#anyways i was crying at my spot and my supervisor saw and she was like ‘ok lemme see what i can do’ and went and played on her phone

[arthur-kingsmen]

stressing and agonizing and pulling my hair out and screaming

[spencers-renaissance]

can't un-sing a song that's sung.

Summary: The worst thing about it is that Derek isn’t even surprised when he gets the call.

Tags: drug use, overdose, hurt/comfort, guilty derek & hotch, angst with a hopeful ending, bedside vigils, protective derek & hotch NO MCD

Pairing: Gen (Platonic Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid; Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid)

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Major TWs, obviously. I'm just so angry that no-one did anything about Spencer's addiction in season two, so I decided to punish Derek and Hotch by having the (almost) worst-case scenario come to fruition. Fic inspired by this gifset & title from this poem (v short but v poignant) Fills the 'Overdose' square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card.

The worst thing about it is that Derek isn’t even surprised when he gets the call.

His heart sinks, of course, and his stomach feels like it bottoms out. His chest tightens and he struggles to breathe for a minute and a half, his hands clamming up as his tongue freezes and he can’t find the words to respond to Hotch over the phone. But he isn’t surprised. And that, when it really and truly comes down to it, is exactly where his sins lie.

He races as quickly as he can to the hospital, not obeying the traffic laws by any stretch of the imagination as his hands grip so tightly at the steering wheel that his knuckles turn white and the pattern of the leather; the seams where it's sewn imprint themselves on his palm. His heart pounds rapidly and it’s all he can hear, blood thudding in his ears as the tight knot of anxiety sits heavy in his stomach.

He’s just pulling into the hospital car park when he realises that the last time he felt like this — God, the last time he felt like this was when he first realised Spencer was missing all those months ago. He heaves a dry sob as he abandons his car in a space he hopes is the right one, and slams his palm down hard on the steering wheel once.

He allows himself one more guilt-ridden, heartbroken sob before he forces himself to calm down, doing his best to ignore the tumultuous emotions raging inside him as he shuts the car door behind him and hurries towards the entrance.

It’s hard not to cry when he first locks eyes on Hotch. Seeing his calm, stoic supervisor in a state of utter disarray — red-rimmed eyes, messed up hair, ruffled clothes — somehow makes this all seem a bit too real. Maybe in the car ride over he’d still clung to a small, pathetic bit of hope that this is all a nightmare, that he’ll wake up in a minute and he’ll drive to work and Spencer will already be at his desk, beavering away.

In the harsh lights and bustling noise of the hospital corridor, he knows that’s not going to happen.

They don’t say anything as they stare at one another, both clearly struggling to bite back the raw emotion threatening to spill from their eyes, to unleash itself in a full blown meltdown. Eventually, Hotch sits back down and buries his face in his hands, and Derek joins him on the little two-seater bench.

He doesn’t claim to know much about hospitals or medical care in general, but he knows for damn sure that waiting on a bench outside the ICU is not good, and he’s doing everything in his power to not think about that too hard.

They’ve been sat in stony silence for countless minutes before Derek finally lifts his head, though he still can’t bring himself to look at Hotch again. “Have you called the others?”

Hotch swallows, and Derek can see the tear-tracks trailing down the side of his face out of the corner of his eye. He pretends not to notice them.

“No,” he says, voice unsettlingly shaky. “Only you.”

He decides now is not the time to dwell on that. “Is he— is he going to lose his job?”

The only reason none of them had done anything sooner was because they knew how important this job is to Spencer. And Derek hates with a burning, roaring passion that their hesitation; their cowardly delay, might have cost him his life instead. Just the thought brings another choked sob from his lips, and this time the tears come with it. Before he knows it, his shoulders are shaking violently and all the emotions Derek is struggling to name finally come pouring out, right into Hotch’s lap.

He feels an arm wrap around him and he’s too broken not to lean into it, seeking comfort from the one person in the entire world who can offer it right now. Falling apart in his superior’s arms is not how he saw his Thursday evening going, but he’s too exhausted to care.

By the time he finally pulls away, Hotch is crying too, and they sit a little closer on the bench.

“Spencer won’t lose his job,” he says determinedly, looking Derek in the eyes. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Derek knows that they will have to lie. Papers will be forged and Hotch will be backed into an impossible corner, and he knows that they could lose their jobs if they are ever found out. He doesn’t fucking care. They’ve already failed Spencer in a disgusting, immeasurable, utterly unforgivable way, and he’ll be damned if they ever do that again.

“Good,” he says, and that’s the end of that.

Derek doesn’t understand most of what the doctor tells them, but he doesn’t really care that much for the technicalities anyway. All he cares about is that Spencer had overdosed in the parking garage of his building and was found by a neighbour he doesn’t even know that well. He cares that a damn near stranger was there for Spencer when he wasn’t, and he cares that Hotch was called as his emergency contact, and as such, Derek can finally step up. He can walk into his room and hold his hand and tell him that he’s here now, and he’s not leaving again.

He cares that Spencer is going to be okay.

He’s still asleep when they’re finally allowed to take their seats by his bedside, and Derek tries very hard not to cry at the sight of him, but it isn’t easy. There’s still a bluish tint to his fingernails, and he looks pale and clammy under the oxygen mask. Medicine drips slowly into the line connected to the cannula in the crook of his elbow, and the heart rate echoing out from the monitors is still alarmingly quick.

The evidence of Derek’s failings is staring him right in the face, and it’s hard not to turn away, but he refuses to let himself. He has a lot to make up to Spencer, but he can damn well start by sitting with him here in his darkest hour.

“We all knew.”

Derek looks up from Spencer’s hand to meet Hotch’s eyes. “Yeah.”

“We all knew, and we didn’t do anything about it.” The guilt in Hotch’s voice is momentous enough to rival Derek’s own, and it hurts to hear. Derek failed Spencer as a colleague and a friend-maybe-something-more, but Hotch failed him as a father figure.

He feels tears well up in his eyes again and he does his best to swallow them back down. “Emily did.”

A violent sob tears itself out of Hotch’s lungs, and it’s so loud that Derek almost flinches. “And isn’t that just so much worse? She barely knows him! I met him at lunch with Gideon when he was nineteen, I’ve known him for seven years! Before all of this went down, he almost called me ‘dad’. And I sat back and watched him suffer with both the PTSD of being kidnapped and the fucking heroin addiction he developed because of that bastard, and I did nothing!”

Derek’s at a loss as he watches Hotch break down in front of him, his voice breaking as he shouts, tears streaming down his face as he dissolves into sobs.

“He’s never gonna forgive me. Nor should he. I can’t stand myself right now.”

A little uncertain of the right thing to do, Derek stands up and crosses to the other side of the bed and wraps his arms around Hotch like he did for him only hours earlier. “We all fucked up,” he agrees, “but we’ll get through this. We might never forgive ourselves, but we can always do better. We can do right by Spencer as he recovers, we can help him get clean, help him keep his job, remind him of how loved he is. We can’t abandon that duty just because we failed at doing it before.”

Hotch sits back up and wipes at his eyes furiously, casting his eyes on Spencer. He reaches a hand out and brushes it through his short but untamed curls tenderly, his thumb caressing his eyebrow and forehead gently.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I won’t fail him again.”

Both Derek and Hotch spring into action as soon as Spencer stirs, waking up slowly through the layers of sleep until he’s staring at both of them with a look of terrified uncomprehension in his eyes.

“Hey,” Hotch says softly, hand moving to cup the side of his face. “You’re alright, you’re safe. You’re in the hospital with me and Derek, and everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Spencer slowly looks around the room as the realisation of what’s going on slowly dawns on him, and soon the anxiety is replaced with abject horror and to Derek’s dismay, he immediately starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, pretty boy,” he murmurs as soothingly as he can, following Hotch’s suit and tangling his fingers in Spencer’s hair. “Don’t worry about anything right now, okay? Hotch and I are gonna fix everything right up, and we’re gonna help you. We’re gonna help you like we should’ve helped you before.”

He hates that he loses his composure slightly at the end, but Spencer relaxes slightly so he takes it as a win.

“You can go back to sleep now, Spencer,” Hotch says gently, spotting the signs of exhaustion easily. “We’re gonna stay right here with you, okay? We’ll be here when you wake up.”

When he does finally awaken again, he explains through tears and strangled breaths that he didn’t mean to, that he wasn’t trying to die, he was just so tired and in so much pain that he hadn’t calculated the dosage right.

Hotch and Derek calmly explain that they’re not judging him, and that they’re going to help him through the hospital’s rehab program. Spencer refuses their apologies but they repeat them anyway, trying not to show just how much they hate themselves as they do.

They rope Penelope in, and she helps them make sure Spencer keeps his job, but otherwise their team is entirely oblivious to their chaotic and regret-filled Saturday night spent in George Washington University Hospital.

Most of all, though, Derek does absolutely everything in his power to make sure Spencer is happy, no matter how torn-up and scarred he might feel when he goes home to his own apartment. It isn’t much compared to his property business and his coveted role at the FBI’s behavioural analysis unit, but to Derek it’s his most important and worthy mission in life.

And if that spirals into something more, well. Maybe that’s just one good thing to come out of that small, stuffy, heartbreak-riddled ICU room.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)

[lebenspurpur]

33 and 21 bestie

33. what is the best way to spend Halloween, in your opinion?

I love just strolling around my city's streets, dressed in a costume but one that captures my original personality. I love scaring other "older" people out in the streets and I love gifting the trick-and-treating children my candy, I have a really weird soft spot for kids.

21. is there a scary story that really frightens you or that just really stuck with you? a legend, a myth, something purely fictitious?

I know so many scary stories, sometimes it's really difficult to keep track of all of them.

Something unfortunately really real that stuck with me until today though (TW religious trauma??):

Also haha long story ahead, I think it's worth reading but hey, your decision, champ. My therapist would be so proud of me for sharing this *wipes tear*.

As a child, around 8 years old or so, I was in a summer camp around an hour's drive away from my town. It was for around 7 to 11 or 12-year-olds.

I didn't know anyone in the camp but it was about horses and trust me, at that time, horses were the shit for me. It was organized by this free protestant church. I wasn't raised as a catholic and I remember being worried about them finding out. My mom reassured me that nothing would happen to me.

So everything's fine, I arrive there, my mom leaves and I meet my "tent mates". They've been at this camp before and I asked them how it was, hoping for a good time.

They told me it was a great camp and I, relieved, proceeded to enjoy my first day. The camp was around 10 days long and after one night, I already noticed weird things.

Not only did we have to pray in silence every single morning at 7 o'clock and before meals, riding was also really not the main focus of the camp. We spend maybe an hour a day doing it.

The main supervisor told us he wanted to surprise his girlfriend and propose. He also told us he'd need our help. We'd have to make a "hallway" out of our hands that she could walk through.

Excited, we all did as he asked. She walked through our little tunnel, super confused. He asked her the question and she... said no.

Heartbroken, the main supervisor started crying and we all confusedly watched his girlfriend rush away into the fields behind our tents. That was the last time we saw her.

The next morning we overheard the other counselors whispering over her disappearance and how they saw her leave in a black van with a stranger. They joked about a secret boyfriend but most of them were truly concerned, thinking about a possible kidnapping.

We were in the middle of nowhere so everything seemed a little more threatening.

During the next two days, things got worse.

The girlfriend didn't show up not did she contact anyone. By now we were sure it was a kidnapping. The counselors told us they knew about who might've kidnapped her and we had to help them find that person.

Worrying about our all safety, all the children agreed to help them. By now, more supervisors, as well as children, had started to disappear.

The counselors proceeded to send us on these very long searches in the middle of the night. They made it seem like a scavenger hunt, something fun, but they had us search for ominous, threatening notes sometimes hid in bushes, human-looking dolls,, or traps (I don't think they were dangerous but they looked real.).

I went on one of them but it scared me to death.

The second night I stayed home, much to the dismay of the supervisors. They shamed everyone who wanted to stay in the tent, threatening them to leave them alone in the camp.

I stayed in my tent anyway, too frightened to leave again. It didn't help that these little "scavenger hunts" took place in the forest.

They told the truth, I was left alone in the tent for the time of the hunt, which was around two to three hours.

The only thing these notes we found told us anyway, was that there was this huge, powerful, and influential person that kidnapped the one girlfriend.

Suddenly the supervisors told us a different story. Apparently, this influential person didn't mean anything bad, and we were supposed to help them.

So the next day we made a shrine with the notes, we even picked flowers. This person was a god now, we even kind of had to pray to it.

The camp was nearing its end and I could not have been happier. I don't think I had ever felt that scared before.

The last evening we made a giant meal. They had us hang a huge cross on the wall across from us.

We ate, everything seemed calm for once. Then, one adult stood up and told us that they'd made a speech.

It was about the influential person, the missing people, and how we'd fix all this.

The solution was easy, the person wanted an offering, a sacrifice and it'd have to be one of us children.

The table went quiet as the supervisors walked through our seats, looking for a fitting offering. They had an unbelievably frightened little girl in their grip as everything stopped. And they laughed.

The next hour was spent with the supervisors explaining that this all had been a joke, a story they told. They read the bible to us, especially the story they based this whole shit off was read multiple times.

At that time, I only felt relief, not anger. Nowadays I feel mad at how delusional someone has to be to scare little children into believing they're not safe for a whole fucking week.

End of the story, the children and the adults reappeared, healthy and having a good time. The man who wanted to propose told us the, apparently hilarious, story of how he had to dribble lemon juice into his eyes to get that "i-cried-the-whole-night" look.

My mom got me the next morning, interested in what I had to tell. I didn't say anything until we were in the car, numbingly explaining the events that had happened to me.

My mom was shocked, too shocked to confront them about this. She drove me home, I felt safe again and it slipped to the other memories from my childhood.

In the end, the thing that I keep wondering about is the other children. There were definitely kids who had been at this camp before. Why didn't they tell anyone about this story? About the supervisors plan?

What did they get bribed with? Or... in the worst case, threatened?

The camp doesn't exist anymore. The church who planned it, does.

I still play with the thought of revisiting the whole place, see if it brings up any other emotions. My therapist loves that idea but we don't listen to her here.

I hope you got freaked out hah.

ʟɛɮɛռֆքʊʀքʊʀ

[sincerelyreidburke]

won’t you lay me down

Hi, I wrote some CCU hurt/comfort fluff. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but bear with me.

In which: Derek has a bad mental health day. Will has his back.

Also on ao3!

///

Will doesn’t see the text at first.

It’s not really his fault. Monday mornings are busy. After morning practice at 6:30 (Will likes that better than evening practice, and as captain he’s tried to keep the practice schedule relatively consistent), he has a meeting with Hall and Murray for thirty minutes while the rest of the team filters out to their respective morning activities and routines. It’s the last he sees of Derek until the afternoon, every Monday— because after Will’s meeting with the coaches, he’s straight off to his internship in Boston for the rest of the morning, then comes back to campus for his 2:30 CS 381 class.

So when the text comes in, he’s mid-transit from Boston to Samwell, sitting in traffic on 128. As a general rule, he doesn’t check his phone while driving. Also, why the fuck is there so much traffic in the middle of the day on a Monday.

He doesn’t understand Massachusetts drivers.

Anyway. It’s when he gets back to campus that he sees it, sitting in his lockscreen over the wallpaper of him and Derek.

18m ago

Derek: do u mind if i chill in the basement

Derek: can’t focus in my room, c is playing music

Oh. Will unlocks his phone, sitting in his student parking spot. He and Derek use each other’s rooms all the time, even outside of their constant sleeping-over in each other’s. Many a time has he returned from class, internship, or other obligation to find his boyfriend hanging out in the bungalow.

They have their own spaces in the Haus, but they do their fare share of, well. Sharing.

Sry just saw this , he sends back. Was drivung. Of cuorse you can use the basment

He looks at the text thread for a second, then sends a <3 after his message, and tucks his phone away again.

On to the next thing.

Class is sort of tedious today, but what’s worse than it is the actual trek back to the Haus from the compsci building, because it’s frigid outside, a chill that gets to his bones even in his winter jacket and the beanie he stole from Derek. In typical New England February fashion, it’s supposed to snow tonight, or at least that’s what he thinks he heard from someone at his internship this morning. He spent most of his shift working out a kink in his supervisor’s code, and he was lost in the numbers and symbols for hours.

He likes it. It’s satisfying to figure out a program.

When he reaches the Haus, finally , Whiskey and Ford are hanging out in the kitchen. He waves to them on his way by, then wonders if he should bake tonight. Maybe after his homework, he can make cookies. The pie he made this weekend is gone already, because all three of the freshmen were here yesterday, nothing he bakes lasts long in their presence.

Will heads straight downstairs, and the door to his room is closed; the lights inside look like they’re off. He eases it open, reaching for the light switch. Derek must have finished whatever he was doing.

Or— not.

Derek is here, and he can tell because he hears Dwayne Johnson singing. He freezes with his hand on the light-switch before he can turn it on, and steps all the way into the room instead, where he catches sight of him— or at least catches sight of what he knows is him, under several layers of cover.

Derek has burrowed himself into Will’s bed with his laptop, and he’s watching Moana , the light of the screen on his face the only source of any light in the room at all. He’s wearing Will’s Samwell hoodie, the good one with Poindexter and 24 and C on the sleeve, and its hood is pulled over his head, strings drawn to make his face look like a blue-lit mask poking out of it. He looks only half-invested in the movie, because he’s resting his face on his arm, scrunched up to the pillow.

Will’s stomach turns. Bedridden Derek in his stolen sweatshirt and Moana are a combination that can only mean one thing.

He closes the door, gently, behind himself. “Der?”

It appears that this is the first Derek actually notices that someone else has entered the room. Will hears the click of the space bar, and the Rock halts mid-chorus. “Oh,” comes Derek’s voice from his blanket cocoon, and it’s small and drawn, the opposite of his loud bravado. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” Will drops his backpack at the door, then goes directly to him, crouching on the steps that get him to the loft bed. “Hey,” he says, across the laptop. “Are you okay?”

Derek pauses. He purses his lips at his computer screen, then sighs and lowers it. “Ch’yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m alright.”

With the laptop closed, Will reaches for his face. He cups his stubbly cheek in one hand, runs his thumb across his cheekbone. Derek looks blank, drained. Will knows this demeanor well by now.

“No, you’re not,” he whispers. Without the light of the laptop, it’s nearly dark inside. The slivers of gray daylight from where Derek pulled the shade on the window are all that remain.

Derek breathes in like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He nuzzles his face into Will’s pillow a little more.

“Der,” Will whispers. He kneels on the steps, pauses his thumb by Derek’s ear. “Gray day?”

Derek whimpers a little, like it pains him to admit it, but nods. “Yeah.”

Will keeps gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “This morning?”

Derek bites his lip. “Didn’t feel it this morning.”

“Oh.” Will pauses. “When did it hit you?”

He closes his eyes. “When I got back to the Haus.”

Will frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Derek’s eyes are still closed. He shakes his head. “You couldn’tve known, babe.”

For a moment, the room is quiet. Will pushes Derek’s laptop aside a little. “What can I do?”

Derek takes his time, answering. Will is patient. He knows how to do this. He slides his hand into his curls under the hood; they’re matted, and they’ll be worse if he just lays in bed for the rest of the day. “You want to tie your hair?”

Derek takes a long breath.

“You don’t have to,” Will adds. “But if it’ll help you for later…”

“My scarf’s upstairs,” Derek mumbles, weakly, like upstairs is a continent away.

“It’s okay,” Will tells him. “I can get it, baby.”

Derek’s face contorts a little, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t; he just opens his eyes. His eye contact is distant, like he’s staring more into space than back at Will, but he’s trying, and Will knows that. “I love you,” he whispers, and then, “I don’t feel well.”

“I know,” Will hushes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek groans.

“Never be sorry,” Will says. “Ever.” He kisses his forehead, feather-light, and then tells him, “I love you too. And I’m gonna go get your scarf, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Derek winces again, like something hurts. He nods, though, slowly, and rests his cheek on the pillow again. Will pulls back to go, but God, it’s hard, because he knows how much Derek hates being alone when he feels like this, and he’s already been in here by himself for God knows how long—

Okay, he’ll only be gone a minute. But even so, he feels the need to fill that space. He climbs down to his bookshelf, reaches onto its center shelf between Derek’s poetry books, and grabs hold of his oldest friend.

“Here,” he whispers, bringing Cromwell up so Derek can see. “Do you want a friend?”

Derek eyes the plush lobster, and though he doesn’t look like he has an ounce of energy to smile, his eyes soften. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Will hands him over, and Derek engulfs the little red thing in his sea of blankets, resting him right under his nose. The visual would be cute, if Derek weren’t in such a bad spot. Will caresses his cheek again, then smooths the few curls that are poking out of the hood. “Be right back, baby,” he says. “Do you know where your scarf is?”

Derek pauses, then shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” Will assures him. “I’ll find it.”

This was hard, at first, being so new to this side of him, and not knowing how to help him. But they’ve been together for eight months, and Will knows Derek’s gray days by now, knows the tells for when he’s feeling down, knows a few remedies that help to ease the numbness.

He makes a beeline for Derek’s room upstairs as fast as his legs can carry him. The space itself is even evidence that Derek isn’t feeling himself; there are more clothes on the floor than usual, and the bed is unmade, and his desk looks like his notebook exploded. Will sifts through his dresser drawers, between Samwell shirts, pairs of gym shorts, random articles of Will’s own clothing that’ve been stolen, but there’s no sight of the green headscarf he wears sometimes to bed. He moves his search to the desk, and then to the actual bed, and he’s about to give up when he finds it tucked between the down comforter and the sheets.

Success. He heads back downstairs.

“Hey, Dex, is Nursey in your room?”

“Oh—” Will halts in the kitchen doorway. The question came from Ford; she’s still at the counter. “Yeah,” he replies, poking his head around the corner. Tango has now joined the kitchen gathering. “He’s just watching a movie.”

“Oh, cool.” Ford nods. “I just didn’t know if he was in the Haus. I thought I saw him go down there, like, two hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Will says, “he’s with me.”

Tango waves. “Hi, Dex!”

“Hey, Tango.” Will opens the basement stairs door.

Chowder knows this version of Derek as well as Will does, but the rest of the team doesn’t. It’s what’s buried under the chill, what he could never stand to let people know about himself.

Derek’s brain is awful to him sometimes.

Back in his room, he finally takes off his winter jacket and closes the door behind him, then climbs up the steps to his bed again. Derek is still snuggling with Cromwell, but his laptop has moved; he’s pushed it to the pouch adjacent to Will’s headboard where he keeps his phone, occasional book, and other random stuff while he sleeps.

Will unfolds the scarf. It’s silky smooth. “Gave up on Moana ?” he hums.

Derek rolls over and nods. Will kicks his sneakers off, then crawls onto the mattress, which squeaks a little under both their weight. He slides a hand under his back— Derek is very, very warm, but that’s the way he likes to be when he’s like this— and eases him up into a sitting position. “Sit up for me, babe?”

Derek moves with his touch, nice and easy, and when Will has him sitting up, he slots himself against his back, lets Derek lean on him. “You want me to talk?” he asks as he pulls the hood off his head. “Or do you like the quiet?”

Derek hums a little. “Talk. Please.”

“Okay.” Will combs through his curls, then pulls the scarf tight around them. He learned this on YouTube, after his third time hearing post-funk Derek lament that his depression was ruining his hair. “It’s supposed to snow,” he tells him. “Five inches.”

Derek groans. “Fuck that.”

“I know,” Will mumbles. “But if classes get cancelled, I’ll make cookies.”

“Mm.” Derek hums again, as Will pulls the knot at the back of his neck tight. “What kind?”

“Still deciding.” He hooks his arms around his neck, pulls him close, and kisses his cheek. “You can file a request, if you want.”

“Snickerdoodle.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.” Derek pauses. “For tying my hair.”

Will noses into his neck, drops a kiss there, and then moves back up to his face. “Of course, Der.” He turns him a little, cups his face in one hand. Derek still looks gray, and he looks, God, he looks so tired ; he always does when he’s like this, but it pains Will every time.

He wants to take every ounce of hurt away from him.

“What can I do?” he asks.

Derek takes a long breath while he thinks about it. His words, on these days, come slowly. “Um.” He nods to himself, like he’s thinking about it. “Do you have homework?”

Will shakes his head. “I have plenty of time to do it.”

“Okay.” Derek pauses, then, “Lay with me?”

“Yeah.” Will nods. “Ayuh. Of course.”

They wind up curled into the blanket pile, with Derek pressed tight against Will’s chest, a little further down the bed than him so he can tuck his face into his shoulder. Will presses a kiss to the top of his scarf, holds him as close as he can. He knows the pressure helps him, eases his brain a little. Cromwell rests on the pillow, somewhere near the both of them. He’s a little extra moral support.

“Thank you, Will,” Derek says, with an exhale, as he nuzzles into his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Will replies. “Always.”

“Mmf.” Derek wraps himself around him, arms and legs and all. His voice is muffled when he speaks again, but Will knows the words anywhere. “You and me.”

Will nods. “You and me.”

It’s a mantra and a promise. Hell or high water. Good days and gray ones.

“I’ve got you,” he tells him, and he’ll never let go.

[artificialqueens]

Stupid For You, Chapter 9 (Crygi, Jankie) - Metaluna

Chapter summary: After the day from Hell, Crystal and Gigi have an important conversation.

Being a happy person is something that Crystal prided herself in. No matter what, she always tried to have a positive outlook on life, even when Ryan was bad to her, or when her parents weren’t around. She could always look on the bright side of life.

That was until she and Gigi fought. She’d never felt such negativity in her eighteen years. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, Brita’s party happened, which led to Vomitgate. Vomitgate was singlehandedly the worst thing that had ever happened to her social life. Now, she couldn’t go to work without someone whispering about her in the breakroom. Everywhere she went, someone was there to make her feel embarrassed, usually people she didn’t even know.

