#But so many stuff is still unanswered and I refuse to do my own research cuz I wanna give Bobby all my coins

[ikeameatballspoisonedme]

BobbyBroccoli is genuinely the best video essayist on YouTube hands down. If I live in the US I would've ran to subscribe to Nebula

[alj4890]

Delicate

(Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Nevarkis) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crackship Series

A/N It's Thanksgiving and Drake just happens to be in America. Seems perfect to drop in and see Olivia. Let's just say that it doesn't go at all like he hoped.

@jooous​ ​ @krsnlove​ @nomadics-stuff​   @twinkleallnight​ @motorcitymademadame​

Masterlist

Part 4

Olivia's Apartment, Boston...

"I suppose you have a very good reason for calling me this early." Olivia mumbled.

Ethan's chuckle brought a sleepy smile to her lips.

"How would you like to spend Thanksgiving at my place?"

"You'll be working." She reminded him.

"True." She could hear him shuffling papers around. "But we could have a late dinner. I'll also be off Friday and Saturday."

She rolled over in bed while keeping him waiting for an answer. "I might like that."

"Might?"

"Well, you didn't tell me who was cooking?"

"I see." Ethan readjusted his phone. "Would it entice you more to know I'm willing to do the cooking."

"I think it would." She laughed at his groan. "When should I come over?"

"Tonight." He replied. "That way you will already be there Thanksgiving morning."

"Then I better finish sleeping."

"You're right." His voice deepened. "I intend to keep you up late."

"Can't wait." She said softly.

She ended the call and rolled over with a deep sigh. She couldn't remember a time in her life that was anything like this. Her happiness was so new.

So unexpected.

Everything was moving perfectly. Her research hospital was being constructed. She had already hired a number of physicians that held credentials that would make any medical college weep over. And personally speaking, her love life wasn't too shabby.

No, it's perfect.

Ethan pursued her. He never stopped trying to impress her. Just like now with wanting her to be with him for his holiday. He made plans with her in mind, plans to learn all he could about her while sharing pieces of himself in the process.

Olivia knew she had dropped every barrier she had kept up to protect herself. Perhaps the only reason it didn't bother her was because, he too had left himself vulnerable before her.

For the first time, she could fully understand why her friends had done so in their own lives. It was a heady feeling, this power over someone. Knowing you could either make them happy or send them into the depths of sadness was both thrilling and a bit terrifying.

Olivia had given him that power over herself.

She justified her willingness by the type of man Ethan was. He was loyal to a fault. He was intelligent. Dedicated to whatever was important in his life. He never held back on what he was passionate about.

She shared so many of those qualities and understood the driving force behind them.

Perhaps that was why he didn't mind leaving himself open to her.

Perhaps, Ethan was truly the only man for her.

Do I love him? She wondered. Being so unfamiliar with the emotion, she thought of how much she wanted to be with him. The still unexpected joy she felt from his calls and seeing him. The longing for him when they were apart. She had even caught herself grinning like she had seen her friends do whenever they were daydreaming about their love.

Even if it was love, could she admit it? And if she did admit it and he admitted it too...what happens next?

She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow. She detested unanswered questions and hated herself for even thinking of them.

Determined to push them to the back of her mind, she closed her eyes and dreamed of Ethan.

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

Outside Nadia Park's Apartment, New York City...

"You sure you're okay driving by yourself?" Maxwell asked. "You know my pilot will take you wherever you want."

Drake finished placing his luggage in the back of the Jeep Grand Cherokee he had rented. "I would rather drive." He shut the back. "Thanks though."

"It's a long way to Texas." Maxwell reminded him. "You sure you'll make it in time?"

"Mom plans on us celebrating this weekend instead of tomorrow." Drake explained. "Savannah and Bertrand can't get there until Friday. Something about Bartie's preschool pageant thing."

Maxwell hit his head with the palm of his hand. "I forgot all about his performance! He had wanted me to see his dance moves."

"Don't worry. Savannah is filming every bit of it."

Maxwell eyed him when he seemed to hesitant to leave.

"You," Drake cleared his throat, "You think I should stop by and check on Liv? On the way down there?"

"You could." Maxwell replied. "Have you talked to her since we were last here?"

Drake shook his head. "I'm not really a phone guy."

Maxwell slowly nodded. "True." He tried to think of a legitimate reason for Drake to see her to help his pride. "I took some photos the other day of the research hospital's construction progress for my next book. You could show them to Olivia."

Drake perked up as Maxwell scrolled through his images on his phone, picking the best to send to him.

"She'll love seeing that." Maxwell added.

"Yeah, she will." Drake muttered. He rubbed the back if his neck. "Listen, thanks for uh, for helping me with this. And for not making me talk about it all the time."

Maxwell briefly grinned and slapped a hand on Drake's shoulder. "That's what friends are for."

"I know." Drake nodded. "See you Tuesday."

"Have a safe trip." Maxwell waved in goodbye.

He stood out there until the jeep disappeared around the corner.

"Good luck, Drake." He mumbled.

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

Olivia's Apartment, Boston...

"Should I cook something?" Olivia frowned at her nearly bare cabinets while talking on the phone. "What do people usually eat for this holiday?"

"I might not be the person to ask this to." Amanda responded. "Thomas usually doesn't want the typical Thanksgiving fare."

"I would call Riley but Hana told me Liam was surprising her with a trip back to the island this weekend." Olivia muttered.

"A second honeymoon so soon?" Amanda laughed. "I think we might be hearing news of a new heir to the throne this holiday season."

A soft smile formed on Olivia's lips at the thought. "I didn't think of that."

"As for if you should cook something, you can never go wrong with a dessert." Amanda added. "Something you could enjoy together."

Olivia turned around in alarm when she heard a knock at her door.

"Amanda, you are still in California, aren't you?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because only you and Ethan come to my apartment." Slipping a dagger into the sleeve of her sweater, she ended the call and cautiously opened her door.

Drake's hand was halfway up to knock once more.

The two simply stared in surprise at one another.

Olivia's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

She relaxed her grip on the dagger.

"I, uh..." He glanced about. "I was driving to my mom's and thought I would stop along the way and um..." He dug into his pocket and handed his phone over. "Show you the progress on the hospital."

Her suspicious expression smoothed out into one of excited interest as she began to scroll through the images. Stepping back, she silently motioned him to come in with the blade of her dagger.

A relieved smirk formed on his lips as he followed her inside.

"These look incredible." She sat down while admiring photographs of labs and operating rooms. "Ethan and Naveen will be so pleased."

Drake sat down across from her. "Have you finished finding the right doctors for it?"

"For the most part." She replied. "Naveen suggested we hold off on some until we see what is needed most, specialist wise."

"Ah." Drake tapped his fingers against his leg while trying to think of something else to talk about.

"So..." He muttered.

Olivia quirked an eyebrow at him.

"How are...how are things?"

"Things?" She repeated.

"Yeah, how er," he wondered why he was so nervous, "how are they?"

"Fine." She eyed him curiously. "How are things with you?"

"Good." He cleared his throat. "I mean, good that things are fine."

"So things aren't good for you?"

"Yes. I mean, no." He grit his teeth. "Things are great for me."

"I see." Olivia handed his phone back to him. "Well, thanks for stopping by and showing me these. You should probably get back on the road. I assume it is a long way from here to wherever your family is."

"Texas." He reminded her. "You went there for Savannah's wedding."

She narrowed her eyes again. "I've been there one time. Don't expect me to remember every farm I have seen."

Drake felt his own temper spike. "It’s a ranch."

She flicked her fingers dismissively. "Whatever. Shouldn't you go to Texas before Thanksgiving is over?"

"I don't have to be there until this weekend." He explained. "What are you doing for this American holiday?"

"I'll be spending it with Ethan."

His smirk slowly disappeared. "I see. And are you and the good doctor having a traditional turkey dinner with all the trimmings?"

Her eyes were now mere slits. "I believe so. He's cooking for me."

"He would." Drake muttered. "Are you showing that you too can be a little sunshine filled homemaker?"

"A sunshine filled..." She trailed off, refusing to allow him to ruin this for her. She had never had a man invite her to spend the holidays together. "Actually," her smile held a touch of evil, "I was just about to leave to get the ingredients I need to do so."

"You are?" He snorted. "I've never known you to cook."

"You never knew me outside of the bedroom." She snapped. "I can do many things, Walker."

His jaw dropped for a moment over her bluntness. "Like what?"

"None of your business." She got to her feet. "It was great seeing you. Let's not hurry to do so again."

Drake stood up. "I'll drive you to the store."

"That isn't necessary."

"I see what is going on. You're scared of my driving."

"Please. I'm not scared of anything you do."

"Then you'll let me to drive you to the store." Drake replied.

"Fine." She put her coat on and grabbed her purse. "Anything to get you to hurry on your way."

"But I'm not in a hurry." He needled.

"Nobody cares!" She griped.

"You must," he snickered, "you've brought up my travel plans more than I have."

She jerked the passenger side door open and slid in. “I forgot how annoying you are."

"I forgot how easy it is to irritate you." He countered.

She folded her arms and motioned with her chin for him to get going.

A proud smile flirted across his lips as he followed her directions.

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

"So...what is the duchess making?" Drake pushed a grocery cart through a crowded store.

"Dessert." She ground out.

"What kind? Pie? Cake?" He scanned the aisles for the baking one. "Some kind of health thing since it's for good old Ramsey?"

"I don't know!" She snapped. "I've been trying to decide but some idiot keeps talking!'

"Funny, I didn't know Maxwell was here too." Drake made a show of looking around.

Olivia briefly closed her eyes before exploring recipes for a dessert Ethan might enjoy.

"Pumpkin pie."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Pumpkin pie is what you should make." He shrugged. "It is the traditional Thanksgiving dessert."

"I don't like pumpkin." Olivia bit out.

"Since when?"

"Since forever."

He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't know that."

"Why would you?" She griped. "It wasn't like we ever ate a meal together."

His frown firmed. "Does Ramsey know you hate pumpkin?"

"Yes." Her chin lifted proudly. "He makes a point of never ordering me pumpkin spiced anything."

"He knows one thing about you." Drake grumbled.

