#stop making excuses for your own lack of empathy and start training yourself out of this dangerous habit

[manda-kat]

I think it's important to remember that just because you find someone basic or boring or whatever, you're actually very wrong and they are a unique and layered person with their own complicated life, emotions and interests. They don't have to perform anything to show you how interesting or special they are.

That straight white girl with her stanly cup and sephora makeup doesn't have to show you what makes her 'unique'. The older gentleman who shares conspiracy theories on facebook and mows his lawn early in the morning doesn't have to prove he isn't an 'npc' to you. The woman with the 'Karen' haircut and her son who watches stupid youtube videos don't have to drop everything to demonstrate to you that they can break the stereotypes you've associated with them.

Every person is a real person. Even if you never see them do a thing other than what you expect them to do, they are just as deep and emotional as you are because they are ALIVE! They're real! And they don't owe you a tour into their lives just to prove to you that they have thoughts and feelings! Just because you lack the empathy or understanding to see that someone who doesn't share your same lifestyle, hobbies or stereotypes might actually have a rich and detailed life, doesn't mean you're right.

[miss-tc-nova]

Events Unchanged - Xehanort x Eraqus

So THIS is my final piece for the @checkmate-zine. I had a blast writing it and it’s probably one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever written. Please check out the other creators on this project because they are all absolutely amazing.​

Music Inspiration: End In Tragedy and MIssing You by Set It Off

Art by my queen @kingdomcarrots​

~~~~~

               The castle looms over the young man. This being his first stop, he’s not entirely sure he’s in the right place, or rather, the right time. The description of the place matches up, but he could be anywhere from minutes to decades off with no idea how to tell. Additionally, if he’s jumped even a minute too far, that complicates the whole plan.

               With really no other choice, he climbs the steps to the front door, letting himself in. He’d heard a little of this place, seen a few paragraphs in books, but the Land of Departure is such a small world compared to Scala Ad Caelum. However, this is very obviously an off-shoot of the Scala training school; the only real difference lies in the missing inhabitants. Such spacious halls lack the chatter of students and staff despite the well-kept appearance.

               “Identify yourself.”

               He stops. That gruff voice rumbles with the faintest hint of familiarity. Curiosity piqued, the young man turns back.

               It has to be him; it couldn’t be anyone else. Aside from that traditional style and the Master’s Defender prepared to strike, Xehanort could never mistake those eyes and no amount of hostility could mislead him. There’s no doubt now that Xehanort is far into the future, not while he stares at the aged face of the man Eraqus is to become.

               He looks worn, as if the years have been long and hard and those scars prove nearly as much. That welcoming cheer from their very first meeting has been replaced by sheer apprehension, likely caused by his arduous life. It seems he’s become the soldier his parents always pushed him to be; and yet, surely, he can’t have forgotten his beloved.

               Cautious hands lift to push the hood back and reveal the face hiding beneath.

               Shock takes over the old warrior’s expression. “Xehanort?!”

               “Eraqus.” It’s all Xehanort can come up with in his uncertainty.  

               “How is this possible?!” Resumed suspicion reaffirms that fighting stance.

               First and foremost, Xehanort has a mission, one that could potentially fix everything that went wrong in their lives. They could have everything they lost, including the happiness stripped from them far too soon. Additionally, this is Eraqus, the one who saved Xehanort from self-destruction and gave him the motivation to do all these incredible things. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure Eraqus’s happiness. However, the stubborn blueblood often disapproved of Xehanort’s methods as of late and perhaps that’s only gotten worse as the years passed—perhaps plans should be kept quite even from one’s most precious. Having been caught here in the future, Young Xehanort must pick carefully which truths to divulge.

               A soft exhale calms the nerves. “I’m from the past,” the traveler confesses. “Brought here by the version of me from this time.”

               “How? What for?” Eraqus demands. “What proof do you have for any of this?”

               “I can’t say how or why but…”

               A well-seasoned Master Eraqus is probably not a fight Xehanort wants to pick, but he’ll need something personal to convince this man of the truth. He knows just the memory, but it’s not pleasant.

               Xehanort’s gaze drops to the floor. “You once caught me on the roof of the citadel. You told me…that if I couldn’t find a reason not to step off, then you would make one.”

               Eraqus’s mouth presses into a thin line; they never told anyone of that incident.

               “So what are you doing here?”

               Shaking off morbid memories, Xehanort replies, “Like I said, I can’t tell you that, but I need to find myself from this time. Is he here?”

               Eraqus wears a heavy pity that agitates Xehanort—he may still be young with much to learn, but he’s never taken kindly to pity.

               “You don’t know anything. You just left, didn’t you…”

               “I left Scala several hours ago,” the youth says. That empathy grows. “Why?”

               “You…Your older self doesn’t come by often.”

               This is unexpected. Even as he left, Xehanort fully intended to visit his significant other once he got things set in motion. Besides, Xehanort is greedy—he knows it. He’s got only the sparsest restraint when it comes to indulging in his partner’s presence, so this statement by the man at the heart of that avarice makes no sense.

               “Why not?” Xehanort is not going to remain calm if that look of condolence continues. “When does he come by?”

               There’s a solemn shake of the old man’s head. “He doesn’t.”

               “What do you mean he doesn’t?!” Xehanort barks, leather creaking with tightened fists. “He has to come visit you! He wouldn’t leave forever—not when you’re the person most important to him!”

               The outburst does nothing against Eraqus’s empathy. “I’m sorry. Once you left, we started to view things differently. There were things we simply couldn’t agree on.”

               “Then why didn’t you stop me?!”

               “Nothing I said would’ve convinced you to stay.”

               “No!” he shouts. “There’s no excuse! You should have stopped me! If me leaving made you so miserable, you shouldn’t have let me go! You should have cried or begged or even beat me over the head—whatever it took to make me stay!”

               Tears form in the man’s eyes and that unwanted compassion pushes Xehanort past his threshold. With renewed determination, he stalks past the elder to resume the search for his future self.

               A strong fist catches around the young man’s wrist. “Where are you going?”

               His answer is short, sharp. “To do what I came here to do.”

               For the third time, Eraqus presses, “And what would that be?”

               Xehanort glowers. With a vague restraint in his voice, he spits, “I’m a time traveler; what do you think I’m doing here?”

               “You can’t do that! There must be consequences to meddling with the timeline!” protests the elder.

               “YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?!” the young man roars. “YOU THINK THIS IS JUST SOME STROLL IN THE PARK FOR ME?! OF COURSE I’M TRYING TO CHANGE WHAT HAPPENED AND I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT IT COSTS! IT COULD COST MY LIFE AND I WOULDN’T GIVE A DAMN! THEY DESERVED BETTER! YOU—” Fury falters as the words catch in his throat and the edges of his vision blurs. “You deserve better.”

               Guilt resonates on that marred face; this is why Xehanort never told him. Eraqus had said a million times over that what happened wasn’t Xehanort’s fault, but a deep sadness settled in Eraqus’s heart that was clear to the Seeker. For Xehanort, the loss of his friends was already unbearable enough, but to have the love of his life stuffing down his turmoil behind a flighty façade tipped the scales. So now he’s here.

               With a look of defeat, Eraqus pleads, “Don’t do this. Please.”

               “I’m doing this for you.” Again, the older master begins to argue, but the younger has had enough and pulls away. “You couldn’t stop me then, and based on what I’ve seen today, you can’t stop me now. Take care of yourself.”

               With that, Xehanort leaves.

                 It’s been a few hours since the confrontation, but Xehanort still hasn’t found a single clue to the whereabouts of his present self. He’s hopped a few worlds and even double checked those he’d been drawn to in the past, but nothing comes up. Worst of all, something is pulling him back to the Land of Departure. He can’t shake the feeling that, no matter what Eraqus says, Xehanort would return to him eventually. They must still love each other or else he wouldn’t be here.

               His arrival is noiseless and unnoticed, but with each step closer to the castle, he hears the escalating sounds of a battle. Peering around a pillar across from the castle steps, Xehanort sees Eraqus squaring off with a young, brunette man.

               As he watches, Xehanort notices enough between the two to speculate that there’s a clearly straining relationship. Considering the use of darkness by the younger man and Eraqus’s violent abhorrence of it, Xehanort assumes that’s the cause of the clash. The winner would be an easy call if it were a simple fight, but that boost of darkness significantly closes the gap; so it comes as a surprise when the younger warrior rushes past Eraqus, causing him to stumble. It takes every bit of self-control Xehanort has not to act on protective urges as the Master’s Defender falls from its wielder’s hand.

               Terra, as named by Eraqus, is upset with his success. He cries over it, but his master is the one to apologize, admitting that his own heart is full of darkness. That declaration plays in the gray area of Xehanort’s mind. He already knows Eraqus is a good man with his heart bound to the light. What he doesn’t understand is that light, too, can make mistakes—mistakes which may beget darkness. Xehanort has tried explaining this before, but the noble would have none of it.

               A dark figure at the top of the stairs catches Young Xehanort’s eye too late. A blaring ring fills his ears seeing that man aim a familiar weapon. There’s no time to react; he’s too far away to do anything. Before Xehanort’s very eyes, the man he loves, and should have always loved, fades.

               With the reality of what happened beginning to sink in, his eyes focus on the man strolling down the steps. Anger ignites in his heart until he hears Terra question the stranger.

               “Master Xehanort! Why?”

               Master Xehanort—that man, the very person who killed his beloved Eraqus, is Xehanort himself.

               A dark storm swallows the sky, mirroring the wrath churning in the young man’s chest. With nothing but that rage guiding him, he rushes after the assassin into the dark portal. This new land is empty and barren save the mass of foreboding keyblades strewn about, but Xehanort has other concerns right now. Waiting just outside his attack range is the murderer.

               That man’s voice is filled with the gravel of age, but no remorse can be detected. “I wondered when you would arrive.”

               “You killed Eraqus.” Fists tremble at the young man’s sides, that quivering creeping into his chest.

               “I did.” Only a man scorned like Young Xehanort could withstand those chilling yellow eyes.

               Furious, he yells back, “That’s it?! That’s all you have to say?! How could you?! He was the only reason I didn’t throw myself off the citadel! HE’S THE REASON YOU STILL EXIST!”

               “Ah, the foolishness of my youth.” His casual dismissal drives the young Seeker’s heart rate up.  “It’s true he’s the reason I exist today, but Eraqus’s departure was necessary. You know firsthand how loyal his heart is to the light.”

               The response tears from his throat. “AND THAT’S JUSTIFICATION TO MURDER HIM?!”

               “He just didn’t understand that this is all for him, to create the life that he should’ve had. You knew there were consequences to meddling with time.”

               With no comeback, the young adult sneers, but the old master has one last remark that cuts to the quick.

               “As you said: they deserved better—he deserves better.”

               The words spoken just hours ago, shoved back in his face, incite the anguish burning in his heart. Rationality devolves and Young Xehanort charges his future self.

               All his life, Xehanort let his mind dictate his path. Moves were not made without thought to the consequences, but this—this is something beyond even the purpose of this mission and everything in him is screaming for revenge. Grief and anger cloud his judgement and spur attacks too straightforward to connect, however, that sloppiness doesn’t discourage him.

               Old Xehanort swipes, successfully disarming his younger self, and with the same ruthlessness shown to his former love, he eliminates the man from the past.

               Golden eyes meet gold; even as he’s being dragged back into his own time, the young man emanates his fury.

               Unbothered by the turn of events, the victor simply states, “One day, you will understand.”

~~~~~

               The elder watches his past self disappear among the shadows. It’s unfortunate how naïve he was, but this was to be expected—he and Eraqus had been so in love. Xehanort still possesses those feelings, which is why the decision had been so difficult. There’s a hole in his heart but he understands that sometimes things must be broken for them to become better and that’s the sort of thing the Seeker is betting on.

               In lieu of these unfortunate circumstances, he’s going to have to prepare a backup—to persuade his young self into venturing into the future a second time.

               As the thought occurs, darkness flares from the ground, creating a portal from which steps the young man that just tried to smite him. He’s more prepared than he gave himself credit for. He beckons the young man to follow to discuss the details of their plan. Even as they speak, the senior can see a spark in the new master’s eyes. There’s a curiosity that he will no doubt seek answers for.

               “How is Eraqus?”

               He should’ve known.

               Enacting his hard-earned skill of smothering his emotions, the old man answers, “Eraqus is dead.”

               The youth freezes, clearly distraught. “How?”

               A deep breath conveys true sorrow while concealing the lie. “The same as the others.”