While she sat in the breakroom, she saw a girl that Gigi worked with, whose name she thought to be Dahlia, whispering to some girl Crystal didn’t recognize. The moment Crystal looked in their direction, the other girl shushed Dahlia and they both laughed.

Finally she had enough.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Crystal demanded.

“Excuse me?” the girl asked coolly.

“I know you and everyone else in this fucking park is talking shit about me.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes. “We’ve got good reason to.”

“Are you kidding? You can’t tell me you haven’t been messy at some point. In fact, I’ve heard stories. I know you’re messy.”

Dahlia sat dumbfounded as Crystal turned her back.

“Hey, girl,” Heidi said as she sat across from Crystal.

Crystal grunted in acknowledgement.

“Don’t pay attention to them.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Crystal whined.

“I don’t know. I know for a fact Miss Dahlia over there definitely got sick at my party and completely missed the toilet,” Heidi said staring at Dahlia, making sure she’d heard every word.

As Crystal lay her head on the table, groaning dramatically, she felt her phone buzz.

Gigi.

Heidi saw the shock on Crystal’s face. “It’s not your boyfriend, is it?”

She shook her head. “Gigi.”

Raising an eyebrow, Heidi said, “Oh, shit. What’s it say?”

Crystal read the text aloud to Heidi.

Hey. I know youve been going through it, and that really sucks. Id like to talk things through if youre down

Crystal’s thumbs couldn’t move fast enough.

oh my god its so good to hear from you. yea things have been Awful… i definitely wanna talk when are you free??

“She wants to talk about things,” Crystal said to Heidi, as she feverishly tapped her fingers on the table anxiously awaiting Gigi’s response.

Okay awesome! Im soft closing tonight, so Im off at 8. Games is off at 8 at the latest right? Meet me at the ferris wheel.

“Wait, why does she want to meet at the Ferris wheel?” Crystal asked, looking up from her phone to Heidi.

“The grand tradition,” Heidi said dramatically. “Anytime there’s any grief with two people at the Isle, you take a ride on the Ferris wheel to talk it out. Mainly because the two of you are stuck together, so you either sit awkwardly or talk through your shit.”

“That’s… weird. Okay.”

Crystal quickly typed up a response..

ill be there!!!!

Crystal felt relieved. Things were finally turning around. Or so she’d hoped.

Later on, Crystal’s shift at the ring toss game was interrupted by a middle-aged mother’s tirade at not winning a single time. “Can’t I just buy the prize?”

Normally Crystal was sympathetic, but considering it was the third time that day and she was already having a terrible day, her responses were short, much like her temper. “No. You have to win the game.”

“You’re ruining my little Lucy’s day!” the woman motioned to her little devil spawn.

“Sorry,” Crystal mumbled.

“I know you probably don’t give a fuck and probably don’t even want to be here, but you’re literally ruining our vacation! We paid good money to be here and now I can’t even win this fucking game? Are you serious?”

Crystal shrugged as she accidentally let out the yawn she was holding in.

“Young lady, you are being extremely rude!”

“I can call my supervisor if you want,” Crystal offered, taking the radio off her belt.

“No. I’m going straight to guest relations.”

“It’s to your left as you leave the park.”

Just as the woman turned to leave, the woman turned around and spat in Crystal’s face. At first, Crystal was in such a state of shock she didn’t realize what happened. By the time she processed it, she let out a scream.

Thankfully, Widow stopped the woman from leaving as Ben called Brooke who came out to handle the situation almost instantly. Before long, there were two security guards who came to escort the angry woman and her child out of the park.

Just as on her first day, Brooke comforted Crystal. “Are you okay, honey?”

Hot tears ran down Crystal’s face as she shook her head. “No.”

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Brooke led Crystal back into the money room. As Brooke gave Crystal a bottle of water, the floodgates opened. Every single negative emotion Crystal had been feeling the past couple of months rose to the surface. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried this hard.

“Let it out, honey,” Brooke rubbed Crystal’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Crystal apologized. “I’m sorry you’re stuck taking care of me again.”

Brooke smiled compassionately. “I like taking care of you all. It’s kind of why I do this.”

Crystal wiped her eyes. “Really?”

She nodded and hesitated before she continued. “I feel like there’s something else going on. Being spat on is disgusting, but I feel like just from what I’ve seen with you interacting with guests and just in general, you aren’t yourself right now, are you?”

This only made Crystal cry harder.

“Deep breaths. Talk to me.”

Once she caught her breath, Crystal told Brooke everything. Starting from her fight with Gigi, ending with Vomitgate, she put everything on the table.

“Vomit…gate?” Brooke questioned. “Okay. Well. That’s terrible. I’m sorry your peers are being so immature. I can try to say someth–”

“No!” Crystal shouted. “Sorry… I mean… that’s not necessary.”

“Don’t worry about it. Also, Crystal, every season I feel like there’s a new host who just has the worst luck with guests, and it’s always the gentlest souls, too. I’m sorry to say that it’s you this season.”

“Oh fucking great,” Crystal muttered. “Sorry.”

“I don’t fucking care if you swear,” Brooke said laughing. “But, because that woman did spit on you, which is considered as an act of violence. So, I’m going to need to take you to HR and you’re going to have to file a report.”

Brooke immediately saw the panic on Crystal’s face.

“You aren’t in trouble, not by any means, Crystal. It’s just to make sure that this is on record. Do you want to press charges?”

Immediately, Crystal shook her head. “No. That’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Crystal nodded.

Once Crystal managed to stop crying, Brooke grabbed a Kleenex to fix Crystal’s makeup, and led them to the HR building. Crystal hadn’t been to the HR building since orientation on her first day.

Brooke led her into the room where park orientation was held. Instead of there being rows of chairs, there was a table with two office chairs on either side. A woman who looked like she shopped exclusively in the clearance section of TJ Maxx with a tall stack of papers in front of her was sitting on one side.

“Do you want me to stay?” Brooke offered.

“Yes, please,” Crystal whispered as she sat across from the woman.

“You must be Crystal,” the woman began. “I’m Monique. Please, sit.”

Crystal pursed her lips and didn’t say anything. Brooke, who was sitting next to her rubbed her back in reassurance. “Yes.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened today?”

No. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Start from the beginning. I’m just going to write what you say, okay?”

Crystal nodded. “So… I was at the game–”

“Which game?” Monique interrupted. “Sorry. You have to be as thorough as possible.”

“It’s okay. I was at the ring toss game today at like 2:30. This woman and her kid come up to play, and they lose, and she gets pi–…. Mad at me and starts yelling at me like the guests normally do. Maybe I could have been a little bit warmer with my responses… Whatever. Anyway. I asked if she wanted to talk to Brooke, and she said no, she’s going to HR. I told them where it was, since it’s kind of hidden, you know? I think she thought I was being cocky or something. Next thing I know, she spits in my face.”

“What do you mean, could have been warmer in your responses?”

Crystal sighed. “I don’t know. I was nice to her like I always am. But usually I listen more? I don’t know.”

“Did you say anything with malicious intent?”

“ What? No! I just… kind of wasn’t super into my responses.”

“What do you mean ‘into’?”

“I just kinda was monotone with it, I guess? Which, like, I know isn’t good, but I had a bad day and–” Crystal cut herself off as she felt tears forming. Brooke noticed immediately as she slipped her a Kleenex.

“We strive for excellent guest service here.”

“I know,” Crystal whined. “I just…”

“I think that she’s given you more than enough details, Ms. Hart,” Brooke said.

“Okay, okay. Can I just have you write everything you just told me?” She slid Crystal the stack of papers.

The sheer amount of paperwork was massive. There were so many spots to initial and sign that by the time she got to writing her statement, she felt like she couldn’t write anymore.

Monique rose. “I’ll leave you two to it. Just leave the statement when you’re done.”

“Crystal, hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. It’s a lot, but just write everything that happened. You don’t have to say that you weren’t as nice as you could be. I’m sure you were kind like you always are. Just write it as detailed as you can, okay?”  Brooke’s tone comforted Crystal as she began to write.

By the time Crystal finished writing her statement, she’d filled nearly all the lines on the paper. After signing her name one last time, she dramatically threw the pen down and stretched.

“Can we go back yet?” Crystal asked.

“Not quite yet,” Brooke said as she led Crystal to the back of the HR building.

“Why not?” she whined.

Wordlessly, Brooke led Crystal into a room she had to scan her badge to enter. The lights flickered a few times before coming in to reveal a breakroom that looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the park opened back in the eighties.

“You, my dear, need some ice cream.” Brooke went to the freezer and pulled out one of the overpriced ice cream bars that were sold to guests, which Crystal gratefully took.

“You’re the best,” Crystal said as she took a bite.

When she made it back to her game booth, Crystal was convinced her day was going to be better. If nothing else, she got to take a break for an hour and eat ice cream. It was going to be a good rest of the day, or so she thought.

On her second break, Crystal went into the restroom. As she locked the stall door, she heard a group enter. It was at least three people judging by the voices she could hear.

“Anyway yeah,” one of the voices began. “Gigi’s gotta hate her by this point. Those were some nice ass shoes she was wearing.”

“I thought they already hated each other? They never are with each other anymore. They were together so much,” a second voice said.

A third voice spoke up. “Yeah it was weird as fuck they were together so much you’d think they were dating or something.”

“I don’t know,” the second voice continued. “Either way, I’m glad Gigi’s not friends with her anymore. She’s annoying as fuck.”

“Right? The bitch doesn’t stop crying ever.” the first voice agreed. “Plus what’s up with her makeup? Sweetheart, the circus isn’t in town until next month.”

The other two laughed.

Of course her day wasn’t going to improve. Why would it? She knew that she shouldn’t let people’s words get to her. Crystal was used to being picked on for being eccentric. But with the day she’d already had, Crystal had enough.

Crystal forcefully slammed the stall door open. She didn’t even know the three girls, but vaguely recognized them as being in Dahlia’s gang. They were all standing in front of the sink fixing their makeup and hair. Crystal body checked one of the girls to get to the sink.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the girl jeered.

“Really? You’re going to talk all that shit about me and not even get the fuck out of my way? Next time you’ve got some shit to say, say it to my face, you cowards.”

When she got back from her break, she was visibly shaken. When Brooke made her rounds to check on everyone, she noticed just how upset Crystal looked. “Are you okay?”

Crystal shook her head.

“Today’s just not your day, is it, honey?”

“Nope.”

“Well,” Brooke began. “We’re overstaffed right now. Do you want to go home?”

This was music to Crystal’s ears. “Absolutely.”

“Go clock out. I’ll take care of it.”

In Crystal’s relief of leaving the hellhole that was work, she forgot all about meeting Gigi.

Gigi checked the time on her phone. It was 8:10. Five more minutes. She’d wait five minutes to see if Crystal would show. Gigi decided to not text Crystal, and decided that if she wanted to show up, she’d be there.

Five more minutes passed. As Gigi looked around The Boardwalk, there was no bright red hair to be seen. Maybe she just got held up. Gigi decided to give it another ten minutes, before giving up and defeatedly walking back to her Jeep.

Fuck you, Crystal.

Later that night, Gigi laid on her bed staring up at the ceiling wondering how she could let Crystal play with her emotions so much.

Just as she was about to wallow in her self-pity some more, her phone buzzed, notifying her that Jan was calling on Facetime.

“Hey, gorg!” Jan greeted, as she was lying in bed with Jackie.

“Hey guys,” Gigi said glumly.

“How’d it go?” Jackie asked.

“It… didn’t.”

Jan’s eyes widened. “She didn’t show up?”

Gigi shook her head as she felt herself starting to cry. “I’m so stupid.”

“Listen here, Gigi,” Jan began. “You are not stupid.”

“Did you text her?” Jackie asked.

“No, because I figured that if she really wanted to see me, I shouldn’t have to remind her,” Gigi explained. “But why do you think she didn’t want to see me?”

“I don’t know, Gigi,” Jan said. “Who knows what’s going on in that weird little brain of hers.”

Gigi plopped face down on her pillow as she screeched. “Fuck her. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, then it’s her loss. I don’t even care anymore.”

“You have to do what’s best for you,” Jackie said.

An alert informed Gigi she got a text. From Crystal.

“Fuck. It’s her,” Gigi squeaked.

“What did you say about not caring anymore?” Jan teased.

oh my god gigi i am so sorry you have no idea holy shit i had the worst day of my life. someone spit on me and i had to file a report and then these girls were talking about me and literally everything was terrible today to the point that my supervisor let me go home early and i came home and i fell right asleep and i just woke up like ten minutes ago and i feel terrible and you probably don’t want ot talk to me but oh my god gigi please im so sorry please please please talk to me

Gigi went back to the call as she reread the text. “And the impressive part is there was not a single punctuation mark in that entire text, and only one typo.”

“Wow,” Jackie said. “What are you going to do?”

“What should I do?”

Jan shrugged. “What do you think feels right?”

“I really still lo… like her a lot.  As a friend,” Gigi managed ro recover smoothly. “I don’t really want to ruin that.”

“Then tell her that,” Jan suggested.

Gigi carefully composed her response.

Wow that sounds…. terrible. Im really sorry that happened to you :(( I’m definitely still down to talk. Same place and time tomorrow?

Crystal texted back immediately.

ill be there.

After Jan hung up, she rested her head on Jackie.

“We’re good friends,” she said confidently.

“We are,” Jackie said as she kissed Jan’s cheek.

“I feel bad for them though.”

“I do too,” Jackie agreed.

“This feel selfish to say,” Jan began, “but even though they’re having a bad time, this is probably one of the best summers I’ve had in a while.”

Jackie smiled. “Do I have anything to do with that?”

“Baby, you have everything to do with it.” Jan snuggled closer to Jackie.

“Hey, Jan?” Jackie began nervously.

“Yes, Jackie?”

“I have to talk to you about something.”

Immediately, tears began to well in Jan’s eyes. “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“What? No!”

“Then what?” Jan was near hysterics.

“Jan… This has been the best summer I’ve had in a while, too. And you’re the reason for that. Every second we spend together is the happiest I’ve been in a very long time. I spent so much time in high school planning the next step, but when I’m with you I live in the moment. I stop worrying.”

Jan didn’t say anything, so Jackie continued. “I know that we had a rocky start, and every day I regret that. I just want you to know that I’m ready.”

Jan looked up at Jackie. “Ready for what?”

Jackie was fairly certain that Jan knew exactly what Jackie meant. “Jan. I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”

Jan remained silent.

“Jan?”

“Shh…” Jan closed her eyes and raised her hand in front of Jackie’s face.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Did you just shush me?”

“I want to remember this.”

“Remember… what?”

“I want to remember the second I became your girlfriend,” Jan said smiling.

“God, you’re dramatic, honey,” Jackie said rolling her eyes.

“You love it,” Jan teased.

The next day at work, Gigi couldn’t focus on anything. She desperately wanted for her shift to be over so that things could be right again.

Luckily for her, the park was busy since it was a weekend, and it had rained all day, so guests were taking shelter in the store which kept her busy. Gigi couldn’t sell overpriced plastic ponchos fast enough. She was so focused on meeting Crystal that a woman yelling at her for how cheaply made the ponchos were didn’t even register.

When it was time for Gigi to clock out, she couldn’t run fast enough. Quickly, she changed into whatever t-shirt and shorts she had in her work bag before making her way to The Boardwalk.

Gigi was surprised that she beat Crystal there, considering Crystal worked right next to the Ferris wheel. She tried to not think about it too much as she took a seat on a nearby bench. To pass the time, she anxiously bounced her knee up and down as she scrolled through social media. After what seemed like hours, she finally saw Crystal approach her.

Since it had just stopped raining and the outdoor rides had just started running again, there was no wait. As they stepped on the platform, Crystal said, “After you, my love.”

Gigi took a deep breath as she sat on the damp cabin of the Ferris wheel. Before Gigi could even fully sit down, words poured out of Crystal’s mouth so quickly she barely understood what she was saying.

“Gigi, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your shoes… I know they were your favorite. I’m so embarrassed.”

“They’re just a pair of shoes, Crystal. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Also, I’m really sorry that people are giving you such a hard time about it. Don’t listen to Dahlia or her little clique. They think they’re hot shit but everyone in Sales hates them. Even Jan won’t talk to them.”

“Damn. They must be bad considering that Jan would talk to a wall… Anyway, thanks Gigi. I’ll try. I don’t know what their problem is.”

Gigi shrugged and repeated, “Like I said, they think they’re hot shit.”

The two girls sat in an awkward silence as Gigi tapped her fingers against her thigh. Gigi hoped to God that Crystal would speak up before she did.

“About National Roller Coaster Day…” Crystal began. “Me going with Widow and Heidi instead of you guys wasn’t because I wanted to hurt your guys’ feelings or didn’t want to hang out with you. I miss you guys a lot. Anyway, I legitimately had no plans of going because Ryan was being needy. But, Widow showed up on my doorstep sobbing since her boyfriend broke up with her. I asked if going to the after-hours thing would cheer her up and she said it would. I made up some dumb excuse to Ryan and went with Widow and met up with Heidi. I was thinking about texting Jan that but I felt like it’d be weird to text her that, and I figured we wouldn’t run into each other, anyway.”

“And then we did.”

“And then we did,” Crystal sighed. “Gigi, please know there was no malicious intent with that one. I miss spending time with you.”

Gigi also sighed. “I miss our car rides.”

“No one else I know will listen to me sing One Direction the way you do.”

“I miss your coffee-making abilities,” Gigi admitted.

“We had some great times earlier in the season. But I had to go and ruin it. All of it.” Gigi didn’t say anything and let Crystal continue. “I should have never used any of what you told me against you. I don’t know why I did it.”

“You were pissed and said whatever came into your mind.”

Crystal sighed. “It’s still no excuse. I said some awful shit.”

“You did. I probably shouldn’t have insulted your boyfriend,” Gigi admitted.

Crystal sighed as tears formed in her eyes. “It’s… complicated.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Gigi said sympathetically as she looked at Crystal’s arm that had a bruise identical to the one Gigi found. “I know that you didn’t mean it. We all say stupid shit when we’re upset about stuff. Crystal, you don’t have a mean bone in your body. I hate seeing you this sad.”

“I feel like I’m such a bad person,” Crystal said, wiping her eyes.

“My mom told me this a while ago and it stuck. Crystal, bad people don’t think they’re bad people, and they sure as hell don’t try to become better people.”

“Your mom’s a smart lady.”

“She’s been through hell and back, that’s for sure.”

As the conversation dipped into another lull, the Ferris wheel reached the top. Admiring the cotton candy sky, Gigi thought long and hard about what she wanted to say next. She decided if she and Crystal were going to make their friendship work, everything had to be on the table.

Well, maybe not everything. Crystal didn’t have to know she was in love with her. But, Gigi figured Crystal should at least know the part of her she was hiding.

Slowly, the Ferris wheel reached the platform, and before Gigi could speak up, Crystal stepped out and held out her hand to help Gigi get out.

Shit.

[jeonsduck]

Smoke and Mirrors Pt 3

warnings: san says fuck

summary: *bad day by daniel powter plays* 

“Mrow.”

You groaned, cracking your eyes open. Your cat was squatting on your chest, meowing in your ear to wake you up.

“Ugh, Noodles, my alarm hasn’t even gone off, leave me alone.” you whine, trying to push your cat away. 

But he’s persistent, not letting you go back to sleep. He prods at your face with his paw and continues to yowl until you decide to get up. You huff and kick your legs before sitting up and throwing your covers off.

“Fine! Fine! I’m up! I’ll feed you, you monster!” you gripe, and as you get up from bed you catch sight of the little clock on your bedside table. 9:15 AM. Fuck. You’re over an hour late for work already. You hadn’t bothered to set your alarm when you got in from being interrogated last night, and you’d overslept.

The panic you feel is palpable as you turn your phone over and see it’s dead. Your supervisor is going to kill you.

You rush through getting ready at lightning speed and manage to get out the door in twenty-five minutes. You put your phone on charge in the car, and you speed to work as quickly as you dare, getting a ticket would only make you later than you already were. When your phone restarted, it began buzzing with a flurry of text messages and calls, angry from your supervisor, and worried from Jacob. Oh, you’re so dead.

You manage to rush into the office before half past ten, huffing a sigh of almost relief as you set your things down at your desk. Jacob shot you a worried look at your frazzled state and your supervisor was standing in the door of her office. 

“Y/N, let’s have a little chat?” she called, disappearing into her office.

You sighed and Jacob winced for you. You straightened your hair and outfit and said a little prayer before walking into the office, closing the door behind you.

“So, had an emergency this morning, did you?” she asked, sipping a cup of coffee.

“No, ma’am, I didn’t set my alarm the night before and I overslept…. I was up very late with FBI being cross-examined-” you began to explain and she slammed the mug down on her desk.

“So, it’s Agent Heejin’s fault you were two hours late for work this morning?” she asked.

You shook your head quickly.

“No, that’s my responsibility.” You responded and she nodded.

“Yes it is. It was also your responsibility to record yesterday’s meeting with Mr. Choi, but you failed to do that too. Which is why I’ve had administration shouting me down since this morning about the incompetence of my employees.” she seethes. 

“Coming in a few minutes late? It’s fine. Messing up a couple of details on a case? No big deal. But this is two hours late, while you’re working one of the most important cases this office has ever seen. You look like an incompetent fool. Not to mention letting Mr. Choi pay for your lunch.” she said, matter-of-factly.

“What’s wrong with letting San buy me lunch?” you asked.

“Letting ‘San’ buy you lunch is wrong because if his clients are found guilty, that could be seen as a bribe, and then we’ll be investigated as well. You thought last night with the FBI was rough? I hope you enjoy sleep deprivation. And I trust I don’t have to remind you to refer to your contact as Mr. Choi?” she was obviously more furious that you had asked that question. 

Maybe you should have just waited and asked Jacob.

“Sadly for me, fourtunately for you, the higher-ups still want you on this case, but if it were up to me, I wouldn’t just pull up from this job, I’d fire you on the spot. As it is, I’ll dock your pay for half a day and you’ll lose some paid leave as well. And maybe if you stay on your best behavior for the remainder of this job, I might not terminate you once you’re done.” 

She shooed you away after that, letting you know that San was trying to contact you about the files you’d asked for the day before. You went back to your desk, where you started going over your notes of San’s clients to distract yourself. You had messed up, and yes, you deserved to be disciplined. You weren’t even that hurt about it. 

Regardless, your notes ended up with a spattering of angry teardrops on the pages of your notes. God, what were you crying for? Jacob offered you his tissue box and a sad look.

“Shut up, Jacob, I’m not in the mood.” you griped and he held his hands up in surrender.

Ugh, you hadn’t meant to snap at him too. Maybe if you hadn’t showed up for work two hours late, you could have gone and hid in the bathroom until you felt better. Sadly, you had to stick it out in your cubicle while your coworkers walked around like the office floor was a minefield. When your phone rang suddenly, you jumped at the noise and sniffled, quickly answering it.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N! Hey, it’s San!” San said, sounding way more cheerful than you felt he had the right to be. 

“Oh, hello Mr. Choi.” you greeted, remembering to talk more formally.

“Y/N, we went over this yesterday at lunch. Please, call me San, Mr. Choi is my father.” he sighed.

“My supervisor has reminded me its unprofessional to call you by your first name while I’m working your case.” you replied. 

Thank God her office door was closed.

“Well, your supervisor can get fucked. Call me, San.” he said, and you barely held in your snort.

“Fine, San. You got my files?” you asked. 

“Yes, I do! A whole box of them. The electronic ones are all on a USB, but you wanted original documents and well, as you know, my clients have no small amount of assets.” He said.

“Oh, I’m quite aware. I can come by and pick them up-”

“Oh no need for that! I was already leaving the office today so we’ll swing by your place and drop them off. You wouldn’t happen to be free for a late lunch today would you?” San asked.

You sighed. Lunch with San sounded kind of nice. Way better than the lunch break your were expecting to have today.

“Sorry. My supervisor has also alerted me that you buying me lunch qualifies as a bribe.” you rejected.

“Seriously? Why’s your boss such a buzzkill?” San sounded reasonably upset.

“Anyway, I’m almost there, so come on down, I’ll see you in a minute.” he said and hung up.

You made your way over to the elevators, too caught up in your own head to realize that San had called you on your cell phone, not your work line. You didn’t remember giving him the number, but you suppose you could have done it and forgotten about it. Your supervisor would probably blow her top if she found out. 

You also couldn’t recall telling San the address of your office, or that you worked on an upper floor, but he could have found that from Google. Maybe. Or maybe you mentioned that at lunch or in a phone call or in an email. You were too stressed out to really care, you probably just forgot a few details of your conversations. “Y/N, over here.” 

You looked over to where San was standing, a printer paper box in his arms and a hard shell backpack on his back. He was dressed less wildly than he had been the day before, but his shirt was still purple and leopard print, as were his pants, but they were grey in color. He set the box down when he saw you, taking in your red eyes and slightly dishevelled appearance.

“Are you okay? You look upset.” he asks.

“S’nothing. I overslept and ended up being super late for work and I was supposed to record the meeting we had yesterday, and my boss ,like, just got done ripping me a new one.” you said with a shrug.

“Did you cry?” he asked.

You flushed, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Is it that obvious?” 

“No, but if you overslept your eyes wouldn’t be that red unless you cried.” he said.

“Yeah well, its whatever. Thanks for dropping these off.” you said, reaching for the box.

“Wait!” San said, handing the box back to one of his guards.

He walked over to a bench and sat down, beckoning you over. He carefully slid his backpack off and into his lap. The backpack had a bubble window and inside you could see a Siamese cat looking out.

