#(maybe when I don't have other Real assignments to do lol)

[galaxywannabe]

The Miscommunication Trope™

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: After getting into the first real argument of your relationship, some misspoken words from Bucky leave you thinking that he's done. By the time he realizes just how badly he screwed up, will it be too late to correct his mistake?

Warnings: Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Miscommunication; Crying; Arguing between romantic partners; Bucky is mean but he makes up for it; Happy ending; Reader identifies as a woman and uses she/her pronouns, but other than having hair that can be swept behind an ear I don't think there are any other physical descriptors; Please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: Almost 9.3k.....I'm sorry lol

A/N: Ummm....so. I'm fairly certain I promised this fic, like...3 months ago? In fact, I actually just went back to look and I first teased this fic on Febuary 19th, so um...lol? I made it! Listen, idk if it's even any good anymore but if I look at it for another second I'll scream, so please take it off my hands. Any and all comments or reblogs would be SO appreciated because this has truly been a labor of love, I didn't know if I had it in me. Also!! I have not forgotten @buckyinmyuniverse - you asked to be tagged in this wayyyy back when I first posted about it and I have FANTASTIC news for you babe: The wait is finally over!! I know you've no doubt been refreshing your feed for months looking for it (/j) but this whole time I was cooking this thing I remembered you asking for a tag. So, this one goes out to you. Hope you all enjoy! <3

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You and Bucky hadn’t ever been in a fight before, not really. You bicker, sure, usually over something lighthearted, usually resulting in an eyeroll and a “whatever you say, honey,” from Buck, but nothing serious, nothing that can’t be worked out through a civilized conversation. That was, until today.

You weren’t even trying to start an argument, you were just expressing your concern. He works too much, he takes more missions than anyone else, and it’s running him ragged, anybody can see that.

Obviously, you miss him when he’s away, but that’s not even the point - the point is that he’s taking on too much because he thinks he owes the world something, and that’s not sustainable, it’s not good for him. All you said was that maybe he’d ought to ask Fury to take him off the rotation for a while, or even just cut down on his assignment load, to give him some room to breathe. And Bucky got…defensive.

Obviously, you knew that was a possibility. Typical male pride of course prohibits silly ideas like “self care” and “burnout,” but on top of that is Bucky’s specific brand of guilt, the kind that makes him work himself into the ground no matter how badly his brain and body beg him to stop.

The defensiveness you were prepared for, but you were only coming from a place of love, your concern that of a devoted girlfriend, and surely he’d understand that, wouldn’t he? Except he hadn’t. He’d immediately dismissed your suggestion, waving a hand and continuing to type up his latest mission report with a laser-like focus. 

“I don’t need a break, I’m fine,” he’d muttered, eyes trained on the bluish light of his laptop screen.

Again, you weren’t trying to argue. You certainly weren’t going to  force him to take a break, you just wanted him to at least consider it, to remind him that it would be okay for him to rest a little, if he wanted to. The world would go on without his help for a few weeks, and there were other heroes available besides him. 

“Honey, I know you might not need one, but it’s okay if you just want one. No one would judge you if-”

And then he did something he’d never done before: he snapped at you. He didn’t even look up from his screen, his fingers still a steady staccato on the keyboard as he barked out harshly.

“I said I don’t need a fucking break. I’m just doing my goddamn job, and I don’t need you breathing down my neck watching my every move the whole time I do it. I can take care of myself.”

You winced. Obviously, that stung, and if he’d bothered to look up from his computer screen, he might have seen that on your face. But you could tell he wasn’t as unbothered by this conversation as he was acting.

Despite his brusque attitude, your words were striking a chord with him, hitting a little too close to home. His shoulders were stiff as a board, bunched up around his ears in a telltale sign of defensiveness, and you understood, really you did.

For Bucky, doing this job is the one way he can even attempt to atone for all the bad shit he’s done. Of course he felt uncomfortable with the idea of a break, he thinks he has to do these missions as some sort of self-imposed penance for the things he’d been made to do as the Winter Soldier. 

So you didn’t judge him too harshly for lashing out. You understood the reason he worked so hard, and you knew what motivated him to continue going out there even when he was exhausted. You just wanted him to see that taking a break for his own mental health wasn’t a bad thing, that even if he was making amends he still needed to find time to take care of himself, too.