She shot him a murderous glare before gathering items to make an apple pie.

"Feeling homesick?" Drake asked.

"No." She searched for cinnamon. "Why?"

"Did you forget your country is obsessed with a certain fruit?"

She rolled her eyes.

"When's the last time you baked a pie?" He followed her down the aisle. "Was it for the Apple Queen trials?"

Her shoulders stiffened. "I've baked since then."

"Really?" Drake's eyes settled on her profile when she paused to examine different flours.

She cut her eyes to him. "You really think I'm like all the other nobles don't you?"

"Good Lord, no." He chuckled. "No one at court acts like you."

A reluctant smile appeared on her face. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." He grinned at her. "That's one of the things I like most about you. You were never one of them."

She shrugged while setting a bag of sugar in the basket. "I never saw a reason to act like them."

"It's a shame more aren't like you."

"Ha." She rolled her eyes. "If they were, you would not only be miserable but probably suffering from multiple stab wounds."

"I'm serious." Drake took the bag of flour from her.

Their fingers grazed one another's.

He felt a jolt of disappointment that she was not affected by their touch.

"Most of them could learn a lot from you." His lips firmed into a half smile. "That's one of the reasons I wish you would hurry up and come back home."

Olivia's eyebrow lifted. "You have other reasons for wanting me back in Cordonia?"

"I do."

"And they are?"

"A grocery store aisle isn't really the place to discuss them."

Her eyes narrowed in concern "Is it security?" She lowered her voice and checked to make certain no one was really paying attention to them. "Is someone after Liam and Riley again?"

"No, I didn't mean--" he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Liv, I meant that I miss you."

She snorted on a surprised laugh. "You? You miss me?" She walked off toward the produce section, still shaking her head. "That's hilarious."

He gripped the grocery cart as he followed after her. "Yeah, who would've thought it possible?"

She began to pick through the apples. "Not me or anyone we know."

"Maxwell knows."

She stilled.

"What?"

"Maxwell knows or knew about us. He figured it out whenever he noticed us sneak out." He muttered.

Angry spots of color appeared on Olivia's cheeks. "And you went ahead and told him he was right in his suspicion?"

"I didn't have to." He snapped. "He knew by how I acted after you left."

"How you acted?" She glared at him. "Are you that hard up to find someone to meet your needs?"

"Stop talking about it like that!" He exclaimed. "It wasn't just--"

"Yes, it was exactly that!" The apple in her hand began to drip juice from how hard she was squeezing it. "That was all you wanted. It was all I wanted in the beginning!" Her eyes held his. "We got together because we couldn't be with the ones we thought we were in love with."

Drake staggered back. "That's not--I never--"

"Oh please." She tossed the apple back with the others. "I saw it throughout the entire engagement tour. You wanted Riley just like I wanted Liam to choose me."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't use you to--"

"You did." Olivia's tone eased into a more matter of fact level. "And I allowed it because I was doing the same with you." Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "Drake, we started our thing the night of their wedding reception! You can't tell me you came to my room for me." She turned back to the apples. "You came for yourself."

"I--" his head dropped back in frustration. "Fine. But it didn't stay that way." He stepped up beside. "I started coming for you."

She ignored him.

"Was it Liam the whole time?"

Her head jerked up. "Would I have stood there like a simpleton asking if what we had was going to turn into something if I still had feelings for Liam?"

"No." He slipped his hands in his coat pockets.

She finished picking apples and pushed the cart toward the checkout.

Without a word he followed her.

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

The silence between them was deafening. Drake had never experienced a more uncomfortable car ride before. Every few seconds he would cut his eyes to Olivia, only to be more perplexed by how relaxed and content she appeared.

Her head was bent as she answered a text from Amanda wondering who had been at her door and then she saw one from Ethan.

Her lips curved as she read how much he was looking forward to the next few days with her.

"Liv?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you--"

"You drove past my apartment building."

He cursed and made a quick right to circle back around.

"Why didn't you--"

"Just stop here." She ordered. "I can go in this side entrance."

"Let me find a place to park."

"There's no need." She reached behind her for the bags of groceries. "I can easily carry these."

"Yeah, but I wanted to--"

"You should really get going." She lifted her eyes to the gray clouded afternoon sky. "You're losing daylight."

"Damn it Olivia!" He snapped, hitting the steering wheel. "Why won't you let me talk about it?!"

"Because there is nothing more to say!" She yelled at him. "Why do you keep harping on it?! We had sex. Yes, it was enjoyable but I now need more." Her chest rose with her frustrated breaths. "And I have found someone who gives me what I need."

"You really think this Ramsey is what you need?" He taunted. "One day you'll leave here and he will see the real you in Cordonia. This Boston bubble you're living under is going to pop. What will he do when he sees you as a duchess, mingling amongst the court?"

Drake wanted to hurt her since she didn't seem to care that she had and continually did hurt him.

"You think he'll adore you then? Just wait until he hears all the tales of your years of temper tantrums and cruelty."

All the color drained from Olivia's face.

The stark pain reflected in her eyes made him feel like the biggest jerk in the world.

"Liv, I didn't mean--"

She scrambled out of his car, slamming the door behind her.

He watched her until she disappeared into her building.

Drake dropped his head on the steering wheel.

He wasn't sure how his plan on reminding her the good between them had instead showed him as the worst possible ex she had ever had.

[evexe-n]

30, 34, 37 & 38 please! :D

[40 questions - meme for fic writers]

30. Do you accept prompts?

Ehm, not at the moment? I still have some from a year ago that went unanswered………OTL

Though I always reply to random headcanons/plot ideas sent my way, and I sometimes end up doing a drabble of lil’ ficlet for it, in general I’m very bad at writing what I’m told/asked to write………

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

YOU HAVE OPENED THE FLOODGATES. IN SHORT, I HAVE ANGRY EMOTIONS™ ABOUT IT (but below the cut for brevity’s sake. Also this won’t be about the YGO fandom so much as a general rant for all of the fandoms I’m in).

Trigger warnings(?) for brief(?) discussion of the way non-con and all related themes were portrayed in some of the less avory fics I’ve read, for lack of a better term.

Ok so let me start this off by stating that I did, once upon a time, not have as strong an aversion to fics with the non-con/dub-con label as I do now. I never actively seeked them out, but I never flat out refused to read a fic for containing these themes either. It’s how I came across many of the things I’m about to sum up. I’m still of the opinion that if you like reading them or they help you in some way, that’s great!

However, over the years I, personally, have developed a strong dislike of 95% of all dub/non-con fics, because I continuously encountered a lot of things that squick me in those stories. Here’s some specifcs:

In case of the non-con occuring between the main pairing:- I prefer reading fics where I don’t absolutely hate one of the main characters. When I love a pairing enough to want to read/write fic of them, I tend to love both characters equally. Having straight up non-con between them is a surefire way to ick me out- Here’s a point that’s going to come up a lot: often it’s just really OOC. And if it’s not OOC then it usually uses tropes like sex pollen/abo/aliens made them do it, which have their own subset of problems. Some people don’t mind OOC portrayals, but I am not one of those people

In case of the non-con happening between one main character + someone else (usually an antagonist):- I get it, you need an evil ex. For plot reasons. But I guarantee you there’s about 99 more creative ways to make this person a douche without immediately going the full-out non-con route. Especially when it’s an established character for whom it would be completely OOC.- Not every villain has to lust after/prey on your protagonist, it’s ok. Sometimes they can just be murderous psychopaths or megalomaniacs without the added sexual predator vibes. I promise you they’ll still creep me out. You lose shock value when you make every villain have the same motivation (namely, subjugating your protagonist by fucking them) so maybe switch it up every so often?- Alternatively: just because ‘rapist’ is shorthand for ‘evil asshole’ doesn’t mean every evil asshole in your fic has to be a rapist.

Just general things about dub/non-con fics that squick me out:- Please, I’m begging you all, stop using rape as a plot device to create drama and prolong the resolution of your fic. This is aimed at those fics that are going along nice and steady, nearly all loose threads are resolved when suddenly, oh no, kidnapped by the abusive ex/someone got taken advantage of after they got drunk at a party/etc! Fics where rape is treated as nothing more than another bump in the road that the couple needs to overcome to be together is just, yikes.(This does NOT refer to the fics where the author has a story to tell specifically about dealing with (sexual) abuse and and trauma. When it’s the entire focus of the fic, it’s usually treated with due respect instead of ‘ok and then A got raped by C but B still loves A so they’re all ok again in 2k words bc true luv’)- I heavily dislike power imbalances/abuse of authority, and this can be played up beyond belief in non-con- So often I’ll see the ‘dub-con’ tag used for something that, by all means, should be labeled non-con. I’m willing to accept ‘these two idiots are pining for each other but think it’s unrequited, both get drunk and make out/sleep together while intoxicated oh no’ as a dub-con, maybe. If only one of them is drunk? If both are drunk but one is explicitly saying no? If they’re under the influence of outside forces (ye olde ‘sex pollen’ trope)? That moves from dub-con into non-con territory imo, because either only one party could give full consent, or none could. I don’t care how enthusiastic they were about it Deborah, your a/b/o heatfic still has a total lack of clear-minded consent- Here’s the big one that I wish I had never encountered, but I have: fics where non-con/rape is described in detail, as in, it’s treated as if it’s just a run-of-the-mill PWP fic and written as if I’m supposed to find this sexy????? UHM??? I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to find this traumatizing to read, and I am, but for all the wrong reasons.

There is the remaining 5% of fics tagged dub/non-con that I CAN read, and even love sometimes though, just to be clear.

Fics where the dub/non-con happened in the past, off-screen. The further removed from the act itself, the more likely I am to be able to read it. I don’t have a problem with reading about trauma aftermath, I have trouble reading romantizations of non-con.

