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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years

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It’s the Best Time of The Year

Genre: Fan Fiction (Night Hunter) Pairing: Lt Walter Marshall /Reader Warnings: Pure Fluff! Get your sweet tooth ready! Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: A little fluffy, okay a lot of fluffy, Christmas-ish Walter.

Henry Cavill Master List

From outside the house, Walter could hear Holly Jolly Christmas blaring throughout, unlocking the door and trudging inside he kicked the snow off his boots before leaving them on the mat beside the front door. Typically, this would lead to him lecturing you about being aware of your surroundings. Anybody could break in and...he stopped seeing you and his daughter attempting to waltz through the kitchen.

Racks of cookies were littering the counter tops, various sized boxes took up what cookies didn't. Squares, pies, and handmade chocolates took up even more space on the table, spilling into the dining room. Someone had been busy. Blissfully unaware of his presence, you and Faye continued to laugh and dance. Aprons and cheeks covered in flour. Faye's dark hair had splatters of red icing here and there.

Foregoing the lecture, Walter gave in – this once. Watching for a few more seconds before clearing his throat to alert you of his presence.

“Walt!” You exclaim letting go of Faye, the two of you giggling like crazy, “You're home early.” You rush to give him a quick peck.

“Harper forced me out.” His laugh is soft and deep. Eyeing you and his daughter, he raises his brow. “Did I interrupt, ladies?”

“Not at all. We were working on dinner, while finishing up some baking.” You answer happily, smiling wide. The music continues to play, at a lower level, thanks to Faye.

“Hey dad.” The teenager hugs her father tightly. Kissing the top of her head, Walter takes a deep breath resting his chin there for a moment. “So, off early. Did Hell freeze over?”

“Language.” Walter mumbles, nudging her. “And no. I am home early, because I have decided to take a few days off. Harper decided I should start early. Come home and enjoy the chaos.”

“Excuse me?” Faye is wide eyed. “Did I hear that right? You, my father, Walter Marshall, are taking a few days off? Dad, are you dying?”

“No,” Chuckling Walter shakes his head. Sliding his arm around you, he pulls you closer. “I had some time to use and decided to spend Christmas home. Is that a big deal?”

Giggling, you wink at Faye indicating that there is more to this story than her father is telling her. Tapping her foot on the tiled floor, Faye wrinkles her nose. She's not buying it. No where in her memory, did she recall her father taking time off.

“Uh huh. Right, okay.” Rolling her eyes she scoffs.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Walter glances at you.

“Because you never take time off. Ever.” You answer for Faye.

When Walter had told you that he wanted to take Christmas off, it was startling. He rarely took time off and always worked the holidays. Faye would stay with her mother, while Walter practically lived in his office. “Crime doesn't take Christmas off.” He would fuss. In the four years that you had known Walter, two that you were together, he hardly took time off for anything. Upon further discovery, it seemed nobody could remember the last time the Detective took more than a day off. A whole week off, including Christmas, this really was some sort of Christmas Miracle.

“Which is why I have decided to take the time. Is it a crime that I want Christmas with my family?”

“No.” Faye shrugged. Stirring the sauce in the pot, Faye sighed. She was not buying whatever her father was selling.

“Why don't you run up, get changed, and we will have dinner nearly ready by then.” You gently pat Walter's chest, giving him another quick kiss. “Go, we can marvel at the impossible when you come back down.” Not missing the chance to tease him.

Shaking his head and muttering about what terrible influences you and Faye were on one another, Walter returned the kiss, before turning on his heel and heading to change out of his office attire. Downstairs you and Faye had reverted back to your antics, tossing a piece of lettuce at her you laughed when she smacked you with the salad spoon. Walter would pretend to ignore it, but you knew that he enjoyed the chaos. He especially loved that you and Faye got on so well.

He would tell you every time she came over, how much he loved that she had decided to love you as much as he did. It was pretty hard not to love her back. When you had started dating Walter, you knew he had a daughter, and an ex-wife. Both, who at times, gave him grief. You had quickly worked out that it wasn't in a malicious intent, they simply worried about him. Especially Faye.

“My god that smells fantastic,” Walter commented walking through the house to rejoin his family.

“Faye made it,” You beamed with pride, arms wrapping around Walter's torso. You loved how warm he always was. Even more so since the winter had once again came. Snuggling into his side, you felt him relax while you watched Faye finish dinner.

“And who made all these?” He gestured to the baking.

“It was a joint effort.” Looking over her shoulder from the stove, Faye answered with a smile. “We're taking some down to the station tomorrow.”

“They will love that,” Walter smiled softly.

“Since you're off for vacation, we could use the extra pair of hands.” Faye winked, sticking out her tongue. “Or if we take you to work, will you end up staying, because crime doesn't take Christmas off.” She did her best impression of her father. You couldn't help but snort a little.

“Hush, you.” Walter bumped you with his hip. “I can go to work and not work.”

“Oh really?” Faye challenged. “Why did you all of a sudden decide to take time off, anyway?”

“Well,” Walter cleared his throat, leaning over you to reach for a snowflake shaped cookie, “I wanted to take some time to celebrate.”

“Should we tell her?” You ask watching Faye's expression. Confusion growing.

“Think she can handle it?” Walter teased.

“Yes!” Faye urged, bouncing on her feet. “Yes, tell me!”

The suspense was going to kill her. There were a million things in her mind. Whatever her imagination was telling her, you could only hope this was going to be as good. Faye was a good kid, you had worked hard all afternoon, worrying that you would let the cat out of the bag. Walter would have been fine with you sharing the surprise, but you wanted him to be there, too.

“Okay, but I want you to know that this changes nothing. I am still going to love you and...”

“Oh my GOD!” Shouting and squealing, Faye waved her hands excitedly. “You're pregnant!”

Wide eyed Walter nearly choked on the second cookie he had swiped. Laughing, you can feel his heart racing like a damn cheetah. Her face was priceless, but it was time to break her poor little heart.

“Uh, no.” You pout and shrug. “No brothers or sisters, yet.”

“Okay, so then what...”

“We're getting married.” Walter announced, unceremoniously. His eyes bright and his smile infectious.

“Dad!” Faye exclaimed, her hands wildly waving in excitement. “You were supposed to let me help you. Holy shit, how bad did he screw this up? Where's your ring? He did buy a ring, right? I told him about the...”

“Faye,” Walter's tone was stern.

“He didn't screw it up, at all.” You pat his chest, beaming. “And there is a ring, but it had to be sized. I'll have it back next week, but I have pictures.”

“Oh my god, I NEED to see them!” Shouting happily, Faye forgot about the dinner she was making. “Let me see! I need to see it! Dad! This is amazing!” tears in her eyes she hugged Walter's neck tightly.

Hugging his daughter, tight, Walter felt a wave of relief. He had assumed that Faye would take the news well, but one could never be too sure in these situations. Letting go of his neck, Faye wiped her eyes quick, before attacking you in her next hug.

Excitedly squealing as she loosened her grip, Faye paused. “Who else knows?”

“Us, you. We wanted to tell you first.” Walter spoke, as he took over dinner.

“How long have you...”

“Four days,” You wipe your own tears. “Oh my god, Faye. It was so perfect and so unexpected. Your old man has charm.” You giggle like a teenager. “I was getting ready for work...”

“You asked her while she was getting ready for work? Dad,” Faye rolled her eyes at him.

Walter shrugged it off. Whatever, you'd said “yes” that was good enough for him.

You had been upstairs in your bathroom, getting ready for work, when you'd walked out to Walter in the hall way. Kissing you, he took a step back, revealing the black box in the palm of his hand. No words. No grand gesture. But you knew exactly what he was asking. Tears, blurring your vision you allowed him to open the box and slide the slightly larger than needed ring on your left hand.

“It was so cute, though.” You defend your fiancé – You can't help but mull the word over. It feels so...odd to think of Walter in such terms.

“Dinner,” Walter announced turning off the gas on the stove. Not that it mattered, the two of you were still talking about how he had proposed and the things you loved, verses what Faye would have had him do differently. Whatever. You two would eat when you were good and ready.

“This is so amazing! This is going to be perfect. Can I come dress shopping with you?”

“I would hope my maid of honour wants to come dress shopping.” Catching Walter's eye, you winked.

“Really? I don't know...wow.” Breathing deeply to steady herself, Faye shook with delight. “Really? You want me?”

“Yes, silly!” You exclaim, hugging her again. Oh god it felt so good to tell Faye the news. Your head would have exploded if you'd had to keep this quiet any longer.

Grabbing your hand, Faye linked her fingers with yours, the two of you twirling around laughing and chattering about weddings. Walter was comfortable to lean against the counter watching the two of you dance around like fools. Dinner would keep, he could heat it in the microwave later. Dancing and singing to It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas, you broke away from Faye, dancing over to Walter.

“May I have this dance?” You wink, pulling his arm.

Unfolding his arms, he allowed you to take his hand. Expertly twirling you around, Walter smiled when Faye whistled. Who knew her dad could dance? Moving you back to him, Walter held you against his chest gently swaying to the time of the music. He had spent a few nights this week dancing happily around the kitchen, living room, hell even the bathroom with you. It was silly, but Walter was beginning to enjoy the laid back approach to life.

“Faye,” Walter furrowed his brow, sighing. Pretending to grump as she recorded the two of you.

“What? You two are adorable. Dad, when did you get those moves?”

“I happen to be a fine dancer,” Walter let go of your hand, grasping Faye's free hand and taking her by surprise. Quickly handing off her phone, Faye carefully followed Walter's lead.

Laughing when Walter spun her around, sending her across the room, Faye caught her balance on the edge of the breakfast table. She could never remember her dad having this much fun or laughing this hard. Dancing around, you laugh when Walter quickly dips you pulling you back up and kissing you softly. Faye's mock retching noises going ignored.

“Thank you,” his lips against your, Walter smiles.

“For?”

“For saying yes and agreeing to marry me. For making me take time to enjoy my family.”

“It's nearly Christmas, Walt. A few days off, a party or two, it won't hurt. You work hard, sweetheart. You need to relax.” You lean into his chest, inhaling the scent of amber and sage.

Clearing her throat, Faye stood with a cookie in her hand, nibbling casually. “Uh, I know that you said I wasn't going to have a sibling, but um...could you not make one right now.”

#henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #nomis #night hunter

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nemo-of-house-hamartia · 3 years

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Good morning Nemo! Silly good for thought today but I saw the cricket brain tag and it tickled me. I kinda feel like that’s how I am in the morning when I’m first trying to come back to reality. Kinda get the feeling Jacob is the same way because let’s be real - He is at it all day. Between fight club, parkouring through London, & just generally being the chaotic cutie he is, he’s going to sleep HEAVY. So when he does finally come to, he’s probably going to be so out of it that he’s mumbling incoherently or just spacing out. And I find the imagery of Jacob with bedhead, holding a cup of tea and just staring blankly out the window as if he’s high as a kite to be hilariously charming. Enjoy!

- Faye

Good morning, Faye!

this was not silly at all! on the contrary, I absolutely adore this headcanon, because I can relate to that so much on a personal level. SO SO MUCH. I mean, him literally passing out and sleeping like the dead it's the only way I see Jacob sleeping, tbh. I know that, as an Assassin, he would probably be best for him to be a light sleeper, but in all honesty, that's how I see Evie being, rather than Jacob. And I agree: him having such a hard time coming back into the land of the living, with a serious case of mussed-up hair is such a cute picture! I can envision him so perfectly! *gods, be still my heart*

also, allow me to add, but I love myself a slightly grumpy, barely awake Jacob who would relish in a shower of kisses, secretly loving receiving them and just pretending to be a little grouchy so that he could receive some more kisses.

(also, allow me to bring back this Artwork I did more than a year ago, because that's how I envision Jacob sleeping. Blame it on his Isu Genes, blame it on me not caring about Canon, but Jacob Frye sleeps naked, regardless of the season. He is a literal heater, his temperature runs slightly higher than a person without Isu genes, THEREFORE, HE DOESN'T NEED CLOTHES). XD

thank you so much for this sweet HC, Faye. It truly cheered me up!

-Nemo

#jacob frye #Assassin's Creed #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #my asks

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hollandorks · 2 years

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hi bestie i was seeing HAIM in concert!! my friends and i somehow were in the front row (it was all general admission) and it was fucking amazing! 🥰 lots of waiting around before the opener (which was faye webster and i saw that someone suggested one of her songs to u which is so cool!) and in between so motn got me through the waiting thank u!! 😅

i’m literally obsessed with all the song recs people are sending in to u bc i’m going and listening to them ALLLL i can’t get enough of motn ahaha

SHELBY WAS THIS THE CHAPTER THAT AFTERGLOW REMINDED U OF?? BECAUSE SHIT

i absolutely adore the way you describe bruce sometimes having very batman-specific mannerisms and also just the way he acts around her. “Bruce went very still but didn’t turn around to look at her.” he’s so calculated and in complete control when he’s around other people (especially when he’s fighting and stuff ofc) but he does not know how to act around her!! i love it.

i also really love that she immediately promised that she would never tell anyone his secret even after she left; it shows how much she loves him (and if he weren’t a silly little dumbass he would see how much she loves him 😭)

“ “You can–” Bruce started. Paused for a long moment. “You can work here as long as you’d like.” “ in moments like this one and others when he takes his time to think about what to say to her i always wonder if a part of him is about to confess his feelings to her. i wonder how many times he has considered just confessing because like… he must’ve at least considered it a few times!!