“This is Byul. We’re going to the vet for a check up.” he says, unzipping the backpack and taking the cat out. 

In the middle of the lobby of your place of work. But Byul meows cutely, obviously confused because this is NOT her home, but it’s also not the vet. San hands her to you and you cradle her in your arms for a second, letting some of your stress melt away. 

“Take a break. Pet the cat. You can go back up there and tackle that box of paperwork after you’ve destressed for a second, yeah?” he says, patting Byul on the head.

She meows, but in a good way.

“She’s so sweet.” You commented as San watched you pet his cat. 

You sat on the bench until it looked like Byul was getting a bit too comfortable. San put her back in the backpack, which was met with some protests.

“My guys went ahead and took the box upstairs. If you need anything else, just call me. Good luck.” he said, heading out the door. 

“Oh, and by the way, your boss sucks.” he added. 

You watched as one of the guards opened the car door for him, standing in the lobby until they drove away. Then you took a deep breath and headed back upstairs. 

Two hours into the financial records of Kim Hongjoong and you felt like you were going to tear your hair out. You could see why he looked so suspicious. He owned 51% of growing fashion houses, meaning he effectively owned the entire business. But as soon as the brand started to get some recognition and traction he jumped ship and sold all his stocks. Which often times meant he profited from the growth and bailed before taxes were due to be paid, taking huge profits and leaving other investors to handle any hits the brand might take. Not to mention his investments were routed through an investment firm that he also owned and it’s clothing company subsidiary. Basically, it was just shell company after shell company. That wasn’t all. He had money squirreled away in the Cayman Islands and Swiss bank accounts. He had tax exemptions donations, farming, industry. He even claimed Jongho as a dependent! Hongjoong had utilized tax loopholes to the full extent of the law. And while everything you’d reviewed so far was legal, it was highly suspicious. It was interesting how criminals and the bourgeoisie utilized the same methods to protect their empires. 

And even with the documents you’d asked San for, there were still holes. Not just for hundreds or thousands, but millions of dollars. You couldn’t even move on to the others until you could paint a full picture of how Honjoong’s money moved. 

Ugh, even thinking about the other six made your head ache. Their assets were so intertwined with each other, you felt like you were watching yourself walk around in circles.  

When you finished for the day, you felt no closer to understanding the big picture than when you started. You shot San an email about some more information on Hongjoong and left the office.

The next morning, your supervisor didn’t show up for work. Not good for you, because San was asking you over to his offices instead of having the both of you running back and forth across town to exchange notes.

“Just let your FBI contact know and go. If she comes in I’ll tell her I told you to go.” Jacob said, nudging you towards the door.

Heejin didn’t ask you to record, but she did ask you to report anything that seemed suspicious, and she’d follow up with you every other day with questions. It sounded like a plan to you. You gathered your thick binder of notes and your box of files and headed over to San’s offices.

The place was… different than you had expected. You had been looking for a sleek and modern corporate building, but San’s office was in a commercial suite. He didn’t run a firm, he was the sole accountant for all of his clients. That was insane.

  His secretary sat in the front room, a woman with short blue hair and an intricate tattoo winding up her arm.

“Are you Y/N?” she asked.

“Yes, you’re Jasmine?” you confirmed, but she shook her head.

“No, I’m Keran. Jasmine got transferred last week.” she said. 

Before you could ask what transferred meant, San came out the back door, Byul weaving between his feet. He brought his cat to work?

“Y/N! Great you’re here. We don’t have a lot of space here, but I had the guys set you up a desk in the file room, so everything is there is you need any forms or anything. But if you get too claustrophobic in there, we can move you to the breakroom or something.

“Oh, I be fine in the file room. Thanks again for letting me set up here.” you said as San lead you down a narrow hallway.

“Oh don’t mention it! The bathroom is the second door on the left and feel free to call if you need anything, or Byul won’t move off of your laptop.” he said with a smile.

At the sound of her name, Byul meowed. You and San both chuckled and you leaned down to scratch her on the head. She headbutted your leg and San happily watched you play with his cat.

Working in the file room was way easier. If you were missing a form you could get it yourself, San was extremely organized. He was also nice enough to bring you coffee from time to time. Really, he was such an angel.

The next day your boss wasn’t back, and after checking in with Heejin and Jacob you went back to San’s to continue working. And she still wasn’t back the day after that. On the fourth day her family reported here missing. After her leave ran out, the administration appointed a new supervisor for your department. He confirmed you to work from San’s offices for the duration of the case, meaning you didn’t have to check in at the office everyday before heading over to his building. 

You never did see that first supervisor again. No one did. You wondered what had happened to her, and you still didn’t know, even now. But something told you you didn’t want to know where she was.

[sheadre]

Good Enough (Eric Coulter x Reader) Part One

Summary: Reader is tasked to be the instructor of the new initiates to Dauntless and Eric is her supervisor. They never calculated falling in love into their future and when things turn for the worse, will they accept their fate?

Word count: 3123

Warning: angst

The sky was a bright blue as you sat on the floor of the train. It was a late summer day in Chicago but you still wore black pants with laced boots and a dark grey tank top. Your arms were muscular but just the right amount to look fit and not a body builder. You had your knives on your belt and right thigh along with your gun.

Your (h/c) hair was pulled back from your face by your temples but was let out on your back. You inhaled deeply smelling the difference from the city which was filled with people and vehicles. This, the smell of nature was familiar to you and a small smile appeared on your face. Back when you chose Dauntless you knew that the only thing you will miss from being Amity was the nature. You looked at the scars on your wrists that reminded you of why you chose to leave your faction and become stronger and independent. There were quite a few on your back from your mother’s abusive behavior. She always made you responsible for your father’s departure. He left when you were little and married another woman, had three kids and a happy family life. You hated him and hated your mother. However, those days were over and now you had a new family of friends here in Dauntless. But not Eric.

Oh, Eric. He looked so good but was such an asshole most of the time that you avoided him at all costs. Luck was unfortunately not on your side these days though. Max assigned you with Eric to go to Amity and help the farmers move their goods from one place to the other. You could see the annoyance on the brunette’s face, his icy blue eyes glaring a hole through you during the meeting. Not that it was you, he despised so much, it was just the fact that he had to work with someone else. You looked up at him in the train and noticed him eying you. You lifted an eyebrow at him in question making him smirk.

‘You have some porridge on the corner of your mouth’ he noted making you quickly wipe your mouth but there was nothing.

‘Rude’ you stuck your tongue out at him childishly.

‘Real mature’ he rolled his eyes but still smirked.

‘You know, you look less like a gorilla when you smile’ you said standing up because your destination was nearing.

‘And you look less stupid when I don’t see your face’ he replied making you furious. He was a real asshole but you just sighed with a ‘whatever’ leaving your lips before jumping off of the train and started trudging forward to the truck and the farmers waiting for you.

Amity were easily scared and they were skittish around factionless people. That’s why you needed to be here. You and Eric helped them pack grain and hay onto the trucks until the sky turned grey then darker and darker. You went to check the place one last time when you spotted two factionless children lurking around the barn. You went after them and grabbed the girl by her arm making her cry out in panic but was quieted by your hand on her mouth.

‘Ssshhhh…’ you chided. ‘How many do you need?’

Your question shocked them and left them speechless making you roll your eyes and asking them again a little more insistent.

‘Four portions for the others’ the boy replied who had big green eyes with messy red hair. You opened the door of the barn and quickly gave them two large sack of food. They were filled with flour, potato, carrots and some peas. It was worth eight portions and Erudite could live on without eight portions. The most food went there and the best of that too. These children needed the food and you weren’t letting them starve if you can help it.

‘What the hell are you doing, (L/N)?’ Eric’s strict deep voice interrupted you as you closed the barn’s door. You quickly turned around to face him with a sheepish smile.

‘Nothing’ you replied.

‘That is nothing, huh?’ he pointed at the two kids standing there scared out of their shoes making you groan. They should’ve scurried off when you gave them the sacks.

‘They need it, Eric… More than Erudite’ you furrowed your eyebrows.

‘Get back to the truck’ he motioned with his head toward the trucks as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

‘No-‘

‘You’re still not in a position to disobey me, (L/N)!’ he raised his voice. You looked at the children worried but nodded tensely and left the scene. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you waited for Eric who emerged from the back of the barn ten minutes later. You glared at him, your muscles so tense that if he said one word, you would jump at him.

‘If anyone else would’ve been assigned to you, you would be finding yourself in much trouble’ Eric said as he sat next to you on the truck nodding to the farmer who drove. The way back to Dauntless was quiet and you were both angry and worried. You knew how cruel Eric could be but they were just children and they were clearly starving.

You went straight to your shared apartment with Cher and buried yourself in a book to calm yourself down a little. You were angry with yourself that you got caught in crime and that Eric would report it.

You stood in Max’s office with a gaping mouth when the leader showed you Eric’s report. The bastard wrote a report that was detailing how excellent you were and how good you handled everything without his help. Not a single word about the children. You blushed from all the praise but you chided yourself. He only wrote these to get rid of you. He must think that if Max sees this, he will send you on missions with someone higher ranked or alone. You gave your report which was a much more boring one to Max and left his office.

You had nothing to do today as you got a day off so you decided to do something you loved to do: bake. You mixed the ingredients and the cupcakes were baking in your oven. It smelled heavenly drawing Cher out of her bedroom.

‘You know I love you, right?’ she asked you with a cheeky smile making you laugh.

‘I will design one just for you, Cher’ you replied chuckling.

‘Why are you baking anyway?... wait something good happened!’ she exclaimed. Her plush lips parted in an “o” as her brown eyes widened. ‘Does it have to do anything with Mr. Scary Coulter?’

Cher was always teasing you for staring at Eric when you were training at the same time in the gym. You were just keeping an eye on him… were you? No, you definitely just kept an eye on him to keep your distance. Even if it was hard not to look at him with those abs and biceps bulging as he was training with someone. You only noticed Cher’s sneaky expression with the knowing smirk when you snapped back from your daydream.

‘He just didn’t rat me out to Max about yesterday’ you replied turning around as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. Cher just laughed and approached you draping an arm over your shoulders.

‘(Name), (Name), (Name)… we both know that you have the hugest crush on him and you can’t even deny it’ she said making you groan.

‘That’s it! I had enough of you! You won’t get a single cupcake!’ you said as you went to the oven to check on the cupcakes. As you decorated them with buttercream and things you kept thinking about Eric. To be honest, you knew you liked him but only when he wasn’t an asshole. He could be nice if he wanted to but he wasn’t. You knew it was an act when there were people around him but he let his guard down a few times around you somehow. It made you feel special but then he put his guard up again and acted like the asshole he was usually.

The cupcake you designed for him had blue buttercream and chocolate chips on it and inside the dough was chocolate. You put it in a small paper bag which was closed by a black ribbon on top. You attached a few words letter and hurried out of your apartment. You went two corridors down and knocked on Eric’s door (you knew which was his because you had to give him reports a few times before) and hurried out of sight. You saw the door open and Eric look out checking the hallway before noticing your small offer on his doormat.

You watched in wonder as a genuine full smile appeared on his face which made your heart speed up in your chest. He was so handsome if he smiled instead of scowling.

Eric’s POV:

The brunette sat on a stool by his kitchen counter and carefully opened the small paper bag. It smelled heavenly and looked just as heavenly as he lifted the cupcake from its holder. He read the small letter attached with a smile on his face.

Next time I will be more careful, thank you for having my back

(Name)~

Eric bit into the sweet and sighed satisfied. Just as he remembered. (Name) rarely baked because of the lack of time she had on her hands but the few times she did, Eric found some baked goodness on his doormat. At first, she didn’t sign it and he caught her leaving the hallway not quickly enough. Later, she started leaving small letters with the offerings. Eric stood up and went to his fridge securing the new letter to it with a fridge magnet.

He couldn’t understand how she was able to get to him but she did. He couldn’t help but watched her train when they were in the gym at the same time. Her long (h/c) hair up high on her head in a tight ponytail, her shoulders and arms bare in her black tank top as she spared with one of her friends. Her narrow waist twisting with the movements and a bead of sweat disappearing in the valley of her breasts. Eric sighed his chest tightening. Why would someone like her want someone like him? He was a monster to others, an untamed beast that was about to rip other’s heads off the second they said something he didn’t like. But he didn’t want to be the weak Erudite kid he once was.

His fingers brushed the notes one last time before he went back to his work.

Your POV:

Almost a week passed since you gave Eric that cupcake but those feelings kept bubbling in your chest. During training you kept getting distracted by his sculpted torso and how he helped the new members with certain moves. It was certain that he has changed. He was only yelling at others during training before, but now he was instructing them as he should. Four was frowning at it in confusion but told you to stay focused on your training with him.

You apologized and went back to work with him. Four was strong but he was a good tactician making it hard to find an opening. You were on your back quickly panting heavily.

‘You’re losing focus, (Name)’ Four said. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah… I’m fine’ you groaned.

‘I’m not talking about your body’ he said. ‘I was talking about your mind.’

‘It’s just… I… I can’t figure him out’ you nodded towards Eric.

‘That report was strange, yeah’ Four said eying Eric. ‘I don’t know what he’s planning but be careful.’

‘I’m not a threat to his position, Four. It would be suspicious if the report would be about you but it was about me.’ you replied crossing your arms.

‘Then he sees something in you’ your friend said. ‘You are good, you finished at the tops last year and Max already trusted you with many high ranked missions.’

‘Or our fearless, scary leader decided to confess his love for our (Name)’ Cher jumped on you from behind. You rolled your eyes as she squeezed your cheeks making you groan. Four chuckled at your antics which was rare and said goodbye to you telling you he had a meeting. You turned to Cher with an annoyed glare and crossed your arms.

‘Why would he love me, Cher? There’s nothing exceptional about me, I’m just… I’m just me’ you gestured over your figure.

‘And if he likes you? You should take your chance, sweetie!’ she replied trying to convince you but you shook your head.

‘I don’t want to get rejected yet again… I had too many of that already’ you sighed running a hand through your hair as you brushed past her and headed out the gym. You needed air and your hiding place became the small backyard you found and planted flowers there when you had time. Not that you had much of that, but whenever you could, you took your mind off of things with taking care of your secret garden in the middle of Dauntless.

You closed the sack of soil as you finished with exchanging the old soil with the new one so the roses got some fresh minerals. You sat back on your heels as you wiped the back of your hand across your forehead with a sigh. There was no way he would notice you. You were nothing special, just one of the faces in the crowd. No one ever looked at you as more than just a friend or as girlfriend material. You wished you would know how the touch of another’s felt. Their warmth as they embrace you, their soft whispers in your ear and their lips on yours. You missed all these yet you had no idea how it felt to be touched… how it felt to be loved. You sighed again with a sad smile playing on your lips and looked up at the blue sky above.

‘It’s pretty amazing how you managed to hide this place’ his familiar deep voice hit you like a tidal wave, your eyes widening. Your head snapped to him.

‘W-what are you doing here?!’ you asked shocked as you scrambled to your feet and quickly started packing up things to put them away. You didn’t notice him walking up to you, only his touch on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

‘You looked like you needed someone who would just listen’ Eric said.

‘There’s just a lot going on my mind… you must have better things to do’ you said with a small smile.

‘I wouldn’t be here’ he replied furrowing his eyebrows making you avert your gaze. ‘So tell me… is it Four?’

‘What?’ you looked back up confused and completely dumb founded.

‘You like Four but he doesn’t feel the same way, right?’ Eric asked a little annoyed.

‘No… ewww, no way’ you cringed. ‘And I would never fall for someone like Four. He’s… he’s just not my type… and why would a guy like him want anything from me? I mean… look at me, I’m just like everyone else… average.’ you shrugged pulling away from his touch and putting the sack of soil back to its place by the wall.

‘You’re not average, (Name)’ Eric crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘At least I don’t think you are.’

‘Then what am I?’ you asked back curious. Your chest was hurting at that question and you wished you hadn’t asked but you needed to know. You didn’t really understand these feelings you were having for Eric and maybe hope wouldn’t be such a good thing for your fragile heart.

‘The strongest I’ve ever met.’ Eric’s deep voice replied as he averted his gaze. ‘You’re incredible both on the battlefield and psychologically. I don’t think many people would be able to think straight with two bullets in their shoulder and thigh.’

‘Yeah, I got shot during Capture the Flag, not in a real fight’ you snorted.

‘Still… you’re incredible’ he breathed and when you looked back up at him you noticed how close the two of you were. You could smell his fresh mint scented shampoo and his own scent. It was mesmerizing, rooting your legs to the spot. Your (e/c) eyes darted down to his lips before quickly jumping back to his blue eyes which looked through you with that piercing gaze.

Suddenly a loud ringing interrupted the two of you signaling for everyone that the new Initiates are soon arriving. You and Eric were tasked to train them, him being your instructor and you being placed in the position to train the new ones because Eric got a promotion to a higher ranked job. The two of you hurried in silence up to the rooftop where they would jump down into the net. You remembered how scared yet how excited you were as you jumped.

The first day was long introducing them to all the places and things. You smiled when they were picked up by the old members and hoped they would find their places here just like you did. Cher convinced you to have a drink with her so you reluctantly but went down to the bar and asked for a beer. It was cold making you sigh when you gulped down the first sip.

‘Have you confessed your love to him already?! Four, Jane and I were making bets on it and I want me some money’ Cher poked you with her index finger making you shake your head.

‘You guys are ridiculous’ you sighed and took another sip. Your eyes scanned the crowd lazily as you thought about a few hours earlier. You needed to stop feeling this way. You would never be good enough for him. You weren’t tall, skinny with blonde hair that reached your backside… just like the girl Eric was talking to all smiles, his hand on her lower back. Cher grabbed your upper arm with a worried expression.

‘(Name), they’re not-‘

‘See, I told you’ you smiled bitterly. ‘I could never catch the eyes of someone like him.’

[spnsimpleman]

With a wink and a smile.

Part two of Anon request series- Unknown gang daughter.  

With the strike of a match Part one of the series- read this first! 

Dean x unknown Daughter, Sam x unknown niece, badass!winchester Reader- is this a thing? Because it should be.

Word Count: 2195

Way down we go- Kaleo

Dean glared at the flickering light over the front door of the police station as he walked up the crumbling front stairs. Sam beat him to the door and held it open watching his brother scan everything with the same frown he gave the stairs. 

“Certainly not up to code, right? No way that can be safe.”

Sam’s brow rose but Dean didn’t seem to need a response as he strode toward the front desk where the only officer in the room stood with his head down writing on something. They pulled out their badges before reaching the desk clerk but the officer didn’t look up from the form in front of him. 

Dean thrust his badge onto the form, shoving the officer’s pen off the page. “Agents Collins and Gabriel. We need to speak to the officer who put out the APB on the suspected arson from yesterday,” Dean practically growled and Sam glanced at him.

The officer’s frown only deepened while glancing at the two badges, “I don’t believe we called in the feds.”

Sam opened his mouth to bring the hostility down a notch but Dean was already racing ahead, “what did you think would happen when someone in your department tacks on one of our most wanted members on that APB, huh, officer…” Dean leaned forward and squinted at the nameplate on his chest, “Simmons?”

The officer pulled back, his confusion hidden quickly behind a mask of indifference, “Detective Briggs can help you. Gutierrez already went home for the night.” He stepped back, turned, and walked through a door behind him.

Dean didn’t bother to wait, going around the desk and heading for the door once it swung shut. Sam grabbed his arm, “we want them to cooperate, what is up with you?”

“What? You’re the one who said this kid needed our help.”

Sam’s brow shot up, “and pissing these people off is going to help?”

Dean sighed, “I’m tired and I want to get this over with. This kid is not going to want anything to do with us and I don’t know what the hell you want me to do.”

Sam looked up at the ceiling, his jaw clenching for a moment before he looked back to his brother. “Take it down a notch and let’s see if we can actually get some real information from these people. At least, see if this girl is just being pigeoned holed or if it’s something else? Is that too hard for you?”

Dean scoffed, stepping toward the door again but froze when it opened and a female detective walked out in a wrinkled pantsuit that flattered not only her dark skin but also her figure. She glanced between the two of them lacking the attitude the desk officer held and Dean grinned. She gave them a tired smile and held out her hand, “Collins and Gabriel?” Dean shook her hand and Sam followed, “sorry fellas, but she was just released. I wasn’t aware there was a high-level target on the girl’s record.”

Sam coughed, “well, not quite a high level, but we get notified when things like that pop. We were in the area so our supervisor wanted us to check it out.”

“I thought all her guardians were deceased, well, besides the foster home she fled?”

“Those Winchesters have surprised us before. Could be relatives to this girl, can never be too sure,” Dean smiled and relaxed, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Sam kept his annoyance under his false smile, “anyway, what are your thoughts on this girl? She’s got quite the record.”

She looked at Dean first then Sam before sighing and crossing her arms over her chest, “honestly, I think the APB was thrown out a little quick on this. My personal belief is that girl might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that’s what happens when things get too close to a certain part of town and there’s any kind of tie to one of the gangs. I’m sure you know how it is in cities like this. Overworked and underpaid but the city still wants quick results when it comes too close to a certain side of town.”

Dean nodded with raised brows, “oh, we know.” She chuckled and Sam rolled his eyes.

Sam tried to give Dean a cool it look but his brother didn’t take his eyes off the detective, “Detective Briggs, do you mind if I ask how long you’ve worked here?”

She tore her gaze away from Dean and gave Sam a small nod, “I transferred two years ago. The chief has been trying to pull in new officers for the past five years. Ever since the budget cuts started. He thought getting some fresh eyes in here might help with these kinds of things. You get officers that jump the gun and just want to get some of the cases closed and out of the way.”

“And that’s what you think happened here?”

She glanced over her shoulder and thought for a moment before meeting his gaze again, “some of these street kids just need an advocate, you know? The young ones are told to take the fall for something so the real aggressors aren’t taken out of the game and youngin’s don’t get as much time but that kinda thing stays with them. The gangs don’t care and these kids fall through the cracks. Was that girl in the area of that fire? Yes. The ash was all over her. Was she the one who started it? I don’t know but I can guarantee you this wasn’t her idea. She sat there for hours and I didn’t see a guilty kid, I saw a girl who’s been blamed for things so many times she’s just waiting to be charged and done with it. My partner didn’t feel the same and tried to get her to pin it on her boss. I’m not a fan of sending a kid in to do a cop’s job.”

“She’s twenty years old,” Dean said, his disbelief clear.

“Did you know exactly who you were at twenty years old? This girl has been in foster care since she was twelve and on the streets since she was sixteen. She’s been pushed around by who knows how many people who were supposed to take care of her.”

“You seem pretty intent on protecting this girl,” Sam wondered aloud.

She searched Sam’s face for something and then nodded, satisfied at whatever it was she found, “I believe in innocent until proven guilty. I grew up in a city like this not too far from here where that wasn’t the case with most. I also take the time to look deeper before I slap a charge on a kid. She got her first arrest less than a year after being shuffled into this side of the city before then she was an ace student living with her mother and stepfather without a single issue on her record. But that’s just me.”

She walked around Dean and leaned back against the desk, “my partner, on the other hand, thinks she’s an ace student that turned into a criminal mastermind. He’s been around longer and has arrested her before. The gangs do like to get them young and train them to be exactly what they want them to be.” She shrugged, “either one of us could be right.”

Sam caught Dean’s frown at the same time his phone vibrated in his pocket. He gave the detective a nod, “thank you for your time, Detective Briggs.”

She smiled and turned to Dean who held out his hand to shake hers again. Sam walked away and had already gotten back to the car, pulled out his laptop, and turned it on by the time Dean made it outside.

Dean looked over at the screen, “what is it?”

“Thanks to Charlie, I’m looking at your daughter’s arrests. We’re going to check out some of these spots and see if we can find her.”

Dean was looking around with wide eyes, “you wanna keep that down. Sheri seems to have a damn good handle on the whole protecting the innocent thing.”

Sam paused and turned to his brother, “Sheri?”

“What?” He smirked, “she also said she’d keep us up to date on the case.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to his laptop, “we’re splitting these up and we’re going to talk to her before we leave. A few of these places they arrested her for loitering. Probably hoping to catch her on possession or distribution but she’s smart even if she was running with the wrong crowd.”

Dean snorted, “like we’re the right crowd?”

“Better than this.” He waved at the screen filled with her arrest records.

Dean shook his head, “whatever you say, Sammy. Let’s get this over with, I’m starving.”

~~

Dean walked down dirty streets glancing into alleyways as he passed trying to imagine a girl from a good home being thrown out here. What if he and Sammy lost everything in the fire and got thrown into a place like this? He always felt more at ease hunting than trying to do the normal thing. Wouldn’t be that far of a stretch to imagine doing the same things with a gang. Except for drugs and killing people.

He shook his head. What did he know? Maybe he’d see other people as monsters if he grew up around crazy adults that taught him to see it that way.

Who the hell was he to judge anybody?

A dark-skinned boy glared at him from a relaxed stance against a light pole up ahead. The kid couldn’t be older than sixteen. Dean nodded as he passed him.

The kid sneered, “keep moving, old man.”

He shook his head and continued forward. That kid was too young to be out here but Sheri’s words played again in his head. He imagined the girl from the APB picture leaning there, doing the same thing. That girl wouldn’t want anything to do with him. What the hell was he supposed to say?

Hey, I’m the dude from that arrest record. The one they tacked on to make you appear worse. Sorry. Life sucks, right?

He shook the image away and cursed himself for allowing Sam to guilt trip him. Familiar sounds of a scuffle came from the next alley up and he slowed down until he stopped in the mouth of it.

