where imagination begins

2

Whose bad end is this again?

aka thoughts that keep me up at 2am if we had his ROUTE

Demoralisation.

We’ve talked a lot about demoralisation amongst doctors, but I think it’s not always easy to understand. Because we do love our jobs and we do want to help people. We want to love our jobs. We all started off desperately wanting to be doctors, and many of us do actually enjoy the doctoring bit. So why are we all so down? I’ll try to give you a taste.

Imagine wanting to do something, to be someone so badly, that you spent your entire childhood and adolescence working singlemindedly towards it. You give it your everything, extra study, more tests, the works. Imagine being the smart kid at school, eager to work hard and impress, and being good at many things. Imagine being able to be nearly anything you could have wanted. Imagine spending the best years of your life stuck in revision whilst everyone around you was partying or dating or doing things that were fun. Imagine paying serious money for the privilege, and taking years out of your life to achieve it. Years studying. Years not working. Years of getting into debt when you could have been supporting yourself or your family. Imagine being so happy to graduate and finally be able to help people. Imagine your nervous, frenzied first attempts at being a doctor in the big bad world out there. Imagine the excitement of succeeding.

Imagine missing friends’ weddings and relatives’ funerals because there was nobody else who could be there to keep your patients safe. Imagine having to make countless excuses to friends and to family and to partners. Imagine all the dates who decided “this is just too… complicated for me. Sorry.” Imagine losing touch with friends because you were always moving, always busy, and always tired. Sometimes they will understand, sometimes they won’t. Imagine all your friends working reasonable hours, earning a decent amount and having time to actually have some semblance of a life. Imagine rarely being able to see even the ones that understand and love you for who you are. Imagine starting to forget what it’s like to have a hobby or do something that isn’t work. Imagine starting to forget who you are, where your role ends and where your personhood begins.

Imagine working long days and silly shifts only to come home and head straight for your books. For exams you struggle to pay yourself. Imagine being a single parent, and having to wonder whether you can afford to do this job because it’s so hard to get childcare. Imagine hearing your child say “You’re never home. I miss you” nearly every day. Imagine your partner telling you that you seem to be working more and more lately. Imagine feeling that you are neglecting your own loved ones in trying to keep everyone else’s safe. Imagine fearing that you will end up resenting the job you love, because it will have taken so much from your life.

Imagine feeling forced to work another last minute shift because there was literally nobody else. Imagine gradually finding that more and more, every day was short staffed and busy. Imagine feeling that you aren’t giving your best care because you are stuggling just to get the urgent things done and keep patients safe. Imagine skipping meals and lack of sleep so often that it becomes normal. Imagine feeling like you can’t take sick leave because there is nobody else to kee people safe.  Imagine things getting busier and busier until work is a nearly constant grind and you barely have time to think. Imagine nearly every day being a ‘major incident’. Imagine increasing pressure from all your colleagues. Imagine feeling unsupported by your seniors or your colleagues on a regular basis. Imagine being left to deal with difficult situations on your own. Imagine how hard it is to deal with grave situations, and how emotionally draining and heartbreaking it can be.

Imagine patients and relatives who don’t see the pressure you are under. Imagine those who scream, yell, demand things are done right away or threaten to sue. Imagine those who are verbally abusive or violent. Imagine the ones that make all your colleagues cry, and from whom you have to hide your tears. Imagine how often your colleagues never report abuse because they don’t feel that they can. Imagine a context where failings are subjected to ‘trial by media’ and individuals are vilified, but the systemic failings which caused mistakes to happen are neither acknowledged nor addressed. Imagine a culture where doctors are under duty by the GMC to whistleblow, but given no legal protection if they do so.

Imagine all your colleagues talking about considering leaving the profession. Imagine your colleagues who have already left telling you life is much better abroad or outside of medicine. Imagine nearly every speciality reporting recruitment shortages, bad morale and overwork. Imagine knowing that you are twice as likely to suffer from mental health problems or suicide.