“She deflated a bit. Ask me to stay, she thought to his back. Ask me to stay with you.” JDKSHSKS… shit like that gets me. i love afterglow by taylor swift (u know this 😂) and this is that same vibe! it makes me feral. i love the way she keeps on remembering what he said, “You keep getting in the way” it just soooo wonderfully shows her anxieties of their relationship and how much everything he says holds so much value to her. now i need him to tell her she’s perfect and that he wants her and to just ask her to stay 😅

i love y/n telling on bruce to alfred HAHAH

i also really love the descriptions of the nightmares! “As soon as her eyes closed and the darkness settled in, that fear came and ripped her to shreds.” This line is *chef’s kiss*

i love how we can see the progression and then subsequent regression of their relationship. she had started sleeping on his floor again, even after he had previously told her to just sleep on the bed. he reminded her again to just use the bed and she felt bad about the fact that she was in there in the first place. it reminds me a bit of the song 1 step forward, 3 steps back by olivia rodrigo 🥺

“All he did was stare at her for a long moment, and then roll on his side to face away from her.” i imagine bruce is thinking about what to say and eventually decides on saying nothing because he’s scared to admit his feelings, he doesn’t want to upset her more, and i think he realizes that he kinda fucked up back when he said what he said to her. (again, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls is sooo their song and idk why but this scene reminds me of it so much)

I LOVEEEE their interaction down in the batcave omg like the banter and the “spar?” moment and i love the description that he seemed more comfortable at home. he’s obviously teasing her more and more openly allowing himself to actually smile and make jokes!!

“One of his hands had caught her so she didn’t knock her head on the floor on the way down.” tell me why this line had me in shambles lmaoo i just love the detail because it’s so in character for bruce; he really is so aware of things like that and considerate!

“Pulled her so her back was against his chest. Captured her other hand and held both wrists in one strong, calloused hand.” 👀 Listen… i am reading respectfully… “His breathing hitched. Her head tilted back, just a little, as she felt him breathe against her neck. His grip on her wrists loosened. He inhaled shakily and she suddenly wanted. Wanted him. All of him. Every secret, every shadow, every smile and laugh and kiss. She wanted him to pull her closer and kiss her until she saw stars. Until she couldn’t breathe.” i love how this is written! it’s so perfect. the way that it’s suddenly interrupted by the intrusive thought that’s the memory of him saying “You keep getting in the way” is just so good. it’s so realistic and heartbreaking and AGH idiots to lovers!!

“Something was aching in her chest. She rubbed at it absently.” she’s just like bruce fr!

“it was the middle of the night, and Bruce was watching y/n sleeping in his bed” MOTN mention!!! ik i mention it everytime i catch it but it’s like a fun little game for me 🥰

the misunderstanding of bruce not being able to convey his feelings verbally 😵‍💫🥺 i love the description of him being unable to think when he’s around her though! he just loves her so much that he totally short circuits 🥺

this bruce pov is totally heartbreaking but so beautifully written aghh! i love his conversation with alfred and bruce’s internal struggle because he knows he fucked up and he’s beating himself up over it! i so hope that he apologizes and confesses or something at the gala omg i can’t wait to see what happens!!

both bruce and y/n having the same thought about loving one another and having to let them go omg 🥲😭

ok lol i have another taylor swift song for you! Cornelia Street – it’s about anxieties over a relationship and leaving because you’re anxious about it and scared of what’s going to happen. it’s definitely not 100% bruce and y/n but i think the general vibe fits because of the way she’s planning on leaving! and the line “I get mystified by how this city screams your name” is just fitting :)

but i would say as a song for this chapter, Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) by the 1975! the musical style is definitely not everyone’s cup of tea but the lyrics are so!! “I think I fucked it royally” “So I’ll just lie awake” literally bruce in this chapter.

sorry if this ask was a mess; i’m sending it in at literally 2am because i’m hyped up after the concert but my brain is exhausted and not functioning properly! 😅 cannot wait for chapter 27! (and the gala finally omg ☺️) enjoy your sunday!! (i think you’d said it’s your husband’s birthday and you’re doing dinner so if so, happy birthday to him and enjoy your dinner!)

🖤

Hi bestie!! How amazing that you got to be front row!! And also how cool that the opener was one of my many song recs 😂 I miss going to concerts tbh, I should go to one soon

I am 100% going to put together a Spotify playlist of song recs! I'll share it once I actually get around to doing it 😅

AND YES THIS IS THE AFTERGLOW CHAPTER!!

Thank you re: the mannerisms 🥺 I try to include those because I am absolutely fascinated by them 😂 Like especially in the movie in the funeral scene. Bruce is 100% Batman during that whole part that I needed to include the overlap in the fic! Also yes every time he's near the reader he just short circuits, poor awkward guy. His brain reverts to fight or flight or freeze (aka Batman mode)

"If he weren't a silly little dumbass" yep exactly 😂

I think he's constantly on the verge of confessing to her but, again, his poor brain short circuits.

But yes afterglow is really the vibe for this chapter!! The second I listened to it the first time this whole chapter came to mind. I was so excited. Love when a song just fits

We love a snitch-y reader! I really want to keep this up in the sequel 😂

1 step forward 3 steps back in a good way to put it! (Looking up the song now too tbh, I am a fan of what I've heard of Olivia Rodrigo). And yes Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls fits so well!

Could not help myself with Bruce teasing and joking more! I feel like we get hints of this in the movie (like for some reason his delivery of the "thumb. drive" line just fucking sends me every time) and I needed to show him being funny!

Also it's canon that he does this--when I first saw the funeral scene I immediately noticed how he protects the kid's head when tackling him out of the way! Had to include that too. (Can you tell I've seen the movie like six times 😅)

"I am reading respectfully" 😂👀 We love a sexy sparring scene. Really tempted to include one in the sequel but give them actual smut. We'll see! 👀 also thank you, I really liked that passage 🥺 Intrusive thoughts can ruin everything!

Love everyone noticing the parallels of them rubbing their chests!! 🥺🥰 It literally makes me so happy when people notice those things I just toss in there! Also love when people notice the title 😉 even though I put it in there in like a million places 😂 glad you don't get tired of seeing it!

When I first reread this Bruce POV I was like damn Shelby give the man a break already. It was way sadder than I'd remembered 😂😅

That lyric though!! It really is fitting! I agree though, this song really gives the anxious vibe of not being certain about a relationship/ what will happen!

Okay the 1975 song!! The lyrics!! This really reminds me of this chapter in particular. Poor Bruce. He did fuck it royally 😂 (also the whole "run away from me" like...that is BRUCE!)

Hope you got some rest after the concert!! Remember to hydrate again today!! (This is from someone who almost died after a concert. Not really but I was so dehydrated the next day I got sick lol)

Working on ch 27 now to post in a few hours 😉

And thank you!! He says thank you too even though I know he's absolutely miffed about this whole tumblr thing 😂

Thanks as always bestie 🥰

#asks #anon #motn spoilers #song recs #bestie 🖤#🖤 anon #🖤#like I said on another ask y'all are really out here trying to convert me into a taylor swift stan #it's working a little

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angelic-kisses13 · 4 years

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Family Outing

Authors Note: Here is the request for @ly--canthrope, I hope you like it lovely. If not I will write you a new one!

Warnings: None, pure family fluff!

You watched as Faye and Walter bickered about what they should bring on the trip, Faye wanted to bring an outdoor shower and Walter didn’t want to assemble it.

“Not in a million years, kid.” He said with a shake of his head, arms crossed in his signature pose. Faye snorted at him, an eyebrow raised as she stood in the same manner. You grinned from the kitchen, a laugh threatening to come out.

Walter’s eyes met yours and they narrowed at your amusement, not enjoying the situation playing out in front of him.

“Faye, they have showers there.” Faye’s face looked horrified at the notion.

“Do you know how many people use those? I could end up with warts on my feet!”

“That why you wear shoes.”

“What, so I can squelch every time I walk? No thanks. It’s coming or we aren’t going.” By this point you couldn’t contain your laughter, your stomach hurt as you doubled over, cheeks hot from the exertion.

“Walt, babe, I don’t think you are winning this one.” You wheezed as you fell onto the couch. He grunted as he walked over to you and pushed you over so he could sit.

“If you’re bringing it you have to pack it.” Faye grinned in victory as she walked out of the door, dragging the shower behind her.

“That girl is spoiled.” You hummed as you moved to straddle the detective.

“You sure you won’t come along?” Your fingers brushed under his eye, before tangling in his beard gently.

“I’m sure. It’s your and Faye’s weekend, spend some time with her, she misses you.”

“You don’t miss me?” He questioned as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs brushing the skin under your shirt.

“I always miss you, but I’m not sure she would want me there and I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to take you from her.” He sighed as his head bowed and rested against your chest.

“You two are disgusting.” You jumped at the sound of Faye’s voice and Walter groaned. You pulled away from Walt and got up, turning to smile at the teenage girl.

“You keep an eye on him for me, yeah?” She frowned at you eyes furrowed.

“You aren’t coming with us?” The question was genuine confusion. Now it was your turn to frown.

“No, it’s your guy’s weekend. I will be fine here, I have wine and pasta and a good book.” Faye’s face took on a look of pure sarcasm.

“Yeah, because that sounds like the best weekend ever. You and dad are hardly ever separated, how will you two cope?”

“Faye,” Walter warned, his eyes narrowed. Faye threw her arms into the air,

“Its an observation and the truth!” Your lips twitched and you quickly placed a hand over your mouth before Walter could notice your amusement. Faye turned back to you,

“Go pack a bag! You are coming with, otherwise, dad will mope around.”

“I do not mope.”

“Yes, you do.” You and Faye said together. Walter looked on incredulously,

“You take her side now?”

“I take whoever’s side has the biggest tent.” You replied as you quickly ran past him, his hand shot out and smacked your ass as you passed. A light yelp escaped your mouth and you turned and glared at your boyfriend. He gave a cheeky smile and winked before bending down and gathering the rest of the supplies to load into the truck.

Huffing you walked upstairs and quickly packed a go-bag and changed your clothes, something told you this trip was going to be a little unconventional.

You walked down the stairs in time to see Walter and Faye having a silent conversation. Pausing you watched, trying to figure out if you were intruding. Faye glanced up at you and quickly smiled before walking out the front door.

“Everything okay?” Walter had an excited glint in his eye before you could ask him about it he took your bag for you and grabbed your hand in his.

“Yeah, nothing to worry about, sweetheart. C’mon, let’s go.”

“Okay?” You muttered as you locked the front door behind you and Walter helped you into the truck.

It had been a few hours since the three of you had left and by that time the family bonding songs had been taken over by bickering and then finally, silence. Walter had one hand on the steering wheel, the other was placed atop yours. Your feet were curled up on the seat next to you and Faye was in the back, her headphones in and her schoolwork out as she tried to write something down before Walter could hit another pothole.

You had just turned your head to check on Faye when you noticed a wicked grin take over her face. Your stomach dropped at the look, she only looked like that when she was tormenting her father.

“Hey, dad?” Her voice was too innocent and you unconsciously tightened your fingers around Walter’s hand. He looked over at you with a head tilt but you hadn’t noticed, too focused on watching Faye.

“Yeah?”

“What’s another word for ‘cum’?” Walter nearly drove off the road at the question. You shrieked as the car swerved and you immediately reached your hand out to protect Faye. The truck was pulled over to the side of the road and Walter turned in his seat, his eyes wide and face pale.

“Everyone okay?” You breathed in deeply as your hands fell down to your sides. Faye was cackling in the backseat, her school books had been thrown to the floor, and her hair was a mess across her face.

“Let’s do it again!” She crooned as Walter sighed from beside you, his hands coming up and clenching the wheel, his head bowing forward to rest.

“Are you okay, babe?” You asked as you brushed a hand down his back.

“Just give me a second.” He muttered as he took a deep breath. You turned an looked over at Faye who was watching with a barely concealed grin.

“Was that necessary?” You chided. Faye shrugged her shoulders,

“It was funny and you know it.”

“We are going to have a very long talk when we get back home,” Walter uttered as he straightened up and pulled the car back onto the road. You shot Faye a warning look before turning back to face the front. There was an annoyed sigh from behind, but soon the scratch of the pencil began again and you relaxed.

Your hand reached over and landed on Walter’s thigh. He tilted his head towards you, letting you know he appreciated the gesture. A soft smile touched your lips and the three of you sat in silence as the truck rumbled down the road.

It wasn’t long before Walter pulled off onto a dirt road, trees converging in a beautiful green canopy overhead. Patches of sunlight glinting through the leaves as you traveled further down the road. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires alerted you to the camp area.

Excitement tingled through your body it had been years since you had been out in nature like this, and the fact that you were with your boyfriend and his daughter made it all the better. Hopefully, you and Faye could get closer while on this trip.

“Alright, ladies, out we go,” Walter said as he turned the ignition off and unbuckled. Turning his body to better face us, his one knee resting on the seat, the other leg on the floor. His arm was across the back of the seat and his eyes shined with glee and relaxation. You hadn’t seen him like this before, it was definitely a new favorite.

“I will get the tents up, Y/N you can set up the kitchen and food area, and Faye you get firewood and your disaster of a shower.” Faye rolled her eyes, but she was quickly unbuckled and out of the car before you could open your mouth to agree. A delighted laugh escaped your lips as you rubbed your palms together.

“I’m so excited, Walt! The fresh air, s’mores, and swimming and being able to cuddle up next to you in a sleeping bag is going to be amazing!” You hadn’t realized that you were rambling, your body almost humming in your seat as you unbuckled and bounced out of the car. You completely missed the fond exasperated look, Water had shot you. His lips pulled up into a silly smile, he rounded the truck to help you untangle the bags from the campfire stove.

“Don’t pull on that one, lovely,” Walter said.

“You aren’t allowed to pack the truck anymore.” You complained as you tugged at a duffel bag, trying to pull it free from the others.

“What’s wrong with it? I think it’s packed exceptionally well.”

“It looks like a game of Tetris gone wrong, Walter.” You teased as you finally managed to get the duffel bag free, which lead to the rest of the bags and cookware to come falling out after it. You shrieked as pots and pans clanked onto the ground, the sound of Walter’s laugh brought you out of your momentary fear.

“Ugh, you did that on purpose.” You sniffed as you threw your hair back over your shoulder and sauntered away.

“I told you not to pull on it.” He argued. You kindly ignored him as you went about putting the duffel and stove onto the picnic bench.

“Where did the cooler go?” You asked as Walter came over, the aforementioned cooler in his hands.