I can read PWP fics involving bdsm scenes of rape fantasies, but even then it has to be established that the two people about to engage in this scene are all on board or I’ll close the tab in 0.001 seconds flat

Fics dealing with the aftermath of canonical abuse/rape/trauma/etc. If only because these fics are often written by salty fans, so they rarely glorify the acts that were depicted in canon and include a fair amount of knowledge (or research at the least) on both the characters and their traumas. These fics I do seek out sometimes to get closure for something canon glossed over. If you think this point is about comics, it is. Specifically about Dick Grayson (Robin I/Nightwing). I’m willing to throw hands about both the Mirage and the Tarantula incidents they put him through and then handwaved away. Don’t get me started on that Deathstroke and Terra thing back in the day either.

Tl;dr - I prefer my fics consensual, that’s the baseline here.

37. Talk about your current wips.

...................suffering. That’s it that’s all my WIPs thanks for coming to my TED talk.

On a more serious note, I think most people that follow me know that the big WIPs are the 5SOD one and WDMC. WDMC is next in line to be updated as of now, but fuck if I know when I’ll get around to writing the end of that chapter. For a fic where I already know the entire plot, writing it sure isn’t going smooth =-=

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

I don’t think I could name a singular review that made my day, so much as all reviews do that for me? And this does include tags on reblogs for fic updates on tumblr, those are amazing to read.

Basically I just crave validation and feedback, so I thrive on every single comment I get. The YGO fandom especially spoiled me with this, because y’all just seem to love leaving comments??? I’m so happy with it, but it was one hell of a culture shock when I wrote stuff for other fandoms afterwards & comments came in less often.

here’s a fun little comparison, because I love analyzing my fic stats!

YGO, sorted by kudos:

vs my other stuff sorted by kudos

(I’m not shaming the other fandom btw, they are rly generous with their kudos and I love them for it, it just took some getting used to because of the different levels of feedback that I got. Unless it’s chaptered fics, that one did really well for some reason :’) )

That being said, I get really giddy when people comment on fics that I consider personal favorites. For YGO, Hypnagogia is one of them, as is The Flower Speaks (for the sheer amount of effort I put into it haha).

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Home- Part 1

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,221

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Summary: You thought you would never see your family home ever again. You thought that your unanswered questions would remain a mystery. But That all changes... today. 

Author’s Note: Seriously guys, I am so sorry this wasn’t up today. I guess there was too much on my mind and I forgot. I will try and get better at posting these. 

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. 

This episode is more focusing on the reader and her past and I hope you guys like it. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

You still haven’t recovered from that bug incident but Dean was making sure you never lived it down. You’ve been enduring countless amount of teasing from the man until you threatened to cut his dick off, gluing it to his head because he liked to be a dick head. That got him to shut up and you haven’t heard a word about it since.

Right now, you were currently crashed at a motel for the night but you weren’t sleeping. As much as you tried, your body refused to let you sleep. You happened to borrow Sam’s laptop, doing some research on what happened to your mom.

You lived next to the boys until she died so you tried looking up the police record for it but without actually going to your house, you couldn’t do anything. You read online that it was selling and you wanted to go but with Dean finding cases left and right, it’ll be a while until you actually got a chance and by then, people would already be living in it.

A gasp brought you out of your thoughts and you saw Sam sit up straight on his bed. Dean was out cold but you frowned when you looked at Sam. You were always sleeping on the couch because you were the only one that fit well enough on it.

“Was it Jessica?” You said as you watched Sam’s head look at his brother and his chest rapidly breathing.

“What?” He jumped at the unexpected voice and looked over at you.

“Did you dream about Jessica again?”

“No, this time, it was something else. I had a dream of a home.” He sighed. You perked up. Maybe this was your chance to go to your house.

“What about it?” You bit your lip.

“There’s a family living there and I dreamed that a woman was trapped inside the house by a dark force and it was up to me to save her. It looked like she was calling out for me.” Sam sighed and shook his head.

“My house is for sale.” You said, completely off topic.

“What, it is?”

“Yeah, with you mentioning houses, I would like to visit mine. There’s so many questions and I don’t have answers to them. I want to go back there and see what I find, even if it is nothing.” You sighed.

“I’ll talk to Dean in the morning.” Sam laid back down.

“We will.” You smiled and closed the laptop. You set it on the coffee table and made yourself comfortable.

“Was that my laptop?” Sam asked into the dark.

“Maybe.”                                

Morning came along and Dean was on Sam’s computer while Sam was drawing on the motel notepad. You were sitting on Dean’s bed, thinking about your mom and what you might find it if you visit there.

“Alright. I’ve been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali – its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey.” You looked up and saw him staring at you and his brother. You weren’t paying attention at all. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.” Sam said, looking at his drawing.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times. Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?” Dean waved his hand around, hoping Sam would see him.

“Wait. I’ve seen this.” Sam said, looking at his drawing. You didn’t know what it was but you were going to find out.

“Seen what?” Dean asked. Sam got up from the bed he was on and went to his duffel bag, searching through it. He grabbed his dad’s journal and you were curious to what he was doing. You walked over to him to see what he was holding. He was holding a picture of his family: his dad, his mom, toddler Dean and baby Sam in front of their house. He compared the drawing he drew and the picture. He drew a tree.

“Dean, I know where we have to go next.” Sam looked up, a bit startled at you next to him but he shook that off and stared at his brother.

“Where?”

“Back home – back to Kansas.”

“Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

“Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?” Sam walked to Dean and showed him the photo he had. With a nod from Dean, he continued. “And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Okay, look, this is going to sound crazy but…. the people who live in our old house – I think they might be in danger.”

“That is crazy, why would you think that?”

“He had a dream last night.” You said without thinking. Both boys looked at you and you looked at Sam, giving him an apologetic look.

“You had a dream?’ Dean scoffed.

“Look, it’s a lot more complicated than it looks. I had nightmares of Jessica’s death days before it happened. I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it because I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this must mean something, right?

“I don’t know.” Dean sighed.

“Dean, come on, I lived right next door and my house is for sale now. I need to go back there to see what I missed. There must be something that I missed there. I have all these unanswered questions.” You explained.

“Alright, just slow down, would you? I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when…” Dean sighed heavily.

“When what?” Sam asked.

“When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?” You stared at Dean, tears forming in his eyes but they refused to fall. You never knew their mom but you knew it was a sensitive subject for him.

“Dean…” You stepped to him but he backed up, shutting people out. That is what Dean did and that is what he is good at. But hell, if you were going to let that happen to you.

“Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.” Sam pleaded.

“I know we do.” Dean gave you a glance but sighed, putting his wall back up. Dean was very reluctant but you and Sam got him back on the road and he did it. He actually drove to his old house. You gasped when you passed by your house. You looked at it, standing proud as if nothing bad ever happened inside of it.

“You going to be all right, man?” Sam asked his brother.

“Let me get back to you on that.” He sighed, getting out of the car. You got up but you couldn’t stop staring at your house. It was like memories came rushing back to you because you could see 8-year-old you, walking home after the bus dropped you off.

“Y/N?” Dean said, bringing you back.

“What?” You looked at him.

“You coming?”

“You two go. That’s your house. I’ll be right next door.” You gave him a smile and he nodded, walking off with his brother. You turned back to your house and there you were again, skipping and walking home like you weren’t about to see your mom die. You felt your legs walk but you don’t remember moving.

“No, don’t go in the house.” You said to your younger self but she couldn’t hear you. You watched as she walked inside the house and closed the door. You bit your lip and slowly walked to the front door, gripping the door knob but never turning it. It was when you opened the door, you could hear your mom yelling for you. But you had to do this for her and for you. You opened the door and that's when you heard it.

“No!!! Stay away from my daughter!!” Your mom yelled as a man stalked towards her.

“Mommy?” You said, frightened. The man turned when he heard your voice and you screamed when his eyes weren’t normal. They were pitch black.

“No!” Your mom got out a bottle with maybe water in it but when she flung it at the man, it burned his skin and he screamed in pain.

Your memories were inching their way to the surface, one by one and you didn’t know if your heart could take it. Already it was hurting, as if your mom died yesterday and not 30 years ago. You walked into the house and looked up the stairs.

“Y/N! Get out of here! Go find John Winchester!” Your mom screamed to you. She was bleeding on her head and her arm was slashed from something.

“No, mommy! I don’t want to leave you!” You started to cry.

“Y/N!!” Your mom said again. The man who was chasing her came up behind her and slit her throat from behind. Your mom gurgled up some blood before she fell to the floor, sliding down the stairs, stopping at your feet. By now you were in tears, scared of the man who disappeared in front of your eyes.

The house was empty but in your head, you saw all the things that went wrong that day. You passed the stairs and walked into the kitchen where you saw pots and pans flung everywhere and broken glass from the glass table you had. Of course, this was all in your head.

You seemed numb on the spot but your feel dragged you to another room. The living room had chairs broken and some were toppled. A leg from one of the chairs was sticking out of the wall as if something threw it there really hard and it stuck. Your eyes became fixated on the blood stain on the wall. That was where your mom was hit in the head.

Your main goal of this was to go upstairs to the attic where you hid weeks after your mom’s death because that was your haven for a while until authorities caught you and sent you back to John. You slowly walked up the steps, careful not to step on the blood trails. None of it was there but you were seeing it all.

You looked around and saw that the bedroom door was open in your mom’s room so, you went there first. The door creaked as it opened and you saw your mom and 4-year-old you on the bed, reading a book.

“Y/N, this is the last book I can read and then you have to go to bed.” Your mom smiled.

“Okay, I will, I promise.” You said yawning.

“You know the story of Rapunzel, how she had miles and miles of long, blonde, hair.” Your mom looked at you but you were already curled up to her side, sleeping soundly.

You didn’t know you were crying until you tasted salt on your tongue. You turned away from the empty room and walked across the hall to your room, peeking inside. It was actually your nursery this time but you didn’t care.

“Oh no, baby, don’t cry. Momma’s got you.” Your mom picked you up and held you to her chest, rocking you. You were crying loudly but when you heard your mom sing, you began to quiet down.

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better...”

You felt a hand touch your shoulder and you gasped, turning around to see Dean and Sam behind you.

“It’s okay.” Dean pulled you into his arms when he saw you crying.

“I have to know what happened, Dean.” You sniffled.

“I know you do.” He said softly.

“I have to check one more room.” You pulled away from his warm embrace and walked away from them, pulling on the string to the attic. You brought the ladder down and started to climb up, Sam holding the base for you. Dean followed you up to see what you were going to do.