Imagine becoming more and more afraid that you will slip up due to tiredness. Imagine fearing the impact that this could have on your patients and their families, and how you might live with yourself. Imagine knowing that if you did, you would probably lose your job, but the employers and those who caused those conditions to happen would face no consequences.  Imagine having to talk close friends off the ledge. Not just once, but on a regular basis. Imagine knowing that some people don’t succeed. Imagine knowing that this will only get worse if things deteriorate.

Imagine your boss saying that you’re not doing enough. Imagine them saying that you all need to work more days. Imagine them saying that there just need to be more cuts. Imagine your employer having already cut so many things that everyone is always struggling. Imagine a context where services are not appropriately funded, and then individuals working within are blamed for predictable shortcomings which could have been avoided with appropriate funding and safeguards. Imagine fearing that instead of proper investment, those whose job it is to look after your healthcare system may be trying to privatise it for profit. Imagine wondering if your patients and your children will be able to afford healthcare in the future.

Imagine your boss taking the safeguards away which limit how much time your employer can make you work. Imagine your boss reducing pay for the agency staff who are filling empty posts and keeping things afloat. Imagine being expected to work more hours, more weekends for less pay. Imagine the constant pressure to see more patients in less time, and being given less resources to look after them. Imagine knowing that you will probably work far longer than any rostered hours. Imagine knowing that your senior colleagues are fighting a similar battle and their conditions may be similarly affected. Imagine finding out how many of them can’t wait to retire, and remembering the days when doctors used to love working late into life.  Imagine realising that you may not win this battle.

Imagine your boss telling everyone they just don’t understand why you are all demoralised and telling everyone that you’re actually getting a pay rise and less hours. Imagine the public believing the lies. Imagine the media believing that everyone is demoralised because the union is telling us to be. Imagine the public telling you that you knew what you were getting into. Imagine the public telling you that you are overpaid, greedy, lazy, incompetent and ought to shut up and get back to work. Imagine the public telling you that the way your profession have chosen to voice your concerns (striking) is unacceptable, but not listening to any of the other ways your colleagues have tried to engage them. Imagine hearing over and over again that the system, which is underfunded compared to every other Western country, is ‘unsustainable’ when this is not true.

Imagine just wanting to do your job and help people, but feeling bogged down in difficulties that should never be a part of your job. Imagine loving being a doctor but hating what it has become. Imagine fearing that situations may get so bad that you too may be forced to leave for your own sanity and health.

This is why so many of my peers are demoralised.

“Mate, this is going to be the best Halloween ever…you’ll see”

This year, The Doctor and Castiel decide to dress as each other while they Trick or Treat

Cas is glad to have a long coat again and the Doctor assures him that stripes really suit the Angel

“What can I call you?” - Kim Jongdae


“Hello?”

Your voice echoed through the line. No sounds came out of the other line. It wasn’t a big deal, you had plenty of people hang up on you on this line. That was part of the job, being a sex operator and all. It was your job to turn on the customers and go along with every single little thing they wanted you to do. But there were customers that would call, and back out last minute. I guess it was kind of embarrassing to talk dirty through the phone.

You flipped over on your bed, looking at the time you had waited for a sound from the guy on the other line. 2 minutes. You had lost another customer, but at least you would get paid for the two minutes of static silence.

Just as you were about to hit the disconnect button, a soft voice came through the line. If you had had music on like usual you would have completely missed what he had said.

“Hello? Are you there?”

You settled yourself into the sheets around you. Now the breathing on the other side of the line was obvious and you could tell he was actually waiting on the phone. This was the part you hated, hearing the voice and trying to play a game inside of your head in how the mystery man in the other line looked like. But it was something you would never find out. Did it bother you? Yeah. But this was the easiest job you could even think of. And you enjoyed it fully.

“Yes hun. I’m here! I’m y/n! I heard from your voice message that your name is Jongdae. Is that correct?” You asked, trying not to sound too happy or compassionate. For some reason your head spun with the awkwardness that was on the line. Another minute passed before he answered.