“Never mind, all the food is in there right? I don’t want to have to make a fishing trip in the middle of the night.” You teased as Walter put the cooler down next to your hip. He grunted as he surveyed the area around you two, you looked at him bemused.

“Babe, its a campground, nothing bad is going to happen to us out here. No need to be scary face, Walter.” He shot you an unimpressed look and you held your hands up in surrender.

“Just thought it would do you some good, you don’t want wrinkles ruining that pretty face of yours.”

“We need to break up.” He deadpanned as he stalked over to you, a playful glint in his blue eyes. A laugh bubbled past your lips and you quickly shook your head.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, Detective.” His arms came around your waist pulling your chest flush to his. Your hands went around his neck, your fingers tangling in his curls.

“Hmm, probably right.” His lips came down on yours, centimetres from actually locking when there was a loud groan from behind you. You jumped, your fingers tightening in Walter’s hair, yanking by accident. He growled at the action, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Oh God! Sorry, Walt.” You mumbled as you released his curls and smoothed them down, massaging the area to lessen the pain.

“Why can’t you two be normal adults who can’t stand to be around one another?”

“It’s healthy to show affection, Faye.”

“It’s not healthy for me.” She countered as she dropped the firewood by the fire pit and went to get her shower set up.

“A ray of sunshine,” Walter uttered as he released you and went over to the tent.

“Hey, Walt?” He looked over to you, an eyebrow arched and lips pursed.

“You’re my ray of sunshine.” You ended the line with a wink and tongue sticking out. He snorted and flipped you off as he went back to the tent.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice.” You muttered to yourself as you went about unpacking the food. Hamburgers and hot dogs were brought out if the cooler along with the beer and soda cans. You left the buns and condiments in the cooler, you didn’t want o to attract too many critters right away or it would be a very long weekend.

You prepared the burgers and hot dogs, adding the seasonings as you listened to Walter curse the “retched tent” over and over again. Faye had finished the shower and was sitting across from you, a soda in her hand as she watched her father struggle.

“Maybe you should offer to help him?”

“That is “man’s work” and I’m not about to go through that discussion again.” Faye shuddered. An exasperated expression reached your features but you kept your mouth shut and went back to doing your own thing.

It took Walter a few hours but he finally managed to get the tent up, albeit a little crooked but it still stood and would work until morning. Faye sent you an amused look as the three of you settled down in your chairs, blankets resting over your legs.

The fire was crackling and popping as it danced amongst the driftwood, the different colors from the salt whispering through the air like willow-wisps. A content smile touched your lips as you took in your little makeshift family. You and Faye were getting closer the longer you were with Walter. You never wanted her to think that you were trying to replace her mother. You saw Faye as your daughter whether she wanted you there or not.

You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of Walter’s snores. You jumped when one of them sounded like a chainsaw. Faye’s lips curled up into a snarl at the sound.

“I have some ear plugs if you need them, he tends to be louder out here. I don’t know if he is trying to out snore himself or if he is trying to scare away any wandering bears.” Her eyes were focused on the fire and her fingers were playing with her dark hair.

Something was bothering her but it wasn’t your place to try and get her to talk. She would come to you if she really needed your opinion.

“Want a piece of chocolate? I managed to snag a few bars before your father could get a hold of them.” You teased as you waved the chocolate bar in front of you. Her eyes widened and she was up and out of her seat and in front of you in seconds.

“Please tell me you have marshmallows and graham crackers too.” Her eyes were dark and pleading. You chuckled softly and nodded your head. She grabbed a bar and plopped down in front of you, her back leaning against your legs. It was quiet as the two of you watched her roast the marshmallows. She swore softly when one of them caught on fire.

You snorted when it melted off of the stick and into the flames.

“That was a waste of gooey goodness, you had one job, Faye.” You brought her head around and stuck her tongue out at you before turning back and focusing on the remaining marshmallow. Without conscious thought, your hands reached out and started running through her hair, braiding it back from her face.

You hummed softly as you worked before Faye turned and faced you, her hands on your knees.

“I have to tell you something but I don’t know how to do it.” Your humming stopped as you cocked your head and waited quietly.

Taking a deep breath, “Maybe you should just come right out and say it? You know I’m not one to judge. What is said between us is kept between us, not even your father will know.” You said quietly as you watched her, her eyes bouncing from object to object, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry for not being more welcoming when you and dad were starting out. I was upset at him and I took it out on you.” You blinked in surprise, not expecting the girl to tell you that.

“I’m not here to replace or take over. I do love your father, very much.” Your words were hushed, almost like you were telling a secret.

“I know that… now.” You closed your eyes at her words. “I had a really long talk with my mom before the trip about you guys. It’s hard for us to even have a conversation about dad, then you throw in the fact that he is seeing someone and it makes it super uncomfortable for her.”

You winced at her words, your shoulders slumping down.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad!” She rushed out, eyes wide and her hands shaking back and forth. A watery laugh left your lips,

“It’s okay.”

“I told dad about the conversation when you walked into the room earlier.” You felt dread fill your stomach, was this the last time that you were going to see them? Was Walter going to break-up with you after this weekend? You swallowed weakly at the thought.

“This is going horribly,” Faye uttered as she sagged to the ground in front of you. You both sat in silence as you both thought over the discussion. Then there was a whispered,

“Mom?” Your head snapped down towards Faye, panic filling you.

“Did your phone die? Do you need to call your mom to come and get you?” God, you knew you shouldn’t have come out this weekend. Faye’s eyes followed you in confusion.

“What? No, I’m calling you Mom now. Why would you think I needed to call my Mom for?” Your heart jumped to your throat at her words.

“You...I’m… Mom?” You asked, your voice cracking on the words. Faye mistook your confusion for anger and she quickly backpedaled.

“No, no it’s okay, I take it back. I don’t want to make you cry!” You laughed as you reached out and grabbed the girl by her arms and pulled her against you. Hugging her tightly to your body, tears running down your cheeks in relief and happiness.

“You can call me Mom, I will never ever want you to not call me that. You are my daughter, even though I’m not the one to give birth to you, you are still my girl.” You breathed as you ran your fingers through her hair.

Faye relaxed against you, her hands coming up and clutching at your shirt. Your head turned as you pressed kisses to Faye’s cheeks and you met Walter’s warm blue gaze, a proud smile resting on his lips. He gave you a quick wink before he moved over and engulfed you both in his arms, kissing the tops of your heads lovingly.

Taglist: @agniavateira @cavillanche @cavillunraveled @dancingwendigo @dreamwritesimagines @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @hlkwrites @hnryycvll @honeychicanawrites @iloveyouyen @johnmotherfuckingshelby @ladyreapermc @laketaj24 @littlefreya @ly--canthrope @mary-ann84 @mrsaugustwalker @ohvalleyofplentyyy @omgkatinka @sciapod @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @supersweetstache @thethirstyarchive @the-winter-witcher @tumblnewby @viking-raider @white-wolf-of-rivia @witcherwritings

#walter marshall #henry cavill #fluff #family outing

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harryforvogue · 5 years

Note

It seems like Faye isn’t one to be super open w her emotions so what abt her being upset and Harry can tell but he’s not pushing her to say anything and he’s just being rlly sweet

Harry would definitely not be on her tail about it, giving her plenty of space. Specifically in the beginning of their relationship, he doesn’t know her well enough to decide on how he should approach the situation, so he gives her time, and eventually she begins opening up to him. But she’s been by herself for so long, it takes her a while to get it through her head that Harry’s here to listen to her. Even if he can’t help her, venting and getting stuff off her chest feels immensely better than keeping it all in.

Let’s say she’s upset at an audition or something. She thinks she’s absolutely bombed it and she goes to dinner with Harry the following night. She’s being quiet, picking at her food sadly, just nodding along to Harry telling her about his day. Normally she loves hearing about a new tattoo he’s done, but this time she just gives him soft murmurs of: “mhm. yeah. that’s cool”. He eventually puts his fork down, wipes his mouth with his napkin and says,

“What’s wrong?”

She glances up at him, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

“You didn’t even answer my texts yesterday. What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” she replies stubbornly, but from the way she puts her own spoon down proves to him that something is most definitely wrong. She’s barely touched anything on her plate.

He doesn’t really want to push it. “Cherry, you can tell me anything, you know that.” With a nervous chuckle, he reaches across and grabs her hand. “You do know that right?”

“Yeah,” she replies, distracted.

“Well, I’m here now. Talk to me.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she looks at him directly, her pretty eyes darker and more troubled than usual. As he watches her trying to form words in her head, he notices the little indications of her mood that he’d ignored before. Her frown lines, her neatly done eyebrows pulled together, her fidgeting fingers as they played with her rings before Harry brought his own hand down on hers. He’s positive that if he glances down at her knees, they’ll be bouncing under the table anxiously.

“I don’t think I want to talk about it,” Faye finally admits, shrugging one shoulder. “And it’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s just that...well, I know you have your own problems, and sometimes they’re way worse that mine are so I feel silly unloading on you.”

“Faye, you never unload on me though.” His words are firm, but his tone is gentle, eyes soft and filled with love. “I can carry your problems along with mine.”

When she goes silent again, it’s more dejected. That’s when Harry realizes he’s flirting with the line she’s taken the time to draw. “Okay, hey,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Listen. You don’t have to tell me, yeah? I know you’re not very comfortable with it yet.”

At the word “comfortable” she scrunches her nose. “I’m very comfortable with you.”

A dimple on each side of his face comes into her view. “I know, and that makes me happy. You’re just not comfortable with sharing everything, and I get that.”

She huffs. “I share stuff with you.”

He can’t help but laugh this time at how stubborn she’s being. “I mean everything.”

She drapes her own hand on top of his and begins to play with his own rings, twisting and pulling them off. Once all the rings lay on the table, she takes hers off and pushes them down onto Harry’s more thicker fingers. They only reach his first knuckle before getting caught, and she slides his bigger ones onto her hand, making sure not to gesture so much so they fly off.

“Yeah,” she finally says quietly. “I think it’s just who I am, you know?” Harry’s already nodding before he can even finish her sentence. “You’re so open with me. And I’m just...not.”

“And that’s not a bad thing at all, Cherry. You’re allowed to keep things to yourself,” he removes one of her rings from his index finger and slides it down on his pink instead, “just as long as you know that regardless of what’s bothering you, I’m here to listen to it. Even though I might not be able to help.”

The smile on her pink lips spreads as she nods, ducking her head down to kiss his hand. He presses his mouth together at the feeling to hide a laugh. “Thank you,” is all she says, letting go of his hand, picking up her spoon again.

As she does so, two of Harry’s big rings on her fingers slide and land straight in her gravy.

“Faye!” he yelps, quickly using his fork to dig the jewelry out. She mutters a swear and removes all his rings, sliding them over to her boyfriend. He drops the wet rings into a napkin. Faye watches him bite down on his lip as he cleans off the rings vigorously. I am so fucking lucky...

#harry and faye #harry styles #harry styles blurb #look at that folks #we kept it as a blurb #Anonymous

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scottymcgeesterwrites · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy VIII Review

(A serious review this time, without spoilers.)

Year: 1999

Original Platform: PlayStation One

Also available on: PC, PlayStation Store

Version I Played: PlayStation One

Synopsis:

Squall Leonhart is a new recruit of SeeD, a mercenary team protecting the world. Rinoa is a resistance fighter against the Republic of Galbadia, led by the Sorceress Edea who is suddenly hellbent on conquering the neighboring nations. Squall and his team attempt to assassinate Edea, but the mission goes awry.

Gameplay:

Final Fantasy VIII throws nearly every previous battle system out of the window. It’s nearly as radical as Final Fantasy II’s battle system. Enemies around the world map average their levels according to your average level among your characters. You only need 1,000 EXP (experience points) to rise to each level, unlike the other games where the EXP needed rises after each level. But that doesn’t mean your character levels up all their stats – that all depends on the summons, known in this game as Guardian Forces.

Unlike other games, summons are crucial to the gameplay, despite not being crucial to the story itself. The Junction System has you “junction” each character with a GF, allowing you to assign different battle commands (Item, Draw, Magic, GF, etc). If you don’t assign a character a GF, all they can do in battle is “Attack.”

That gets super annoying when you’re moving around GFs between characters a lot but you forget to assign that one character a summon right before a major boss battle, so then they can’t do shit.

The drawing system is my favorite aspect of Final Fantasy VIII’s gameplay. Instead of harnessing magic by a points system (such as MP), you draw magic from enemies. Magic is only limited by the number of spells. For example, you fight an enemy and draw 5 Curas from them. You now have 5 Cura spells. You can hold up to 99 of any spell. You don’t have to worry about ethers or running out of MP. I guess it’s an incentive to battle enemies, as they are resources for magic.

But the way the GFs work annoy me the most. You to call upon GFs at any time in any battle for an infinite number of times. This doesn’t give you any incentive to even try battling. If something annoyed me, I just said, “Fuck it” and spammed GFs. Not only that, but you have to sit through the short cinematic sequence of your summon every time you call them. I must have viewed Shiva’s summoning sequence ten-thousand fucking times before finishing the game. This makes battling feel repetitive, tedious, and unenjoyable. Battling was a chore.

The Junction System overall is so complicated that you have to go through a tutorial within the first twenty minutes of the game. It’s aggravating enough already to sit through Quistis going, “Blah, blah. blah” but it’s actually super important because if you don’t pay attention then this game will be tedious.

The final battle though? That shit was epic. Hard. But epic. One of the best final battles.

Graphics:

This game took a different route in giving realistic proportions to its characters. While that’s a cool idea on paper, the overall effect is. . .boring? Almost every other Final Fantasy game has a cast of very distinct characters, like various species, age groups, or wildly different clothing. To suddenly play a Final Fantasy game with what looks like real people – like Bob, Joe and Jill – seems drab. Selphie by far has been the least interesting character to me. When your characters look and feel like NPCs, it’s hard to become invested in them.

I wasn’t a fan of many of the backdrops because for whatever reason I had trouble discerning some doors. I couldn’t tell what I was looking at in the background sometimes, like if there was a switch or button that I had to press.

