#the THING is. last weekend the dishwasher died

[hotdadlicense]

used reverse psychology this morning with my posts and it worked. today actually turned out okay and i even got an early mark. thankyou i love you

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: things are picking up now xx

masterlist

and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

Waking up on a Friday was also the toughest thing to do. At least, it had become an issue ever since Sadie realised that the 5th day of the week usually meant the last one at kindie before she got to spend the next two days at home. In fewer words, the two year old had learned the concept of a regular working week which is a feat considering her father blatantly disregards the sanctity of a Monday to Friday work week in favour of a messier approach. Y/N was almost sure his motto was screw work-life balance; nevertheless, Sadie made it incredibly hard to bathe and dress with all her excitement with what to do over the weekend, specially since Steve was around.

She finished brushing and braiding Sadie's hair, straightening her uniform so she wouldn't get yet another passive aggressive note from the PTA mums complaining about tidy uniforms - as if it was possible to get a 2 year old to be tidy. The two went downstairs with Sadie running to the breakfast table once she saw some donuts laying around which she was sure to only eat the pink icing of and hand Y/N or Bucky the donut itself.

There was something ... off. Bucky was silently buttering a slice of toast and Steve was staring into the further wall which Y/N knew was not that interesting.

- Who died? - Y/N asked as she sat down.

- It's Friday morning, Y/N. Sorry if we're not singing Kumbaya my lord. - Bucky replied, taking a bite of his toast.

- Thank god, you can't hold a tune. - Y/N smirked, helping Sadie place a napkin on her lap. - We're gonna need to get Sadie a new uniform, by the way.

- A new one? - Bucky looked up from his plate. - Swear we bought her that one a few months ago.

- We need to get the winter uniform. She doesn't fit the one from last year and it's starting to get chilly.

- Take the AMEX and buy it today. - Bucky fished through his wallet before handing Y/N the gold card. - Oh, get her one of those lunchbox thingies. I saw some kids with them the other day.

- Hm, now describe such lunchbox thingie, Sergeant.

- What do you mean? The thingies the kids carry along with their lunchbox for soup or water. The round thing.

- A thermos? Why would Sadie need a thermos?

- Yeah Bucky, she's a 2 year old not a college student. - Steve said, handing Sadie a donut. - She doesn't need one.

- Y/N get her one. Get one for yourself too, you eat soup right?

- I have a thermos, thank you.

Sadie, as expected, ate the sprinkles and frosting off the donut and handed the half eaten donut to Y/N. She excused her from the table, kissing the top of her head and sending her on her merry way to wash her hands and get her backpack, leaving Y/N to bring the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Bucky followed behind like a puppy, carrying some leftover pastries and fruit to put in the fridge before they ended up with fruit flies.

- Are you going to Columbia today? - he said, opening the fridge nonchalantly.

- No. I'm going to come back home after dropping Sadie. I have some online meetings booked with some experts in the UK and France about some topics in my PhD and the library didn't have any available private rooms.

- I'll ask Steve to come down with me to the office then.

- That's not necessary. - Y/N loaded the dishwasher with the plates, looking at Bucky, taking a very good look. He didn't look as put together as he usually did. His hair, usually wavy yet gelled into place, was messy and he wasn't wearing his suit yet. - I'll just go to my bedroom.

- You can use my office. - was he trying to get on her good graces once more? - The internet signal is better there.

- It's your office, Sergeant. I'm not gonna use it.

- I absolutely hate it when you call me Sergeant. - he shut the fridge, leaning against it. - Look ...

He sighed, his eyes not meeting hers.

- I'm sorry. - those words came from his lips very slowly, as if it pained to say them and if Bucky were being honest it pained him to say them. Bucky wasn't sorry but that didn't mean he wanted Y/N to hate him forever. - It's not my place to interfere with your relationship.

- I know. - she shrugged. - If you think your opinion of my love life interferes with it in any way, you're wrong.

- I'm just trying to look out for you. There's a lot of wolves in New York.

- I'm not a country bumpkin, Sergeant. I know how to look after myself.

- So ... are you and Chris Davis dating then?

- That it none of your business, Sergeant.

- It actually is. - he smirked. - You see, you are my employee, he is my employee which means if two of my employees are dating they should tell HR.

- You're not HR, you're the CEO.

- Maybe I multitask, how about that?

- That would be illegal and a conflict of interests, Sergeant. Besides, why are you so interested in my relationship? Are you bored of yours?

- He's just not the type of guy I would picture you with.

Of course not. Bucky had always considered Y/N would end up with someone ambitious, someone who'd crawl and give blood, sweat and tears to get what they wanted. Chris Davis, although not a complete dunce, was not that. He was smart but he wasn't innovative - what he was good at was packaging old ideals to newer audiences. He didn't come up with new marketing ideas, nothing that hadn't been done and when he did it was usually under the guide of an executive. He wasn't his worse employee but he also wasn't his best and Bucky wanted Y/N to have the best.

- Clearly. - Y/N dried her hands. - As if you have a good track record of relationships.

- Is this about Anna? Are you still pissed off because of Anna?

- You can't treat people like crap and then expect them to forgive you.

- I know but you have to understand that me and Anna ...

- You are a father first, Sergeant. You can't potentially hurt your child because you're so blinded by this stupid notion of "a real family". You and Sadie are a real family, you don't need Anna and you can't force her. If Sadie was any older she could've gotten very hurt.

- I know but if it had gone well ...

- Bucky. - Y/N interrupted him. She didn't want to be mean, she didn't want to be hateful about a woman she'd never met, specially the woman who birthed Sadie. - If you think the woman who left a baby in front of your door and has never attempted contact would suddenly change your mind, you're naive.

- You wanna know what's funny? - he moved away from the fridge to get closer to her.

Y/N almost took a step back. She didn't like being close to Bucky, it was always weird for her. Bucky, despite being her boss, was an attractive man, an attractive and imposing figure and she sometimes would find herself divided between fear of what he would say and fear of what she usually did at night when she thought of him.

- I don't think anything is funny about that situation.

- Anna would've liked you. - he said before turning around, almost happy that he'd gotten her a bit speechless for a while, happy he got to be the dominant one for a bit. - And you would've liked Anna.

- I doubt I'd like any woman who would willingly sleep with you.

- She didn't like any woman who would willingly sleep with me either. - Y/N rolled her eyes, not really understanding what Bucky was trying to get at. He was always like this, jumped over bad moments looking for some peaceful solitude in an off hand joke or confusing statement. - Are we gonna continue being mad at one another?

- Who said I was mad at you?

- Fine, if you're not mad then take my office upstairs for your meetings.

Before Y/N could reply something regarding his very flawed logic who wouldn't win him any debate, Sadie came walking through the kitchen, dragging her backpack through the floor and her yellow raincoat so Y/N could help her onto the plastic garment.

- Hey squid. - Bucky lowered down to her help, taking over Y/N to help Sadie into her raincoat. - Do you want a thermos?

- What? - she looked at him eyes wide, probably not knowing what a thermos even was. The red head looked at her au pair, looking for clues about what her dad was talking about. Y/N just smiled and shrugged. - Yes.

- See? Told you she wanted a thermos. - Bucky picked her up to kiss her cheek, directing his voice towards Y/N.

- She doesn't know what a thermos is, Bucky. - Y/N took Sadie from him.

(...)

When she returned from dropping Sadie off, buying her an overpriced uniform and a thermos which she would probably only use by the time she was 12, she found an empty house. Bucky had made good on his promise, leaving a note telling her Steve was with him as well as where to find the key to the office. The office was usually locked due to Sadie, according to Bucky, having almost gotten hurt. If Bucky's dramatic retelling was to be believed, when Sadie had started to walk she'd manage to get into the office and grab a stapler which she was keen on using until Bucky caught her. However knowing Bucky and knowing 2 year old Sadie who still struggled to reach the handles of doors, she reckoned he was overreacting or probably saw something similar in one of those "scare the parents" TV shows.

Nevertheless, the office/study had been locked and Y/N had never had been inside, yet once she got inside, it looked like what she expected Bucky to have as a work space. It was white, bright and minimalist with a few knickknacks from when he had been stationed in Italy and some first version novels which had undoubtedly came from his mother. His desk was deep mahogany, neatly kept with all contents at a 90 degree angle.

She moved to seat on his chair, putting her laptop on the middle of her desk and logging into Zoom. She waited for the right time, her eyes hoovering over everything in his desk from the gold pens, to the tape and the photo frames. He had a big photo of Sadie when she was a newborn followed by a few others, yet what called her attention were two gold circled frames - one with a photo of Sadie and Y/N when she had first started to work for them and one of Y/N and Sadie at Christmas.

She didn't allow herself to dwell much on it, she had meetings to get to. Besides, this was nothing big. It was just a photo of his daughter that he liked which Y/N happened to appear in. She had bigger fish to fry now than wondering about Bucky.

(...)

The work day wasn't any better for Bucky. Steve was being, well, Steve and to describe Steve is to describe someone who likes playing both sides to get to a decision which everyone is happy with. He knew he shouldn't have brought up the stuff about his wife, Steve would never try to break a relationship, heck he wouldn't even think it. Nevertheless, now Steve and Y/N were upset at him - maybe they can unionise and start a little "We hate Bucky", maybe they'll get branded thermos.

- Sergeant Barnes? - his assistant knocked on the door. She was pretty, very pretty and Bucky was almost certain they'd slept together ... almost. Yet today not even the pretty assistant could sort his mood out. - Christopher Davis wants to talk to you.

- Christopher Davis? - oh yes, the best way to make his day, seeing Chris Davis. - What does he want?

- He says it'll be a quick word, Sergeant Barnes. Should I send him in?

- 5 minutes. - he sighed, closing his laptop. Maybe making Chris Davis squirm would make his day, yet again, he was sure the "We hate Bucky" club would not enjoy that. Besides, it was hair washing tonight for Sadie and last time he tried, he had ended up inside the bathtub.

Chris Davis walked into the office, the mere sight of him ignoring Bucky. Did Y/N seriously find that attractive? He was so bland, so boring, the only interesting thing about him was that he was rich and Bucky was almost certain he only finished his PhD because his godmother is Professor Anderson. Nevertheless, here he was, taking a seat in one of the chairs of his office without even asking. This is the guy who gets to see Y/N naked? Life really is unfair.

- What do you need Davis?

- I know this will probably be crossing a line but I was wondering if you could let Y/N have the weekend off.

- What Y/N? - he cocked a brow at him.

- My Y/N.

- My daughter's au pair Y/N? - Bucky rested against his chair, looking down at the man in front of him. - Why?

- I was thinking of taking her to the new restaurant downtown but she said she was busy with Sadie. I wouldn't ask but it's really hard to get reservations and I got one and I would love to take her.

Oh, this was fun.

- Y/N has always had the weekends off. She doesn't work weekends unless she wants to, specially not this weekend which I'll spend at home. Besides, she doesn't have a fixed work schedule.

- Oh ...

- Maybe fix your communication issues with her before you come and waste my precious time, Davis. You can go now.

(...)

Having meeting after meeting had really wasted all energy Y/N had and to congratulate herself for not crying when someone suggested another alteration to her project with a thick French accent, she decided to cuddle against one of Bucky's many small yet cuddly cashmere blankets in the couch of the living room watching Gilmore Girls. She was close to snoozing off when the front door opened and closed. It could be Bucky, Steve or a burglar but she was much too tired to actually check.

- Oh, Y/N, do I have some gossip to share with you. - Bucky. It was Bucky and it was the first time she'd heard him say the word gossip. That couldn't be good.

He walked with a douchey smile to stand in front of the TV, sitting on top of the coffee table and staring at her, just waiting for her to question him on it and she was much too tired to avoid playing his game.

- What? Someone you fucked got pregnant?

- Someone came into my office asking about you. I didn't know that you were gonna be busy with Sadie this week. Isn't Steve taking her to Coney Island?

- What?

- You're using me and my kid as an excuse not to go out with Chris Davis? - he chuckled. - What? Is he a bad lay or something?

- Oh shut up!

- Small dick?

- This is highly unprofessional. - she turned around to face the couch.

- And sleeping on my couch isn't? C'mon, tell me, Y/N. Are you tired to pretend to orgasm or have you just figured out he's just bland.

- You're such a child! - she got up, folding the blankets so she could get away from her but he kept going after her. - Why don't you go pick up your daughter?

- Steve has her. I wanna know more, I thought everything was okay in the Y/N-Chris relationship. Is he one of those guys who cries when he cums? Is that it? Is he a crier?

- Why won't you shut up?

- Or maybe he can't find your clit. You know, he can barely find the copy room sometimes and that's way bigger.

- He is perfectly fine, I just don't want to hang out and I didn't want to hurt his feelings but because you can't lie to save your goddamn life I know have to go.

- He's taking you to Le Coucou, you may want to brush your hair before you go. The poor thing fought so hard to get reservations but obviously you prefer to eat buttered noodles with Sadie.

- I have been to Le Coucou.

- I know, I took you there. - he smirked. - And here I was thinking you'd soon start bringing your boyfriend around.

- I don't want to go. I'm tired, I need to wash Sadie's hair tonight and that will take time and I am not in the headspace to get ready.

- I'm sure Chris would love it if you came in with a soaked white t-shirt.

- You're a dick, Bucky.

Before Bucky could continue with his teasing about it, Y/N's phone started ringing. She grabbed it from the counter and put it up to her ear as she saw Sadie's school number. Bucky watched, mostly hoping it was Chris so he could tease her some more but as the colour drained from her face, he realised he wasn't. She put her phone down and looked at Bucky.

- We have to go. - Y/N looked overwhelmed, looking around fo something. - Sadie has appendicitis. They called an ambulance and she's going to the New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

- Shit. - Bucky rushed to grab his keys.

- Where's her toy, where's a toy? - Y/N started throwing pillows around, looking for Sadie's cuddly toy.

- Y/N, let's go.

- NO! - she screamed at him. - She's scared and when she's scared she needs her toy and I knew, I knew she was a bit off when I dropped her off and I should've known better and I ...

- Y/N. - he held her shoulders, stopping her in place. - I'll go find her toy, get the car going and drive there.

- But yo ...

- I'll get a cab. Now you go and stay with her, I'll meet you there with the cuddly toy. Go.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife

[whoopsyeahokay]

Wally Clark's Pre-Exuent Headcanons

He preferred baseball to football. Not that he dreamed of being a pro athlete after graduation. But if you asked him which he'd want to play more, he'd always choose baseball over football. Fewer risks of getting tackled to death...

He learned to drive when he was 10. His grandfather taught him. Mostly to get the kid to focus his energy on something. Wally had a lot of energy. His grandfather would take Wally to work with him on weekends and breaks. Taught Wally how to fix things and how to operate a tractor mower. He died 4 years after the '83 homecoming game.

One summer, Wally and his bff Jerry worked at the youth center as day camp counselors. Another, he was a bus boy at Donna's mom's restaurant in midtown. Then he worked for the local mechanic, Bud Binns. His last summer alive, Wally worked as a gravedigger in the church cemetery.

Wally wanted to be a mechanic. Wanted to travel across the States and work where he was able. Had the whole thing planned with his buddy Rodney. Post-grad road trip. Wally would make money fixing things when they needed the cash, and Rodney would work as a dishwasher in whatever diner would hire him. It was going to be awesome.

He never applied to college or university. Kept procrastinating. Felt that it wasn't really for him. Besides, if his mama had her way (which she usually did), he'd be scouted and it wouldn't matter anyway, so what was the point?

He lost his virginity to Lisa Jenkins when he was 16. In the back of his dad's pickup at the drive-in. It was embarrassing and awkward and kind of funny and he wouldn't change a thing.

Wally was a B student. He excelled in math and science. Was decent enough in English to understand a metaphor. Was naturally talented in phys-ed. He hated history. He took Spanish and French. He fucking slayed home economics.

In his free time, Wally learned to play guitar (because it was cool) and drums (because it was gnarly) and harmonica (because it annoyed the shit out of Jenny McKinnon and she was cute when she got mad).

He rode his bike everywhere he couldn't drive and drove out of town regularly to check out events in Milwaukee: Bands. Food festivals. Themed discos. Comedy shows.

He had a busy social calendar, but always made time for his grandma, spent time with his mama, and went camping with his dad when the weather was nice.

Wally knew he was going to die before he turned 21.

[cooleybladt00]

What Does Solar Panels Mean?

We use essential cookies for making our web site get the job done. We might also like to set optional cookies for analytics, to improve our website, and internet marketing, to personalize the info displayed to you. A unit with this Considerably power is ideal for extensive road excursions or at your house to power a refrigerator during power outages. We recommend solar charging for this unit, because the involved charger is similar to for Bluetti’s 1,five hundred-watt-hour device and can take all over twelve.five several hours to fully charge utilizing the wall charger. Here are a few factors to look at when you need to purchase a generator and we go through the important kinds under. This matter is CARB-compliant with thoroughly clean power, and at 74db, has the approximate noise level of a dishwasher. Yet another consumer verified, "It runs very effortlessly and is shockingly peaceful. I have experienced generators half the size of this one that were twice as loud." Alternatively, if you often go on road journeys, a solar generator is additionally worth it. Will my solar generator have a solar panel? It's ample juice to recharge a smartphone 127 instances and also a laptop computer 31 instances and will power a CPAP for 24 several hours. The Show shows you just how much output you’re working with, in addition to input and the time to vacant, which is especially helpful any time you’re from the grid. Among the first good reasons men and women individual power stations is to help keep a refrigerator managing so your highly-priced groceries don’t spoil. Unlike a light-weight bulb that never ever uses much more than its rated wattage, refrigerators have compressors that take in much more power when started out and after that simplicity again down as soon as began. The integrated MPPT demand controller raises effectiveness by thirty% when recharged which has a appropriate Goal Zero solar panel. Every little thing is backed by a two 12 months warranty. Many shoppers praised this portable power station for developing minimum noise, getting a extended-lasting battery, and staying straightforward to carry. Other individuals stated that they experienced beneficial customer care activities. Unsatisfied shoppers noted that this design died rapidly and lacked power. I choose to make the most and cost up my power financial institutions Any time I'm able to. Within the road all day? I plug it into my car charger. Stopped in a sunny forget for your weekend? A generator, by definition is a tool which really will convert some sort of Vitality to usable electricity in no matter what circuitry you've it linked to. Examples of this would be fuel generators -- normally applied as power sources for remote locations or as total-dwelling backups, electric powered generators -- not quite common, Nonetheless they transform some sort of mechanical action to electrical power and solar generators which could use solar panels to power products or homes, often using a battery to quickly retail store the energy. These batteries are often portable power stations on their own.  A portable power station is basically a giant rechargeable battery that you just have close to. Deplete it and It truly is ineffective till it is possible to recharge.  “It is apparently effectively-designed for safety, and features warnings like ‘never stick fingers instantly into your power port.’” ~ Pay attention on the approximated watt-hours Each and every model offers in its specs to determine which model tends to make the most sense for what you'd like to power.

[joylee56]

Helloooooo, Giftee? *taps mic* Are you well? Hydrated? Eating adequate vegetation? Is Tumblr being an ass-goblin and destroying these asks? I'm banking on the latter so, you know, I guess don't respond if so?

Hello, Santa.  Deepest apologies for taking so long to respond.  Real Life ™ has been shaking me by the scruff of the neck lately.  Thanksgiving, multiple snows (the first flake brings transport in my region to a screeching halt making everything take three times longer than it should) and having to replace a car have slurped up all my time the last two weeks.

So if you’ve started a story and anything I say here is at odds with what you have planned, feel free to continue as you were.  I’m sure I’ll be happy with it.  All Rumbelle/Anyelle stories are delightful.

Now returning to the notes I started back when I got your ask, before life interfered.