“I’m sorry. I’m not alone right now. My roommates are down stairs..But yes, my name is Jongdae. Is there any chance we can make this quick?” You had to stop yourself from laughing at the desperate tone in the voice of the male on the other line. It wasn’t odd to hear but this was a new scenario for you. A male calling while his roommates were only a flight of stairs away. He did know this was a sex line right? That involved talking?

“The quickness depends on you, sweetie.” You said a hint of cockiness in your voice. You could hear his breath come out in a puff on the line and you could only assume that he was smiling. Which made a smile in turn come to your features.

“Then I guess it won’t be too quick.” He replied without hesitation making a chill shoot down your body. This is where your favorite part came in. Where the male on the line was obviously interested in it, but still in the getting there stage. You got to know a few things to help along the process.

Without bringing the phone away from your face, you reached down to play with the sensitive skin on your sides and neck. Trying to get yourself in the mood not only with the words from the male.

“Are you saying you last long, Jongdae? I’m sure girls love that aspect of you. Is there anything you would like me to call you?”

He voice came out silky and much different than what it was just a minute ago. “Call me sir, and please. No more of this getting to know you bullshit. I want to hear you.”

You head raced. Not with hormones or anything of attraction but you couldn’t figure out the guy on the other line. Not many customers got you thinking this much, and honestly since this was so anonymous most nights you found yourself in sweats in a tee aimlessly moaning into a line just to make money. No meaning behind it at all. Sometimes if you were really lazy for the money you would put on a soundtrack of moans and run your vibrator. That’s just how your sex line went.

But Jongdae? Even the sound of his voice coming through the line made your legs clenched shut a little. “Do you want to hear me touch myself sir? Do you want me to moan out your name as I play with my pretty tight pussy?”

A soft moan, followed by the obvious sound of a zipper coming down on the other end of the line. Your heart sped up a bit as you hurried to shimmy out of your pants. “That’s exactly what I want you to do kitten. I want to hear ever little perfect moan that can come from your pretty lips. Let sir hear how he’s turned you on just with his voice.”

For once you followed the commands that came through the line. The thick tone of the male making you want to do much more than just moan in a phone for him. Your fingers easily slipped past the boundaries of your panties, running soft circles into your sensitive nub. Moans fell off your lips at an alarming rate. You found yourself actually enjoying the call for once.

“That’s a good little kitten. Do your fingers feel good? I want you to be louder sweetie. Tell me exactly how you feel right now. Do you wish that those fingers of yours could be replaced by my cock?” Your heart dropped, beads of sweat forming on your hairline at his words. This was a completely different guy you thought you were talking to in the beginning.

This is where the imagination from the beginning comes in. What did this guy look like? How would his hands feel running over your skin? How would his lips feel on your bare skin? Would his hands be rough enough to handle you? Thoughts got the best of you and your pitch got higher. You slipped a few fingers past your entrance, delicately curling them upwards.

“Ah, sir.” You were lucky words could even come out at this point. “I would much rather have my pussy clenching around your cock. I want to pleasure you sir. With my mouth, my hands, with my whole being. Would you like that? Someone that would submit to you completely? Huh sir?” The breathing on the other line got labored and you could tell he had been going at it the whole time you were talking. You didn’t give him the chance to reply before your thoughts got the best of you.

“I’m so wet for you sir. I want to feel your cock pounding into me as I moan out your name.I want to feel your rough hands grabbing onto my hips..” Your moans covered up the rest of your words as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming and quickly at that.

His moans were much more prominent than before and you could tell he was getting close. “You have such a filthy mouth kitten. Believe me you would be getting a punishment if I was there for being so dirty. Are you close kitten? I wanna hear those sweet moans as you cum.”

You unconsciously nodded your head as to his words, speeding up your fingers, chasing your release. “Yes, sir. I’m cumming.” Your whole body shook as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami. Flashes of white bursting like fireworks behind your eyelids. You could tell from the sounds I’m the other line that he as well had hit his high and was riding it out the same time as you.

The line gathered silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “What did you say your name was again?” You giggled, wiping some sweat from your skin. “Y/n? If we ever see each other, let’s act like this didn’t happen.” You chuckle. You had never met a client outside of the line and you hoped you never did. With that you were both saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

But for the next few days his voice rattled in your head from time to time. It never really disappeared. Which was odd, and less pleasing than you thought it would be.