               Hard determination grows on the young man’s face. Knowing that look and knowing himself, old Master Xehanort has ensured his ignorant self’s unquestionable devotion to the mission.

~~~~~

               Despair shakes his heart, waking the young man. Opening heavy eyelids, Young Xehanort finds a room illuminated with soft moonlight. Although this is not his room, it’s still familiar. Normally this place would bring him some solace but the discomfort he feels is intense.

               Whatever this is, it’s akin to a nightmare, slipping from his grasp as he tries to remember; it’s confusing and upsetting and damn near painful. Xehanort has had days where getting up for training was hard, he’s been injured so badly he’s been unable to stand, and he’s suffered unending fatigue at the hands of depression; but none of that compares to the sheer heartache of this moment and he doesn’t even understand why.

               Gentle humming draws his gaze lower and he immediately chokes down a whimper. Pressed flush against him is the love of his life, peacefully snoring away. Even with his messy hair and a little drool, he’s absolutely beautiful. No sight could be more stunning and yet, it’s also the most painful. Whatever vice is clenching down on Xehanort’s heart has to do with Eraqus.

               Of course, Xehanort’s always had those fears that maybe he can’t make Eraqus happy or that maybe he’s not good enough—as quoted by the noble’s parents—but even those feel so trivial compared to this dread. It breaks him more than anything ever has.

               His quivering is impossible to stifle and sniffles begin sneaking past his defense. To make matters worse, his sleeping partner stirs.

               “Xehanort?” Such a sweet sound worsens the turmoil. “Xe, what’s wrong?”

               There it is: the first hiccup that destroys the weary dam holding everything in and he breaks down right there.

               Eraqus doesn’t press for an answer but instead holds his sweetheart tightly. With the unknown sorrow flooding his system, Xehanort sobs into his boyfriend’s chest, desperately hoping to get this misery under control before he has to say goodbye to Eraqus in the morning.

[bookocd]

Light As Air Chapter 6

Hi guys! I know I haven’t updated in a while, but I’m in the middle of a school semester and with my son just learning how to walk things have been hectic. With that said I’m super excited for the chapter after this and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and the next :) Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! 

Tag List:

@wxstedhexrt

@power-of-words23

Summary:

In the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash, Fenrys finds himself connected with a mysteriously powerful fae female. With the confusion of her past and vast amount of power, the Aelin’s court becomes weary of Fenrys’s involvement. 

Fenrys is still reeling after Connall’s death and while joining Aelin’s court has been a dream, his nightmares are still plagued by Maeve. 

Vel will do anything to get the help she needs, but her past controls her emotions, and her hopes for the future clouds her judgement. 

Maybe together they can mend what has been broken, but Vel’s strange origins will continue to keep them apart. 

Link to Master List!

Chapter 6:

Vel felt strange wearing clothes that actually fit her. 

After falling asleep immediately, with one less pillow on the bed, she woke up to a plate of food sitting on a new table along with a wooden chair. The table was placed in-between the two window, which had a beautiful view of the mountains. The food was amazing, bacon, eggs, and toast, which was better than anything she or her family had ever made. No matter the amount of cook books her father could find, cooking was never his or her strong suit. 

Fenrys came to her at every meal, inviting her to join the royal court, and she fabricated reasons to deny every single time. She was surprised at her own creativity, but it became plainly obvious she was lying when her excuse at breakfast was that her stomach hurt, but he caught her doing pushups when he came with comfort food at lunch. He left the room in a huff and in the evening Fenrys had come back and all but threatened to throw her out of a window if she didn’t come down to the great hall for dinner. He also came with something new for her to wear and a comment about her own clothing being lost, which was utter bullshit.

Hence why she was wearing clothing that finally fit. 

She felt more confident in the clothing, but she still fussed at the tan pants and black shirt, as Fenrys led her through the castles hallways.  

“Why do you look so uncomfortable? Are the clothes not to your liking?” Fenrys must have noticed her pulling at the shirt. 

“No no,” she huffed out a breath. For some reason she wanted to talk to him, to let him know why she was fidgeting. “Do you want me to be honest?” 

“Always,” the sincerity in his voice was actually believable. 

“I’ve never worn clothes that actually fit me,” she said quietly. The continued the walk in silence and when she finally had the nerve to look at him, he was already staring at her. He didn’t have a look of pity, which is what she was worried for, but one of pure curiosity. 

“Well I’m sure the boys you met went crazy with you in ill-fitting clothes, so you probably saved yourself some riots,” he said with a cheeky grin. 

She couldn’t help the snort that rose from her and the incredulous look. The truth was on her tongue. The fact that she had not met anyone outside of her family until a couple of years ago, or that she pretended she was a male for all of those outings. Come to think of it, her longest conversations with someone outside of her family, who knew she was a female, were with Fenrys. At that thought, which warmed her cheeks, she opted to stay silent. 

Fenrys led her to a set of double doors and stopped. Not waiting for him, she took a deep breath and went to grip the handle, but Fenrys grabbed her wrist and turned her toward him. His lips were turned down and he seemed conflicted. 

“I want you to know that the moment you want to leave, I will walk you back to your room. While this court is full of my family and friends, they are… opinionated,” he cringed slightly and Vel could tell that was the nicest word he could come up with. “Even with their extreme personalities you have at least one ally at all times. No matter who says what, I will always be in your corner to help and defend you.” 

She was moved by his words and he still had a hold on her hand. As she stared at him, his face started to lighten and his thumb started to rub circles on the protruding misshapen bones of her hands. It was his lack of reaction that stirred her into a panic. She needed to keep him at arms length and never wanted to be seen as weak.

She forcibly removed her hand from his hold. 

“I can defend myself,” she said and immediately regretted it. His small smile vanished.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you will be severely outnumbered in there.”

Then she found herself smirking, her face changing into the mask she wore so well. His eyes widened at whatever her face was expressing, but not even he knew the extent of her own training or what she was capable of when provoked.  

“You know nothing.”  She turned away from him and opened the double doors. 

—

Fenrys was more confused than ever. This female was a giant question mark. He had seen her scared, panicked, calm, confident, and he also had seen kindness, pain, sincerity, and empathy, but the female that just looked at him wasn’t any of those things. She looked almost ominous, with a viscous smirk and her eyes wandering to each person in the room. He didn’t even know her real name, but he knew that this act wasn’t real, she was playing the part she thought was required to survive. 

Fenrys quickly followed her into the great hall. There was a large rectangular table in the center of the room, where every member of his court was now siting, except for Lorcan and Ren, who were both probably sulking somewhere. No one sat at the head, so the center of the table was very crowded. Aelin and Rowan sat the farthest away from the door and both halted their forks as Vel walked forward and suddenly stopped when she caught sight of Lysandra. The shifter was the lounging in her snow leopard form, purring, while being pet by Aedion. She was literally laying on the table. Fenrys was only glad that the shock of seeing Lysandra had taken the intense look off Vel’s face. 

“Vel meet Lady Lysandra,” Fenrys said, while putting a hand on the small of her back. The cat inclined her head slightly and then went right back to her cat nap. “And the one petting her is Aedion,” Fenrys continued as they made their way toward an open seat. “You know Aelin and Rowan,” he nodded his head at the couple. Vel gave them a small smile, but it was gone within a second. She took a seat next to Elide, who introduced herself and started some small talk. Fenrys took that opportunity to make two plates of food for him and Vel. He grabbed chicken, vegetables, and bread. Taking the seat across from Vel, he slid the plate toward her. She murmured a thank you. 

The room was filled with silence. The only sound was that of forks against plates and chewing. Fenrys didn’t know what to do. This court was many things, but quiet was not one of them. 

Fenrys was about to open his mouth, to say what, he had no idea, but it was abruptly cut off by the door opening once more. 

Lorcan walked through and halted only a foot inside the room. His eyes were wide and wildly moving between Elide and Vel. 

“Why in the hell is that female sitting next to Elide?” He spat out the word female, and Fenrys body heat spiked at the tone. 

“Where did you want her to sit Lorcan?” Aelin asked with her brows raised. 

“Preferably in a cell,” he said quietly, never taking his eyes off Vel. 

Fenrys almost started in on him until he saw Vel. She was sitting at her seat, and still eating her food, completely ignoring Lorcan in his entirety. She must have felt Fen’s eyes, because she finally looked up from her plate. 

His gaze must have held only questions, because she said, “What? I don’t respond well to stupidity.” 

Silence filled the room again, and Fenrys was sure the room had not felt this type of atmosphere since the end of the war. It wasn’t until Elide, Elide, started to chuckle that the tension broke. 

She gazed lovingly at her future husband and said, “She’s got you there Lor.”

Lorcan didn’t look amused as he moved forward to sit on Elide’s other side. He stopped only slightly as he passed Vel. Fenrys could barely make out what he said. 

“You even touch her and I will fucking kill you.”

Vel did react to that. Her whole body went stiff and she halted her chewing. Fenrys’s fear for what she would do overcame his anger toward Lorcan. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Lorcan stopped dead in his tracks at Vel’s gravely words. 

The whole room froze. 

“What did you say?” Lorcan’s question came out as a growl. With a noise like that, Fenrys was left wondering how the male didn’t have an animal form. 

“I said do not make promises or threats that you can’t fucking keep,” Vel answered, her dark eyes near glowing. 

“Okay guys this is—” 

Aedion’s reasoning was cut off by Aelin. “No. I want to see this play out.”

“Aelin!” Fenrys found himself shouting. 

Vel and Lorcan were staring at each other. Lysandra looked like she was ready to pounce. Rowan and Aedion were giving Aelin a “what the fuck” gaze, and Elide seemed absolutely terrified. 

One step from Lorcan was all it took for Vel. She was out of her seat faster than Fen had even seen anyone physically move. Fen found himself standing as well, trying to gauge the situation unfolding in front of him, but for some reason he wasn’t scared. He had this sudden sense that Vel could take care of herself, so the only emotion left was anger. Anger for how much of a fucking idiot Lorcan was. 

Lorcan cocked his head to one side, scanned Vel’s body, and scoffed. 

She stepped forward and clasped her hands behind her back. Walking toward one side, she all but floated to Lorcan’s left side. Vel circled him, giving him a wide girth, but circling him all the same. His cockiness was the only thing that allowed her to do this, and Fenrys felt like he was watching a vulture, stalking an animal that didn’t yet know it was about to die. She ended her walk back where she started. 

It was then that she turned and gave Fenrys a mischievous grin. He got way to turned on by this.

“How do I say throughly unimpressive, so he will understand.” Fenrys felt his lips move upward into a huge smile. Her eyes sparkled at him.

Lorcan was fuming and started toward her. Vel quickly turned from Fen and then everything happened at once. Fenrys was flying across the table, Elide was jumping out of her seat, Rowan and Aedion had swords in their hands, Lysandra was back on her hunches ready to pounce. All the court members in that time period were rendered useless when Vel leaped into the air. Her arms were wrapped around Lorcan’s middle, propelling her legs behind him. Her whole body followed and suddenly in her movements to surround his body, her legs were closing around his throat. The momentum she had gained allowed her to throw the huge fae male to the ground, landing squarely on top of him. The fork she had been eating with was suddenly pressed to Lorcan throat. The court was standing, speechless around the two. Fenrys slowly moved toward Vel and whispered her name. She whipped her head to meet his gaze, she looked absolutely savage. Fenrys was instantly hard. A cough had her looking back at the male under her. 

“Now let me explain something to you,” Vel sounded breathless. “I was able to pin you, in a matter of seconds, without the use of my magic. Now I know you will probably excuse this by being surprised, but I could do this again when you are fully prepared.” She removed the fork from his neck and gracefully spun and stood up. 

Vel surveyed the members of the court, who all except Aelin, looked ready for battle. Aelin, of course, look absolutely delighted. 

Fenrys had the sudden need to be at her side when she addressed the group, but he pulled on the urge. She obviously didn’t want or need his help, no matter how much he desired to give it.

Vel took a deep breath and Fenrys thought he felt a spike of her power, but it was quickly distinguished. 

“I know that you do not know me, and some of you probably do not wish too,” she gave a pointed look at Lorcan, who had been joined on the floor by a kneeling Elide. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, but as I just demonstrated I can defend myself and will, without hesitation.” 

The female turned toward Fenrys, looking at him under long black eyelashes. “I do not even know what I’m still doing here, but one word from you and I will go.”

Dread piled in the bottom of his stomach and he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, fuck no you aren’t going anywhere, but he was cut off by his queen. 

“Fuck no you aren’t leaving. Things were getting a little boring around here.” Fenrys grinned at Aelin, and it only grew as she continued. “You have to teach me that move so I can use it on Rowan,” she elbowed her husband playfully.

She walked forward and grabbed Vel’s arm pulling her toward the door, Vel looked over her shoulder with a look of both excitement and fear. Fenrys couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Aelin whisper, in a voice she knew everyone could still hear, “When I say use it on Rowan, I mean in bed, so don’t be worried about the buzzards safety.”