I hope you are looking forward to this year's Rumbelle Secret Santa as much as I am.  I have sloughed off on my Rumbelle writing lately and am hoping this will get me going again.

As to the walls.  I am simply crap at coming up with prompts.  Then I was washing dishes from my early Thanksgiving prep (did I mention my dishwasher died the weekend before Thanksgiving?  Yeah, things have been no end of fun here) anyway, I was listening to The Traveling Wilburys, as one does while doing household chores, and it occurred to me that the first line from the refrain of Tweeter and the Monkey Man would be an excellent sort of open ended prompt.

So use it any way you like.  Real walls – library, shop or home renovation; magical mishap; Norwester/tornado/hurricane/natural disaster.  Metaphorical walls – breaking out of stereotypes, trying to get out of Storybook.  Emotional – pretty much any Rumbelle story : )

While I pulled the line from Tweeter and the Monkey Man I didn’t intend to ask for anything involving the rest of the refrain or a Rumbelleing of that story.  Not only does it strike me as tough to Rumbelle (and a little depressing despite a really catchy refrain), but the Hades storyline is not my favorite.  I don’t think either Belle or Rumple were written particularly in character although Bobby and Emilie did their best with what they were given.  

Not to mention I really dislike Zelena.  Not crazy about original flavor Hook either.  They’re okay for antagonists, but not center stage.  

Love AUs.  Cursed Storybrooke, no magic, historical, role reversal, fix-it, heck coffee shop, or zombie apocalypse.  Enjoy them all.  

But whatever you’re in the mood is fine.  The way my last couple of weeks.have been going I’m more in the mood for fluff or happy ending than tragedy, but if you want to toss in a little angst along the way that’s fine,

Hope my venting does not put you off.  I didn’t realize I needed to until I got going.   I’ll tag these Joylee56 Secret Santa to make them easy to find.  And hopefully be quicker to respond and in a better mood when next I hear from you. 

[whereareroo]

HAPPY 4th

WF THOUGHTS (7/3/22).

During this beautiful Independence Day weekend, I hope that you've been listening to some patriotic music. I've been listening to some of the classics.

For some reason, the top three classics all have an unusual history. That's the story for many things in America.

Irving Berlin wrote "God Bless America" in 1918 during World War I. He didn't do anything with the song for 20 years. In 1938, with Hitler gaining power and WWII on the horizon, Berlin decided that it was time to release the song. He gave it to Kate Smith, and she sang "God Bless America" on her radio show. The rest is history. Soon, all of the radio stations were playing "God Bless America" on a daily basis.

Most of us don't remember the first verse of "God Bless America." The song was intended to be a prayer. Here's how the song really starts:

"As the storm clouds gather, far across the sea.

Let us swear allegiance, to a land that's free.

Let us all be grateful, for a land so fair.

As we raise our voices, in a solemn prayer."

You only get to "God Bless America" after that verse. Kate Smith always sang the introduction, so you'll hear it if you search for her version of the song. I'm not a big Kate Smith fan, but I always liked the fact that she sang the first verse. When I was in Catholic School, we always sang the first verse at our Glee Club performances. As prayer faded from American life, so did the first verse.

In 1939, when WWII was in its early stages, folk musician Woody Guthrie was a radio personality in California. Woody was a wacky guy, and he was open minded about socialism and communism. Due to his political leanings, he was fired from his job and he ended up in New York City. At the age of 38, he was sleeping on a friend's couch and listening to the radio. Guthrie didn't like "God Bless America," and he was annoyed that it was played on the radio constantly. He wrote "This Land Is Your Land" because he hated "God America." He wrote it in early 1940, but he didn't record it until 1944.

What was Woody Guthrie doing from 1940 until 1944? After failing to convince the Army that he should be a USO performer instead of a combat soldier, he enlisted in the Merchant Marines. During WWII, he worked on several troop transport ships as a cook and dishwasher. His last assignment was on a ship that transported troops for the D-Day invasion. His boat was torpedoed by the Germans, but it was able to get back to England safely. He returned to civilian life in 1944.

When Guthrie released "This Land Is Your Land" in 1944, it was not the same song that he had written in 1940. The original version had two verses that were critical of the United States. One verse criticized the numerous "high walls" with signs that said "private property." The other verse criticized poverty, hunger, and people waiting in lines at "relief offices." Guthrie had clearly decided that wartime was the wrong time to criticize America. Perhaps on account of those changes, "This Land Is Your Land" became a big hit.

There is also an unusual story behind "America The Beautiful." The lyrics were written, in the form of a poem, by Katharine Bates in 1893. She was a professor at Wellesley College in Massachusetts, and she wrote the poem during a summer teaching assignment in Colorado Springs. The poem was published in 1895 in a religious journal called "The Congregationalist." Fifteen years later, in 1910, a music publishing company combined the poem with a melody that had been written in 1882. The melody was written by a church organist, named Samuel Ward, from New Jersey. Ward wrote the melody when he was taking a ride on the Coney Island Ferry. Ward died in 1903. He never knew that his melody would be part of American history.

Several times in American history, there has been talk of making "America The Beautiful" our national anthem. The Star Spangled Banner is a war song, and it's so hard to sing. Nonetheless, "The Star Spangled Banner" became our national anthem in 1931.

Personally, I'm a big fan of "America The Beautiful." It's been performed by all of the top artists. I really like the rendition by Ray Charles. This weekend, take a minute to watch the "official video" of the Ray Charles version. America is beautiful! For 24 hours, let's put our differences aside and celebrate the beauty of America.

[hmslusitania]

Okay, I was tagged by @evcndiaz @spidermaneddie @buckactuallys and @littlespooneven and maybe others but I have been away from my notifications all weekend and these were the ones I could find.

rules : list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all), see if there are any patterns. choose your favorite opening line. then tag 10 authors!!! (I am not tagging anyone as I have been away and do not know who has or hasn't done it)

Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love)

“I think you’re officially ready to fly solo,” Josh says, and he waves Eddie to a desk. “Do you feel ready?”

Only Child of the Universe (And then I Found You)

It happens by accident.

Cowboy Take Me Away

It starts, as so many things do, with camels.

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Bobby says, circling everyone together in the app bay at the start of the shift. “Weather report says we’re in for a rainstorm, so you know what that means.”

Paint It Black

Eddie Diaz has been involved in his share of awkward dinners.

A Sound You Can't Quite Hear

Recovery is a long process.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online

“Thanks for helping out, man,” Eddie says, handing Buck another dish for the dishwasher.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home)

It happens so fast.

Take the Bandaid Method of Sharing Information

Thing is, Eddie’s life has flashed before his eyes more times than he’d usually care to think about.

Clockwork Things Lead the Robot Rebellion

The physical recovery hasn’t been the worst part of it.

Don't Take the Money

On Buck’s first day back to the 118, his radio alarm wakes him at six partway through Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark.”

Keep Coming Up with Love

The kid is like a brother to him, but good god.

Hold Me Like a Keepsake

“And that is the last box,” Eddie says.

Autcowrecked (which is to date the best title I have ever given anything ever)

Eddie doesn’t totally remember when it started, but ever since Chris has gotten into videogames with stories to them, Buck has been playing through them first – on Eddie’s behalf – to check the content.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face

There is an upsettingly hot guy in the lobby of the therapist’s office.

What's Died Will Never Stay Dead

Bobby is drunk on the roof of his building and it’s burning below him.

We Knew that We Were Destined to Explode

The night they got together was the first of four consecutive days off for both of them and Eddie is beyond grateful for this.

His Name is Buck, Actually

The wrong Buckleys are in the station.

I tried to make this less annoyingly longpost but oh well.

Pattern: The vast majority of my fics start with a short, factual statement. The ones that don't start with dialogue setting the scene. My favourite has to either be "It starts, as so many things do, with camels" or "there is an upsettingly hot guy in the lobby of the therapists office."

[mediocre--writing]

hiiiiiii :D

i’m going to give you both a harringrove and a kegboys thing

harringrove: the mindflayer didn’t kill billy and billy spent months recovering. when he was let out he didn’t speak to people. but steve was the only one capable of holding onto the patience enough for billy to eventually start talking to him. billy gets a job at a slow business convenient store/gas station. and steve meets him to have lunch together outside in the back every day.

kegboys: steve had a pine tree at the front of his house with a yellow ribbon for barb. and one year billy cuts it down without knowing about its significance. steve eventually finds out what happened and tommy had to take him to the other room before telling billy what he’d done. they spend the day making steve feel better by getting a brand new tree and retying a ribbon even bigger than before.

oooooh these are both so good.

Harringrove: I think that, especially after Steve's whole fiasco with the Russians, he doesn't mind the quietness that comes with Billy. Doesn't mind waiting for him to speak because Steve himself does't really know what he would even say.

Steve's parents, after his 18th birthday, pretty much never came home. They had like seven other houses elsewhere and Steve was his own functioning adult, so they, frankly, didn't give two shits. So Billy stays with him. Plus, Steve's got no job after the mall burned down and his parents are still paying for the house and everything, it's not like it's much of an issue.

They bond in a silent way. Billy can't talk. Like physically, for the first three-ish months, can't get his voice to come out in any understandable fashion, as having a tentacle forced down his throat pretty much ripped at every bit of skin there.

But they communicate. Steve is used to his lonely life in a mansion and just appreciates another body being there that makes it not so lonely.

They function around each other. Whoever gets up first makes the coffee, whoever goes to sleep last turns the main lights off. Whoever opens the clean dishwasher has to empty it and whoever tracks the most snowy footprints in has to mop next.

The first time Billy really talks to Steve is after a nightmare. But not from Billy (he's become really good at controlling how loud his whimpers and crying can get, even asleep [fuk u neil🖕]). Steve is pretty much screaming bloody murder in his sleep and Billy can barely get up the tall staircase as it is, but mixed with sleep and his rush, he slips a few times trying to get to Steve, thinking something is really wrong.

By the time he bursts into Steve’s room, Steve is sitting straight up in bed staring at the blurry light while trying to catch his breath. Billy cautiously walks up to him, flips on a lamp light so there wouldn’t be any in-the-dark scares for Steve, and sits across from him on the edge of the bed. 

Steve ultimately just collapses into Billy’s chest and sobs and sobs and sobs until he’s got it all out and the only thing that can be heard are Steve’s unsteady breaths and Billy’s reassurances. It’s the softest Steve thinks he’s ever heard Billy speak to anyone. 

Steve starts sleeping in the guest room downstairs with Billy after another incident when he starts screaming occurs because it wears Billy down a lot to battle the stairs (his muscles are worn thin and he has very little strength these days). Steve stirs in his sleep but hasn’t panicked like that since he started cuddling with Billy. 

Joyce eventually pulls some strings and gets Billy a job at Melvald's (small town business start picking up after Starcourt burning down) where he can just sit in a chair at the front and check people out. Occasionally she’ll have him stock small things like keychains or the snacks at checkout. 

Steve visits most days during Billy’s break time. Brings take out from Benny’s or leftovers that Mrs. Henderson insisted on dropping off every other week because the boys “needed good, homemade food that they wouldn’t make for themselves.” 

Billy has never felt more taken care of in his life and enjoys the gentle breeze when he and Steve chat behind Melvald’s and eat, sharing what’s happened during the few hours they’d spent apart or discussing what their weekend plans would be. Maybe what they were hungry for for dinner that night. 

One day, when they’re eating a tuna casserole straight out of the Tupperware Mrs. Henderson had put it in, a stray cat comes and kneads gently at Billy’s thigh, over his jeans, and he puts a bit of the casserole on a napkin for the small kitty. 

It becomes a routine and eventually he brings out a can of cat food from the store to feed the cat when he takes his breaks. They call her Melly (after Melvald’s, of course) and eventually she finds a way to sneak into the Camaro and becomes a full-fledged, sassy, rude house cat that has to sleep in the bed with the boys every night or she will scream her little cat scream and scratch at the door until they let her in. 

Kegboys: (ok I tweaked this just a tad bc I couldn’t find a reason for billy to just chop down a random tree) Steve planted the tree after she’d passed away. He didn’t know how to feel about it. He felt awful, of course. He goaded her into drinking with them just because he wanted Nancy and look where that got him. He basically killed a girl and he lost his girlfriend.

He plants this tree, it’s thin and just taller than he is, but every year, after winter ends and plants bloom again, he ties a beautiful yellow bow around the thickest branch near the trunk. He looks at it every morning through the window, the small pine tree at the end of the driveway. 

Only Tommy was there that night, the night a few weeks after it had all “ended” (the first time) and Steve breaks down. Sobs like he never has before, talking in fragmented sentences about how he’s to blame, he killed Barb out of teenage ignorance and because he wanted to have sex with Nancy Wheeler. What a fuckin’ waste. 

Tommy is actually the one who suggests they plant the tree in the first place, a life now gone for a life yet to live. Steve takes care of that tree like if it died, he would too. 

Steve ties a ribbon on it the first year. Tommy adds a second the next year. 

Nobody else really cares. It’s a tree, not a giant portrait of the girl, for crying out loud. Nobody says anything about the bow that gets put on the tree because nobody would put together that the tree represented Barb, it’s just a tree to everyone else. 

Billy wasn’t around for the beginning. He knew that a girl close to Nancy and Steve had died, sure, but he hadn’t known that it was in Steve’s pool and he never knew about the pine tree that grew at the top of the driveway. 

There was a storm, a big one right at the tail end of summer, one that ripped up plants and trees and shingles off of houses, flooded the ditches and low points in the town. 

Billy takes it upon himself to try and fix the Harrington’s trashed yard once the storms let up. He rakes away all the pine straw that had descended and piles up all the large branches and debris. There’s a tree, the pine tree that usually stands tall at the end of the driveway, that was severed at the base, only a mere three or four feet still protruding from the ground, the rest split and resting, half connected, on the ground. 

Billy breaks off the part that was already off, puts it in the pile with the rest of the debris. 

The stump stays at the end of the driveway and Billy goes inside, walks up to Steve and Tommy in the living room after washing his hands and grabbing some water. Tells them that he straightened up the yard. 

“And that tree at the end was broken, so I picked off the part left hanging and put it on the fire pile. I figure we can find something else to plant in it later this week or--”

He’s cut off by Steve jumping off the couch and running out of the front door. He stands a few feet away from the stump left over and falls, bare knees hitting the still damp and muddy ground as he shows no other reaction. 

Tommy’s right behind him, holds his shoulders from behind as he stares at the tree. Billy, from behind Tommy, doesn’t ask a question but stares confusedly at the boys who seem distraught by the disappearance of a seemingly meaningless tree. 

Gentle coaxing, “C’mon, Steve. It’s alright, it’ll grow back and we can buy more ribbon, I promise, but you have to come inside, you’re all muddy,” from Tommy convinced Steve to come inside. 

With no care for how his mother would react to her perfectly white rug being ruined by the dirt, Steve trudges through and eventually lays on the couch, cradling a pillow to his chest while Tommy promises to make him something warm to drink. 

He beckons Billy into the kitchen with him as he puts the kettle on the burner, enough water for all three of them to have tea, and turns to Billy. 

“Why’s he so upset about a tree?” Billy didn’t mean for it to sound harsh or inconsiderate, he was just curious why Steve seemed so distraught over a pine tree that was nowhere near as tall as the ones that were around the house. 

“Ok, so, you know Barb, the girl that died here?”

“She died here!?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Well nobody talks about it, how was I supposed to know?” 

“You should--Nevermind, anyway, she died here because of the whole other-world-monster-guy and Steve blamed himself for it, for, like, ever,” Tommy rested his elbows on the counter, “So, when he finally told me about it, we wanted to do something for her, like a memorial thing, anyway, we decided on a tree and he always ties the yellow ribbon around it and he takes care of it like it’s a child, but it’s gone so--”

“--He feels like he let her die again. Like it was his fault,” Billy concludes. 

“Yeah,” Tommy assures before turning to the cupboards and pulling down three mugs, pouring the hot water in before placing tea bags in each. 

“I mean, is there anything we can do? I feel awful, but the tree was already snapped, I couldn’t have like mended it or anything. I swear it wasn’t intentional,”

“You wouldn’t have known, it’s not your fault. I think Steve just feel a little out of his own mind at the moment, like he lost the hold he had on her. I really don’t know,”

Billy and Tommy stayed on the couch with Steve that day, they just rested and drank tea, listen to soft music on the radio, and took care of the droopy brunet. 

They didn’t replace the tree. They let the old one stay and made sure to take excellent care of it. They’d tie three ribbons on the tree every year, made sure they were tied tightly, the tree growing faster and more prosperous than before, and Steve was better. 

He realized that sometimes you have to get cut down before you can really unveil your true potential, that a little extra love can do wonders. 

[fireladybuckley]

Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck

Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairing: Evan Buckley (Buck) x Eddie Diaz (Buddie) Word Count: 4,236 Summary:  Buck has never particularly liked Valentine’s Day.  Eddie is determined to show him that V-Day is not just about buying jewelry and flowers, but about showing your loved ones just how special they are to you. Rating: PG Author’s note: This is so fluffy your teeth may rot.  You were warned ;)

               “Do you want to do anything for Valentine’s day on Sunday?” Eddie asked as he slid the last plate into the dishwasher and closed the door.  Buck walked over to where Eddie was standing, placing his glass in the sink, then turned to face him.

             “I don’t know,” Buck shrugged, “I’ve never really been a huge fan of Valentine’s Day.”

             “Because you almost died on your first date with Abby?” Eddie asked, a teasing note in his voice as he gently bumped Buck with his hip.  Buck shot him a look and rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.

            “I mean, that doesn’t help,” Buck replied, laughing a little.  “Nah, I’ve just always thought it was a marketing ploy that doesn’t actually mean anything.”

             Eddie cocked his head to the side, looking at Buck curiously.  

             “That seems pretty cynical, coming from you,” Eddie said, reaching out to take one of Buck’s hands, pulling him closer.

             “What do you mean ‘coming from me’?” Buck asked, allowing himself to be moved, sliding closer along the counter until his hip was against Eddie’s side.

             “Well, you’re always so… open with your affection,” Eddie pointed out, and Buck smiled, leaning closer and giving Eddie a kiss on the cheek as though to prove his point.  “I thought you’d embrace a day dedicated to the celebration of love.”

             “Ah,” Buck shrugged again, tossing his head to the side.  “I mean, if that’s all it was about, sure.  But I hate the emphasis on buying expensive gifts being the right way to show you care… it’s just…” 

 Buck paused, searching for the right words, his mouth scrunched to the side as he thought.

 “It’s just so materialistic. Fancy trinkets aren’t the way I know someone loves me… the way they act and the things they say are what do that.”

             “That’s fair,” Eddie conceded, smiling as Buck pressed closer to his side, slipping an arm behind him.  “That makes more sense.”

             “Good,” Buck said, turning to face Eddie and looping his arms loosely around Eddie’s neck.  “Besides, I’m working on Sunday and you’re not.  If you really want to, we can celebrate next weekend.”

             Eddie automatically reached up to pull Buck close as he faced him, wrapping his arms around Buck’s hips.  Buck smiled and leaned in close, bumping his forehead against Eddie’s, shifting his arms so his hands were playing with the ends of Eddie’s hair in the back.

             “Whatever makes you happy,” Eddie said lightly, tilting his head upwards and catching Buck’s lips with his own, pulling Buck’s chest in against his as he kissed him.  Buck’s heart skipped a beat, one of his hands slipping down Eddie’s back and holding him close, the other slipping upwards into his hair.  The kiss didn’t deepen, but Buck still felt a little light headed when he pulled away a few moments later, biting his lower lip slightly as he looked down at Eddie.

