and his former Beauty Queen wife. Like the other 6, Fancy was homeschooled instead of sent away to Ilvermorny School (or the “liberal Yankee academy” as we have advised Thirteen to express on occasion in the correct deflection as her “father” would). Teachers included some of the best scholars in the US, but Fancy is not particularly gifted in spell casting as a result (much to the chagrin of Thirteen). She’s the youngest, and therefore most spoiled and beloved member of the family. She refers to father Leland, like all the women in the Beauchamp family, as “Big Daddy” and is his undisputed favorite. Fancy has never left South Carolina, except for maybe once to New York City. She’s spent the last month and a half vacationing in Europe, preceding the trip to London with quick stops in Spain, Italy, France, and Germany. She will have a prolonged stay in the UK as she attempts to mingle with pureblood society, clearly in search of a pure and wealthy husband to appease her equally influential father.

THE MISSION: Thirteen’s task is to infiltrate London’s Pureblood High Society. Intel recovered from field agents have revealed a penchant for blood purity and traditionalist values which we believe may be connected with the terrorist group at the center of the conflict arising in the UK. Likewise it seems a resurgence group has organized and is attempting to foil these plans. While Thirteen is to investigate these leads, her main goal is to associate with the former group and provide intel on what she can discern about their plans. Specifically, Thirteen is to discover any intentions for a westward expansion of their operation. With the 1980 election year incoming, The Bureau thinks it’s imperative that any plans of bringing the conflict to the west be terminated before they begin.

DEBRIEFING NOTES: As senior officer and her handler, MACUSA Intelligence Officer GS-0123 Agent Six has conducted the debriefing with Thirteen. Here are his notes

• Thirteen was recovered on the 10th of November, 1978 from a mission in Croatia and taken back by Portkey to Fort Rougarou in Louisiana in order to be debriefed on new mission assignment. Agent seems hesitant to return to work after having a plentiful 48 hour cooldown window after the last mission.

• Agent is displeased with the cover story, especially needing to “dumb down” her casting abilities. She seems to think being a more able caster will better her chances at infiltration. We’ve informed her that her duty isn’t to become a member of the subject’s ranks but instead to become associated. Feedback received; “That’s boring.”

• Thirteen has been more concerned with cutting time off her Sentence than the details of her cover and mission. At the question of “whether or not time has been reduced from her sentence” we have informed Thirteen that an additional 3 to 5 years are being considered following a report that she impersonated a Hotel Employee on her recent mission in order to access a safe with guest valuables. While her attempts to steal were not successful, The Bureau is reviewing the situation and how it will affect the deal made with MACUSA on the pending criminal charges against Thirteen and her associates, the W█████ family. Agent has been informed that she will have a partner on the new mission for this reason. She was very displeased by this fact.

• Thirteen has been debriefed on new regulations regarding the misuse of extraordinary abilities by any intelligence officers. Namely, the reconstructed regulations on metamorphmagus abilities after the incident at the hotel in Croatia. Several hours of the debriefing was dedicated to crafting the image for the cover, and stressing that Thirteen is to only use her abilities within the frame of the mission. Any misuse will result in additional years added to sentencing, depending on the severity of the misuse.

• Agent was given instructions to access Safe House 034 in the Scottish Highlands, and a Wireless auto-tuned to MACUSA frequencies. Thirteen will receive important communication over the wireless at the same time every day, and is to report to Safe House 034 on Thursdays, local time 2300 hours to meet with field agents for weekly check ins, debriefings, and interviews, unless any event pertaining to the mission interferes with the check in.

• Thirteen has been given itinerary for a stay at a pub and inn called The Leaky Cauldron under her Bureau assigned alias. She’s to stay there the first week and a half of her stay in London while the “penthouse apartment” is under final walkthroughs and construction. Leaky Cauldron is an epicenter of wixen activity, Thirteen is to spend as much time as possible in the common areas to get primary intel on the sociopolitical situation and to gather facts on the members of society through conversation with the locals.

FIELD NOTES: Thirteen has been provided with files and notes kept by field agents who were involved in the early investigations. Some of their findings include photographs of the symbol that appeared over the sky in Hogsmeade on the evening of Samhain, clippings from local newspapers The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler reporting on the incident, various flyers found in Diagon Alley and a corresponding journal page of numbers lifted off particular flyers (perhaps a code, yet to be deciphered), and most recently an invitation to an event at St. Mungo’s Hospital as well as a report of the ruckus at the end of the night, as observed by an inside source. Thirteen is to study this information prior to landing in London and is expected to use the notes to her advantage.

Date of Departure is set for November 28th, to arrive same day via Trans Atlantic Porkey traveling to the Safe House 034 in Upper Hogsfield, to then spend approximately three nights at The Hogs Head Inn, a pub if disreputable reputation in neighboring Hogsmeade, KEEPING A LOW PROFILE, until Thirteen is set to arrive, undercover as Ms. Beauchamp, in London at The Leaky Cauldron on December 1st, 1978, at approximately 0930 hours.

This record, and all files associated with case FB30194-68a will shortly be destroyed and stricken from all MACUSA databases, as is The Bureau way.

CLOSED.

BIOGRAPHY

Born on a stormy evening somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains, Verity Jo Walker was the last born into a family of witches who would do whatever it took to survive. A mistake that serves as the consequence for when things with a No-Maj mark had gone a bit too far for con artist Serenity Walker, the family had initially no expectations of this new member. A baby was useless to the women until it had the intelligence to take part in their schemes, and so Verity had shown little promise to them as an infant. That was until they noticed something off about the baby. While most wixen children didn’t show signs of magic until closer to puberty, there was instantly something different about baby Verity. It was aunt Chastity who had noticed it, when she was only a few months old. The shift in eye color when the baby looked at very specific things, taking in the rainbow world around her. And as she grew, the ability manifested in more ways. Metamorphmagus. The Walker women had been blessed with a metamorphmagus, a fact which suddenly changed their outlook on the additional mouth to feed. Suddenly, baby Verity had seemed less a burden and more an opportunity.