[knives-out20]

Inglourious Boyfriends - Part 5

Fandom: Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Pairing: Joshua Margolis (OC) x Lt. Aldo Raine

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: Spoilers For Inglourious Basterds,

Note: Part 5, Lads. Shows How Joshua Is Clever, Meaning He Can Catch Onto Other Peoples’ Ideas Quickly. He’s Also Empathetic, And Is Able To Sway Aldo To Do, Or Stop Doing, Something.

Bridget Von Hammersmark groaned in pain as the needle injected its fluids into her body, fist covering her mouth in a failed attempt to muffle herself.

Aldo walked in, sleeves rolled up to his biceps."Not so goddamn fast, doc. Tell 'im to go play with his dog" he spoke, Donny and Joshua following him inside. Aldo pat the doctor as Hammersmark spoke to him in French, the doctor quickly dropping his equipment and going to sit by PFC Utivich. Aldo turned to Joshua, gently nudging him back to give himself room. He put his hands on the doctors equipment table, wasting no time and pushing it aside harshly, crashing it into the wall. Aldo angrily kicked the small stool the doctor sat on, Joshua taking another step back in fright. 

Donny stood menacingly over Bridget on one side of the table, his back to the barking dogs, as Aldo leaned his arm onto the table, his other hand on his hip.

"Before we yank that slug out ya, you need t'answer a few questions" Aldo said.

"Few questions about what?" She asked, gaze going from Aldo, to Donny, to Joshua.

"About I got three men dead back there. Why don't you try tellin' us what the fuck happened?" Aldo asked.

"The British officer blew his German act and the Gestapo major saw it" Bridget answered.

"Before we get into who shot John, why'd you invite my men to a rendezvous in a basement with a bunch of Nazis?" Aldo inquired, tilting his head.

Bridget shifted uncomfortably."I can see see since you didn't see what happened inside, that the Nazis being there must look odd".

"Uh, y-yea, we got a word for that kind of odd in English. It's called suspicious" Joshua piped up, hands behind his back as he stood at attention. He looked away when Aldo pressed the bullet deeper into Bridget's wound, having her moan in pain, louder than before."Aldo-".

"I know what I'm doin' Josh" Aldo held up his other hand, taking this as an excuse to look at his dearest.

"Everybody needs to calm down, you're letting your imagination get the better of you" Bridget strained, exclaiming again when Aldo pushed the bullet in deeper.

Joshua crossed his arms, shutting his eyes and turning his head away as if a lack of sight would dim down his hearing, too.

"You met the sergeant yourself. Willie. You remember him, don't you?" Bridget struggled, gripping the side of the table.

"Yea, I remember him" Aldo scoffed, taking a glimpse of Joshua's physical empathy. He also remembered how gentle Josh was, with treating the scar on Aldo's neck after the attempted lynching, back when Joshua and him fought the KKK one time. Aldo loves how Joshua's always been there to tend to his wounds, which have ranged from scratches on his knees after playing in parks when they were kids, to digging bullets out from his shoulder in more recent years. He inhaled slowly, exhaling at the same speed when he listened to Bridget.

"His wife had a baby, tonight. He had just become a fa-" Bridget squeezed her eyes shut, "he had just become a father!".

Joshua, from time to time, liked to imagine someone saying that about him, 'he had just become a father'. A soft smile graced his lips, in the worst moment possible. He always smiled, each time he thought about himself being a father. The idea of Aldo and him taking in a kid as their own, a little boy or girl the two of them could train to kick Nazi ass and fend for themselves. Joshua opened his eyes, catching Aldo looking right at him. He saw a knowing look in Aldo's eyes, automatically knowing that Aldo knew what he was thinking of.

Aldo hummed, turning his attention back to Bridget. 

"His commanding officer gave him and his mates the night off to celebrate" Bridget shakily breathed, groaning again."The Germans being there was either a trap set by me, or a tragic coincidence. It couldn't be both" she pleaded.

"Aldo..." Joshua called, in a tone that meant for Aldo to leave Bridget alone.

Aldo glanced at Joshua, looking back to Bridget with an arched brow before finally pulling his finger out. He took the handkerchief Joshua offered him, wiping his finger of blood as Bridget grunted."How'd the shootin' start?" He asked, glaring at all his Basterds, so that no one would take this as an opportunity to crack a joke about how Joshua's tamed Aldo the fucking Apache (a joke they make quite a lot).

"The Englishman gave himself away" she started.

"How'd he do that?" Aldo pressed, squaring his shoulders as the light hit him in a threatening way.

"He ordered three glasses" Bridget croaked, holding up three fingers in a way where her pinkie and thumb touched."We order three glasses" she clarified, holding up her thumb, pointer finger and middle finger."That's the German three, the other looks odd".

"So, uhm, t-that whole standoff happened 'cause he held up three fingers in a weird way t'order three drinks?" Joshua scoffed.

"It's much more serious than you think, especially nowadays” Bridget huffed."The Germans would, and did notice".

Aldo looked off in thought, pushing himself off the table."Okay, let's pretend there were no Germans, and everything went exactly the way it was supposed to" he imagined, going to lean against the doorway by Joshua."What was the next step?".

“Tuxedos." Bridget went to the point, suspiciously eyeing how close Aldo stood with Joshua."To get them into the premiere wearing military uniforms with all the military there would've been suicide".

Joshua pulled a quick sturgeon face in agreement.

"But, going as members of the...German film industry-".

"They wear tuxedos a-and- and fit in with everybody else!" Joshua cut Bridget off in conclusion, snapping his fingers."Eureka-- oh, uh, s-sorry, ma'am" he apologized, stepping closer to Aldo.

"No, it's fine, you're right" Bridget breathed heavily, catching Aldo smile down at Joshua with a certain air of adoration."I arranged for a tailor to fit three tuxedos tonight" she recalled.

"How'd you intend to get 'em in that premiere?" Aldo questioned, turning back to Von Hammersmark with a less positive gaze.

"Hand me my purse" Bridget instructed, Hirschberg obeying as Aldo walked back over. She dug inside her purse, everyone watching intently as she handed it to Aldo, who fished out a small card of paper."Lieutenant Hicox was going as my escort. The other two were going as a German cameraman and as his assistant".

Aldo inspected the paper, showing it off to Donny, then Joshua."You can still get us into that premiere?" He asked.

"You speak German better than your friends? No. Have I been shot? Yes! I don't see me tripping the light fantastique up a red carpet anytime soon. Least of all, by tomorrow night" Bridget groaned.

"Uh, a-actually, miss" Joshua respectfully cut in, pushing himself off the wall and walking over."I don't mean t'brag in front of my fellow Lieutenant," he glanced to Aldo, "nor my fellow soldiers, but I happen to be fluent in many languages other than English. French, German, Dutch, 'n' the list goes on" Joshua timidly listed, rubbing his left arm with his right hand."If you still wish for us to cover as German, I could do most o'the talking".

Bridget offered Joshua a fake smile, nodding curtly.

The dogs started barking as Aldo clattered something aside on a table, leaning against it as he kept his eyes on the paper. Finally, he slammed the paper down onto the table in defeat, hand on his hip.

"However, there's something you don't know" Bridget teased, Aldo slowly turning to face her, at that. She grinned, "there've been two recent developments regarding Operation Kino. One, the venue has been changed from The Ritz to a much smaller venue".

Joshua's lips parted, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he glanced up. He caught Utivich's and Donny's gaze, the three of them exchanging glances of disbelief with each other."Uh, e-enormous changes at the last minute? That's not very Germatic" Joshua pointed out, as he went back to leaning against the wall by the door. 

"Why the hell is Goebbels doing stuff so damn peculiar?" Aldo asked, turning to fully face Bridget.

"It, uhm, it- it probably has something to do with the second development-?" Joshua suggested, a more friendly nod of correction coming from Bridget.

"Which is?".

Bridget sat up."De Führer is attending the premiere" she let out, Joshua's breath hitching.

"Fuck a duck!" Donny cursed, hitting the table Bridget was on.

As the dogs barked, Aldo leaned back against the table, pursing his lips in thought.

"What are you thinking?" Bridget grew curious.

"I'm thinkin’ gettin' a whack at plantin’ old Uncle Adolf makes this horse a different colour" Aldo replied, Joshua nodding along in an understanding manner.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bridget squinted her eyes in confusion, Aldo turning to Joshua to explain.

"Joshy".

"Yes, uh, yes sir" Joshua nodded, turning to Bridget yet again."It means you gettin' us in that premiere".

"I'm probably going to end up losing this leg" Von Hammersmark hissed, making Joshua flinch in surprise."Bye-bye acting career, fun while it lasted. How do you expect me to walk the red carpet?" She inquired, glaring daggers at Joshua, who was visibly uncomfortable with the anger targeted towards him.

He hugged his elbows, glancing to Aldo for help.

"Easy on my right-hand man Joshua o'er here, it was my idea, blondie" Aldo put his hand up, walking over to Joshua and standing by him protectively."Doggy doc's goin' to dig that slug out ya gam" he snorted, "he's gonna wrap it up in a cast, and you got a good how-I-broke-my-leg-mountain-climbin’ story; that's German, ain't it? Y'all like climbin’ mountains, don't ya?". It was almost laughable, how proud-of-himself Aldo looked at this new plan.

"I don't. I like smoking, drinking, and ordering in restaurants. But I see your point" Bridget nodded sarcastically. She tilted her head, eyes wandering to Aldo's arm around Joshua's waist.

Aldo quickly snuffed some more tobacco, putting his small box away before speaking again."We fill you up with morphine 'til it's comin' out yer ears, and just limp your lil' ass up that rouge carpet" he grinned triumphantly, as if his plan would be able to solve world hunger.

"I know this is a silly question before I ask it, but, can you Americans speak any other language than English?" She asked, leaning back."Asides from 'Joshy' over here-" Bridget coughed, nodding towards Joshua.

"Don't call him Joshy" Aldo growled, his hold on Joshua's grip tightening."I love you" he whispered, against Josh's ear.

The corners of Joshua's lips quirked up into a smile."I love you too, Aldo".

"We both speak a little Italian" Donny piped up, referencing himself and Aldo.

"With an atrocious accent, no doubt. But that doesn't exactly kill us in the crib. Germans don't exactly have a good ear for Italian...You, Joshua, you said to me earlier how you know many languages. What about you?".

Joshua's eyes widened a bit, eyebrows raising at attention."Uh, uhm, well- I, uh, actually..." he turned to Aldo, then Donny, and everyone else, all eyes on him."I was unfortunate enough to not exactly have Italian be a part o'the list o'languages I know".

"Goddammit, Josh, are you serious?" Donny howled.

"Joshy, y'gotta be kiddin' me. You grew up in that fancy mansion of yer's, been learnin' to hunt with guns since you were five, use bombs since you were ten, and learn languages since before all that, and yer tellin' me neither yer mom nor yer pops ever put a lil' Italian in ya?" Aldo exhaled, looking at Joshua, dumbfounded.

Joshua nodded shyly."Mhm. I-I've got almost every other language in my head, you guys. Polish, Hebrew, Welsh, even Spanish, but I doubt that that'd be any at all useful? I got Russian, Portuguese, Japanese, Turkish, too. But no one in m'house spared the light of day for Italian if I was already learnin' Spanish".

Aldo kept his focus on Joshua, trailing his hand up to pat Joshua's shoulder.

"So you mumble Italian-Spanish bullshit and brazen through it, is that the plan?" Bridget gave them a 'you can't be serious' look.

"That's about it" Aldo shrugged.

Bridget nodded, "that sounds good" she mumbled.

"Sounds like shit, what else are we gon' do? Go home?".

"No, that sounds good. If you don't blow it, with that, I can get you in the building...Who does what?" Bridget clarified, looking around.

"Well, I speak the most Italian-" Aldo glanced at Joshua, "so I'll be yer escort. Donowitz speaks the third most, so he'll be yer Italian cameraman. Omar, fourth-most, he'll be Donny's assistant, like Josh'll be mine".

"An escort's assistant-?" Bridget questioned.

"Listen, lady we're in the middle o'some kinda world war with Jews runnin' around and Nazis huntin' after them, destroyin' everything that gets in their way. What's wrong with escorts havin' a lil' extra protection and assistance, huh?" Aldo pointed out.

Omar snapped his head in Aldo's direction, caught off-guard."I don't speak Italian".

"Like I said, fourth-best. Just keep yer fuckin' mouth shut-" Joshua cut Aldo off by snorting, "In fact, why don't you start practicin' right now?" Aldo grinned, looking down at Josh, who was holding back laughter.

[justsomebucky]

The Only Exception (Part 7)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,190 (sorry)

Warnings: language, mentions of injury, mentions of trauma, some confrontations, Sam being precious, reader self-reflection, mentions of threats, creepy emails

A/N: Guess who’s back…back again…Reader decides to take control of her life and do what she thinks is best. I really liked this part. That’s probably why I went a little crazy.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

You kept your eyes focused on the young woman across from you, though she wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Today was the first day you were allowed to sit in on a group therapy session, so you started with Dr. Coulson. He was a very serious man, which you learned quickly after making a Dr. Phil joke that didn’t go over so well.

Anyways.

You had just finished your trauma certifications last week, and you decided to start your shadowing sessions with something you weren’t familiar with: work-related injuries and trauma.

Dr. Coulson was employed part-time at the Red Wing community center, using his knowledge as a medical professional to help those with major injuries or extensive medical work cope with the changes to their bodies and minds.

It was an interesting choice, but you realized about five minutes into the session how essential it was to hear from someone who understood the injuries to answer questions honestly, instead of someone who just wanted to make them feel better about them.

The young woman across from you, an Army veteran who was medically discharged, was just one of seven that were circled around you and Dr. Coulson. Each person had a visible wound that contributed to their emotional pain, and you found yourself unable to think of ways to comfort or help them.

Seriously, you were drawing a blank. The empathy was there, but you had no clue how to help.

Thank goodness you were here to learn.

“Mara.”

She looked up and met Dr. Coulson’s eyes at the sound of his voice.

“You can talk about it here, Mara. I’m here to help, and Y/N is here to learn to help. The rest of your session-mates are here for help, just like you. No one is here to judge you.”