A few weeks later you sat a couple rows back in your first lecture of the new semester. Familiar faces surrounded you but some were completely new to you. But you could tell from how many were not new that this class was going to be a good one for the semester.
A unfamiliar good looking face stared you down from an above row and you found your self curious so you stood to go introduce yourself. As he saw you approaching him he stood to greet you, bowing slightly. You stopped him and smiled. “I’m y/n! Nice to meet you! What can I call you?”
Just by the look on his face you knew something was wrong. His eyes widened and you noticed him smirking slightly. What was up with him. One word came out of his mouth and you found yourself in the same state of shock.

“Jongdae..”

3

in a galaxy far, far away challenge

day 4: favorite relationshipanakin & padme (anidala)

“you love me? i thought we had decided not to fall in love. that we’d be forced to live a lie and that it would destroy our lives.”

“i think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway. i truly… deeply… love you and before we die i want you to know.”

Darkness (Bucky x Reader)

Request: Can I request a bucky imagine where it begins with the reader, Bucky, and Steve on the helicarrier scene from Winter Soldier, and she was a childhood friend of the two who was frozen with Steve, and was in love with him but never said anything? And then later on she and steve are looking for him but she gets attacked by hydra one night alone and bucky saves her and they recover together? Lots of angst and fluff? Thank you so much! You’re so good at writing.

Words: 3,042

Warnings: Fighting, some angst, mentions of blood. 

I changed it slightly, but it still matches your request and everything! It’s not edited for errors yet. 

I watched the Agents of SHIELD season finale on Netflix yesterday and omgggg


It was suppose to be your day off. 

You were supposed to be at home watching Netflix and eating pizza. 

You weren’t supposed to be here. 

You were scurrying along behind Steve, his broad shoulders blocking your view as you walked down the railing. Your feet hurt, your head hurt, your arms were sore and you had a bruises and bloody cuts all over. You were tired. 

Suddenly Steve stopped and you nearly ran into his back, you were about to ask what the holdup was but then you peaked your head out from behind him and saw who was blocking the way. The man who had caused you so much distress in one day; the Winter Soldier.

He looked like Bucky, but he sure as hell wasn’t Bucky. He had no control over his actions, of course you knew that, and you didn’t blame Bucky for all the troubles and fights, you blamed the Winter Soldier. 

You were so tired at this point that you almost wanted to just tell him to move the fuck out of your way so you can wrap this up and go home. You decided against it after some thought. You wanted to go home alive

 “People are gonna die, Buck.” Steve spoke up after a moment of thick tension. “I can’t let that happen.” 

You really wished Steve would send you a mental message about what was about to happen so you knew what was going on. Most of the time Steve leaped into action and you just kind of went with it, but when dealing with the Winter Solider side of Bucky, you didn’t really want to do that. 

The Winter Soldier remained still, he only stared directly at Steve with no emotion. Another moment of thick tension pasted before Steve spoke again, this time his voice cracking.

“Please don’t make me do this.” Your heart broke a little and you would have loved to throw your arms around your best friend and squeeze as hard as you could. You wanted to make him feel better, but you couldn’t hug him right now and a hug wouldn’t really solve his pain. 

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Requested by an anon |  Can I request for a video imagine where in the beginning, you confess to Taehyung that you like him, but he kindly rejects you at that time bc he just doesn’t see you that way. Later, he notices someone else confess to you & Tae senses that the guy is a player who will end up hurting your feelings. Tae tries to warn you, but you’re a little frustrated since he told you he didn’t even like you so why interfere? Tae realizes his feelings & confesses~ ^^

A/N: I hope I did your request justice! :) 

BGM: I Am You, You Are Me (inst) - Zico

Please like or reblog if you enjoy it! :) Please do not claim as your own! Requests are closed!