You took a deep breath and spoke in a calm voice, hoping to express your concern in a nonthreatening manner even as he still refused to look at you. 

“Angel. I’m not trying to breathe down your neck or tell you how to do your job. I know it’s important to you, and I love how hard you work! It’s just that, super-soldier or not, if you want to continue to do this job, you’re gonna need to stop and rest at some point, honey. That’s all I’m trying to say. I’m worried about you, love.”

Finally, he looked up at you, and your heart fluttered just seeing those baby blues you love so much. Until you clocked the scowl on his pretty face, and the hope in your gut curdled to dread. He was angry, you knew what that looked like, but in the six months of your relationship so far you’d never once seen that anger directed at you before.

It wasn’t frightening in a physical sense, not like you were scared for your well-being, of course not. But it deeply unsettled you, seeing the man you love looking at you like that. It made you want to apologize, though you weren’t quite sure what for. Before you could do anything at all, he spoke, his voice a cold, steel edge.

“You don’t know anything about what I can handle. I was doing just fine before you came around, and I don’t need you fussing over me at every turn just because I don’t sit around here all day scrolling on my phone or whatever it is you think I should be doing. I don’t need or want your hovering, so just stop, okay?”

There was silence. His shoulders heaved in the wake of his outburst, and you felt almost dazed, like this was some kind of mirage you could will away if you blinked hard enough. He’d never spoken to you like that.

Obviously, you’d hit a nerve, and while logically you understood that, it didn’t lessen the pain in your chest. You were just worried about him, why was he fighting like you were trying to strap him down and force him to quit?

While you tried to regain your bearings, breathing deeply and forcing back the stinging you felt building in your eyes, he slammed his laptop shut, standing and stalking towards your bedroom door. He’d come over to your place to work on his mission reports at your insistence because you’d wanted to keep him company, and now it appeared he was leaving.

“W-where are you going, what are you doing?” you’d squeaked, alarmed, following after him as he made his way to the foyer of your apartment and shoved his feet into his boots.

“I can’t fucking do this, I'm done,” he’d muttered in a gruff, hard voice, lacing his boots efficiently and standing back to his full height as he reached for the doorknob.

You shook your head, panicked, reaching for his arm and trying futilely to drag him back into your apartment. “Baby, please. I’m sorry, don’t go.”

But he just shook off your hold and stalked out the door, leaving you there as your eyes blurred with tears. After standing there in your foyer for several minutes, waiting for him to turn around and come back, you’d simply fallen to your knees and curled up right there on the polished wooden floor, bawling your eyes out.

That’s where you still are a couple hours later when your phone starts to vibrate incessantly in your pocket. You pull it out with trembling fingers and swipe to answer a call from Natasha.

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“H-hello?” you croak into the receiver.

The second Nat hears you pick up the call she’s talking, looking distractedly through her closet as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

“Hey honey, listen, me and the girls were thinking about running to Target, and we wanted to- wait, what’s wrong?” Natasha’s cheerful voice quickly drops into something soft and concerned as she picks up on the sniffles coming through her tinny cell phone speakers.

For a few seconds all she can hear is you sobbing quietly, the way you struggle to slow your hysterical breathing so you can put together a sentence. “H-he left, Nat. He broke up with me,” you whimper, voice barely audible. 

This stops Natasha in her tracks, her brow furrowed in deep confusion as she freezes with one hand reaching for her favorite sweater. What the fuck? Why in the hell would Barnes break up with you? Especially when she knows for a fact that on the last mission she had with him, he stopped into a jewelry shop in Germany ‘just to look’ at engagement rings? This doesn’t make any goddamn sense.

“Honey,” Nat speaks into the phone again, her voice soft and soothing even through the crackly audio coming from your cell phone. “What happened, what did he say?”

You sniffle again, and clear your throat so she can hear your scratchy voice a bit better. “We…there was a fight, a-and I didn’t mean to, Nat, I swear, I was just worried, but…he said he can’t do this anymore, that h-he's done, and then he left. He didn’t take any of his things with him, but maybe he’s gonna come back for them, I don’t know…I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Nat…” As your sentence tapers off, your voice fades out, and a few renewed sobs float over the phone call into Nat’s ear, the sounds soaked in agony.