A big guy on top of a girl on the ground, obviously trying to pull at her pants. Dean stepped into the alley, the shout on the tip of his tongue when he froze. She lashed out and moved away so fast, the man’s cry easy to assume she used more than just her fist. Words were exchanged but he couldn’t hear them, he moved further into the alley then the man was jumping on her again but his shriek this time is louder. The man fumbled back and she said something he couldn’t hear over the adrenaline rushing through him.

She turned toward him and started walking.

“That’s right! Walk away, bitch,” the man on the ground shouted.

“What a dumbass,” Dean murmured but still didn’t make a move. She was facing him but he wasn’t sure she could see him. Not with all these burned out lights and nothing but some murky light coming from the other end of the alley.

She turned and moved back to the guy on the ground speaking low enough again that he couldn’t make out the words. She stomped her foot and swung her leg at him but it didn’t look like her foot connected. The guy howled but something was wrong about it.

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine.

She turned and walked away from the guy, nothing stopping her this time.

As she closed in on Dean, some of the light coming from a window smudged with dirt and grease from his side of the alley bathed her face and he stiffened. She looked him up and down, a scowl quickly covered by nonchalance. “Don’t stare, old man. It’s not polite.” Then with a smirk, she winked, “oh and pro tip, around here that’ll get you gutted.”

She sauntered away and Dean pulled out his phone, stabbed the speed dial number he needed, and brought it to his ear as he turned around and stepped out of the alley and onto the sidewalk.

“You find anything?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, and I don’t think that picture idea is a good one anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Flashing her picture… you were right. Maybe not because of…”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t think she needs our help, Sammy. This… woman can take care of herself.”

“That doesn’t mean she has to. I’m not leaving here until we talk to her.”

Dean glanced down the street and caught a glimpse of her under a barely surviving street light. “I might be able to follow her. Head down towards fifteenth. She’s passing a flickering light post on twelfth now. I’ll text any changes in direction.”

Part Three- With a flick of my blade.

Taglist: I see you! @thefaithfulwriter , @dalia-artistik , @justkending

[your-modern-shakespeare]

A Little Too Real (12)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 4.5, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 7.5, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 10.5, Part 11, Part 11.5

Summary: RealityTV!AU- You are a wardrobe supervisor for a popular TV network. The show is planning a reality TV show like the bachelor and Bucky is the newest contestant. But as the competition starts he realizes that he doesn’t like any of the girls…on the show anyway.

Pairing : Bucky x Reader (eventual)

Word Count: 10,375 (ish)

A/N: So I’m excited to finally get something out after my terrible bout of writer’s block. We should only have one or two parts left of this fic and then it will all be over :( But I hope that you guys are still with me and I’m sorry for the ridiculous wait. Love you guys and enjoy!

Warnings: kissing, mentions of sexy times, google translate, talk of depression (non-descriptive), break-up talk, I’m not sure what else

BUCKY’S POV

Week 9

Monday

“Guys! I don’t have anything I want to say!” I said to Steve and Peggy. Ever since I got back to LA, I’ve been getting non-stop calls from these two and when that wasn’t enough they decided that an impromptu visit would get them the answers they wanted. I had managed to avoid them all weekend, but on Monday I was not so fortunate.

“Something happened in Moscow and now Y/N is ignoring us. What did you do to her?” Peggy said.

“I—There’s—I can’t talk about what happened.”

“Then that means that something really bad happened.”

“Something bad did happen, but it’s not anything I can talk about.”

“Bucky you have always been able to talk to me, why is it different now?” Steve asked.

“It’s different because it has to do with Y/N. You guys know me better than anyone. And so you know that I would tell you what was happening if I could.”

“He does have a point there.”

“Well that’s not good enough for me. She called me and told me about you finally asking her out and then you plan literally the most perfect date, not to mention that I know what that dress looked like on her. And all of the sudden the two of you aren’t speaking to each other. How does it get to that stage?”

“Like I said...I wish I could tell you. I miss Y/N every single second of the day and there’s never a time where she’s not on my mind. I love her, but I have a reason for what I did and I wouldn’t have done what I did if it wasn’t important. Everything I do is for her.”

“If you could just tell us what’s happening—”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. And I would love to talk about this more but I need to go to work.”

“Bucky we just want to help.” Steve tried one last time.

“I know you do. This is...this is hard on me too. And I can’t talk about it, which makes it harder. I want more than anything to go and tell her what’s happening, but right this second I can’t do anything. I just need to finish the show so this can all be over and I can focus on her.”

I walked out the door then, knowing that those two would lock up when they left. I drove to work, thinking about Y/N and what I did. I’m sure there was a better way to do what I did, something that made more sense. But everything that I did was to protect her and that was my only priority at the moment.

Monday...first day of filming.

T-minus 11 days until I can see Y/N again.

Y/N’S POV

Monday

Being back in LA was not as comforting as I thought it would be. Of course, it didn’t help that I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone or tell anyone what happened, so instead I just ignored everyone and sat in my apartment alone until Monday came around.

And then I had to go to work.

But I couldn’t see him again, so I had to use, for the first time ever, a favor that I had with the one person who probably hated me the most right now.

Y/N: I’m cashing in my no-questions-asked favor

WM: Well I’m glad to see you’re alive. You know, we’ve all been worried sick about you and you can’t even tell us that you got back or that you’re home or apparently anything.

Y/N: The favor?

WM: I regret ever giving you that

Y/N: I need you to take over the dating show

WM: The dating show?

Y/N: That was a question

WM: Unintentionally

Y/N: I need you to do this

WM: Of course I will, but if you think that you can just ask me to take over Bucky’s show and not give me a reason then you’re crazy. 

Just reading his name made my heart leap

Y/N: You’re not getting a reason from me, that’s why I’m calling in the no-questions-asked favor instead of the regular favor

WM: How many favors do I owe you?

Y/N: More than you think

WM: I’m worried about you

Y/N: I’ll be fine

So that day, instead of going on the road with the rest of the crew, I went and hid away in the wardrobe room, trying my best to get everything organized and set up for once “the dating show” was done. Wanda was at the house filming when I left for the day so, I ignored another call from Peggy, I sat and ate dinner, alone, and went to bed early, crying myself to sleep...again.

Tuesday

I got into the wardrobe room early and unluckily for me Wanda was there waiting.

“I need an explanation.”

“And I need a break.”

“Y/N, I can see that something is wrong.”

“Well your eyes are working.” I went over to my table and started to clean up.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She just glared at me. “Nothing I want to talk about.”

“What did he do?”

“Who?”

“Bucky.”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“You know, He looks just as miserable as you do.”

“Good.” I mumbled under my breath, knowing for sure that she didn’t hear me.

“Then what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” I said way too quickly and way too aggressively.

“So he did do something.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because things are already hard enough! I don’t need constant texts and calls from you and Peggy! I’m not fine that’s all you need to know!” She looked at me and could definitely see that I wasn’t okay.

“I know that I don’t know what exactly you’re going through but you know I’m here for you, right? This doesn’t have to be hard.”

“I just can’t do this right now. I can’t handle all the questions and I can’t handle the way you look at me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I know that there’s been a lot happening lately, but I also know that you’re the silent grieving type. Now I don’t know what happened between you and Bucky in Moscow but I know that it can’t be easy losing a parent. So I’m going to step back and when you’re ready to talk about what happened with Bucky I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks.”

“And I know that Peggy and I can be annoying sometimes but it’s just because we love you.”

“I know.”

“That and apparently Bucky won't tell them anything either.”

“I just need some time.”

“Well time I can give...no matter how impatient I am.”

“And pushy.”

“Now you’re just being insulting.”

“But I still love you.”

“I love you too.” She mumbled.

I went back to work and she headed out, more than likely to her flight for whichever girl’s families he was supposed to meet first. I had dodged a bullet, I always loved Wanda for having my back, but it didn’t lessen the hurt in my heart. I wasn’t sure anyone could fix that.

BUCKY’S POV

Tuesday

With filming done at the house for now, it was off to a new a place.

I didn’t see Y/N at all yesterday and Wanda looked like she wanted to murder me, so I assumed that Y/N wasn’t coming to shooting anymore. That being said the crew and I left pretty late for our flight, accompanied by Malia, whose dad lived in Seattle.

It wouldn’t be a long flight, only at about 3 hours, but sitting in a plane next to one of the crew members, luckily, I didn’t have to put too much effort into putting up my charade, which made everything a lot more tolerable.  

I had never been to Seattle before and despite the fact that I was going to be “pinning” after another woman, I was actually kind of excited for a distraction from what was happening.

After the initial phone call, I had done everything in my power to avoid Y/N. She was already in my every thought and she was ignoring me, so so far everything was going to plan. I just needed to make it to next week, I needed to finish the show. So I had to believe that being in a city that I had never been to before, would provide the perfect distraction from...everything. That is until I spot the cameras.

When we landed I grabbed my carry on and followed the crew out of the plane, all the while they filmed mine and Malia’s every move. Most everyone had just the one bag they needed for the four days that we would be traveling but we had to stop briefly for Malia’s bag at baggage claim, seeing that she wouldn’t be back in for filming again until next Wednesday.

Malia’s father met us at baggage claim shortly after we found her bag, doing a proper introduction. There was definitely a clear resemblance between the two and after her mom left them it must have been a great relief for Malia to be so unlike her.

Her father showed us over to his car, where I placed both of our bags in the trunk before opening the door for her and letting her slide in first. The crew climbed into a van parked behind us and then we got on the road.

The drive to Malia’s house was about an hour and went through the heart of the city. So instead of going straight to the house we decided to stop in downtown and do some basic touristy things: Space Needle, Chihuly Garden and Glass, which I hadn’t know was a thing, and even had a little time to stop in at Pike Place Market after our dinner at their favorite restaurant. It made for an eventful day. I got to see a beautiful city, look at some of the best artwork, and experience a new place that I had never been to before. And despite all of that, I couldn’t help but want to show Y/N all of it and see her smile as she saw how beautiful it was. A few times I had tried to talk to Wanda, I guess just wanting to have someone to talk to about all of this, since I couldn’t talk to Y/N, but she pretty much ignored me everytime I tried.

As we finally called it a day and headed back to her home, her dad spoke more about the city and about how he and Malia had come to live in Seattle. And then he pulled up to their home. It was sort of hidden in from the main street, surrounded by trees and yet still close to their neighbors. It was a beautiful house, unusually big for just two people and yet according to her father quite small at only 3 bedrooms.

As we made it inside, her father grabbed our bags from the trunk and Malia quickly dragged me inside to give a tour, and as usual the cameras were there. The house on the inside was just as beautiful as the outside, with basic but updated features, you could tell it had been recently cleaned, and kind of like her father lived here alone, which I guess he did. To me it appeared strange that the house was so bare. There weren’t too many pictures of the two and despite Malia having shown me pictures of her mother, there was no peep of her mother anywhere. Nonetheless the place was great, just a little un-homey to me.

Malia showed me to the guest bedroom which had a great view of the backyard which was big and surrounded by trees, creating a natural fenced in area. Also on the ground floor, next to the guest room was the kitchen and living room, which I had seen right when I walked in.

She showed me downstairs next, which automatically made me feel a little better. Both the master and the second bedroom were on this basement level and between the two was a small living space with a loveseat, chair, and entertainment system. It became very evident that this was the main living space as there were more pictures and just a little more life than what I had seen upstairs.

As soon as the tour was done her father met us downstairs with Malia’s bag, and just like that the night had ended. The camera crew left for their hotel and promised to be back in the morning, I went back upstairs and quickly fell asleep, not needing more than my head to hit the soft pillow for me to be out.

T-minus 10 days until I can see Y/N again.

Wednesday

I woke up the next morning, actually feeling as if I had gotten some sleep. Her dad had made us breakfast and the half day that we would spend here today would pretty much just be me and Malia...and the crew of course.

But she had made things...kind of hard. Don’t get me wrong I liked Malia, she made it this far for a reason, but she kind of did the exact opposite of what I expected. The whole point of today had been to have her show me who she was, show me where she grew up and how she became the person she was today. When in reality I spent the whole day going around her town meeting people that she had grown up with and being shown off, as if she had already won. It made me feel very uneasy that this side of her, one where she cared so much about what people thought of her, was coming out so late in the show. What else did I not know?

After I thought we had met the last of the entire neighborhood, I took Malia out to lunch, to a little place that I had spotted last night driving in. I should have known better than to expect anything different though. We were shown over to a table and as soon as we sat it was as if the whole place wanted to meet me and while we ordered, ate, and paid I didn’t spend any time talking to Malia, her too busy talking to whoever had joined us at the moment.

Later when we got back to the house I packed up my things and got ready for the next flight. Malia had offered for her and her dad to drive me to the airport but I insisted that she spend as much time with her dad as possible, not really being in the mood to try and carry a conversation with her after a day like today.

And so, with my things in the trunk, me and the crew headed back to the airport. We had had a little bit of time to wait around but I got to walk around, grab some coffee, and I even grabbed a couple of postcards so I could give them to Steve, Peggy, and Y/N when this whole mess blew over. When we finally got to board our flight I found my seat and unfortunately for Wanda, she had to sit next to me. We sat in silence for a bit, I not being sure about what exactly was safe to talk to her about, but knowing that I needed to, otherwise I would explode.

“I have a reason.” I said randomly.

“It’s not good enough.”

“I love her and I would have given everything to stay with her, but I’m thinking about her and I’m not good for her right now.”

“That’s bull and you know it.”

“I don’t really have the choice.” I said a little slower hoping she would catch on to something. I stared at her hoping for some kind of response.

“She trusted you to be there for her—”

“I left her a note asking her to trust me. I need you to trust me too.” Something clicked this time.

“Something’s happened...hasn’t it?” She whispered, making sure none of the other crew members would hear.

“I’m not allowed to say.” I whispered back.

“Is she in trouble?”

“Not anymore.”

“But you can’t tell me anything?”

“I can’t tell anyone.”

“How long before you tell her?”

“Next Friday.”

“Next Friday is the last day of the show.” I didn’t respond after that. She got the idea and now I just needed her to tell Y/N and hopefully she would forgive me when I saw her again.

That or I would have to come up with another plan.

T-minus 9 days until I see Y/N again.

Y/N’S POV

Wednesday

It was another day. Another very long day.

Wake up.

Get ready.

Go to work.

Go home.

The worst part of it all though, was how lonely it was.

And yet instead of calling my friends and just telling them what was going on I watched a sad movie and got all the tears I had been holding in, out of my system.

And of course, I thought of him...a lot.

Thursday

As easy, yet as terrible, as it was to hold everything inside, I was going crazy from not telling anyone about what happened. But I couldn’t tell Peggy what happened because she was Bucky’s friend first and I couldn’t tell Wanda because she still had to work with Bucky. Normally I would call my dad and without him here...the person I went to for everything was Bucky and I obviously couldn’t do that.

The one person I had left...I had to believe that he would be on my side.

I knocked on the door of his very big house and waited for him to answer, but it wasn’t him.

“Is Tony here?” I asked.

“Yeah, let me go get him.”

So I stood in the living room as the woman left to go find Tony. Weirdly enough I was actually kind of nervous, but I wasn’t sure I would make it through the rest of the show if I didn’t get this off my chest. I was pacing in the living room when he came in.

“Hey, Y/N.” I turned to face him and he wrapped me in a hug. “I heard about your dad, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“But I’m pretty sure that that’s not why you’re here.”

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“How about we sit?” The woman said and we moved over to the couch.

“Y/N, you’ve met Pepper right?”

“This is Pepper?”

“According to Tony, I have you to thank for knocking some sense into him.”

“You two are back together?”

“We’re working on it.”

“Well I’m happy for you guys, I could only wish to be so lucky apparently.”

“I think we need to know what happened.” Pepper said.

“What did he do?” Tony asked. Placing a pillow in his lap and letting me rest my head on top.  

“He...I fell in love with him. I let myself believe that he loved me too. I was fooled, duped, played. And now I feel like I can’t breath or eat or sleep because I’ve lost a piece of me.”

“What did he do?”

“He was there for me after my dad died. He came to the funeral and made me feel as if everything was going to be alright. He took me out on the most perfect date. He gave me the best day of my life and showed me what love was really like. But worst of all, he was my best friend. He took care of me, he protected me, he fooled me into loving him. And then left me. I mean, I’m not stupid right? There was something there.”

“You two are crazy about each other.”

“Then what did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what could have happened? I am rattling my brain for some kind of explanation. That day...those dates felt like something more than just a one day kind of thing. He said and...did things that meant more.”

“Tell us about the date, maybe something happened.” Pepper said.

“I have gone over everything a million times...it was a perfect day. He made me breakfast in bed, took me to Roscosmos, and we met up with his friend Sam who gave us a tour of the headquarters. Then we went out for coffee with Sam before we headed back to my house.”

“Did anything weird happen while he was there? Sometimes confronting your past can be hard and he always wanted to be an astronaut, it couldn’t have been easy for him to be back there.” Tony asked.

“He was happy. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, nothing upset him, he was glad to be back, even if it was just for a little while.”

“What happened after?” Pepper said, trying to get me to continue.

“We went back to my house after that and got ready for the next part of the date. I had this really great dress that Peggy bought for me as a bridesmaid gift and he was wearing this navy suit...he looked really handsome. But anyway, he took me to this jazz club and we had drinks and ate dinner and he danced with me, he requested my favorite song...it was nothing I had expected, it was a perfect date.”

“And?”

“And what?” They didn’t need to know everything right?

“It didn’t end there right?” She knew, women always knew.

“The blush tells you everything.” Tony cut in, pointing at my cheeks.

“You guys are so embarrassing.” I covered my face with my hands.

“How was it?” Pepper asked.

“I can’t tell you that!”

And they kept badgering me until I couldn’t take it anymore and walked out onto the patio, putting some space between me and then.

Despite having wanted to talk to someone about all of this it still hurt like hell to think about how good everything was. I missed him. I missed the way he would walk really close to me, so that our hands would touch accidentally. I missed the way he would smile at me when he caught me looking at him, and ignore the fact that I had been looking at him. I missed talking to him about every little thought on my mind, even the thoughts and ideas that made no sense whatsoever. I missed the way he used to hold me when I laid next to him in bed. But most of all I missed the feeling of being completely loved by someone else because I knew that my feelings for him weren’t going to go away anytime soon.

“Are you okay?” I heard coming from behind me. I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks and turned to look back at Tony.

“Sure.”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“I just...I came here looking...looking to hide away I guess.”

“From what?”

“It’s...that’s something he used to say when things got tough. You know, we would go and hide away from everything.”

“Did he give you a reason?”

“For leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Then he doesn’t deserve you.”

“I can’t even remember what my life was like before his interview.”

“I get that.”

“I just thought that talking to you would help because maybe you wouldn’t be on his side. I know that Peggy and Steve are and I can’t tell Wanda what’s happening because she works with him everyday. Normally I would talk to my dad, but...I can’t. I’m just not really sure what to do.”

“When Pepper left me, it was the hardest thing that I went through. She had been this huge part of my life, she was my best friend. All of the sudden I had to learn how to live without her.”

“What did you do?”

“Well at first I tried to blame her, I tried to make it seem like it wasn’t my fault. And then I went through this crazy partying phase where I drank too much and looked for ways to make the day disappear. And when that didn’t help the depression kicked in so I dove back in to my work looking for a distraction. But it took me too long to realize that the reason she left, was me. I had always been a workaholic and it got worse when I got the prosthetic project. I worked through the night, never left the office, and then the fame followed. It became easier for me to talk to someone else at work about what was happening. It became easier to dive back into my work when we were fighting. It became easier...to ignore her and it should have never gotten that far. So when I was done being crazy and depressed and whatever, and when I finally realized that this whole situation had been my fault, I had to spend a lot of time with my feelings. There was a reason she left now, and I had to find a way to be better, not to fix things with her, but to prove that that person wasn’t me anymore, even if she never took me back. What I had to realize was that I may have messed up the best thing I ever had and with time I would come to live through the pain I created. I had to learn to live without her so that maybe one day I would deserve to be happy again. And no matter what happened as long as she was happy, I knew that I would be fine.”

“You were willing to give her up?”

“Yes. I had become someone I didn’t recognize. When I finally realized what I had done, it was too late to try and explain to her what had happened. So instead of trying to make excuses and blame something else for what happened, I decided to let her go so that she could be happy.”

“Do you think I should let him go?”

“I think that you need to talk to someone who knows you and him a little better. I can tell you to leave him and that you deserve better but I’m not the one who knows the both of you best. And I don’t think that Steve and Peggy are automatically going to be on his side.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re they’re friend too. And I don’t think you should make anything final without really talking to Barnes first. There may be a reason, one that could easily fix things. Don’t give up on something good if you don’t have to.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t stay too much longer after that. He tried to get me to stay and watch a movie with them but like he said, I needed to sit with my feelings and maybe I would gather up the courage to actually go and see Peggy and Steve.

BUCKY’S POV

Thursday

We arrived in Hawaii pretty late, too late to go and meet up with Ulani and her parents; they would meet us at the hotel in the afternoon. So getting into our hotel rooms, which I didn’t have to share with anyone, was a blessing after our long flight. And yet the idea of sleeping alone... again...sucked. I was really missing Y/N.  

I woke up the next morning still feeling tired after the shift in time, trying multiple times to go back to sleep until a reasonable hour came around and not having much luck. So instead I got ready for the day, went downstairs for some breakfast and snuck away from the rest of the crew, just wanting to spend some time by myself. So I walked around the island, I did a little window shopping, picking out some souvenirs for everyone and ate some Hawaiian delicacies before heading to the beach. I just put on my shades, put in my headphones and sat in the sand, watching the waves hit the beach over and over again. It was calming and a very welcome distraction. Except for every now and then I would see people looking at me, well not at me, but at my arm and for a second I would think back to Y/N and how she never looked at me in that way, how easily she had accepted that it was a part of me.

But when enough time passed I got the phone call from the director, telling me that I needed to come back to the hotel. I had my towel wrapped around my neck and my t-shirt in my hands, having used the hot weather and the sun to hopefully dry myself off a little more before putting my t-shirt back on. I needed to get back to the hotel and take a shower before meeting Ulani’s parents and maybe even have a enough time to grab Wanda and ask her to iron my shirt for dinner tonight.

I walked into the hotel and started making my way over to the elevators when I was stopped by one of the crew members and was ushered over to Ulani and her parents. I could see their expressions as I was moved to stand in front of them and I very quickly put my t-shirt back on before apologizing. They did the polite thing and told me that they saw it a lot living in Hawaii, but I could see that they were uncomfortable with my arm and that made me feel unwelcome.

And despite that, the cameras started to roll and we did the first introductions and like before I acted like everything was okay when I knew it wasn’t.

No matter what happened, I could tell from speaking with them further that they were good people, there daughter being a spitting image of them. The thing that I liked about Ulani so much was her kindness and her ability to be herself when things got too dramatic with the other girls. She stood out basically because she never stood out. At another time in my life I would have liked to believe that I would have dated her on my own. And meeting her parents and having them think that she had found someone to love only made me feel worse than I already felt.

Her parents seemed excited to meet me, though, after the initial shock of my arm and even gave me a traditional leis, an official greeting to the island, since they weren’t able to meet me at the airport. And instead of doing the touristy things, seeing that I had already done some sightseeing, after I was properly bathed, dressed, and had packed up my things, the three of them took me to their house.

The drive to Malia’s childhood home was beautiful as anyone would expect of Hawaii. Her parents talked excitedly about things happening in their neighborhood and gave me a few stories about what Malia was like growing up. And then they pulled up in front of this beautiful house.

It was smaller than the other ones we had passed, but surrounded by trees and with the noise of the ocean in the background, their home stood out by far. The house itself was triangular with high vaulted ceilings, white wood walls, and dark hardwood floors. This house was stunning in every way no matter how small. Malia being an only child the only other members of her family to meet were her two dogs who immediately welcomed all the added attention of myself and the crew.  

So the rest of the day consisted of settling in to the guest bedroom, walking along the beach with Ulani and eating a traditional Hawaiian meal at a luau, all the while putting on a carefully planned out ruse on my part. It was exhausting.

Spending the day with these cameras on me, watching my every move with a woman that I didn’t love, probably hurting her in the process, made it hard to go to sleep that night. And even though it was just one more night I couldn’t help but feel so completely homesick. I wanted to talk to my friends about what was going on, I wanted to see Y/N, kiss her, hold her, I wanted to be done with the show.

So I spent a lot of time that night going through my phone, looking at pictures and text messages with Y/N and just praying that next week would go by much faster than it was currently moving. I missed her...I missed her a lot.

T-minus 8 days until I see Y/N again.

Friday

The following morning was supposed to be my day with Ulaini, you know showing me where she grew up. But this morning I got a little unexpected surprise and not a bad one at all.

“Hey James? Can I talk to you for a second?” Ulani asked.

“Yeah, Sure.” I looked at her, waiting for her to talk.

“In private?” She looked at the crew members around and knew that she didn’t want this recorded.

“Yeah, did you have somewhere in mind?” Then she came up with a brilliant escape plan, keeping everyone from noticing that we had ever left at all. We walked some ways away from her house, but being so close to the ocean she had the perfect little sea cliff hiding spot for us to sit on, and one with an incredible view at that. She sat down first and I followed behind, both of us looking out at the waves and I waiting for her to say what she needed to say.

“I need your help.” She started. I liked Ulani, I considered her a friend no matter what and if she needed my help who was I to say no.

“Okay.”

“But I may offend you.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t love you.”

“Okay.” I was confused now.

“And I know that you don’t love me.”

“Well….” She wasn’t supposed to know.

“And it’s okay. I’ve seen you with Y/N.”

“But how does this help you.” I gave in, I guess admitting that she was right.

“I think that I have a way to help each other out.”

“I’m not sure I know where you’re going with this.”

“I have also...fallen in love with one of the crew members.”

“Really?”