Click Here for more: Masterlist

Going public (Nate Maloley Imagine)

A/N: Hope you enjoy! There’s definitely time jumps in this one, so bare with me because I tried my best. Keep sending in requests! || MASTERLIST

Requested by Anonymous: Hey, you can make an Imagine where Nate begins dating a famous teenage actress 18 years being so young and winning awards like Oscar, Golden Globe, Emmy … and then after the two take their courtship media starts about them? PS: I love their Imagines, they are perfect!

Pairing: Reader + Nate Maloley || Word Count: 3000+

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Imagine #6: Not a Damsel in Distress

Request: Can I request a Peter Pan imagine where in the beginning I’m with Hook but when we go to invade the lost boy camp/Neverland, Peter somehow wins me over?


“Alright men!” Hook shouted out, “Tonight is night, tonight we take the lost boys’ camp! It’s our turn for a surprise!” The men cheered along with their captain, while you stood off to the side, watching as they all prepared for the battle. You sighed as Hook made his way over to you, your hazel eyes clashing against his blue ones as he towered over your small frame. A frown made its way to his face, “Are you alright, darling?”

You simply shrugged, “I don’t know Killian, I can’t help but have a bad feeling about tonight.”

He only kissed the top of your head, “Everything will be alright. Just stay out of the way so I don’t have to worry about you.” You only nodded your head in response. “In fact, why don’t you go visit the mermaids? That way I know you’re far away from camp.”

You looked up to him, “But I want to help you guys! I can’t just leave you to fend for yourself!”

Hook only chuckled at you, “I’ll be alright, I just need you out of the way so I can focus.”

You frowned at him, “Fine. But only because I don’t want you to get hurt. Even if I can fend for myself.”

Another chuckle, “Sure you can, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes and walked away from him, grabbing your bag and headed to the mermaid lagoon.

You had been roaming the forest of Neverland trying to past time. Eventually you made your way to the lagoon and sat with the mermaids, talking with them for hours about nothing in particular.

“Y/N, you keep sighing. What’s wrong?” Your friend Melody had asked.

You only shook your head and looked down at the flower you were messing with, “It’s nothing.” She raised her eyebrow at you, “It’s just, well every time Killian has a mission or a battle or something he always sends me away. Tells me to come visit you guys or go walk around. Stay away from wherever they are. I mean I love you guys and everything, but every time I tell him I can take care of myself he just laughs at me. I know he thinks I’m just some weak damsel who needs saving, but I just wish I could prove him wrong.”

The girls started to comfort you, but they quickly backed away. You saw the fear in their eyes and turned to see the infamous Peter Pan standing behind you with a smirk on his face, “Hello love, I hear you’re having boy troubles.”

You stood up and growled at him, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

He simply sighed at you, “Well, all I know is I’d let you fight your own battles. If you were my lost girl I’d make sure you could fight, not hide you away from the world.”

You frowned at him, “I’m not a lost girl Pan.”

He chuckled at you and quirked an eyebrow, “Then what are you? The Captain’s girl? The maid? Damsel in distress?”

You glared at him, “No, I’m my own person.”

He laughed again. His green eyes sparkling, practically mocking you. Anger bubbled up inside you and you drew your arm back and landed a punch in his face. He got quiet and looked to you, he touch the corner of his mouth and smirked, “You’ve got fire, I like fire.” With that the two of you started to fight. He threw a punch, you ducked and swiped at his legs. He grabbed your arm and spun you, but you twisted it back and kneed him in the stomach. Back and forth the two of you went until he had you pinned to the ground, and you were both out of breath. He smirked at you and you felt like laughing, you had never felt so free, never had so much fun. He quirked his eyebrow again, “So, want to be my lost girl?”

You shrugged as a smile pulled at your lips, “I guess. As long as you don’t make me do the dishes or cook. I’m a horrible cook.”

He stood up and let out a laugh, “Alright deal.” He pulled you up and poofed you back into camp.

There you stood at the top of a hill looking over the battle that was happening. Everyone stopped and stared at the two of you. Hook stormed forward, “Y/N! I told you to stay away. Pan! Get away from her!”