Oh, okay. Nat thinks she can see what really happened here just from your description, but that doesn’t make the sounds of your misery in her ear any less painful to hear. Likely, when Bucky had said he couldn’t do “this” anymore, that he was done, he’d meant the argument, the conversation, not your relationship.

But Barnes is your first real boyfriend, and you’ve never had a fight with him before. You were probably so confused and upset in the moment that you weren’t thinking about the context of his statement.

All you knew was that Bucky got upset with you for the very first time, and then he left. To you, that must certainly look like a breakup, and when Nat thinks about it from your perspective, she understands how you’d come to that conclusion.

She’d love to explain to you how you may have misunderstood, but as she listens to your hoarse crying over speakerphone, she knows you’re not in the frame of mind to process rational thought right now. Instead, she decides to focus on soothing you for the moment.

“I’m sorry, honey, I don’t know why he’d ever do anything like that to you. I’m gonna get to the bottom of it, alright? In the meantime, I just need you to do something for me,” she coos, her voice comforting and warm.

You don’t answer, just sniffling occasionally as you sit there in silence. Natasha, interpreting your lack of response as an affirmation, continues on.

“Where are you right now?”

There’s more silence for a few seconds, the sound of you pulling deep breaths into your lungs as you regain awareness of your surroundings. Then:

“Uh. The floor. In my apartment,” you mumble, confused, like you’ve just now realized that fact.

Natasha feels an additional lash of anger at Barnes flood her system when you tell her that, but she works to keep her voice calm even has her knuckles go white around her device.

“Okay, well, I need you to get up off the floor and go to your bedroom, okay? I want you to get dressed in your comfiest pajamas and crawl into bed for me, and wait there while I handle this. Can you do that? Just close your eyes and try to rest while I figure everything out?”

More sniffles, a hoarse cough, and then, after a beat of silence, your voice crackles over the line.

“Yeah….okay. I can do that, Nat,” you croak, the sound of shuffling floating over the line as you stagger to your feet after who knows how long on the floor.

She smiles, relieved to hear your voice coming through a bit more calmly, even as her mind races with the next items on her to-do list. “Okay sweetheart, you do that, then. I love you, I’ll call back soon, okay? Go get some rest.”

After hanging up with you, confident that at least you’re not curled up on your apartment floor anymore, she pockets her cell and immediately stalks down the hall towards the elevator, Target trip long forgotten.

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Bucky knows he fucked up. As someone who fucks up just about everything, he’s intimately familiar with the process, and he can say, with 100% certainty, that in this instance he absolutely fucked up. He never should have snapped at you - his sweetheart, his girl. You were just worried about him, and of course you were.

Bucky knows damn well he works too hard, especially lately, and he’s been on the verge of physical and mental collapse pretty much every damn day for the past month, running himself into the ground. He’d even been thinking to himself before your argument that he should slow down, take a break before he gets himself killed. So why did he get so defensive when you’d suggested it?

He doesn’t goddamn know. Because he’s messed up. Because it’s one thing when he decides to take some time off, but another when someone else has the idea, like they think he needs it.

He can’t help it; for decades of his life, the slightest sign of weakness meant pain, meant the frigid blast of a firehouse to wake him up or the wandering scalpel of a Hydra doctor looking to find a defect. Not that that makes his outburst okay, by any means, but it’s an explanation, and hey, he’s working on it, really he is. 

Still, he knew the second he walked out of your apartment that he’d fucked up, and so he’s spent the past two hours at his own place a few floors up, licking his wounds and gathering the courage to go apologize.

Because��yes, okay, he’s embarrassed by the way he acted. He’s ashamed of his own behavior, and he’d needed a minute to feel sorry for himself before he inevitably goes back down to your apartment and grovels for your forgiveness. 

He figures you’re pissed beyond belief, and if giving you some time to cool off also gives him a little while to stall the complete destruction of his ego, well, then, he’ll take it.