             “You make me happy,” Buck said softly, pulling Eddie into his embrace.  Buck leaned his cheek on the side of Eddie’s head as they hugged, and Buck sighed happily.  Just being in Eddie’s arms like this had always made him feel so safe, so loved.  Why would he ever need flowers or chocolates to know that Eddie cared?  Buck already knew how much Eddie cared by the way his hand trailed over Buck’s back when they passed each other in the kitchen, making dinner for Christopher.  Or the way Eddie held him, protecting him late at night after he’d woken up in a cold sweat, his dreams tormenting him once more.  Or the way Eddie kissed him and told him he loved him, how he’d never loved anyone how he loves him now.  Buck couldn’t think of any Valentine’s Day nonsense that could ever make him feel anything more.

 *  *  *  *

             Most of Sunday came and went in a flurry of calls, and Buck yawned as he tiredly unlocked the door, taking three tries to get the key in properly through his continued yawning.   It was nearly eleven o’clock at night so he was as quiet as he could be, not wanting to wake Christopher.  He finally got the door open and without thinking pushed it with his shoulder, wincing at the twinge of pain in his arm.  He’d twisted his arm on a call that night, wrenching his shoulder to the side, and though it wasn’t dislocated (Hen had forced him to sit still for five minutes to check for sure), it was sore. 

             Buck’s senses were slow with how exhausted he was feeling, and he’d fully entered the house, taken off his shoes and closed and locked the door before he noticed the scents wafting towards him.  Buck hung his keys up on the hook by the door and followed his nose to the kitchen, where the last thing he expected to see was laid out before him, having completely forgotten that it was Valentine’s Day to begin with.

             On the kitchen table sat two places, fully set, a bottle of Buck’s favourite beer at each, a large bowl overturned on either plate, clearly hiding some kind of food.  There was a plate in the middle of the table which held slices of garlic bread that smelled so good Buck’s stomach growled loudly in anticipation, and as Buck looked around, he spotted a box of cupcakes on the far kitchen counter.  Eddie was standing at the sink and turned as he heard Buck enter the room, watching him take in the scene.

             “What did you do?” Buck asked in amazement, his mouth open in surprise, stepping into the room and looking over at Eddie, who seemed happy at his reaction but also a touch nervous.  “Did you cook for me?”

             Eddie opened his arms as Buck walked over to him, pulling him into a hug and giving him a quick kiss on the lips as they always did when one or the other of them came home.

             “Yeah, I did,” Eddie said, and Buck noticed with amusement that Eddie’s chest was puffed up a little.  “I made everything from scratch.”

             “Should I be worried?” Buck teased, his arms still around Eddie’s middle, as Eddie pretended to scowl up at him.

             “Hey, I’m getting better, okay?” Eddie protested, and Buck laughed and leaned down, kissing him again, smiling against Eddie’s lips as he felt Eddie huff slightly in indignation and then melt into the kiss.

             “It’s true, Christopher hasn’t complained to me about your cooking in weeks,” Buck told him, laughing as Eddie gaped at him, pouting for real for a moment.

             “Christopher complains about my food to you?” Eddie asked, both amused and indignant, and Buck grinned at him, planting a kiss on his forehead.

             “Only a little,” Buck chuckled as Eddie rolled his eyes and gently pushed Buck away so that he could grab a dish containing grated parmesan cheese and set it on the table.

             “Sit,” Eddie said, gesturing to a chair, and Buck did as he was told, sitting himself down in the proffered chair and looking down eagerly at his plate.   Eddie stood beside him and slowly lifted the bowl, then pulled it away with a flourish once it had cleared the plate.  Buck’s stomach snarled as the aroma of tomatoes, herbs and other flavours hit him in the face like a wave, and he felt himself start salivating.

             “You made me spaghetti from scratch?” Buck asked, reaching out for Eddie’s hand and looking up at him in amazement.  “That must have taken hours, what did I do to deserve this?”

             “You deserve everything just for being you,” Eddie told him fondly, leaning down at kissing him gently, trailing his fingers over Buck’s neck and making him shiver.  “But I still wanted to do something for you for Valentine’s Day.”

             “Well, I am impressed,” Buck marvelled, picking up his fork and lifting some of the pasta, looking at the dish.  “This looks incredible.  And smells even better.”

             “Thanks.” 

Eddie tried to hide how proud he was of himself as he moved to the other side of the table and sat down in his seat, setting the two bowls aside and offering Buck some parmesan cheese for his pasta. Eddie tossed some onto his own food and was twirling his fork in the spaghetti when he caught sight of Buck’s face and noticed his expression had fallen.

             “What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, immediately assuming the worst about the food, looking down at Buck’s plate and trying to see if he’d tasted it yet.  “Need more cheese?”

             “No,” Buck let out a soft laugh, then screwed up his face into an adorable grimace, giving a shrug.  “I just feel bad.  You went to all this trouble for me and I didn’t get you anything.”

             “You don’t have to do anything for me, Buck,” Eddie said, reaching across the table and squeezing the back of Buck’s hand.   “You show me how much you love me every day of the year.”

             “You do too,” Buck protested, turning his hand over and gripping Eddie’s.

             “I know,” Eddie shook his head.  “But I wanted to show you that Valentine’s Day doesn’t just have to be about the materialistic crap the media tries to sell you.  Besides, you worked hard all day, you deserve this.”

             Buck sat there, feeling both bad that he’d not gotten Eddie anything but also incredibly touched at what Eddie had done for him.  He looked down at his LAFD t-shirt and old jeans, and sighed as he realized something else.

             “Also I don’t exactly look like a great dinner date,” Buck said, gesturing to his face, which still had soot and other dirt smeared on it in places, and he knew his hair was still damp from sweating in his helmet, so it was likely flat in some places and curly in others.    

             “You look amazing, as you always do,” Eddie assured him, smiling.  “I think you’re adorable when you’re all dirty like that anyway.”

             Buck felt his cheeks warm and ducked his head at the compliments, admittedly feeling a little better.  Buck squeezed Eddie’s hand once more and then let go, taking up his fork instead.

             Eddie was suddenly nervous as Buck loaded up his fork, shoving the first bite into his mouth with no hesitation.  Eddie bit his lip and watched Buck’s face as he chewed, waiting.  After a moment, Buck’s eyes closed and he let out a groan of happiness, and Eddie relaxed, grinning as Buck’s eyes fluttered open again.

             “That is delicious,” Buck gasped, barely swallowing his food before he spoke.  “How did you learn to cook like this?!  This has gotta be the best thing you’ve ever made.”

             “Honestly? The food network,” Eddie admitted, feeling embarrassed, but Buck just smiled at him as he dug his fork in again. 

             “Nothing wrong with that,” Buck told him as he took his second bite, making another happy noise that made Eddie smile.   Eddie cracked Buck’s beer for him and then dug into his own food.   He had to admit, Buck was right.  This was easily the best thing he’d ever cooked on his own and even he enjoyed it.  Buck devoured his meal, ravenous as he usually was after a shift, clearing his whole plate and three pieces of garlic bread before he leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded, a hand on his stomach.

             “That was amazing,” Buck groaned, closing his eyes and leaning his head on the back of the chair.  Eddie was still working on his food and laughed, shaking his head.  Buck always ate a lot faster than him, but Eddie was pleased with how much he had enjoyed it as well.  Eddie let him have a brief food coma as he finished his spaghetti, Buck not stirring until he heard Eddie stand and start collecting dishes.

             “Don’t you dare,” Eddie said from the other side of the kitchen, as Buck started to stand and had just grabbed a plate.

             “What?  The least I can do is help you clean up,” Buck said indignantly, picking up his empty beer bottle and moving towards the sink.  Eddie took the plate and bottle from his hands and pointed back in the direction he’d come from.

             “Sit,” Eddie ordered him.  “There’s not that many dishes, I can handle it.”

             “But-“

             “Buck.”

             “Okay, fine,” Buck relented, going back to his chair and sitting down again, making a face at Eddie as he returned to collect the last of the dishes on the table, making him laugh.

             “D’you have room for dessert?” Eddie asked, bringing over a small box of four chocolate cupcakes.  Buck’s stomach was full, but the second the chocolate scent hit his nose he felt himself start drooling again.

             “Always,” Buck grinned, reaching out and taking one.  “Did you make these too?!”

             “No,” Eddie laughed.  “It’s the only thing I bought.  You know I suck at baking.”

             “Yeah, we are definitely buying Christopher’s birthday cake this year,” Buck chuckled, remembering the lopsided, weirdly wet cake that Eddie had attempted the year before.  Eddie pretended to be offended but he wasn’t, really.  He just couldn’t seem to get the hang of baking and he’d made peace with it.

             “These are so good,” Buck groaned after he’d finished his, licking chocolate icing from his fingers.  “I really want that other one but I’m about to explode.”

             “Later,” Eddie told him.  “Or tomorrow is probably better.  If you eat chocolate right before bed you’re going to have weird dreams again.”

             Buck shrugged, but knew Eddie was probably right.  Buck yawned widely, the carbs making him feel even sleepier than he had before, his eyes closing.  He would have fallen asleep right then and there in his chair, but Eddie took his hand and he opened his eyes somewhat reluctantly, looking up at him.

             “Come on, you can’t sleep yet,” Eddie told him, and Buck sighed, forcing himself to stand.

             “I know, I still have to shower,” Buck yawned again, running a hand through his damp hair.  “I’ll go now.”

             “No, bedroom first,” Eddie told him and Buck crooked an eyebrow at him curiously.  “Just go, you’ll see.”

             Buck headed towards the bedroom instead, and as Eddie flicked on the light, Buck saw that he’d pulled the duvet back on the bed and laid a few towels down.

             “What is this?” Buck asked slowly, his eyes slipping along the bed and to the bedside table, where he spotted a small bottle that hadn’t been there before.

             “Take off your shirt and lie down,” Eddie said, moving over to the bedside table and picking up the little bottle, returning to Buck’s side and popping it open, lifting the bottle until it was under his nose.  Buck inhaled and smiled as the spicy scent of cinnamon tickled his nose.

             “That smells really good, what is it?” Buck asked, as Eddie took it away.

             “Massage oil.  Take off your shirt,” Eddie said again, smiling, but insistent. 

             A grin slowly spread across Buck’s face at the prospect of getting a massage and he immediately crossed his arms in front of him, gripping his shirt and pulling upwards.  A moment later he let out a gasp of pain, his shirt halfway up his chest.  He’d forgotten about his arm in the pleasurable carb-induced haze of dinner, but now he felt it twinge painfully as he tried to lift his shirt.

             “What was that?” Eddie asked immediately, not missing the sound and instantly on high alert as Buck clumsily took over the movement of removing his shirt with his uninjured arm, bending his nose as he pulled awkwardly until the shirt popped off his head. 

             “Nothing, I’m fine,” Buck said, trying to play it off as he fired his t-shirt at the hamper and missed, which would usually have earned him an eye roll from Eddie.  But this time Eddie was frowning at him, knowing he was lying.  Buck tried to look innocent, but Eddie raised an eyebrow at him and Buck sighed.

             “It’s nothing, I just twisted my arm on a call a few hours ago and it’s still sore,” Buck said with a shrug, inwardly cringing as his shoulder ached just from the act of shrugging.  Apparently, it wasn’t as inward as Buck thought because Eddie immediately stepped forward and reached out, very gently palpating his fingers over Buck’s shoulder.

             “Hen already checked, it’s not dislocate- ow!”  Buck gasped as Eddie’s fingers found a particularly painful spot, wincing.

             “Sorry.  But that’s not nothing, even if it’s not dislocated,” Eddie said, gently kissing the spot he’d prodded too hard and made Buck smile. 

             “Does this mean I don’t get a massage?” Buck asked sadly, but Eddie laughed, swatting him on the ass.

             “Of course it doesn’t, go lie down.  I’ll just be very careful around that shoulder.” 

             Grinning, Buck pulled off his jeans and lay down on the bed in his boxers, chest down.  Buck folded his arms under his head and rested his cheek on them as he felt Eddie lean on the bed beside him.  Buck had to admit, he was very excited about being pampered like this.  After working all day and evening, he had been so hungry, sore and tired when he got home that even just dinner had seemed like the greatest thing in the world.  And now he was getting a massage, too?  Buck could get used to this kind of treatment.

             Eddie let a few drops of the oil drip onto Buck’s bare back, smiling as the younger man gasped from the chill of the liquid. The oil quickly heated to the temperature of Buck’s skin as Eddie leaned over and smoothed it over his back.  Buck shivered and Eddie watched goosebumps appear over his shoulders and down his arms.  Chuckling, Eddie slowly spread the oil over every inch of Buck’s back, smiling at the small noise of happiness Buck made at the feeling of Eddie’s hands slipping over his skin. 

             Eddie watched, mesmerized, as his fingers slipped effortlessly over Buck’s skin, the way it gently pushed up in front of his thumb and then smoothed out as he pressed past.   Eddie could see Buck’s muscles ripple as he moved, shifting his position, and Eddie had to swallow a sudden wave of lust that shot through him.  He knew Buck was exhausted; tonight was a night of pampering and soft touches; they could have the other type of fun in bed the next day, after Buck had slept.

             Buck moaned softly as Eddie dug his fingers and thumbs into Buck’s muscles, working out the knots and sore spots from all the physical work required of them on the job.  Buck had all but melted under his touch, his face pressed hard into his arms as he groaned in pleasure.  Eddie carefully avoided Buck’s injured shoulder but massaged everywhere else, and Buck nearly fell into a deep sleep, he was so relaxed. 

             “Your hands are magic,” Buck murmured, half comatose, as Eddie worked out a knot in Buck’s (uninjured) trap.  Eddie let out a breath of laughter, raking his fingers down the centre of Buck’s back from his neck to his butt, then repeating the motion on the outer edge of his back.  He continued to massage Buck in different ways for another few minutes before he finally finished, trailing his fingers with a featherlight touch down Buck’s spine, making him shiver again.

             “Come on,” Eddie said softly, wiping his oil-covered hands on one of the towels.  “Let’s get you into the shower.”

             Buck made a sleepy noise of protest but slowly rose, using Eddie’s arm for support as he stood, feeling a bit wobbly.

             “That felt so good,” Buck said, his voice still low and crackling a bit with the depth of his relaxation.  “Thank you.”

             “No need to thank me,” Eddie responded, tilting his head up and bumping his nose with Buck’s, giving him a light kiss.  Slipping an arm around Buck’s back, Eddie led him into their bathroom and turned on the dual showerhead.  Eddie quickly stripped as Buck tossed his boxers and they climbed into the shower together.   This wasn’t unusual; they often showered together both to save time and to fool around, but tonight Eddie had something softer in mind.

             Buck had already grabbed the shampoo bottle when Eddie reached for it, plucking it from his hands. 

             “Get your hair wet,” Eddie told him, watching the water pour over Buck’s head and plaster his hair down to his face as he obeyed.  Buck emerged from the water and shook his head like a dog, splattering Eddie with water, looking absolutely adorable as the moisture immediately brought out his curls.

             “Turn around,” Eddie laughed, pouring shampoo into his hands as Buck turned, nearly slipping on the wet tile.  Eddie reached out a hand to steady him and Buck let out a slightly embarrassed laugh, then put the shampoo bottle down.  Eddie reached up and began to work the shampoo into Buck’s hair, massage his curls until the bubbles were dripping down his neck.

             Buck began telling Eddie about the call that had gotten his arm twisted and Eddie listened as he washed and then rinsed Buck’s hair, then worked conditioner into it.  Buck groaned again as Eddie gave him a scalp massage, his fingers slipping easily through Buck’s hair once it was saturated with conditioner.  Buck nearly fell over as his knees went weak and had to steady himself on the shower wall, Eddie laughing as Buck tilted his head backwards in his enthusiasm, clearly wanting more.

             Eventually Eddie stopped massaging Buck’s head and helped him rinse the conditioner out, then soaped up a washcloth and began moving it over him.  For once, Buck held still and smiled, sighing contentedly as Eddie slipped the soapy cloth over his skin, cleaning all the sweat of the day away.  Buck’s eyes followed Eddie’s as Eddie reached up and gently washed away the soot clinging to Buck’s cheeks, closing his eyes as he moved up to the streak of ash on his forehead, feeling his heart swelling with love for the other man.  Eddie held the cloth in one hand and gently rubbed over Buck’s sore shoulder in the hot water, trying to ease the discomfort.  Buck made a soft noise of pain, almost a whimper, and Eddie eased off, not wanting to hurt him.

                         Buck reached for the cloth as Eddie finished, intent on returning the favour of washing him, but Eddie held it fast, pulling it away from him.

             “I already showered earlier, I just wanted to wash you,” he said, as Buck made a noise of protest and grabbed for the cloth.

             “But, I wanted…” Buck trailed off, and Eddie smiled, shaking his head. 

             “Not tonight, Buck.”   Eddie pulled his hand and got him out of the shower, wrapping a towel around him and throwing him a second towel for his hair.  As Buck dried himself off, Eddie went back into the bedroom and got rid of the towels, turning down the duvet and shutting off all lights but one.  He joined Buck in the bathroom and they brushed their teeth, then headed back into the bedroom.

             Buck pulled on a clean pair of boxers and plopped himself down on the bed, his hair adorably ruffled from the towel as he turned his head to see where Eddie had gone.  Eddie climbed into bed and lay on his side, opening his arms, and Buck rolled over and lay down with his back to Eddie.  Eddie looped an arm around him and pulled until Buck scooted backwards, his back eventually pressing into Eddie’s chest.

             “Did you enjoy your Valentine’s Day?” Eddie asked after a moment, stroking the skin on Buck’s side with his hand absently, breathing in the smell of Buck’s shampoo.  He heard Buck give a soft laugh, and could tell by his tone when he spoke that he had a rueful expression on his face.

             “Yeah, I really did,” he admitted.  “You really made me feel special.”

             “Good,” Eddie said, smiling in satisfaction.  “That was my goal.  And I didn’t even buy you anything fancy.”

             “Except the cupcakes, because you suck at baking,” Buck teased, turning his head upwards to look at Eddie out of the corner of his eye.  Eddie pinched Buck’s ass cheek in retaliation, laughing as Buck yelped, his lower body shooting forwards for a moment to avoid a second pinch, then he joined in the laugh.

             “Yes, fine, except the cupcakes,” Eddie groused, propping himself up on and pressing a kiss to Buck’s neck, making the other man shudder, his body relaxing back against Eddie’s once more.

             “I love you,” Buck told him, turning his head as far as he could.  Eddie pushed himself up more and leaned over, giving Buck a gentle kiss, stroking his fingers through his damp curls.

             “I love you too.”

             Eddie reached over to turn off the light and lay back down behind Buck, throwing an arm over his side and splaying his hand over Buck’s belly, pulling him closer.  They settled in and after a few moments, Buck murmured into the darkness, so quietly that Eddie could barely hear.

             “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this relaxed.”  Eddie smiled at the words, pressing a kiss to the back of Buck’s shoulder, and closing his eyes.

             “Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck.”

                                              �� -----------------

Hope you enjoyed!  Reblogs and comments absolutely make my day!

Happy Valentine’s day!

-----

If you would like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list, please send me a message or an ask!

Tag list: @outside-the-government​​ @littlecarowrites​​ @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse​​ @stormsnevercometostay​​ @southernbellestatues  @mad-girl-without-a-box​​ @reading-in-moonlight @diekatimitdemhutohnehut​  @inuhimesblog​

[starryknight09]

Spiderman has allergies?

Febuwhump Day 24: allergies

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“Peter’s here!” Pepper called up to him from downstairs.

Tony finished putting his laundry away.  He’d become so domesticated ever since Morgan was born and he complained about it even though he secretly loved it.  His family was the most important thing to him now.  He smiled at that thought.  If the Tony from twenty years ago could see him now.

“Do you want some pasta honey?” Tony heard Pepper ask as he made his way down the stairs.  “I just finished and there’s plenty left over.”

“Um maybe just a little?  Ned and I had lunch before I left.” Peter answered and there was something about his voice that made Tony frown.