Mara’s eyes skimmed the faces around her, finally landing on yours. You kept your face neutral, though you felt so deeply for this woman that you wanted to cry.

But, that would be unprofessional, and you were no longer an overemotional, unprofessional person.

Her eyes flitted back to Coulson’s. “I have pain sometimes,” she admitted. “Where my leg used to be. Isn’t that weird? I’ll wake up in the middle of the night with searing pain in a leg I don’t have anymore.”

Dr. Coulson nodded. “It’s called Phantom Limb Pain, and approximately eighty percent of all amputees experience it.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Coulson shifted a little in his seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. That little motion was like that of a parent talking to a scared child, though it bore no condescension. “Most experts think it’s caused by mixed signals from your brain to your spine, and vice versa. It could be damage to nerve endings nearby, causing neurological misfires. In other words, it’s not ‘all in your head,’ Mara.”

Mara nodded, looking down again.

Your eyes followed her line of sight to her left leg, which was amputated just below the knee. Your heart ached for her, but even more than that, you admired her courage and perseverance.

“What can I do to stop the pains? Can I- will therapy help?”

“I think therapy, along with keeping track of what triggers your pain, could help immensely,” Coulson replied, his voice still gentle. “If you notice patterns, keep track of them. For instance, if you sleep on one side more than the other, and you still have pains at night, then write it down. If cold bothers it, write it down. The more information you can take to your primary care physician, the more they will be able to narrow down why this is happening and help you treat it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Coulson,” she murmured. “That’s all I had.”

“Okay. I think that’s just about all our time for today. Thank you for being here and for sharing. We can all benefit from knowing and caring for each other. I’ll see you next week, same time.”

A chorus of agreement sounded around the room, and you stood and waited to the side while everyone else shuffled out the door.

Dr. Coulson turned to you with a polite, curious smile. “What did you think, Y/N?”

“I think you and everyone at this center do some amazing things,” you answered honestly. “I’m glad to be a part of it, and to try to make a difference in someone’s life.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I don’t expect that you’ll be specializing in injury-related therapy, but I think you have a knack for it, a real empathy that the world is lacking these days.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Please, call me Phil. Just not Dr. Phil.”

You chuckled, turning to follow him out the door into the main hallway. Phil said a hurried goodbye, trying to get back to the hospital for his shift, while you sort of meandered around until your next session.

The next group that you would be in was a session with Sam, and it was going to be more of your kind of expertise. The participants were of victims of trauma that wasn’t caused by work, but was often triggered by it. You hoped to have a session of your own with them someday, because you were good at finding a root cause to reactions and behaviors. At least, you liked to think so.

You waited patiently outside the darkened room, leaning back against the wall. Your mind was racing with all the things you’d heard and learned today.

A familiar voice ended your reverie.

Sam was speaking, but that wasn’t the voice that did it.

You were almost afraid to look, but you did anyways. Bucky Barnes was strolling down the hallway beside Sam. They hadn’t noticed you yet, but to get to the exit, they had to walk past you.

You felt your stomach do a little flip when Bucky’s eyes met yours. He faltered a bit in whatever he was saying to Sam, who naturally picked up on it right away. Damn him for being so observant.

“Y/N,” he called out, walking over to you, with Bucky lagging behind him a little. “All ready for the next group?”

“Waiting patiently,” you replied, forcing a small smile to your face.

“I was just finishing up with Mr. Barnes here. He tells me that he knows you personally?”

Your smile fell. Why would he mention that to Sam? In fact, what was he doing here?

As if Sam knew what you were thinking, he explained himself. “I ask permission from all the session participants before I have someone new sit in for training. Barnes has been coming to this center for years. When I said your name, he mentioned that he knew you, and I thought maybe that was a conflict of interest. I didn’t want him to feel awkward, so I had his session one-on-one today.”

“Ah.” You felt like an ass now. There’d been no reason to jump to conclusions like you did. Bucky had a life, had personal stuff to deal with outside of you.

You had to stop reacting badly to things where he was concerned. It wasn’t like he’d carried out his intentions, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to make amends. Someone like Sam wouldn’t put up with a bad man.

Bucky wasn’t a bad man.

“How are you, Y/N?” he piped up quietly, moving out from behind Sam. His blue eyes didn’t reveal any emotion, though they were a little red-rimmed.

Your heart ached again, remembering that the restaurant burned down recently. He must have been talking about it in his session. “I’m all right. How are you?”

“Fine,” he answered. “I’m sure…you probably saw the news.”

“I did. I am really sorry, Bucky.”

“Let me just interrupt for a second,” Sam interjected. “I have to go see Sharon about something. Please excuse me. Good to see you again, Bucky.”

“You too, Sam. Thanks for accommodating me today.”

Sam nodded, then turned and left the two of you alone.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeated. “I saw you on TV that night. You saved her life.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hesitated to try to save someone, family or not.” Bucky looked away toward the door, and you knew he was longing to escape this conversation. “Anyways, the chief confirmed that it was a grease fire. It was just an unfortunate accident.”

You shifted on your feet awkwardly. “Do you think the Foundation could help her?”

“No.” He still wouldn’t meet your eyes. “What I mean is, I’ve taken care of it. She’s staying with me while the insurance sorts things out. She might not have a restaurant anymore, but at least she’s got a comfortable apartment.”

“That’s good. I’m glad she has you.” There was a brief pause, but you couldn’t stand silence right now. “Have you been coming here a long time?”

“I have, ever since it opened here in Brooklyn. Partly for how close it was to work, but mostly because they deal with first responders.”

“I work here now.”

“Yeah, Sam told me. Listen, Y/N, before this gets any more awkward, I wanted to apologize again. I haven’t been myself in weeks. Between my ex, my anger, the idiotic plan, the even more idiotic declaration of love…Natasha meant well, but I don’t think I was ready for that either.”

You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes finally flickering back to yours. So, Natasha had been the one to coax him to call in and say something. That figured.

“I know what you’re thinking, and no, she didn’t tell me to say that. She just told me that a grand expression of my feelings might help. I panicked and blurted that out. I don’t know how to grandly express myself these days without screwing everything up, it seems.”

You brows furrowed a little. “Emotions aren’t things to mess with. I learned that the hard way at work.”

“I know that,” he agreed readily. “I know. I’m not excusing what I did by any means. I learned the hard way, too, through losing you.”

Your stomach did a couple of those crazy flips again. “By the time you called in, I was already on the Embarrassment Train to Unemployment. I said some crazy shit on the show, too, and messed with peoples’ lives. Natasha helped me realize that I wasn’t treating people well, either. We both have some growing up to do.”

“I, um…” He paused again, looking down at his shoes, his face somber. “Do you remember what I told you before? I thought being a firefighter would be a way to cope with my sister’s death, but it turned out to be a trigger, sometimes.”

“That isn’t uncommon,” you offered, trying to sound helpful like Dr. Coulson.

He nodded, but kept his gaze on anything but you. “So anyways, I started therapy at a private practice first, then I switched to Sam’s group. I sort of slacked off for a while, thinking I was better, but lately I’ve realized that I still need to work through some stuff.”

“Therapy is good for everyone, I think.” He was trusting you with this revelation, something that both amazed and encouraged you. Maybe you should have a one-on-one with someone, too, for your own issues.

“It is,” he agreed. “Sam and all the people here have been so incredible, so helpful. I just…I can’t seem to stop adding to my list of problems, though.”

You could relate. “I’m sorry for disturbing your session. I’m shadowing the group leaders for a couple of weeks so that I can learn how things are done around here.”

Bucky looked back at you. “Don’t apologize for that, you didn’t know.”

“No, but…”

His eyes softened, and his body language seemed to relax, too. “But nothing. It’s great that you’re finally able to use your degree for something you always wanted to do. I’m really proud of you, Y/N.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that at all. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“I’m gonna head out. Good luck on the rest of your training here.”

You merely nodded, watching as he turned to leave. You knew he was just doing what you wanted by leaving you alone. A strange anxiety filled you, and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from calling out to him.

“Bucky!”

He paused halfway to the exit, then looked over his shoulder in question.

Shit. You should have thought this through.

You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, and now Bucky was staring at you with those big blue eyes.

You decided to just go for it. “Do you, maybe, want to start over? As friends?” Your heart was racing, and Sam’s advice about chances came back to you as you stared at him, awaiting an answer.

Right now, all you wanted was to make everything right in your life, and you’d already started by quitting your job. Now it was time to make peace with people.

He turned his whole frame to face you this time, a small smile appearing on his handsome face. “I’d like that very much.”

You made sure not to walk past the ruins of the restaurant on your way home this time. Part of Sam’s encouragement was to not let the past have such a tight grip on you, and there was no way you were going to disregard such sound advice.  

Sam was so different from May. He was more like a friend and mentor than a boss, because all he wanted to do was help. He genuinely wanted you to succeed in your career. He was your Mr. Miyagi, and you hoped to never let him down as long as you were employed at the Red Wing Foundation.

The sound of your phone ringing made you jump a little, even though you were on a busy Brooklyn street. The name on the caller ID made you smile. “Hello?”

“Y/N! I’m standing outside of your apartment! Where are you?”

“How the hell did you get into my building without me, Natasha?”

“I pressed every single button. Someone buzzed me in. That’s how completely secure this place isn’t, Y/N. Anyways, how far away are you?”

“I thought we agreed to keep our distance because of the gag ord-“

“How far are you?” she interrupted. “I really need to see you!”

You turned the corner and your building came into view. “I’m almost there. Why, Natasha, is something wrong?”

“You could say that. Just get here, okay?”

She ended the call, and you shoved your phone back into your bag with a frown. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Once you made it to your floor, you spotted Natasha sitting against your door, her arms wrapped around her knees as she hugged them to her body. She looked really upset.

The second she saw you, she stood up and motioned at the door. “Turns out, I can’t pick locks.”

“Good,” you scoffed in a joking tone. “Can’t have you inviting yourself over all the time. What if I have a gentleman caller?” You opened the door and let her move inside first, before turning to lock it behind you.

Nat’s eyes widened as she turned back to you. “Have you been dating?”

“On and off. I haven’t really hit it off with anyone.”

This was sort of true. You’d had one date since the blowup with Bucky, with a guy you met on a dating site. He was polite, but boring as hell, and you hadn’t accepted his offer for a second date. You just couldn’t see a future with him. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

But Natasha didn’t need to know that. “Make yourself comfortable. Did you eat yet?” You wandered into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water.

“I’m not even remotely hungry. I came here to talk to you about work.”

Suddenly wine sounded more appealing than water. “Red or white?”

“Red,” she replied without missing a beat. “I know we said we couldn’t talk about it, but Y/N, I have to tell someone.”

“Go ahead. What’s another legal issue?” you joked, pouring the red wine carefully into two glasses, then taking one of them over to Nat.

She accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip. “I don’t have to go into the logistics of the case. This is all new, all stuff that happened in the last two days.”

“Go on.” You walked back over to grab your own glass and the bottle, then brought them both to the coffee table, sitting beside her and giving her your full attention. “What’s been happening?”

“May hasn’t found anyone she likes for your replacement yet,” she informed you. “No one has the background, though she’s certainly made her rounds to try to make someone stick.”

“No way! Who has she forced into filming so far?”

“Me, Maria, Lillian from accounting…she even tried to get Scott to do it, citing his divorce as relatable.”

“Poor Scott.” You shook your head in disbelief. May was bananas. “Do you have to do it again?”

“That’s the worst part. Out of all of us, she said I gave the best advice. She wants to force me into the role next.”

“But with the creepy emailer still on the loose, what then?”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about. I haven’t told May or Scott or the legal department yet, but I’ve already gotten two email threats.”

You felt your eyes bug out. “What did they say?”

Nat made a face at you. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“The first one said - and this is just me paraphrasing here, because I don’t speak crazy – ‘You’re even less qualified than the last bitch, you should quit now.’”

“Oh my god, Natasha, you have to tell someone!” You shook your head. “You can’t just let this keep happening!”

Her hands wrung together tightly as she stared at you. “The second one said, ‘Once I’m done with the Love Therapist, you’re next.”

You felt a real fear again. This was a direct threat against you; it had been so long since the crazy stalker had mentioned you, that you thought you were in the clear. “Whoever is doing this should have been happy I quit, and leave me be.”

“Apparently they aren’t satisfied. It probably doesn’t help that May keeps bringing you up in comparison.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, a realization hitting you. “It’s got to be someone who works at September Media. It has to be!”