The cinematics are great though – some of the best in the series. It has the most memorable opening sequence of any game – the duel between Squall and his rival Seifer. The cinematics were a MAJOR step up from Final Fantasy VII.

Story:

Oh hey, so here’s a serious, non-spoiler, non-inflammatory review of Final Fantasy VIII.

Put this story side-by-side with Final Fantasy VII and you can see how they carried on the inspirations. Once again, the story is set in a more modern setting with cars, trains, etc. Squall is Cloud. Rinoa is Aerith. Etc., etc.

Squall Leonhart is the epitome of angst. You will spend the entire game rolling your eyes at Squall’s angsty introspective thoughts about the situations he’s in and people around him. Squall is essentially a bad version of Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy VII. Take Cloud but only take his cool design and angsty responses. That’s Squall Leonhart. Squall literally has no interesting qualities about him other than his physical design. He can rock that jacket and that scar on his face. Squall’s “romance” with Rinoa Heartilly is also a cardboard copy of Cloud and Aerith’s romance. Squall meets Rinoa by a chance meeting at a military ball. She serves as the optimistic, lively counterweight to Squall’s stoicism. But there’s hardly any depth other than Squall finding her pretty and Rinoa thinking he’s cute and handsome.

The cast of characters is bland, to say the least. They are composed of other students (Quistis being an instructor though) at Balamb Garden (except Irvine, who is a student of another Garden). They look boring. Their introductions are boring. Balamb Garden sounds like a cool idea – a mercenary school – except it plays off more like a poorly written high school anime drama, which is lame. At one point, Squall’s friends – Zell, Selphie, Irvine and Quistis – all try to conspire to get him to talk to Rinoa. You actually have to play through that of the plot and watch it unfold. But Squall tries to understand Rinoa’s upbeat attitude with lots of question marks in his thought bubbles and mumbling, “Whatever”. It’s jarring to sit through four discs of this over and over.

The plot is a butchered mess. After Disc 1 is when the plot gets strange like a fever dream. Plot twists happen left and right after Disc 1 without any rhyme or reason. Very little is explained and many twists are too convenient. Seifer is introduced as Squall’s rival and Rinoa’s original love interest, but then he inexplicably turns evil. In no dialogue or plot points do we ever learn why Seifer switches sides. None at all.

There’s a particular interesting fan theory that actually makes infinitely more sense than the story that Square gave us. Here’s a hot tip – when fan theories start making perfect sense, you probably didn’t write a good story.

The best part of Final Fantasy VIII is actually Laguna Loire. Throughout the story, Squall and his friends pass out for mysterious reasons and you are introduced to Laguna Loire and his two buddies, Ward and Kiros (who are reminiscent of Biggs and Wedge from Final Fantasy VII). They partake in events set in the past. Laguna Loire hearkens back to the pre-Final Fantasy VII heroes – heroes like Bartz and Locke. He’s funny and charming. I wish the game was about him and his friends instead of angsty Squall and his cardboard friends.

So, for four discs you play through these parallel plots and then they merge by the end. The payoff isn’t so amazing. I expected something better. Time travel is involved, albeit in a way that doesn’t make sense. Time compression! The ability to compress time into a singularity because . . . because why again? I guess you don’t have to wait for the next season of Game of Thrones anymore. Is that what that means?

Other notes I want to mention – Balamb Garden is an awful, clunky airship and the world map is the least interesting world map in the entire series. The only remotely interesting place is Fisherman’s Horizon.

Final Fantasy VIII’s story is the second most radical departure from the series, the first being Final Fantasy X, which I will get to later. However, Final Fantasy VII lacks any meaningful depth or existential crisis for its main character to explore. There’s no grand critique on the meaning or life or anything like that. There’s one slight existential question that Rinoa faces near the end but it’s practically nothing. I admire what they tried to do but it fell flat on its face. It’s dull and insipid with its characters and the plot doesn’t steer in a clear direction.

Overall, I admire what they were trying to do by adding time travel to the story. But it became such a warbled mess that it failed to deliver. They took all the cool parts of Final Fantasy VII but didn’t bother to give them depth.

Music:

The music is the biggest highlight of Final Fantasy VIII. Laguna Loire’s battle theme is sexy as hell. It made me so sad to return to Squall’s timeline, because I wouldn’t get to hear that music again for a while. The world map theme irritated me. It has a jingle that didn’t jive well with wandering around. It probably also didn’t help that the world map is dull to run around in.

The game’s theme, Liberi Fatali, is damn epic. Liberi Fatali does have actual lyrics but the famous lines “Fithos lusec wecos vinosec” is actually nonsense. Maybe that nonsense reflects the nonsense that is the actual story. It would have been nice if they had actually incorporated those words into the story somehow, like some magic spell like “abracadabra”.

The love theme is Eyes on Me, performed by Faye Wong. It’s the first time that Uematsu composed a pop song for a Final Fantasy game. Its lyrics are nice and of course fitting for the love story. I like hearing it.

There are no other character themes in this score. The focus was all on Squall and Rinoa having their silly angsty romance.

The final boss theme is actually one of my favorites. It starts out eerie with the chorus singing “Fithos lusec wecos vinosec” but in this drawn out, ghost-like manner. Then the music picks up sounding like a typical Final Fantasy battle theme, then goes crazy from there on out.

Notable Score:

Liberi Fatali.

youtube

Verdict:

My least favorite Final Fantasy game. I would place it right at the bottom tier. The story is absolute gibberish. The gameplay could be fun once you wrap your head around it, which I didn’t and so it was a pain in the ass for me. Finding all the Guardian Forces can be fun. Laguna Loire is the best part of the story, and that’s really it. At the end of the day, probably put this one off until you play the better, more important Final Fantasy games. You are not missing anything if you never play this game.

Direct Sequel?

No.

Keep it that way.

#final fantasy #final fantasy viii #final fantasy 8 #squall leonhart #squall x rinoa #rinoa heartilly #video games #onvideogames #fantasy rpg #sci-fi rpg #science fiction #balamb garden #quistis trepe

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papermoonloveslucy · 4 years

Text

LIZ’S SUPERSTITIONS

October 21, 1949

"Liz’s Superstitions” (aka “Superstition”) is episode #59 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on October 21, 1949. This episode is sponsored by Jell-O.

This was the seventh episode of the second season of MY FAVORITE HUSBAND. There were 43 new episodes, with the season ending on June 25, 1950.

Synopsis ~ A chirping cricket in the Cooper’s hearth is driving George crazy, but Liz is convinced it means good luck. When Liz insists that it isn't lucky to banish a cricket, George gets upset with her superstitions.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George's boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father's garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz, a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

Bea Benadaret and Gale Gordon (Iris and Rudolph Atterbury) do not appear in this episode.

GUEST CAST

Frank Nelson (Mr. Acme, from the Acme Exterminating Company) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”. Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs. His trademark was playing clerks and other working stiffs, suddenly turning to Benny with a drawn out “Yeeeeeeeeees?” Nelson appeared in 11 episodes of “I Love Lucy”, including three as quiz master Freddy Fillmore, and two as Ralph Ramsey, plus appearance on “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” - making him the only actor to play two different recurring roles on “I Love Lucy.” Nelson returned to the role of the frazzled Train Conductor for an episode of “The Lucy Show” in 1963. This marks his final appearance on a Lucille Ball sitcom.

Anne Whitfield (Joanne Wood) is best remembered for her signature role as the younger daughter of Phil Harris and Alice Faye on their hit radio show. Although she never appeared on screen with Lucille Ball, she did a 1962 episode of Desilu’s “The Untouchables.” She is best known for playing Susan in the 1954 film White Christmas. She was 11 years old in 1949 when this episode of “My Favorite Husband” was broadcast. As of this writing she is 82 years old and living in Washington state.

Joanne is one of the many children of the Cooper’s neighbor Mr. Benjamin Wood, usually played by Hans Conried.

THE EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers tonight we see a romantic little family scene. Liz and George are having dinner by candlelight.”

Liz loves dining by candlelight, but George isn’t so enthusiastic, facetiously mistaking Liz for the pot roast. Liz begins to cry, upset that George doesn’t appreciate her romantic gesture. Liz blames the dinner’s failure on her walking under a ladder that morning. George indicts Liz’s superstitions as...

GEORGE: “Silly, sentimental, feminine nonsense!”

He makes Liz promise to stop believing in superstitions. The kiss and make-up, although Liz still can’t help knocking wood. Liz can’t explain the superstition of knocking on wood.

LIZ: “I know. If you knock on wood, and the termite knocks back, you know the wood’s no good!”

The roots of the superstition of knocking on wood may may be in Celtic or German folklore, in which supernatural beings are thought to live in trees, and can be invoked for protection. In these instances, people might knock on or touch wood to request good luck, or to distract spirits with evil intentions. The knocking was also supposed to prevent evil spirits from hearing your speech and as such stop them from interfering. Alternatively, some traditions have it that by knocking upon wood, you would awaken and release the benevolent wood fairies that dwelt there. In 1954, Lucy’s friend Danny Kaye released a film titled Knock on Wood. In this case, the ‘wood' of the titled refers to a ventriloquists dummy.

Liz explains that other superstitions can be considered helpful precautions.

LIZ: “If you walk under a ladder it might fall on you. If a black cat walks in front of you, you might trip over it.”

Black Cats have long been associated with witches and witchcraft. They were commonly known as ‘familiars’ for those practicing the dark arts. They are also considered bad luck. The superstition was reinforced by the 1934 Universal horror film The Black Cat, based on the Edgar Allan Poe story.

The superstition that it's bad luck to walk under a ladder originated in ancient Egypt. An open stepladder or a ladder leaning against a wall forms a triangle and Egyptians regarded this shape as sacred (witness their pyramids).

George emphatically pounds the table when insisting that Liz give up her superstitions, and spills the salt. Naturally, Liz insists that he throw some over his shoulder to break the curse. He angrily rises from the table just as Katie is serving the coffee, and she spills it all over!

When Lucy Ricardo is photo-bombing Fernando Lamas in “Lucy Goes to Sun Valley” (1958), he is banging the back of the pepper shaker. He then throws some over his right shoulder into Lucy’s face causing her to sneeze and ruin Ethel’s snapshot. Perhaps they do it differently in Lamas’ native Argentina, but the old superstition goes that when SALT is spilled throw a dash over your LEFT shoulder to blind the devil who lurks there. Here Lamas tosses PEPPER over his RIGHT shoulder! The spilled coffee, however, is a similar result!

Katie says she doesn’t believe in salt throwing but she does knock wood.

KATIE: “I’m a wood-knocker, but I’m not a salt-thrower.” GEORGE: “I’m trying to decide whether to be a maid-knocker or a wife-thrower!”

Next morning, Liz tells Katie that last night George broke a mirror and stomped on it just to prove it wasn’t bad luck! He’s now bandaging his foot.

Broken Mirrors are considered a sign of bad luck and if you break a mirror you are in for seven years of misfortunes. An ancient myth was that mirrors have magical powers, including the power to foresee the future and are thought to be devices of the Gods. Breaking a mirror would terminate its powers, the soul would be astray form the body, and misfortunes would be brought upon the one whose reflection it last held. It was the Romans who added the seven years bad luck. This derived from the belief that it took seven years for life to renew itself.

The doorbell rings. It is little Joanne Wood (Anne Whitfield) from next door.

LIZ: “How are you?” JOANNE: “Fine, thanks.” LIZ: “How’s your father?” JOANNE: “Fine, thanks.” LIZ: “And your four sisters?” JOANNE: “Fine, thanks.” LIZ: “And your six brothers?” JOANNE: “Fine, thanks.” LIZ: “And your mother?” JOANNE: “Exhausted, thanks.”

Joanne has come over to return the umbrella her father borrowed. George insists it is not his umbrella and wants to open it to see the monogram. Liz warns him that it is bad luck to open an umbrella in the house.

Legend has it that ancient Egyptians believed that opening an umbrella indoors - away from the sun - was a disrespectful act that would anger the sun god, who would then take out his wrath on everyone in the house in which the umbrella had been opened. The reason we avoid opening umbrellas indoors today, however, is that they include a metal frame triggered by a spring mechanism that allows them to open quickly—and dangerously.

George insists on defying the superstition and a hammer pops out of the umbrella and lands on his foot!

JOANNE: “Daddy wondered where that hammer was!”

Turns out little Joanne is also a wood-knocker! Liz reads the paper’s weather report and remarks about the disparity between the minimum and maximum temperatures.

LIZ: “George, why is it that Min never gets as hot as Max?”

George is bothered by the sound of a cricket chirping in the hearth. Liz doesn’t want George to kill the cricket because it is bad luck.

LIZ: “Run little Jiminy!”

For thousands of years, it has been considered lucky to have a cricket on the hearth, especially in Asian countries where crickets were once used as ‘watchdogs’: when danger approached, the cricket's chirping would stop. Superstition dictates that it's bad luck to kill a cricket, even on accident. Liz calls the cricket Jiminy after a character in Pinocchio, which was filmed in 1940 by Walt Disney. In the film, Jiminy Cricket sings "When You Wish Upon a Star", widely considered the Walt Disney Company's signature song.

George gives Liz an ultimatum: He is leaving the house until the cricket is gone.

A commercial by Bob LeMond promotes Jell-O puddings with a quick and easy recipe for a chocolate roll.

ANNOUNCER: “It’s been two hours since George, the mighty hunter, gave up the chase and returned to his cricket blind. Liz is still on the trail.”

Liz and Katie have been searching for the cricket all over the house, even tempting him out of hiding with a tin cricket left over from last Halloween.

A clicker, sometimes called a cricket, is any device that makes a clicking sound, usually when deliberately activated by its user. They were originally used for training animals, but were also marketed as party favors.

Liz develops a mysterious call and response code using her tin clicker, thinking she is flirting with him!

The doorbell rings. It is Mr. Acme (Frank Nelson) from the Acme Exterminating Company. He is dismayed to learn that he’s been called out for a single cricket.