You immediately went to one of the brick walls and took out your pocket knife, carving out one of the bricks.

“What are you doing, sweetheart? Want a momento?” Dean asked.

“No, my mom said that if something ever happened to her, she would hide a message in the walls for me, explaining it all. I don’t know what “explaining it all” means but I’m about to find out. You pulled the brick loose and looked inside, frowning at what you found.

“What is it?” Dean asked, going over to you.

“A note and a key, a car key.” You made sure nothing else was back there and placed the brick back. You stood up and put the stuff inside your jacket pocket.

“Are you going to read it?”

“When I’m not scared of the answer I will.” 

Part Two

Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist // Buy me a Coffee?

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat

Forever tags:

@crowleys-short-girl @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

[tkuhnhackl]

1-70

i can’t tell if i love you or hate you rn but i really don’t want to do anymore work on this placement nonsense so we’ll go with the former, thanks

i’m stupid enough to actually do all these but i will put them under a read more to spare y’all

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? yeah, i’m really close to both of them. we’re all a little nuts in the family, but in the best way.02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? my mom, when talking to her on the phone on the way back from work today (well, technically i said “love ya, shorty” because my family is not good at sentimentality without a little bit of roasting but close enough, i suppose)03: Do you regret anything? I already answered this!04: Are you insecure? I guess? It’s weird - I’m very comfortable with who I am, that sort of stuff, but things that have happened in the past have made me insecure about aspects of myself - so I suppose my answer is that i’ve become fairly good at disguising my insecurities over time05: What is your relationship status? single af06: How do you want to die? quickly, fairly painlessly, in a blaze of glory - there’s one Brian Jacques novel where the Long Patrol hares mount a final charge to stall the enemy and 8 year old me was absolutely ready to go out wielding a longsword in one hand and a sgian dubh in the other and tbh i’m still lowkey up for it07: What did you last eat? i had tacos for dinner with homemade barbacoa beef (i froze half of it when i made it back in february so i am finally treating myself to the rest of it)08: Played any sports? baseball, softball, basketball, tennis, and soccer/football. i also did field hockey briefly and ran track and field (primarily hurdles) for a year; i wanted to do short track speed skating but my parents were too worried about my safety09: Do you bite your nails? yup, i’ve tried for years to break the habit but every time i get stressed, it happens again10: When was your last physical fight? i’ve never been in a full-on fight; probably high school was the last time that anything even came close to that level and it was still not particularly close11: Do you like someone? already answered this one too!12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? once? usually i end up taking a nap, even if just for an hour, so it rarely ends up being 48 consecutive hours13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? i mean, on an impersonal level, there are famous people i despise. in my own personal life, there are a handful of people that i dislike enough to perhaps call hate but i also don’t believe in wasting my time being angry with them if they’re not even in my life anymore14: Do you miss someone? answered this one as well!15: Have any pets? the loves of my life, my dog Flora and my parents’ dog Liam. also the spider who lives in the corner of my room because sometimes it’s nice to pretend that counts as having company16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? tired, overwhelmed, ready for another vacation, helpless, frustrated, but also hopeful because i’ve got three potential job leads that came up this week (but can’t be followed up on until I return home in Sept)17: Ever made out in the bathroom? nope18: Are you scared of spiders? no, i love spiders as long as they don’t encroach on my personal space19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? as an art history person, absolutely. there are a lot of questions that i had to leave unanswered in my research papers and i’d love to just be able to ask the artists in person (and maybe punch picasso and jackson pollock and tell bierstadt to calm down a bit with the entire congress incident because no one cares about those pictures anymore)20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? a dorm room (idk if it counts as a snog but we’re counting it nonetheless)21: What are your plans for this weekend? finish getting my portfolio done for this placement and hopefully book another trip for next weekend22: Do you want to have kids? How many? i definitely do not want to birth any children, but i’d certainly be open to adopting later in my life should my life lead me in a direction where i feel ready, able, and willing to open my heart and home to a kid. probably only one, definitely no more than 2.23: Do you have piercings? How many? two ear piercings, i used to have my nose pierced but that ripped out in a very painful moment and i’m waiting for it to heal completely before i get it repierced24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? i was a fucking nerd in high school; i think the only subject i struggled a bit in was physics and that’s just because i don’t like theory - in uni, i took classes in a bunch of different departments, but my best ones were art history and anthropology25: Do you miss anyone from your past? answered this as well!26: What are you craving right now? poutine from the Yard, good Knights hockey, a brain that functions in a healthier way, and an end to my writing block27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? i don’t think so? i mean, i feel like it’s highly unlikely28: Have you ever been cheated on? can’t happen if you’re not even in the game 😏29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? see above answer30: What’s irritating you right now? my flatmates, the other work placement who won’t shut up and insists on using the library computer with the cataloging software despite me reserving it, my professors’ general incompetence, international politics31: Does somebody love you? romantically, no, unless the cheesemonger’s really committed to our non-existent relationship. but i’d like to think my close friends and family do (otherwise the love you’s we exchange at the end of conversations are awkward now)32: What is your favourite color? russets and other earth tones33: Do you have trust issues? hahahahahaha yes34: Who/what was your last dream about? i don’t actually remember? i know i woke up disoriented a few nights ago because it was something realistic but idk what i actually dreamed about35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? i cried in front of my mom on skype recently; in person, also probably my mother when she visited a few months ago (moral of the story is that i refuse to cry in front of anyone that’s not family)36: Do you give out second chances too easily? depending on what happened, i really don’t do second chances at all. i’m an expert at putting things in my past and, while i don’t often burn bridges, i’m more than happy to let them fall into ruin on their own 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? to forgive is easy (depending on what was done), but forgetting is much, much harder38: Is this year the best year of your life? depending on my paper grades and this dissertation and whether or not someone wants to hire me, it could well be, but it sure as hell does not feel like it39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 1840: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? no way in hell51: Favourite food? beans and rice52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? not really - i do believe that every experience is one that can be learned from and every one has some sort of value, but i believe that the “happens for a reason” idea ascribes more sentience to the universe than i like53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? did my daily duolingo requirements so that the owl didn’t show up in my bedroom and murder me54: Is cheating ever okay? no, i don’t think there can be any sort of justification for betraying someone’s trust55: Are you mean? not particularly, i can be if i need to be but i prefer not to (i prefer to go for the ‘asian mom threatening glare’ that i have inherited from my mother)56: How many people have you fist fought? zero; for all its portrayals on tv and movies, my experience in american public school had absolutely no physical fights57: Do you believe in true love? no, i find that the concept can be so limiting and people feel pressure to find some ideal that may not really exist (i’m not a romantic in any way, shape, or form whoops)58: Favourite weather? spring, when it’s right on the edge of summer, so it’s warm enough that you can wear absolutely anything and still be comfortable, and the birds are nesting and the flowers are blooming, and the world just feels so alive59: Do you like the snow? yes, but my sad frostbitten toes can no longer handle the cold so i must now limit my time in the snow so i don’t lose them completely60: Do you wanna get married? i wouldn’t say i want to get married; if i find someone and we end up getting married, great. if i stay single the rest of my life, also great. it’s one of those things that i don’t feel is a necessity to make my life complete, but i’m not necessarily opposed to it either if it happens. I have so many things on my bucket list for life, but romance has never been on it.61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? i will accept “babe” but will not accept baby unless it’s followed by giraffe. 62: What makes you happy? dogs that wag their tail a little faster when they see you, the way puffins fly and land, the sound and sight of sea birds reuniting with their partners after spending the last year apart, lilies of the valley beginning to peek out as the seasons change, fruits and veg picked straight from my garden, good food, excel spreadsheets, being the only one in a gallery in a museum and getting to be alone with the art, sharks that challenge our perspectives on what sharks are supposed to be and do, my sports teams winning63: Would you change your name? no. for a long time, i did because it’s always getting mispronounced and, when you go to a predominantly white school district, it’s always hard to be the one kid with an obviously non-white name. but also my last name means ‘king of snakes’ and fuck if anyone’s taking that away from me64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? nope, she remains very dear to me65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? run screaming for the hills, catch me sailing out to shetland on the next ferry because that’s a conversation i don’t want to have66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? yeah, i don’t really believe in having close friends that i cannot act my complete self around, regardless of gender67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? my dad? non-family, the regimental representative at the museum i work at, who’s basically my work dad (who i cook for because i worry about his health)68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? i avoid all deep emotional conversations, so it’d probably be my parents (specifically my mother because my dad is like me). but i did have a deep conversation about politics and race with a girl i met on my trip this weekend up north69: Do you believe in soulmates? answered this as well70: Is there anyone you would die for? absolutely

[revertxmus]

💋 4. hand. To Anna... because I want cuddles B/

Send 💋+ a number to kiss my Muse: 4. On the hand || @blackcuttingmoon

okay idek what this is but I’ve twisted our timeline a bit and stuff. jus deal with it okay it’s like 1am anyway

   The playground she had stumbled upon was currently abandoned, not a single child or parent in sight to make use of the spot. It wasn’t particularly surprising, was school ending in a few minutes only – or so Anna assumed. Alas, she had never attended a public school; hadn’t even gotten close to one considering that, for the longest time, she had been in the Nanakamado Chemotherapy Research Center, after all. Or rather, what the research center was hiding – the ward made specifically for strains such as herself.

However, today was special. She had been allowed to leave, her aunt picking her up early in the morning under the supervision of Mizuchi Kōshi. The girl could still feel his glare on her, his quiet way of commanding her to not spill their SECRET, to not even THINK about running away or FIGHTING. What they were doing was important, after all; her own sentiments and needs paled in comparison, so she’d have to bear with what they were putting her through. Or else—–

—–Or else her aunt would suffer.

Lips tightened into a thin line at the memory echoing in her head, those words so bluntly told to a seven year old girl. ( She hated this. ) The thought of Honami being exposed to any kind of danger when near her prompted the girl to run from her aunt’s apartment – the blue clansmen keeping tabs on her not yet alarmed enough to intervene with her doings, or so she’d assume from the absence of any of them nearby.