“Hey kid.” He greeted as soon as he came into the kitchen and found a seat next to Peter at the counter.

“Hey Tony.” Peter responded and again there was something off about the way he sounded.

Pepper finished dishing up the pasta for Peter and slid a full plate across the counter to him.

“Thanks.” Peter said, always with the perfect manners.  Thank god Morgan was picking up on some of that.  The instant the thought passed through his mind, he felt bad.  Peter’s aunt had died in a car accident in the intervening five years between the snap and its reversal, and of course Tony had taken him in, but improving Morgan’s manners definitely wasn’t worth the loss of his kid’s mother figure.

“Are you hungry?” Pepper asked him as he watched Peter dig into his pasta.  When he looked over at her, she arched an eyebrow at him, so he knew the question had only been a courtesy.

“I’m starving.” He nodded.  It wasn’t a lie.  He’d only had coffee for breakfast.  

“Where’s Morgan?” Peter asked and Tony finally put his finger on what was wrong with his kid’s voice.  It sounded nasally.

“She spent the night at friend’s house.  Tony’s going to pick her up this afternoon.” Pepper said.

“Wow that’s…” Peter let whatever he was going to say trail off.

“That’s what?” Tony asked.

“Brave?  I mean I always thought you were kind of a helicopter dad…”

Tony raised his eyebrows at him.

“…so that must be hard for you?” Peter finished.

“No.  It’s fine.” He denied and Pepper snorted as she handed his plate of pasta to him.  Peter didn’t need to know the details of the hours long discussion they’d had before agreeing to let Morgan stay overnight at her friend’s house, Pepper being for it and Tony being adamantly against it.

Peter smirked and went back to eating.  Tony took a few bites of his food but side eyed the kid, trying to figure out whey something wasn’t right about the way he sounded.  Had he broken his nose and it healed wrong?  It looked fine.  

Peter finished his plate of pasta in record time.  “Thanks Pepper.” He said as he got up to rinse his plate and put in the dishwasher.

Tony took another bite of his own food as his eyes narrowed.  Peter’s sentence had come out sounding more like ‘Danks Pebber.’

“You’re welcome.” Pepper said automatically but then shot a look over at Tony.  She’d obviously caught on to Peter’s weird voice too.  He gave her a subtle nod.

“So Pete,” he said as he finished his own meal, “what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much.” Peter shrugged.  “Ned got a new pet.”

“Uh huh.” Tony frowned at him.  “Why do you sound like your nose is broken?”

Peter rolled his eyes and started walking away toward the couch.  “It’s not.  I’m fine.”  Even though it came out sounding like ‘It’s nob.  I’m fibe.’

Tony put his plate in the dishwasher and followed Peter to the couch.  “Ok then, if your nose isn’t broken, why do you sound all weird?”

“Allergies.” Peter answered as he flicked through the different channels on the TV.

“You?” Tony asked sarcastically.  “Have allergies?”

“Apparently.” Peter shrugged, unaffected.

“Even with your spider powers?”

“Apparently.” Peter repeated.

“Seems a little odd.” Tony opined.  “Are you sure you’re not sick?”

Peter shook his head and denied, “I’m not sick.”

“How do you know?”

“I think I would know.” Peter said, arching an eyebrow at him.  “Like I’d feel bad and I don’t, so it must be allergies.”

“Uh huh.” Tony nodded.  “Sure.  You’re not sick.  Nothing’s wrong.  You just have allergies you’ve never had before.”

“I haven’t been sick since the spider bite either so why would that make any more sense?”

The kid had a point there.  After coming back from the snap he’d lived with them for almost a year and he’d never gotten sick, although that could’ve been luck.  Now that he’d gone off to college and lived with Ned, Tony worried.

“Ok so you sound like your nose is broken because of allergies…” He still couldn’t bring himself to truly believe it.

“That’s what I said.” Peter huffed.

“You sure you don’t want to get some rest?  Or I could get you a juice box?” He offered.

“I’m not sick!” Peter protested.

“All right whatever you say.” Tony let it go but watched Peter like a hawk for the rest of the weekend, but Peter never gave him any indication that something was wrong.

**********

“Tony!” Peter yelled.  Tony jerked his head up and smacked it on the bottom of Morgan’s bunk bed that he was in the middle of putting together.  He rubbed his scalp and brought his hand away, looking at it.  No blood.  Well at least he hadn’t cracked his head open.

“Tony?” Peter called out again.

“Up here!” He answered.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked a moment later in the doorway.

“Trying to put this bed together.” Tony complained.

“Looks easy.” Peter laughed.

“It’s not.” Tony said, dragging himself out from under the bottom bunk.

“Need help?” Peter offered.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him.  The kid’s question had come out like ‘Neeb helb?’

“Are you still sick?” He asked.

“What?” Peter frowned.  “No.  I was never sick in the first place.  I told you it was allergies last weekend.”

“And what?  It’s still allergies?” Tony asked skeptically as he stood and brushed the dust off his clothes.

“Yeah.” Peter answered as if it was obvious.

“How the hell does Spiderman have allergies?”

“No clue.” Peter shrugged.  “I used to have asthma and be deathly allergic to peanuts before the spider bite, but ever since I got my powers, I’ve never needed my inhaler and I eat peanut butter all the time without any problem.  It’s so good!”

“What?” All of this was news to him.

“Yeah.  Didn’t you know that?”

“No!  How would I have known that?”

Peter shrugged.  “I don’t know.  You always say you know everything, so I just assumed.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” Tony complained as he reached out to press a palm against Peter’s forehead, still not believing all this allergy talk.

Peter immediately jerked away.  “I’m not sick!” He insisted, sounding annoyed.  Well, he wasn’t warm at least, so whatever it was, it wasn’t serious enough to give him a fever.

“Hmm.  So if it’s allergies, why haven’t you taken anything for it?”

“I did!  I tried Zyrtec but that was useless with my metabolism and the same thing with Flonase.”

Ah.  True.  Tony hadn’t considered that.

“And you’re sure they’re not working because you’re actually sick?”

Peter rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure dad.” Peter said the last part sarcastically but Tony’s heart still warmed.  Peter only ever called him that in jest or when he was being sarcastic, but Tony appreciated it every time all the same.

“Ok son.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair.  “But if this doesn’t get any better, I’m calling Bruce.”

“God you’re so extra.” Peter complained but Tony could see he was smiling.

Tony smiled.  “Maybe.  Now, do you want to go to the garage and work on those suit upgrades I was talking about?”

“Um duh.  Do you even have to ask?”

Tony shook his head, equally annoyed and amused in the way only Peter could make him, but they headed down to the workshop, and the rest of the weekend Tony didn’t notice any red flags besides the congestion causing Peter’s voice to go all wonky, so he didn’t say anything.

**********

“Hey Toby?” Peter’s voice rang throughout the cabin from downstairs two weeks later.

Tony met Pepper’s eyes across the bedroom and they both raised their eyebrows at each other at the obviously persistent voice issue.

“I’m upstairs!” He called out.

“This has gone on long enough.” Pepper whispered to him, aware of Peter’s super hearing.  “Figure it out.”

“Already on it boss.” He said and walked out of the room, meeting Peter in the hallway at the top of the stairs.

“What’s up kid?” He asked as he studied him for any sign of illness.  Peter’s eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red with a darkened line across the bridge of it, something he’d never seen on him before, but otherwise he looked ok.

“Nothing.” Peter shrugged as if everything was all hunky dory even as he reached up to swipe at his nose.

“Nothing.” Tony repeated skeptically.

“Yeah.  Why?” Peter’s brow furrowed.

“Because you look like an extra for a zombie movie kid!”

“I do?” He sniffled.

“Yep.  I’m calling Bruce.” He said, already pulling out his phone to text his friend.

“No!” Peter protested, snatching the phone out of his hands.

“Hey.” Tony warned.  “Give that back.  You remember our deal?  I told you two weeks ago that if this didn’t get better we were getting Bruce involved.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“Well too bad because this looks like it’s getting worse and you haven’t said a thing about it.”

“Because I’m fine!  It’s just allergies.”

“Give me my phone.” Tony ordered as he held his hand out expectantly.

Peter eyed it for a moment and Tony lifted his eyebrows, daring Peter to test him, before Peter sighed and slapped the phone back in his hand.

“Fine, but if you do call him and make him come all the way up here, you’ll be wasting his time because he’s just going to tell you the exact same thing I’ve been saying.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Tony said doubtfully, already typing out a message to his friend.  Bruce was nothing if not prompt.  He responded less than a minute later.

“He’s on his way over.” Tony held up the phone screen for Peter to see, but his kid just rolled his eyes and pushed past him.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Resting?  That’s a good idea.  You should rest.”

“No.  Doing homework.  Not resting.  Because I’m not sick!  It’s allergies!”

Tony hummed in disbelief but let Peter go, wincing as he slammed his door shut behind him.

Pepper peaked her head out of their bedroom.  “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” He held his hands up innocently.  “Bruce is on his way over.”

Pepper smiled.  “Ah.  Good.”

He nodded.  Now he just had to wait for his friend to tell him he was right, and then they could finally fix his stubborn kid.

**********

He wasn’t right.

“He’s not sick.” Bruce said.

“What?” He asked in shock.

“I told you.” Peter said and way too happy about it.

“Then what is it?” Tony looked down at where his kid sat smugly on the couch.

“It looks like allergies.” Bruce shrugged.

Tony blinked as Peter barked out a laugh.  “Ha!  That’s what I kept saying and he wouldn’t believe me.”

“Didn’t you used to be allergic to everything under the sun?  Before the bite?” Tony asked, none of this making any sense.

“I mean that’s kind of an exaggeration, but yeah, I guess.” Peter shrugged.

Tony shook his head and turned to Bruce.  “So if all his previous allergies went away after the bite, then how on earth did he suddenly develop allergies again?  And to what?  Does this mean his other allergies are back too?  Do I need to hide the peanut butter?”

Peter rolled his eyes.  “I had peanut butter toast for breakfast this morning so I’m pretty sure that’s still safe.”

“It’s probably environmental.” Bruce explained.  “Those allergies are mediated through different pathways.”

“Ok, but that still begs the question, why now?  And besides, it’s the middle of winter, what kind of environmental allergies could he be getting into?”

“You’d be surprised.” Bruce said.  “There’s still dust mites, mold, pet dander—”

“Wait.” Tony held up a finger and then looked down at his kid accusingly.  “Didn’t you say Ned got a new cat a month ago?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s the cat.  It’s got to be.” Tony said, finally happy to have an answer.  That hadn’t been so hard to solve.  Actually it’d been surprisingly easy.  He frowned before asking Peter, “How did you not figure this out?”

“I knew ok!  But what was I supposed to do?  Tell Ned that Fluffy had to go?” Peter threw his hands up in the air.

“Fluffy?” Tony made a face.

“He’s a rescue.  I can’t ask Ned to kick him out when he just found his new home.  How do you think that would make him feel?” Peter said, sounding way too emotionally invested for this to just be about the cat.  “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Tony cleared his throat.  He’d had almost six years with Morgan to get used to showing emotions, and he’d gotten much better, but he still didn’t love doing it in front of an audience.

He knelt down so he was face to face with Peter, clasping his knees.  “I get it kid.  But you’re clearly suffering.  And Fluffy’s a cat, not a human.”

Peter pursed his lips and Tony could tell that his current argument would get him nowhere.

“Ok, how about this, what if we find Fluffy a new home that’s just as nice.  Or better?”

“Um, I might have an idea.” Bruce interrupted and Tony and Peter both turned to look at him.  “I could probably synthesize something that would work.  It just might take a couple days.”

“Ok.” Peter agreed readily.

Tony sighed.  He never liked the idea of pumping new drugs into his kid but he trusted Bruce.  “Fine.  But if it doesn’t work, we’re going to have another discussion.”

“Fine.” Peter said begrudgingly.

Tony stood and clapped Bruce on the back.  “Thanks big green.  You’re a life saver.”

“Don’t thank me yet.  I have to make it first.  And we have to see if it works.” Bruce hedged.

“I’m sure it will.” Tony didn’t have any doubt.  If Bruce thought he could make something that would work, then he’d end up making something that would work.

“Hey uh Dr. Banner, how strong can you make it?”

Bruce’s brow furrowed.  “What do you mean?”

“Like can you make something that will still work even if Fluffy sleeps on my face?”

Bruce and Tony shared a look.  

“He’s your kid.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at him even as he tried not to laugh.

Tony just shook his head and walked away, muttering, “I can’t believe this.”

“What?  Where are you going?  Tony!” Peter called out after him.

“I’m going to go call Thor and see if he can put in a word with the big guys upstairs about getting my kid some common sense.” He said, only half kidding.

“Hey!” Peter protested.

He smirked when he heard Bruce say, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

[docholligay]

Regrets

She’d never regretted listening to her friends about getting a pet, especially a destructive, memory crushing cat, more than that morning. For months she’d put up with random scratches, yowls in the night and bursts of destruction against her leather furniture, but Thistle the tortie finally found the seam that could undo her.

It was really all Emily’s fault. She made hot chocolate, stirring in the butterscotch schnapps and whipped cream, just the way they used to when Autumn’s air got crisp. The drink was always far too sweet, and now the sucking ache in her teeth was laced with foolish sentiment. It was normal, it had only been a year. More than a year since she’d had the drink, Lena’s diet hardly allowed much room for sweets the last few years. She always promised one day they’d toast with it again though.

She always said and did foolish things to lighten the mood.

Like her insistence on buying any and all Overwatch merchandise, especially every Tracer branded item. Emily had to enforce a one-in-one-out rule, and as much as she loved Lena, her sunburst signature orange could only go with so many design choices.

Her absolute favorite item was always the solid orange mug emblazoned with the icon of her goggles and wispy hair. Emily owned several handmade thrown ceramic mugs and her cherished delicate tea set that belonged to her great aunt, but no matter the occasion, Lena always insisted on trotting out that horrible, bright orange mug. Emily would overrule her at times, like when they threw the baby shower for Angela and Fareeha, but there was always the token insistence it was the greatest vessel for a beverage in any flat in any country in the world.

Emily saw them in the shop, especially over the last few months. Was it the phenomenon of when the artist dies, their work goes up in price? Or was it she couldn’t help but long for the merry sing-song voice of her late wife and her hideous cup.

The hideous cup she filled with the foolishly sentimental spiked coco that she left on the counter after she was done, and the horrid three year old cat she adopted two months after she told the doctor’s to take her wife off life support licked at the rim of chocolate on the bottom of the sunburst orange mug and knocked it off the counter to the tiled floor. 

The structure was fine, though she would probably wash it by hand from now on to be safe. Just a chip, stupid and foolish to burst into tears over. They sold them everywhere if she needed a replacement, though five years ago they went with a new manufacturer and the orange was not sunburst, but more of an apricot now. It was the same shape, could go in the dishwasher. It still had those overlarge goggles and wispy hair. 

But those mugs would never have held that aged champagne they put away for their fifth anniversary. That replacement mug would never have seen boring weekend mornings of coffee, eggs and toast, or long nights with soggy tea bags to talk with friends on the other side of the world. They would never have been Lena’s, and she could never buy a replacement to fill with new memories. 

It was just a chip, but it was another piece she could never get back from before.

Thistle the Tortie I SEE YOU ahahha. I love the idea of everything Tracer-branded suddenly being everywhere because cynically, that's so how it would be, isn't it? ANd I love the mug on the whole, the idea of how such a small, objectively stupid thing can cause such a wave of remembrance and grief because that's so how it is, really.

[lolahasmoxie]

Winter Break

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader (TEACHER AU)

Warning: curse words, smut, alcohol/edibles (18+)

Word Count: 2,081

Notes: I envision this as a sequel to “Fall Break” which I wrote a couple of years ago. I see Seb being a high school science teacher, reader as a middle school math teacher. The setting is Brooklyn (Red Hook) and the places I mention are real and ones I love and recommend. 

Also, it’s late and I’m sleepy. Please enjoy whatever this is.

@ 11:15AM - Friday

“YES, WINTER BREAK MOTHERFUCKERS!” 

Her loud voice echoed out of their shared home office, and a moment later she came bounding down the hallway adorned in an ugly sweater, black leggings, and oversized fluffy slippers. Her hands were raised over head in victory, and when she reached the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of Sebastian pouring a cocktail from the shaker into a highball glass.

“Right on time.” He said with a smile. Seb’s school had finished the day before, but he had gotten up early today to surprise her with coffee and bagels from Baked, her favorite coffee shop down the street. She took the offered glass, giving him a wary look. 

“While I am always happy whenever someone hands me alcohol, I would like to note that it is only 11:15am.”

Seb chuckled as he poured the remains of the shaker into his own glass. 

“After this semester, we have both earned this.” She shrugged, and they clinked their glasses before each taking a swig of the drink. She paused, finally realizing that Seb was dressed to go out as she put down her glass.

“Going somewhere?”

“Just downtown; I have to pick up a couple of gifts I couldn’t find online and then I have to go help your brother hook up some electronic stuff. I think I’m going to pick up dinner too.”

“I start winter break and you’re going to leave me here all by myself? That wasn’t part of the plan.” She gave her best pout, and he couldn’t help but smile as he stepped closer and cupped her face. He kissed her softly, pulling away after a moment before he got tempted to drag her into their bedroom.

“If I go now, we’ll have the entire weekend to ourselves. Plus, I know you haven’t finished inputting your data yet, and your A-type personality won’t let you truly relax until you do.”

“You don’t know me!” she responded, and all she got was a raised eyebrow back. They stared at each other until she took another sip from her drink, muttering something under her breath. 

“I shouldn’t be too long, so why don’t you go finish up and tonight I am all yours.” She nodded, and he kissed her again before he gave her a quick goodbye and left their apartment. She stood in the kitchen and sipped her drink, looking down when she felt something rub against her leg. 

“I can skip my work, Daddy doesn’t know me, right Alpine?”. The white cat locked eyes with her before yawning and giving a few chirps in response. “Fuck, he’s right it would literally drive me insane. Let’s go bud.” Alpine followed her into the office, perching on her lap as she sat down. Turning on Spotify, she took one last sip before getting to work.

At 3pm, she finally shut her laptop and stretched her sore muscles. She was officially done with work and checked her phone when it buzzed. Sebastian was going to be home by 5pm and as she wandered into the kitchen, she thought about what she could do to pass 90 minutes. The apartment was pretty spotless thanks to Seb the night before. He was also bringing dinner, so she didn’t have to cook. Suddenly, her mind remembered the jewelry box in the bedroom. 

When she had gone home over the summer to see her family and friends, she had come back with some edibles she had hidden in her carry-on. She liked to use them if her anxiety got really bad, but she and Seb had also enjoyed a couple before school had started. But once September came, they were too tired or busy to enjoy them properly. But now, now they had two glorious weeks with no plans, and she was delighted to find four chocolates staring back at her when she opened her jewelry box. She took one, popped it into her mouth, and decided that now was the time to find some holiday movies on Netflix.

@ 4:48pm – Friday

She was engrossed in The Holiday when she heard the tell-tale jingle of Sebastian’s keys as he entered the foyer of their building. Alpine slowly stretched before casually sashaying over to greet him. She turned her head as he came in the apartment, his hair and the tops of his shoulders kissed with a dusting of fresh snow.

“Hey baby, your brother sends his love.”

“Mmmm, that’s nice.” She said and Sebastian paused placing bags on the island counter taking in her ultra-relaxed voice and posture on their couch. He walked over and leaned over to kiss her, and when he pulled back, he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You are high as fuck right now, aren’t you?”

“Nooooooooooo!” she said as she sat up straighter. She paused for a minute before making eye contact and blinking. “Okay, maybe just a little.” Seb giggled as he went back to pulling cartons out of the two bags, he had brought with him.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that I come bearing food.”