The fictional Acme Corporation features prominently in the Warner Brothers Road Runner / Wile E. Coyote cartoons as a running gag featuring outlandish products and complicated contraptions fail catastrophically. The Road Runner cartoon short “Fast and Furry-ous” was released in September 1949 and introduced the Acme Super Outfit. The word ‘acme’ is derived from Greek meaning the peak, zenith, or prime.

Mr. Acme sprays a DDT bug balm in the room and charges Liz $5.00.

In the 1940s DDT (Dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane) was heavily advertised for home and agricultural use. In the late 1960s and early ‘70s DDT was frequently in the news regarding its harmful effects on humans, wildlife, and the environment and was eventually banned. On “The Lucy Show” the DDTs were a long-haired pop group and on “Here’s Lucy” they were the letters of Harry’s college fraternity, Delta Delta Tau. Both times the writers were punning on the pesticide which was in the news regularly.

Before she can pay him, the cricket chirps. He is still alive! Mr. Acme says that female crickets make no sound so Liz’s tin cricket is useless. He adds that they can’t see from behind so he sneaks up behind the cricket with a glass jar. It evades him again.

MR. ACME: “I’m going to resort to plan 4X!” LIZ (dramatic voice): “A deadly new insecticide?” MR. ACME: “Worse than that!” LIZ (dramatic voice): “Atomic fission?” MR. ACME: “Worse than that! I’m going to smash him over the head with a mallet!”

In the process, the bookcase falls! The cricket chirps. He tries again. A lamp breaks! The cricket chirps. He tries again. A vase shatters! The cricket chirps. He tries again. The coffee table crumbles! The cricket chirps.

He removes every stick of furniture from the room.

MR. ACME: “There are only three of us in this room. Only two of us will leave here alive.” LIZ: “I hope one of them is not a cricket!”

George opens the door and then Joanne walks in, looking for her pet cricket (whose name is Rollo). The cricket jumps into her hand, much to the aggravation of Mr. Acme. The room is a shambles, but they intended to redecorate anyway. The end!

In the Lucille Ball / Bob LeMond live Jell-O commercial, Liz longs to be in one of those daytime radio serials (aka soap operas).

[organ music plays]

LEMOND: “Listen now to ‘Jell-O’s Other Pudding”.

The title is a pun on the popular radio soap “John’s Other Wife” (1936-1942).

Lucy plays Grandma Chocolate and Bob LeMond plays Dr. Jell-O discussing her daughter Butterscotch. Lucy then plays Little Vanilla, Grandma Chocolate’s rambunctious granddaughter.

In the usual closing bedroom tag, Liz and George are sleeping when a neighborhood cat screeches.

GEORGE: “What’s that?” LIZ: “Well it ain’t Bing Crosby.”

A huge multimedia star from 1934 to 1954, Bing Crosby was a leader in record sales, radio ratings, and motion picture grosses. Lucille Ball did a few motion pictures with Crosby’s ‘Road’ co-star Bob Hope. Crosby was mentioned on five “I Love Lucy” episodes. In one, Ricky says that in Hollywood, he’s “Gonna make that Crosby look like a bum!” Although they never acted together on screen, Lucille Ball and Bing Crosby were seen on several of the same variety shows.

Liz tells George to do something about the cat, but he doesn’t know how. Liz solves the problem by throwing something at it.

GEORGE: “What did you throw at him?” LIZ: “Our cat! Goodnight, George!”

Announcer Bob LeMond reminds listeners to watch for Lucille Ball in Miss Grant Takes Richmond.

The film had opened on September 20, 1949.

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brightlycoloredteacups · 5 years

Text

Poisoned Secrets

Chapter Two: What a Lady

Pairings: Steve x OFC, Bucky x OFC

Summary: When Tony throws a lavish dinner party, everyone involved has their life changed forever.

Warnings: Non-con elements in this chapter.

A/N: As always thank you so, so much to my beloved Beta-Reader @sammi-faye without whom this project would’ve dropped in seconds flat.

Tagging: None

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter

The words “Venus Stark” were written on the paper dozens of times along with other phrases such as “Semper Fi” and “Carpe Diem.” The writing is shaky, uneven but much more legible than it had been the past few months. “You’re getting better,” Bucky observes with a smile. Venus looks up at him proudly. “I have a good teacher.” She tells him.

It’s the wee hours of the morning, the entire house is fast asleep in their bed. They like these morning hours the best. They’re alone together unmolested by people or duty. In times like these they were allowed to be whomever they so wished. Bucky didn’t have to give weak smiles and half-hearted chuckles. Venus didn’t have to avert her eyes to the floor for the lady of the house. They could just be two people, madly in love with each other.

“Are you ready for your next lesson?” Bucky asks. Venus groans, not looking forward to this at all. “Come now,” He teases, “Math isn’t that bad. How are you going to take care of a household if you don’t know simple arithmetic?”

“I know simple arithmetic, what you’re teaching me is the devil’s magic.” Bucky outright laughs at the comment. Still, he opens the book and places it between them. “Alright, this is a new chapter,” He says. Venus, eager to learn all she can, no matter how hard the subject, gets a new paper ready.

As they spend another hour working on mathematics, Bucky takes the time to take in her features. Her wild, black hair is in a loose braid, strands coming loose in curly-q locks. Her deep brown eyes focus on the paper, while the low candlelight paints her brown skin in a red glow. He’s so transfixed by her beauty he misses her question. It’s only when she looks up at him, brows knit together that he understands she even spoke at all. “Bucky?” She asks, concerned, “Are you alright?”

“I’m perfect,” He breathes, leaning in to kiss her. She returns it immediately, as she always will. There’s no passion behind the kiss, just soft gentleness that belies the fierce love underneath. The two become entwined with the other as the kiss goes on, so much so you don’t know where one begins and the other ends. It’s the perfect kiss, and both of them are all too reluctant to stop it.

“I love you.” Venus quietly whispers, not wanting to break the magic of the moment. “And I, you,” is Bucky’s response. They press their foreheads together, enjoying each other’s company for a few moments. The clock breaks the spell, however, and the two part. “Three in the morning,” Venus sighs. “I must get to bed.” Bucky nods. “I’ll wake you at six.” He promises. He won’t be going to sleep any time soon. The demons that plague his mind won’t allow it. “Try and sleep,” she tells him, giving him another quick kiss. “I will.” With a flurry of bedclothes, Venus is gone to her own quarters in the attic.

Bucky, in the absence of his love, turns back to introspection. The images of war come unbidden to him. The dying screams of his brothers’ in arms, looking for Steve in a sea of death. The cannon fire, the smell of smoke, the feeling of another hopeless battle. Soon enough, his head is in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. They had won the war, why did he feel this way so long afterwards?

Was it the guilt? By all accounts, he shouldn’t have survived. He, along with Steve and a few other young gentleman, recognized the atrocity that was slavery. They had sided with the Yankees to help fight for emancipation. At one point, he’d been captured by the enemy along with a few others in his group. A young man had recognized him, and this began the long torture that cost him his arm. That had been all he lost. The others, every one of them had lost their lives. Why had he survived with Death so clearly wanted to lay claim to him? Everyone told him he was lucky, Lucky Bucky they had started to call him, he didn’t feel lucky in the slightest.

He looks at his wooden arm, intricately carved from dark wood, inlaid with silver. The swirling patterns did nothing but call attention to the blasted thing. He often had been asked to recount his adventures in the war, as if it were some honor to have lived while so many others sacrificed their lives. It was disgusting, he was disgusting.

He rubs his eyes, wanting to rub away the images. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” He whispers. “I am thirty-four years old, I am in my house, sitting in the study.” He repeats the sentence over and over, his personal mantra, trying his hardest to pull himself from his memories. Eventually, by sunrise, the memories fade, and he gets ready for his day.

Steve creeps up the stairs, careful not to tip over the tray in his hands. The load is heavy, but his prize is worth it. It’s so early in the morning that the other servants are just starting to awaken. They were shocked to see him in the kitch, preparing the tray, but he just smiled at them and told them to keep his secret.

Standing in front of his destination, he finds himself in a dilemma, does he simply walk right in? Or does he knock? He decides on the former, wanting to awaken Venus with sweet kisses rather than a knock. How he manages to get into the room, he has no clue, but he’s excited.

Venus’s little attic room is barren of all but the essentials, a small bed, and a stand with a basin of water and a cracked mirror hung over that. A brush hangs next to the mirror. An armoire is shoved into the corner, making the already cramped room even more cramped, but where else would she keep her clothing?

He tiptoes into the room, the floorboards creaking underneath his weight. He cringes and watches her form flop over delicately, he hasn't woken her, what joy. He sets the tray down by the foot of her bed, and kneels next to her. “Venus,” He whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Venus, my love, wake up.” He presses another kiss to her cheek. At this she groans, but cracks open an eye. Her face turns into a frown for a few moments, then she pops up, scrambling to cover herself with her meager blanket. “Steve! What are you-? Why are you-?”

He laughs, interrupting her little rant. “I want to bring you breakfast!” He says, inviting himself to sit on the edge of her bed. She watches him, surprise still evident in her face as he picks up the tray of breakfast foods. “Cold cut ham, toast with orange marmalade, and mashed sweet potatoes.” He brings the tray to rest on his lap. “And as a special surprise,” He takes the teapot and pours thick, brown liquid into a cup.

“Steve,” Venus whispers, “You shouldn't have.” Even so, she takes the cup he offers. Taking a small sip she looks at him. “It’s delicious!” She whispers, feeling naughty. She knows this is a luxury she isn’t supposed to have. “What is it?”

“It’s hot chocolate.” He tells her. “Sweetened with sugar, and of course love.” She grimaces, luckily Steve takes it as a small smirk. “Thank you, I appreciate all this, but I have to get up, get going on chores.” She places the cup back down.

He laughs at her statement. “Not today,” He says. He moves on to slather marmalade on a slice of toast. “Today you’re taking lessons from Mother. You have been invited to Tony’s party after all.” Venus gulps, watching as he holds the piece of toast up to her lips. It takes her a moment to realize he wants her to take a bite. “Lessons?” She asks through the mouthful. “Yes, you have to be taught to act like a proper lady. Oh don’t look so distressed, you’ll get the hang of it all in no time.”

“I’m not going.” Venus declares. It had never occurred to her that she’d have to learn how to be a proper lady in order to dine with proper people. She couldn’t learn all the nuances in a day! “Of course you are,” Steve says, brows knitting together, “But you must! There will be dancing! Venus, I want to dance with you, as a lady.”

“I am a lady,” She reminds him. “I meant a proper one.” He argues, “Just for one night. Please, can’t you give me one night?”

“If I’m going to make an utter fool of myself, I suppose it would be for you.” No! This isn’t at all what Steve wanted. He puts the tray down at his feet and scoots closer to her, placing her face in his hands. “My love,” He says, kissing her warm lips. “There is no doubt in my mind that you will be the belle of the ball. Don’t worry so much, Bucky and I will be with you the entire evening.”

She presses her lips together, “Bucky is going?” Steve nods, “And Maria too. I’m sure she’ll be a friend and she’ll help you throughout the night. Worry not my darling, you’ll be fine.” He presses another, lingering, kiss to her lips. She still doesn’t respond to him. “Oh, love, don’t be so cross,” He insists, “The evening will go by fine.”

“And then I’ll go back to being the servant the day after. Oh Steve, really, what is the point?” She pushes him away and huffs, crossing her arms. He can’t be mad at her, not when she looks so adorable pouting the way she does.

The fact was, she was more than just pouting, she was absolutely livid. Leave it to Tony to offer her the very thing she wanted, but only for one night. She felt silly, foolish, and very much like Cinderella. Only there wasn’t going to be a prince to come and set her free. At the stroke of midnight she’d be a servant once more, forever and always. Damn Stark, and damn Steve. Damn her lot in life, damn everything and everyone.

As she’s busy cursing everything one evil, terrible, earth shattering thought comes to her. She will have to break things off with Bucky...eventually. They are of different stations in life, he will one day find himself a pretty white woman and marry her, have pretty white children with her. She will find a black man and have his children. It's the way her destiny is to play out. So shouldn’t she take this one night and keep it for her forever? Just one night of make believe. One night she gets everything she wants.

“Don’t look so put out, dear. It really will be alright.” Steve tells her, placing yet another kiss to her lips. “It’s only one night. Then everything will be back to normal.”

“Yes,” She says, mustering up a smile despite the pain in her heart. “It’s only one night.

“A lady must always be mindful of her manners.” Sara instructed. Venus had been through a very odd day. There were so many rules of etiquette to follow that her head felt as though it were stuffed with cotton. The only good news she felt was that she was going to be chaperoned the entire night. And she shan’t be allowed to talk to anyone, considering she hadn’t ‘come out’ yet. Come out, what a ridiculous rule for women to follow.

She supposed everything was easy enough if you remembered the golden rule of it all. Don’t bother men. It made her want to vomit. What about don’t bother women? Had that rule been placed in the footnotes or something? Women were far busier than men were, taking care of babies and the household. She sighs, it’s all so hopeless. “Young ladies don’t sigh.” Venus bits her lips. “Young ladies don’t bite their lips either.”

“It seems to me,” Venus says, a little irritated, “That young ladies don’t do much of anything.” Sara doesn’t humor her comment. “The point of the night is to be seen, not heard. You aren’t going as a proper woman tonight, but rather, a young girl-”

“Who hasn’t come out yet, yes, yes, I remember.” Sara's obvious displeasure softens at Venus’s dejected tone. “Oh, don’t worry so much about it.” Sara tells her. “You’ll have fun, I’m sure.” Venus had to respectfully disagree, but she didn’t say anything to the contrary. Sara was being rather nice to her, taking out an entire day to try and hammer in all the lessons she could in such a short amount of time.

“Let’s move on to something else.” Sara suggests. Just then, Bucky walks by, “James, darling!” Sara calls. Bucky halts in his tracks and enters the parlor. “Yes Ma’am?” He says, giving her a genuine smile. Venus knows it’s so, it reaches those beautiful eyes of his. Stop that, she scolds herself, you’re supposed to be falling out of love with him. “I was just getting ready to teach Venus how to dance. Would you be so kind as to suffer through the lessons with us?”