You rolled your eyes and Peter smirked at the angry Captain, “Sorry Hook, but Y/N is a lost girl now.”


Hook growled and looked at you, “No she’s not. She’s mine.”

You shook your head, “Sorry Killian, but I’m no ones. And I’m certainly not going back with you.”

He looked at you in disbelief and betrayal, “But I thought you loved me.”

You sighed, “I did, but you didn’t love me. You loved the damsel in distress, and I can’t pretend to be her anymore.”

Peter wrapped his arm around your shoulders and looked down at Hook, “And now she’s a lost girl. Now do me a favor Hook, and get out of my camp.”

With that the boys started fighting the pirates and they all eventually retreated. The last one to go was Hook, and before he left he looked at you with heartbreak in his eyes. With a shake of his head he turned around and ran back to his ship.

The boys cheered as he left and Pan grabbed onto your hand, raising it into the air he yelled out, “Boys, meet Y/N. Our new lost girl.” He looked down to you and smirked. A grin covered your face as the boys surrounded you all cheering. You started hollering with them, joy filling you as you all started to celebrate and dance around the fire.


Note: Hope you like it!

No More Running

Originally posted by kidsebbystan

Based on Anonymous Prompt: Can I request a bucky imagine where it begins with the reader, Bucky, and Steve on the helicarrier scene from Winter Soldier, and she was a childhood friend of the two who was frozen with Steve, and was in love with him but never said anything? And then later on she and steve are looking for him but she gets attacked by hydra one night alone and bucky saves her and they recover together? Lots of angst and fluff? Thank you so much! I loved your first fic!

A/N: I’m so sorry this took FOREVER.  I’m a little busy because I’m doing pre-production on my film (which I start shooting at the end of the month.  AAAH!!), but I’m going to try to post a little bit more often.  Thank you all for the amazing response to my first fic!  Hope this one is just as good!

-

You stare at him, frozen.  The first time you’ve been this close to him in…almost 70 years.

“Bucky?” you ask as Steve walks toward you, his head heavy.  But you know.  You don’t need to ask.

Steve just shakes his head.  You want to cry, sob, scream, curse, fight.  You resist the urge to pick up a chair and throw it across the room. You bite your lip so hard you draw blood, as the tears pooling in your eyes spill out.

“Bucky?” you ask, staring at a man that you had thought you would never see again.  His eyes meet yours and you feel your heart constrict, because it’s like you’ve lost him all over again.  He’s looking at you, but he doesn’t know you.

“There’s not enough time,” you hear Steve say.  You sit at the controls of the Hydra plane, slowly tilting it down toward the water.  You hear Steve speaking with Peggy and your heart breaks.  

For the first time, you actually feel grateful that you’re not leaving the love of your life behind. With any luck, you’ll be joining him.

Then he lunges for you and you’re fighting for your life.  You do your best to deflect his blows, but you can’t bring yourself to hit him.  

Over his shoulder, you see Steve, stumbling towards the final controller chip.  Your job was to keep Bucky occupied while he brought the final helicarrier offline, but you hadn’t realized how hard it would be.

Suddenly, he’s got his hands around your neck and you’re finding it harder and harder to breathe.  You realize your hands are free and you could reach the gun holstered at your hip.  You could end this right now.

But that will never be an option for you.  Because you’re with him ‘til the end of the line.

“Bucky,” you choke.  His eyes are cold, unfeeling, and your heart aches for a time when his eyes used to smile at you.  “James.”  You see the tiniest hint of recognition in his eyes and the grip on your throat loosens a fraction.  And you allow yourself to hope.

“James,” you whisper.  “That’s your name.  James Buchanan Barnes.  You were born on March 10th, 1917.  We were best friends, you, me and Steve.”  He shakes his head and his grip tightens again.  You let out a little gasp, but keep going.

“Brooklyn,” you say, each word its own battle to make it out of your mouth.  “Growing up.  The three of us.  Best friends.  Then the war.  107th.  Howling Commandos.  Captain America.  The train.  The bridge.  You fell.  Hydra.  They took you.  Hurt.  Metal arm.”