“What?” She sat up, eyes wide. “You think?”

“What else makes sense? The security clearance to get past firewalls, emailing us personally, inside information like knowing about what happened to Leah? It has to be someone on the inside, Nat.”

She nodded slowly. “You’re right, that makes sense. Who the hell would be so involved with something as stupid as a love advice YouTube show that they’d stoop to this level, though? Who at work would be this crazy?”

You leaned back against the couch cushion, trying to go through the directory in your mind. “I don’t think it’s Scott. And I don’t think it’s May. She’s far too involved in the money end.”

“Maybe she’s doing it to stir up controversy for viewership and media interest?”

“She’s got so much to lose, though.”

“Hmm…I think we should keep her on the list of suspects.”

You nodded. “She is sort of delaying the investigation, isn’t she?”

“That could be because she doesn’t want the show to shut down or get bad press.”

“All press is good press to her, though. Ugh! Who else?”

“Leah?”

“Maybe.” You had to admit, that was your first thought when this all started. “Or maybe one of her many contacts, those clients of Tony Stark’s that were trying to wine and dine with her?”

“I can find out who they were,” she offered with confidence. “No problem. One of them already tried to hit me up for some fun.”

“I didn’t get anyone asking me out. Not fair!”

“Did you really want one of those greasy old dudes to hit on you and use you like Leah? Come on.”

“No, definitely not.” You shuddered at the thought. “Anyone else?”

Natasha tapped her chin gently. “What about a viewer? Do you think one of your pieces of advice led to someone wanting to hurt you? Besides emotionally, I mean.”

Your mind went to Bucky, and his original plan to break your heart. It felt like such a long time ago, now that so many things had happened. “I wouldn’t put it past someone, but to actually keep it up this long shows that this person is a bit more damaged than anything we’ve seen before.”

“So are you over that, then?” Leave it to Natasha to read between the lines.

You thought about it for a moment. “Not exactly. It was a bad thing to do. But he’s working on it, you know? He’s trying to be a better, less emotionally reactive person. He’s been going to therapy.”

“How do you know?”

“Long story. Anyways, I decided to take the lead on things. I’m in control of what happens to me now, and I decided we should try to start over as friends.”

“You don’t have to start over with him at all, Y/N. You don’t owe him anything. Not after everything that happened.”

“I wanted to. I think…I think he’s a good person, Natasha. Love, or someone’s idea or impression of love, especially when they’ve been through so much, can cause someone to do some stupid things. It’s certainly not an excuse, but it is an explanation.”

“Ah yes, doing stupid things for love. I can relate.” She let out a big sigh. “Like me fighting with my best friend when she needed me most, just because I wanted to keep seeing a hot fireman?”

You nudged her arm with yours. “Exactly. Or what about me? I let my terrible luck with romance get in the way, and tried to derail the happiness of complete strangers.”

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she watched you carefully, waiting for you to arrive to your conclusion.

You shrugged, unsure of what else to say on the matter. “He lost his sister, then his fiancée. He almost lost his surrogate mother in a fire recently. I could see why he would become desperate to keep people.”

She nodded, still not saying a word.

“But, he backed off when I asked him to,” you continued, reasoning it out more for yourself than for her. “The fact that he is working through it in a healthy way this time shows he’s making progress. I don’t know…I believe what he told me, and I give him credit for telling me the truth before my feelings got wrapped up with him.”

“Well, you should know better than anyone since you’re a therapist. You’ve tried to analyze me many times.”

“And failed,” you added jokingly.

“Seriously, though, Y/N. That’s great to hear. Even if you can’t be more than friends, at least there’s nothing toxic hanging between you two anymore.”

“Exactly. I don’t need that burden any more than the next person.”

Natasha stretched out her limbs. “What were we talking about again?”

“We were coming up with possible suspects.”

“Well, speculating all night won’t get us any closer to the truth, I’m afraid. We’re going to have to dig a little deeper. What do you say we have an investigation of our own?”

“How?” You gave her a knowing look. “You’re going to go snooping, aren’t you?”

“Maaaaybe. Meanwhile, I think you should compile our suspects and motivations lists. We can take it to the legal department once we have a solid lead.”

“I will try. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself, right?”

‘Right. Can’t wait for May to come around.” Natasha stood up, draining the little bit of wine left in her glass. “I’ll call you tomorrow with some details. Maybe I can get the emails on a flash drive so we can have someone else review them.”

You followed her to the door, opening it then leaning on it. “If you see anything even remotely suspicious, you call for help, okay? And I don’t mean Steve, or Scott, or me. I mean the police.”

“You, too. I’m actually going to meet Steve at the firehouse tonight, so I should be good. Are you going to be okay?”

You shrugged. “I might have a little trouble sleeping, but other than that I’ll be fine.”

Natasha pulled you in for another hug, then gave you a smile before she turned and walked down the hall.

You shut the door, locking it and putting the chain across for good measure. Then you went around to every window, making sure they were shut and locked, with the blinds closed.

That unwelcome feeling of vulnerability returned as you climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. You decided to leave the light on while you slept, just in case.

It was going to be a long night.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

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[asseret-sarim]

The past, the present... the future.  - Part 6

Summary: In SHIELD you are known for your charisma and your irrational optimism. Specially taking in count the irreversible curse HYDRA condemned you with. Because of that, Director Fury has determinate that you are the best person to take care of Bucky’s mental state.

Chapter 6: Aleksei

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Y/N: Your name

Warnings: PTSD, eating disorders, torture.

Word count: Ehhh...

A/N: Ok, Ok, I know. I’ve taken ages to upload this. I’m so sorry!!! I had a huge writer’s block, but now I’m over it. This part is a little (too) dramatic... I got carried away. Sorry, I know, I’m a monster. I promise fluff when the series end! Enjoy reading!

Previously: Part 1 - Part 5

Previously:

“I… realized something. I guess I always knew it, but I had never seen it in such a real… reality. I’ve seen… the twisted, dark, painful story HYDRA turned, not just my life, but many others, into. You could say… I’ve meet Bucky Barnes for the first time. I… Only knew The Soldier, the shadow of a monster. But… It wasn’t the shadow of Bucky, it was the shadow of HYDRA. I feared the man, when I should fear the organization. Its true, in a way, he will always be him to me, he will always be The Soldier. I will always associate my time at HYDRA with him, I will always associate him with the terrible things The Soldier did to me. But every single time, I will have to remind myself that it wasn’t him, and them I’ll keep going. Because its true. He will be the monster that haunts my nightmares, but he doesn't need to know that, because he never chose to be in that position. This is something I have to protect him about: the nightmare he was forced into.”

Daisy nods and stays quiet, looking at the park. After some time, she turns to me. “So what do we do now?”

Now, we fight.

Y/N’s POV:

I look at Daisy’s sleeping form from the sofa. It has taken me a while to convince her to take the bed, but she finally gave in, out of exhaustion.

When we came back from our walk, Coulson had called to ask why exactly was the missing mission jet in the compound. I don’t know how that went, because Tony and Daisy took care of it, but my friend got permission to stay here for the night before leaving first thing in the morning.

While they were talking, Natasha informed me of the current situation. As always, she had my back and had told the team (including Bucky) that I had gone to the training room to cool off after a fight with her and that, given that I was on edge, Barnes had scared me and that had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. It didn’t sound realistic to me, but Nat can be really convincing if she wants to. In any case, they didn't ask questions. Nearly.

When we finished supper, Tony called me aside to his lab with the excuse of wanting to run through my results with me to make sure everything was correct. When we got there, he locked the lab door and started running through some files in his computer, but it was really obvious that he had no intention of asking me anything related to my results.

“What do you want, Tony?” I leaned against one of the tables.

He switched off the computer and turned around his chair. “What happened with Barnes this morning, Y/N?”

“I had a fight with Nat and…”

“I’m not stupid. The rest of the team may be, but I’m not, OK? I want to know what happened.” He stood up, put his hands on my shoulders and looked straight into my eyes. “I want to know. Did he hurt you?”

“He didn’t.”

“But something happened.” I just looked at him, so he took a deep breath before speaking again “Look, Y/N. I… I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. I feel terrible, because I know that you are stuck in a world that has destroyed you and you can’t get out. You can’t go anywhere else than with us, the big guys that shoot each other. That’s not the place for a sixteen year old. It wasn’t forty eight years ago and it still isn't now. Some of us can just destroy a few suits, retire, take yoga lessons or fake our death if we ever decided we were sick of this life. But you can’t. You were chained to this time bomb against your will and there’s no key to your lock. I just want to help you live with it as good as you possibly can, and I want to know if Barnes did something to you so that I can take measures.”

A shiver brushes my spine and tears touch my lids. Its been a long time but still I can’t believe it when people seem to care about me so much. I’ve never been worth it, I can’t understand it. I’m just a stupid little girl that was never able to make it out on her own. People shouldn't care so much about me. I’m no one.

“Y/N…”

I realized I just said that out loud a second too late.

“You are not no one. You are not stupid. And never, absolutely never think you are weak. The three years you spend with HYDRA would have broken anyone, they broke you. But you got up again. And I don't even know how you did it, I know I wouldn't have been able…” He suddenly stopped, his look hardening and his grip on my shoulders tightening until his knuckles turned white. I would have protested if I wasn't so surprised by his behavior. He was mumbling to himself what he just told me ‘Forty eight years’ and ‘HYDRA’. When he looked up, he was horrified “Y/N… Please tell me… You didn’t… You didn't meet Barnes in HYDRA, did you?”

I didn’t even consider lying, the look on my face probably gave me away anyways.

I had managed to convince Tony not to kill Bucky in the spot. Which was lucky, because Steve had convinced him of joining the team for the rest of the evening. Clint, Nat, Daisy and Tony went out of their way to make sure Barnes didn't do anything that would freak me out, but it wouldn't have been necessary. I discovered that when there were other people around, my fear seemed to reduce considerably. It probably was because most of the time I spend with The Soldier was alone with him, because his superiors and the scientists didn't like to see him in “action”. Therefore, he hardly ever hurt me when there was people around. Having all my friends with me gave me the confidence I was lacking and I finally got to meet Bucky Barnes.

“You should have seen him!” Smiled Steve after he managed to finish his story, laughing all over his beer bottle. Why he drank it, given that he could’t even get tipsy, was a mystery to me.

“What can I say? You were a punk.” answered Bucky. At the beginning he had looked disconnected  but as the evening went on he finally got more integrated to the team. I knew I should help, after all, thats why I was there, but I didn't see how. Barnes looked happy, but it wasn’t genuine. In his favor I have to say he was an amazing actor and only someone with as much training as I had would have noticed the subtle signs his body language gave off. How he sat on the edge of the chair, as if ready to run away. How he flinched every time someone got close to him. How he refused to eat or drink anything, much less alcohol, even though half of the team was drinking beer and the other half something a bit stronger. How he kept scanning the room, looking for non-existing threats. Once again, a wave of empathy washed through me. I was like that at the beginning, when I had just gotten away from their claws… and still was sometimes. It’s just not something you can leave behind, because it finds a place inside you and digs a hole and hides there. And now it's part of yourself, like it or not, taking it out would be much more painful that withstanding it every day. And so, it keeps digging deeper and deeper, and every single day its more painful to take it out.

Physically, Bucky didn’t look great either. Back in HYDRA, he was feed just enough to survive, all the other nutrients he needed were supplied intravenously. Now, he kept eating just as much as he ate at HYDRA, but lacking the IV supply, and that was taking it’s toll in his body.

“Who wants cookies?” I asked, looking around the room.

“We just ate.” Nat rolled her eyes.

“So what? I want some!” Daisy got up. “Who’s cooking?”

Vision stood up “I will take ca-”

“Y/N, didn’t you tell me you made amazing cookies?” Sam looked at me imploringly.

Of course I… didn’t. Daisy did, though. And she was nice enough to help me. In ten minutes, the cookies were in the oven and everyone (correction: nearly everyone) was impatient. The one person that actually had to eat, looked as if he was planning on disappearing. Oh, no. I hadn’t cooked for nothing.

“So, Bucky. Tell us a bit about your thoughts. What do you think of this new era?” I could feel Clint’s worried look and Daisy’s puzzled stare piercing through me. I did actually surprised myself, not only for having addressed him directly, but for having been able to come up with a topic that most likely wouldn’t trigger bad memories.

He looked up surprised, but smiled. “Well, internet is definitely useful. Science and medicine have advanced so much… And so have human rights. So that’s great! Ehhh… I don't know…”

“Of course you don’t know. You can’t say you've tried the best from the XXI century if you haven't tried my cookies” Said Daisy, who was already taking them out of the oven.

“I’m gonna turn that one down. Not really hungry.”

Yeah… About that. No one says Daisy “no”. Half an hour later we had managed to get him to eat, not only cookies, but also a few slices of pizza. Success!

A while after midnight we finally called it a day (or night?) and went to bed. After Daisy fell in the arms of Morpheus, I decided to read one of my journals. I started writing journals when I escaped HYDRA, as a therapy you could say, and got into the habit of keeping one journal for every place I lived in. I still read them from time to time.