“What did you bring?”

“Something we haven’t had in a while.” She inhaled deeply, the scent of fried dough and meat filling her lungs as she felt her stomach growl.

“Did you really go to East Wind?”

“Yep, I have enough Dim Sum to feed a small army. Now Cheech, do you want one of your ciders or a beer?”

“I’ll take a Cider, please.” Soon Sebastian placed a plate heaping with food in front of her before taking the space next to her on the couch. They ate, making potential plans for the weekend while the movie played in the background. After the sun set, and after Seb had changed into sweats and the dishes had been put in the dishwasher, they were cuddled on the couch under a blanket while watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as the small Christmas tree in the corner and the lights on the window bathed the living room in soft colors. Seb had his arm wrapped around her shoulder, while she was cuddled into his side with her arm around his waist. She usually kept casual physical affection to a minimum, and he loved how the edibles opened up this side of her. He placed a kiss into her hair, causing her to look up.

“This is nice, all cuddled up with two weeks off and no real plans.” She hummed in agreement as she placed her leg over his, her foot rubbing his calf as she nuzzled his chest.

“We could make it even better.” The sultry tone in her voice instantly reminded Seb about another side effect the edibles had on her. Before he could respond she was placing soft kisses under his earlobe as her hand rubbed his cock over his sweatpants. He couldn’t help but whimper as her hand and lips began to set his skin on fire.

“Baby….” The words died on his tongue, coming out as a deep moan when her hand disappeared in his pants and grabbed his now fully hard cock while her teeth grazed his Adam’s apple. It was a race to disrobe after that, clothes landing here and there before she was bare before him, climbing into his lap before leaning down to finally kiss him. He pulled back when she did, watching her as she reached between them to line him up, mesmerized at how the Christmas lights cast red and green against her naked skin, only looking away when he felt her warm wet heat envelop his cock. 

She stilled when he bottomed out, her face buried in his shoulder as his fingers began to trace over her skin as he felt her warm breath against his neck. He waited patiently for her to move, and he smiled to himself when he felt her hips begin to rock. His eyes locked onto her face as she moved, looking to see what she might need. She was never overtly vocal during sex, but the hitches in her breathing were a dead giveaway he knew to look for. His hands found her hips, thrusting up to meet her rhythm. Her eyes were closed, brow furrowed in concentration and he took it as his cue.

She made a noise of confusion when his hands stopped her movement, but when he angled her hips and thrust up, he stole the very breath from her lungs. His second thrust had her against his chest, her fingers digging into his skin as he made her toes curl. His thick cock filled her perfectly, and when he wrapped his arms around her body, she was enveloped by him completely. She managed to rest her forehead against his, the two of them breathing each other in as he expertly hit her g-spot again and again.

“Look at me.” he managed to rasp, and when she hesitated, he responded with a harder thrust. “Please” She did as he asked, and she found two blue eyes looking at her. The way he looked at her during times like this, filled with so much love and adoration, it made her feel like she could burst under the weight of that gaze, but all coherent thought left her when his fingers began to circle her clit. She gave in to the feeling that was spreading through her body as the coil in her belly began to wind tighter and tighter.

Sebastian knew she was close; her breaths were getting shallower and quicker, and he could feel her walls begin to pulse and tighten around his cock. When she came, it was gasp followed by a breathy moan that shook him to his very core. He grit his teeth, his hips not stopping when she collapsed against his chest, her body shaking and trembling in his arms. When he came it was with low growl, his hips still moving at a slow, steady pace as he tried to prolong both of their pleasure. He only stopped when he felt her tap his shoulder three times, her signal that she needed him to stop. 

She could barely make out the television in the background as Sebastian ran a hand up and down her back. She could however make out his low voice heaping praise on her as she came down from her high, telling her how wonderful she was and how good she was to him. After what felt like ages, she managed to lift her head. When she looked up at Sebastian, his gaze was already on her, a stupid dopey grin on his face.

“There’s my sweet girl.” His voice was low and raspy, she could feel the vibrations through his chest as she lay her head back down.

“Well, that was one way to kick off break with a bang.” He chuckled as she ran her fingers over his bicep. They stayed that way in quiet repose, her eyes were starting to close when he tapped her waist to get her attention.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Already?” she asked with a confused sleepy expression which made his heart leap in his chest. He helped her off his lap before he stood up, his hands finding their way to her waist as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t think I’m done yet; in about 15 minutes I will be thoroughly prepared to rock your world again.” He had a cheesy grin on his face as he waggled his eyebrows at her for emphasis, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness. 

“Fine, I’ll be waiting. Why don’t you turn off everything here and, uh…fair warning; if you aren’t in that bed in 15 minutes, I will be starting without you.” She leaned up to place a quick kiss on his lips before she promptly turned and left him stunned. 

He watched her walk away, a lovesick smile a mile wide on his lips as she disappeared into their bedroom. He made quick work to turn off the TV and to unplug all of the lights. He quickly fed Alpine, asking the cat to be a good boy and to let Mommy and Daddy have some quiet time alone. As the furry beast dined happily, he gave one last look around the living room before making his way down the hallway to your bedroom, his heart full and happy.

It was going to be a GREAT Winter Break.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

History comes to life; Ahkmenrah x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well this has been a LOOOOONG time coming in. For years I’ve alwasy wanted to try and write an Ahkmenrah fanfic and thanks to a Wattpad friend of mine, she gave me that chance. So here we are with my first Ahkmenrah fanfic. Now this is only part 1 and I’ll try to have pt.2 up as soon as I can. Hope you all enjoy this fic my lovelies :)

UPDATE: PART 2 IS HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kairosfreddie​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@simonedk​

________________________________________________________

2006. New York City. The Museum of Natural History. My home away from home.  I mean to a college girl going for a master’s degree history that’s a lot, and all at the age of 23.  Yeah whenever it came to school I was always deemed the ‘smart one’ or in some cases the ‘nerd’.  

Was Valedictorian in high school, completed my bachelor’s degree within my first 2 years of college and now I’m completing a 4 year master’s degree.  Not only that but I once did an entire year abroad in Egypt as a part of one of my courses that gave me 3 credits for one of my History courses.

And now here I am completing an internship credit instead of going for a core course credit, here at the Museum of Natural History.  So far into my second week of my three month internship it’s been pretty good.  Since I’m also having to write my dissertation about the ruling of Ahkmenrah, this place has been a great place to think.

Whenever I wasn’t needed by the boss, Dr. McPhee, you would normally find me in the Ancient Egypt hall, sitting in the room of the pharaoh himself writing my paper.  And I know it sounds crazy but sometimes I wish that I could actually have the chance to speak with him, I mean if I’m to complete my dissertation I wish to know things that I didn’t already know (there’s only so much you can find on the Internet).

Little did I know that that day would soon come, and it all started with a blast from the past. 

I was currently walking down the steps after completing my day here at the museum when I saw walking with Cecil, one of the three night guards an old ‘boss’ you could say.

“Well I’ll be damned. Larry Daley.” I greeted as I came up to them.

“Oh hey, hi uhh…..” ahh the same old Larry forgetful Daley.

“(Y/n) (l/n). I used to live down the road from you guys.”

“Oh right sorry! Wow it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah about 3 years since I graduated high school.” I said with a smile.

“So I see you know our new nightguard huh Ms. (l/n)?” asked Cecil.

“Yeah I’ve babysit his son since the day he was born. How is Nicky by the way?”

“Oh he’s you know good. Fine. Loving hockey.”

“Oh that boy and his hockey. I remember he tried to get me to play it in the house and we ended up breaking that lamp.”

“Yeah thanks for reporting that.”

“Even though he tried to convince me not to speak of it.” I giggled. “So Cecil says you’re going to be the new night guard?”

“Yep. Just showing Larry around, giving him a little tour before his shift tomorrow night.” Cecil explained.

“Well, welcome to the team.”

“So do you work here too?”

“Oh no I’m just here for an internship credit but Dr. McPhee has allowed me to do further researching even after my internship’s up.”

“Read her dissertation a couple of days ago, she’s quite the researcher. Any further questions you can always ask her.” Cecil said.

“Oh Cecil you old charmer stop it. Well I better get out of here before traffic gets too crazy. Bye Cecil, Mr. Daley, welcome aboard again and I hope to see you before your shift tomorrow.”

“Yeah of course, see yah then (y/n).” I smiled and gave the gentlemen a nod goodbye before bundling up and walking out into the New York winter air.

I was now at home typing up what I had written down on paper and transferred it to the rest of my dissertation that was on Word.  I heard my door open and in came in my mom and she said.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay mama, just half a minute and I’ll have everything typed up.”

“Sweetie you’ve been working non-stop ever since you got home. You can step aside for ten minutes to eat dinner.” I looked up at her then saved the changes I had and said.

“Fine mama, you win.” She grinned down and said to me.

“I always do. Until you become a mother yourself, you’ll never win.” I scowled up at her before the two of us walked out of my room and headed downstairs to eat.

As we ate our dinner, I told her about my progress and about Mr. Daley now working for the museum as the new nightguard.

“Wow, Larry Daley. Hadn’t heard from him in a while. Not since the official divorce.”

“Wait what?”

“Oh honey I’m sorry to tell you this but Larry and Erica were going through a divorce this past year.”

“Ahh man. How’s Nicky taking it?” I asked.

“Well last time I ever talked to Larry he told me it was a joint custody agreement. Now whether that went through or not I’m not sure.”

“It must’ve, I mean he did say Nicky was still playing hockey so that must mean he gets to have Nicky at least some days of the week, maybe the weekends.”

“Erica was always hard on him. Even when they first got together. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

“I promise mom.”

After dinner, I took the dishes and cleaned them out before placing them in the dishwasher before going back to my paper. Before I even knew it when I finally ran out of ideas and edits, I saw that it was after midnight.  So after saving everything I shut my laptop off and got ready for bed.

The next day it was like any other day.  I went in, did my rounds for Dr. McPhee, organized some files and edited some papers.  Then after my lunch break I had time to do my paper for the final 4 hours of my day today.  Even with the small crowd of people in the Pharaoh’s tomb, I wasn’t really bothered or distracted from doing my dissertation.

In fact I was so invested into it that I almost didn’t hear the voice speak over me.

“Hard worker as ever.” I looked up and smiled at Mr. Daley.

“So, ready for your first night tonight?”

“I don’t think it should be that hard. I mean not really anything happens in a museum at night.”

“Do you got a second? Just wanted to see if you’re interested in a cup of coffee. Colleague to colleague?”

“So not just for the sake of me being your old babysitter? Is that all I am to you now, just a colleague?”

“No. I mean yes. But not in that way I mean I was just…..” I laughed and said.

“I’m just pulling your buttons Mr. Daley. I’d love to get a cup of coffee. Maybe even educate you on what you’ll be guarding.” I packed up my stuff and we both headed out to the coffeeshop just down the block from the museum.

As we walked around Central Park he asked me.

“So that paper you were writing earlier, what’s it on?”

“Oh it’s my dissertation paper for my master’s degree.”

“Masters?! Wait so you already got your bachelor’s?”

“Yeah. I got it just last year. Now for my masters I’m doing the full 4 years so in total I’ll be doing 6 years of college.”

“Wow, sounds exhausting.”

“It can be, but I can’t help it. I’ve got a thirst for knowledge. And as an ancient civilizations concentrator I can’t help but want more.”

“Yep your mom always did call you her little book worm.” I smiled and nodded. “So that paper.”

“Oh yes that. Well I’m doing my dissertation on the ruling of Ahkmenrah and how he was the most justified ruler Ancient Egypt had ever known. Sure there have been good pharaoh’s but I’m setting to prove just how fair and just Ahkmenrah truly was as a ruler. Even with his short time as king.”

“How long did he rule?”

“Well he was given the crown by his father when he was just 16 and ruled for only 4 years before he was murdered by his own brother.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, his brother was extremely jealous of Ahkmenrah. So much so that after murdering his brother, he tried to claim the throne only to throw Egypt into despair in just under a year of his ruling.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Ahkmenrah sought to treat everyone with a kind but firm hand when need be. Did you know that he was the only pharaoh known to be kind to the Hebrew slaves?”

“I did not.”

“Yeah. He even tried to seek out a fair system where they wouldn’t have to work on their sacred holidays. Of course it wasn’t passed yet because well—he died just before he could declare it a law.”

“Wow, things would’ve turned out very differently had that happened.”

“Yeah. Cecil’s also been a good resource too since he was there when he found his tomb when he was just a kid.”

“Cecil found Ahkmenrah’s tomb?”

“Yeah. The three sarcophagus’ of him and his parents.”

“But wait I thought you said he had a brother?”

“He was. His brother wasn’t buried with them. Kahmunrah was condemned to be mummified alive and buried in a tomb far beyond the royal family’s because of what he had done.”

“Wow that’s—horrifying. Don’t they like rip their guts out or something?”

“All their organs were placed into jeweled canopic jars.”

“Wow. I think I lost my appetite to drink this coffee now.”

“Sorry Mr. Daley, I can be a little assertive when describing some of the things the Ancient Egyptians did. But you should’ve seen me when I actually got to set foot in an actual mummification area.”

“So you actually went to Egypt?”

“Yeah last year during my bachelor’s degree last spring. I spent an entire semester down there. Learned a lot, and I can speak a little Arabic. Ancient Egyptian is a little rusty but I know like a word or two.”

“So if you could, could you read what’s written around the tomb of Ahkmenrah?”

“Now you’re really challenging me Mr. Daley.”

“Thought you said you loved a challenge?” I chuckled.

“That I did. But sadly no. Probably a word or two as I said.” I looked down at my watch and said.  “It’s almost sunset, better get back to the museum less you wanna get fired on your first day. I’ll check in on you first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks for the little history lesson on the pharaoh (y/n).”

“Anytime. And here, give me your phone.” He handed it to me and I went through his contacts to see if he still had my number. Turns out he didn’t so I went ahead and gave him my new number since I got a new phone. “Here, any questions or concerns or if you just wanna chat. Give me a call.”

“Thanks (y/n). Anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“Give me a chance to see that knucklehead Nicky again and we’ll call it even.”

“Will do.”

“Well good luck Larry.”

“Thanks.” I waved goodbye and walked back towards the nearest exit and hailed down a taxi and told them my address.

As I lay down in my bed after typing up the next several pages of my paper, I charged up my flip phone since it was almost dead from this week’s use.

“Hope Larry’s liking his new job. I’d give anything to stay the night in that place.” I stretched myself out and cuddled into my bed before falling asleep.

Bright and early the next morning I got around and headed on out of the house.

“Mama I’m heading out!” I cried out.

“Have a good day sweetie, give my love to Larry for me.”

“Will do mama.” I gathered up my stuff and took the bus toward the museum.

Once I got there, I entered inside just to see Mr. Daley walk out.

“So how was the first night?” he looked at me like he had just been through a rumble with Mike Tyson or the Rock as he said.

“Well I—”

“Dad.” A young boy’s voice said.  We both turned to see Nicky walking with another man with short black hair and looked younger than Mr. Daley.

“Hey, hey buddy. What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh Erica had to be in court early today so I’m taking Mr. Big stuff here to school. But he wanted to swing by see your new job.” The man explained with a smile.

“It’s so awesome that you’re working here.” Nicky praised.

“Well your dad gets a praise but I don’t get so much as a hello?” I teased.

“(Y/n)!” he came up and hugged me and I hugged the little monkey back. “Do you work here too?”

“No I’m just here as an intern for a couple of months.”

“So Nicky whose your friend here?” the man asked.

“Right, (y/n) this is Don. Erica’s new uhh…well he’s her new….” Larry tried to explain but Don butted in by saying with a business man snake-like smile.

“I’m her boyfriend. So you’re the famous (y/n) the babysitter I’ve heard about.”

“Yeah. So you’re the new guy huh?” I looked over him once over and all I saw was a monkey in a suit with an earpiece to his ear.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Hey Nicko. Wanna take a lookie-do inside. Maybe your dad or your friend can give you a VIP tour?”

“You know what we’re actually kinda slammed this morning but I promise I’ll show you around soon bud, deal?”

“Deal. Love you dad.”

“Love you too.” Nicky hugged his dad and Mr. Daley gave Nick a kiss on the top of his head before he and Don walked hand in hand across the crosswalk before heading towards his school. “Yeah Erica and I are going through a—”

“I know, mom told me the other night. I’m so sorry. You both seemed really happy together.”

“Yeah well sometimes life happens. I’m just thankful I get Nick on Wednesdays and every other weekend.” He said solemnly as he kept his eyes on Nicky.

“Were you really thinking about quitting?”

“How did you…..”

“I’ve seen that walk so many times with my friends. Hell I’ve even done that walk before once at the Library of Congress. So c’mon Mr. Daley the truth.”

“Last night was……intense I’ll admit. But I really want Nick to be proud of me, and not see me as…..ordinary.”

“As Teddy Roosevelt once said, ‘some men are born great, others have greatness thrust upon them’. Maybe this is your moment. Look I know being the night guard may not be the funniest job ever for you. But don’t do it for yourself, do it for Nicky.” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder.  He looked up at me and said.

“You truly were the best babysitter Nicky ever had. No wonder how he got so wise.”

“History geek, you get great life quotes. Not just from Star Wars or Lord of the Rings.” I then skipped up the steps and walked inside.

“Oi intern!” I sighed heavily.  Even after 2 weeks he never really does call me by my name.

“Yes Dr. McPhee?”

“The Egyptian tour guide called in sick this morning, I want you to take over his shift. You’ve got the better resume to give a tour with your year abroad. So do it.”

“Yes Dr. McPhee.”

“And see to it that the children don’t touch the exhibit. God I hate it when those sticky little monsters think a museum is a-a-a-a-a…..touchy place.” He then turned away mumbling to himself.

“Out of all the bosses I’ve had, he’s by far the goofiest and strictest. But it’s better than organizing files again.” I then went up and Rebecca handed me my Egyptian tour guidance flag and I waited for the first wave of guests which was in fact kids from the middle school I went to years ago.

When the class arrived I greeted them and told them my name and that I would be their tour guide today.  I walked them through the Egyptian wing before finally leading them to the tomb of the Pharaoh.

“Now we are finally arriving into the tomb of the pharaoh himself. King Ahkmenrah was known as one of the youngest pharaohs to rule in the Upper kingdom of Egypt in 232 BC. He was even the first pharaoh to be crowned above his older sibling.” It was then I had a young girl raise her hand. “Yes sweetheart?”

“What are these statues?” she gestured towards the 20ft. jackal guards.

“Ahh those are the Anubis guards. The Egyptian god Anubis, Lord of the dead is said to be the judge of the underworld. He would deem by balancing your soul on a scale with sand and if your soul weighed heavier than the sand, you would be damned in the underworld. But if your soul was lighter, you’d be granted peace in the afterlife. His guards which you see up there are the protectors of bodies, especially over the royal families tombs.” I got another hand raise this time from a black child.

“Do the mummy’s really get wrapped up in toilet paper?” at that the kids all laughed, to which I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No. No it’s not toilet paper. They get wrapped in special linen which is sorta like a gauze wrap. How many of you had an injury and your parents would wrap your injury with a sorta white bandage?” I got a few hands raised. “It’s basically that. But before they wrap up the bodies, they expose the body to a type of oil and salt to de-moisturize the body so that it could be preserved from the elements.” Another boy asked.

“What exactly is that gold thing up there?” I looked up and I said.

“Ahh that my dear boy is the tablet of Ahkmenrah himself. It arrived here at this museum in 1952 from the Nile expedition. It is said to bring the dead back to life.”

“Yeah right.” The boy sassed back.  Kids today, so desensitized by movies and television.

“It’s a legend but never mock the powers of Egyptian magic. Okay kids, why don’t you have a look around and check him out. But please don’t touch the stone slab.” I then walked aside and the kids all gathered around Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus. “If only it were real.” I muttered as I sat down and rested my feet.