An opportunity to up their game.

It had been several years before Verity would be dragged into the life that her mother Serenity, and her aunts Charity and Chastity had been involved in. Ironic, given the meanings of their names, but the Walker women had lead a life of crime, with rap sheets decorated with colorful charges. Theft, fraud, trespassing, you name it and they probably committed it. Even worse were the rumors that followed them from town to town as they moved all along the holler. Appalachia was full of haints and cryptids, but it created a whole other problem when the townsfolk were rightly labeling you witches. Laws prohibiting exposure of the wixen community to the no-maj had not stopped the Walker women from using their magic to exploit lonely, lovesick men, but the second a mark was sucked dry, or the rumors got too strong, the women packed up as many of their belongings into their Dodge Charger and beat up Chevy and were back on the road, following along the mountains to the next sorry town and Tom, Will or Billy to con out of his life savings. And curled up in the backseat was Verity and the only person in the world who truly looked after her: Her elder sister, Amity.

Despite the way the Walker sisters were raised, they did have a charming and happy childhood, made so mostly by themselves. While the Walker women were busy on whatever project they’d set themselves to, it ultimately was up to Amity and Verity to entertain themselves and care for each other. So they played out in the woods, in places most would warn you from wandering. Being magical perhaps made them emboldened, but Amity’s knowledge and love of magical creatures also made the world seem a little less scary. Verity would follow after her sister, learning all about the mystical beasts that called the foothills their home, as well as about vegetation and how to garden. She didn’t take after these as well as Amity, but still enjoyed their day to day adventures in the garden and beyond. She had been mostly isolated, her mother concerned with anyone discovering the metamorphmagus abilities she possessed, ones that sometimes presented themselves similarly to a mood ring. Her natural dark hair sometimes suited Verity best when she was moody, a flaming red when she felt angry, and some more unnatural colors as other emotions persisted. It would bring up too many questions if anyone bore witness to her quick changing tresses. Sequestered in their mountain home, wherever they went, it was easy to keep their prized chameleon out of the public eye. That was until she could be useful.

Verity’s life of crime didn’t start until her elder sister Amity had started attending school. At first she had a very simple job — they taught the much too young girl how to drive and required her to be a getaway driver if the situation arose. As she grew into adolescence and her abilities became more controlled, Verity was soon using her abilities to morph into whoever was needed for a job. Masquerading as the local general shop’s manager to take some cash from the register, or as a teller to get access to a cash drawer at the bank. Whatever they needed — a promise that got scarier the closer she’d gotten to adulthood. Such fears were stifled when, just like her sister, Verity was to attend Ilvermorny. Sorted into Thunderbird, ( something she would not understand until she was an adult ) the girl had mostly stuck to the fringes of high school society. When asked, most students couldn’t place a Verity Walker among their classmates. She was plain, unassuming, not even remotely memorable. What they didn’t know is how much by design that was. Verity was always honing her abilities, making sure to be lost in a sea of faces. A chameleon, blending into her surroundings until she practically disappeared. But she never did — she was always there, and always listening.

With a penchant for overhearing things and seeing more than she should, Verity knew practically everyone and their business. She knew which students were cheating on their exams, which jocks were two timing their bobby soxer girlfriends, and which professors were canoodling in private in the teacher’s lounge. She had a knack for blending in so well she could spy on anyone, and had for a couple years used this to her advantage by anonymously publishing a gossip rag all about the goings on. She enjoyed the chaos of it, and it had created for a lot of fun while away from home. At Ilvermorny there was no Amity to spend lazy afternoons with, or her mother and aunts to drag her off on their illegal afterschool activities. She had to make her own entertainment while remaining somewhat isolated from her peers. Outside of this, she wasn’t a particularly remarkable student. Her grades had been average, though not for lack of skill. She was gifted in particular casting, but didn’t seem to care much about her education to apply herself. And much too clumsy for sports, the only thing Verity seemed to be remotely passionate about had been Wizard’s Chess, being particularly good at strategizing on a chess board.

With such an unremarkable academic career, it’s of little surprise that her MACUSA recruitment was not a result of cherry-picking among Ilvermorny graduates with high marks. In fact, it was less about her skills and more about escaping a life locked behind bars. It was only a matter of time before the Walker women’s clandestine activities caught up with them, after all. So shortly after graduation, and a barely legal Verity was using her abilities to disguise herself while working a mark. Her mother and the aunts had aged and were starting to wither, which meant having a doe eyed young woman to take on the conning was a good change of pace. How else are we to live, Serenity had said, if you don’t step up and do your part for the family? Verity had always been a little impressionable where her mother had been concerned. She would do anything Serenity Walker asked of her, including seducing no-maj men so they could trick them into signing over all their money to them. It was simple, she’d watched her mother and aunts do it her whole life. And the first couple jobs were simple, easy, small things to initiate her. It wasn’t until a bigger job, one that included defrauding a man of higher prestige than their usual marks, that things got dicey. It all came back to those pesky rumors, and if there was one thing that MACUSA didn’t like, it was the threat of exposure. The Walker women had been so arrogant to believe nobody was on their trail, but it turned out MACUSA Law Enforcement had been keeping tabs on them. It just wasn’t until a metamorphmagus entered the situation that they finally intervened.