The one that is resting on my lap right now is white, wore out by time and use, and has a beautiful drawing of a flamenco dancer on the cover. I moved to Spain a few years after escaping HYDRA and in my second day I saw this notebook in a bookshop and I fell in love. I lived all around the country for five years, which was stretching the time I should have been there way too much, before I was trapped and forced to flee to Sweden.

I look at the page I’m on again, explaining my experiences with Spanish food (man, those people sure like strong flavors) and a sudden stab of nostalgia crosses my stomach. I lean over myself, breathing heavily. I’ve never been a nostalgic person, and this feeling is a complete surprise to me. I close the journal, determinate to try and sleep, but the sound of footsteps interrupts me. They are coming from one floor above, and they sound too heavy to belong to someone who is thinking with clarity. Whoever it is, they may hurt themselves if they walk around like this, so I put a sweatshirt on and head to the noise. I’ve dealt with sleepwalkers before.

The footsteps take me to the top common room. By the noise they make, I work out that they are Steve’s. When I’m about to turn the corner, an unexpected noise stops me. It’s  a sob. A contained, frustrated, pained sob, the kind you don’t wan’t people to see. I’m about to turn around and go back to my room, but my damn curiosity doesn’t agree. What can the mighty Captain America be crying about? Before I know it, I’ve entered the common room.

Bad idea.

As soon as I step in, I realize my mistake. Because its not Steve who I have in front. It’s The Soldier. The more rational and smart part of my brain tells me to run and pretend I haven’t seen anything. But there’s a small, unhappy part that just doesn’t see how that is moral. I can’t just leave him here, especially not after the speech I had given Daisy just eight hours ago.

“Hey…” I start towards the sofa.

He looks at me, his expression wild. I take an involuntary step back and need to use all my willpower to continue walking forward. He looks at me carefully until I seat on the other end of the sofa.

Let’s do this.

Bucky’s POV:

I feel her when she seats next to me. I feel her when she reaches over to touch my shoulder, even though she backs away at the last second. I feel her as she looks at me in silence. I feel her. Even though I’ve buried my head on my hands again as soon as she has proven to be no threat.

Silence floats around us, but it doesn’t feel bad. Sharing silence it’s a strange experience, it’s so intimate, vulnerable… but it never lasts much. Sooner or later, something shatters it into a million irreparable pieces. But this one… This one feels right, and I want to hold on to it for a little bit more. And a little bit more. And a little bit more.

“Nightmares?” she asks softly after the silences has lost its proprieties.

“Horrible ones” I murmur. The image the man smiling down at me with a blood-driven expression, brass knuckles in his hands, is still imprinted on my eyelids.

The girl nods and hands me something over. I don’t know when she has done it, because I haven’t looked up, but there’s a steaming infusion in my hands right now. “Clint’s secret recipe. Calming” I drink and the heat travels down my chest. I don’t know why exactly why this is so comforting, but it feels good. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No”

“Okay” she says looking out the window. I notice she’s shivering and hand her a blanket. “Thanks”

I nod and leave the mug in the table. The infusion has help me calm, but there’s still something in my stomach I can’t really identify. It’s moving, making me sick with words and, before I realize it, I vomit them all. All my nightmares. There’s something strange, familiar, floating around this girl, something I can’t identify, but I can’t control either. It’s like something around her is making me speak, but not forcing me. Why am I doing this?

“I dreamed… Of HYDRA. I can’t believe they haven’t… left my head yet. Its… Today I dreamed of a man called Aleksei. It was at the beginning, when HYDRA still hid inside the shade of the KGB. Brainwashing then was… more difficult. I still had strength to fight them back. So they decided the best way to proceed was to make sure I couldn’t fight back. That I was so damn tired and… broken, that I couldn’t even think about it anymore. This man… Aleksei. He was famous in the KGB. He was their men to torture hostages for information or… for more personal causes. He was a sadistic, but with some sort of strange pull to refinement. It’s… difficult to explain. But he was great at his job, and they decided he was the perfect person to get me “ready” for brainwashing. The routine… guess you could call it like that, was simple. At that time, I wasn’t in cryo, because they needed me for various jobs in there… They would call me and take me to a cell in one of the lowest subterranean floors. So no one could hear the screams, I figured.

The HYDRA agents pushed me against the wall and took a par of chains hanging from the ceiling. One of them looked at me, coming uncomfortably close “Take your shirt off” he said. It was a direct order, I couldn't go against it. Aleksei liked to work over exposed skin. I striped my shirt and they chained my wrists, so my arms were raised above my head and my body was nearly hanging from them. They looked at me one last time, while I was hanging there, exposed. One of them walked slowly towards me, smiling lustfully, bloodthirsty in his eyes. He leaned closer and then, with no words, punched me in the stomach. I grunted, but knew the look on this man’s eyes was nothing compared to what was coming. The agents finally exited and I was left there, waiting. Aleksei always took his time, sometimes hours had passed until he finally appeared. I think it was part of his technique… It was mind-destroying knowing what was coming but never actually started. I was just there, hanging vulnerably, surrounded by cold and silence, waiting.

He finally appeared. He closed the door carefully behind him, slowly… He then went to a table set on one side and took his leather gloves off slowly. He turned on the water of the sink and the sound filled the space, left it run for a while before washing his hands, and when he was done, he dried them on a towel. Finally, he looked at me, and there it was. I have never seen so much lust and bloodthirsty fill a man’s eyes as I saw when he looked at me, examining his ideas, deciding which one would work better, and which one he felt like doing. Finally, he walked towards the table and opened it with a key. The cover raised to reveal a secret drawer full of instruments, a lot for which I had no name for. He ran his fingers through the blades of the knifes, to finally choose a silver one. He softly pressed the edge to his finger and with that minimum contact, there was already a cut on his skin.

“I heard what you did last week.” He whispered, coming closer. “Do you think that’s nice, Soldier? Hitting poor helpless girls?”

Last week I was assigned the training of the integrants of the Black Widow program. I was ordered to fight them without holding back. I did hold back, and my handler got furious. I knew there was going to be a punishment, I just didn’t expect it to be so bad.

“But you hurt Natasha. Why did you hurt Natasha?” He asked. Natasha Romanoff was Aleksei’s favorite. He shook his head, but I didn’t open my mouth. That would just make everything worse. “And you also disobeyed orders, I’ve been told. So that’s double punishment” He had been turning around me and now laid the knife on my lower back. The contact between my skin and the cold blade immediately started to sting. He kept the knife on the same place, but slowly pushed it deeper and deeper into the open wound, making it burn worse and worse. He did the same on the other side before cleaning the blade. “I’m not happy with you, soldier” He said, while I grunted in pain. “We are doing a quick warm up, and then get started. Once we get started, don’t expect good treatment” He pressed the knife to my front left hip. This time, the knife dug in deep, reaching the bone, and he leaned against it, coming very close to me, and looked into my eyes, establishing dominance. He finally took the knife out of the wound and I growled loudly, in pain. “Don’t tell me you’re already in pain. We haven’t even gotten really started” he laughed, heading towards the table and taking some brass knuckles that reflected light. “But if you’re feeling that way, let’s get over with warm up soon, shall we?”

He walked towards me at rate that was the opposite of quickly. He took his time to adjust the brass knuckles. He then hit the back of my knees and I fell to my knees, hanging from my wrists. He got into a fight position. This was going to be bad. Aleksei was specially bloodthirsty today, and he had an excuse to inflict extra pain, no one would tell him off about it. He knew that. He damn well knew that, and he was taking his chance. The cold, hard metal collided against my chest, sending a wave of pain through me, and it didn’t stop for what felt like eternity.

When he considered the punching was over, there wasn’t a single part of my body he hadn’t hit. He had even gone below the hip, something unusual in him, I was doubled over as much as I could to relive pain, which wasn’t much given the position I was hanging on. Aleksei threw the bass knuckles over the table and smiled.

He carried on: he dug a razor blade into the twisted skin of my flesh shoulder and started pushing it down. I screamed as the blade enter the tender skin on my armpit, that had never been cut until now. He shushed me. “Stop screaming, this is nothing yet. I’m going to have to muzzle you if you keep making noises.” Blood dripped and flowed down my side, mixing with dirt. He cleaned the blade and looked at me. “Oh, look! The bruises are already forming” he said, laying a hand and pressing down on a particularly big and painful bruise on my abdomen. I grunted and he didn’t look happy “Here we go again. Don’t say I didn't warn you” He cut a piece of duct tape and sealed my lips with it. Then he came back with a dark liquid. Vinegar. I could feel it burning even before the wet fabric touched my cuts. He enjoyed the burning pain this particular procedure caused. When I felt like my back, hip and side were on fire, he finally decided to stop. His hand gripped my jaw and forced me to look at him. “Don’t you dare pass out, or I’ll make sure you come back soon enough. And you’ll regret it” I believed him. “Its so nice when you have your mouth sealed. Its much more fun to do this. But I want to hear your screams for what you did to Natasha.” He showed me a whip, enjoying the desperation in my eyes before ripping the duct tape off…

I hear a contain sob that breaks my trance. My breathing is heavy and I can feel the intensity my face showcases after the flashback. Next to me Y/N won’t meet my eyes, rubbing a hand over her face. I feel guilty, she had no reason to hear that, she did not deserve to be haunted by my experiences. But then she does something surprising and squeezes next to me, pulling the blanket around us both.

“I think it worked.” she whispers, her voice still shaky, and I realize that I’m feeling much lighter now that I don’t have to bear that weight alone. “You should sleep now” I rest my head on her shoulder and the light feeling drags me into dream land while she gently runs a hand through my hair.

Before I completely drift off, I hear her mumbling something “So Aleksei had another victim.” but I’m too far off now to understand anything.

Part 7

Thank you to @beccaanne814-blog @annadier  @lilasiannerd  @obsessivegeekynerd @drinkfantasy @graysonmalfoy  @scoobertdoobert2  @violentlyfarts  @queenllamamama13  @agentraven007 @brutalwerewolf  @isaxhorror @katundeadd  @chrixa @i-am-mina  @musichowler @panic-at-the-camisado @chipilerendi  @thesalsafic @jennymagicalheart  @amrita31199  @crazyliraz  @psm2303  @s-eabasstian  @5secondsofonedirection222  @38leticia @acidentally-in-hell @namastay-in-bed-2002  @paulaamarieee  @ipaintmelodies and all the amazing people who are with me in this adventure!!

[valkirsif]

Unthinkable CH 12/???

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word 3200

Warning nothing

"How did fly Silly?" Chris asked, turning on the jeep and taking a dirt road that looked like anything but passable,

"Perfect trip and without jolts .." the woman answered holding tight to the rollbar, ".. I can not say the same now, but you have to take all the holes?" She laughed worried as jumped at each bump,

 Chris burst out laughing, put his arm around her shoulders and hugged "Sorry but we're shooting scenes in the woods and the streets are a bit 'rough, the production tries to prevent the curious discover where we work so no road is been adjusted or reported",

"So we're going to the set?" She asked curiously, the idea of ​​being in the middle of the filming surrounded by people set her anxious, she stopped thinking when looked out the window was beautiful, the road bordered a river and the other side it opened a forest among the greenest she had ever seen, there was only nature as far as the eye could see,

"We do not go to the set but to the village built for the crew and actors, each of us has a kind of house we will have all the privacy we want" the man answered turning and stopping in front of a gate, the guard checked who he was and looked the guest before opening and letting them pass,

"Now you're down so nobody will notice you," he whispered to the woman in spy tones, Y/N stifled a laugh and lowered head resting on the man's knees, she heard many voices, people waving and Chris answering, the road had improved at least she did not hit all sides, a few minutes after the jeep stopped heard the creak of a door sat up looking around, they were in a garage,

"Welcome to my den" the tone of the bad movies made her laugh,

"In what trouble i hunted" the woman took the backpack shaking her head and followed him, the kind of house was a huge camper, she had seen one similar to the sea, it was more spacious than it seemed from the outside Chirs put the keys on the shelf and made her way, there was a living room with a sofa that seemed very comfortable a tv the PS and a dvd player, a grass effect carpet as big as the room that made her want to roll, the kitchen corner was essential but there was no lack of coffee, she felt at home as if he were at home

"Do as if you were at your home, Silly" took the backpack from her and leaned on the sofa and smiled and, before Y/N could protest, he put her on his shoulder and headed for another room,

"Come put me down!" she laughed kicking, the man tightened his grip to not let it fall, "I hate being moved like that, i follow you with my legs"

"If you make all this noise they will find us" he answered opening the door of the room, put it on her feet and pushed it on the bed, Y/N began to be nervous started to sit down but Chirs stood above her,

"Christopher Robert Evans what are your intentions?" she asked as the man took off his t-shirt and looked at it with mischievous eyes,

"You are trapped Silly, tell me where you hide my treasure and you will not be hurt" he asked in a bad voice of the old movies, the woman stared at him bewildered and then understood what he meant,