The day dragged on until finally I was clear to go home.  I decided that for tonight, I would leave my dissertation for next time and just immediately go to bed.  I covered myself up with my thick warm blanket and was out like a light.

The next day it was just about closing time and once again I was in the tomb of Ahkmenrah.  I stared down at his sarcophagus sighing softly.

“Excuse me miss, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to vacate the premises.” I jolted slightly but when I turned around I saw that it was only Mr. Daley.

“Oh sorry, just—kinda got caught up in my thoughts is all.” He switched his flashlight off and walked up to me.

“So this whole Egyptian stuff really—gets to you doesn’t it?”

“Ancient Egypt has probably been one of my most favorite ancient civilization. It’s just fascinating of how the Egyptians were able to build things like the pyramids, the sphinx, and intricate tombs that have endless passages in order to trap graverobbers when they didn’t have the technology we have today. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, guess that is kinda cool.” We stood there side by side in brief silence before he said, “Hey (y/n), do you really believe History comes to life?”

“I mean yes. In a way all around us we are always being given knowledge of every historical moment. And this museum helps us to actually in a way live through it.”

“I mean do you truly believe that history can come to life?”

“I—don’t get what you’re saying Larry.”

“I mean that…..I tried to tell Rebecca this earlier but she ran off on me. She thought I was making fun of her but I really wasn’t I’m telling the truth, I told her the truth.”

“What truth?” he looked around before he leaned close to me and whispered.

“Everything in this museum comes to life. At night. All because of that tablet. Ever since they brought it here back in 1952, everything in this museum came to life.” I looked at him before saying.

“Uhh—have you been overworking yourself again?”

“No, no I swear to you (y/n) I’m not lying.”

“Look, your shift’s about to start and I should really get going. We’ll—talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight Mr. Daley.” I quickly walked around him but I could hear him trying to call out to me.

As I exited the museum I began thinking back to what he was saying.  I mean I know I said that there could be a slight chance that the tablet of Ahkmenrah could hold some magic but this—this is something else.  I hailed a cab and asked him to drive me back to my place and in just 10 minutes I arrived back home.

As it got darker and snow began to fall from the sky, what Larry had told me earlier this evening was still spinning in my head.  I mean what he said was absolutely crazy, if he was implying that the figurines, statues, and the actual pharaoh himself can come to life at night—he was even crazier than when I first met him.

Suddenly something was thrown at my window.  I gasped and turned on my lamp to see the leftover remains of a snowball.  I got up from my bed and looked out the window to see some figures standing down along the sidewalk.

From the streetlights I could see that it was Larry and Nicky but along with them were two others.  One was dressed up as an Egyptian pharaoh and the other was dressed like Attila the Hun.  I put on my coat and boots and quietly walked down the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Nicky? Mr. Daley? What are you guys doing here?”

“Hey (y/n) look I know this is a lot to take in right now and I don’t have a lot of time to explain so I’m gonna cut right to the point. Cecil stole the tablet of Ahkmenrah, along with Gus and Reginald. We have the other two back at the museum but we need your help in getting Cecil.”

“Whoa wait what? Mr. Daley you mean to tell me that the former head of security, someone I’ve looked up to for years has stolen the tablet of Ahkmenrah? Why would he want to steal it?”

“He said he and the other two guards were gonna sell it so that they could get a wealthy long retirement.” Nicky spoke up. I then turned to the two costumed gentlemen and I said.

“Am I missing the historical convention or something?”

“No, no, no. You know how I told you the tablet makes things in the museum come to life? I’d like you to meet Attila the Hun and the pharaoh himself Ahkmenrah.” I turned towards them and almost couldn’t believe it, especially with ‘Ahkmenrah’.

I mean there’s never been a real documented picture of him due to his short reign but—he was kinda cute. Wait what am I saying? This could all be a trick.

It was then Attila said something in Mandarin as he nodded to me.  I looked at him confused, that’s when Ahkmenrah said.

“He says he’s honored to meet someone who knows his true history and not the fables that surrounded him.” I walked up to Ahkmenrah and I looked him over.  His light blue eyes and sun kissed skin.

“How do I know you’re not just some method actor?”

“I assure you my lady I am no actor. But if you want to test me since you know so much about my history especially, ask me something only I would know.” I crossed my arms at his challenge.

“Okay.” I thought long and hard about a question that only either I or the ‘pharaoh’ himself would know.  “How exactly did your brother kill you?” yeah I know it was a dark question but it was all I could think of that was a difficult question.  Some scholars have even debated on Ahkmenrah’s death but I alone knew the truth after getting some good research done.

“It was sunset. I had just gotten through with wanting the Jews of Egypt to have free will among my kingdom when my brother called me into the studies to speak about the new law. At first I thought we’d go into another argument about it, but he wanted to drink a celebratory toast in light of the new law. I thought nothing of it so my brother and I drank the wine he had prepared. After the toast, I felt this pain in my stomach and—my brother standing over me with nothing but a cruel smile on his face.”

Oh…….my…..god.  It—this was……Ahkmen—he…..Ohhhhhh shit!

“My pharaoh I—” I proceeded to bow before him but he stopped me and he said.

“Please no. There is no need for that.” Oh my god his hands were so warm on my cold ones.

“I—I can’t….I just can’t believe. Oh my god I’ve really fallen off the deep end haven’t I?”

“Told you I wasn’t crazy.” Mr. Daley spoke up.

“Okay, okay I believe you. So where is Cecil at right now?”

“Last we saw him he was heading for Central Park.”

“Then why the hell did you come here for!? Central Park from here is halfway across town compared to the museum! We’ll never catch him on foot.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He then whistled and soon a horse came charging in and stopped right in front of us.

“Uhh Larry I hate to break it to you but we all can’t fit on one horse.”

“Oh I know this is my ride, your ride is Rexy.” I soon heard the thundering footsteps and soon following behind a toy truck was the giant T-Rex that you first see when you walk into the museum. It let out a roar and my mouth just dropped.

“You finally get your Jurassic Park wish huh (y/n)?” Nicky said to me with a wide smile.

“I—I suppose so.” The truck stopped right by us and I took notice of the two small miniatures inside that were inside.  The Roman General Octavius and the cowboy Jedidiah.

“We ready to get this rodeo on the show now gigantor?” said Jedidiah.

“Yeah guys. So you remember the plan right? You all round Cecil off and I’ll follow behind him.”

“We’re on it my liege. Everyone hop on. The enemy must not escape our sights!” Octavius proclaimed.  Larry and Attila got on top of the horse and the two of them rode off while Nicky, Ahkmenrah and I got on top of Rexy.  Ahkmenrah got on first and he held his hand out to me.

I took it and he helped me mount onto the T-Rex. My back was pressed up against his chest and our noses almost touching each other’s.

“Thank you.” I softly whispered in awe.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. It’s—very different from mounting a horse.” I nodded as I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

“Shall I leave you two alone to get a room?” Nicky sassed out.

“Oh you little twerp just get on.” He grinned smugly as he came up and I told him to be careful as he came and sat in front of me. “K guys we’re ready!” Nicky told the two miniatures suddenly Rexy lunged forward and soon we were running full speed towards Central Park.

Within 10-20 minutes we arrived at Central Park and on the other side through the trees I saw Cecil riding on top of the money carrier horse and coach.

Rexy soon began to run faster which forced me to lean further up against Ahkmenrah.  We looked at each other and smiled at each other as I felt him hold onto my waist tighter so that we wouldn’t fall off.  Rexy then suddenly took a sharp left and we were now right in front of Cecil’s path.

But then Cecil took a sharp turn right past us just barely missing Rexy’s leg by a few inches.  It was then I saw the horrifying sight of the truck that Jedidiah and Octavius were riding in spin out of control until it flipped over a small foot of snow before exploding.

With no bone to follow, Rexy soon stopped and whined and we all looked in the direction where the two miniatures had disappeared to.  I saw that Larry had stopped just ahead of us and he was looking right where Jed and Octavius had fallen.

“Rexy let me down boy.” He lowered himself down so that I could get off of him.

“Where are you going?” asked Nicky.

“I’m gonna help your dad end this. Ahkmenrah, can you keep an eye on Nicky?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nicky, stay with him alright?” I told him in my sitter voice and he knew to never go up against me when I used that voice.  I hopped off and raced towards Mr. Daley. “Larry!” he turned to me and I said. “I’ve got a plan, but I need you to do exactly what I tell you.” he nodded.

“Hop on.” I got on the back of the horse as Larry said, “C’mon Tex let’s finish this. HIYAH!” soon we took off racing after Cecil.

“Stay close to the back of the coach, I’m gonna try to hop on it and grab the tablet.”

“Are you crazy!?”

“Yeah well it’s been a crazy night. So just do it!” he urged Tex on and soon we were right up on the stagecoach.  I reached out as far as I could and missed it a few times before finally getting a grip onto it.  Once I pulled myself up, I nodded to him telling him to get Cecil’s attention while I went for the tablet.

“Give me the tablet Cecil!” Larry cried out.

“Can’t do it, son!” the horses whinnied as they ran faster and I slowly crawled up towards Cecil’s back where I could see the glimmer’s of the golden Egyptian tablet.

“Pull over!”

“It ain’t gonna happen. Moving on!”

“Last chance Cecil! Stop the horses or I will!”

“They can’t be stopped, Larry. Don’t you know your history? These are money carriers. They were trained not to stop for anything but a secret word.” I finally grabbed the tablet and pulled it out of the bag as I said.

“You don’t say?” It was then Cecil turned and saw me with the table. “You mean a word like—”

“DAKOTA!” Larry cried out.  I then held onto the roof railings of the stage coach as the horses suddenly stopped and Cecil went flying forwards into the snow.  As Larry rode up towards Cecil, I got off the stage coach and followed right behind Larry.  “Read up on my history, along with a little help from a friend.” Larry said as he turned towards me.

“And by the way. Consider yourself out of my dissertation paper.” I told Cecil.

“And also, never talk to me like that in front of my son.” He then grabbed Cecil and threw his famed words back at him, “Moving on.”

We soon met up back at the stagecoach where Ahkmenrah, Nicky, and Atilla and his Huns came in.

“Oh hey, Huns.” Cecil said nervously as Larry transferred him over to them.

“Tell Atilla to have his boys take him back to the museum, put him back with the rest of the guards.” Larry told Ahkmenrah who then translated it to Attila in his tone. “Oh and uhh no limb ripping, okay?” Larry told Attila.

Attila tried to reason with Larry but he shook his head saying no.  That’s when Attila pinched his fingers with a little bit of space between them as he asked Larry.

“Mikaka?” Larry turned to Cecil for a moment before turning back to Attila doing the same thing as he responded.

“Makeekaka.” Hearing that made Attila and his friends very happy as Attila then proclaimed out to his Huns.

“Hey, w-wait. Hold the phone. What’s Makeekaka mean? Wait, translation please?” he asked Ahkmenrah as the Huns picked him up and carried him back to the museum.

“That’ll teach him to steal from the museum.” I bragged. “Not bad Mr. Daley. That was impressive.”

“Hey, couldn’t have done it without those websites you sent me to help me out with the research. You’re the real hero here tonight (y/n).”

“Yeah, and that was so awesome of how you got onto that stagecoach. You were like a superhero back there.” I blushed at Nicky’s praising.

“They are right (y/n).” Ahkmenrah said.  “We owe this night to you, thanks to you I once again have my tablet.” I smiled and said.

“It took all of us. Teamwork is what got this back.” I said as I held up the tablet.

“Oh boy.” I heard Larry say grimly.

“What is it?” asked Ahkmenrah.

“I gotta get you guys back to the museum.” He said urgently.

“Why? What happens if they’re not back at the museum? Well besides it being empty.”

“If the exhibits are outside of the museum when the sun comes up, they turn to dust.” He told me.  My eyes widened in fear as I turned to Ahkmenrah and he looked at me with a grim expression that expressed the truth.

“How?” asked Nicky as I turned to see half of the museum already here in Central Park.

“It’s gonna take us hours just to wrangle everyone up. And this isn’t even half of the exhibits we need.”

“Ahkmenrah. We’re gonna need your help.” Larry guided me over to the young pharaoh as he continued, “This is your tablet, you know the instructions. We need you to get everyone back.” I handed him his tablet and he took it from my hands.

As we did the transfer, our fingers briefly touched one another’s and I swear to god I thought I felt a spark.   I swallowed my little crush (was it a crush? I don’t know) and nodded to him and that’s when Ahkmenrah began to speak in ancient Egyptian as he looked down at the tablet.

As soon as I heard him say his name, the tablet glowed which reflected his face majestically, but that’s when I heard Rexy softly growl as he then began walking back towards the museum.  Not only was he walking onward but all the exhibits, it seemed they were all in a trance as they walked on.

With that the four of us left alongside the exhibits and we went to make sure that everyone got back there and to their designated wings safe and sound.

Once everyone was inside, present and accounted for; I walked with Ahkmenrah back to his tomb and he said to me.

“Thank you, for helping me retrieve my tablet (y/n).”

“It was no problem. Really. I’d do it all over again a thousand times if it meant you and the others could live to see another night.” He smiled and as he placed it back to its proper place he asked me.

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Oh I don’t know.” I sighed heavily.  “I can’t let Larry just get the boot for this, at least not if I can help it.”

“You have a kind heart (y/n). In another life you would’ve made the perfect Egyptian Queen.”  I blushed and laughed shyly. “If that is the case, then it was an honor to finally meet you (y/n).”

“Believe me it was an honor meeting you. I just…wish we had more time. I have so many questions for you.” He smiled and said.

“If the Gods make it to be, perhaps one day we shall cross paths again.” I nodded as I extended my hand out for a handshake. He took it and instead of a handshake, he turned my hand over and kissed the back of it.

I felt my face heat up and butterflies fluttered around my stomach as I nervously smiled.

“Yeah, you too Ahkmenrah.” I then helped him back into his sarcophagus and once I closed it up, I heard nothing but silence.  I turned to the Anubis guards who now stood very still and figured that it must be sunrise about now.  “Wadaeaan ya fireawn. Num jayidaan.” I whispered as I gently touched Akhmen’s sarcophagus.

I left the Egyptian wing and saw that all the exhibits were now once again either statues once more or had phased back into their wax figurines.  I walked down the steps to see the large mess once again.

“You got him back to his wing safely?” asked Larry.

“Yep. Safe and snug in his sarcophagus. C’mon. Let’s clean up whatever we can before McFreak comes in and flips out.”

“(Y/n).” Rebecca scolded me.  I shrugged at her as I picked up a broom from the supply closet nearby and handed one to Nicky and the two of us began to collect all the toilet paper that had been tossed around.

When Dr. McPhee did come in, he was definitely not happy.  After having Larry and I sit through the news that was talking about all the sightings that had happened last night from Rexy’s footprints in the snow, caveman drawings in the subway and even the Neanderthals up on top of the museum building waving torches in the air.

“Any explanation at all?” he asked the two of us. Larry thought about it before he came to a fake conclusion.

“No. Got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” I answered.

“Right. I’ll take your keys and your flashlight then.” He said as he walked up to Larry before turning towards me and continuing, “And you. Can turn in your membership and research card. You’ll be banned from the museum until further notice.” Larry and I looked at each other before Larry turned in his stuff and I turned in my access card.

He guided us out of his office to let us out of the museum but what we saw was something I had not seen since I was probably a little girl.  

The museum was packed! There were probably hundreds maybe even thousands of people walking about, getting tours, checking in, and asking for information about certain figurines or exhibits.

A wide smile spread across my face as I placed my hands over my mouth trying to contain my excitement.  But what really got me excited was when Dr. McPhee gave Larry and I back our stuff and gave us a small smile before walking away.

“Oh my god.” I said in awe.

“Seems the news really brought this place back on the map.” Larry said.  I then hugged Larry as tight as I could and he hugged me back. “What’s that for?”

“I have no idea. Just—thank you for probably the greatest moment of my life.”

“You sure it don’t have anything to do with the pharaoh just one floor up?” he teased.  I playfully punched him as hard as I could in the shoulder.

“I’ll see you tonight Mr. Daley. I’ll even pick up Nicky and bring him here.” I headed off to start my shift since I knew the tour guides needed more help so I decided to lend a hand and help out.

Of course that was fun and all, but the real fun began when the sun went down.  With my I-pod hooked up to the stereo on my “Happy feet playlist”, I had my #1 song ‘September’ by Earth, wind and fire playing while all the exhibits were gathered around the main lobby in celebration.

Everyone was either dancing or playing soccer and I couldn’t help but smile at seeing a once ancient pharaoh dance so badly that it was almost embarrassing.  Our eyes soon locked with each other and he came over to me and said.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no I don’t dance Ahkmenrah.”

“This is our party and I demand you dance. By royal decree.” He teased at the end with a wink down at me.  Well—who was I to deny a royal pharaoh’s decree?

“Just a little warning for you, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I.”

“So you’re not at all embarrassed?”

“Not really. We’re amongst friends. And true friends don’t laugh at one another, even in their silly moments. Now come (y/n).” he took my hands and pulled me onto the dance floor and the two of us danced to the beat as silly as we possibly could.

[snarkythewoecrow]

Silver and Gold

Part 15 of the Broken Wings series

By: snarkymuch

*You can probably read this as a standalone. Probably. Pretty sure.*

Summary: Tony loses something important to him, and Peter helps him find it. Tony shares a little about Yinsen and emotions are shared.

Thanks to @red-leafy for reading it over first and catching my typos.

Read on AO3

-

A few times over the years, Peter had seen it hanging around Tony’s neck, the gold ring suspended from a silver chain. Sometimes when Tony was thinking through a difficult problem or even watching TV, he’d toy with the ring, passing it between his fingers before tucking it back in his shirt. Peter wondered who it once belonged to, but he knew not to ask. It didn’t seem like a topic he should bring up.

It was something that Peter thought would remain a secret until the day he walked into the kitchen at the lake house to find Tony crawling around the tile floor with a flashlight, searching beneath the fridge.

He was there for a long weekend, having driven up from college. Visiting Tony, Morgan, and Pepper was something he liked to do. It gave him a chance to spend time with Morgan and make sure she knew it was okay to be a raven. Peter had come a long way over the years in regards to that. He didn’t hide his wings, not like before. People around campus knew he was a raven, which didn’t bother Peter as much as he once thought it would. He learned to ignore the looks of contempt. He needed not to hide. He needed to do better, be better, for Morgan and all the other ravens out there. 

Tony didn’t look up when Peter entered, instead, focusing on the dust bunnies under the large appliance.

Without interrupting him, Peter’s crouched down, bending his neck to look at whatever had Tony’s eye. After a minute, he cleared his throat and said, “Um, do you need a hand?”

Peter’s voice made Tony jump, and he nearly dropped the flashlight as he pushed himself up. Sitting back against the center island, he flipped off the flashlight and looked at Peter. “Hey, Pete. When did you get here?”

Peter’s knees were starting to protest, so he shifted his weight and dropped to sit on the cold tile near Tony. His gaze drifted to the fridge again, wondering what Tony had been looking for underneath. Looking back at Tony, he shrugged. “Just a little bit ago. I stopped to visit Mo out front. She’s playing in her tent.”

Tony reached up to touch something near his neck but aborted the motion partway through. He dropped his hand back to his leg. “It's good you’re here. I, uh, lost something important, a ring. I had it on a chain around my neck. You’ve probably seen it. I, um, never take it off.”

Peter frowned. “What happened to it?”

Tony sighed, shaking his head. He tossed up a hand. “I don’t know. I think the chain broke. The last time I remember touching it was when I was cutting up apple slices for Morgan a few hours ago.”

Peter still didn’t know the significance of the ring, but he knew it meant something to Tony, so he would help him find it.