Caught and apprehended, facing charges including Fraud, Theft, and now Exposure, it seemed like life as she knew it was over for Verity. That had been until she was escorted out of the holding cell at the MACUSA correctional facility they were jailed in, and taken into a small interrogation room. Expecting to see another run of the mill MACUSA Law Enforcement officer, Verity was instead met with a strange but handsome man in an inky black suit. When he greeted her, he only identified himself as “Six”, and revealed only this of his identity: I am Agent Six, an Intelligence Officer of the MACUSA Intelligence Agency known simply as “The Bureau”. Six had come to the facility with one goal in mind: recruitment. News of a metamorphmagus being detained had made it to high places, and high ranking officials in the MACUSA were willing to work a deal with her should she be agreeable. Facing a 20 or more year sentencing for the crimes committed, Six presented an alternative: The Walker women would be free to walk, return home… but only if, in exchange, Verity come with him and joined the ranks of Bureau Operatives. At first an offer which seemed a little too good to be true, until Verity realized she was swapping one sentence for another. Instead of 20 years rotting in jail, she would instead spend 20 years as property of MACUSA, with her identity wiped from existence and playing whatever undercover role they needed of her until she’d worked off her family’s crimes. If it weren’t for how desperate the situation was, or how guilty she felt for giving herself away, Verity would have fought it.

Two days later the Walker women returned home, sans one member of the family.

Verity Jo Walker ceased to exist after that day. Any record of her was wiped, any paper trail that could lead even the most keen investigator after her dismantled. Verity became a member of the elusive Bureau Team, dubbed “Thirteen” by her superiors and called this at every turn. Only a few members of MACUSA’s Law Enforcement offices know her real name, let alone her real face. As a metamorphmagus her job has been relatively simple — alter her appearance however it’s needed and then be shipped off to some destination to perform a mission on behalf of MACUSA and the government’s best interests. For a girl who was once sequestered to the mountains, this came with a sort of charm. For the first time in her life, Verity was experiencing the world far beyond the mountains she called home. Constantly jetsetting off to foreign shores chasing new leads and missions, and experiencing all the world had to offer. Like she always dreamed she would someday do. But there was a loneliness to what she did; the fact very few knew her actual name and referred to her as a number.

And then there was her family, who didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. Her mother and aunts only knew that she made a deal to earn them their innocence and get them released, and that she would not be coming home with them. Amity knew even less, being grown and with a budding career as a Magizoologist and therefore not close to the family at the time. Amity wouldn’t get to know what happened to Verity, and maybe it was for the better. She had been too good, too feeling. If she knew what Verity was really up to, all the dangerous situations MACUSA sent her off on, then she wouldn’t let her go and it would only compromise the situation further. Verity couldn’t have that, not when she was too busy working off their family’s sentences so they can be free. It was the least she could do, and besides — for once it seemed like maybe she was good for something other than being an accessory to crime.

Now fully initiated into her role as a MACUSA Operative, Verity Walker has found herself on her most daring mission yet: undercover as a pureblood socialite from North Carolina vacationing in London for the holidays in an attempt to find a wealthy pureblood husband. In reality Verity has one job, to infiltrate Wizarding London’s society and find a way to connect with the secret faction that is threatening the wixen community across the Atlantic. As news of Death Eater activity has made itself known to authorities in MACUSA, they’ve sent an operative or two out to keep tabs on the growing situation in order to keep them appraised of the goings on, and so Verity finds herself know with the alias Frances Beauchamp. She’s to mingle, make friends, and somehow associate herself with the Death Eaters — not to stop them, but merely to gather intel and ensure that the situation stays contained in the UK and doesn’t leak back to the states ahead of an important election year. Seems simple enough, except that she doesn’t realize a certain ghost from her civilian past has also rooted in the UK, and could cross paths with her at any second. As desperate as she is to reunite with her sister, Verity can’t until the work is done. And as things continue brewing in the streets of Wizarding London’s society, she’s beginning to think the work will never be done.

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Desperately Seeking a Husband  FAMILY: Leland “Big Daddy” Beauchamp (father), Magnolia Beauchamp (mother), 6 Elder Sisters, S███████ W█████ (mother), C██████ W█████ (aunt), C███████ W█████ (aunt), A████ W█████ (sister, elder) FACE CLAIM: Anya Taylor-Joy HEIGHT: 5’8” OCCUPATION: Socialite M█████ O████████ WAND: 9 1/2” Maple wood, Jackalope Antler core, nice and supple flexibility PATRONUS: TBD BOGGART: ████████ LANGUAGES: English, PINTEREST: (x) ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: ████████

ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS

amity walker - o sister where art thou

pauline taylor - good cop to my bad cop

BONUS

[brookston]

Holidays 9.3

Holidays

Andrew Luck Day (Indiana)

Anniversary of the End of the Second World War (Russia)

Another Luck Unlimited Day

Armed Forces Day (Taiwan)

Beslan Remembrance Day

Brazilian Day

Broadcast Day (South Korea)

Civil Aviation Day (Tajikistan)

Cromwell’s Day

Day of Universal Alarm

Day to Mourn All Manifestations of Sexism

Drexciya Day

Feast of Atqksak (Baffin Land)

Flag Day (Australia)

Foundation Day (San Marino)

Gaura Parba (Nepal)

Harvest Bell Day (a.k.a. Hare Bell)

Levy Mwanawasa Day (Zambia)

Lost Day

Lower Case Letter Day

Memorial Day (Tunisia)

Merchant Navy Day (UK)

Merchant Navy Remembrance Day (Canada)

National Army Day (Moldova)

National Dahlia Day

National Day of Prayer for the Victims of Hurricane Harvey

National Guard Day (Tajikistan)