“And I know, and you probably know too, that the crew contracts don’t allow for coworkers to date.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But there is also a slight issue when it comes to our contracts.”

“With what? I had my lawyer go through it and as soon as the show is over I should be in the clear to see anyone I want.”

“I know that in my contract it says that as soon as I’m eliminated or if I win, the contract is complete.”

“Right, but in my contract it doesn’t ever say that I have to choose someone.”

“But you wouldn’t be completing the contract.”

“What?”

“Okay, so I’ve been thinking. What happens if you don’t choose anyone, contractually?”

“Nothing, the shows over.”

“Not quite. It leaves a hole, essentially, in the contract which can give the network the possibility of sequels.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“I’m not. I went over my contract and it’s permanently finished if either of us end up with someone or if we lose.”

“But they can’t just make us do another show if I don’t choose someone.”

“There’s nothing that says they can’t. If we get eliminated we’re done. If we’re chosen we’re done. But there is nothing in our contract that tells us what happens if nothing happens. And then we would technically still have the contract which leaves the network with people who are still contracted.”

“Which means that we would still be working for them.”

“Which means we still can’t date coworkers.”

“What are you suggesting then?”

“We complete the contract.”

“So I choose someone.”

“You choose me.”

“But if you’re eliminated, you’re free and you—”

“If I win, our contracts will be done and you don’t have to explain to me that you’re in love with someone else. We end our contracts and we get to go off with the people we actually love.”

“Does Malia know about this?”

“No, she actually really likes you. But if you choose me you won’t have to explain to her what we already know.”

“You know, if you had told me sooner I would have eliminated you, I would have been sad to see you go but you deserve to be happy.”

“You would have been sad?”

“Yeah. There’s no drama with you.” She laughed at me and I couldn’t help but laugh too. It felt nice to laugh again. “So do I know this coworker?”

“Yeah you do.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Um...her name is Diana.”

“Props Diana?”

“Yeah?” She looked shocked though.

“What?”

“I just didn’t expect you to react that way.”

“React what way?”

“You know...”

“Because you’re bi? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Well I’m glad you think so.”

“Are you happy?”

“With her...Yeah.”

“Then that’s all that should matter.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course. You know, I may not love you but I still do care about you. I knew from our first date that you would probably win if I was going to pick anyone. Out of everyone I thought that you were the most like someone I would date in real life.”

“Funny enough, I don’t think I ever would have dated you if I met you out in the real world.” I just laughed.

“Why’s that?”

“The last boyfriend I had...he wasn’t so nice when I told him that I was bi. I knew it well before I met him but I just didn’t think about telling him right away. Ever since then I’ve just had more luck with dating women, not that there’s anything against men; you’re just too attractive honestly.” I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard.” The last time probably being with Y/N. “I’m sure it had been something Y/N said.” I said a little more sad.

“Why do you sound sad by that?”

“I haven’t seen Y/N since Moscow.”

“Why?”

“I can’t really say...legally.”

“A gag order?”

“Yeah. They wanted to put her through more...stuff and she doesn’t deserve that, so I did the only thing they offered so that I could be with her again.”

“They made you break up with her.”

“If you consider one date being together than yeah.”

“You guys have only been on one date?”

“It took us a long time to step out of the friend zone.”

“You guys just always seemed like more, and I’m talking like the whole time.”

“What you guys didn’t see was that Y/N and I met long before the show started. And I was scared that my feelings for her were too strong especially when I was about to go on this dating show. There were a few times I wanted to quit and my friends told me otherwise, but they didn’t know how I felt about Y/N, they just assumed I was scared.”

“How did you two meet?”

“She was at my interview for the show. When I first walked in the room, I was so nervous, everyone was looking at me except for her. She was staring down at this notepad, kind of like she was doodling, then I got to stand in front of everyone...and she looked up at me. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. So I introduced myself and they asked me to take a seat. I started telling them about myself and I don’t know what brought me to say that I spoke Russian and Romanian, I guess I just wanted to impress her, you know? And yet the next thing I know she’s speaking to me in Russian, trying to prove that I wasn’t lying. And then I’m talking about how I used to work at Roscosmos and she got really excited because her and her dad had loved Roscosmos. But everything after the interview was just...easy and it’s crazy to think of it in that way because of everything that’s happened but for me it wasn’t ever hard to just be there for her. I didn’t always have the right things to say or did the right things but being with her was really the best thing I could give. And being by her side and seeing just how amazing she was made me fall in love with her.”

“That’s really romantic.”

“How did you and Diana meet?”

“Well...I met her, technically, on the first day of filming. She was walking around the house straightening up things and I thought she was cute, but I kind of had the same thought as you, you know, that I was on this show to see if I would fall in love with you. But as the first weeks passed by and I kept seeing her around it got harder for me to ignore that she was a little more than cute. So I started talking to her, just little things like how was her day and that I liked the shirt she was wearing. Then it turned into her pointing something out that she had spotted on the show and those longer conversations turned into texts and calls. We had been dancing around each other when by that point we knew that there was something there. And out of nowhere she finally asked if I was into girls, she was so nervous, it was cute, and instead of answering her I just kissed her. I just felt so strongly about her that I didn’t feel the need to hide it and we’ve been dating ever since.”

“Honestly, I wish I had done that with Y/N sooner. And yet somehow I don’t regret having been her friend first.”

“I don’t either, even if we were friends shorter than you guys were. One thing I am sad about though…”

“What’s that?”

“She’s here in Hawaii with us and I can’t introduce her to my parents. I don’t really get to fly out here that often and it would have been the perfect opportunity to come out to them.”

“They don’t know?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure the right time will come again.”

“Yeah.”

We stared out at the waves for a little while longer but eventually had to go back to the house, where the crew had been looking for us.

We could only film a few more things before the crew and myself had to leave for the airport; we visited her high school, went to the beach...again, and finally stopped for lunch. The day, unlike what had happened with Malia, was actually good and I was happy that she didn’t try to introduce me to everyone on the island.

The flight back to LA wasn’t nearly as long as the flight from Seattle, I still got home later than I would have liked but I had a lot of time to think on the plane and I came up with a plan.

T-minus 0 days until I see Y/N again

Y/N’S POV

Friday

I got home relatively early from work and quickly made a batch of small pies before heading over. I drove my car in complete silence not really being in the mood to sing along to whatever overplayed radio song. When I pulled up in front of their apartment I sat for a minute, trying my best to collect some last minute bravery to face them. And then I made my way over to their door, knocking as quietly as I could in the hopes they wouldn’t hear.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” I said as soon as the door opened and before me was Peggy with an unhappy look on her face. I held out the plate of pies as a peace offering.

“I’m not sure what exactly I should be mad at. Maybe the fact that you've ignored me all week or the fact that you won't tell me what’s going on, or maybe it’s-”

“Hey Y/N.” Steve moved in front of Peggy, grabbed the pies, handed them to her, ultimately stopping her rant, and wrapped me in his arms. Feeling the familiarity of friends, no matter their anger at me, gave me relief, and made me cry.

Steve could feel my sobs and because of it he held me tighter, not even caring that we were standing on their front porch.  “I’m so sorry Y/N.” He said, not saying it because of anything in particular, just saying it because he was upset that I was upset.

“I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to talk to you guys all week, I just...I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.” I said finally having pulled away from Steve, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

“Wouldn’t want to see you?” He asked shuffling the three of us inside.

“You guys were his friends first.” I said, sitting down on the couch, both of them following suit.

“Y/N…”

“You’re crazy if you think we’d choose which friends to be there for based on something like that.” Peggy said.

“Yeah, if you need us, we’re here for you.”

“Not to mention the fact that he was the one who did this to you, of course we’re going to be on your side.”

“I don't want you to be mad at him.” I said.

“You don’t want us to?” Peggy asked.

“The funny part of all of this is that I’m not really even mad at him. I’m confused and I’m hurt, but I would never be mad at him because I love him...you know?”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed.

“So what happened, obviously the date went well.”

“Obviously?” I asked.

“I saw you in that dress, remember?”

“Yeah...It was a perfect date.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And…?”

“I’m not giving details.”

“So something happened?”

“You two are setting me up just like Tony and Pepper did.”

“They set you up to admit that you and Bucky slept together?”

“Yes.” As soon as I answered their question I knew I had messed up. They became a trying-their-hardest-not-to-smile mess and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “Fine get it out of your system.”

You know when you haven’t seen your best friend in a really long time and when you do get to see each other again, there’s like a lot of squealing and hugging. It was like that with those two, except a whole lot worse. I just sat there and let them get it all out and when they finally caught on that I wasn’t responding to anything, they stopped.

“Sorry.” Peggy said and they both stopped the crazy show that was happening.

“I didn’t come to talk about that.”

“We know.” Steve said.

“I’m just so confused. One second everything was perfect and the next thing I know I haven’t seen him in a week.”

“So the date was perfect, the after was perfect and then he was gone in the morning?”

“Right.”

“Something must have happened while you were sleeping.” Peggy suggested.

“Yeah but what? Everything was completely okay before we went to sleep and he didn’t mention anything before.”

“It may not be something you immediately think of. So, let’s think about what we do know.” Steve cut in.

“Like?”

“Like we know that the both of you are in love with each other.” Peggy said.

“And?”

“We know that a long time ago he decided not to choose anyone on the show.”

“Right. But guys...there’s something I haven’t shown you, I’m not sure if it’ll help but...”

I pulled the letter out of my pocket and looked at it, feeling a little of the heart break all over again.

“He left this on my bedside table before he left.” I handed it over to Peggy and Steve moved closer to her so that he could read.

“Y/N, I can’t begin to tell you how amazing last night was, I would have given anything to stay in that moment forever. You deserve so much more than what’s been dealt to you and ever since the moment I met you, I’ve wanted to be by your side. I wanted to watch you take on the world, I wanted to be the person who told you that everything was alright and make it true, I wanted to hide away with you every chance that we got. I wanted so many things with you, for you, that I got too caught up in the moment and because of that I can’t be with you right now. I wish I could explain to you what’s happened, God knows I’ve told you everything since the moment we met, and yet I can’t put you through this, not after everything you’ve been through. I know you're going to hate me but I have to hope that one day you’ll forgive me and, once this blows over, maybe give me a chance to show you why we belong together. I wish more than anything to be with you one day but if all we had was last night than I’m grateful that I even got one night to be with you. If I do get to be with you again, I look forward to making this up to you. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Love, Bucky.” Steve read out loud, which was then followed by a huge silence.

“Is it me or was that the most romantic and non-terrible break up ever?” Peggy finally pointed out.

“Isn’t it annoying?” I asked.

“Yeah, I see why you’re so confused.”

“And not that angry.”

“I mean, he said all these wonderful things and he made it seem like this temporary thing. I don’t know whether to be mad at him or sad or happy. I just...I don’t know. Which is somehow worse.”

“Yeah…”

“But it does raise a question.” Steve said.

“What?”

“‘I’ll see you in a couple of weeks?’ He obviously has something planned.”

“Is anything supposed to be happening in a couple of weeks from the time he left the note?”

“He doesn’t know about it.” I mumbled.

“What?” Peggy asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, what are you talking about?” There was a long pause, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell them or not, but then again I did come to them for help.

“I resigned.”

“What?!” They both said at the same time.

“My last day is next Friday.”

“You quit because of him?”

“Yes and no. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to see him and not feel completely broken up over him leaving. But this whole thing with him, with the show, made me realize that I wasn’t even living in the real world. They call that reality tv...when it’s all fake. Everything was fake and I fell in love with theatre, with portraying something real, not fooling people into thinking something is real. Working for the network was only supposed to be temporary, it was a way for me to save up some money so I could do what I wanted. I don’t have that problem anymore and I need to get back to reality, back to how I started.”

“What you have with Bucky is real.”

“Yeah, which makes this pain real.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I have...something lined up.”

“Like what?” Saved by the bell, or the knock I guess, we all turned and looked at the front door.

“That must be the pizza we ordered.” Steve said, moving from the couch.

“Let me get it, it’s the least I can do.” I offered, moving off the couch and in front of him.

“You’re out of a job.” Peggy pointed out.

“And I still have $25 million to my name.”

“What?!” They both said at the same time...again. I think that was the first time all week that I genuinely laughed. I could feel the smile on my face as I opened the door...and I could feel it fall a few seconds later.

We both just stared at each other as if there was nothing to say despite all the questions I had. After what seemed like forever he finally spoke.

“Hi.” Was all he said...that was all he had to say?!

My heart was telling me to say something to him, to ask him what happened, to get the answers that I needed. My head was thinking something completely different.

Before I could even register what was happening I had slapped him hard across the face followed by a slam of the door.

“Did you just slap the pizza man?” Peggy asked.

“No.”

“Oh...you take him, I’ll take her?” She said to Steve.

“Yeah.”

“No, I want to talk to him.”

“You just slapped him.”

“I was angrier than I thought.” I opened the door before they could stop me and moved out of the way so he could come in. “I’m not apologizing.”

“I deserved it.”

There was an awkward silence that followed and I just watched him, not really wanting to look away but not really wanting to look at him either.

“Well, this awkward silence is awesome and all but is there a reason you stopped by Bucky?” Steve asked.

“I just didn’t want to sit at my apartment all alone, but I can leave, you guys were probably doing something.”

“You can swing by tomorrow.”

“That sounds good.” He turned to leave, but I couldn’t just let him leave.

“Bucky, wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Why now?”

“What?”

“You used to tell me everything, we’ve always trusted one another.  So why now, why this secret?” He looked at me with sad eyes, eyes that looked like he wanted to tell me and yet when he opened his mouth nothing came out. “You can’t tell me, can you?” I feel like I looked pretty sad, which seemed to catch his attention. He moved closer to me and placed his hands on both sides of my cheeks, holding me like he used to.

“I really want to, It’s been killing me. It’s like I’ve...I’ve been gagged, you know. I can want to say everything that I’ve been holding back and yet I can’t. Я хочу вернуться в Москву. Я хочу, чтобы все вернулось к тому, как это было. (I want to go back to Moscow. I want everything back to how it was.)

“Я также.” (Me too.)

And then as he usually does, he did the unexpected. When he left me alone in Moscow I had always assumed that I had done something to turn him away from me. And then the more I thought about the note the more confused I got, wondering why it seemed like a temporary pause in our relationship. And yet I had always assumed that we could tell each other anything, and if he couldn’t tell me what was happening now then something must have changed, right? So the very last thing I expected him to do was kiss me.

As much as I didn’t want to give in to him, I could feel myself physically sink against him and relax into the kiss. After not having seen him for a week, I couldn’t help but take this moment and remember exactly the way that he made me feel before he left. It was easy for me to love him, I just wasn’t sure how easy it would be to forget him, or even if I wanted to. There were so many thoughts going through my head, that I was never going to get him out.

He pulled away from me, holding me for just a second more before letting me go completely.

“I’ll see you soon.” He said before he left. I watched the door until my brain caught up with what happened, despite not understanding it at all. I turned around to face Steve and Peggy with a confused look on my face.

“Please tell me that you guys just saw that.”

“Yeah, why?” Steve said.

“I wanted to make sure I didn’t dream that.”

“No, that happened.”

“You guys are so cute together!” Peggy said way to excited.

“Well I’m glad you think so, because I’m just more confused.”

“I think I can help there.”

“How?”

“I think I know what’s happening.”

“What?”

“Something funny happened when he was talking to you.”

“Like?”

“When he was talking about being gagged, he looked at me.”

“He looked at you?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.”

“I noticed that too. I couldn’t see where exactly he was looking but he looked away from me when he said that.”

“So I have a theory, one that would make a lot of sense.”

“Okay.”

“A gag order.”

“Okay?”

“A gag order prevents lawyers, witnesses, and other people involved in a lawsuit from giving information to media sources or an unauthorized third party.”

“But what lawsuit? There’s nothing going on that would involve him.”

“Nothing on your grandmother or Jackson’s lawsuits?”

“Not that I know of. I mean he punched Jackson, but I don’t think anything happened after that that would cause a lawsuit.”

“Okay…”

“What about his contract? It’s the only other legal thing I could think of.”

“I didn’t see anything in his contract that he had violated or would give cause to a lawsuit. But…”

“But what?”

“You have a contract with the network right?”

“Of course.”

“Then maybe it’s your contract that’s the problem.”

“My contract?”

“The whole point of the dating show is for him to date the other women on the show, or coworkers. So in his contract there can’t be anything that prohibits him from seeing coworkers when that’s the whole plot of the show.”

“Right.”

“But your contract could have the clause just like most other workplaces.”

“Okay, so let’s say that this is possible. First there’s no proof that Bucky and I have been anything more than friends. Second can they bring a lawsuit against me because I decided to date a coworker?”

“Yes and no. No if all they had was a suspicion. Yes, if they have proof and you’ve given reason to.”

“Given reason to?”

“Caused them problems, cost them money. For instance, let’s say that Jackson decided to charge Bucky with assault charges for that punch. Because it happened on network property it would technically be up to the network to cover the legal fees, which can stack up. They could say that because the two of you were together it caused Bucky to be reckless. They can twist things however they want if they have proof.”

“The gag order?”

“You and Bucky aren’t married so lawyers could use him against you. The gag order keeps him from telling you anything. And him keeping his distance from you could help prove to the network that you weren’t seeing each other and not give them the grounds for a lawsuit.”

“So would this ever end?”

“There is a way.”

“What?”

“He has to choose someone on the show.”

“Great.”

“The one thing that always threw me off about his contract was that there was never anything that stated what would happen if he didn’t complete the show, like if he quit for instance.”

“How is that bad?”

“It leaves a loophole, a pretty good one for the network. See, if he doesn’t finish the show it leaves a hole in the contract that could allow the network to set up other shows for him to be on, as well as the two remaining girls. The contract is completely fulfilled when he chooses a girl on the show.”

“And he won’t be a coworker anymore.”

“Which means if he decides to see you after the show is over then they can’t hang that over your head.”

“A couple of weeks, the letter said a couple of weeks, like when the show is over.”

“And you’ll be done with the network.”

“So if this is true...and that’s a big if, you think I should wait this out?”

“I think he has a reason for what he did and I think that he loves you. And if he says a couple of weeks then maybe hear him out in a couple of weeks.”

“In all of the years that I’ve known Bucky, him leaving like he did was the most out of character thing he had ever done. And I know how much he loves you, so waiting for the show to be over and waiting for him to explain, is the least you could ever give for a lifetime of happiness. Some people never meet the person that they’re supposed to be with for the rest of their lives. So if all you have to do is wait a week to be with him, then I say wait.” Steve chipped in, saying something for the first time in a while.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” They both asked.

“Okay.” I could feel the smile on my face just thinking about it. One week. It seemed that I had waited my whole life to be with him, so I could do one more week.

With the rest of the night we watched movies and finally got our pizza. Steve ran out and bought us some ice cream and for the first time since Bucky left me alone in Moscow, I had a really great night.

PART THIRTEEN 

Tell Me What You Think Here

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[lifeofmarvvel]

The Song Sirens Sing- Part 6

Word Count: 2215

Warnings: Fighting while injured, arguments- you know, the usual now

A/N: I am so sorry for not updating this sooner and without an official hiatus! Originally, I was going to write for a Christmas present but I discovered I was in over my head and stopped. For a bit, I was writing but it was all the Christmas-related imagines I have posted. Next thing I knew, I'm 3 weeks into Semester 2 and homework is once again kicking my butt. Anyway, I finally reread Part 6 and got to writing this one. To make up for it, try to spot the cameo. I hope this makes up for my absence. I honestly can't say how sorry I am about that. And...this is getting too long. I'll stop now. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Part 5

Turns out, work is a great distraction from pain. While you felt genuinely upset about not being able to see Peter, Coulson and Clint had launched you into SHIELD right away. No sooner than the pirate had dragged Peter away, Clint had found you again and dragged you away to restart your conversation with Coulson.

Training had been mostly easy, and soon enough, Nat admitted she joined some time after Clint and agreed to train you again. Thankfully, all hard feelings due to the first sinking vanished with a good talk and your relationship went back to the way it was beforehand. Then, of course, it got harder due to her pushing you to fulfill your full potential.

The assignments from SHIELD started not too long later. At first, you had another mer assigned alongside you to help guide, but once they knew you got the gist of it, they started giving you solo missions mixed in. Currently, you sat in a meeting, learning the credentials of your next mission.

“This is crucial to a network of other missions right now,” your handler, Maria Hill, explained. “It won’t necessarily ruin everything if you fail, but in order to continue in the right direction, we need you this mission to be successful.” She swam around the room, looking as stern as the day you met her. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the reply from you and a few others.

“Good.” She passed out some folders, which you quickly opened. Inside, a picture of a ship sat in one corner. The rest of the pages covered all background info on the crew, and all collected information on the captain.

Hill spoke again, drawing your eyes towards the front again. “What you are looking at is The Poisoned Plunder. It’s part of a fleet named Hydra. Background on that will be in the folders. We’ve teamed up with our land counterparts to take down Hydra’s Commodore Wolfgang von Strucker. He’s been up to no good both on land and in the ocean.”

She proceeded to go into a deeper explanation. While she did so, you took a good look at the ship. It looked intimidating- but that was probably the point. You were to take it down by yourself once the meeting was over. Everyone else here was involved with either the other ships or behind-the-scenes.

“This will be put into action immediately. Head straight to your stations. Dismissed.” Everyone departed, going their different ways. You were nearly out the door when “(Y/L/N)” broke through the noise. Halting, you turned around and headed back.

“Yes ma’am?” you asked.

“I know you’re significantly younger than the average agent. I just want to let you know we have faith in you.” She looked you in the eye, hands clasped behind her back. “We picked you for a reason; don’t doubt it. You’ll do well, Agent.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, signaling you were dismissed as well.

You exited the room, heading over to where Clint and Nat sat. Hopefully, this send-off will go better than the last.

True to their word, Peter spent a large chunk of time cooped up in his quarters. “The sooner you heal, the sooner you can get back to work,” was repeated so many times, the crew was sure it was engraved into his head. They let him out for meals and meetings, which was nice. Better than nothing.

The ship had stopped on a nearby small island, Slovinia (not to be confused with Sokovia), for repairs. While they were docked, Steve learned from a local- an old man with glasses- that a part of the Hydra fleet was nearby. Some searching and Scott discovered it was The Poisoned Plunder. Once out on the water again, a new plan was hatched to take it down.

Peter hadn’t been allowed in the crow’s nest since the fight. This would be no different. As Tony put it, “You’ll be grounded for the next fight. And not in, like, an angsty teen way. More like a you’re-not-allowed-to-climb-on-anything way.” Though, he had warned him to try to stay out of the fight. He may have a cutlass this time, but he’d have to fight with his left arm.

The crew was better prepared when Sam yelled, “Sail ho!” Immediately, the deck bustled with action. The sun shone, reflecting off the water brightly. Much better conditions than last time.

It was now or never. “Fire!”

BOOM!

The fight has begun.

The water stilled when you came upon the ship. There it was, in all it’s infamous glory: The Poisoned Plunder. Some of the hands wandered around the deck, doing as their captain ordered.

You waited, watching for the opportune moment. Not yet, your instincts told you. Training had done its job. They seemed to be preparing for a fight. Uh oh. Not a good sign, but it might get you into better standings with SHIELD if whoever they were fighting was also a threat that needed taking down. Time to kill two birds with one stone.

You held onto the sternpost, hoping that if that failed you’d be close enough to grab onto some barnacles on the keel. Slowly, the ship crept up on the other. It looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Oh well. You’d seen so many ships by now it was bound to happen.

Once the ships started to face each other, you let go. Swimming to the side of the two ships, you readied yourself. This was for a good cause. You can do it. A deep breath and you started. The song was different from your first singing. Not only did it show your supervisors you were improving, but it also helped you steer clear of memories of that fateful event.

“I dreamed a dream the other night Lowlands, Lowlands away my John I dreamed a dream the other night Lowlands away…”

Unfortunately, it seemed like nobody could hear you. The battle had commenced with cannon fire, and it appeared it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. At first, it was pure cannons and guns. Once the ships got closer, the crew of the Poisoned Plunder boarded the other ship. Raising your voice, you continued.

“I dreamt and saw my own true love Lowlands, Lowlands away my John I dreamt and saw my own true love Lowlands away….”

Still no reactions. You swam under the ship, avoiding falling cargo. If that side doesn’t work, maybe this one will. After all, it could just be a matter of where the pirates are standing and not noise.

“I dreamt my love was drowned and dead Lowlands, Lowlands away my John I dreamt my love was drowned and dead Lowlands away.”

It was no use. Nobody could hear you, and no storm was brewing over the ships- that was certain. You were too distracted. You stayed, determining that you could at least bring back useful information for SHIELD to use later.  

Glancing at the ships, a figure here and there stood out. You must’ve seen this ship before! Why else would everything was recognizable? The pirates continued to fight each other. Strucker was easy to find- he was stuck in some kind of 2-on-1 fight. Some crew members swung around on ropes, using cutlasses. Others fought with fists.

That’s when you saw him.

Peter.

He was fighting an obviously older pirate. His right arm cradled to his chest, attempting to fight with a cutlass in his left. It was wrapped. He was injured. He was here. His curls dangled in his face, making you wonder how he could see anything. He was struggling. He was losing.

Everything clicked. Peter was here. That meant that this was the SS Avengers that the Poisoned Plunder was fighting. It wasn’t bad guy against bad guy, per se. It was bad guy against possible allies. You had to tell Hill once this was over.

Why was Peter injured? How did it happen? How long has he been injured? The festival couldn’t have been too long ago, could it? Why wasn’t anyone helping him? He clearly was struggling.

Peter carelessly switched his sword to his right arm. He raised his hand, and, while the other pirate ducked an incoming barrel, struck him in the head with the hilt.