Bucky gives Venus a quick panicked look. She shoots him an equally panicked one. Everyone knew about Steve’s dalliances with her. He was none too subtle about his ardent desires, but Bucky? They had both kept that as secret as possible. Bucky didn’t want to hurt Steve, Venus didn’t want to be kicked out. Could they make it through this without getting caught?

Bucky gives his foster mother a strained laugh, “I’m going riding with Steve,” He told her, “I can’t possibly-” He stops when Sara’s look hardens. Gulping, he nods, resigning himself to his fate. “Alright,” He says, “I’ll help.”

“Excellent! Now, Venus, you stand over here, and Bucky, you take her hands like this, good. Perfect. Don’t look so stiff you two, you aren’t going to burn each other.” Sara laughs at them, not knowing the turmoil going on beneath either breast. She turns on the gramophone and the two start dancing.

Venus stutters in her steps not knowing which way to go, while Bucky smoothly guides her across the floor. She’s never danced in her life before; this was something altogether new. Sara corrects Venus constantly, “Let Bucky lead. Don’t look so stiff. You’ll step on his feet if you keep doing that.” Even so, her criticisms died down quickly as Venus got the hang of it. She even enjoyed it somewhat. Bucky, with his own smirk, seemed to be enjoying himself as well. Soon, they were sailing across the room, lost in one another’s company.

How easy it was! Just being there, in the parlor with Bucky, in the arms of her love. She was quick to forget her earlier promise to herself. Just play pretend, she thought, just for now. There was no way he was going to dance with her tonight at the dinner. No one would, not with the little mixed girl, she had the unfortunate problem of being too dark. But she would take this for now, just one little dance, and keep it, for herself. One last thing to keep.

They stop abruptly when someone clears their throat. “Teaching Bucky how to dance Mother?” It was Steve. Both parted quickly, their faces heating. “Actually, I was teaching Venus how to dance. Apparently, this is the lesson she picks up right away.” Venus didn’t dare glace up at Sara. She knew now. “I was just coming to meet you,” Bucky says, changing the subject quickly.

Venus watches Bucky as Steve slings an arm over his brother with ease. How wonderful it must have been to have a friend like Steve. Venus envies the two for a moment. They walk out of the parlor, laughing at some private joke and disappear into the house, ready for some other adventure. Venus takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She had to get back to the task at hand, for she had her own adventure to embark on.

They were out in the fields now, racing each other on horseback. For an instance, Bucky feels like his old self again. The wind stinging his face, his hair flying about him. The feel of the great best beneath him as they thunder down the fields. It’s a joy he often forgets he has the privilege of taking. They slow only once they get to the creek, and Bucky is reminded as to why he agreed to this outing in the first place.

“Steve, I wanted to talk to you,” He starts, not daring to look the blond in the face lest he lose his courage. Steve would have that easy smile placed there, as if the war hadn’t caused him a lick of trouble. Somehow, Bucky thinks, despite being such a sickly child, Steve had been bred for war. That wasn’t the point now, the point was to talk to his friend, his brother, about his feelings. “About what? You can tell me anything.”

Bucky nods, taking in a deep breath and letting it go, he starts. “It’s about Venus.” Slow and steady. “Ah, so you know.” Bucky frowns. “Know what?”

“About me and Venus.”

“Everyone in the house knows.” Bucky points out, teasing him. Steve chuckled as his ears color red. “I can’t help myself.” Steve admits. “She’s the most beautiful woman in the entire world.” Bucky could agree with him on that point. “I love her James,” Bucky’s heart lurches in his chest, Steve never called him James unless he was being serious. “I love her deep brown eyes, her rough hands. I love her wild hair. They way she makes me feel, as though I’m the only man in the world for her.” Bucky could relate to the feeling. “I don’t feel half alive as I do when I’m with her. I’m determined to marry her.”

This hits Bucky like a ton of bricks. Marry her?! Bucky knew Steve had an infatuation with Venus, but he’d never known the boy to be so serious. He takes a good look at his friend's face. Bucky realizes that Steve is, in fact, in love with Venus. It’s there, the dreamy look settled over Steve’s features as he conjures the image of Venus in his mind’s eye.

Bucky feels his heart rip in two. He can’t tell Steve. He can’t ruin his friend’s clear happiness. Besides, Steve would inherit everything once old man Joseph died, wouldn’t it be nice if Venus had a man who had capital? Someone that could take care of her. A man that was whole and mind, body, and spirit. He realizes then how selfish he had been, how foolish to think he could keep the goddess Venus to himself. No, he simply must break things off with her. It would be painful, like losing a piece of himself, but in the end, it was the right thing to do.

Tony walked around the darkened room, excited for the night. His collection was to be the envy of the South. There were the usual suspects that came with the collection, such as the canopic jars holding organs, couches made of gold, the Book of the Dead to help the soul in the afterlife. Jewelry so gaudy it hurt to look at even in the low lighting. And the coup de gras, the mummy herself.

She was a creature of sublime magnificence. Standing in her coffin, arms crossed over her chest. Even in death she looked as austere as the records said she was. He couldn’t wait to tell the story of Aziza.

The queen had been stricken from many of the records thanks to her savagery towards her enemies. All Tony ever found of her were texts too scared to even mention her in passing without invoking the protection of the sun god himself. But his finding told an entirely different story.

She was indeed a savage, but to those that followed her, or was allied with her, she was as benevolent as the earth mother. Heaping rewards on those that served her best, she was cruel, but fair, and it seemed as though her people had no qualms about living under the iron fist of a woman, so long as she kept their enemies at bay.

She was so highly regarded that Tony was certain she had a pyramid all to herself, though it had been washed away with the ravages of time. His conclusion came from the winding hallways he’d had to traverse in his dig. The traps and spells unbroken for centuries until he came along to plunder it. He laughed aloud at the memory of the servants he brought from Cairo, all on their knees imploring him not to open her sarcophagus. “Let the sleeping beast lie,” They had said in the barbaric tongue, “Let her rest in peace, lest we all die.” He shrugged them all off, ordering them to get back to work, he had no time for such incredibly stupid superstitions.

And now, she was his, all his…Aziza, the Envy of the South.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #poisoned secrets

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roraruu · 5 years

Text

wip: pity and fear

Faye doesn’t like to cry. She’s not a pretty cryer like Celica was, or Gray’s sisters are. They come hard and fast, rolling down her cheeks like thunder and lightning and not stopping until she’s got a headache. And the worst of it is that Faye’s an angry cryer. When she’s pissed off she’ll feel the heat of anger wash down her neck and to her cheeks and meet in her eyes. Her breath becomes heavy and her voice becomes high and wham! Tear city baby.

She feels them come on when Alm says something stupid. Really, really stupid.

“I guess we all should’ve stayed back.” He mumbles more to himself than anything.

Faye feels the rush of angry tears come along. All means her, and should have means go away. She’s heard it everyday since they were kids, both silent and spoken. She knows he still resents her a little bit for making Celica go away. But Faye can’t help that she was taken and held at lance-point. She can’t stop the fact that Mycen saved her and ordered Celica away. If anyone, he should blame Tobin.

But he won’t.

So Faye turns on her heel and bites down on her lip hard, walking to the edge of camp where her steed is. She begins to tack her bridle on and prepare her as if she is going for a ride, the wind whipping her tears away across her face in long streaks—

“You shouldn’t leave this late.”

She stops, biting harder on her lip to stop the tears, threatening to break the skin and bloody her face. She can feel the gasps coming, the angry bellows of a gasp that threaten to fly from her mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She forces as calmly as she can. At best, it sounds like she’s run too fast and is struggling to catch her breath; at worst, it gives away that she wants to be alone to cry. Lukas’s footsteps are deafened against the forest floor, but she can still hear him walk, his gentle, measured breathing. Faye glances away, wiping at her face with the edge of her right sleeve, the other clutching her steed’s rein like it is a rope out of a well. She hasn’t changed out of her uniform. The fabric is rough and harsh against her nose. “What do you want Lukas,”

“The other villagers said you ran off in a hurry. They thought you had been hurt.”

She laughs, bitter and harsh. She muffles the sound against her sleeve. “Only my pride.”

“Hm.”

Her knuckles go white against the reins of her steed. The horse eyes her both tiredly and nervously. “Faye, may I ask what happened?”

“You may not.” She says. The last thing she wants to do is to spill the beans on why her friends loathe her. Why their conversations always exclude silly little Faye; why she was forced to play healer even though staring at broken bones protruding out of the body makes her nauseous; why she has to hurry after them on horseback and make sure Silque is safe while they fight and gleam like--

“Then might we walk together?” He offers. “Perhaps it will clear your mind.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“I said nothing of talking. I would not mind the silence.” He says calmly, gently as the lapping edge of the water on the shore.

She can feel the quakes, the trembles and sobs coming on. They are desperate to come out, bubbling over like a boiling pot. “F-Fine.” She says shakily and turns on her heel again.

Faye walks faster than Lukas, keeping a good distance ahead of him. There’s a mark, a crease has formed on her lip from biting down so hard and long, the skin thankfully unbroken. No surprise there, it is the last damn that holds her tears in. It is like the Sluice gate, and she, Zofia which threatens to flood.

She listens to his footsteps behind her, giving her distance that she craves, needs for the sake of her pride. And being blunt—Lukas does not seem the most nurturing or tender type. But gentleness It is not exactly in the recipe for a good nobleman, especially one who lends his lance to the rebel army.

But Faye isn’t exactly a good village girl. She’s an only child who has her family behind to fight a war for some crush. Her friends keep her at arm’s length and the sweet cleric speaks to her only because she wishes to talk of womanly things. And her knightly mentor looks upon her with intent to make her a warrior, but knows she will never be one of such calibre.

Why am I here? She thinks. The words shatter the dam. Her teeth lift from her lip as her footsteps begin to drag and slow. The tears begin to flow, running down her face in hot rivers, glossing her moonlit cheeks. Her hand comes up to swipe at the tracks, first the tips of her fingers, and then the heel and finally whole hand rubbing at her eyes like she’s a child. She struggles for a breath, becoming a shaky hiccup and a loud “fuck” following.

She resists falling to her knees but still crumples into herself. Her elbows lock inwards to her chest and her neck curves so that it’s inline with her chin. She gasps again, another hiccup, another cuss until the sobbing subsides and the telltale headache comes along. When she looks up, Lukas is holding a little square of cloth in his hand. Gently, with his voice as smooth as velvet, he speaks:

“This was my Mother’s handkerchief.” He remarks, unfolding it. The edge is a soft pink and there are tiny little flowers embroidered in opposite corners. “She gave it to me many years ago. Here.”

His calloused hand reaches out with the pretty handkerchief in the middle. The hands of a soldier hold something so delicate, so... regal. It is jarring to the eyes, her tears parting to take in the sight. Gingerly, he tilts her face up to his, wiping away the rest of her tears with such tenderness that makes her wonder if there is kindness in a soldier. She focuses on his half-lidded brown eyes, the thin line of his lips, the soft curve of his brows. Lukas does not judge, nor does he ask again to speak of it. Instead he wipes away her tears with a gentle touch and holds her gaze as he holds the handkerchief to her.

“Where is your mother now?” She asks in a small voice, still shaky.

He doesn’t answer. A pang of sorrow strikes Faye like a lyre’s chord. Of course. Noble or common, death is not choosy. She wonders too many things now: how old he was when she died, if he was allowed to mourn, what had happened otherwise and if it only helped his joining of the Deliverance.

But she realizes one thing--with the handkerchief knit between her hot fingers--is that her tears have stopped.

______

The Deliverance finds no reprieve on Rigelian soil. Instead, hardships and shortcomings surface and Lukas wonders if Valentia is the land of sorrow.

He finds no calm in sleep, no relief. In the dark of the night, almost the aurora of dawn, Lukas lays awake. Nuibaba’s abode is a place of near death for him, a place of terror. The witch had almost killed him with one fell blow and would have had not Faye sped her horse fast enough to take the blow for him. She’d thrown her javelin in a perfect arc and distracted the witch with time for Python or Tobin to take aim and shoot an arrow to kill. Lukas finds cannot remember which one of them did it, only the memories of that creature before his eyes. Medusa, terror of the dead.

He can still feel the ache of white magic against his skin, running along every inch of his body. Silque had healed him hours ago. Perhaps it is that which keeps him awake.

He stares at the velvet ceilings of the mansion, age-old chandeliers are marked with gossamer and dust. They all sleep in the same area, the front room, all silently afraid to venture too deep into the abode. No one wanted particularly wanted to stay the night, but travelling down Fear Mountain in the dead of night and after a long, harsh battle seems beyond unwise. Hell, if Lukas did not have the self-control, he would be clutching his lance tightly and sleeping as he had done many nights in the woods before reaching Ram Village.

He sits up, eyes roving around at the sleeping bodies of the Deliverance and their new sainted recruit. While the thought of venturing deep into the abode scares him, the thought of laying in wait for possible death scares him more. As quietly as he can, he gets to his feet and creeps out to one of the side rooms, a table and chairs set up in the middle with wide bay windows that overlook the side of Fear Mountain. And when he does, his mind begins to conjure cruel thoughts, perhaps a leftover trauma of his brother. Silently, in his own voice, he hears it.

Why are you crying noble boy? What reason do you have to? So many people have it worse than you and you’re having a little pity party for one. What do you think the world’s going to stop and give you a break you backwater, no good, second rate progeny? You were lucky to have been bo—

“Lukas.”

He jumps a little, hands clenching into fists out of habit. Faye stands in the doorway, eyes widening only in shock. Her brow crumples in a way of pity and fear. Like a deer, she cautiously takes a step forwards; the floorboards whine.

“Faye,” he musters his most calm voice. “Are you alright?”

“I should ask you that.” She says, coming closer. Her braids are tangled and fray out in flyaways.

“I could not sleep.”

“You look horrible.”