National High Heels Day

National Holiday of Commemoration (Tunisia)

National Shoot Your Shot Day

National Stephen Day

National Wilderness Day

903 Day (Texas)

Penny Press Day

Richard the Lionheart Day (UK)

Skyscraper Day

Solidarity Against Terrorism Day (Russia)

Tales and Tallows Day (Elder Scrolls)

Teasel Day (French Republic)

That Day I’ll Always Remember (in the song “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone,” by The Temptations)

Tokehega Day (Tokalau, New Zealand)

U.S. Bowling League Day

V-J Day (China)

World Day of Hygiene

Yamashita Surrender Day (Philippines)

Food & Drink Celebrations

Afternoon Tea Time Day

International Rosé Day

National Barbecue Baby Back Ribs Day

National Welsh Rarebit Day

Independence & Related Days

Bir Tawil (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Day of Liberation of Monaco (Monaco)

Irida City Foundation Day (Philippines)

Mexico (Formally Recognized by US; 1923)

Qatar (from UK, 1971)

San Marino (Founded; 301 C.E.)

United States (Formally Recognized by Great Britain; 1783)

Yeesland (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

1st Tuesday in September

Another Look Unlimited Day [Tuesday after 1st Monday]

Camo Tuesday [1st Tuesday]

Play Days begin [Tuesday through Saturday after 1st Monday]

Protect Your Groundwater Day [1st Tuesday]

Taco Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Takeout Tuesday [1st Tuesday of Each Month]

Target Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Tater Tot Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Telephone Tuesday [Tuesday after 1st Monday]

To-Do List Tuesday [1st Tuesday of Each Month]

Tranquil Tuesday [1st Tuesday of Each Month]

Trivia Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Two For Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

World Art Drop Day [1st Tuesday]

Weekly Holidays beginning September 3 (1st Full Week of September)

Play Days (thru 9.7] [Tuesday thru Saturday after Labor Day]

Festivals Beginning September 3, 2024

Barbera Festival (Plymouth, California)

Bigsound (Brisbane City, Australia) [thru 9.5]

Tennessee Soybean Festival (Martin, Tennessee) [thru 9.7]

Van Buren County Livestock Show & Fair (Clinton, Arkansas) [thru 9.7]

Feast Days

Aigulf (Christian; Martyr)

Akwambo (Path Clearing Festival; Akan People of Ghana)

Alison Lurie (Writerism)

Armand Vaillancourt (Artology)

Baile and Ailinn (Celtic Book of Days)

Barkley (Muppetism)

Bengt Lindström (Artology)

Bernard de Pailissy (Positivist; Saint)

Cuthburga (Christian; Saint)

Day of Mimi’s Well (Pagan)

Day of Universal Alarm (Shamanism)

Drexciya Day

Gregory I, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Gregory the Great (Christian; Saint)

Hildelitha (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

John Picacio (Artology)

Joseph Wright (Artology)

Lawrence Clark Powell (Writerism)

Lawrence Welk Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Macnisius of Ireland (Christian; Saint)

Maidens of the Four Directions (Hopi Native Americans)

Malcolm Gladwell (Writerism)

Mansuetus of Toul (Christian; Saint)

Marinus (Christian; Saint)

Mort Walker (Artology)

Paul Kane (Artology)

Phoebe (Christian; Saint)

Pius X, pope (Christian; Saint)

Remaclus (Christian; Saint)

Prudence Crandall (Episcopal Church (USA))

Sarah Orne Jewett (Writerism)

Say No to Haggis Day (Pastafarian)

Simeon Stylites the Younger (Christian; Saint)

Wendy O. Williams Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Dismal Day (Unlucky or Evil Day; Medieval Europe; 17 of 24)

Egyptian Day (Unlucky Day; Middle Ages Europe) [17 of 24]

Fatal Day (Pagan) [17 of 24]

Lucky Day (Philippines) [49 of 71]

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [40 of 60]

Premieres

Bosko the Lumberjack (WB LT Cartoon; 1932)

Cartoons Ain’t Human (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1943)

The Cat and the Mermouse (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1949)

Dime to Retire (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?, by Culture Club (UK Song; 1982)

Fantastic Voyage, by Isaac Asimov (Novel; 1966)

From Hare to Heir (WB MM Cartoon; 1960)

Funf Orchesterstucke (Five Pieces for Orchestra), by Arnold Schoenberg (1912)

Funny Business in the Books or The Library Card (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 210; 1963)

Going the Distance (Film; 2010)

The Gold Rush, featuring Flip the Frog (MGM Cartoon; 1932)

Goodnight Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown (Children’s Book; 1947)

Johnny Got His Gun, by Dalton Trumbo (Novel; 1939)

Listen Without Prejudice, by George Michael (Album; 1990)

Machete (Film; 2010)

The Man in the Queue, by Josephine Tey (Novel; 1929) [Alan Grant #1]

Mister and Mistletoe (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1955)

Never Go Back, 18th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2013)

Old Smokey, featuring the Captain and the Kids (MGM Cartoon; 1938)

The Prisoner of Zenda (Film; 1937)

Roll the Bones, by Rush (Album; 1991)

The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, by Yukio Mishima (Novel; 1963)

Scooby-Doo! In Arabian Nights (WB Animated Film; 1994)

Scooby-Doo! Return to Zombie Island (WB Animated Film; 2019)

Search for Tomorrow (TV Soap Opera; 1951)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (Film; 2021)

The Sky Scrapper (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Disney Cartoon; 1928)

Snow Place Like Home (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1948)

Something Happened, by Joseph Heller (Novel; 1974)