Yet there was another person approaching her, one she only noticed when she lifted her gaze from the sand she had dug the heels of her azure shoes into as she swung back and forth ever so faintly on the swing. It was the boy she had met once before – when she had been truly lost but too prideful to ask for assistance of those following her. His expression was troubled and curious all the same, and she couldn’t blame him. What a sad sight she must be, once again completely by herself and finding solace in the silence.

Anna did not reply to the soft ‘Hey’ he uttered, small hands clenching tightly around the chains at her side whilst merely watching him kneel down next to her. Her crimson eyes were dull, contrasting the chaste blue colors of her dress and headband ( —–just like the puppet she was made to be; docile and obedient ). 

She felt it; the worry rising within him, a brotherly instinct kicking in that he couldn’t help and that he could apply to so many children within this neighborhood, capable of understanding the pain they might be going through. How KIND of him. But she still wouldn’t talk, lips refusing to part to speak of any of her concerns to him ( he was a stranger, and she ought to keep it this way ). So Ichigo was met with silence, any questions he may be imposing remaining unanswered while the girl’s eyes shifted elsewhere. Even when one of her hands was taking into one of his, his palm completely enveloping his tone grew more urgent ( why she was alone again, if she was lost again, did she need help, should he bring her back to that place from last time again—–? ).

But she remained firm; firm but not unwavering, the tears gathering in her eyes prompting the teenager to grow quiet himself – his eyes attentively on her features until that droplet slides down milky skin. All he can do to offer comfort is raising her hand to his lips, a brief kiss pressed against her knuckles. A gesture serving as a reminder to keep strong, that she wasn’t alone; that life would not always stay bad—–? 

Oh, Anna wouldn’t know; and she found it hard to believe in her current situation. 

She’d hold onto the thought regardless.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Beauty of Bucharest

Hiiiiii I’m the Insomniac Writer. I try to write one shots/drabbles and they become 7,000+ word novels. 

Summary: Steve and Sam tried to find Bucky for 2 years. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as Steve thought. (fluff/one shot/drabble) [Steve & Sam]

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 7,052

Bucky stared at the cyro chamber. It was so much more welcoming than the one Hydra used to shove him into. It almost looked peaceful in comparison. A doctor was taking blood pressure and other readings. Bucky wasn’t paying attention, his mind in a secret place no one could take from him.

“Sure about this?” Steve walked into the room. Bucky knew this was hard for him. The best friends had just managed to reunite and it was already ending before it had even begun.

“I can’t trust my own mind.” Bucky said. Then her face flashed into his mind and he laughed lightly to himself. It was like she was trying to prove him wrong, saying See? Your mind trusts me. “So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing...for everybody.”

The doctor came back with a syringe in his hand. “This is a sedative.” He informed Bucky with his thick Wakanda accent. “It will simply make the cryo-stasis process painless for you.”

Bucky dipped his head slightly in understanding. “Can you give me a few minutes?” The doctor nodded and the two of them some privacy. Then Bucky looked up at his friend with desperation. “Steve, you’ve already risked everything for me. I-I don’t know how to thank you…”

Steve gripped his shoulder. “Buck, you don’t gotta say anything.” He took in a deep breath and added softly, “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

Bucky nodded, already expecting such a response. “I just need to ask for one more thing…” His jaw clenched at what he was about to say.

“Course, Bucky. Anything.” Steve urged, not know what to expect.

“I need you to find someone for me.” Bucky stated. “Her name’s Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

Steve smirked at that. “Huh. Despite all this time, you’re still the same Bucky I know…always chasing after girls.”

“No, Steve.” Bucky instantly shot down. His seriousness wiped Steve’s smirk right off his face. “It’s not like that.”

“Well, then what’s it like?” Steve was now very intrigued.

Bucky looked down at the ground, finally allowing himself to dig into his memory. It was the only good one since being lucid in the 21st century. His lips turned upward into a very sad smile as her face showed itself in his mind.

-----

“How do you know what she looks like?” Sam murmured as he stayed in step with Steve. There were academic looking people rushing all around them, yet no one had recognized the two of them yet. Sam was keeping tabs on attention while Steve continued walking like he was on a much more serious mission.

Per usual, they were wearing baseball hats pulled low over their faces. Sam had his aviators on still, despite being in the dark lighting of New York Public Library.

“I googled her…” Steve answered as if it were obvious.

Sam chuckled, realizing it was the first time Steve ever used that cliché. “Well?” He pushed.

“’Well’ what?” Steve feigned obliviousness.

“Is she hot?” Sam said a little too loudly.

Now they were in the main study room. There was a comfortable silence in the hall. Every so often, you’d hear someone cough or turn a page. Other than that, it was a peaceful escape from the noisy city.

Steve couldn’t help but smile a little to himself. A warm feeling always washed over him when he discovered somewhere that was older than him. It made him feel less out of place for once.

“Is she hot?” Sam whispered, refusing to let his funny jab go unanswered.

Steve glared at him before glancing around the room, studying the faces of everyone.

It was only 30 seconds later that he found her. It was like his eyes were pulled to her movements like a magnet. Sam instantly noticed his expression change, having decided to watch Steve instead of look for someone without any sort of physical reference point. Then Sam followed his gaze.

There was a young woman standing up and lightly placing book after book and notebook after notebook into a messenger bag. Her hair was in an effortlessly messy bun, little pieces falling out everywhere and somehow framing her face perfectly. Also framing her face were her thick-rimmed glasses that kept sliding down her nose as she tried to pack up her belongings. She wore slightly baggy jeans, yet her outfit looked clean with a fitted shirt, wool blazer, and leather loafers.

Sam seemed slightly mesmerized, but managed to snap himself out it; unlike Steve. “So she is ho-”

“Yeah,” Steve interrupted before Sam could finish. “She’s beautiful.” He breathed.

Then she was heading out, but right in their direction. As soon as her eyes came up from the ground, they found Sam and Steve, who were standing right in the middle of the walkway between the two masses of desks.

She stopped suddenly and stared at them with…with…was it fear?

Steve saw this as his cue to approach, Sam following instantly.

“Ma’am, I’m St-”

“I know who both of you are.” She cut Steve off with a brusque tone. It gave both men the hint that whatever they were about to say, she didn’t want to talk about it here.

Next thing they knew, she was unlocking the door to her NYC apartment. Sam and Steve shared a look, surprised with how trusting she was to two strangers.

“Do you want some coffee?” She asked them. It was the first words she’d spoken since the library. They both nodded, too scared she was going to snap at them if they said no. It seemed like she needed to do something anyway.

They were sitting in silence. She was holding a steaming mug of coffee with both of her hands as if it was the only thing holding her together. The room was so quiet that they could hear the ticking of an old fashioned clock.

“You are Y/F/N Y/L/N, right?” Sam felt the need to handle the awkwardness.

Y/N just nodded but stared at the ground as if she were mentally somewhere else. Then her eyes lifted to meet Steve’s. They looked broken and on the verge of tears. “Is he…Is Bucky dead?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Steve’s eyes widened at the question. Now he understood the way she was staring at them in the library: she’d thought they were here to tell her Bucky had died. Her tone had been almost rude because she wasn’t ready to break down in a library in front of all those strangers.

“No!” Steve practically yelped, rushing to assure her that was not the news they were here to tell her. “Bucky-Bucky’s fine.”

“He just might be missing an arm…” Sam chuckled to himself.

Steve glared at him. “Sam!” Then his gaze softened when he looked at Y/N again. “If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly do you know Bucky?”

“He didn’t tell you?” She asked, figuring they knew the whole story if they found her. “Are you sure Bucky’s okay?” There was a flicker of suspicion in her eyes. Steve sighed. He didn’t want to tell her right away about Bucky’s current predicament. But Y/N was making it clear that she needed to know Bucky’s status before sharing anything with them.

“He’s in cryostasis in Wakanda.” Steve explained.

“In Wakanda?” She blurted out.

“It was his choice. Hydra’s brainwashing is still there. He’d been through hell. He asked to do it until we could figure out how to get his mind back under his control.” Steve paused. “Before he went into cryo, he asked me to find you…to tell you that he was okay.”

A few tears silently slid down Y/N’s cheek as she shook her head. “I was convinced they killed him after he was taken in Romania. There was nothing on the news anywhere…not in Romania or America or Berlin.”

“So that’s where you met?” Sam intervened. “In Romania?”

Y/N nodded.

-----

Y/N had just been dropped off back into town from Bran Stoker’s castle. She’d been there all weekend to research and explore. But the person who she hitched a ride with back into Bucharest hadn’t factored in that it was 2am and the area they’d left her at was not the best.

Y/N, too happy with all the exploring she’d been doing, shrugged and started making her way back to her apartment.

She was walking under a street lamp that suddenly started flickering eerily. It was like a signal to be on alert. That’s when she saw a group of men walking toward her. None of them seemed to be walking straight and their loudness informed her they were drunk. She didn’t have to be fluent in Romanian to figure that out.

She held her backpack tightly. She had a baseball cap on and she pulled it lower and flung her hood on top of that. Maybe if they didn’t realize she was a woman, they’d be less inclined to harass her.

But Y/N had some sort of aura that gave her away.

They instantly tried to speak English to her. It must have been the baseball cap that gave her away. Women never wore them here, let alone most men.

She tried to shove her away around them, ignoring their broken English. But one of them didn’t like that. He pushed her a little too roughly. Her anger overpowering her fear, Y/N shoved back. That resulted in one of them hitting her across the face so hard that she flew to the ground. This is your cue to run, her gut now told her.

But before she could even manage to get back on her feet. There were noises all around her. She realized it was the sound of fists hitting flesh and the men whimpering or yelling. When she glanced up, she found a man giving one punch to the predator that had hit her across the face. There were already two others on the ground. How had he already taken down so many of them?

It was very fast, but time seemed to slow as Y/N watched him scare the other half of the group so badly that they were practically dragging their injured friends away in a sprint.

Her hero watched them disappear into the distance before turning to her.

She rushed to her feet and took a step back, still not trusting him.

He held up his hands in submission. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“You’re…you’re American?” Y/N gasped.

He nodded, hands still raised.