“I’ll help you look. It can’t be far.”

Four hours and a disaster area later, they had searched the house from top to bottom, but no ring to be found. The longer they searched, the more agitated Tony seemed to get.

Pepper came home near dinner, bringing bags of take out—her soft blue wings on her back. Morgan ran up to her, clinging to her legs, her own little wings arching up in excitement.

They all ate, but Peter could tell that Tony was distracted, and as soon as dinner was over, he excused himself to the garage. Peter watched him walk out the back door with concern. Pepper noticed his worry and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Is he gonna be all right?” Peter asked, turning back to the mess on the table and helping Pepper clean up.

Pepper sighed. “It’s not my story to tell, but that ring—that ring means a lot to him. It belonged to someone very special.”

Peter finished cleaning up the table, loaded the dishwasher, and then decided to look around the house one more time. Pepper went to wrangle Morgan into a bath, and Peter eyed the refrigerator.

“It seems we’re gonna do this the hard way.” He sighed, then walked over to the fridge. Gripping it the best he could, he used his strength to drag the appliance from its spot. Once it was moved, he dusted off his hands and stepped around it, searching the spot for any sign of Tony’s ring. Unfortunately, the only things under it were a few crayons and lego.

Disappointed, he slid the fridge back into place.

He turned and leaned against it, his shoulders slumping, but then his eye caught a glint of silver between the pieces of fruit in the bowl on the counter. He kicked off the fridge and grabbed the fruit bowl, dragging it over to him.

His eyes went wide when he saw a silver chain lying over a banana. One by one, he took the fruit from the bowl and set it on the counter until all that was left was a single gold ring and silver chain lying in the bottom.

Smiling, he scooped it from the bowl and clutched it in his hand. He did a goofy little dance to celebrate, then nearly tripped over his feet as he all but ran to the back door.

He had to find Tony.

When he got out to the garage, he didn’t bother knocking on the old wooden door. Instead, he let himself in, ring clutched in his hand, and searched for Tony. He found him sitting slumped on a stool by his workbench, his mangled wings on display. The sight made Peter pause.

Tony glanced up at him, giving him a weak smile. “Hey, Pete.”

Peter licked his lips, looking down at this hand that held the ring. “I found it. I mean your ring. I found your ring.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and then he stood so quickly that the stool almost toppled over. He steadied it with a hand, then crossed the room to Peter.

Peter held it out to him, his palm up. “It was in the fruit bowl.”

Tony plucked it from Peter’s hand and then squeezed it tight. That’s when Peter noticed how shaken Tony looked. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his hair was more disheveled than usual like he’d been tugging on it.

“Thank you,” Tony breathed. “Thank you, Peter. This is—this means so much to me. I didn’t think I’d see it again.”

Peter smiled, shrugging a little. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I could help.”

Tony held the ring in his fist and smiled. “I really mean it. Thank you. I haven’t taken it off in years, not since Afghanistan.”

Peter bit his lip, chewing it lightly. He wanted to know more, but he was afraid to ask. He didn’t want to pry. “It must be really special to you. I lost Ben’s cross once, the one he used to wear, and I thought I would die, so yeah, I know what it’s like.”

Tony turned, giving Peter a good view of the remnants of his wings, as he walked toward the workbench, opening up the small safe on the counter and putting the ring inside. “Just until I can get a new chain,” he said to it as he locked the safe.

He turned and leaned his hip against the bench. Sighing, he dragged a hand over his mouth and looked off at a spot behind Peter. “His name was Yinsen, the man who saved me.” He met Peter’s eye. “It was his wedding ring. He, uh, he died saving me, making sure I could escape. I don’t think he ever planned to leave there alive.”

“I’m sorry. That’s awful.” Peter’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “It’s hard losing people.”

Tony nodded, looking down at the floor. “He was a doctor, had these beautiful sparrow wings. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have survived. He helped make me Iron Man. And, um, when they tortured me, cut my wings, he did everything he could to ease the pain. He was a good man. I’ve lived by his dying words.”

Peter bit at the dry skin on his lip, unsure if he should ask. He could tell this was painful for Tony, and he didn’t want to make it worse. Finally, Peter cleared his throat and said, ”What did he say?”

Tony looked off at the wall again, taking a breath before meeting Peter’s eye. “Not to waste it, not to waste my life, and I’ve tried really hard not to let him down. I hope wherever he is, he knows I’ve never forgotten. It’s why his ring means so much to me. Family meant everything to Yinsen. He died to be with his wife and kids again. I won’t waste my chance with mine—with you and Pepper and Mo.”

Peter felt himself growing emotional, his throat ached, and his eyes grew damp with tears. He hesitated for a moment, but then he knew what he needed to do. Crossing the room, he yanked Tony into a hug, pulling himself tight to Tony’s chest.

Tony stood stiffly for a moment, but then softened, relaxing into it. He pressed a kiss to Peter’s hair. “You all right, kid?”

Peter sniffled, talking into Tony’s shirt. “You’re the one who needed a hug. I think you’re family, too, Tony. Just so you know, I stopped thinking of you like a mentor a long time ago. I guess I started thinking of you like a dad somewhere along the way.”

Tony tightened his arms around Peter, and he felt Tony draw a stuttered breath, exhaling it against his hair. “Yeah, you’ve been my son for a while now, too.”

Peter could hear the steady beat of Tony’s heart, and he let the sound soothe him. After a minute, he quietly spoke. “I’m really sorry you had to go through that.”

“I know, Pete, but you know what? If it hadn’t, I might not have you, and that—that’s an okay trade-off for me. I’d do it all over just to have you as a son.”

That made Peter cry, and he hugged Tony tighter. Tony rocked him gently, humming softly as he did.

“Love you,” Peter murmured against Tony’s chest.

Tony pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, too, kiddo. Love you, too.”

[purplesurveys]

1273

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for?  Maybe for half an hour? Mine are never that bad.

What type of TV shows are your favourite?  Not a big TV show type of person to begin with since it seems as if my attention span wasn’t built for once-a-week, season-breaks kind of content haha. I do like sitcoms, I guess...bite-sized ones like Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Big Bang Theory, etc. Drama shows I’d bite into if the plot is extremely intriguing to me or relevant to my interests, like The Crown or Breaking Bad.

Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything?  I was before then I wasn’t for a very long time, then I came back just recently with this BTS shit I got myself into.

Do you know anyone who has died in battle?  Hmm. I don’t think so. My great-grandpa lived a few more decades after the war.

When was the last time you went on an adventure?  July. My friends and I spent the whole day driving around and stopping by sooo many spots around the metro. It was a lot of fun and we were fucking b e a t after.

What brand is your vacuum cleaner?  I dunno. My mom mainly uses ours.

Are you good at rapping?  I have a number of songs and verses memorized that I can recite quite okay, but I can’t write any of my own.

Name one world issue that upsets you.  Racism.

How do you feel about tanning?  I never saw the the big deal. I will say tanning beds and salons are such a culture shock to me, though. Are some people really that obsessed with modifying their skin tone?

Have you ever given a public speech? Hmm, just the one time I was entered into a public speaking competition and was given a topic to talk about on the spot. That was honestly a lot of fun and I wish there were more opportunities to do that exact same thing.

Do you read comic books?  No. I tried getting into that whole thing, but didn’t see the appeal.

Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved?  Not always but if I’m starting to feel left out or awkward, I will start to ask a question here and there to ease my way into the conversation. But if the topic is clearly none of my business then I do stay out of the way.

Kiss with your eyes open or closed?  Closed.

Do you believe you can change someone?  This isn’t a black and white matter, I think. The idea of changing a person can have a lot of layers; in my org, for instance, I got to pick up a few quirks and behaviors from my friends just by being around them for a long time – in that sense, I changed. But you can also strive to change someone who’s struggling and try to make them become happy, which I tried to do with my ex – which of course I learned the hard way that you can’t change someone if in that context.

How did you react when your first pet died?  I was bummed out but didn’t throw a fit.

Have you ever drawn anime?  No.

Can you use a pogo stick?  I’ve never even seen one in real life. I’m dying to try it out just once.

When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like?  I don’t like anybodyyy.

Do you like bathing/showering?  I mean...yes? Like I’m not obsessed with showering, but it’s a necessity that I have to regularly do anyway lmao.

Have you ever considered entering a race?  Sure! Just give me a couple of weeks to practice because my endurance and stamina are embarrassing.

Rihanna or Lady Gaga?  Rihanna.

Who was your first good kiss with?  My ex.

What accessory do you want in your bedroom?  SHELVES

What do you take the most pictures of?  My experiences.

What are you always in the mood for?  Starbuuuuuuckssssssss.

What is something that you never turn down?  A day out with friends. I’ll always make time. What is something that you always turn down when offered?  Food, if I’m a guest at someone else’s place.

Name something sexy about your significant other.  I don’t have any.

What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up?  Surveys, I guess. I enjoy them too much and have been doing them for nearly a decade.

If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be?  Tennis.

If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be?  PIANO.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon. I would be too terrified seeing dead people, anyway.

Have you ever been on a subway? Nope.

Are you in love?  No.

Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing?  Sure. Softly, roughly...both are fine hahaha.

Do you want to get married when you’re older?  I hope so. I want my turn, too.

What was the last band shirt you wore?  Eh, I don’t own any. I wore a fanmade V-themed shirt yesterday, if that counts.

You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose?  OMGGGG that sounds so fucking good rn. Chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever given someone flowers?  Mhm, I used to give my ex bouquets whenever it was our anniversary.

What day of the week is usually your busiest day?  Monday like 98% of the time, so I hate them. It ultimately varies, though. Sometimes some days are a hell of a lot more hectic than others.

Do you have any concerts coming up? I mean...obviously not.

Do you like or hate the smell of fish?  Oh yessssssss. The smell of seafood/ocean always makes me fucking drool.

What’s your favorite brand of chips?  Pringles, or this local brand of salted egg chips that I love to get.

Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud?  Yeah, once. We had to write a poem as our homework and my teacher picked out a couple that he thought were the best-written, and one of them was mine even though I still firmly believe I did a shit job.

Do you like pineapple?  Oh god no. One of the worse fruits I’ve had.

Does your house have a dishwasher?  No. It seems to be just a Western thing.

Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo?  I probably do, but I just can’t give you a lineup of names. Flower tattoos seem to be trendy these days, especially in the line style.

How many different languages can you say goodbye in?  So I have goodbye, paalam, 안녕히 가세요, adios, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, au revoir...so that’s 7.

Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies.  Ummmm definitely childish and I can feel that the humor tries so hard sometimes but I do enjoy some of his movies, like 50 First Dates. 

Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for?  Yeah, I mentioned this on a previous survey.

Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail?  No, I’ve never dated anyone who’s been imprisoned.

If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it?  I ‘babysat,’ but technically all eldest Asian daughters are expected to look out for their younger siblings and cousins anyway. I didn’t actively enjoy it, but sure, it was fun playing with them and it’s always nice to be viewed as responsible.

What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds?  I don’t eat sunflower seeds. I don’t dislike them, I just really never seek them out.

Do you get cold easily?  Yes.

Do you get a lot of spiders in your house?  Hmm no. If we do get visited they are almost always too small to be seen.

Do you admire nature?  Yeah, I try to be around it as often as I can.

Name one naughty thing you’ve done.  Had sex while a few people were in the same room. I pay for it now hahaha; those friends who had the misfortune to be in that situation have never let me live it down and it’s one of their go-to stories when I’m being introduced to new friends.

Name two of your favorite things as a child.  I loved everything Bratz. I also liked Play-Doh.

Do you own a Pillow Pet?  No, I’ve never even heard of that.

Do you tend to solve problems with violence?  Never.

Have either of your parents gone to jail?  Nope.

Do you know a hoarder?  I heard my grandma had been one, but I didn’t see traces of it when I used to visit her. I guess she had been when she was younger and stronger. I show traces of hoarding too, but I don’t think it’s at a concerning level; I literally just threw out a bunch of shit in my room I’ve hoarded over the last five or so years.

Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows?  I don’t touch them; I’m never all that worried about my appearance. On very rare instances, I will shave some of the excess hair off. Do you have any interesting scar stories?  None of them are interesting tbh, just results of my own stupidity.

Do you hate the texture of meatballs?  I don’t hate their texture but I also just don’t enjoy meatballs in general. I find them boring, which has always led me to think if they’re really supposed to be just boring clumps of meat or if I’ve just always been served average meatballs.

Do you get migraines? Yes, I usually get one after work. They’ve decreased in frequency now but one will drop by every now and then to give me a shit time.

Do you like guns?  No.

Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') < Yes! Except cockroaches.

How much time do you spend taking surveys?  I dedicate an hour or so every weekend. I often wish I can allot more time, but I also have other hobbies and interests I would usually want to catch up on during the weekends. 48 hours is just too short :(

Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even need to think about it.

Would you like to work at a candy shop?  Uh no. If I had to, it would be on the back-end, maybe in the corporate side of things lol.

Do you have feelings for someone?  Nope.

Which one of your guy friends is the best looking?  JM.

Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf?  No.

Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player?  I don’t use music players anymore but my Spotify always reminds me of how much I listen to BTS whenever they do one of their quirky listening habit reports lol.

Which song describes your mood at the moment?  I want to go with RM’s Bicycle just because I’m feeling quite content and relaxed at the moment.

Which movie(s) do you quote the most?  Eh, I’m not a big movie quoter.

Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date?  I honestly don’t see any of them as date-able.

Would you ever let anybody else drive your car?  Sure. I’ve let Hans and Gab drive it countless times when I’ve had too much to drink. It’s a small car and is fairly easy to use and navigate. I would let Anj use it too at some point, but I want her to perfect her u-turns first hahahaha.

Which one of your friends will be the most successful?  It’s already one of my friends to begin with but I’m not naming names. They come from a privileged background to begin with and their godfather already handed one of his companies down to them, so. They were also told the CEO position is already a sure slot for them.

What store did you last shop at?  I wanna say NCAT, this Korean-themed store that sells trinkets and jewelries and plushies and stuff. They also sell BTS albums so Anj and I dropped by to check out and touch all the albums we can’t afford yet HAHA

Do you think telepathy is real?  No.

When did you last draw something for fun?  Last Saturday when I played an online drawing/guessing game with my uncles and aunts.

Who makes the most in your entire family?  My dad.

Do you like writing essays?  I love essays, it’s my favorite writing piece to make.

Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal?  It turns into one when it gets obsessive, like when people get excessive plastic surgeries specifically to look like another person. I’m looking at you, fucking Oli London.

Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up?  It’s picked up.

When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands?  I look away and just sneeze. Sometimes I’ll put up my elbow.

Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? Erm, I usually had it at night. I only had morning sex when we would spend the night; and I nearly never had noon sex.

Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test?  No.

Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?  Gun to my head, Lil Wayne.

Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently:  Reena!!! I’m so grateful Angela introduced us to each other :) We both tend to get shy so we don’t actually actively get chatty when we see each other irl, but I love her presence and I love that she is my friend. I make up for it by being super friendly and wacky in our group chat haha. Does your car have a sunroof?  No. We used to have a car that did, but we had to sell that during the peak of the pandemic.

Are you closer to your mom or your dad?  Dad.

Have you ever had a friend with benefits? No.

Who’s the last person you cuddled with?  My ex.

Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook?  Yeup.

[quaememinisse]

Fights

Word count: 5,184

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Smut

Author’s note: based on my other series, https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799851/chapters/6284765

Don’t ask me why I write this ish...

          “Cherry, you don’t remember talking about this on Sunday? We talked about it on Sunday night,” Bucky sighs, placing a laundry basket full of Christina’s clothes on the floor in front of the basement door. He pushes a hand through his hair and leans back against the wall as Cherise continues to dig through the fridge for a half-empty bag of pre-packaged Caesar salad.

             “Are you hearing me, Cherise?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows.

             “Huh?”

             “Didja hear anything I just said?” Bucky asks. Cherise had explained to him that she was going to need him to pick Christina up again because of her meeting the following afternoon that just kind of came up in the middle of the week.

             “If you don’t wanna pick her up, Bucky, I’ll ask my mom—”

             “That’s not what I was talking about,” he says with some frustration now. Cherise finally finds the bag of salad she was looking for, hoping they still have enough of the dressing that Christina likes to eat, otherwise the salad won’t make it past the little girl’s mouth.

             “Have you seen that dressing Stina likes?”

Bucky sighs and pulls it out of the door, holding it up in front of her eyes.

             “So, Christina’s teacher-parent conference, you’re going with me this time. You said you would.”

             “James, please. I can’t even think about that right now.”

             “What?” he asks, and finally she picks up on his irritation.

             “Didn’t you say you were going to be able to go to it without me?”

He sighs, “Cherry—we talked about this on Sunday, and you said you weren’t going to have any meetings on Friday that would keep you from going.”

             “Please don’t use that tone with me. I don’t need that right now,” Cherise explains, dropping the salad on the granite counter.

             “Hey, I’ve been real patient all week with you coming home later than usual. The least you can do is find the time to go with me to a meeting about our daughter,” Bucky explains, his tone not having changed. Cherise spares him a glance before walking out of the kitchen to go the bathroom briefly. When she walks back into the kitchen, Bucky is standing where he was, his arms crossed, looking rather frustrated.

             “Can you not walk away from me mid conversation?”

             “I just went to the bathroom for a second, James. Relax.”

             “Don’t tell me to relax.”

             “You tell me that all the time when I get upset,” Cherise explains, opening the cabinet and pulling out three plates.

             “Stop changing the subject. Aren’t you going to just let Bruce handle this meeting and come hear what Christina’s teacher has to say about how she’s doing?”

             “James—I don’t know. She has been doing fine, hasn’t she? You didn’t have anything bad to tell me about her last parent-teacher meeting—”

             “That’s not the point, Cherise—”

             “Don’t raise your voice at me,” she says, starting to match his. Her headache doesn’t help, and getting agitated with her husband makes it worse. Bucky sighs, looking away a moment, his fists balled. She can tell he’s trying to calm down.

             “Can you make Christina her salad and bring it to her?”

Bucky walks to the cabinet and pulls out a pink plastic bowl that he’d bought from Target, knowing the girl will break china if she’s given any without supervision. He starts to pour the remainder of the salad into the bowl.

             “So, you’re going with me tomorrow. Christina’s teacher wants to meet at 5:20. That’s our slot.”

             “I can’t, James.”

He places his bionic hand on the counter and stares down at Cherise. She stops unloading the dishwasher to look at him, her expression gradually becoming irritated.

             “What is that look?” Cherise asks impatiently.

             “Are you giving me an attitude right now?”

             “You gave me one first with that fucking look.”

             “Don’t swear at me.”

Cherise knows how much Bucky hates for her to talk to him like that. It makes him feel disrespected. She has lost her patience and had wanted silence while making dinner. His frustration is making her headache worse.

“Ms. Foster has only met you once, Cherise—months ago. She thinks that you died or left, or something, and that I’m a single father.”

             “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cherise mutters, heading out of the kitchen and towards the garage to the extra refrigerator they kept there because the one in the kitchen was always getting too full. Cherise finds herself surprised to hear Bucky come out after her shortly, his steps hastened and harsh, not his usual pace.

             “I do so much every day for our family, Cherise, and you sit there and disrespect me when I’m talking to you,” Bucky explains, his voice low, but Cherise can tell from the crease of his thick eyebrows that his anger is growing. Having already had a headache and coming home from a long day of experimentation with Dr. Cho, the last thing she wanted to hear about were more meetings. She hadn’t really understood how important to Bucky this was until now. He usually did the most when it came to their daughter, in terms of picking her up, dropping her off, even cleaning the house, because his schedule was simply more flexible. Bucky’s entire flesh hand wraps around Cherise’s upper arm as she leans into the fridge, catching her off guard.

             “Are you listening to me, Cherise?”