Special Delivery Stomp, recorded by Artie Shaw (Song;1940)

Tenet (Film; 2020)

Tom and Jerry: The Fast and the Furry (WB Animated Film; 2005)

Topsy Turvy World, Part 1 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 209; 1963)

The Trouble with Girls (Elvis Presley Film; 1969) [#30]

The Villain Still Pursued Her (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1937)

Ye Happy Pilgrims (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1934)

Today’s Name Days

George, Gregor, Silvia, Sophie (Austria)

Gordana, Grga, Grgur (Croatia)

Bronislav (Czech Republic)

Seraphia (Denmark)

Solveig, Veegi (Estonia)

Soila, Soile, Soili (Finland)

Grégoire (France)

Gregor, Phoebe, Silvia, Sonja (Germany)

Anthimos, Arhontia, Arhontion, Aristea, Ariston, Phoebe, Phoebi, Phevos, Polydoros (Greece)

Hilda (Hungary)

Fausto, Felice, Gregorio, Lorenzo, Marino, Rosa, Teodoro (Italy)

Bella, Berta, Klaudija, Klaudijs, Slaida (Latvia)

Bronislova, Bronislovas, Mirga, Sirtautas (Lithuania)

Alise, Alvhild, Vilde (Norway)

Antoni, Bartłomiej, Bazylissa, Bronisław, Bronisz, Erazma, Eufemia, Eufrozyna, Izabela, Jan, Joachim, Joachima, Manswet, Mojmir, Szymon, Wincenty, Zenon, Zenona (Poland)

Antim, Meletie, Neofit (Romania)

Belo (Slovakia)

Basilisa, Gregorio (Spain)

Alfhild, Alva (Sweden)

Page, Paige, Phebe, Phoebe, Phoebus (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 247 of 2024; 119 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 2 of Week 36 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 4 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Guy-You), Day 1 (Geng-Wu)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 30 Av 5784

Islamic: 28 Safar 1446

J Cal: 7 Gold; Sevenday [6 of 30]

Julian: 21 August 2024

Moon: 1%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 23 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Riquet]

Runic Half Month: Rad (Motion) [Day 12 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 76 of 94)

Week: 1st Full Week of September

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 13 of 32)

Calendar Changes

桂月 [Guìyuè] (Chinese Lunisolar Calendar) [Month 8 of 12] (Osmanthus Month) [Earthly Branch: Rooster Month] (Bāyuè; Eighth Month)

[warningsine]

A federal judge ruled that Google violated US antitrust law by maintaining a monopoly in the search and advertising markets.

“After having carefully considered and weighed the witness testimony and evidence, the court reaches the following conclusion: Google is a monopolist, and it has acted as one to maintain its monopoly,” according to the court’s ruling, which you can read in full at the bottom of this story. “It has violated Section 2 of the Sherman Act.”

Judge Amit Mehta’s decision represents a major victory for the Department of Justice, which accused Google of illegally monopolizing the online search market. Still, Mehta did not agree with all of the government’s arguments. For example, he rejected the claim that Google has monopoly power in one specific part of the ads market. He agreed with the government, however, that Google has a monopoly in “general search services” and “general search text advertising.”

It’s not yet clear what this ruling will mean for the future of Google’s business, as this initial finding is only about the company’s liability, not about remedies. Google’s fate will be determined in the next phase of proceedings, which could result in anything from a mandate to stop certain business practices to a breakup of Google’s search business.

Google plans to appeal the ruling, president of global affairs Kent Walker said in a statement. “This decision recognizes that Google offers the best search engine, but concludes that we shouldn’t be allowed to make it easily available,” he said. “As this process continues, we will remain focused on making products that people find helpful and easy to use.”

“This landmark decision holds Google accountable,” DOJ antitrust chief Jonathan Kanter said in a statement. “It paves the path for innovation for generations to come and protects access to information for all Americans.”

DuckDuckGo, whose CEO testified against Google in the trial, applauded the decision, but recognized the fight isn’t over. In a statement, SVP for public affairs Kamyl Bazbaz said, “The journey ahead will be long. As we are seeing in the EU and other places, Google will do anything it can to avoid changing its conduct. However, we know there is a pent up demand for alternatives in search and this ruling will support access to more options.”

Mehta rejected Google’s arguments that its contracts with phone and browser makers like Apple were not exclusionary and therefore shouldn’t qualify it for liability under the Sherman Act. “The prospect of losing tens of billions in guaranteed revenue from Google — which presently come at little to no cost to Apple — disincentivizes Apple from launching its own search engine when it otherwise has built the capacity to do so,” he wrote.

He said the framework from the last landmark tech monopoly case, US v. Microsoft, was in fact relevant to the current case against Google. While Google argued that, unlike Microsoft, it maintained pretty consistent actions before and after it became dominant in the market, Mehta said that’s irrelevant since the same conduct can be exclusionary when done by a dominant player, even if it’s not when it’s done by a smaller one.

He described “Google’s monopoly in general search” as “remarkably durable,” writing that it increased from about 80 percent in 2009 to 90 percent by 2020. Bing, by comparison, has less than 6 percent market share, Mehta added. “If there is genuine competition in the market for general search, it has not manifested in familiar ways, such as fluid market shares, lost business, or new entrants,” he wrote.

“The market reality is that Google is the only real choice as the default GSE,” Mehta wrote, referring to an acronym for general search engine. He cited a quote from Apple SVP Eddy Cue, who said during the trial that there’s “‘no price that Microsoft could ever offer [Apple] to’ preload Bing.”