“T-thank you. For saving me.” Y/N stuttered, now going into shock. Romania was a very safe country. Sometimes she believed it to be safer than most places in America. She was embarrassed for some reason, blaming herself for not being more careful, for not politely asking the person to drop her off closer to her apartment.

Y/N started walking again.

“Wait…you’re bleeding.” The man said in a rushed voice.

Y/N stopped and felt her face, realizing that her lip had split and there was a cut at the edge of her right eyebrow that was now trickling blood down her face. “Fuck…”She muttered through a hiss as both stung on her touch.

“I have a first aid kit at my place. It’s just around the corner.”

But Y/N was no longer trusting. Then she realized that she had nothing even close to a first aid kit at her place. And everything was closed, so she couldn’t go get stuff.

“I promise I just want to help.”

Then he stepped closer and the streetlight gave Y/N the ability to finally make out his face. She was shocked to find an extremely handsome face looking back at her. Despite looking a little rough and unshaven, he was rather stunning.

“I’m Bucky.” He very slowly held out his hand for her. Like he knew what it was like to be on her end of this: vulnerable, scared, and unaware of what to do next.

There was something in his eyes that made her believe him to only have good intentions.

She shook his hand. “Y/N.”

Next thing Y/N knew, she was walking into this man’s apartment. It was dingy and dark. By the way he lead her in, it was obvious he was slightly embarrassed by it. He pointed to the faded couch, silently instructing her to take a seat.

Then he was leaning in front of her with a first aid kit. “Can…do you mind taking off your hat?” He asked quietly.

“Oh…right.” Y/N quickly pulled down her head and took her baseball cap off, her finger naturally combed through her hair, freeing it. Bucky gave her a look that she didn’t quite understand. “Does the cut look worse?” She asked him in a panic.

He winced as he quickly broke out of his trance and scanned her face. “There’s a bruise forming on your cheekbone.” But that wasn’t the reasoning for his look. What he’d tell her later was that her beauty caught him off guard. She’d been hiding her face under the hat and hood that he wasn’t expecting it.

“Asshole really put his back into it…” Y/N muttered more to herself.

Bucky cleaned her wounds and apologized every time she even slightly recoiled. He assured her that the cut on her eyebrow wouldn’t need stitches and it was normal for facial wounds to bleed that much. He gave her a frozen bag of peas to put on the bruise that was getting purpler every minute.

“You’re the first American I’ve come across here.” Bucky said. “What brings you to Romania?”

Y/N gave a shy smile, all feelings of unease slowly fading away. “I’m researching for my thesis. I’ve been here for a couple weeks…have 3 more months to go.”

Bucky nodded. “What are you researching?”

Y/N sighed. She always hated talking about it. People usually had reactions that made it obvious they thought her subject was weird or that she was wasting her time and money. “Umm…I’m writing about the mythology in dark romanticism of the 19th century.” She slightly shrank, waiting for that dreaded reaction. But Bucky patiently waited, wanting to hear more. “So I’m in Romania for some research and inspiration regarding Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Then I’m off to Berlin for Frankenstein. Then I end my trip in London for my research on The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

To her shock, Bucky seemed rather impressed.

“Frankenstein…wasn’t Mary Shelley British?” Bucky surprised her even further.

Y/N let out a laugh. “You are very right. But her novel was inspired by a lot of things in Germany.”

Silence filled the room again.

“And what about you?” Y/N asked.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the question. “I’m just passing through.”

Y/N nodded, not ignoring the vagueness and mysteriousness of his answer. But she respected his privacy enough not to push it. “Well…I should probably get going.” She stood up quickly.

“I’ll walk you home.” Bucky said. It wasn’t an offer or question, but a statement. 

“You’ve done enough. You really don’t have to do that.” Y/N protested.

“I’d like to…” Bucky said surprisingly soft.

-----

For the next couple of days, and unbeknownst to Y/N, Bucky made sure she got home safely. She mostly went to the library or the university, sometimes to a café. But when one is in hiding, there really isn’t much else to do. Bucky spent his days trying to remember and Y/N was a break from him mentally beating himself up. 

That’s why he was surprised to find her at the front of his apartment building with two large paper bags in her hands. She looked to be struggling a little bit with them. 

Bucky quickly walked towards her and she met his gaze. “Hi! Sorry…I hope this isn’t weird. But I just thought I had to do something to say thank you for that night.”

Without asking, Bucky took the bags from her grasp. “What is all this?”

“Well…when I was here, it didn’t seem like you had a lot of groceries. The frozen bag of peas you gave me for my bruise expired a year ago.” She laughed lightly at the memory. 

“You really didn’t have to do that.” Bucky said sincerely. These days, he really didn’t think he was deserving of anything. “Do-Do you want to come up?”

Y/N smiled at that. “Yeah…actually the other part of the gift was me making you dinner tonight.” Then her confidence seemed to dwindle at his surprised face. “Is…ugh…is that okay?” She asked through a shrinking expression.

Bucky didn’t know if it was the loneliness, her beauty, or her utterly genuine kindness that made him go against all the unwritten rules he’d made for himself. Don’t form any relationships with anyone, friends or friendly acquaintances. But this girl was making him want to break that rule. 

Next thing he knew, he was leading her up the stairs to his apartment. Once he set the grocery bags down onto the counter he looked at her. “You know, you really don’t have to do this.”

There was a moment where Y/N just stared at him almost sorrowfully, like she knew he’d had some sort of a rough time. Then she gave him a small, endearing smile. “I know. But I want to.”

Then she jumped into all the food that she’d bought him, explaining how it was all healthy in different ways. Then she told him what they were having for dinner. As she packed all of the food into the fridge, freezer, or counter, Bucky realized she must have spent well over $200 on the groceries. 

Y/N continued talking about her day. She tried to ask him easy questions, things that weren’t too personal and wouldn’t make him uncomfortable. The situation could have easily become awkward or weird. But that’s what was mesmerizing about her. She just had a presence that filled whatever room she was in. It wasn’t a desire for attention. The only way Bucky knew how to describe it was like a summer breeze arriving right at the moment when you were starting to get a little too warm. She was refreshing without startling you. 

Bucky leaned against the wall, watching her bustling around his kitchen. She refused to let him do absolutely anything, except open up a bottle of wine she got and pour both of them a glass. He watched with a small smirk. 

That’s when he knew that she wasn’t going away any time soon. 

-----

There wasn’t really a courting process for Y/N and Bucky. Y/N mostly just arrived at Bucky’s apartment unannounced. She’d either make sure he had food to eat or would drag him out of the apartment to a café or sight seeing in Bucharest. Sometimes she’d come over just to study or write, claiming her roommate was too loud and it was impossible to concentrate at her place. After a couple weeks, he gave her a key to his apartment. 

Y/N didn’t ask for much from him. She was very careful about getting to know him, realizing that he would run away if she were too forward or pushy. She liked the challenge and somehow knew Bucky was worth it.  

There were times where Y/N wasn’t sure if Bucky liked her company, if he was just too quiet or polite to tell her to get lost. But then, every time she said she had to leave, she caught this sad look on his face. Y/N had to use everything but his words to figure out what that man was thinking. 

One night they were sitting at Lake Cișmigiu. One of Y/N’s friends had told her how pretty it was right at dusk. Y/N of course brought Bucky to see it. Maybe it was the beauty of the whole thing that made her brave. But she thought it was finally time to get some answers. 

“Bucky?” She said softly. He just hummed. “You’re running from something, aren’t you?”

Bucky tore his eyes away from the scenery to look at her. She knew the answer already; this was her kind way of asking him to open up to her finally. 

“Something like that.” Bucky said darkly. 

“You know you can tell me, right?” Y/N felt the need to add. 

“I’m not a good man, Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed at his dramatics. “Now that’s just simply not true.”

Bucky narrowed his gaze, not appreciating how lightly she was taking his statement. “And what makes you so certain?”

“You saved me… me, a complete stranger, from god knows what.”

Bucky was silent. 

Y/N shook her head. “You wear hats or hoodies everywhere you go. You hardly ever look anyone in the eye. You handled those men that attacked me a little too well. You have a metal arm that you’ve never actually explained.” 

He still said nothing. 

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Your best friend is Captain America.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to hers. “You knew?”

“One of my friends at the university is studying WWII. He was showing me some of his stuff last week. I saw your picture in a history book, Bucky.”

Next thing she knew, Bucky was standing up and already trying to walk away. “You shouldn’t come to see me anymore, Y/N.” His voice was almost a growl. He knew his past was bound to catch up to him at some point, he just never expected it to show itself in this way. 

But Y/N jumped to her feet and went after him, managing to match his pace alongside him. “That’s not all I know. After D.C., SHIELD managed to post all of Hydra’s files across the globe. You didn’t do any of those things, Bucky… Hydra did!”

Bucky stopped walking and leaned down toward Y/N. “I know what I did. It doesn’t matter if it was Hydra. I still did them.” Then his face softened and he reached up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, but he stopped himself. This was forbidden, now more than ever. “Y/N…you can’t see me anymore.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky!” 

“Don’t you get it, Y/N? People are after me. Hydra wants their weapon back. And if they don’t get to me first, the government will.” His flesh hand went through his unruly hair and he looked around, anywhere but at Y/N’s gaze. “I-I can’t let you get in the middle of it. I’ve been responsible for too many deaths. I can’t let you be one of them. I can’t risk your safety…even if you-” He stops. 

“Even if I what?” Y/N whispered. 

“Never mind.” He said harshly. 

“I need to know the ‘even if’, Bucky. Because that’s the thing that’s going to stop you from running away from me.”

But Bucky was walking away again. Each of his steps was three of Y/N’s. He should have known she wouldn’t give up so easily. 

She quickened her space and cut him off abruptly. Before he could say anything that was hurtful enough to push her away, she grasped his face with her hands and her lips crashed against his. Bucky was helpless. Y/N made him weak. Lord knows he had wanted to kiss her since the night that they met. But he managed to have enough self-control to stop himself. He knew it would complicate things and it would end in something that Y/N didn’t deserve. 