The pirate was down in seconds. The fight was clearing, and Peter looked around for his next fight (foolish boy) when he spotted you. He gasped and raced to the edge of the ship.

“(Y/N)!” he called out. “What are you doing here?”

“I was sent to sink the Poisoned Plunder,” you answered truthfully.

“You need to leave! Before one of them sees you and tries to kill you!”

“Kill me? You’re the one that’s fighting against them!”

He frowned, taking your response into consideration. “We can talk afterward. If you can hang on that long. I want to talk to you.”

You nodded in agreement and waited. The fight didn’t last too long after that. The Avengers made quick work of the HYDRA crew. The sea swallowed the Poisoned Plunder but the victory did not bring cheers.

“How did he get away again?!” you heard a voice cry. It sounded like the man who had dragged Peter away from you. “This is beyond securing a deal now. He needs to stop fleeing and face me like the pirate he claims to be!”

The crew gave their agreements to that. “We need to regroup. Team meeting, Captain’s quarters. Now,” another voice called out. Well then. Your arrival back at SHIELD was going to be much later than planned. Hopefully, you wouldn’t get in too much trouble.

You swam your way around the ship to the Captain’s Quarters window. If you listened hard enough, maybe you could overhear information.

No such luck. Tony had done a good job at reinforcing his windows, not that you knew. Not that you knew the chaos happening inside said room at that exact time, either.

“YOU WHAT!?” Tony screamed at Peter. Peter ducked his head and took a step closer to Thor.

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal! I saw her at the festival and I’m perfectly fine! I just thought that maybe if I could talk to her after this I could get more information for the crew. You know, find out why she’s after Strucker and how we fit in.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. The team watched, partially amused. It was hard to tell if Tony was being overprotective because of safety reasons or if it was because he didn’t want Peter having girl issues. Just 6 months ago, if you had told any of them they’d watch their captain freak out over his son/mentee-figure, they would’ve laughed in your face. Oh, how things change.

“No. I don’t want you meeting up with her again. How can you be so sure she won’t try to kill you again?”

“Uh...maybe because she was at the festival and I’ve talked to her?” Peter tried.

Tony shook his head. “We need to make absolutely sure that you won’t get Siren Sickness again. The last time we had Shuri treat you but she’s not here now. We have no way of knowing whether or not it’ll happen.”

“But-”

“No. Your arm is still healing, anyway.”

“He’s got a point, kid,” Steve agreed. “We have no way of knowing. And I think it’s safe to say we’d all feel better if you didn’t have to fight with a broken arm again. We don’t need you dying on us.”

Peter pouted but followed as Thor put his arm around him and lead him out of the room. As they left, he could hear the crew starting to argue again. “It’s not my fault Strucker got away! I was down! So technically, it’s your fault!” ringing out the loudest.

Thor chuckled when Peter asked, “Do they never not fight?”

“They do, young Spider. Just usually not after battles. Now, how would you like for me to keep you company with another story of my brother and me?

Peter perked up. “Yes, please,” he said eagerly.

You watched as Peter was lead but a muscular, blond man down to the lower deck. Nobody followed. Oh. Did he forget? You waited just to make sure. The rest of the crew eventually came out and started up their normal activities. Maybe he did forget.

You sighed and dove back into the water. At least you got to see him again. But did he forget about you? Or did his crew drag him away again? Your hands clenched at the thought. On top of that, you weren’t able to get extra information as you hoped. Now you had no excuse for your late arrival. Oh boy were you going to be in trouble now.

Great. Just great. And Hill said she had faith in you. You let them down. You were always letting people down. Why couldn’t you just succeed at something for once in your life? At this rate, it would do good to just assume you were going to fail now. No need to get your hopes up. No need to get anyone’s hopes up. Great. Juusstt great.

Part 7

[seoulscenarios]

College AU! Yang Jeongin

Well,,, the end is finally here and i can’t thank everyone enough for showing this series so much love and support! I can’t believe it’s finally the end i’m close to tears everyone! I hope you enjoy this last installment <3

-Major: Art and Design

-Minor: Applied Music

-Sports: he was scouted by the track and field coach bc he saw jeongin run across campus extremely fast carrying a massive art folder bc he was late for class so jeongin went,,, and stayed though he’s not the fastest he gets doted on by all the seniors who coo over him bc wow look at this adorable kid

-Clubs: photography bc he loves taking photos but not enough to analyse them lmao, also goes to choir but he’s a very nervous boy bc the choirmaster is SCARY

-Jeongin being the youngest means he gets smothered with love and he’s like hYUNG PLS GET OFF ME but he secretly loves it bc it means they all buy him food so he doesn’t have to pay for it himself ;)

-Literally the only reason he puts up with the cuddles is so they treat him afterwards

-(Though when he is tired he lets Chan pull him in onto his lap and he just snuggles up to him bc he’s just a tired soft boy)

-(When he wakes up he tells Chan not to tell his flatmate Jisung bc otherwise Jisung would chase him for hugs all the time)

-Jeongin is literally the campus cutie and literally all the seniors help him carry his art folder and he’s like !!!! I can do it myself and they just reply by ruffling his hair and taking his art folder whilst trying to balance 5 textbooks and he’s worried but doesn’t know how to tell them it’s fine

-Let’s just take a moment to appreciate Jeongin who goes to his art classes wearing overalls and a striped shirt, with circle glasses and a big grin bc he’s finally painting mY HEART

-Jeongin’s preferred medium is paint but he is also partial to chalks bc he’s just a kid okay let him have this

-You can always spot him bc he’s always covered in paint splatters no matter how many times he’s tried to get the stains out it’s very adorable

-He really loves to paint especially in summer and he goes to the park and paints the scenery bc everyone is happy and so is he

-His room is just filled with stacks of paintings from his adventures at the park

-Jisung tries to get Jeongin to paint him and just sits pouting on his bed and jeongin REFUSES bc he can’t draw people let alone paint them and he STRESSES and Jisung is like oh NO DON’T STRESS

-Jisung, backhugging a confused Jeongin: stress is bad for the baby

-Jeongin: hyung, I’m not a baby

-Jisung: I’M the baby shhh let me hug you

-Jeongin: hYUNG

-Jeongin is secretly happy to live with Jisung bc the two of them are just big kids but Jisung is like his biggest supporter

-He’s struggling with a piece of artwork? Jisung treats it like the Mona Lisa and Jeongin is EMBARRASSED but has a lot more faith in his work and his teacher loves it

-Jeongin texts Jisung when he gets his grade and Jisung is like THAT’S MY BABY YOU DID THAT

-The only problem with Jeongin and Jisung living together,,,, is they are actual children and Woojin is almost constantly round to clean up after them bc it’s just a whirlwind of paint splatters and crumpled up paper

-Woojin couldn’t even find the plates until he was putting the groceries away and found them in the freezer????

-(yes Woojin does food shopping for the boys bc otherwise they’d be living off takeout and instant ramyeon and woojin’s like ur not getting the right nutrients as he stockpiles their fridge and cupboards with rice and vegetables and pre-cooked dinners courtesy of Chan who was stress cooking the other day)

-Jeongin just shrugs and returns to his easel

-Oh,,, the boys don’t really understand his work but they love and support anyway

-Jeongin,,, what is that?

-It’s a building landscape?

-Umm… sure it looks amazing sweetie you’re doing so well

-Jeongin just loves abstract paintings that confused people and you bet he has a picture of him with some of picasso’s work framed on his desk

-His mantra: if Picasso can do it, so can i

-His professors love his work bc he’s the literal sunshine when he’s in class and he answers questions very cutely and they’re like,,,, we shouldn’t have favourites but damn it’s Jeongin

-The students can’t even argue bc,,, their favourite too, is Jeongin

-But he is a genuinely great artist and everyone admires his stuff

-He even got one of his first of ever pieces put on display and all the prospective students are like ?!??! this is done by a FIRST YEAR

-That’s privilege bc only final year students have their stuff displayed in the art department

-When Chan was picking Jeongin up from class and saw his artwork on the wall he took a photo of it on his phone and sends it too Woojin and they’re both,,, look at our son go we’re so proud of you :’)

-You can almost guarantee Chan took the boys out for a celebratory meal and they’re all like,,, we don’t know the occasion but free food?? Sign me up

-Jeongin just sits there and is very confused bc he too doesn’t know the reason but Chan orders him his favourite dish and he’s a very happy baby

-Chan does a toast to his youngest son Jeongin just DIES bc why is Chan embarrassing him like this and why is the whole restaurant cheering for me

-Cue Jeongin melting into his seat, hoping for the floor to just swallow him up there and then tbh

-He’s just a flustered boy when people compliment his work bc he works so damn hard and he doesn’t think what he produces is good enough

-And everyone is like Okay who are we fighting :)

-Jeongin’s like,,, no one??? I said it’s not good enough

-Everyone:…. Time to smother you in cuddles and compliments until you believe in yourself

-Jeongin: o h  n o

-He tries to run but,,, Seungmin’s arm is flung out and omg since when was Seungmin strong (he concludes it’s all the law book he carries around) and long story short; jeongin finds himself in a cuddle pile for a good hour and given so many compliments bc they just want him to feel better and more confident :’)

-ALSO,, at 3RACHA gigs he’s the most hyped there (besides Jisung but he never rests)

-He’s there with his little glow sticks and jumping up and down in his seat bc they’re his hyungs and he’s so proud of them

-Can we also take another moment to accept the fact that Jeongin goes to Chan and Changbin for singing advice bc he trusts them and they really help him improve esp his confidence

-He goes to choir practice and asks the scary choirmaster if he can audition for a solo part

-He agrees, a little sceptical bc he’s never heard Jeongin sing properly before, and boy is he SHOCKED bc he has a really good voice ???

-Everyone is outside the audition room and are genuinely surprised that their resident youngest is good at singing??

-Jeongin goes to Chan’s apartment after choir practice BEAMING and chan’s like,,, what happened???

-I got a solo part in the concert at Christmas

-tIME FOR ANOTHER CELEBRATION

-HYUNG DO WE HAVE TO?

-YES IT’S TRADITION

-Chan treating the boys no matter how small or big their achievements are? Of course he does,,, it’s a good job he gets money from producing money or else he would be BROKE

-Another thing about Jeongin

-He volunteers at the local vet to help look after the dogs

-Jeongin cuddling with puppies after they have had a flea shot or something??? A CONCEPT

-He loves all of the animals and all the clients love the soft boy and they’re like,,, oh you must be doing a vet course

-And he’s like oh no !! I just like to volunteer here bc they needed someone to help them!!

-A pure boy I’m crying

-He mainly works at the reception bc he’s not qualified to be in the practice rooms but that also means when it’s not very busy he can go over and pet the animals (if their owners let them which they always do bc how can you refuse Jeongin anything) and it’s just very soft

-One of his favourite clients is this woman who has a pregnant golden retriever who comes in for checkups weekly bc her dog isn’t the best condition health wise and Jeongin gets sad whenever he reads the file when he’s booking the appointment

-However,, the owner lets him hug her dog and Jeongin cuddling a golden retriever?? I’m sobbing

-Like imagine a smiley Jeongin with his arms wrapped around the dog’s neck and she’s really happy bc Jeongin is just the softest boy and she’s wagging her tail happily and everyone in the reception area is dying at how cute the image is

-One time Jeongin found himself cross legged on the floor with the dog’s head in his lap whilst he was cradling a puppy and his supervisor nearly scolded him but when he saw how serene the two animals were he softened bc he’d never seen them so calm in the vets

-Jeongin,,, why didn’t you choose to study veterinary you’re so suited to it?

-Easy, I failed biology and chemistry,,, I’m just not good academically

-After the woman’s dog gave birth to seven healthy pups she actually offered Jeongin a job to walk the puppies once they were old enough

-Jeongin lost his collective marbles bc being paid to walk dogs??? His favourite animals in the world?? He nearly cried but told the woman he would do it free

-She refused bc he’s too good with the dogs and she wanted to reward him bc he wasn’t being paid at the vets

-He nearly cried when she paid him for the first time and was like ma’am it’s not really worth this much!!!

-She just replies by ruffling his hair and telling him to go and have fun bc he’s just a kid

-Jeongin uses that money on new art equipment and Jisung is like,,, is chan giving you an allowance smh favouritism

-Jisung calm down I actually have a job

-You,,, have a job??? Omg how did a child get a job before me??

-Hyung,,, you earn money bc of 3RACHA ?? just bc you spend it all on Cheetos or something doesn’t mean I do

-You little sh- WAIT what even is your job?

-I walk dogs

-That’s so pure I can’t be mad

-That’s how you actually meet Jeongin, when he’s walking the dogs

-You’re just chilling in the park with your book bc it’s a really nice day and ur like,,, well it’s time to enjoy the sunshine before midterms roll around

-You’re lying down reading your book when something wet is nosing at your hand and ur like WTF IS GOING ON

-You pull your book away from your face and ur greeted with a puppy??

-I mean,, ur not complaining bc it’s a cute puppy and before you know it the puppy has jumped on you so ur just like,,, this is my best life I’m living right now

-You’re worried tho bc this puppy must belong to someone so you try and take a peek at the collar but it just bites your hand playfully and ur like,,, the betrayal

-After about 10 minutes of playing the puppy falls asleep on your lap and ur like f r i c k what do I do now

-You contemplate calling the vet bc you really don’t know what to do with a lost puppy?? And you know the vet is close by and normally take in lost pets

-You decided that it was the best course of action and are looking up the vet’s phone number when you see a figure with about 6 other dogs on a leash calling out a name

-You breathe a sigh of relief and slowly pick up the puppy and began walking up to supposed owner

-Jeongin,,, on the other hand is S T R E S S E D

-How could he lose a puppy so easily??? I mean when you’re walking 7 of them and they all have a lot of energy and pulling you in different directions,,,, it’s understandable

-However it’s been 15 minutes and he still can’t find the puppy so he PANICS and is frantically searching the park calling the pups’ name when a stranger walks up to him cradling the puppy

-Jeongin is RELIEVED bc omg the puppy is back and he tries to scoop the pup into his arms but you know,,, his hands are pull with six other leashes

-You laugh watching him try and struggle and he BLUSHES

-Ur like,,, oh he’s CUTE

-“It’s okay, I can help you if you want. This little rascal fell asleep anyway and the others look like a handful”

-“Y-you want to help me? B-but you don’t know me?” jeongin is very confused

-“Of course I want to help you! It must be very difficult to walk 7 over hyper puppies I’d love to help you”

-Jeongin just flashes you a big grin and oh no he has braces and a gummy smile and ur like F R I C K call the ambulance

-He hands you two of the leashes, warning you that it might be difficult to control them

-You just laugh again bc,,, how could it be THAT difficult to walk two puppies and hold a third

-Answer: very difficult and oh my life how does this mystery boy do it you think as the pups are nearly pulling your arm out of your socket

-Once the pups tire out a bit, you and Jeongin finally get the chance to talk

-You find out his name, his major and u can’t help but admire the fact he volunteers at the vets bc it’s so cute

-You’re also shocked that he’s not studying veterinary bc he seems so natural but once he enthused about Picasso ur like,,, ofc this boy is an art major

-You also introduce yourself and he’s in awe at the fact you study pharmaceutical science bc,,, wow that must be so hard you must be like a genius or something ??!?!?

-You just blush hard bc hello,,, a cute boy just called you a genius ?

-You protest saying that it’s not that much and it’s really boring hahah

-And he’s like no!!! it’s really cool like you’re literally going to be able to save people’s lives in the future that’s awesome

-You blush again and Jeongin’s like,,, oh I got over enthusiastic about it :( and suddenly the clouds have covered the sun and ur like why are you sad???

-He’s like,, I scared you off didn’t I?? I’m sorry if I got too into your subject :(

-Ur just in shock bc,,, no one has ever showed interest in your course before so you’re just in shock bc u don’t know how to react

-You just protest and say that it’s okay,,, no one ever really pays attention to my course they’re just like heh drugs but like,, ur being all nice about it it’s ,,,,, nice

-Suddenly the sun is back bc Jeongin smiles and asks you more about it

-As your describing how the heart reacts to different types of drugs, you and Jeongin had reached the lady’s house and you’re handing the dogs back to her n ur kinda sad bc,,, you probably won’t see Jeongin again

-BUT he walks you back to your dorm and is like,,, thank you so much for helping me even though you didn’t have to!!!

-Ur like no problem !! maybe we can do it again it was fun!!!

-Jeongin’s ears flush and he just nods, giving you his phone number so you can arrange another day to walk the dogs

-You and Jeongin meet at least once a week, sometimes more if the weather is nice and you’re not busy with lab stuff and the two of you walk the pups together

-It’s just really soft and sometimes you go and get ice cream together

-Why can’t I help you walk the dogs?

-Jisung hyung,,, you’re nearly as bad as the dogs

-I’m offended

-The two of you grow closer, bonded by the dogs, and you could say,, it’s puppy love (I shall see myself out)

-It’s just,,,, the two of you look so adorable walking the dogs together and occasionally eating ice cream it’s so cute?!?!

-One time Jeongin wiped ice cream from the corner of your lips and you couldn’t look him in the eye for DAYS bc you were so embarrassed but Jeongin just found it adorable but also H E C K why did he do that I must be a fool

-A lovesick fool Jeongin

-Yes,, he had developed a little crush on you and it was the sweetest bc he would pay for your ice cream or give you his jacket if it got a little cold

-One time you came by to walk the dogs and u were running on like 3 hours asleep bc of ur lab report and Jeongin was like !!! no I’m walking you home rn no BUTS

-U just accept it bc ur so tired but everyone who’s on campus is like ?!?! PUPPIES AT 12 O’CLOCK BUT ALSO JEONGIN IS WALKING THEM AND SOMEONE IS WITH HIM THAT ISN’T HIS FRIENDS THIS IS NOT AN ALARM

-Some people do actually stop and pet the puppers but Jeongin is like excuse me sorry we have an emergency and grabs your hand, pulling you through the small crowd

-OoooOOOooH

-(also,, Jeongin holding your hand and 5 puppies leashes whilst you have the other two?? A talented boy)

-He walks you right up to your apartment building, sad that he couldn’t come in and make sure you were resting instead of studying but he had 7 puppies and animals were banned

-You text him the next day after you slept for a good 18 hours and Jeongin just spams you with smiley faces and heart stickers n ur like,,, hello is the ambulance I’m in need of medical assistance

-Jeongin is blushing bc why the heck did he send so many heart stickers to you

-But when you reply with even more,,, Jeongin full on BEAMS and Jisung is like,,, dude u good

-I’M FINE LET ME LIVE

-Anyway since that incident you and Jeongin text more,, and you even meet up outside of walking the dogs

-Like,,, you told him that you were working late in the labs bc you were doing some more research for your synthesis of simple drugs module

-So this cutie rocked up with some snacks and a hot chocolates from the campus coffee shop,, albeit he got lost bc why are labs so confusing ??? why is science confusing ??? this is why he failed science at high school lmao

-You are very shocked to say the least bc,,, no one has EVER bought you a drink before let alone to the lab when ur working

-U blush and thank him bc,,, how could u not he’s so sweet

-The two of you just sit there drinking your hot chocolates as he tells you about his day in the art department and how someone ruined their work by dropping into someone else’s palette of oil paints n they cried

-You were laughing bc jeongin has such an enigmatic way of telling stories that you couldn’t NOT laugh at them

-Also,,, he looked damn cute in his denim overalls and sweater that you just wanted to kiss his cheeks

-Little did you know,,, that jeongin too thought you looked really cute in your lab coat and a pencil behind your ear bc you looked so professional ??? but also had a bit of cream on ur upper lip from the hot chocolate

-He just giggles and leans in to wipe it off

-The both of you just freeze bc,,, H E C K

-You just think,, screw it and swoop in to kiss his cheek and he nearly damn DROPS his hot chocolate bc that was so cute

-“Maybe,,, we should go on a proper date at the weekend?” you ask him shyly

-“YES!”

-(He stays with you whilst you finish your lab stuff off and he’s in admiration as you’re concentrating and he thinks it’s really cute,,,, pls protect him)

-DATING JEONGIN:

-So,,, you two are literally the campus sweethearts ?

-Like,,, you’re both always just shyly walking across campus together and everyone is like wow look at our children go

-When Chan finds out that you’re dating he literally cries bc his youngest son is grown up and Jeongin is like,,, for the last time I’m not your son

-You just giggle into your sleeve as Chan pulls him in for a hug whilst Jeongin is like mOM GET OFF

-Speaking of skinship,,, the two of you are very to shy to initiate it at first and it takes like weeks before Jeongin works up the courage to hold your hand in public

-Not that you were much better bc u were nervous as heck bc what if he didn’t like it but little did you know he was trying to psych himself up for it

-When he finally did u were just a smiley blushy mess and he was no better

-Since that day tho, Jeongin LOVES holding your hand

-He literally never lets go of your hand at any point if I can help it,,, it just makes him so happy ?? The feel of your hand slipped into his makes him smile so much

-The feeling of your fingers tangled together, no matter how tight or loose, fills him with so much giddiness that one day ur like Jeongin why do you like holding my hand so much

-And he tries to explain but he cant quite articulate it properly, setting on “it feels nice and I feel so,, warm and happy” and you just giggle, tightening your grip on his hand

-Cuddles,,, at first were rare but the more comfortable you got you can bet that Jeongin initiates them a lot

-Jisung gets jealous when he sees the two of you huddled up on the sofa, your head on his shoulder and hands interlocked bc when will Jeongin cuddle me

-Jeongin just flips him off and continues to cuddle you

-Chan, somewhere on campus: did,,, my son just swear???

-Yeah he’s just a cuddle bug around you and he loves to be backhugged by you bc he can play with your hands and you get to smush ur face into his shoulder it’s very soft

-He especially loves it when you backhug him whilst he’s in the art studio when he’s sketching or painting something,,, just give him warning otherwise he WILL jump and nearly ruin his artwork as you learnt one day oops

-But he just feels so serene and relaxed as you rest your chin on his shoulder and your arms settle around his middle

-The two of you go on so many cute dates as well??

-Like,, there’s a dog café opening up near ur uni and jeongin is like,,, Y/N do you wanna go and pet some dogs and maybe hold hands and ur like,, jeongin we do that nearly everyday but sure where are we going

-He just drags you to the dog café and you spend literally the whole day there hugging dogs and drinking probably overpriced smoothies but who cares,,, the dogs are cute (but u think Jeongin is cuter but don’t tell him that or else he will tackle u and say that ALL dogs are cuter than him) and you get to spend all day with your boyfriend ???

-Jeongin also snaps many photos of you cuddling the dogs bc you look so happy and cute surrounded by so many dogs that he couldn’t resist

-He uploads his favourite ones to Instagram and all the boys are posting extremely cute comments bc our jeonginnie is all grown up and his partner is so cute :’( :’(

-You meet the boys in the park one day bc Jeongin is like,,, u have to save me bc otherwise they will attack me with cuddle

-You agree but are like,,, ur fine with me attacking you with cuddles

-He’s just,,, Y/N ur my significant other you are ALLOWED to cuddle me and,,, I like it when u cuddle me

-You just giggle and grab his hand as you walk to the park

-They’re an interesting bunch to say the least,,, Jisung threatens u in case u hurt his baby n ur like !!!!! but jeongin reassures you that Jisung can’t hurt anyone he’s too small to be frightening it’s seungmin you have to watch out for

-You’re shocked bc Seungmin looks so nice ?? and pure??? Until 10 minutes later Hyunjin throws a bottle at him and Seungmin full on launches his textbook at him and ur like nvm I see what you mean

-Chan and Woojin sit with you and Jeongin and they ask you about how the two of you met, and what you study and stuff

-You’re a bit overwhelmed but Jeongin helps you out and is holding your hand tightly so u feel safe and Chan’s like pure love but also,,, u don’t have to answer out questions if it’s too much we just want to get to know you better!!!

-And ur like,,, it’s fine I’m just a little nervous bc everyone is so,, loud??

-Woojin just apologises for them and says u kinda get used to it once you spend more time with them

-And you do, bc they always invite you out when they do stuff and suddenly the loud volume is normal and u don’t mind it anymore

-You and Jeongin do study together though,, with being in such different majors it’s kinda difficult

-Though you can always be found in an empty art studio as Jeongin is painting on a canvas and ur sat surrounded by diagrams of the heart and cardiovascular system and everyone’s like,,, this is odd but it’s cute we support 10/10

-Jeongin likes to help you study by testing you on different terms and you think it’s really cute when he mispronounces words and tries to blame it on his braces but u both know its bc he has absolutely no idea how to pronounce oxidoreductases but he tried his best okay

-He got a little pouty when you laughed at his pronunciation of haemoglobin so you had to kiss his nose and cheeks in order for him to forgive you and he was just a blushy mess when you pressed a further quick peck to his lips UWU

-Jeongin, despite not liking drawing portraits, loves to sketch you and in particular,, your back profile

-That way,, he didn’t have to worry about your face and could sketch the backdrop as well

-One day you were on a date in the park and you were sat reading your book whilst Jeongin had his sketchpad out

-He began to sketch you bc you looked so perfect and Jeongin couldn’t quite believe you were his that he wanted to immortalise it on paper and on ur 6 months he gave you the sketch and you cried bc it was perfect

-(You got it framed and it’s now hung up in your room and every time you see it you just smile bc it reminds you of all the good things in life)

-You and Jeongin were just the cutest couple that everyone dotes on a lot

-One time,, you both wore matching dungarees and sweaters and circle glasses and you walked onto campus giggling, holding hands and EVERYONE collectively awed and Chan even snapped a photo of you two bc you both looked so happy and in love that he had to wipe a stray tear from his eyes

-He sent it to Jeongin with loads of happy faces and Jeongin was like,,, hyung ur photo skills aren’t the best but somehow,,, it looks good I’m gonna thank Y/N for significantly improving this photo thanks hyung

-No problem son :)

-Jeongin frames it and keeps a copy in the back of your phone so you both have a copy of it and wow ur so adorable

-The campus sweethearts are just the cutest I’m crying

THE END IS HERE IM SO SAD i loved writing these aus so much i can’t believe it’s over!! this series is a big thank you to our first 100 followers and hopefully,, here’s to all our new followers who are here and support us we love you so much and we hope you’re happy and healthy 

(also,, happy 100 days with stray kids!!!)