She sighs.

             “Yes, James.” But when she walks back halfway through the door, he grabs her by the waist rather aggressively, nearly causing her to drop the chicken that had been defrosting out there.

             “So, stop walking away from me,” he says loudly. Cherise gasps, putting the large bowl of defrosting meat on a shelf nearby before grabbing her husband’s wrists and tugging.

             “I don’t know if I can make it to the meeting, James. But you can handle that—”

             “You said you’d go this time. You have missed all of them this semester.”

She examines his face to find him looking a lot angrier than she thinks he should be about this.

             “…Let go of me,” she says calmly, not comfortable with the degree of anger in his expression.

             “I asked you to stop walking away from me,” he practically snarls. His metal arm whirs loudly, something she’s used to hearing when Bucky is excited or upset, and in this moment, she knows it’s the latter. He shakes his head slowly.

             “Why can’t ya just respect me for once, just listen—”

             “Let go of me,” she says again, pulling away bodily. Bucky held on for a second before sighing and putting both of his hands up a few seconds, during which time Cherise looks at him angrily.

             “I told you on the weekend, James, there’s a lot going on at the compound this week in forensics. I don’t know if I’m going to have time—”

             “Time?!”

She flinches at the sudden loudness of his voice.

             “For our daughter! Are you serious?!”

He takes a step towards her, closing the garage door.

             “You barely remember half the things I say to you these days—you don’t even want to help me raise our child—”

             “What the fuck, James!” she’s angry now, but her eyes fill up.

She reaches for the chicken and turns around, but before she can touch the doorknob, Bucky’s hands are on her waist again.

             “I told you to stop walking away from me,” he states. She drops the chicken at the sheer force of him pulling her back into the garage. And then she slaps him, something she had never done before. She’d bought that organic chicken because she didn’t want Christina eating shit, and there it lay on the garage floor, unpackaged. Bucky turns and slams his metal fist through the garage wall. Before Cherise can blink, he has punched five large holes there. She gasps, rushing for the door and pulling it open abruptly before walking into the living room, grabbing Christina unexpectedly off the couch, and carrying her as quickly as she can up to the attic, locking the door after herself.

             “Mumma,” Christina complains for the umpteenth time since Cherise had snatched her up, “I was watching Bambi,” the little girl explains, frustrated that her mother interrupted her so unceremoniously.

             “Shh—no noise, baby,” Cherise explains, gently holding her hand over Christina’s mouth as she sits her in an old armchair before walking over to the corner behind some racks of clothes to find a rifle which Bucky had in a small arsenal Christina knew nothing about. Cherise fumbles with the magazine, finding it empty.

             “Mumma…what are you do—”

             “Stay where you are, Stina,” Cherise calls, holding the gun behind her back as she peers around the clothing racks at the four-year-old who had started to approach.

             “But Bambi—”

             “Christina, please go sit down where I had you,” Cherise explains. The girl starts whining as she makes her way back to the chair. Cherise’s hands are shaking and she stops looking for the bullets, tears streaming down her face. She hesitates a moment before storing the rifle back where it was and walking to the girl to find her playing unsurely with her socks. Cherise had never seen Bucky get that upset, to the point where he started breaking something. Many times, especially before Christina was born, he’d had this conversation with her, his fear that he might snap. He’d showed Cherise that arsenal several times and even taught her how to load the weapons. He slept with a handgun in their bedside drawer, but she’d thought he only kept one there because he was paranoid about home invasions. Deep down he feared that someday something might set him off again and he’d be dangerous. He wouldn’t have been able to bear it if something like that ever happened where he put his wife and child in danger.

The way he was so angry in the garage mere minutes ago had genuinely scared Cherise. She had hit him much harder than she’d meant to, but he was already frustrated about the parent-teacher meeting and the possibility of Cherise not going with him. He didn’t like it when she walked away from him, something Cherise knew, but something was different about it tonight and Cherise wasn’t quite sure what.

“Mumma, why you cry?” Christina asks, turning her head to the side. Cherise immediately wipes her eyes, kneeling in front of the girl and smiling.

             “It’s nothing, baby. Hey, keep your socks on, okay? It’s cold.”

Cherise starts to put her daughter’s socks back on, listening out for whether she hears Bucky coming up the stairs, but it’s silent. This silence makes her more anxious. She thinks about the shotgun again. But she can’t imagine using it, especially not on Bucky. She figures that if he was going to really lose it on her, he’d have found them by now. He knew where she would go if she felt scared and needed to get one of his guns. He was probably already in their bedroom, looking for her.

“Mommy, I’m hungr—”

             “Shhh,” Cherise interrupts, covering Christina’s mouth.

             “Why are we up here, mumma?” Christina whispers, looking around the attic. The child sighs.

             “Where’s daddy?”

             “…”

             “Mumma?”

             “H-he had to run an errand, baby. I just need you to be quiet a little longer, okay?”

Christina pulls her hand through Cherise’s hair playfully. The sound of Bucky’s Harley starting down the street tells Cherise that he has left the building. She sighs, picking Christina up and starting for the attic stairs again. Bucky is gone by the time Cherise makes it back into the garage, the organic chicken still playing dead on the garage floor. Cherise decides she can salvage it by soaking it in some vinegar before baking it. She stands in the garage for at least a minute, examining the damage Bucky has done to the wall. The cold air is coming into the garage now. Cherise shivers, interrupted by the sound of small footsteps.

             “Mumma?”

             “I’m coming, baby. Do you want a peanut butter sandwich? It’s going to be a while before I finish cooking.”

Christina’s whole face lights up, and Cherise guides her back into the house before she has the chance to see the holes in the garage wall and inquire about them.

               Christina is sleeping peacefully in her room when Cherise finally decides to take a shower and get ready for bed. Bucky had texted her not long after she finished cooking, saying that he was sorry for the way he acted and that he went for a ride to clear his head. Still not having responded, Cherise leaves her phone to buzz on the night stand, letting her husband’s call go to voicemail. She feels a lot more relaxed once she envelopes her senses in steam and aromas. She doesn’t even hear Bucky come home again. She nearly jumps out of her skin when she finds him standing in the doorway of the bathroom as she pulls the curtain back and reaches for her towel. She grabs it and wraps herself immediately, suddenly very uncomfortable that he’s blocking the entire doorway with his body, looking in at her with some obvious remorse. Cherise shuts the water off before pulling the curtain back more. She stands in the shower looking at him hard, and he just looks sorry. His cheeks are rosy from the cold, and she doesn’t have to make it all the way over to him to tell he’s been drinking. He can’t get drunk, but she can smell it.

             “Baby, I—”

             “No,” she interrupts, shaking her head, holding her elbows. She can still feel him grabbing her by the waist. He had never touched her so harshly before. He had scared her. Cherise’s heart rate quickens.

             “But I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, a few strands of hair dusting his chiseled jaw as he tilts his head to the side.

             “I—I’ll buy another chicken—”

             “It’s not about that, James,” Cherise explains impatiently, her voice breaking. He sighs, shrinking somewhat. She can tell that he regrets his actions.

             “I lost control. Just for a second, baby. I’m sorry.”

She’s silent for a few seconds, wiping her eye.

             “Get out of the doorway,” she says, not looking at him.

             “Cherry—”

             “I need space right now,” she states, but she’s trembling, enough for Bucky to notice. He steps out of the doorway and she finally steps out of the shower. She approaches the sink cautiously, reaching for her tooth brush.

             “Cherry, I didn’t mean it. I was upset.” She shakes her head, rushing to the bathroom door and closing it.

He’s not in bed when she walks into their room. She can hear the TV downstairs, finds Bucky’s jeans and the shirt he was wearing in his hamper. She knows that he took the couch, that she didn’t want to talk to him, that she was uncomfortable with his volatile reaction in the garage just over two hours prior. He never liked for them to go to bed upset with each other, but she knows he realizes this is more than just being upset: he had frightened her. It was the last thing that Bucky wanted to do, cause his own wife to be afraid of him. So, he had taken some fresh sheets, grabbed his PJs and showered in the downstairs bathroom.

Cherise checks his bedside drawer to find that his handgun is still there. She hates herself for checking at all. She doesn’t believe that Bucky would really hurt her, not in his actual right mind. But she still had to be sure. It was one of his fears that he would snap one day, that Hydra’s secrets inside of him would never really go away. When Cherise wakes up, Bucky is in their closet getting his clothes, and she knows he’s about to peel Christina from in front of the TV with her Cheerios to drive her to school. When he walks out of the closet to find that Cherise is sitting up in bed, he looks at her remorsefully again. He finishes pulling the t-shirt over his head and throws a fresh pair of clothes into his gym bag, the one he always took to work. Cherise sighs, reaching for her charged phone and unlocking it.

“We need to talk,” Bucky says calmly. She closes her phone, sighs, rubs her temples.

“I know,” she responds, with equal calm, “But not right now. I really have to go. I already made Stina’s lunch. I asked Banner to cover for me so I can get out of this meeting and go to the parent-teacher conference, okay?”

Bucky nods.

“I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable…Cherry, I love you. I wasn’t gonna hurt you—I could never do that. I’m sorry,” he says with such emphasis. Cherise’s heart jumps.

“I love you too, but I’m upset.”

He sighs, gazing out the door. She knows this isn’t what he wants to hear, but it’s the truth.

             “Gotta go,” he says, picking up his gym bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and sparing her one last look before he walks out of their room to go get their daughter.

             Around lunch, Cherise finds that Bucky has texted her to say that he’ll pick Christina up from preschool around 4 and drop her off at Sam and Kate’s, who said that Christina could spend the weekend. Bucky explains that he thought it might be good to let her spend time with her older cousin, aunt, and uncle, to give himself and Cherise a chance to talk. At first, Cherise is hesitant about it, but she starts to realize that this is pretty important. The argument she and Bucky had the previous afternoon shed light for her on how she sometimes wasn’t as involved in their daughter’s education as she maybe should have been. Teary-eyed as she bites into an apple, Cherise texts Bucky back that she thinks this is a good idea, and that she will meet him at Christina’s school no later than 5PM.

             Cherise pulls up to the lot of Christina’s school at 4:47PM. She had always prided herself on her punctuality. To her surprise, Bucky is already there, having driven their Rav4. He’s leaning against the door, texting. Cherise’s phone pings the moment she sees him. Before she even steps out of her car, she can see that he’s dressed very nicely. He’s wearing a pair of charcoal dress pants, light blue dress shirt, black tie, and loafers, his coat unzipped, hair in a neat ponytail at the back of his head. She can’t help but feel her heart beat wildly when she steps out of the car to meet him. He’s generally in sports attire, due to his job, and she hadn’t seen him look so dapper in a while. As soon as he sees her coming, he opens the car door to retrieve something. He smiles down at her without teeth, hopefully, handing her a bouquet of peonies.

             “Bucky…you didn’t have to—”

             “Yes, I did.”

As she gazes at the flowers with a large smile that she can feel warming her from the inside out, Bucky pulls a second bouquet out of the car for her. This one is assorted hydrangeas.

             “I remembered that you really like those, too, and I couldn’t decide. So, I got ya both. I’m sorry,” Bucky explains again. Cherise gazes up at him, her eyes wet. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

             “I love them,” she explains.

             “And I’m gonna fix the garage wall—I already went to Home Depot and got the paint and some things to patch it up. And I went and got more chickens, organic like the one you made last night. I’m really sorry.”

             “James—”

             “I mean it. You and Stina, you’re my entire world. I didn’t mean to get so angry. I regret scaring you.” He places his flesh hand on her waist gently, trying to measure Cherise’s level of comfort. He holds her waist a little tighter when she doesn’t pull away from him.

             “I don’t think Stina even heard us fighting,” Cherise explains, “And yes, your reaction scared me. But I was also upset with some of the things you were saying. I felt like you were trying to tell me I’m a bad mother.” Cherise’s voice cracks at the end of her sentence and Bucky looks remorseful again.

             “You’re not, I didn’t say that—”

             “You implied it.”

             “I was wrong…I was upset. I didn’t mean it, Cherry. You’re a great mom—”

             “But you’re right. I haven’t gone to one of these meetings. And you’ve been telling me that Christina often asks you when I’m coming home. I don’t always spend enough time with her and I feel badly about that.”

Bucky rubs her arms comfortingly. Cherise wipes her eyes.

             “Babe, I’m sorry…Please, don’t cry.”

Bucky takes the flowers as she starts to dig in her purse for a tissue. He places the bouquets back in the car before producing some coffee shop napkins that were stashed in their Rav4. Cherise sighs, trying to collect herself.

             “Fuck. I don’t want to look like a fucking mess in front of the teacher.” Bucky rubs her hip with his flesh hand as he hands her the napkins.

             “Can we just try and get through this and then go home and talk more?” he asks.

Cherise nods. She takes a few deep breaths.

             “You weren’t wearing that this morning. You look really nice, James.”

He blushes and starts to lead her to the entrance.

             “I—I just wanted to look presentable, ya know?”

 Ms. Foster seems surprised to find that Christina does, in fact, have a mom, and Cherise can already tell that the woman is disappointed. She looks to be around Cherise’s age, and Cherise begins to realize that maybe part of the reason Bucky wanted her to go with him so badly to this meeting was because a number of the single moms would stare at him, in ways that Cherise could tell they wanted him. It made her feel a little jealous, but she knew Bucky would never have a wandering eye. He had clutched her around the waist with his flesh arm, even kissed her temple a few times, as they waited patiently in the hall for their turn with the teacher.

             Thankful that their daughter seems to be doing okay in school, the drive home is less nerve racking for Cherise. She checks her rearview mirror a handful of times to find that Bucky is not far behind her in their other car. When they arrive home, she walks towards the fridge in the garage and opens it to find two more organic chickens, a bucket of paint which matches the garage wall on the floor with a brush and plaster waiting to be used. Bucky walks up behind her to find her looking at the holes he had punched in the wall. He sighs, and she doesn’t have to turn around to look at him to know he’s disappointed in himself.

             “I’m sorry that I grabbed you. I really wasn’t gonna hurt you, Cherry. I couldn’t. Not in my right mind. Not even when I get mad. I don’t have the stomach.”

             “I know,” she says, continuing to stare at the holes. This is where he had placed his anger instead. Finally, she turns around to find him gazing down at her with an utterly sad expression, his eyes damp, but the tears not falling. He’s holding both of the bouquets of flowers he had bought her.

             “I love you so much. I would die first,” he explains. She places her hand on his chest and hugs him. He wraps his arms around her, still clutching the flowers.

             “I love you, James. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I wish I hadn’t slapped you...I was exhausted…I had a headache…I’m sorry for that.” He kisses her forehead lingeringly. She shivers.

             “Come on. Let’s get in the house,” he says, leading her. She fishes her keys from her purse, feeling Bucky kiss the back of her head as she does so. The warmth of their home, their dog wagging his tail upon the door opening invites them both in. Bucky follows Cherise to the kitchen where she immediately finds two vases in the cabinet under the sink for the flowers. She fills them both and smiles as he hands them to her. Carefully, Cherise cuts some of the leaves from the stems so that the flowers will fit in the vases. Bucky tugs gently at the sleeve of her coat, and she pauses to let him remove it before he makes his way to the hanger in the hall by the front door.

             He goes out of his way to fix her a plate of food. He had even bought Cherise’s favorite noodles from the store she liked to shop at. She figures he’d bought two chickens to overcompensate. They didn’t usually fight so badly, but whenever they did, he always made up for it afterwards by doing the most that he could for her. He doesn’t allow Cherise to do the dishes and instead takes care of everything she was going to do around the house. When they get into bed and are comfortably beside each other, they’re both relaxed enough to talk again. They sit facing each other, Cherise’s arms around her shins, Bucky Indian style. He looks so apologetic still.

             “Do you forgive me?” he asks, hopefully. Cherise sighs.

             “I do. I just don’t want us to fight like that. I don’t like it.”

             “I don’t like it either, babe. It sucks.” Bucky runs a hand down her arm.

             “But I think you were right to be upset that I was short with you. I’m sorry,” Cherise admits. She has apologized to him twice now. She cups his cheek, smooth from a fresh shave, her thumb tracing his supple bottom lip. He looks relieved now that she’s touching him again.

             “We were both up really early all week. I think we were both exhausted. We need to communicate better.”

             “We do. I remember that we did talk about Christina’s meeting on Sunday. It’s just that a lot has been going on and I totally forgot.”

             “It’s okay.”

             “It’s not, though. Christina means as much to me as she does to you, and I didn’t think about how important that meeting was. I guess I just figured that because of the last few, you would always tell me that everything was going well, she was getting along with her peers. I didn’t think it was a big deal that only one of us was going. But I’m going to keep making time for that and getting someone to cover me when I have to. I don’t need to always stay as late as I do, but some experiments are time sensitive and I just get so wrapped up in my work.”

             “I know, babe. And I can appreciate how hard you work. You provide for me and Stina a lot, even if you don’t always have time to cook when you come home. I know how much your career means to you and that’s why I take Christina to school most days, so you can sleep more.”

Cherise smiles, her eyes full of love. His bionic hand massages her buttock.

             “I just want for you to respect me when we talk. I think that’s what bothered me so much.”

             “I’m sorry, Bucky. I shouldn’t have done that.”

             “But…it still doesn’t justify what I did. I shoulda just let you walk away, and I definitely shouldn’t have punched holes in the wall. I know my reaction was out of control. I’m going to work on that going forward. I don’t like that I scared you. That really feels bad.” Bucky gazes down between them with regret again. Cherise climbs into his lap, holding him. His arms encircle her warmly.

“Then let’s do something that feels good,” Cherise explains.

Before she knows it, she’s lying on top of him, kissing him, tasting his tongue and letting him explore her mouth, his hands clutching her butt beneath her underwear. She pauses to sit up and remove her tank top. Bucky turns to lead her onto her back. He takes his time kissing and sucking each breast, massaging her hips and thighs, gradually pulling her underwear off. She knew they would have makeup sex. They couldn’t help it. When he starts to go down on her, she releases all the tension of the week from her body, focusing instead on the softness of Bucky’s hair between her fingers, his head between her thighs. On her third orgasm, she clutches at his shoulders, beckoning him up. He had already begun stroking himself inside his flannel pajama pants. He questions her with his eyes, licking his lips, moving to place his head back where it was. He wasn’t going to stop until she was too exhausted for him to continue. But she grabs him, leading him on top of her now. Bucky starts to pull off his pants and suddenly he’s inside of her, the two of them moaning upon penetration.

             It was nice to have the house to themselves, silence, the air filled only with the sounds of their shared pleasure and flesh contacting flesh. Cherise’s hands all over his shoulders, his back, his chest, are a welcomed sensation as Bucky pauses in thrusting to kiss her. She grabs needfully at his lower back and he continues, pulling her up so that he’s on his knees in their bed with Cherise straddling him. She meets his thrusts, his arms strong as they support her entire upper body. He could tell from the way her head drops back slightly and her lips part that Cherise is going to have another orgasm. She gazes deeply into his eyes. When he feels her walls contracting rhythmically around him, squeezing him, he can’t last much longer, he carefully but swiftly lies Cherise on her back before pulling out completely and collapsing beside her, catching his seed in a trembling hand. Cherise’s hand on his chest, clutching, causes him to grin. She had turned over, her face in the sheets, panting. She’s muttering repeatedly that she loves him, he turns on his side to kiss her on the neck before reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

When she finally can breathe again, Cherise is on her side, gazing at Bucky dreamily, looking very satisfied. Bucky rubs her hip, admiring her naked form. Even after having a baby, she’s always still so beautiful in his eyes. He traces her cesarean scar with fondness, finding her eyes closed when he finally looks at her face again. He inches closer to kiss her forehead a moment before turning around to flick off the lamp, pull the blankets up to Cherise’s shoulders, so that they could dream together.