Bucky looks down at his arm, as if starting to wonder whether or not your story is real.  You keep going.

“Brainwashed,” you choke.  “Cold.  Winter Soldier.  Missions.  Kill.  Wiped.  Forget.”  Your sentences start to get less coherent as dark spots dance at the edge of your vision.  You don’t know how much longer you have left.

“Mission.  Nick Fury,” you press on, determined to make him remember or die trying.  “Steve.  Fight.  S.H.I.E.L.D.  Insight.  Carrier.  Help.”  It won’t be long, and you decide to throw all caution to the wind.  With painstaking effort, you lift your hands and use them to cover Bucky’s, as your lips form the words you had never said to him before.

“I love you,” you whisper and you feel a quiet sense of peace come over you.  Because it was true.  It is true.  You had always been in love with him, but you could never work up the courage to say it, not even when he was about to leave to fight.  Not even after you thought you had lost him, the first time, and then Steve had brought him back.  Not even after you lost him, the second time.  Not even to yourself.

Your eyes close and you’re not sure whether or not you’re dead.  You could swear that grip around your throat disappears, that you feel yourself falling through the air, that you feel like you’re being pulled by a current down a river.  But the only thing you know, the only thing you can see, is darkness.

-

You wake up and find yourself on a river bank.  It’s quiet, but in the distance, you can see the downed helicarriers, slowly sinking into the water.  You smile, ignoring the aching that seems to cover your body.  You did it.

You turn your head slightly, doing your best not to move your neck too much and spot Steve, his eyes closed.  You hold your breath, praying that he’s alive.  You drag yourself over to him, placing your ear over his heart.

You let out a sigh of relief as you hear a faint, but steady thumping.  You allow yourself to rest, taking care not to hurt either one of you.  

Steve’s eyes flutter open.  As soon as he sees you, he lets out a small sigh of relief.

“You’re alive,” he says and you nod, not sure if you can speak.  “Are you hurt?” You point to your throat.  “Can you talk?”

“Maybe?” your voice is weak and raspy and you wince at the sound, and at the burning sensation that accompanies your words.  “Bucky.”

“I saw,” he says.  “You could’ve…”  He looks down at your gun, and the two of you exchange a look.

“No, I couldn’t have,” you reply firmly and he nods, a grateful smile on his lips.

“I know,” he says simply.  

“I love him,” you whisper simply, and Steve’s smile grows a little bigger.

“Took you long enough to figure it out,” he says, his eyes drifting shut again.  “More than half a century?”  With that, he passes out, and you wait, listening to the sirens growing closer and closer.

In the distance, you could swear that you see Bucky, watching you from between the trees.  But when you blink, he’s gone.

-

It’s been a few months now since you took Project Insight down.  A few months since you last saw Bucky.

You and Steve have both been searching for him, with no success, but you aren’t really surprised.  He doesn’t want to be found.

The two of you are on a mission, clearing out an abandoned Hydra base.  Neither of you really have your heart in it––you’d rather be searching for Bucky.  But this sort of thing is routine and necessary, and probably good for you, because otherwise you’d go insane.  

You’re sweeping the final level of the base when a bullet grazes your shoulder.  You hiss in pain and whirl around to find yourself face to face with a dozen Hydra fighters.

“Steve!” you shout into your comm.  “Ambush on the lowest level!  I need some backup!”

“Wha…come in…comms…” Steve’s voice fades in and out with bursts of static.  You shake your head and turn your comm off.  You’re on your own.

They come at you, all at once, and you know you’re hopelessly outmatched.  Every time you take one out, two more fighters seem to take the fallen one’s place.  Damn Hydra for living up to its name.

You put up a good fight, determined to try and outlast them until Steve figures out where you are.  But you can feel the blood trickling down your shoulder and onto your arm, sapping your strength.

Someone comes at you from behind and you fall to your knees.  Suddenly, you have a knife at your throat and you can feel the leader of the group breathing down your neck.

“Call the Captain down here,” he demands harshly, motioning for some of the soldiers to go wait by the door.