Much love <3 <3 <3 <3

[edit: we just hit 200 followers?! im crying i love you all so much!!!]

[edit 2: this is completely irrelevant but also kind of relevant bc i just passed my second year of college and im extremely happy!!!]

[agent-barnes40]

Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of mischief, Rightful heir to Jotunhiem, ...Odinson

This story contains scenes from Avengers: Infinity War, so ya’ll have been warned. Also, definitely this is from a series I have on AO3 and Wattpad.

Also, Caitlyn is a teenager and Hawkeye/Clint Barton’s daughter. This was before we had learnt what had happened in Endgame.

Thanos' hand tightened around his throat, squeezing, watching as the blood vessels popped and Loki's nose bleed. Only then, did the mad titan drop the traitor, not knowing what was happening to a certain Avenger's teenage daughter. Clint watched as his daughter clawed at her throat, obviously in too much pain to even cry out before being dropped to the ground, and managing to take a deep breath and start coughing. He hurried to her side, pulling her into his lap, gently massaging her neck, shushing her slight cries.

"Laura!" The man screamed, noticing the way his daughter's body fought against him after a few moments of taking small breaths. Laura hurried out and went still at the sight. "Clinton Francis Barton! What the hell did you do!?" She yelled as she hurried over, dropping to her daughter's side, checking for herself that her eldest was breathing. Clint looked up at him, flinching softly at the sight of her glare. "I was cutting wood when she started gasping. I couldn't do anything but watch."

Laura glared at him even more. "You're so lucky, that I'm taking mercy on you right now, Clinton." She started humming and playing with the girls' hair, trying to get her to open her eyes. Finally, the teenager's eyes fluttered open, tears quickly following. "H-He's dead..." Clint went deadly still. "Now we can't think like that, honey."

"I was on a ship, this purple man holding my throat, his grip got tighter and tighter until I turned and saw Thor a-and dozens of dead bodies. Piles upon piles. Children, old people, all of them dead. Thor was.. was..." The girl suddenly got up, running, heading for the fields that surrounded the house. Clint quickly got up to follow, but Laura stopped him. "Let her, its obvious who her soulmate was.."

Clint growled. "How can we be for sure? Last we heard, he was dead. She wasn't like this when Thor returned with that news." Laura put her hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him to face her. "Remember how I knew that Loki had taken over your mind? That's because you were in danger and I needed to protect you, but I couldn't. I have our children to protect, and that overpowered our link, I felt every inch of pain you've felt. The means Loki has felt our little girls' pain, every scraped knee, the broken arm, the dog bites, all of it. He knows what it's like to feel that protectiveness to someone that wasn't his immediate family."

The two flinched when they heard it, the painfilled scream. The scream made Clint's eyes fill with tears. "I hope he knows how much pain she is in now." Laura gently pulled him close and held him. The two were surprised when they got the phone call.

"I need you to bring Caitlyn to New York. She needs to see Bruce." Tony's voice rang through the cell phone. "No can do, Stark. She's in pain right now." There was clattering and then a few moments later, someone picked up the phone. "C-Clint..?"

Clint sighed softly. "What?"

The voice timidly replied. "It's me, Bruce. I need to see Caitlyn, it's about Loki." Clint handed the phone to Laura and bolted, toward where the scream was only to run into by the teenager. "He's alive!" The teen had fresh tears running down her face. "He's ALIVE!" She sprinted for the house, hurrying up the stairs and inside. Caitlyn was hurrying to get packed so she could go and meet him, it was just one of his clones, she knew he could make clones when she hacked into SHIELD's database to finally get a good look at her soulmate. She skirted around Cooper and Lila. Nathaniel was in his nursery as she bolted for her room, tossing the door open and pulling out multiple piles of clothes and then tossing them into a bag before hurrying back down the stairs, tripping a small bit but otherwise okay.

Caitlyn grabbed the truck keys and waited on the porch, holding out the keys. "Let's go!" Clint sighed and ran up, grabbing the keys, then looking at Laura. "I'll call you when we get on the main road so we can call in a quinjet."

~MANDATORY TIMESKIP~

Caitlyn was sent to New York by herself, in a quinjet. She quietly stepped off it and went still at the crowd staring up into the sky. "What's going on?" Pepper grabbed the girl and pulled her close. "I don't know. Come on, we're taking you to the next safest place on earth." Caitlyn was so confused but go back onto the Quinjet, being seated next to Bruce and grilled him for details on her soulmate, only for him to take her arms. "Caitlyn, he's dead. I watched it. Everyone except maybe Thor is dead."

Her eyes hardened and emotions took over, slapping the scientist with seven PHD's. Bruce gasped and held his cheek, as the teenager looked at her hand in shock. "I-I didn't mean to do that! I'm so sorry!" Bruce rubbed her arm. "Its nothing, don't worry. I understand where your mind is."

"No-one does. No, you don't. You didn't look into the monster's eyes as you started dying, the oxygen in your throat turning into carbon, the feeling of pain circling your entire face, getting light headed. You don't know what it's like to be in that spot. You don't know what it's like to cast your eyes aside and look at the piles of dead bodies, piles of children, and families!"

Bruce went still. His face paling. "So, you saw him." The teenager nodded. "I saw it alright, that monster doesn't deserve a FUCKING NAME!" Her body started shaking as she started crying again, this time curling into Bruce and sobbing into his shirt. The scientist held her, rocking them slightly. Bruce held her the entire time, finding support in the teenager.

Arriving in Wakanda wasn't easy, as it finally took Bruce, personally asking for Natasha for them to get clearance to land. When they finally got on the ground, Caitlyn was the first one out, running toward the Russian woman who had her arms out. The two clattered onto the pavement, tears restarting. The two females, curling around the other in much-needed support was an awkward sight. No one would've thought that Natasha Romanoff would be holding Clinton Barton's eldest daughter, crying. Steve kneeled down beside them and held them, his hand gently running over their hair, murmuring how everything was going to be okay.

Finally, the three of them got up and led Caitlyn into the palace, the teenager saw T'Challa and the first words from her was. "Sam was right, you do like cats." Steve groaned and Bruce full on laughed. T'Challa walked over to her and crossed his arms, then pounding them into his chest. "Wakanda forever." The teenager repeated, the two chatting like the end of days wasn't full on steadily heading toward them.

Bruce pulled Steve and Natasha aside. "She claims that Loki's still alive. What I saw was just a clone, to her knowledge. They're soulmates, we can't stop that. If he is alive and she's on the battlefield with us, and he gets hurt, she'll be down for the count and useless."

Natasha glared at him. "Excuse me, Bruce. Do you know whose daughter that is? That's Clint's kid. She's twenty times better than any archer, we need her on that battlefield and I know Clint will kill me if she gets hurt." Steve looked at them. "Guys, calm it. We still have Wanda and Shuri working on getting rid of the soul stone. We don't need you two fighting on top of all this."

Caitlyn walked over, fidgeting with something on her wrist, smiling. She looked up at them. "Its a bracelet." She stated as if it was purely obvious. The Avengers chuckled softly and ruffled her hair, smiling. "Why don't you go hang out with Pepper at the moment, Cait?" Steve asked.

The teenager scoffed. "Hell, no." She said, looking at them. "I'm going to help here, and if that's going to be a problem, then you can take it up with my supervisor." She gestured to her foot. "He'll ignore it all anyway."

The entire group started laughing, a rare moment of happiness until it all came crashing down. Thanos was attacking and Caitlyn had made it onto the battlefield.

She had on some of Clints very old gear, wearing it with pride as she held a crossbow and shooting down aliens when they broke through the barrier until Proxima Midnight had managed to get her cornered. The teen chuckled. "Come on then! Do it! I've already lost everything to me." She dropped her crossbow and opened her arms. "Kill me."

Natasha heard the yelling and came rushing over, jumping onto Proxima Midnight, shocking the hell out of her while Caitlyn filled the Alien with arrows. She ran out of arrows, Proxima already on the ground, as she pulled out a knife as she jumped back into battle. "FOR EARTH!" She screamed, stabbing aliens as she jumped from back to back until someone grasped her hair and tugged her down to the ground and pointed a knife at her throat, the alien didn't have a good grip so she rolled over and screamed at the pain of the knife slicing up her shoulder. She heard a groan of pain a few feet away but didn't pay attention to it as everyone was either screaming or crying in pain.

Someone tackled the alien off of her and snapped its neck, before helping Caitlyn up. She leaned onto the person before screaming as she realized it was another alien before it shimmered into the one face she'd always wanted to see. Loki. The god healed her before pulling her up and materializing a sword for her to handle. "You can do this love, I promise that you can do this."

Caitlyn, with a new bought of energy, surged out into battle. Her mindset on winning and winning only. She fought and fought until she saw Thanos appear and anger filled her body. "HEY! BARNEY!" She screamed, rushing toward him, only to get tossed back and slamming into a tree, a sickening crack as her head met wood.

Thanos chuckled and headed toward Wanda and Vision, everyone surging to protect them as Caitlyn faded in and out of consciousness. Her eyes trying to focus the battle as she tried to get up only to scream in pain, hearing a similar one across the field, stunned everyone, including Thanos, although it was for a moment. Loki was groaning as he worked on running toward Caitlyn, to heal her, to fix her. The pain was deafening, and the last thing Caitlyn saw was Loki's blue-green eyes meeting hers.

~MANDATORY TIMESKIP~

Loki stayed beside her bed for days, the snap happened they were the lucky few to still have each other. Loki and Thor had chatted as Loki mainly stayed beside her, keeping her safe, himself. Then the fateful day happened, Clint walked into the room, his hair definitely changed but didn't pay attention to the god beside his daughter as he sat down beside her, holding her hand. "I still have my Hawkling. Good."

Clint finally looked at Loki. "Thank you. You've kept her safe even when I couldn't." Loki nodded. "Anything for her. She's still in an immense amount of pain, but it's getting lesser every day and she's starting to open her eyes." Caitlyn heard her father and forced herself to open her eyes and squeeze her father's hand. "Hawkling!" She saw his hair and the look in his eyes and her heart monitor started spiking, forcing Loki to get up. "Out, Barton! You're scaring her."

Caitlyn's eyes shifted from her father to Loki, her eyes softening and a smile appearing on her face, although it was hard when a breathing tube was down her throat. She reached out for the god and instantly the man calmed down and held her hands. "Hello Darling, I don't think we were properly introduced." He chuckled at the blush appearing on her face. He snapped his fingers, flinching softly, and the breathing tube was gone, letting the teenager breath and try to talk. Clint sighed softly and left, his fingers drifting from her arm and to the bed. Loki and Caitlyn silently communicated for a while.

Everything was bliss. Everything was fine. Earth was adjusting, We'd learn to control grief, one day.

[dogbearinggifts]

Elegy, Part Six

A/N: This is part six of a series adapted from an idea by @daughterofthemoon99, where Imelda is the one who visits the Land of the Dead rather than Miguel. You can read previous chapters here: 

Part One      Part Two       Part Three         Part Four         Part Five

The whole fic is also available on AO3.

*******

Imelda nearly ran to the station. There was no reason for her to go, none she had in mind, but it was close and therefore the first destination her mind settled on after realizing she had to go, move, get away.

Héctor was dead.

For years she’d pictured him in the arms, in the home, of another woman—one as naïve as she was wealthy, taken in by his glowing accounts of a mother he seemed to adore, scattered fragments of a father he barely remembered. “Oh, Héctor,” the woman would breathe, leaning toward him as he plucked a few notes on the costly skull guitar. “I had no idea.”

“Now you know.” He’d smile—sad and sweet and just wistful enough to cut to the quick.

Now that image had been pushed aside by that of a skeleton in a worn mariachi suit, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at her in silence.

She slammed the double doors open and strode through. The dead parted for her, eyes bulging and jaws dropping, but she hardly noticed. She could only see Héctor. Twenty-one years of putting him out of her mind and now he was there to stay.

He’d looked so young.

Imelda stopped, did a slow turn on the tile floor. The station was so much bigger than she remembered, and it had seemed enormous when she entered with Almarza at her side. She could get lost in the entryway alone, to say nothing of the halls and staircases and doors leading to offices and more corridors.

She needed to do something.

She’d stormed out of that cubicle and walked all the way to the station with no one’s permission. They would ask, and she would need to give them an answer besides I saw my former husband and ran.

The photos. Almarza’s notes. The dead had paperwork for Día de los Muertos. They’d have it for the rest of the year. The first counter she saw might not have been the correct one, but Imelda slammed her fist against it anyway.

“You have paperwork for when someone dies.”

She didn’t know for certain that they did. It was a guess—an educated one, but still a guess. Years of business experience had taught her that questions were an invitation for a no. Statements weren’t a guarantee of a yes, but they were more likely to earn one.

The clerk drew back as though Imelda had brandished her shoe. “I—ah—sí, Señora. But not here.”

“Where?”

“I—“

She pounded a fist against the counter again. “Tell me where!”

“Up—upstairs. Entry Records. Third floor. But—”

She marched up the first flight of stairs she saw, reaching the third floor without trouble, and glanced both ways for a sign, for anything to point her in the right direction.

It was difficult to say how old the clerk had been at her death. Perhaps the dead, who saw one another on the daily, could more easily determine age from looks, but Imelda had only a guess that could’ve been off by three years or three decades, and likely erred on the younger side. The clerk could be anywhere between twenty and fifty and Imelda would be none the wiser until she asked.

She turned left down the hallway, spotted a sign some meters down. Entry Records was in the opposite direction. She turned on her heel and stormed that way instead.

Héctor couldn’t have been as young as he looked. She remembered a young man, and so a young man was what she’d seen imposed over the skeleton gazing sorrowfully from across the way. Thirty. That was his most likely age at death. Twenty-eight at the youngest. There was no reason he shouldn’t have lived to thirty after he left.

She nearly passed the door with Entry Records printed on its window. Flinging it open, she saw a small entryway and a large desk with a wide space filled with filing cabinets beyond. The clerk’s head snapped up, regarding her with wide eyes.

“I need the paperwork for Héctor Rivera.”

Whether it was the look on her face or the fact a living woman wore it, she wasn’t sure, but the resulting shock was the same. “Perdóname, Señora, I can only give that out to government officials or to family.”

She pounded her fist on his desk. “Familia? I was married to that man, and if you don’t think that is family, then—“

“I’m sorry! I—I just—what’s your name?”

“Imelda Rivera.”  

“Year of birth?”

It seemed they were getting somewhere, but she knew it could be a ruse to keep her sated until a supervisor arrived. “1899.”

“And where are you from?”

“Santa Cecilia, Oaxaca.”

“And is his hometown the same? Santa Cecilia?”

“It is.”

“Un—un momento.” The clerk ducked through the doorway behind the desk; she saw him retreat into one row of filing cabinets before disappearing into another. Metal wheels rolled against tracks; a drawer slammed closed and another opened. She heard the soft thump of a stack of papers hitting the floor, but when the clerk emerged, he was empty-handed.

“When did he die?”

“Do you think I would be here if I knew that?”  

The clerk drew a breath. “When was he born?”

“November 30, 1900.”  

With a quick, nervous nod, the clerk disappeared again.

She didn’t need to see Héctor’s paperwork.

He’d left of his own volition. He’d walked out that door and he’d chosen not to return. The precise date of his death changed nothing about the past twenty-one years. It didn’t erase the long days Coco spent gazing out the window in search of her Papá, or the months of having little more than plain tortillas while she fought to get the zapataría off the ground, or the whispers, the things they didn’t bother keeping to whispers, “We’ve heard you had some sharp words for him the day he left….”  

There was a deep thump as the clerk dropped a stack of folders on the desk.

“If you expect me to sort through those—“

“No! No no no, Señora! I—there are many Riveras, and it’s easier to look through them here.”  The clerk flipped open the first folder, glanced down, closed it and moved onto the next.

Imelda began to pace. Thirty, more likely thirty-five. She remembered a young man and she would have seen a young man no matter what Héctor looked like. He could have been the same age as she and her mind would have shown her the youth who had abandoned his family.

She looked to the door. There would be people looking for her—people she wanted to find. People who could send her home. She’d return without answers, but she’d still return before the night was out. And now that she had a moment to consider, perhaps answers weren’t important after all. She’d lived without them for twenty-one years; another twenty or thirty wouldn’t be insufferable.  

“Did the two of you have a daughter?”

Her stomach did a flip. “Socorro.”

“Year of birth?”

“1918.”

The clerk lifted a sheet of paper from a folder, turned it around and slid it toward her. “Héctor Rivera. Born November 30, 1900 in Santa Cecilia, wife Imelda, daughter Socorro.”

Imelda took the sheet. She found herself leaning against the desk, heart hammering in her ears, as she skimmed past what she already knew, down to the field labeled Date of Death.

December 7, 1921. The same year he’d left. She read it twice, three, four times, but the one did not show itself to be a poorly inked seven, and the two never even remotely resembled a three.

“This can’t be right.”

“I’m sorry?”  

She turned the sheet so the clerk could read. “Here—see? 1921. He died in 1921?”

“Sí.”

A trembling set in, radiating from her core out to her hands. She clenched her calcified fist in a vain attempt to stop the shaking. “But….no. That’s not right.”  

“Our agents are careful to record the correct date at all times, Señora. It’s important that our records show accurate information.”

“It’s not right.”

“I’m afraid that’s what it says.”

Imelda drew one breath and then another, but she couldn’t ease the trembling. “How often does your department record the wrong date?”

“It’s very rare. The date is the first thing any agent fills out. They stamp it, you see? So there’s little chance of them writing the wrong day or year by mistake. At the most, they might forget to change the day, or stamp 1940 instead of 1941 or 1939.”

“Was it that way in 1921?”

“It has been that way for as long as I’ve done entry paperwork, Señora.”

Imelda nearly asked how long that had been, but knew the government’s fondness for paperwork likely predated Héctor’s life—and her life—by at least three centuries.

She turned, resting her back against the desk as she read through the paper again. Food poisoning was listed as the Cause of Death, but she couldn’t focus on it or anything else for long. There had to be something there, some other discrepancy proving the lie stamped beside Date of Death. A name that wasn’t hers listed as his wife. A hometown other than Santa Cecilia. She would have grabbed hold of a misplaced comma and used it to build a case, but there was nothing. Just information she couldn’t absorb, no matter how clear it was on the page.

Héctor had walked out of his home and been swallowed up by the city. One taste of the world and Santa Cecilia, his family and everyone in that town, had lost all the charm he’d claimed to adore. He’d stayed in that wide world awhile, seizing every moment that came his way, tasting all the poisoned fruit it had to offer. He hadn’t died a week after his twenty-first birthday, and she hadn’t seen him earlier. He hadn’t been brought to her as a candidate to send her home, and she wasn’t reading his paperwork now. For some reason surpassing her comprehension, she had become the victim of an elaborate joke.  

“¿E…estás bien, Señora?”

Imelda glanced up sharply. Concern covered the clerk’s face. Her eyes stung; a hand to her cheek brushed away tears, the bone oddly cool against her skin.

Crying. After all these years, all the success in her wake, all the distance she’d placed between herself and that walkaway musíco, here she was weeping like a child. 

She straightened, slapped the sheet of paper back on the desk, and strode out the door. Twenty-one years the question had crouched at the back of her mind—of where his path had led, once he walked out that door. She’d settled for the obvious answer, the only one she could think of, and it had scraped at her every time she heard music, each time she allowed her mind to stray in Héctor’s direction. A love too good to be true had become exactly that.

Imelda headed down the hall at a brisk pace, took the first staircase she saw to ground level. She had her answer. She had certainty. Héctor had left home and died some months later. He’d wandered away from his best friend, his suitcase, everything he had, in the dead of night and succumbed to food poisoning shortly after. The letters had stopped in mid-November, if her memory served; he would’ve been dead within a matter of weeks after wandering off.

It was wrong. Despite all the clerk had said, the whole story was wrong, like a boot with the heel attached to the toe. The details fit together, they formed a coherent picture, but it was like something out of a fever dream—the sort you wanted to forget immediately upon waking.

She brushed through a corridor, sighted the atrium ahead, and quickened her pace. There would be someone from the government there, or on their way; she’d caused enough of a stir on her way in that she wouldn’t be difficult to locate. They’d have someplace to wait for her family, for their blessing.

Even if the guitar meant nothing to him, even if the songs had become nothing more than sweet words to make the women swoon, Héctor would have taken them both to play for tips.

Imelda halted midstep. Of all the details that had been handed to her since the curse took effect, that was the first that made any immediate sense. Héctor wasn’t stupid. He was many things—a liar, a daydreamer, a terminal romantic too passionate for his own good—but an idiot was not one of them. Given the choice between scrambling for odd jobs and the surety of earning a few pesos playing for passersby, he would have taken the sensible option.

“Señora Rivera!”

Imelda paused. There was Almarza, or another photo agent or border agent or some other occupation she couldn’t name, ready to take her back to wait for her family.

Or to inform her they’d already been found.

Julio would be out of his mind with worry. Rosita would be wringing her hands, Óscar and Felipe would be tearing the house apart looking in places she couldn’t possibly fit, or running around town chasing possibilities that would have only been plausible had they been the ones to vanish. And Coco….

Years had passed before she stopped watching out the window or casting long looks down the road. Years had passed since she cried herself to sleep. Imelda had a sneaking suspicion her daughter had never truly stopped, but merely learned to do it more covertly.

For a moment, Imelda saw Coco, not the little girl she’d been but the woman she was, gazing out the window for a familiar figure, a cloud of dust down the road—any signal that her mother was coming home—turning away only when Victoria needed her more than she needed news, even bad news.

Then she saw Héctor, rising in the dead of night to wander off down the road, without a thing to his name. No clothes, no songbook, no guitar, no explanation for the unexplainable. She tried to match that image to the man she’d married, but she might as well have compared two different men.

A living woman in the Land of the Dead wouldn’t be difficult to find. That would serve her well when she was ready to return home, but for now she would need a way around that.

Imelda resumed walking, setting the same brisk pace as before. The voice called her name again, and she weaved through the crowd, ducking her head and praying she wouldn’t be seen.

For better or worse, she needed answers. One conversation. An hour at most, and she’d have them.

******

Héctor hadn’t realized a mansion could be built so fast, but from where he stood, construction seemed to be coming along nicely. Not that where he stood made much difference. It wasn’t visible from every window in the city, but Héctor never had trouble sighting it, whether he stood in Shantytown or one of the rehearsal studios across the way. No matter where he looked, those gaudy white walls were visible out the corner of his eye, and the space between the bridge and the station was no exception.

“Stay close,” was all the officer had said, when Héctor finally found the will to stand. “Just in case.” He’d had little trouble obeying that command; despite the sympathy he’d get from some, he didn’t have the heart to return to the shanties just yet, and with Imelda having gone off toward the station, he couldn’t bring himself to stray too far from her.

But then, there was Ernesto.

His amigo could still be in that cubicle, but chances were good he’d left for his mansion some minutes before. Gone off to supervise construction or while away the holiday in that unfinished palace of his, maybe replay his argument with Imelda.

Imelda, alive in the Land of the Dead, arguing with Ernesto. The whole scenario brought up so many questions Héctor couldn’t verbalize them all. But there was one he could verbalize, one he’d asked since his first attempt to contact his amigo ended with an arm twisted painfully out of socket by those guards.

Why?

Somehow, it summed up everything he needed to say. Why won’t you talk to me? Why the guards, Ernesto? Why didn’t you tell anyone I wrote your songs? Why were you talking to Imelda?

Why didn’t you tell her I died?

As much as he wanted an answer, as much as he might imagine finding one at that mansion, he knew he wouldn’t be allowed within two meters of that place. Maybe he could sneak past, somehow, but Imelda’s words rang through his head and he couldn’t think too far past them.

That ended the moment he left.

He’d promised to return. Promised to come home the first time he’d brought it up, and the second, and the third. It hadn’t become a refrain so much as a final note, something he’d say in an attempt to end each ensuing argument or angry silence on her part. And he’d planned to keep it, too, if only because he hadn’t seen a reason why he wouldn’t.

“Imelda, why do you fret so much? I’ll come back.”

He’d smiled.

He’d laughed.

He’d done it. Stupid accident or no, he’d done it. He’d walked out that door and never returned. Done the one thing he’d sworn never to do, even before courting Imelda. It was a wonder she hadn’t struck him on sight, rather than simply walking away.

She deserved an apology.

It wouldn’t make up for anything. Wouldn’t erase the fights he’d brushed off and the damage he hadn’t lingered to see. But she still deserved to hear it, whether or not she accepted it. A simple apology wouldn’t be enough, but it was all he had.

Héctor turned from the distant, unfinished mansion and set off toward the station.

******

A/N: Enjoying this fic? Read on to Part Seven.

[despiteherself]

Happy international tuffstrid day

a/n - here’s a snippet of the modern conservation au (where the dragons still exist as just like, another lineage of normal species) started working on for rare pair microbang but ended up abandoning for something else. I have lots of ideas and if you wanna chat about it PLEASE do. !! the basic premise is the gang meets on a conservation program working to develop a research station on an island where a night fury was spotted for the first time in several hundred years.