"I do not know what treasure you're talking about, the only things i have with me are in my backpack, take what you want but let me go" tried to play the innocent girl as best she could but she ran away laughing, that situation was too absurd, the man stood up without saying a word and went to take the backpack, opened it and spilled its contents on the bed,

"Here is!! My TREASSSSSURE !! " he shouted victoriously holding the t-shirt Y/N had stolen, turned to the woman who still laughed, "I was sure you would remember this" he said, hugging her,

"I must have confessed for a second you scared me," Y/N replied, taking off shoes and resting comfortably on him, "I would have minded ruining our friendship by putting you out of the game",

"Scared for what?" Chris asked, moving just to stare at her, "Do you really think i could do something like that Silly?"

"I do not believe it but put yourself in my shoes, we've known each other for two days i'm sorry if i do not understand when you're joking" she replied guilty of having had that thought, "Forgive me?",

the man ruffled her hair, "Excuse me, i seem to know you for a lifetime i did not think what it might look like.." he laughed, "..wait a minute, you would have landed?!" asked unconvinced,

"Of course i would have landed you, do you have any doubts?" the woman leaned on her elbow, "I was properly trained",

"If you put it that way..i challenge you!" he said getting out of bed and reaching out to help her get up,

"I think this is not the place to fight, i get dressed and i'll take you to my favorite place" he put on an old overalls and sneakers, turned to her and put a hat on head, "So nobody will do questions if we meet people ", Y/N looked at the mirror, with the official Marvel cap could pass for any intern or secretary and the only person who could know it was Tom, lowered visor over her eyes and went out with Chris,

"My idea of ​​a relaxing day was not just that, i thought more to film and cuddle on the couch" the woman said as they went up a ridge of rock, the day was perfect for walking, she loved the woods and climb with Chris was pleasant, reached the top opened before her eyes a flowered park with benches and wooden tables typical of picnic areas, there was all the space they wanted to fight,

"Here we are Silly, what do we bet?" Chris asked lying on the grass,

"You're the one who's going to be pounded by a woman, you decide the prize" Y/N laugh taking off the sweatshirt, the man laughed

"Let's see, if i win you stay here a couple of days," he said, "In the remote hypothesis that you win instead you will accompany me to the premiere in Italy" the hand to seal the bet,

"Ok" the woman answered, clenching in turn, "I'll have to buy a dress suitable for the evening" mocked her helping him get up, they were facing each other,

"Come on over Captain" Y/N challenged him, the man smiled and moved towards her with head down, put his arms around her shoulders blocking her, the woman put a foot behind Chris's ankle and pushed without effort, the man fell on his back grunting,

"I stumbled , it was just luck" he laughed, getting back on his feet and loading Y/N again, he grabbed her by the neck without too much tightening and pushed with all her weight, the woman gave a couple of steps then took the thumbs of her assailant and twisted too hard, she wanted to beat him not to break his bones, Chris let go at once,

"All ok Sassy?" the woman asked, laughing,

"You do not mind badly to be a girl, if you see me arrive you can prepare the shot" the challenge tone did not escape Y/N who smiled and beckoned to refer back to him,

"Do you want to make it more interesting? Just because you are you allow me to attack behind" even the voice of the woman exuded challenge, turned her back to Chris and waited to make his move, the man came up and tightened his arms around her chest, Y/N folded and took his leg making him lose balance, the two fell laughing, Chris hugged her and with a click the block on the ground,

"And now how do we put Silly?" he said breathlessly while holding her shoulders pressed on the ground, the woman did not try to wriggle, he was much bigger and stronger than her, did what Gian had taught her, waited for him to approach and took the carotid with two fingers clenching, when he saw that was about to lose senses let go, Chris looked at her in amazement,

"Ok ok i give up, i knew that many women attend courses of self-defense, but you seem to have been trained for war" he looked at her smiling almost admiring, lay down next to her and took a breath,

"Gian, the friend who trained me, it is of the idea that all women should know how to defend themselves and the techniques of the army are excellent, more than anything else for self-esteem, when you know what your body can do you feel stronger and consequently become stronger" Y/N answered leaning on him,

"I will enroll my sister in the field of the marines then" laughed tightening her, "I will never use -fightt like a girl- like mockery, if i were an assailant you would have torn me in pieces",

"Nobody will never know" laugh "Let me know the day and what time it takes to pick me up for the premiere," they were lying on the grass talking, it was an amazing sunny day and it was a really nice breeze,

"What do you say we come back? Beginning to get hungry," Chris suggested, getting back on his feet, Y/N nodded, reached out to pull her up and set off to return to base camp, the woman had not noticed the view from the top and was left speechless,

"Chris it's beautiful, i understand why it's your favorite place", she could see the whole forest in its majesty the river crossed it like a silver tongue, could see the base camp and the area where they were shooting, the paparazzi would have gone crazy with joy, the two went quietly talking and laughing,

"I think i understand why we go so well," the woman said, Chris looked at her curiously waving to continue, "We are both of Gemini",

"You say?" the man did not seem convinced,

"It happened to me sometimes to know someone and feel so good with him immediately and in the end i discovered that we were the same sign, it is a kind of empathy" concluded Y/N smiling,

"Now that i think some of the my best friends i'm of my own sign, it's really a strange thing" he replied, taking her by the hand, "Are you telling me that the Gemini recognize each other?!",

"I think so and i do not mind at all" she turned and hugged him , they were almost at the camp when they saw Tom and Rdj training, Y/N was tempted to hide behind on the first tree but it was late they had seen them and were reaching them, tried to keep control and smiled,

"Caught in the act," Chris laughed going to meet friends.

"Hey Evans who is this lady?" Rdj came forward to introduce himself , "Pleasure dear" he said stretching out his hand,

"My pleasure Mr. Downey jr., Y/N" the woman answered, she was thrilled, she followed Rdj for years it was a real honor for her to be in his presence, felt Tom's eyes on her and the butterflies in the stomach for being discovered,

"Mr. Downey was my father, Rdj will be fine" he laughed, shaking her hand, "Can i have the pleasure of introducing you Loki?" he said looking at Tom,

"We already know each other" step towards to embrace her, "It's a pleasure to see you again darling" was smiling as always,

"For me it's a pleasure to see you again, you're in great shape" Y/N smiled back, she wanted to throw arms around his neck and kiss him but just smiled,

"If you do not have much for training, you could join us for lunch," Chris said cheerfully, had no idea what Y/N was passing at that moment,

"Sure we do not bother?" Rdj sly tone, "We do not want to make the third uncomfortable",

"What? We are just friends do not make strange ideas" Chris laughed,"We wait for you ", the man took Y/N and went to the camper,

"Let's see what's in the fridge," he said as soon as they entered, the woman sat trying to keep her emotions in check, she was happy to see Tom again but was not sure could be near him without collapsing,

"Silly help me?" Chris's voice shook from her thoughts, she reached him in the kitchen,

"Of course 'do you have in mind for lunch?” she asked, looking back to the fridge,

“We almost always eat in the field cafeteria, there's not much in the house,” the man replied,

“Make room for me” Y/N laughed pulling out eggs, bacon and cheese, "Tell me you have some pasta and we're fine", the man opened the door above the fridge and pulled out spaghetti,

"Perfect we have everything i need for carbonara, in Rome i would spank if i they saw the bacon but it's the same" she immediately went to work and cut and brown the bacon, prepared the eggs with the cheese and put on the water, Chris looked at her happy,

"I feel like i'm home in Boston with my mother cooking," he whispered hugging her, the woman leaned against him and smiled,

"Insinuating that I'm old?" she asked curiously,

"No i'm saying i feel at home right now" kissed her and set the table in the garden, the woman heard the others had joined them and they were laughing in the garden, she took a breath deep, put a smile on her face and went out to take a drink.

Y/N was fascinated by Rdj no one else could play Iron Man, he WAS Tony Stark, was a charming man, sociable and open and loved to have an audience, the woman returned home to throw the dough, had tears and stomach ache for laughter was passing a dream day, took out the dishes not to overcook the dough, too familiar hands touched her hips,

"I like watching you cook " Tom's voice made her legs tremble, "It's one of the best memories of the holiday from Rice, you dance while you prepare breakfast.."

".. the first morning" the woman finished the sentence, untied the embrace and drained the pasta, "You would pass the dishes.." Tom had preceded, she did the dishes and followed by the man served lunch,

"It looks delicious Y/N" Rdj took a picture at the plate, "I send it to Susan just to entice her "

"Thanks, after Bolognese sauce carbonara is the most Italian thing ever" laughed sitting down,

"For the meat sauce i can testify, it is one of the best things i have ever eaten" Tom added, had lunch chatting , Rdj wanted the recipe of carbonara and Y/N was happy to share it,

"Coffee for all?" Chris asked, getting up, everyone nodded,

"I'll take care of that" the woman standing up and removing the dishes,

"You cooked, be comfortable, you're my guest" the man replied, Y/N was not convinced that an American was able to make an Italian coffee worthy of that name but smiled and passed the dishes, she was alone with Tom, Rdj was on the phone with his wife was explaining the recipe for pasta, smiled looking at him gesturing as if Susan could see him ,

"So you and Chris go there" felt a sort of jealousy in Tom's voice but it was probably her imagination,

"We are friends, he invited me and i accepted" she answered sincerely, "I feel good in his company, it's like home", she wanted to stretch hand and tighten the one of Tom, instead continued to torture her fingers under the table, remained silent until Chris returned with coffee, Y/N was amazed he was really good complimented the man,

"If not it's a problem i think i'll take Y/N and i'll collapse on the couch," Chris said as finished his coffee,

Rdj burst out laughing, "After a similar lunch i'm going to do a run to dispose of, it was a pleasure Y/N" shook her hand and took the way to the hill,

"I think i will follow him" Tom hugged her, "Thanks for lunch dude" greeted and ran after the friend waiting for him, Chris and the woman went into the house and got on the sofa, as Y/N had imagined was soft and enveloping,

"Let's watch a movie Silly?" asked holding the DVD in his hand, the woman nodded, "Mmm something funny..let's see..here it is!" he put the DVD in the player, turned on the TV and lay down hugging Y/N,

"Omg Space Ball!!" the cheerful woman chirped, "It's one of the my favorites!" hugged him more and tried to concentrate only on the film.

She opened her eyes as the credits passed, they had fallen asleep and it was now evening, she saw the sunset from the window, moved slightly to get up from the Chris's arms and went out into the garden to call Rice,

"Hi Lucifer..yes, everything was ok, i returning tomorrow morning i wanted to warn you after the last time do not want you to be worried" laughed hearing the group in the background asking questions, gave a good night and turned off the phone again before returning, Chris had woken up and was making coffee ,

"After dinner i make the return," said passing the cup,

"Actually i would stay if it's all right for you," the woman said drinking coffee, "By the way, great coffee Captain" winked,

"Of course it's okay Silly, i'm happy if you stay, tomorrow i'll take a ride on the set before letting you go back to your friends" was beaming and took her hips making a jump, the two laughed as children, dined on the sofa with a kind of salad mixed made up of everything they found in the fridge, they fought one against the other with the PS,

"This time i beat you Silly, here we are not in a field" Chris tried to make her wrong by tickling,

"Hey it's so wrong!" Y/N shouted while her character was thrown into the air and exploded with a rocket, she had lost three games in a row and Chris strutted for the room,

"After this humiliation let's go to bed that's better" she said turning off the game and the TV, the man pointed the alarm clock and went in the shower that he found already occupied,

"Sorry" said closing the curtain embarrassed, "I swear i did not see anything!",

"When i did the massage in the hotel i was naked, now it's a problem?" Y/N laughed pulling head out of the shower,

"When i reached in the pool you immediately dressed i thought i had problems with nudity.." he replied

"In that case the situation was different. soap my back Sassy" she said throwing the towel, they finished the shower and went to bed, the woman curled next to Chris who held her protective,

"Silly you want to talk?" the friend asked kissing her head, Y/N shook the head, if had opened mouth it would be explode and did not want to end up like this a perfect day, "Do you want to have sex?!",

"You're a stupid Chris" the woman laughed and punched him, heard the friend laugh in turn,

"Hey you never know, even if it would be like doing it with a sister..but if that's what you need i would try to please you!" he said candidly, Y/N clung to him, she wanted to get lost in that hug, "I'm just stupid" she whispered before falling asleep.

[jnp1]

4 Leadership Lessons for Founders After Running a Startup for 5 Years

This time five years ago, I founded StackSocial, what is now StackCommerce. Each year for the past four years, I’ve shared a few lessons (Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4) for other founders who are on the same arduous path. It’s been humbling, it’s been exhilarating, and I’ve grown in ways that I couldn’t have imagined. This year I’m back with 4 more takeaways from the past 12 months … perhaps the most important ones thus far.

Before I get to that, I want to give you a quick background on us:

At its core, StackCommerce is a product discovery platform. We work with brands to help them tell their story through online publishers including Engadget, Business Insider, Gizmodo, Aol.com, The Chive, Lifehacker, Macworld, IGN, HuffPo, CNET, and 750+ others. This consists of not just editorials and embeddable widgets with a slick checkout experience, but a complete immersion of the consumer journey from product discovery to purchase, fulfillment, and beyond to the next product. We simply call it: “Native Commerce”.

Now, as promised, here are a few lessons learned over the past year:

1. Empathy is the most underrated virtue of leadership