Mehta underscored the idea that even the largest businesses in the US have no real alternative to Google. “Time and again, Google’s partners have concluded that it is financially infeasible to switch default GSEs or seek greater flexibility in search offerings because it would mean sacrificing the hundreds of millions, if not billions, of dollars that Google pays them as revenue share,” he wrote. “These are Fortune 500 companies, and they have nowhere else to turn other than Google.”

On search text advertising, Mehta wrote that Google’s exclusive agreements enabled it to raise prices on that product “without any meaningful competitive constraint.” While Google argued that the price for its search text ads, when adjusted for quality, has decreased, Mehta wrote that evidence “is weak.” That’s because even Google has recognized how difficult it is to determine “the value of an ad to its buyer,” he wrote. “This evidence does not reflect a principled practice of quality-adjusted pricing, but rather shows Google creating higher-priced auctions with the primary purpose of driving long-term revenues.”

Beyond the monopoly questions, Mehta declined to impose sanctions on Google for failing to preserve chat messages relevant to the case — something the Justice Department characterized as destroying evidence. The requested sanctions “do not move the needle on the court’s assessment of Google’s liability.” But Mehta said the decision “should not be understood as condoning Google’s failure to preserve chat evidence ... Google avoided sanctions in this case. It may not be so lucky in the next one.”

The decision is the first in a wave of tech monopoly cases brought by the US government in recent years. While two decades passed between the Department of Justice’s antitrust lawsuit against Microsoft and its next tech anti-monopoly case against Google, filed in 2020, several more such cases quickly followed.

Amazon, Apple, and Meta all now face their own monopolization lawsuits from the US government, and Google will go to trial against the DOJ a second time this fall over a separate challenge of its advertising technology business. That makes Mehta’s decision in this case even more consequential for how other judges may consider how to apply century-old antitrust laws to modern digital markets.

Mehta oversaw a 10-week trial in the Google search case last fall, which culminated in two days of closing arguments in early May. The trial, which took place in DC District Court, convened many big players in Silicon Valley, including Google CEO Sundar Pichai, Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella, and Apple executive Eddy Cue.

The DOJ argued that Google illegally monopolized the general search advertising market by effectively cutting off key distribution channels for rivals through exclusionary contracts. For example, Google has deals with browser makers like Mozilla and phone manufacturers like Apple and Samsung to make its search engine the default on their products. Google also makes default status for some of its apps a condition of access to the Play Store for phone makers using its Android operating system.

Google argued throughout the trial that it has not acted anticompetitively and that its large market share is a result of creating a superior product that consumers enjoy. It contended that the Google search business should be compared to a much larger range of peers than the government proposed in its market definition, suggesting it competes directly with other platforms where search is a big part of the business, even if they don’t index the web (such as Amazon).

One of the most significant revelations from the case was the size of Google’s payments to Apple to secure the default search engine spot on iPhone browsers. An expert witness for Google let slip that the company shares 36 percent of search ad revenue from Safari with Apple. In 2022, Google paid Apple $20 billion for the default position.

During closing arguments, Mehta homed in on those payments, wondering how other players in the market could possibly displace Google from that position. “If that’s what it takes for somebody to dislodge Google as the default search engine, wouldn’t the folks that wrote the Sherman Act be concerned about it?”

The next antitrust trial between the DOJ and Google is set to begin on September 9th in Virginia. That case will focus on whether Google has illegally monopolized digital advertising technology.

[dogtoysandmore]

Should I Facetime My Dog While on Vacation?

Should I Facetime My Dog While on Vacation? Staying connected with our beloved pets is a priority for many pet owners, especially when we have to be away from them during vacations. In recent years, technology has provided us with new ways to maintain that connection, and FaceTime has become a popular option for dog owners. FaceTiming your dog while on vacation can have several benefits, but it's important to consider various factors before deciding if it's the right choice for you and your furry friend. First and foremost, it's essential to understand what FaceTime is and how it works. FaceTime is a video calling application that allows users to have real-time video conversations with one another. It enables people to see and hear each other, making it a potentially useful tool to virtually connect with your dog while you're away. But can dogs recognize their owners on FaceTime? Research suggests that dogs are capable of recognizing and responding to familiar faces on video calls, including FaceTime. They can hear their owner's voice, see their face, and may even react to their presence. This recognition can create a sense of familiarity and comfort for dogs who may be missing their owners. The benefits of FaceTiming your dog while on vacation are numerous. Firstly, it can help reduce separation anxiety in your pet. Seeing and hearing their owner can provide them with a sense of security and relieve some of the stress associated with being apart. FaceTime allows you to provide comfort and reassurance to your dog, easing any distress they may be experiencing. Maintaining the bond and attachment between you and your dog is another advantage of FaceTiming. Regular virtual interactions can help solidify the emotional connection between you and your pet, ensuring that the bond remains strong even when you're physically separated. FaceTime can also be a valuable tool for training and behavioral management, as you can give commands and reinforce positive behaviors remotely. However, before you decide to FaceTime your dog, there are a few considerations to keep in mind. Firstly, not all dogs may react positively to technology. Some dogs may become anxious or confused by the sounds and images coming from the screen, so it's essential to gauge your dog's reaction and ensure that FaceTiming does not cause them any distress. The availability of reliable Wi-Fi or data coverage is another factor to consider. FaceTime relies on a stable internet connection, so it's important to ensure that you have access to reliable Wi-Fi or a strong cellular data signal to prevent interruptions or disconnections during your calls. Lastly, it's important to acknowledge that FaceTiming your dog has its limitations. While it allows for visual and auditory interaction, the level of physical interaction is limited. Your dog may not understand why they can see and hear you but can't physically touch or play with you. It's important to supplement virtual interaction with other methods to provide enrichment and stimulation for your dog. If FaceTiming is not a suitable option for you and your dog, there are alternative ways to stay connected. Live video monitoring systems, interactive toys and treat dispensers, and hiring a pet sitter or dog walker are all viable options to ensure your dog's well-being while you're away.