He couldn’t stop himself now as his hands wrapped around her waist and he kissed her back. Y/N was playing dirty and they both knew it. It seemed like time had either slowed or sped up beyond them. Bucky didn’t care. He just opened his ice blue eyes to find Y/N smirking up at him. 

“Now stop trying to acting like I’m some damsel in distress and definitely stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She said in an unwavering voice. It left Bucky speechless as she grabbed his hand and started pulling them home. 

That night, Y/N went back to Bucky’s apartment with him. Only this time, she didn’t leave to return to her place until late in the afternoon the next day.

-----

It didn’t take Bucky long to fall in love with Y/N. Perhaps it had already happened that night she showed up at his apartment with two bags of food for him. She only had three months in Romania. It took one for them to finally kiss and sleep together. The other two months they spent in an intimate bliss. Bucky already planned on following her to Berlin and London. It would be trickier to hide, but he was being somewhat naïve. The reason he chose Romania in the first place was due to the lack of tourism or officials that would recognize him. 

Bucky was laying in Y/N’s bed, sitting against the headboard. Her place looked like a palace compared to his hideout. However, he only let himself stay there when her roommate was out of town. 

Y/N was sleeping peacefully, only a thin sheet covering her unclothed body. The window was open slightly and the breeze would softly brush hair out of her face.

Meanwhile, Bucky was writing in his journal. 

It was Y/N’s idea. She thought it would help him remember things. “Write it all down, no matter how little it may seem or how painful. Maybe you have to remember the bad to also get to the good.”

Bucky looked at the clock and realized Y/N would be waking up at any moment. He thought he’d go out and get breakfast and coffee for her. 

He started getting dressed in his usual inconspicuous clothes. Y/N teased him about it, always saying he looked like a homeless person. But Bucky assured her that it was completely necessary. He also never walked in or out of the main door in her apartment building. Instead, always taking the fire escape since tall trees covered it. When Bucky took his assurances to protect Y/N seriously, she would lighten the mood by calling him Romeo. It was one of the few references she’d make that he actually understood, which only made her want to call him it even more. 

Just before leaving, with his baseball cap throwing a shadow over his scruffy face, he took a glance at Y/N. She was still fast asleep. Not being able to help himself, he kissed her bare shoulder and then her cheek. But he cursed himself internally when she started to stir. 

Y/N squinted at him with one eye half open. Bucky found it adorable. “Hmm Bucky, stay.” Her voice mumbled and filled with sleep. She grabbed his gloved metal hand and kissed it. 

“I’m going to grab you breakfast and coffee. I’ll be right back. I promise.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her up further. “Go back to sleep, doll.”

She nodded and sighed, doing just that. 

Bucky went to the market and instantly spotted the fruit stand. Y/N had read somewhere that plums helped with memory and insisted he eat a couple a day. Bucky didn’t really believe in it, but he ate them to let her think she was helping or taking care of him in some way. She struggled with feeling helpless in his struggles. 

He managed enough Romanian to purchase the plums. Now he had to grab coffee for Y/N and some sort of pastry. He was about to cross the street when the square echoed the shrill of police sirens. Bucky’s body stiffened. Every time he had to remind himself that he wasn’t the cause or reaction of them. 

But then he looked up at the man running the newspaper stand. He was looking at Bucky as if he recognized him and then his expression turned to fear. Bucky couldn’t help it as his feet started walking toward him. Even more terrified, the Romanian printed from the shop, completely abandoning his post. Bucky ripped the newspaper he had been reading from the stand. 

Bucky didn’t have to be fluent in Romanian to decipher the headline written in huge, bold font: SEARCHING FOR WINTER SOLIDER AFTER BOMBING IN VIENNA. Underneath was a blurry image that the world now believed to be him. 3 months ago, his heart would’ve dropped for his safety. But the first thing that he thought of was Y/N. 

Bucky was sprinting through the square now. Not apologizing or holding back his strength as he ran back to Y/N’s place. It didn’t matter what attention he was causing, they were coming for him already. 

He’d never jumped up the fire escape as quickly before and practically dove through Y/N’s window. To his surprise, she was wide-awake, dressed in jeans and one of his ratty t-shirts. 

She watched her television in horror. Next she was rushing over to Bucky, wrapping her arms around him like he was going to evaporate. 

“Bucky, someone bombed Vienna! The King of Wakanda was murdered! And…and they think it was you!” She was sobbing into his chest. 

He gave her a moment to at least calm down a little. She wasn’t going to like what he needed to tell her. Eventually her sobbing and shaking lessened before she pulled away. 

“How are you so calm?” She whispered in astonishment. “Someone is trying to frame you, Bucky!” 

Bucky wiped a tear off her cheek before gently gripping her chin with his thumb. “Y/N…everything’s going to be fine. I need you to finish packing all of your stuff for Berlin; your train is leaving early tomorrow.” He was trying to lessen the blow by slightly distracting her. 

But Y/N was too smart for that. “No… No! Bucky no! I’m not going without you.”

“Y/N, please. I’m begging you.”

She was violently shaking her head. “They’re on their way for you. I know they are. But I’m coming with you. I can vouch for you, Bucky! You were with me all of yesterday and last night! You were here! You aren’t responsible for any fucking bomb! It’s impossible!” 

Bucky’s hands clung her face now, forcing her to look him in the eye. She tried to fight it, but he was too strong. “Y/N,” He began almost too calmly. “Y/N…I promised myself I wouldn’t make you a part of this. You need to keep going. You need to go to Berlin. You have to finish your thesis, finish school, and write that damn book, okay?”

Y/N blinked in bewilderment. “What’s the point in any of that if you’re dead?” Her voice was a terrifying whisper. It chilled Bucky to the bone. 

Bucky kissed her because there was nothing left he could say. This was the way it had to be. He had to protect her before he protected himself. Bucky would fight for his survival; fight as hard as he could. If it wasn’t for him sake, it was for hers. 

Y/N kissed him back, but couldn’t ignore that Bucky was kissing her as if it were the last time. It was too much for her to handle.  

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered. It was the first time he ever spoke the words, but God, did he know it for quite some time. 

“Why does that sound more like a goodbye?” Y/N practically whimpered as tears started flowing silently down her cheeks again. 

“I love you.” He repeated in a stronger tone. 

“Don’t do this, Bucky.” Y/N hissed. She refused to say it back. To return the sentiment meant that all of this was actually happening. She wanted to say it when their bare skin was touching and they were exhausted from spending the whole night awake in each other’s arms. Not when her world was falling apart. “I’ll find you.” It was the last thing Bucky said before he edged back out the window. 

Y/n sprinted to the door of the apartment to race after him. But he had already predicted her stubbornness. His metal hand had bent the door handle so badly that she was temporary locked inside. He did the same thing to window he escaped from moments ago. Even after leaving her, he assured Y/N couldn’t put herself at risk for him. 

Realizing what he did, Y/N almost threw up from the feeling of helplessness. The news was the only thing that could even slightly inform her of Bucky’s fate. She sat there for days watching the television, even when the landlord came to fix the door. She prayed for them to tell her anything. But all the Romanian authorities said was that a terrorist had set a bomb off in a tunnel. Who knew if any of it was true?

-----

Silence filled the room again. 

“You were there when it happened? You were in Bucharest?” Sam’s voice was quiet and sensitive. There was no longer a joking manner in his demeanor. 

Y/N just nodded. She was wiping a single tear that managed to escape during the retelling of her and Bucky’s story. It was the first time she’d ever told anyone. Her eyes remained glazed over, stuck in the memory of Bucky. 

“He did the right thing.” Steve tried to defend his friend, even now. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop the SWAT team. They had orders to shoot on sight. Bucky knew it wasn’t safe for you.”

“I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.” Y/N said bitterly. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to love men like you, to see you put yourself in harms way and not being able to do anything to help?”

“I do.” Steve and Sam responded in surprising unison. 

Y/N breathed, realizing it was an unfair question. “The worst part was my friends and family thinking I just had a typical romance abroad. I couldn’t even tell anyone what really happened. Even when I convinced myself that he was dead, I still couldn’t betray him by exposing the truth… even to people closest to me.” 

“Because you loved him.” Steve added, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“That moment still haunts me. I wish I had told him. I’ve regretted it every day since.” Her eyes were blank now; everything she was seeing was in her head. It was hard to stay present when she thought about Bucky. Finally she blinked herself back to real world. “So that’s it? He asked you to find me to tell me he’s alive.”

Steve and Sam shared a look. This was the part they’d been dreading. 

But Y/N was smarter than they realized. Just from watching their silent exchange, she put it together. 

“He’s not coming back.” Y/N mumbled. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

But Steve, after hearing their tragic love story and seeing Y/N, immediately knew that his best friend couldn’t let this girl get away. She was beautiful, intelligent, and clearly had a kindness in her that rivaled Steve’s. 

“Y/N, he’s scared he’ll hurt you.” Steve sighed. 

She rolled her eyes. “That’s always his excuse.” 

“After they took him, someone said the words, the ones that initiated Hydra’s brainwashing. He hurt a lot of people, could’ve killed them if we hadn’t been there.”

“But T’challa’s team thinks they can get him back on his feet.” Sam added to everyone’s surprise. 

Y/N nodded. Then her sad eyes met Steve’s gradually. “What did he tell you to say when you found me?”

Steve looked at the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words that could possibly push Y/N further away from Bucky. His best friend deserved to be happy. And with what little time he had to get to know Y/N, he believed she deserved that happiness too. 

To his surprise, Y/N reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. I want to know.” She assured him with a sad smile, barely catchable. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Bucky said, ‘Tell her I’m sorry for leaving her, that I’m okay. And…and that I want her to move on. She deserves someone better than me.’” Steve’s voice started to shake slightly. “That was the last thing he said to me before they put him under.”

Y/N nodded as a tear slid down her cheek. She roughly wiped it away with the back of her hand. “You don’t have to tell him you found me.” 

“What?” Sam exclaimed. 

“His lack of self-worth won’t let him have me in his life. Just let him forget about me. Bucky doesn’t need to live in the past. He needs to move forward.”

“But you still love him…” Steve pointed out. She didn’t respond. “Is there someone else?”