Like many entrepreneurs, growing up in my 20’s I revered Steve Jobs. I admired his take no bullshit, take no excuses, accept nothing but the best, and demand perfection, slant on life. I expect it of myself and so, why shouldn’t I expect it of my team? Shoot for the moon and worst case you end up in the clouds, right? But, with people, that’s not always the case.

Perfection is a tough standard to meet.

Putting that standard on yourself is your right. It’s probably not a smart one in the long run, but if you want to live with high bouts of anxiety, tension, and stress in pursuit of your ultimate satisfaction — that’s your right. But to project that onto others in pursuit of perfection often times causes us to remove all sense of “understanding” of someone else’s circumstances. That lack of empathy can hurt. It can really alienate people in a way that you may not foresee.

I’ve had some major setbacks in my life and as painful as they were — they have been a great asset to me. They taught me how fragile the human spirit is and in those moments how much we all need comfort, understanding, and encouragement … not a hard-ass with unreasonable expectations. Finding an acceptable balance in the pursuit of greatness and empathy with yourself and your team will help you endure because, frankly, you are nowhere near as good as Steve Jobs, so stop trying to mimic something you are not.

2. Communication is the antidote to almost every problem

Setting up formal feedback loops should be a top priority. When you are smaller, informal 1:1’s, happy hours, and one-off meetings can be enough to get a sense of people’s thoughts and give them the opportunities to let you know their thoughts. As you grow, implementing consistent channels for frank and/or anonymous feedback is vital to staying aligned with your team. Some of the things we have done this year include:

Management OKR Process — Quarterly Objectives and Key Results help align the entire organization behind the top metrics and KPIs. You’d be surprised how misaligned folks are until you get everyone in the same room. This also allows lower level managers to gather feedback from the bottom-up to help build consensus on what’s important to them.

360 Degree Reviews — Everyone in our org gets anonymous 360 degree reviews from peers, their direct reports, and the layer above them. We’ve found that this can surface incredibly insightful feedback that helps the individual to understand how their actions are helping or hurting, not only those that they report to, but everyone in the org.

Team Off-sites — Last November, we took the entire team on a 3-day cruise to Mexico. (WTF…I know, right?!) That investment has paid for itself and then some. There’s something magical that happens when you get everyone out of the office. People relax…they let their hair down a bit and they get honest. And there is gold in those moments of honest, direct feedback. I’ve probably learned more about what my team thinks about the leadership of our company in those few moments then all my 1:1’s combined. Do not underestimate the importance of spending time away from the office as a team.

3. Have a non-business mentor

I have a team of awesome advisors and investors who are phenomenal when it comes to startups and tech. And when I have a business question….they are who I turn to. But, often times, the issues I have as a founder can’t be resolved in an excel spreadsheet. They are matters of the soul.

This job will rip you apart. It will bring you to your knees. I don’t care if you are Elon Musk or Marissa Mayer or Mark Zuckerberg … you feel pain… you have low days, low weeks, and, yes, even low months. The highs are higher than you can imagine and the lows are pretty low.

If you don’t have a personal, non-tech confidant you can turn to — make it a priority to get one. Today, my wife and my dad are the two people I turn to when I’m at my lowest. And, everytime, without fail, they are there for me with doses of reality, empathy, and love.

Before I was married, when I was first starting launching Stack, I was really up and down based on the momentum of each day. I took every single day personally, and when you’re in that state, you need someone to vent to and just let go. In those early days, I saw a therapist and it was the best thing I could have ever done. It helped so much that the therapist knew nothing about tech, because at the end of the day, my problems weren’t about tech, they were about emotions and feelings. Many of our problems are internal and not external as we might think. I encourage you to find someone, anyone, outside your tech circle to talk to and just let go.

4. Cash is King

Every startup has a different track. Ours is what I’ve coined as being “Seed-Strapped”. We raised a small Seed round of $800k back in 2012, but we’ve been profitable ever since so we haven’t needed to raise more funding. We’re not a completely “bootstrapped” startup, yet we also haven’t raised large rounds of institutional capital. Those two facts make for a very unique creature in the startup world, but it’s a path that I would personally recommend.

Raising a Seed round gave us access to new potential partners, press, hires, and social capital that we needed to grow the business and it was well worth the dilution. But, instead of going the traditional route of raising more capital and further diluting my ownership and that of my team’s, we focused on staying cash flow positive.

Some may say it was a mistake and we could have grown much faster with capital, but I also know many hooks that come with that money. Hooks that I didn’t believe were a worthwhile trade-off. Easy capital does not equate to success and, in fact, can lead you to your demise by allowing you to go too fast too early before you figure out product-market fit. We’ve seen this all too often. Founders think that raising capital is like putting training wheels on a bicycle, but it’s more akin to slapping a rocket on a tricycle.

Regardless, the ability to stay independent, make your own decisions, and have your own path is invaluable. Take on capital wisely, even if you can raise more. I would advise you to take what you need and, if you can, get to profitability ahead of growing a few percentage points faster. Maybe that’s heresy in the startup world, but I’m a bit cynical after seeing too many startups grow quickly and fade even faster.

To wrap things up, here are a few #humblebrags on my team and some accomplishments over the past year:

5th Year Highlights:

Grew the team to 60+ people while remaining profitable (on just $800k of capital raised in 2012)

Grew our publisher network to over 750 publishers and our user community to over 3.5 million registered members

Expanded into our 4th Vertical: 1. Tech, 2. Men’s Lifestyle, 3. Education, 4. Women’s Lifestyle … with plans for the 5th.

Built out an incredible management team with experience from companies including Google, Gilt, Fab, Headspace, and Pivotal Labs

Adopted five insanely rad Office dogs: Bill Murray, Kiley, Cowboy, Zoey, and Uni

But, beyond all of that, the biggest highlight over the past five years is that we’ve not only created a successful company, but also a culture, a family, and movement. I couldn’t be more proud of the blood, sweat, and tears that this team has put forth to help better the lives of our vendors, publishers, and customers.

Here’s to the next 5 years. Good luck and Godspeed.

[promomagazine]

Charles H.Traub has an Eye for Everyday Beauty

By:  Anna Hilderman

Charles H. Traub’s oeuvre spans decades of street portraiture and multi-disciplined visual projects. His recent publications include Lunchtime, a vivid, sunlit assortment of 1970’s lunch-goers, and No Perfect Heroes: Photographing Grant, an interactive iBook that combines black-and-white stills with audio excerpts of the president’s memoirs. Herein, true to his body of work, Traub explains his motivation.

Q: Your photographs, particularly in your Lunchtime, are known for being up-close snapshots of pedestrians who are rather eccentric on their own. Do you photograph your subjects with your own dreamt-up character in mind for them?

A: The times were slightly different in the late 70’s. People were less guarded so one could approach them fairly openly. I photographed people because I was genuinely curious about who they were and I delighted in the projections they made. I was guided by the famous book, Presentations of Self in Everyday Life by the sociologist, Irving Goffman. My premise was and still is that people pretty much are what they are on the surface. I’m referring to a line now by Oscar Wilde: “It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible…” What one finds in the real world is as magical and probably more fanciful than anything anybody could dream up. The coincidences and ironies of the real world are perhaps more enigmatic than anything one could fictionalize. Frankly all photographs are a kind of fiction, what I call a taradiddle: a little white lie, a little absurdity. Like life itself, we fake it til we make it.

Q: How does shooting on the street in the late 70’s compare with today, when people go out with the expectation of being captured by street style photographers? Was there more room for the photographer’s vision?

A: There may be more room in making of what we call a “social landscape” image. But being able to go up to people with the question, “Can I take your picture?” may be more difficult. People are in a rush and are more sensitive about being exploited. You have to be honest in your approach! There’s a famous story I’ve often told; standing in 1979 at the corner of 5th Avenue and 57th Street, across the street at Tiffany’s was a gaggle of paparazzi surrounding a limousine. I was on the other side, sort of aloof, telling people I’m not with them. So who walks by, the most famous woman in the world, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, who stops in front of my camera and says, “If you need to take my picture, please be quick.” I said, “Mrs. Onassis, I’m not here for that purpose, thank you very much.” I’m laughing at myself and all those paparazzi across the street going after Charlie’s Angel Jaclyn Smith getting her wedding ring. So no sooner did that happen than John Lennon and Yoko Ono walk by and do exactly the same thing. I didn’t take their picture either…The truth is that everybody wants to be noticed, wants to be photographed. They have that coat and tie on for a reason and a sloppy dress that is more consider red than not. I believe, what’s worn is a deliberate decision. That’s what I’m interested in, the social fabric of the human condition.

Q: Is there an image of yourself that you hope to project?

A: I try as best I can to be put-together and, at the same time, I think people probably say: “He does something interesting, he’s a creative person” from the way I look. Consciously or unconsciously, I think we all dress in a manner that anticipates how we want to be perceived.

Q: How does the photographer-subject paradigm shift between shooting in Italy as an outsider vs shooting in Chicago or New York as an American?

A: If you’re really making serious observations through the camera, you have to always be an outsider, because the minute you try to be an insider, you’ve lost some kind of perspective on the subject. You’ve got to stay outside of it. Though I can try to express sympathy and empathy, I still have to remain objective about what I’m seeing.

Q: Our next issue is themed to unexpected perceptions. When revisiting your collections from the 70’s and 80’s, what stands out to you as “unexpected”?

A: I think the unexpected are the performers, the by passers. A photographer of my type has the means to acknowledge people and to give them a kind of dignity, a timelessness. There’s a certain baroque quality to my work. I like that; today I more consciously look for that kind of configuration, and I see it in the posing of people all the time. The character, the role-playing of people is what interests me. There are such things as stereotypes. My work aims to make collections of such and in order to create a body of work that tells us that something close to true.

Q: As the Chair of the Photography, Video and Related Media department at of The School of Visual Arts New York, how do you keep an eye towards digital innovation?

A: When I started the program almost 30 years ago, we were the first digital program anywhere. Frankly, all lens and screen arts education has to be digital. Aspiring creative image makers have to be multi-talented, transdisciplinary, and able to work in the dialogue and the management of the imagery that is constantly engaging us. I totally believe in the digital, in the idea of being an image manager, somebody who rethinks what an image can say: what I call a creative interlocutor. Using imagery as data, computational photography and understanding these means not purely in the technical sense or in the scientific sense but in their potential as a creative form of expression is the concern of the artist.

Q: What would you say to a visual arts student who lacks the resources to travel?

A: The cost of higher education is pretty ridiculous and hopefully a better government will help students find the resources to do something about their loans. Everything we do in the world is influenced by the lens and screen arts. We need to train a generation of people to be adept at it. If you are engaged in the creative possibilities of the digital, you have the ability to be employable. Young students who come from all over the world seem to manage the travel pretty well. Maybe the short answer is you can travel pretty much anywhere through everyone else’s pictures. The corollary to your question is that a lot of students are caught up in the personal world. The self, the memories of my childhood, and all of that overly preoccupy young students. This is a little bit narcissistic: “Oh, I have to explore my desktop.” I wish they would step out into the real world a little more. To give witness. I’m not sure they want to. It is not just the cost of travel, it’s the lack of curiosity and interest in the other.

Q: You can, as you said, stay in other people’s photography, stay so insular your own room exploring the computer and taking still lives of your own possessions.

A: Yes, I think people are more insular because the world is more complicated and threatening than it once was. The lack of curiosity comes from somewhere else. For example, if you make a reference to a student and later ask them about it, they often say: “I haven’t looked it up yet. “ Ironically, because it’s so easy to do in the realm of the circuit, they sort of slough it off or forget to actually do the research. What I’m talking about is a kind of generational slacking. Of course, I’m generalizing and perhaps acting a like an old fart.

Q: It’s certainly an excuse not to go further. Are there any old, unpublished collections of yours that you would like to see released?

A: There are several. There’s one called Bowery though I’m changing the name to Skid Row. It is a collection of portraits I took in the Bowery in New York and uptown in Chicago in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Then there’s a whole body of digital work, Still Life in America and several iterations of Taradiddle, which have yet to be published. I’d like for Still Life in America to be in a public space where people can interact with it and keep adding to it. I would do it both ways [digital and analogue]. I think working with big screens and having people be able to work with the images themselves is where we should be at, because everyone has their own dialogue and their own means of how to arrange it.