He laughs a little bitterly as she crosses the floor and stands in front of him. He’s suddenly very aware of how tiny she is in comparison. He must have grown used to seeing her astride her steed, ready to fight Gingerly, she reaches up, her warm hands grazing the side of his face, the pad of her thumb running under the bags of his eyes. “Lukas,”

“Yes Faye?”

“You know you’re crying right?”

His hand instinctively reaches up to touch his cheek, her hand flying away. “No, I suppose I did not. I was lost in thought.”

“It’s alright.” She says softly. Her hand moves to her hip, pulling out his mother’s handkerchief from the pocket of her uniform. “It’s good timing I guess. I’ve been meaning to give this back.”

It’s folded and neatly pressed. In her hands it resembles the day his mother gave it to him, gently pressing it into his palm. “Here.” She says and he holds the handkerchief, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Faye sits down at the table with him. “Was it a bad dream?”

“More a waking nightmare.”

Faye glances to the dark depths of the abode. Short hours ago they had fought for their lives but now they rest as peacefully as they can. For a moment they sit in relative silence, watching life outside the abode carry on. Such peace does not belong in a chaotic place. But can it truly be interpreted as peace? Zofia had been liberated and the invaders have been deterred from their homeland, but corruption and depravity still haunts their lands. And moreover, they are far from calm and peaceful, they are in Rigel, land of the strong and proud. When Lukas looks up from his lap and the handkerchief in his palm, Faye’s eyes are on him.

“Did I ever tell you about when I was a child?” She asks quietly.

His brow creases. “You did not.”

Faye glances between the dark door and him before leaning close. “I don’t like to talk about it but--” She says quietly, as if they are sharing gossip. “I was in a situation like you were today.”

She’s a soldier, of course she has danced with death before. But so easily Lukas as forgotten how he came to her village and saw her hands itching for an axe at the sight of him. “Really?” He asks.

She moves one of her plaits over her shoulder, showing a shiny mark on the side of her neck. A scar. She keeps her eyes from him and talks lowly. “When I was little, I was almost killed.” She whispers. “Luckily I was saved but I could have died easily. I used to have dreams I was back in the same situation and just…” She winces, her hands gathering the sleeve of her uniform. “Sometimes the scar will hurt and I just remember--”

She stops. “What I’m trying to say is that this is a nightmare.” Her eyes flicker with sadness and determination. “But we are trying to end it right? One day we’ll wake up and things will be better.”

Her words are not comforting in the least. She realizes that, with the way her lips crinkle as if hard in thought. But Faye reaches out, her fingertips graze the edges of his fingers and run along the tendons of his thumb before curling around his cold hand. She looks beyond him, out the windows and into the uncertain night, and Lukas realizes that his tears have stopped.

#ru writes #wip #faye #lukas #yall know how cathartic it is to write ur faves crying and comforting each other?#this ties in with red

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spartanroses · 6 years

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"Again."

Though he speaks firmly, Kratos allows his tone to soften as he watches Atreus struggle to stand once more. The boy seems to have grown tired of crawling in what few moments he spends out of his mother's arms, and has been trying over the past several days to get himself upright. Faye helps him, offering encouraging words and a steadying hand, and now Kratos decides to do his part, cross-legged on the cabin floor while he watches Atreus' efforts.

He stuggles to balance himself, feet firmly on the ground as he pushes himself upright. He wobbles dangerously once he stands on two feet, then falls back onto his bottom. His brow scrunches up in frustration, and though it is a strange expression to see on an infant, it is one with which Kratos is intimately familiar. He knows better than to let it go much further.

"Atreus." Soft, again. He reaches out and picks up his son, standing him up on his feet. Atreus looks uncertain, but Kratos does not let go, hands steady on his sides. "Focus, boy. Steady."

Atreus blinks big, blue eyes up at him, then lifts his hands, making a small sound. Kratos tries to ignore the instinctive urge to pull him in close, keeping him on the floor instead. The boy will learn to walk eventually, and sooner is surely better than later. "Ready?"

He takes the long eye contact as his answer, and slowly lets go of Atreus. Atreus, to his credit, does not seem terribly concerned by this. He stays right where he is, swaying gently but otherwise undisturbed. Kratos feels a swell of pride in his chest. A small first step, but a first step all the same.

"Good." He cracks a tiny smile, and when Atreus starts to wobble again, making a nonsensical sound of distress, he reaches out to pick the boy up once more. This time, Kratos gives into his instincts and pulls Atreus to his chest, cradling him close. "You are improving. Before we know it, you will be walking on your own two feet."

Atreus does not respond to that. Instead, he curls in close to Kratos, little fingers gripping at his beard and a tiny yawn slipping free. Time to rest.

It might be silly to praise a child for learning the very basics of walking, but Kratos treasures every moment he is allowed to spend with his boy. After having his entire life torn from him, he knows better than to take these things for granted; time moves too quickly for his tastes, and before long, Atreus might not need him at all. Certainly not the way he does now.

Kratos will take what he can get for however long he can. He will not allow Atreus’ childhood to slip through his fingers. He has no desire to learn that lesson a second time.

#kratos #atreus #god of war #back at it again with soft dad things #mine #my fic #this is my go-to genre when i'm itching to write something #i'm tired and i didn't proofread so sorry if there are any dumb typos

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betsonbetty-blog · 6 years

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Now What? Pt. 7

Hey I'm back. Let me start off with I am so sorry it has taken me so long to upload this chapter. I have been in the middle of a bunch of exams as well as double shifting at my job. I would have posted it sooner, however, I absolutely hated what I had written. I literally threw everything away multiple times. Only one of those old drafts is still on my computer. Also, reviews make me really happy and motivated to write so if you could do that it would be awesome! Anyways, hope you enjoy!

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Part 7

"You will not believe what some of these college students in at that university do!" Alya recounted her experience during her study abroad semester. "They have this weird ritual when they get their class ring. So, the ring is a big deal over there. Once they receive it they drop it in a pitcher of beer and then chug as fast as they can. So many people throw up. It was insane." Adrien and Nino came back in with all the stuff Nino needed, calling the attention of the three girls sitting down.

"Alright, that should be it. I should have it ready in an hour, but remember it still has to sit for 24hrs." Nino began setting up first grabbing what looked like a jar filled with cinnamon sticks.

Marinette worried over Adrien. Their friends didn't want to say what had happened to Gabriel, but they assured him he is well. Chloe stood up after glancing at her phone. "I need to head out. I promised Madeline to help her finish fixing up the nursery today. Sasha is almost here, and we want to be ready," Chloe glowed as she spoke. Alya's hand went over her heart with a soft face. "I will be back tomorrow morning. Adieu," Chloe blew a kiss at the group and walked out.

Alya stood up shortly after, "I need to go too. I have deadlines to meet. Thankfully, Nora was free to watch the boys. This school break couldn't've come at a worse timing. I will see you later. Alya hugged Marinette, "Au revoir."

"This is going to smell really strong. You might want to go to a different room. Can I open the windows?" Nino looked up from what seemed a cauldron.

"Yeah, whatever you need. I guess we'll be around if you need anything let Amanda know," Marinette grabbed Adrien's hand and walked outside their office.

Once out of earshot of Amanda, Marinette turned to Adrien smiling "how about we explore more of the house?" The hallway filled with Adrien's laughter from looking at his bug bouncing from excitement. Nodding he began to follow her. The hallway led to the living room with a grand piano off to the side. "This is amazing!" Marinette quickly went to touch the quilted couches.

Adrien's eyes didn't leave the piano as he felt himself gravitate towards it. Immediately he went to the left corner and there it was. E.A. in elegant font. He felt his mouth dry and throat tightened as his eyes began to sting. He felt Marinette's arms slip around him. Adrien took a deep breath and cleared his throat, "E.A. Emilie Agreste. The piano belonged to my mother. I hadn't seen this piano since my mother's disappearance. Father had it in her study. A study he kept under lock and key. I never thought I would see it ever again." There was fondness in his voice as he spoke, "Have I ever mentioned the reason I love the piano?" Marinette shook her head as a nostalgic smile formed on Adrien. "My mother used to play the piano with me every day. She taught me piano. I would always change the melody," tears began streaming down his face unable to contain themselves anymore. "Honestly, if it wasn't for my father I would still enjoy the piano tenfold," Adrien grabbed the notes on the piano, "Fur Elise. I wonder why this still here after so many years."

"Daddy are you going to play right now?!" Emma's voice rang through the room from where they had just come from. "Daddy why are you crying?" Emma looked up at Adrien with wide blue eyes and smiled, "I know, I'll sit next to you and play just like you used to with mamie. That always makes you happy when you're sad," Emma caught him by surprise. Marinette couldn't help to smile as she saw the warmness in his eyes. Adrien nodded and removed his glasses to wipe his eyes. Emma lit up and sat on the bench as Adrien sat to her right. The notes were familiar. His chest filled with a warm sensation. Lucky for Adrien had been practicing this song for a while now. Emma began playing the simpler notes on her end, however, she changed some of the notes. This caught Adrien of guard and caused a knot to re-form in his throat. Marinette leaned on the piano as she stared at the love of her life with their future daughter. The sight of them would have stopped her fourteen-year-old heart, but as an eighteen-year-old she simply felt love. Love towards the boy she fell for twice and love for her daughter.

The song ended as Louis walked in holding a device, "mommy I want to play with you." Marinette smiled as the boy walked over. However, internally she couldn't stop her mind racing. She didn't know how to play the piano. The kids were going to find that they weren't their parents. Well they were, but not at the moment. What was she going to do? Her eyes flickered at Adrien for a second, but it wasn't enough for him to notice. Emma had his full undivided attention. Louis handed her the device in his hands while he beamed as he looked up at her. She felt herself relax. Video games, of course. "Oh, can we connect it to the big tv this time?" She could practically see stars in his eyes, his father's eyes, with his hands clenched in front of him.

"Of course, minou," Adrien's heart fluttered as she spoke. This was his future. Louis ran to the tv at the other side of the room.

A brunette woman entered the room, "Mr. and Mrs. Agreste, I have finished packing lunch for later. Mrs. Amanda informed me you have plans with the children later. I will be back around 5 o'clock to watch over the kids tonight."

Adrien ransacked his brain for her name. "Thank you, Camille," Marinette smiled sweetly at her. Adrien was glad one of them had remembered her name. The woman nodded and left. "Alright, think you can teach me how to play again," Marinette sat next to their son and ruffled his hair reminding her of Chat Noir's hair.

Louis lit up, "silly mommy, you always forget," he excitedly began explaining to Marinette. The game was a simple platformer and the duo began to play together.

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

It was a beautiful sunny day out. Adrien was finishing up strapping in Louis on the booster seat as Marinette was putting the picnic basket in the back of the car. Marinette had made sure to pack extra cookies and Adrien asked her to pack camembert. They had decided on having Marinette drive since she had a lot more experience. Gabriel had only recently and reluctantly allowed Adrien to learn to drive. They set the GPS to the park Nino had recommended before he left. A man in a suit knocked on the window and Marinette lowered the window, "Marinette Adrien, Claude and Faye are ready to go. Are you positive you don't wish Eric to drive?"

Marinette smiled lightly laughing, "Alexander I am positive." Alexander fidgeted slightly clearly uncomfortable. Safety was his number one priority. Every time Adrien or Marinette chose to drive themselves it made him uneasy. However, he knew they were more than capable of staying safe. All members of security knew their secret, but never spoke of it to them. Marinette and Adrien weren't the sneakiest of people. Sometimes it caused all of them to laugh when they would see them 'sneaking out' or the ridiculous excuses they give. One thing they were good at, nevertheless, was hiding how they become superheroes. Being the best bosses they have ever had and at this point practically family, they always worried about them. "Relax Alexander," Marinette petted his arm.

Alexander sighed in defeat and smiled, "very well. Enjoy your afternoon." Alexander walked back into the house closing the doors behind him.

The afternoon past by in a blur. Claude and Faye stayed near by enough to notice them, but not enough to eavesdrop. Adrien and Marinette spent the time talking and laughing as the twins played. Plagg and Tikki imputing every once in while from the picnic basket. They remembered all the signs that they were Ladybug and Chat Noir. "Every day it was Ladybug this Ladybug that. It got even worse when he realized he had fallen for your civilian self. 'Plagg what do I do? I am in love with two different girls. Am I a horrible person? I don't deserve either'," Plagg teased his holder. "So many times after your fight against Dark Owl I wanted to say something, but couldn't because of the damn spell," Plagg grumbled and grabbed another piece of cheese. At some point, Marinette lightly punched Adrien in the arm for all the times he made her worry as Chat. The drive back was a quiet peaceful one. The twins had fallen asleep in the back. Adrien looked at them and smiled. Two wonderful kids and one on the way, he took Marinette's hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. She smiled as she turned slightly pink.

When they arrived at the house one of the maids, Liliane, was already waiting for them. Quickly she rushed to assist with unloading the car. Marinette handed the keys to Eric. Without waking the twins up, Adrien and Marinette managed to carry them inside and put them in bed for a little longer. Adrien walked downstairs to let Alexander know Eric would be driving Marinette and him to dinner. He was so excited he almost didn't notice Camille, "oh perfect. Camille, would you mind waking the twins up in twenty minutes? They fell asleep in the car after the park. I want them to be able to sleep at night."

"No problem, Mr. Agreste," Camille continued walking.

Amanda had told Marinette she picked up her dress from the dry cleaners for tonight and was hanging in the closet. She walked in the shower and began singing. Hearing Marinette singing made Adrien feel like the luckiest man alive. As soon as she was done she got out to allow Adrien to shower. Adrien was finishing up laying out his outfit, a blue suit with black tie, when she walked out. It hadn't occurred to either one of them that Marinette would have only a towel on. The moment they realized it, both turned completely red. "Sorry," Adrien looked away while he put his hand on his neck. Marinette quickly scampered into the closet. Adrien swallowed hard. A cold shower that's what I need. A very cold shower. He stripped and went in. As he began to shower he noticed the products. Strawberry scented shampoo. He smiled. He was helplessly in love with a girl who made him fall twice.