Astrid’s just tired enough she nearly misses Gobber’s welcoming toothy grin in arrivals. Fishlegs’ tugs on her arm, directing to her to their supervisor and leggy brown girl slumped over the uncomfortable airport seats barely holding up a sign that says “BERK INDUSTRIES PTY LTD CONSERVATION EFFORT.” It’s the evening, Astrid’s in jeans and a jumper but this girl’s only in shorts and probably the lightest jumper Astrid’s ever seen. She’s beautiful, in an angular kind of way, like she wouldn’t look out of place crown perched on her head and a queenly cloak. She’s actually in banana print and slouching, but that barely ruins the effect.

“Astrid, Fishlegs!” Gobber says, gruff as he throws his arms around the both of them, drawing them in for one armed hugs. Astrid claps him on the back with her free hand, but begs out of it a second later. “Good to see you’re both here in one piece.”

“How many were you expecting?” Astrid says dryly, only half a joke because her sleepy mind processed the statement as literal. There’s a snort of laughter from the girl under Gobber’s bellow of a laugh, she’s perked up slightly, taking everything in with wide eyes and a vicious little smirk.

“It’s good to see you Gobber,” Fishlegs says, “the lab’s really quiet without you around.”

It really is, without Gobber yelling down the hall about research papers he thinks are ineffectual and bad policy making decisions after his reports have been ignored again. There’s a sort of peace to it, Astrid’s running distribution prediction models and mapping flight paths so it’s nice to not have someone calling out that students asking for help better have coffee or “Will someone look at this fucking conservation budget! Tell me I’m fucking dreaming.” It’s not the same though, Fishlegs’ isn’t into debating the way Gobber and Astrid do, loud and with sailor's mouths. Silent Sven, although a learned researcher and good co-supervisor, is not chatty at all nor understanding of Astrid’s idiosyncrasies and her long hours.

“Yeah,” she says, tucking her field guide up under her arm, “we missed you.”

“You two,” Gobber shakes his head, “you’re gonna make a grown man cry, unbelievable.” He laughs though, shakes it off with a tap to Fishlegs’ shoulder and turns back to the girl waiting at the seats. “This is Ruffnut, she’s one of the locals who saw the Night Fury. Ruffnut, this is Astrid and Fishlegs, my two star pupils.”

“Yo,” Ruffnut says mid head nod, attention on something over their shoulders. Astrid turns to see a boy, carrying a tray full of coffee cups, grin as bright as the sun. He looks like easy charm and recklessness, in the way pretty boys who know they are do.

“Finally,” Gobber helps himself to the mug with BLACK and the sugars in the spare cup holder. He’s half way through stirring his third sugar in before he looks back up. “Tuff, these are Astrid and Fishlegs, two of my conservation students. You two, this is Tuffnut, he saw the Night Fury too.”

“Hi,” Fishlegs says politely, holding out a hand and Tuffnut shakes it probably far to firmly. He offers the hand to Astrid and she looks at it for a moment before shaking too.

“You both look like you need coffees more,” He says, putting down the tray next to Ruffnut. He picks up his own drink, glancing at Ruffnut slurping happily at her own drink. “I can go get more, what do you drink?”

“You’re twins?” Fishlegs asks, the question bursting out like Fishlegs’ questions often do. Astrid expects an awkward hypothesis explanation, rambling coming to a self conscious halt as per usual but Ruffnut and Tuffnut both nod, easy as pie.

“I can get them, it’s fine.” Astrid says, actually responding. Tuffnut’s hand was warm and solid, and Astrid’s been on planes and in airports for the last nineteen or so hours she needs a break from people whilst she’s an irritable mess. She doesn’t actually know where to get coffees from but it’s an airport, it can’t be that hard.

She’s eight strides down the hallway before Tuffnut catches up, hands tucked in his pockets. Astrid glances at him, but doesn’t slow down and they sort of fall into step even though Astrid’s not trying to at all. He doesn’t speak until they’re in line at the closest coffee shop, pulling out a wallet that looks like it gave up on life several years ago. “I’ve got the travel expenses card,” he says and Astrid has one too, anyway.

“I have a travel expenses card, it’s fine.” She says, adjusting her field guide again. “You didn’t need to come with.”

“Sure,” He says. His capulation isn’t worth much when his tone is indulgent, and he doesn’t move from next to Astrid in the line. It’s like he’s going to say something, but the both of them stand in silence. Astrid eyes him, waiting for some kind of statement but nothing is forthcoming.

“What?” Astrid snaps, but before he can answer they’re first in line and being requested to order. “One large cappuccino with one sugar and a large latte thank you.”

“And one of those little open pastries,” Tuff adds, pointing at the last two sad danishes in the display cabinet.

The cashier looks at the sad pastries and bags both of them up saying “it’s on the house,” with a kind of wink Astrid’s learnt is flirty when she protests. Tuffnut pays, even though Astrid goes to get her purse out of her carry on luggage, citing ease of transaction. There’s several minutes of awkward silence, Tuffnut munching on his danish and Astrid gripping her bag straps too tight as flakes of pastry float to the floor.

“That’s unsanitary,” She says, even though germaphobia is more Fishlegs’ thing and really, the coffee shop will be swept when it’s closed or there’s a lull. Tuffnut shrugs, making no move to stop the mess from occuring.

“Did you want the other one?” Tuffnut offers the paper bag, the movement making the bag crunch and crackle annoyingly.

“No.” Astrid’s sharper than she intends, but not sorry for it. Tuffnut seems wholly unperturbed, although back at the lab that sort of tone would have sent other honours students scurrying.

“Your loss,” he says one bite in, “it’s better than the excuse for food Gobber thinks suffices if you don’t go get something specifically.”

“That man would eat salted leather if you put it on a plate like a sandwich.” Astrid remarks and mostly it’s sarcasm but Tuffnut chokes on the danish laughing. It startles Astrid so much her mouth pulls into a tiny smile, like they’re sharing an in joke. The moment’s ruined by two things; Tuffnut actually coughing up some pastry and the coffee order being called.

Astrid gets a cup of water as she picks up the coffees, swapping it for the paper bag before realising that’s what Tuffnut coughed up into. He drinks the water, thumping himself on the chest as Astrid disposes of the rest of half eaten pastry.

“I could have eaten the rest of that,” Tuffnut says mournfully. Astrid decides not to answer any of that, stepping out of the coffee shop area.

[breakingdownsu]

A String of Pearls Chapter Eleven

Author's note: I'm going to be an obnoxious git and spam the link to my novel on Amazon here, for a limited time it's free (and knowing it's there is giving me more motivation to write than I've had for a long time) : https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BGSPPBY

With that out of the way, back to our regularly scheduled angst.

…..

Needs

She had been impressive, once.

She had been a shining beacon on the battlefield for a long time, it was even said that if it wasn't for the four Diamonds being there at the right time she might have become a Diamond herself. An unlucky swipe of a zoatox's serrated tail had been enough to keep her out of the climactic battle and gem history was made without her.

Still, Emerald retired with full honours, more money than she could have ever earned in peacetime and a small measure of political power that she hardly used. A small sector of Homeworld's manufacturing district was under her control, and it was enough for her.

The crack in her gem made her nervous, but she never did anything about it, preferring to pretend it wasn't there. At the start of her retirement, it had only been a scratch, but it deepened every orbit. It ran under her manifested form, where it couldn't be seen without special tools. It was easy to ignore, for a while.

It's just an old war wound. Nothing more. We all have them.

She made a huge mistake on the budget for the orbit quarter, one that sent the factories she had under her control struggling to catch up with the rest of Homeworld. A Kunzite was dispatched to look over the accounts, and she did so shaking her head and muttering under her breath, to Emerald's utter humiliation.

“These are a mess,” Kunzite grumbled. “Half of the spreadsheets aren't filled in and the data that's here doesn't make any sense. How have you been operating all this time?”

“A few things were overlooked,” Emerald shrugged, trying to appear casual.

“Overlooked? This is more like willful blindness,” Kunzite retorted.

That hit a nerve, because Emerald's vision had been warped lately. Everything was hazy and numbers floated when she tried to look at them. She'd thought she had done a good job of hiding it.

“Look, not everyone's got a good head for number-crunching,” said Kunzite. “But Homeworld can't afford these kinds of mistakes. Just get a pearl in to do the spreadsheets and data work, it'll pay for itself in efficiency. You don't even have to get a new one, just a working one.”

“Okay, that's not a bad idea,” Emerald agreed, though she barely suppressed a shudder.

Like many veterans of the zoatox war, Emerald had a visceral dislike for pearls. It only intensified when she heard rumours that they could carry zoatox spawn without being harmed in the process. But really, what choice did she have?

She picked up a second-hand pearl, one that had ended up in the impound and had been resold instead of being liquidated. She couldn't see it particularly well given her vision problems, but she saw enough to know she wanted to be as far away from it as possible. She gave it a dank little alcove to work through the data banks and tried to ignore it.

She still had to bring it home in the last quadrants though, and it was harder to find a corner to banish it to at her apartment, so she left it outside on the balcony until they had to go to work again.

At first, everything seemed to be going well. The pearl's number-crunching got the factory back working on schedule, and it was on alert for any mistakes Emerald was making. But less than an orbit had passed before Emerald realized that it wasn't just her vision that was affected by the crack, but her hearing too. She misheard multiple reports from the assembly line supervisors and the Kunzite was back again, muttering at the data readouts.

“I don't understand....kshhh....happening again, and not even....tpschieeee....checked the pearl, it's working just......kshchiiiitschop........it must be coming from somewhere else,” she told Emerald, half-heard through the haze.

Now, Emerald was afraid. She knew what happened to gems with cracks that couldn't be repaired. Homeworld couldn't afford to let her maintain her lifestyle when she was basically defective. She would be sent to one of the veteran's homes until her gem could no longer support her mass. That was if they didn't decide she was a waste of resources and shatter her right there and then.

She convinced her higher-ups to let her work from home, under the pretense that the pearl was able to crunch the numbers more efficiently from there with better access to the mainframe database. It worked.

For a while.

Then her vision and hearing weren't the only things affected. Her legs were starting to shake as she walked, and her talking was becoming slurred and unintelligible. When she received a contact request from none other than Yellow Diamond, she thought she was finally doomed.

Except, at the last possible moment, the pearl toddled in from its dank little corner, froze the contact image on Emerald's face and imitated Emerald's voice so perfectly even Emerald herself was convinced for a parsec that she was the one talking. The pearl smoothly apologized for any mistakes made and assured the Diamond that her work would be flawless from now on.

It was as good as its word. It took over Emerald's job with an efficiency that was frightening. Emerald didn't even have to speak to anyone anymore, or even appear in public. The pearl ran the entire operation from its little corner of the apartment without fail.

At the start of every cycle, it lifted Emerald gently out of her rest pod, set up her screens to keep her occupied and brought her anything she needed, and at the end of the cycle it put her back in the rest pod. It kept her clean and nourished to the best of its abilities.

Towards the end of her life, Emerald was prone to crying and asking the pearl why it had been so good to her.

“You needed it,” was the only answer she ever got.

…..

Wants

She had always wanted a pearl.

Not just any pearl, because she would have been able to afford one from the black market, or a battered second-hand one from the impound auctions. She wanted the latest one, the best one the market had to offer.

The newest ones were smaller, shinier, more efficient and less likely to break down than any that had come before. Ametrine passed the pearl shops on her way to the factory and on her way back, even though that was a walk that added a good half-quadrant to her journey.

She took to standing in front of the shop window looking in when the newest pearls were released and she spotted one she wanted more than she had ever wanted anything. It was pale yellow with threads of gold running through its long straight hair, and its eyes were a blue so dark they were almost black. It was ruinously expensive, even by pearl standards because it was part of a limited edition.

She could make enough to buy it. She had cut back on almost everything to save money. It wasn't impossible.

Except, the next cycle the pearl had been sold. She'd never really had a chance.

Worse still, she saw it a few cycles later, on the luger with its new owner. It would have to be a Larimar, wouldn't it?

If there was a gem type she could say she hated, it would be Larimars. She had never met a single one that wasn't vain, spoiled and stuck-up. They lived off of the hard work of other gems and their own beauty. They were no better than the zoatox really, at least the zoatox had no choice but to be parasites.

This Larimar was particularly bad, because she was well known to be attached to a Kunzite that had won accolades during the zoatox war and a healthy lifelong pension. That pension was now being spent on keeping this Larimar in gaudy apparel, gallium smoke and expensive trinkets (including the limited-edition pearl.)

“Just forget it,” her neighbouring Spinel on the assembly line told her, after hearing Ametrine complain about it over and over. “What would you do with a pearl anyway? You could barely fit it in your room.”

That was somewhat true...all the assembly workers lived in the factory accommodations in the outer districts, which were just big enough for a rest pod and not much else. The luger brought them in at the start of the cycle and back out at the end, but Ametrine preferred to get up early and walk.

“The new pearls are smaller,” she mumbled by way of an answer. “It would fit.”

“Just barely,” Spinel said. “And the database connection is really weak there anyway, so it would just be like a really nice statue. Seriously, why not just get one second-hand if you want one that badly?”

Ametrine clenched her jaw and refused to speak for the rest of the day.

As luck would have it, the Kunzite who had been partnered with that same Larimar visited the factory to look at their accounts, and as it was just before clocking-off-time, Ametrine was able to follow her home. Strangely enough, Kunzite didn't live in the fancy high-end district but near the docks.

It was almost too perfect. Gems were mugged down at the docks all the time.

She trailed them for twelve cycles, trying to figure out Larimar's routine and when she would be most likely to let her guard down. The chances of her getting away with the pearl were very slim, but it was better than nothing, right? Sure enough, Larimar had a blind spot; she stopped for a smoke of gallium with a friend every two cycles in the same district. She usually left the pearl sitting with another pearl in the quadrangle.

There were holo-recorders mounted around the quadrangle, that's what made gems like Larimar leave their pearls out in the open with no fear that they'd be stolen. But Ametrine had made holo-recorders before in another factory; she knew well how to jam them.

She disguised herself as an off-colour Jade; they were around the same size, and many off-colour Jades were known criminals. After setting up a signal to jam the holo-recorders, it was simply a matter of stabbing the pearl through the stomach to get it to retreat into its gem and pocket it. It all went off without a hitch, nobody even tried to stop her (perhaps just the sheer shock of having something stolen from the quadrangle paralyzed the witnesses.)

The pearl was even prettier up close, when it manifested its form again back at Ametrine's apartment.

“I have been stolen,” were the first words the pearl spoke. Ametrine was taken aback.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” she responded. “I was going to buy you anyway, though, and that Larimar would have gotten tired of you after a while, so I kinda did you a favour...”

The pearl blinked. Its stillness was a little unnerving, come to think of it.

“Our processes are usually wiped when we are stolen,” it told Ametrine bluntly. “Otherwise there's a chance we can be traced.”

“Right, I'll get around to that, thanks,” Ametrine spluttered. It was a real novelty to be given tips on how to be a thief from the object you stole.

The novelty wore off fast. Ametrine didn't really know what to expect, but she got the feeling the pearl...disapproved of her, somehow. It never said anything unless it was asked, and it did exactly what it was told to do, but there was always a glimmer of something underneath, something that sent Ametrine's skin crawling.

She had committed a criminal act that usually resulted in a shattering, to feel like a nobody in the presence of a damn pearl?

The worst part was when she brought it along to social gatherings and there were other pearls there. (She had to disguise it as a regular edition pearl, which took a lot of the joy out of limited-edition.)The pearls sat on the sidelines and didn't talk, but Ametrine still got the feeling they were communicating somehow. Occasionally they would move, just a hand or even a finger, and then she got the feeling they were laughing at her.

In the end, she dumped it outside the impound centre wrapped in a polychrome sheet, and tried to put the whole sorry mess behind her.

[redditnosleep]

I'm A Search And Rescue Officer For The US Forest Service, I Have Some Stories To Tell

by searchandrescuewoods.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 (Final)

It's been way too long since I posted an update, and I'm sorry about that. There's also been some confusion about the new formatting requirements on the board, which I've cleared up. So these next few stories are going to be posted a little differently! They'll be in chronological order, and I'll do my best to tie them into each other as much as I can so it doesn't skip around too much.

When I started out as a rookie, no one had told me a lot about the job in terms of weird things that could happen. I'm assuming this was largely to prevent me from freaking out and abandoning the park. But a few months into my service, when I was still a rookie, a friend and I were drunk at a party, and he opened up a bit: "Yeah, it can get a little crazy out there, I guess. I think the worst are the ones where people die when they just shouldn't, you know? Or when we find 'em dead like ten minutes after someone says they saw them last. 'They were fine when I passed them on the switchback, I swear!' That sort of shit. Like, take this guy who I found one spring out on a really popular trail. Someone comes into the VC freaking about about some guy who's lying in the middle of the path in this giant pool of blood. So we run out there, and we find this guy dead as a doornail. Which he absolutely should be, because the back of his head is like mashed potatoes. The skull is decimated, brains are leaking out like custard filling, and they guy's old so you figure yeah, he probably fell and hit his head. Old people fall all the time, it's no big deal. Except that this area where he fell doesn't HAVE any big rocks. There's not even any stumps or big branches. And on top of that, there's no blood trail, so he clearly died where he dropped. Now that's when you'd turn to murder, but there were people just out of line of sight with the guy. If someone came up behind him and murdered him, there's no way someone wouldn't have heard. And again, even if someone had, there'd be a blood trail, spatter all over the place. But everyone on the scene said it looked exactly like he'd fallen and smashed his head on a rock. So what the fuck did he hit his head on? And then there was this lady I found in a different park about five years ago, back when I was upstate. We found her in the middle of a stand of big junipers, curled around the trunk, like she was huggin' it. We pick her up to move her, and a fucking waterfall comes out of her mouth, splashes all over my shoes. Her clothes are dry, and her hair is dry, but the amount of water in her lungs and stomach was phenomenal. Unreal, man. Coroners report? Says the cause of death was drowning. Her lungs were completely full of water. This, even though we're in the middle of the high desert, and there isn't a body of water for miles. No puddles, no nothing. No signs of anyone else being out there. I mean yeah, it's possible they were murdered. But why go out of the way to do it like that? Why not just stab 'em and be done with it? I dunno, it just sits weird with me."

Now of course, that freaked me out a little. But we were wasted, and I guess I sort of wrote it off as a fluke. I also assumed there was exaggeration there, since, you know, we were wasted.

Now, I don't like talking about this next case very much. It was an awful one that I've done my best to forget about, but of course that's easier said than done. This happened about six months after the conversation with my friend at the bar, and up until that point I hadn't had a lot of really weird shit go down. A few things here and there, and of course the stairs, but it's amazingly easy to get used to stuff like that when it's treated as if it's normal. This case was a little different.

A guy with Down's Syndrome in his 20s went missing after his family lost sight of him on a major path. That was odd in and of itself, because this guy never left his mom's side. She was absolutely convinced he'd been kidnapped, and unfortunately a Ranger who isn't with the park anymore insinuated that no one was going to kidnap someone... well, with that kind of disability. Not very tactful, to say the least. We wasted a lot of time trying to calm her down enough to get information about him, and then we put out an official missing persons call. Because of the urgency of the situation, him being mostly unable to function alone, we had local police come in and help us. We didn't find him the first night, which was heartbreaking. None of us wanted to think of him being alone out there. We assumed he'd just kept wandering, and was staying ahead of us. We brought out helis the next day, and they spotted him in a little canyon. I helped bring him back up, but he was in bad shape, and I think we all knew he wasn't gonna make it. He'd fallen and broken his spine, and couldn't feel his lower half. He'd also broken both his legs, one at the femur, and he'd lost a lot of blood. He was confused and scared while he was alone, so he'd probably exacerbated the injuries by dragging himself a little ways. I know it sounds awful, but while I was riding in the copter with him, I asked him why he'd wandered off. I just wanted something to tell his mother, to let her know it wasn't her fault, because he was fading fast and I didn't think she'd get to ask him herself. He was crying, and he said something about how 'the little sad boy' had wanted him to come play. He said the little boy wanted to 'trade' so he could 'go home'. Then he closed his eyes, and when he woke up again, he was in the canyon. I'm not sure that's exactly what he said, but it was what I thought the gist of it was. He kept crying, asking where his mommy was, and I held his hand and tried my best to keep him calm. 'It was cold out there.' He kept saying that. 'It was cold out there. My legs was frozen. It was cold out there. It's cold in me.' He was getting even weaker, so he eventually stopped talking, and he closed his eyes for a while. Then, when we were about five minutes from the hospital, he looked right at me, with these big tears running down his face, and he said 'Mama won't see me no more. Love mama, wish she was here.' And he closed his eyes and he just... never woke up. It was horrible, and I don't like talking about it. That case was one of the first ones that really rattled me badly.

Because of how badly it affected me, I reached out to a senior Ranger, and who ended up helping me through it. As time went on, and we got to know each other better, he ended up sharing one of his own stories with me. It was disturbing, but it helped to know that I wasn't the only one affected by the things going on out there. "I think this must have happened before you got here, because I think if it had happened while you were here you'd have remembered it. I know it didn't end up in the news, for some reason, but I think most people who've been here long enough know about it. The park sold off a portion of land to a logging company, and it was a really controversial thing. But it wasn't that large or old of a plot, and it was right after the recession, so we needed cash bad. Anyway, they were felling this plot of land, and we get a call that we need to get our supervisors out right away. I don't know why, but they ended up sending me and a few other guys along with the heads, I guess for power in numbers, to see what was up. We got there, and all these guys are crowded around a tree that they've just cut down. They're all pissed off and freaking out and the foreman comes over and says he wants to know what we think we're up to. "What the hell y'all think this is, some kinda sick joke? You've got a lot of fuckin' nerve pulling this shit, we bought this land fair and square!" Well we don't know what the hell he's talking about, so he brings us over to this felled tree and points at it and tells us that when they cut it down, it was just like this, and they'll be damned if they put it there. The inside of the tree was all rotted out and hollow in one spot, and when they'd cut it down it had exposed that chamber, and inside it is a hand. Like a perfectly severed hand. And looks like it's actually fused with the inside of the tree. Well now we think THEY'RE pulling a joke, so we tell them that we don't like being fucked with, and we start to leave, but they tell us they've already called the cops, and that they'll go right to the media if we don't stick around. Well that gets the heads' attention, so they stick around and talk to the police about it. Everyone is denying that they put the hand in there, and besides, how would anyone have even done it? It's clearly a real hand, but it's not mummified or skeletal. It's brand new, probably not even a day old. And it is definitely fused with the wood, you can see that it's coming right out of it. The loggers, they insist that they didn't put it there. Somehow, this fresh human hand ended up fused to the inside of this living tree. The cops have them cut up that section of tree into a movable chunk. Then they take the hand away, and the area is closed off. There was a pretty big investigation, but I know they didn't find get any answers. Now it's become this legend, and as far as I know we haven't sold any more property for logging."

As you all know, I went to a training seminar recently, and heard some amazing and horrible things there. One of the guys I talked to while I was there told me a story when we were all around the campfire one night. We were both pretty drunk, you'll see a pattern here, and we were swapping stories. He told me this one: "Me and another guy were out on a field search because some campers reported screaming noises at night. So we head out there to look for whatever fucking mountain lion has wandered into the area, and I'm pissed. We've had three of them show up in the camping areas that year alone and I'm getting tired as hell of constantly having to deal with them. Plus, I just don't like them anyway. They're a pain in the ass and they're loud and they scare the shit out of me. Fuckin' cats. Pieces of shit. I'm groanin' about it to the guy I'm with and he thinks it's a real fuckin' riot. So we're seeing all these broken branches and what look like dens and we're pretty sure we know where this thing is. I call in and they tell me to confirm if possible, which you know just means they want to you to step in a big pile of shit and use that as proof. I'm not seeing any, though, so I basically just tell 'em to shove it, I'm done. We know that damn thing's out here somewhere, even if I'm not stepping in its shit or inside its mouth or whatever. Guy I'm with wanders off to take a piss or whatever, and I stay behind watching this little burrow under a tree to see if maybe a fox or somethin' is living under it, 'cause I love foxes, man. They're cute as hell. But anyway, I'm watching this tree and I start hearing branches crackling and it's coming from the direction my partner went opposite of. Now I've got my pistol, but you and I both know that's not gonna do shit against a cat. I cock it and holler for my partner to get his dumb ass back, but he's too far and he can't hear me. I stand up and get my sights on where the thing is approaching, and I shit you not, man, I just about peed myself. This guy is coming toward me, and he's back-flipping through the fucking woods. Like, instead of walking, he's doing these crazy fucking back-flips, and I swear to God he cleared every fucking log and bush in his path, it was like he knew right where he was going. I yell at the guy to stop right where he is, that I'm pointing a gun right at him, but he keeps coming, and I just kinda lost it. I shot at the ground in front of him, and it was a dumb fuckin' thing to do, but man I didn't want this guy anywhere near me. When I fired, he was about fifty yards from me, and as soon as the gun goes off, he whirls around and goes off, back-flipping back into the woods. My partner hears my gun go off and runs back and asks what's up, and I tell him there's some fucking weirdo out here hopped up on God knows what, and we need to get the hell out of Dodge. I let the cops know what happened, and I didn't get in any trouble for firing, but man, I don't know what that motherfucker was on but I've never seen anything like that before. Shit was absolutely butt-fuck crazy."

I think we can agree that there's stuff going on out here in the woods, and while I'm not going to spout off about what it could be, or offer any theories, what I want people to take away from all of this is that it is so damn important to be safe when you're out there. I know a lot of you think you're invincible, but the fact is that you CAN die out there, or be hurt, or go missing. It's easier than you'd ever imagine.

I apologize for this relatively short update, guys, I will do my absolute best to continue this series as soon as possible. Thanks for all your continuing support, it means the world to me!