He finished up his mission report, he took a shower, and now he’s preparing his apology speech, debating the merit of walking down the street to a bodega for some flowers, when his doorbell rings. Shit, maybe he’s already out of time and you decided to come to him. 

When he opens his door, looking thoroughly contrite, it’s not your expected figure that stands in his entryway, but Natasha’s. And even given all his super-soldier reflexes and military training, he still staggers back a step in shock when she slaps him right across the face. 

“Whoa, what the fuck, Nat?” he barks, rubbing at the heat blooming under the skin of this cheek.

Standing there in front of him with her arms crossed, she looks anything but remorseful, her fists clenched as if she has to deny herself the urge to do it again.

“Why the fuck did you break up with her, Barnes? Are you insane?! The one good thing in your life, and you threw it all away, why, because you got a little pissed off? Out of all the stupid, careless decisions you’ve made in your fucked-up life, I really didn’t think you had it in you to top all that, but Jesus…”

As she continues to rant at him, her face pinched with rage, Bucky struggles to make sense of the words she’s already spoken. Broken up with you? Why in God’s name would he ever do that?

What an absolutely absurd thing to accuse him of, given that everybody in this building knows how insanely in love with you he is, especially your own best friend. Why is she here playing some kind of prank on him when he’s supposed to be rehearsing his apology?

“I did no such thing,” he answers bluntly, interrupting her impassioned speech, his expression confused and a little irritated at the accusation.

Nat barely even blinks at this denial. “Oh really? Then why did I just talk to her on the phone, bawling her eyes out on the floor of her apartment, telling me that you did?”

Of course, Nat’s pretty sure that Barnes hadn’t really meant to break up with you by leaving during your argument, but she’s pissed at him either way for not being cognizant enough of your feelings to foresee your interpretation of his behavior.

To Bucky, Natasha’s words might as well have been a bucket of ice water poured over his head, the way they immediately freeze his joints with dread. He feels his stomach churn as if he might be sick, the horrifying mental image of you curled up on your wooden floors driving a stake between his ribs. When he’d left, you’d been standing. Sure, you’d looked upset, but surely not that upset…right? 

He tries to think back to your emotional state when he’d stormed out a couple of hours ago, but truthfully he hadn’t turned back to see your face as he’d walked out your door. Had you been crying? He didn’t think so, but now he isn’t so sure, especially given the look of anger on Nat’s face. Why would you tell her that he’d broken up with you? As a joke, some kind of payback for his outburst?

“I….” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. “You talked to her? What did she say?”

Natasha almost feels sympathy for Bucky in this moment, standing before her looking so confused and slightly horrified. But then she thinks about her best friend sobbing on the floor because he’s an idiot, and that emotion vanishes, replaced with her plentiful anger.

“Well, it was kind of hard to hear her, what with all the sobbing and such. But when I finally was able to get her to speak, she said that there was a fight, and that you broke up with her and then left her there. She said you hadn’t taken any of your stuff with you when you left, and she wasn’t sure when you’d be back for it, but that she didn’t know what she was going to do,” Nat recalls in a hard voice, her gaze sharp and accusatory. “After that she started crying again, so I didn’t ask her any more questions.”

Another bruising blow to the tatters of Bucky Barnes’s heart. What did you mean, he hadn’t taken his stuff? Why would he take his things when he’d left them there on purpose so he had them to use when he was at your place?

Why would he take his belongings out of your apartment just because you got into an argument? This doesn’t make any sense, and the longer Natasha talks, the worse his growing sense of unease becomes. 

Why were you crying? Sure, he expected anger, he’d been a huge swinging dick and he deserves some harsh words. But why is Nat saying that you were curled up on your floor sobbing? Why wouldn’t you be on the couch, or in your bed, or even down in the gym punching out your frustrations? 

And why were you on the phone with your best friend moments ago talking like you didn’t expect him to come back? Surely you know he’ll be back, he practically lives in your apartment - his wallet and keys are still sitting in the dish by your front door, his favorite jacket hung on the coat rack. He looks at your closest friend desperately, his face drawn in stark lines of horror and regret.