Key takeaway:

- Staying connected with your dog is important: FaceTiming your dog while on vacation can help maintain the bond and attachment between you and your pet. - FaceTime provides comfort and reassurance: It can reduce separation anxiety in dogs and provide them with comfort while you are away. - FaceTiming can assist with training and behavior management: It allows you to interact with your dog and monitor their behavior, making it easier to address any issues remotely. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vzwr_L0RGQ

The Importance of Staying Connected with Your Dog

When it comes to the well-being of your dog and your bond with them, staying connected is of utmost importance. Here are some reasons why staying connected with your dog is crucial: - Emotional well-being: Staying connected with your dog is vital to fulfill their need for companionship and emotional support. Dogs are social animals, and being separated from their human can result in feelings of anxiety and loneliness. - Behavioral stability: Regular communication with your dog is key to maintaining their behavioral stability. Just like humans, dogs thrive on routine and consistency. Regular interaction and reassurance from their owner can prevent behavioral problems like separation anxiety or destructive behavior. - Physical health: Staying connected with your dog allows you to monitor their physical health. Through video calls or updates from your dog sitter, you can ensure that they are eating well, getting regular exercise, and show no signs of illness or injury. - Bonding: Staying connected with your dog helps strengthen the bond between the two of you. Regular communication and affectionate gestures, even if they are virtual, remind your dog of your love and care for them. - Peace of mind: Knowing that your dog is safe and well-cared for while you are away provides peace of mind. Regular updates and visual contact with your dog can alleviate any worries or concerns you may have about their well-being. During my two-week vacation, I prioritized staying connected with my dog, Max. Every day, I would video call him and talk to him as if he understood every word. The sight of his wagging tail and the sound of his excited barks whenever he heard my voice brought immense joy and comfort. Additionally, my friend, who took care of Max, would send me daily updates and pictures of their activities together. It was heartwarming to see Max enjoying his walks, playing with his favorite toys, and snuggling up on the couch. By staying connected with Max throughout my vacation, not only did it boost my own happiness, but it also ensured that he received emotional support and proper care. It strengthened our bond, and returning home became even more delightful as Max showered me with kisses and wagged his tail.

What Is FaceTime?

FaceTime is a video calling feature available on Apple devices such as iPhones, iPads, and Mac computers. What Is FaceTime? It allows users to have face-to-face conversations with others over an internet connection. FaceTime utilizes the device's front-facing camera to capture the user's image and transmit it in real-time to the recipient. The recipient's image is then displayed on the user's screen, allowing for a visual and interactive conversation. FaceTime operates using the internet and can be accessed through Wi-Fi or cellular data, depending on the device's capabilities. This means that as long as there is a stable internet connection, users can make FaceTime calls to anyone, anywhere in the world. One of the main advantages of FaceTime is its ease of use. It is pre-installed on Apple devices, so users do not need to download any additional apps or create new accounts. They can simply initiate a FaceTime call from their device's contacts or messaging apps. FaceTime also provides a high-quality video and audio experience, making the communication feel more personal and immersive. Users can see and hear each other clearly, enhancing the overall conversation experience. Furthermore, FaceTime supports group video calls, allowing multiple participants to join the conversation simultaneously. This feature is beneficial for work meetings, family gatherings, or catching up with friends. It enables everyone to participate and interact, regardless of their physical location. To ensure privacy and security, FaceTime encrypts the calls, safeguarding the user's personal information and preventing unauthorized access. This encryption provides peace of mind when engaging in sensitive or confidential conversations.

Can Dogs Recognize Their Owners on FaceTime?

Yes, dogs can recognize their owners on FaceTime. Dogs are highly perceptive animals, and they can use visual and auditory cues to recognize familiar faces and voices. Research has shown that dogs can recognize their owners on FaceTime based on their appearance and voice. Dogs rely heavily on visual cues to recognize people, so seeing their owner's face on a video call can trigger recognition. They can perceive familiar facial features, such as the shape of the eyes, nose, and mouth. Dogs have the ability to mentally process and remember the facial features of their owners, even through a virtual platform like FaceTime. In addition to visual cues, dogs can also recognize their owners' voices. They have a keen sense of hearing and can distinguish between different voices, including their owner's voice. By listening to their owner's voice and hearing their familiar tone and intonation, dogs can form a connection and recognize their owners on FaceTime. It's important to note that while dogs can recognize their owners on FaceTime, the level of recognition may vary depending on the individual dog. Some dogs may show more excitement and recognition, while others may be less responsive. Factors such as the dog's familiarity with technology and their overall temperament can influence their reaction. To enhance the recognition and connection between dogs and their owners on FaceTime, there are a few things you can do: - Speak in a calm, reassuring tone to help your dog associate your voice with a positive emotional state. - Show your dog your face on the screen and speak directly to them, using their name and familiar commands. - Use positive reinforcement, such as treats or praise, to create positive associations with FaceTime sessions. While FaceTime can provide a way for dogs and their owners to stay connected during periods of separation, it's important to remember that it cannot fully substitute for physical interaction and presence. Dogs still require in-person contact and care from their owners for their overall well-being.