Y/N laughed ironically at that. “When a woman falls in love with someone like James Buchanan Barnes, you don’t ever truly move on.”

There wasn’t much else to say. Steve didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to fix the mess that Bucky was trying to make. But Sam gave him a look that said they were overstaying their welcome. Y/N looked like she was going to break down at any moment and the fact that she hadn’t already meant that she didn’t want to let it happen in front of them. 

Y/N held the door open for them. 

Sam gripped her shoulder and gave her a small smile, hoping it shared the words of comfort he didn’t think was his place to say. She managed to give a desolate grin in return.  

Then it was Steve. “Y/N, I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for Bucky. I lay awake for two years thinking he was lost and alone. I’m glad that he had you. And I’m honored to have been able to meet you.”

Surprisingly, Y/N pulled him into a hug. “Please take care of him, Steve.” She breathed into his shoulder. He nodded. 

Sam and Steve walked the busy streets of New York in silence. It wasn’t until they were on a jet, flying back to Wakanda that Sam said, “So what now?”

-----

Bucky awoke to the medical machines beeping and the faint sound of the jungle. He blinked rapidly as his eyes struggled to adjust to the warm and bright lighting. 

“Welcome back to the living.” A voice chuckled to his left. 

Eventually, Bucky’s vision managed to focus on the smiling face of his best friend. 

“How long was I under for?” His voice was so raspy from lack of use. 

Steve’s smile faltered slightly at the question. “You were asleep for 8 months. T’challa got his team to figure out a plan as fast as possible.”

The hospital room filmed with silence again. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked softly. His friend’s eyebrows rose in anticipation. “Did you find her?”

Steve looked disappointed, looking at the ground instead of at Bucky. “No…we couldn’t find her, Buck.” Then he reached for something on the bedside table. “But I did find this…” He handed it to Bucky. 

It was a book. No, it was Y/N’s book. Bucky’s eyes filled with unshed tears. His fingers traced the metallic font that spelled out her name. 

“She did it.” He muttered to himself. 

Steve made sure to keep a neutral expression. 

Then Bucky opened it and happened to fall right on the dedication page. His eyes saddened as he read it. 

“What’s it say?” Steve inquired gently. 

Bucky hesitated a moment before clearing his throat. “To the man who was brave enough to love me when he still hadn’t learned how to love himself. I should have told you I loved you on that terrible day.”

“Sounds like she really loves you.” Steve said. 

----

Y/N was doing anything to stay cool. Her hair conditioning was on the highest speed and the coolest temperature. She was wearing as little clothing as possible: grey boy-shorts and a matching bralette. She was trying to make herself something to eat without having to heat anything up. In her hand was a self-made margarita that was melting so quickly, condensation made it difficult not to let glass slip through her fingers. It was her last attempt at cooling her body down. 

Despite being hot, she couldn’t help but skip and slide around the kitchen to the music she was playing. 

She was doing a little spin when a dark shadow was caught in her peripheral. Her feet skidded to a stop, leaving the shadow behind her. Y/N breathed heavily and closed her eyes, telling herself she was being pathetic again, imagining things. But her heart was begging her to turn around just to be sure. 

When she finally did, she was met with blue eyes that were so icy they sent a chill down her spine. 

“I think I’m suffering from a heat stroke…” Y/N gasped. “Because there’s no way you can be standing in this apartment right now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. If Bucky wasn’t a super soldier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hear her over the roaring of her air conditioning unit. 

“I’m really here,” was all he said in return. 

Then Y/N, as ridiculous as it was to worry about, looked down at her attire…or lack there of. “This really wasn’t how I imagined our reunion.” 

Bucky smirked at that and shook his head. Y/N never failed to amuse him. 

He was closing the distance between them now. It was strange to see him in normal and modern clothes. No baseball hat. Instead, his hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Even the winter soldier had to fight the heat. He was wearing a white t-shirt and khaki pants. It was all so bright, he almost looked like a stranger. He must have borrowed them from Steve, Y/N thought. 

His metal hand cupped the side of her face. The cold felt like heaven against her skin. Y/N shivered and closed her eyes. If this was a dream, she didn’t want to ever leave. She’d take the terrible heat if she got him too. 

Bucky’s face inched closer to her. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I missed you.” His whisper ghosted across her ear. 

Just as his lips were about to meet hers, Y/N snapped her eyes open. “If you’re here, you’re here. Because I can’t go through losing you again, Bucky.”

“I’m yours forever, Y/N.” Bucky declared before his lips crashed onto hers. “I’m not leaving you again.”

WHOOO! We did it. That was a lot of work. Thank you for reading. Please reblog/review/like... please please please. 

[gastrific-blog]

yikes so many stuff left unanswered.

Sorry i disappeared guys, the thing is i’ve been dealing with a pretty shitty life (more details under read more if you want to know ) and had no energy to come here or time. I do plan though to bring Gastly back! so expect him to be back in some few days asap i can manage time and energy ! bcs i honestly miss my ghostly playful pokemon fellow! 

the reasons why i honestly have been lacking presence here and on many of my other blogs tbh is because well...how to say this.

i am suffering from narcissistic abuse. and i only realized it recently. Furthermost at the hands of my shitty birth givers. 

Now, for those who don’t have info/ are aware of this, i will just explain it a bit further: i realized that the manner they were treating me was not being overprotective, no. Rather they just want me to not leave their house because they want me to serve them, and since i refuse to do so they treat me like shit. like shit equaling to: insulting me through names like ‘stupor, bag of shit, plague, bitch, attention-seeking whore, selfish , ungrateful...etc.’ they also constantly threaten me with physical violence if i want to do something my way and not theirs, or menace me, even going as far as to humiliate me in public, and spreading ill rumors about me on my back (though tbh I've seen it happen when i was but a mere 8 year old child. my ‘mother’ was speaking ill about how i mistreat her. the thing is even then my subconscious was already defending me from their abuse without me knowing it. ) just for a lost contact lens once, i was hit in the face hard and scarred on my arms as they pulled me with force against the wall. well, of course, i don’t expect people around me to believe me since outside the house they put on the goodie two shoes act, and having their image tarnished is their biggest fear.the thing is the last drop was given as i’ve witnessed them insulting my dog and tried twice to kick them. i will not tolerate that.

they honestly give me no value. when i try to give opinions the sperm donor (forgive my language but you see for me they are no parents or family, they are just creatures that mean nothing to me but pain by now) often tries to shut me down, saying ‘how i don’t matter, my opinion means nothing, or i don’t know about anything’ when i’ve went through hell at school years and now what the house spends and clearly research a lot and know stuff from ebbing informed, clearly proving that i am far more smart than them: they know that and try to make me feel miserable; i could even be pouring milk to my cup and they would be criticizing me by the way i do things when nothing is wrong. 

they even went as far as to omit information for me and make me try to sign a contract of a medical insurance without reading, and half filled without my consent. they tried to hit my dog twice too, and called me or them by awful names.  

as you can imagine this is stressful for both me and my dog, and even when nothing’s happening we fear for our lives, because you never know when they might snap. they’re toxic. it’s making us feel dead inside. i can’t sleep without my door closed now because i fear for my safety, i often wake up in the middle of the night either bcs i can't sleep well, or because my dog wants to go to the ‘bathroom.’

for you to feel even more sickening, that sperm donor even went as far as to say he supported the street harassment i went through when at times i go walking on the streets and there are assholes who catcall me. ...not even for their own ‘daughter’ they have compassion. worse yet they are a former court officer  which is sickening and awfully disgusting. not even after telling them how that makes women feel unsafe and awful for having their bodies and appearances seen as a walking peace of meat, and how we feel endangered walking in the streets like that and how this is the reason many such as myself took defense classes , they understood it. they are one of those many bigoted mysogynistic, sexist assholes who think that is a compliment.

not only that but both of them in public seem friendly with anyone , and in private they even went as far as to joke with my asian neighbors calling them derogatory names, or mocking a woman’s disability with names such as ‘black widow ‘ or even mocking a homosexual acquaintance of them when they tried to invite them for their wedding, asking ‘who’s doing the paper of the woman?’ !  passing it off as a joke. for me a person’s sexuality is not a joke, which makes me realize had i happened to be something else than straight, i would’ve been put out of the house.

they are so ill and sickening, that one time the sperm donor followed my grandma ato the bathroom, to check if after she used it it was left clean . do you find that normal?!

even more the birth giver has returned to her smoking habits and dared to smoke inside the house and me being an asthmatic person, took in the smoke without wanting it, and ended up with my throat burning and coughing for 1 hour to try to expel the toxins, having to see myself forced to open the windows. what did they do? they went to close my windows and screamed at me for ‘ how i was causing a scene and the neighbors were hearing everything! ‘ . their worry was not me or my health, it was their image. which sickens me honestly, i stayed with a burnt throat for 4 days at least if not more - and they knew i was asthmatic and the consequences of this action.

as if this hadn’t been enough i already suffered bullying in all these forms on my school years and they never supported me , even now, with proof after the cyberbullying attack i had they still blame the crime against me. and think i treat people bad. no i don’t, but i will not take shit from assholes.

the worst is i am in a way dependent on these narcs , on these abusers because i am working in the same firm as one of them. i want to move out with my dog hopefully even this month or the next one because this is draining me, no, even killing me inside, day by day. as if it wasn’t enough i have to deal with traumas, ocd, ptsd, and being in a workplace where everyone tries to pull a dagger on my back or to others, since 80% of the people there are narcs or enablers and the worst is that shitty ‘birth giver ‘ of mine allows it all, and condemns me whenever i try to defend myself. 

as you can deduce this is draining me inside and out. i don't feel like smiling at all lately, i don't feel sad but i don't feel also 100% happy, far from it.  i plan to move out this month or the next one, which might mean i might not have internet right away too but... the thing is I've been trying to get my license and i failed the last time i  did the exam because im basically drained. im not giving up but i am drained.

so yeah my life’s been pretty shitty. in one of the imagines blogs i have i opened a donation fund in case you’d like to help. even 1$ would help tbh. there’s no limit date or quantity because i have yet to know how much i will need since i will have expenses for my medications and my dog too but... yeah just so y’know.

Thanks.