Marinette was still blushing when she saw the dress. It was a dusty pink cocktail dress with an empire waistline and strap halter neckline. She quickly started on working on her hair and makeup. The dress was thankfully easy to zip up. Adrien knocked letting her know he would be downstairs waiting on her. She found gorgeous gold heels and clutch and was ready to go. Adrien was in the middle of a conversation with Eric when he saw her walking down the stairs. Absolutely sublime. "You never fail to look amazed at her. I hope one day to find someone to look at the way you look at her," Eric's voice brought him back to earth. They told the twins goodnight and headed off. For the rest of the night Adrien couldn't keep his eyes off her.

Adrien kissed Marinette for the millionth time that night. Adrien straighten up as Marinette removed her makeup and a wide grin appeared on his face, "hey, what do you think on going out for a run?" Marinette nodded smiling and rushed to finish up. Once done they held hands with their kwamis floating above them. They nodded at each other, "Plagg" "Tikki" "transforme moi!"

They didn't have to say where to go they already knew. The Eiffel Tower was lit as always. Once they reached the top they sat in their usual spot. "So, new Ladybug outfit. I like it. The black really makes the red pop."

Ladybug tapped his bell. "Ever the charmer, chaton," Ladybug laid her head on her husband's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her and they stared off into the night in the city of lights.

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fefiction · 6 years

Note

Tobin, Kliff and/or Gray (aka the kiddo gang minus Alm and Faye) hmm either Nsfw headcannons or date/cuddle headcanons

Kiddo gang (minus Alm and Faye) Cuddle Headcanons:

Tobin:

Tobin loves cuddling. He’s all about being close to his s/o and he’s often the one to initiate the cuddling.

Tobin’s up for cuddling of any kind. An arm around the shoulder, spooning, head on shoulder, back to chest, he literally does not care. As long as his s/o is close to him, he’s content.

Tobin is the softest cuddler around. He’s one of those who is constantly and gently rubbing his thumb on their hand or their arm, and he’ll randomly place soft kisses along their neck or cheeks. And he’s soft, literally. His chest is the perfect area to lay and his s/o has been known to fall asleep in his arms on many occasions.

Tobin and his s/o get tangled up in their cuddling all the time. They’re the legs-tangled-sheets-wrapped-around-them kind of couple. Somehow, someway, they always end up a mess of limbs tangled together. All they ever want to do is be close to one another.

Tobin has a difficult time picking a favorite cuddle position, but if he was forced to pick, it’d be the ‘honeymoon hug’, where he and his s/o are chest to chest in an embrace. He feels it’s the closest he can be to his s/o and he loves it. (It also is perfect for giving them sweet kisses)

He also enjoys the ‘sweetheart cradle’ as well.

Kliff:

Kliff always tries to deny the fact that he loves cuddling but once his s/o finally gets him to relent, he becomes the biggest cuddler ever.

Getting Kliff to cuddle is a process. First, his s/o has to get him close, so they can slowly start the process. Once they are close enough, it starts off by leaning into Kliff. He always notices this right away and makes some comment, but he subtly leans in closer to his s/o. Then his s/o will ever so slightly rest their head on his shoulders and allow their hands to find purchase on Kliff, whether it be his hand or his arm, and once they feel Kliff loosen up they finally wrap their arms around him. Eventually, Kliff will sigh in mock exasperation and wrap an arm around his s/o’s shoulder, but anyone can see the small smile that works itself onto his face.

Kliff’s favorite cuddle position is when his s/o leans into his side and snuggles into his shoulder or neck and he can wrap his arm around them. He likes it because they can’t see his face (he’s a blusher).

Gray:

Gray would be the kind of guy that would love to cuddle with his s/o, but he’d always be playing around with them. What I mean is, he’ll be holding his s/o tight one second and then the next he’s tickling them or licking their ear or doing anything silly to get them to squirm and laugh in his grasp.

Gray loves being the big spoon. He’s the type to engulf his s/o and bury their face in his chest. On occasion, he’ll relent and be the little spoon but somehow, he always eventually turns them around and becomes the big spoon once again. He claimed that as his rightful spot.

Gray always lets his hands wander. He’ll start out with his arms wrapped around his s/o’s waist to slowly trailing up their arm and being caught playing with their hair, to sliding back down to rub at their thigh. Sometimes it gets him in trouble but for the most part his s/o enjoys the attention that he subconsciously gives.

Gray’s favorite cuddle position is to have his s/o situated between his legs and having their back to his chest, so he can rest his head atop theirs.

#fire emblem echoes #gray #kliff #tobin #headcanon #cuddle #Anonymous

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ironstank · 7 years

Text

WHEN A GIRL MEETS BOY

PAIRING(S): 40's!Bucky x Reader, Dum Dum Dugan x OFC Dotty

WARNING(S): Curse words

WORD COUNT: 1973

AUTHOR’S NOTES: I wrote this on a whim and I love it so much fvlgffbnefjnf Bucky is actually my most favourite thing in the planet like he could punch me in the face with his metal arm (or what used to be his metal arm) and I would thank him for it.

Listen to How About You by Judy Garland (1941), then You’ll Never Know by Alice Faye (1943)

MASTERLIST ( ! ) • PROMPTS ( ! ) • ASK BOX ( ! )

1943, SOMEWHERE BEHIND THE ENEMY LINES

War was a mean place. You knew that better than anybody.

You were an army nurse, straight out of your father’s farm in England. But simply put, you were an army brat. Your father, an old veteran, now a farmer. Your mother, an old army nurse, now a wife of a farmer. Your brothers were also soldiers of war, like your grandfather, and his father before him, and his father before him.

1939, the army was recruiting. It was not voluntary. Anybody over the age of 18 and unmarried were expected to enlist. Your brothers saw it as an opportunity to mean something – to be a part of something bigger than themselves. But truth be told, they probably left to impress the ladies in town.

Nevertheless, your brothers run off with their heads held high and brave faces, but your father was not glad. He was not proud. He did not wave them goodbye with a smile on his face, his arm was not around your mother’s waist with a look of pride and joy. In fact, your brothers had left in the middle of the night, through the window, leaving all but a light kiss on your forehead before they had run off to the save their country. Four years had passed, and you had not heard from then since.

You hated them for it. And then you didn’t, because soon enough, you had done the same thing. You followed your mother’s footsteps like your brothers had followed your fathers. You had left with all but a daisy on your bed, and a red stained lip kiss on your favourite handkerchief your grandmother knitted you.

Now, you hated yourself for it.

Your lovely parents only ever wanted you to be safe – all of you. Your brothers, yourself – your parents always said they hated every second they ever spent in war.

Now you were somewhere in Italy, far, far, away from the safety of home. You, along with a dozen nurses you soon began seeing as the sisters you never had, were kidnapped and captured and became prisoners of war. You along with hundreds of Allied soldiers.

Many had come and gone. None came back. They were taken for something. Torture, interrogation, experiments, whatever it was it couldn’t have been good. You and your girls had been there for months. You didn’t speak German, but a Dorothy did. She was your friend.

SEVEN MONTHS AGO FROM TODAY, FOUR DAYS AFTER BEING TAKEN:

“What are they saying, Dotty?” You whispered towards her.

Dotty brushed her blonde hair away from her face. “They refuse to touch us.”

Mary, another friend of yours, whispered beside you. “Like what they’re doing to the soldiers?” She raised her brow.

Dotty nodded. All of you sat on the floor of the cage you were locked in. Her hand was raised on the bars as she stared at the NAZI soldiers. “Yes. Not until they capture more of us.”

You raised your brow. “Pardon me?”

“They need more women to experiment on, but they don’t have enough. They’re waiting until they catch more of us.” She gulped and spun around. “Then they’ll begin.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

The newest set of soldiers were American – mostly. You and the girls were used to British and French soldiers, actually, you’d met a couple of Australians along with way, too. They were all dead now.

Winifred had already made friends. She was another nurse from your infantry. She asked them the same questions she always asked the newbies. What infantry are you from? How many of you? Any women with you? And, will there be anyone coming to save us?

On average, it took the Germans months to get through one infantry since there were hundreds of soldiers. Currently, your girls and the 107th infantry were on standby. They had arrived two months after you and your girls, making a total of five months of being imprisoned together.

Beside your cage, was a group of soldiers, none too savage and pig-headed, in fact, they were gentlemen. When they first arrived, they ratted you tired from their questions. None of which were about their safety, but instead, about yours.

“Are you ladies hurt?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Did those bastards touch you?”

“We’ll fucking kill them if they did.”

“C’mon, doll, don’t shy away, tell us the truth”

James Buchanan Barnes.

Oh, he was a dream. Mocha brown hair, bright blue eyes like heaven. His face was as handsome as he was kind. A total dreamboat, in your opinion. Young, handsome, brave, intelligent, and his smile was the brightest out of all. He became your best friend. In his cage, there was four of them left – once upon a time, there were twenty-two. When the Germans return, his odds weren’t so great.

He first met you when you were sat on the floor with the girls. The soldiers of war were crying, wailing, screaming, threatening. The 107th was new then, and one thing you and the girls had realised was that soldiers all went through the same stages. Anger, more anger, frustration, sadness, then acceptance.

And you were just about sick of it. Sure, you let them be, you allowed them to be men – to be human. But these men, goodness me, they’re anger lasted at least three times more than all the others.

Dotty’s head was on your lap, the other girls were also sitting and fiddling with each other’s hair. “I miss my victory rolls.” Dotty pouted.

You smiled softly and continued to brush your fingers through her blonde hair. “I know, darling.” Before you could say more, the sound of angry men fighting interrupted. Your words died before they were born. You remembered your life back at the farm; picking flowers, collecting eggs, milking the cows, picking strawberries. The sun seeped through your skin as the fresh, clean wind blew past your face. You’d be wearing a clean dress that always got dirty before noon arrived. Even then, there wasn’t anyone to judge you. And to past the time, you’d sing. You took a deep breath.

“When a girl meets boy / life can be a joy / but the note they end on / will depend on little pleasures they will share / so let us compare.”

Soon enough, the men of war began to silence. Dotty’s face turned to awe, and hundreds of eyes were on you.

“I like New York in June, how about you? / I like Gershwin tune, how about you? / I love a fireside when a storm is due / I like potato chips, moonlight and motor trips / How about you? / I’m mad about good books, can’t get my fill / and Franklin Roosevelt’s looks give me a thrill / holding hands at the movie show / when all the lights are low / may not be new, but I like it / how about you? / I like Jack Benny’s jokes / to a degree / I love the common folks / that includes me / I like to window shop on 5th Avenue / I like banana splits, late supper at the Ritz / How about you?”

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice broke through the crowd of soldiers.

Your eyes turned to his. And suddenly, it was only you and him. “Hi, Buck.”

He beamed. His eyes were just as tired as yours, and his heart probably as heavy. “What was your mother like?”

You smiled at his question. “Well, she was beautiful. A strong woman. She was also an army nurse, like me.” You smiled at the thought of your mother. “She’s every bit as hard-headed as I am.”

He held your index finger through the holes of the cage. “She sounds wonderful.”

You nodded, brushing your [Y/H/C] hair behind your ears. “She would have liked you.”

A soft and playful look washed over his face. “You’d want me to meet your Ma?”

You giggled and nodded once more. “I think you’d be the first man my mother would approve of.”

His posture straightened ever so slightly in pride. Then he paused, frowned, then turned to you. “You bring home men a lot?”

“No, silly.” You smiled, wiggling you finger that was in his hand. “I lived in a farm. Not a lot of guys like a lady who gets dirty.”

Bucky huffed. “I do.”

Your smile widened. “I know.”

Silence came from the both of you, comfortable silence, anyway. You listened to the conversations of the others. Dotty had gotten herself an older fellow. She was as fond of him as he was of her. His name was Dum Dum Dugan. You received a wink from him as you caught his eye. You grinned. You hadn’t even noticed Bucky’s eyes on you until he spoke again.

“They’ll be back soon, doll.”

Your face fell. No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be happening. “Don’t say that, Buck.” You whimpered.

His brows narrowed as he turned to you in concern and sadness. The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall. “Doll, don’t cry.” He whispered. His grabbed as much of your hand as he could, rubbing his thumbs on your skin. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t you do that to me, sweet girl, look at me.” And so you did. “Now, you know I love the sound of your voice. And your eyes, man that has to be one of my favourite things about you.”

Well, that was it. A tear had escaped and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “Buck … ”

He sighed, then chuckled drily. “I really wish I got to take you on a date.”

You sniffed then shook your head. “You will.” You nodded at him through your tears. “Oh, James, you will. Just survive, and when we get out of here, take me to dinner at your favourite restaurant. Take me to meet your ma, and your pal, Steve. You said they’d like me. You know how much I like being praised.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened. “That punk.” He chuckled. “Alright, I’ll even take you to meet the fellas at my barbershop. I already know Ma’s gonna love you. So will Rebecca.” – his baby (and favourite) sister out of four. You sighed and nodded. The comfort from his fingers seeped through you. “Can you do me a final favour, doll?”

Your eyes bounced from his left eye to his right. You’d already memorised the difference. The iris on his left eye was slightly larger. The one on his right had specks of darker blue. There were creases on the sides of his eyes. This man smiled so much, they left permanent evidence of it. The sides of his mouth twitched up as he noticed your stare. You had memorised his face as he had yours. “Sing for me, doll.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

“You’ll never know just how much I miss you / you’ll never know just how much I care / and if I tried, I still couldn’t hide my love for you / you ought to know, for haven’t I told you so / a million or more times / went away and my heart went with you / I speak your name in my every prayer / If there is some other way to prove that I love you / I swear I don’t know how / you’ll never know if you don’t know now – ”

You couldn’t finish your song.

The Germans had come to take him in their arms.

THREE DAYS SINCE YOU’D SEEN BUCKY:

The sound of footsteps woke you up.

You blinked rapidly, your eyes desperate for clear sight.

“Who are you supposed to be?”

You began searching your surroundings until you spotted the source of the voice. A man was perched over the cages, hands ruffling in a bag. The commotion had gotten everybody’s attention.

“Captain America.”

Dotty cocked her head from beside you. “Are you wearing tights?”

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