“No,” you reply.  He nods at one of the men, who pulls out a gun and shoots you in the leg.  You bite your lip fiercely, determined not to give them the satisfaction of hearing you scream.

“Let’s try this again,” he says, pulling the knife tighter and drawing blood. “You will call the Captain down here.”

“My comm is down,” you reply.  “And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t do it.”

BANG!  Another shot, this time, aimed at your stomach.  You wince again, unable to hold back the whimper of pain.  You twist so that you can just see the man holding you.  

“Go to hell,” you snarl as you feel the blood pooling in your mouth.  He opens his mouth to say something, but he never gets the words out.  You look down and see a knife protruding through his chest.  He falls to the ground and you find yourself face to face with Bucky.

“Bucky,” you breathe.  He grabs your shoulder and you yelp in pain.  He looks down at you, seeing the full extent of your wounds.  The look that crosses his face is one of pure anger.  He turns away from you and takes out the Hydra fighters advancing towards him.

You slump to the ground, no longer able to support yourself.  After a few seconds of gunfire, everything’s quiet.  

Bucky hurries back over to your side.  All traces of anger are gone from his face, replaced by a look of worry that he had typically reserved for Steve.

“(Y/N),” he said, his voice tight.  “Can you hear me?”

“You remember me?” you say, your voice quiet.  

“Of course I do, doll,” he says and you see the hint of a smile on his face.  And in spite of everything, you can’t help but smile, because maybe you can get Bucky back.  The old Bucky.  

“(Y/N), I need you to stay awake for me, okay?” he says and you nod.

“Trust me, Bucky, I’m not going anywhere,” you say and he nods.  

“Good,” he says.  You look down and see bullet holes riddling his armor.  Two have made it through and you see faint red stains trickling down.

“Bucky, you’re hurt,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says.  “You’re the one I’m worried about.”  You take his hand, the metal one.  At first, he recoils, but you take it insistently, and eventually, he lets you.

“How did you find me?” you ask.

“Every time you go on a mission,” he says slowly.  “Every time you’re in danger.  Every time you could be in danger…I’ve always been there.  Just in case.”

“Why?” you ask, trying to keep the hope out of your voice.

“For the same reason that you wouldn’t shoot me on the helicarrier,” he says, his eyes soft.  “Because I love you, (Y/N).”  

“Bucky,” you say, your voice quiet but firm as you tangle your fingers with his.  “You have to promise me…you won’t leave me.”

“Of course,” he says instantly.

“No more running,” you demand and he nods.

“No more running,” he repeats.  A promise.  A promise he intends to keep.

“New York City Serenade” - missing scene fic

Ever since I first saw that episode, I’ve entertained myself by thinking about how a guy landed on this planet in the morning and by dinner-time knew about the Central Park Zoo. Yesterday I took a break from the novel, and I really wanted a break from angst-fic, so I finally wrote this out. (Merci beaucoup to @wingedlioness for the read-over; any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.)


Emma had a damnably accurate knee. Once his life finished flashing before his eyes, Killian straightened up and considered his next move.

The bean had deposited him at Emma’s door. The hall stretched in two directions, broken at regular intervals by doors – this was one of those warren-like buildings such as Baelfire had dwelt in. Most importantly, the place was quite devoid of cover. He could not afford to spend time ruing the ineffective kiss. He would have to convince Emma to take the memory potion somehow, and soon.

A bright autumn morning awaited outside, crisp and cool. New York had several advantages over cities he had known in the Enchanted Forest – lack of sewage in the streets for one, and their orderly layout made getting lost impossible. The crowds were thick and busy, and barely paused to consider one oddly-dressed stranger.

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I’m a senior in high school. For senior english, we have to write a personal essay about something that’s shaped who we are. I wrote mine about having ADHD. It’s really long (12 pages), so I get it if TL;DR comes into effect, but I thought I’d submit it anyway, since a lot of people who don’t have ADHD have said that this really helped them understand it a bit and, I don’t know, it could be useful or interesting or at least familiar.

All names and identifying details have been changed.

[Added a cut as it is very long.]

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