The Benefits of FaceTiming Your Dog While on Vacation

Staying connected with our furry friends while on vacation is a heartwarming thought. In this section, we'll explore the amazing benefits of FaceTiming your dog while you're away. From reducing separation anxiety and providing comfort to maintaining a strong bond and aiding in training, FaceTiming can be a game-changer for both you and your canine companion. So, let's dive in and discover how technology can help bridge the distance and keep your dog's tail wagging even when you're not physically there. Reduces Separation Anxiety When it comes to reducing separation anxiety in your dog, FaceTiming can be an effective tool. Here are some ways it can help: - Creates a sense of presence: FaceTime allows you to see and hear your dog, providing a sense of presence even when you're not physically there. This can alleviate feelings of loneliness and reduce separation anxiety. - Offers comfort and reassurance: By seeing your face and hearing your voice through FaceTime, your dog can feel comforted and reassured. It reminds them that you're still there for them, even if you're not physically present. - Maintains bond and attachment: FaceTiming with your dog while on vacation helps maintain the bond and attachment between you and your furry friend. It allows you to engage with them and strengthen your relationship. - Aids in training and behavioral management: Using FaceTime as a training tool can be helpful. You can give cues, commands, and positive reinforcement through the screen, reinforcing good behavior even when you're not physically there. While using FaceTime can be beneficial for reducing separation anxiety, it's important to consider a few factors: - Consider your dog's reaction to technology: Not all dogs may respond positively to FaceTime. Some dogs may become confused or anxious when seeing and hearing their owners through a screen. It's important to gauge your dog's reaction and adjust accordingly. - Ensure reliable Wi-Fi or data coverage: FaceTiming requires a stable internet connection. Make sure you have access to reliable Wi-Fi or data coverage to ensure a smooth and uninterrupted video call with your dog. - Address distractions and limited interaction: While FaceTime provides visual and auditory interaction, it may not fully substitute for physical presence. Dogs may still long for physical touch and play. Consider other ways to provide enrichment and companionship in addition to FaceTiming. Provides Comfort and Reassurance FaceTiming your dog while on vacation provides comfort and reassurance for both you and your furry friend. It allows you to see your dog's familiar face and surroundings, providing a sense of comfort and familiarity. Seeing your dog's face can help ease any worries or concerns you may have about their well-being while you're away. While you can't physically be with your dog, FaceTiming allows you to communicate with them through your voice and visuals. This reassures them that you are still present and thinking of them, reducing any anxiety or stress they may experience due to your absence. FaceTiming your dog helps maintain the emotional bond between you. They can hear your voice, see your face, and feel your love and presence. This connection is essential for their well-being and can prevent feelings of abandonment or loneliness. Seeing their owner's face and hearing their voice through FaceTime can help dogs stick to their daily routine and feel more secure. It creates a sense of normalcy in their lives, knowing that their owner is still there for them, even if physically absent. Remember, not all dogs may react positively to FaceTime. It's important to assess your dog's reaction to technology before relying solely on this method. Additionally, ensure a reliable Wi-Fi or data coverage to have a smooth and uninterrupted FaceTime call. While FaceTiming can provide comfort and reassurance, it should not be the only method of interaction during your absence. Other alternatives, such as live video monitoring systems, interactive toys and treat dispensers, or hiring a pet sitter or dog walker, should also be considered to provide comprehensive care for your dog while you're away. Maintains Bond and Attachment

Maintaining a bond and attachment with your dog is essential for a healthy and happy relationship. FaceTiming your dog while on vacation can help in maintaining that bond and attachment even when you are not physically present. 1. FaceTiming your dog provides a sense of familiarity as they can see and hear your voice, creating reassurance. This helps alleviate any potential anxiety or stress they may experience due to your absence. 2. By engaging in virtual interactions, you are reinforcing the bond between you and your dog. This can help strengthen the emotional connection and prevent feelings of abandonment or loneliness. 3. Dogs are social animals and crave companionship. Seeing your face and hearing your voice through FaceTime provides them with emotional support and comfort, preventing them from feeling isolated or neglected. 4. FaceTiming facilitates training and behavior management. You can continue to give commands and provide encouragement, ensuring consistency and reinforcing positive behaviors even when you are away. 5. Being able to see your dog and check on their well-being through FaceTime gives you peace of mind while you are away. You can ensure they are healthy, happy, and well-cared for, making your vacation more enjoyable and less worrisome. Maintaining a bond and attachment with your dog is essential for their overall well-being. FaceTiming them while on vacation can help bridge the physical distance and provide them with the emotional connection they need. So, go ahead and FaceTime your dog to maintain that special bond even when you are away. Fun Fact: A study conducted by the University of Lincoln found that dogs who had visual and auditory interaction with their owners through video calls displayed more positive behaviors compared to those who did not have such interactions. This shows the positive impact of maintaining a bond and attachment through technologies like FaceTime. FaceTime your dog to improve their manners and teach them who's really in charge...even from a distance! Helps with Training and Behavioral Management Helps with training and behavioral management: - Establishes Communication: FaceTiming your dog while on vacation helps with training and behavioral management by establishing clear communication. Through the video call, you can give commands, provide positive reinforcement, and correct any unwanted behaviors. - Reinforces Training: By using FaceTime, you can reinforce the training you have already implemented with your dog. You can practice obedience commands, tricks, and manners even when you are away. This consistency in training helps your dog maintain their learned behaviors. - Reduces Separation Anxiety: FaceTiming your dog helps reduce separation anxiety, a common issue among dogs when their owners are away. Seeing and hearing your voice regularly provides comfort and reassurance to your dog, helping them feel less anxious and stressed. - Maintains Routine: Dogs thrive on routine, and FaceTiming allows you to maintain their daily routine even when you are not physically present. You can video call during their meal times, play sessions, or walks, ensuring that your dog's daily routine and structure remain consistent. - Monitors Behavior: Utilizing FaceTime, you can keep an eye on your dog's behavior while you are away. Read the full article