“Natasha, please, I don’t know why she said all that stuff to you, I didn’t break up with her, I would never break up with her. We had an argument. She was only worried about me, but I got defensive like an asshole and said some shit I didn’t mean, so…I just wanted to get out of there, get some space before I lashed out some more, that’s all. I just needed a minute to cool off, I was always fully planning to go back, to explain myself and apologize. I don’t know why she…” he trails off, looking lost.

Nat sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her best friend is in hysterics, and it’s all because men are the dumbest creatures on this planet.

“What do you think that looked like to her, Barnes? You guys get in your very first fight, and after saying some mean shit to her you stomp out of there and go ‘I can’t do this, I'm done’. What do you think those words might have sounded like to her ears? You’re her first serious boyfriend, jackass! She’s never been in this situation before! She doesn’t know that it’s relatively normal for couples to argue, even if you definitely shouldn’t have snapped at her. She just knows you’ve never fought before, and the first time you do, you walk out the door. She thinks you’re gone for good, James.”

You could hear a pin drop in Bucky’s apartment right now, the sounds of bustling Manhattan outside his windows muffled by the blood roaring in his ears. He wants to be upset with you, to question how you could ever doubt his love enough to think he’d really just walk out after one disagreement. But in truth, given his actions and your lack of relationship experience, he doesn’t see how you could’ve come to any other conclusion. 

Bucky thought he’d been regretful before Nat got here, but after hearing his behavior described in this new light, he’s got a whole list of emotions to add to the pile. Self-loathing, remorse, fear. You’re in your apartment right now, believing yourself to be single. All that time you two spent together, every memory and intimate moment, you think it’s over, just like that, in the blink of an eye. 

Obviously, he needs to explain himself immediately, to tell you that he hadn’t meant to end your relationship in the slightest and that this is all just a giant misunderstanding.

But what if you don’t care? What if, after the way he acted towards you today, you’d rather accept his words as you’d thought he meant them and stay broken up, even knowing that wasn’t his intent? He’s shaking, he realizes distantly, noticing the way Natasha looks at him with concern in her eyes now.

He hadn’t ever really let himself consider that you’d turn him down before, when he was rehearsing his apology speech. You’re in a committed relationship of six months, you’re in love. Surely, even if he was a bit of an asshole, one transgression can be forgiven as long as he apologizes sincerely.

But that was back when he thought his only sin was his harsh words, back when he thought you were angry with him for his outburst.

Now that he knows what you’ve really been feeling, that you’ve apparently spent the past two hours sobbing on your wooden apartment floors waiting for him to come back and take his belongings, he’s not so confident that he can grovel hard enough to make up for this.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you, god damn it, that’s the whole reason he left in the first place, to spare you from his undeserved anger. Now he might be about to lose you because of his own childish temper tantrum, and the terror of that thought feels icy in his veins as it travels straight to his heart, freezing it in place. 

His body is moving towards his apartment door before he even commands his muscles to do so, single-minded on the only thing that matters anymore: fixing what he’s done. His hand is already turning the doorknob by the time a slightly startled Nat is able to catch up with him, her hand on his shoulder stalling him for only the tiniest moment before he’s barrelling ahead again.

“Don’t fuck this up. You love her, now go make it right,” she commands sternly, and Bucky just grunts his acknowledgment before bursting through his door out into the empty hallway, towards the elevator.

He doesn’t stop to voice his fears to Natasha, that it might be too late to make anything right, that he may have fucked it up beyond repair already. He just keeps moving, hoping beyond hope that he still has a chance.

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When he makes it to your apartment a few floors down from his own, it’s eerily silent as he pushes the door open. He’s never needed a key, FRIDAY has explicit orders to grant him entry, but for the first time ever it feels wrong entering your space unannounced, like maybe he should knock and wait for permission in light of what’s happened. He ignores the impulse. 

You’re not crouched on the floor of your entryway like Nat said you’d been, so he supposes that’s a good sign, but it occurs to him then that he’s not even entirely sure you’re home. Bucky pauses to ask FRIDAY where you are, and is relieved to hear that you’re only in your bedroom.

He almost thinks he picks up a hint of annoyance in the AI’s voice when she responds to his inquiry, though, as if even the damn computer program is pissed at him for the way he treated you. It must be his imagination.

“Angel?” he calls out softly, making his way slowly through the apartment to your bedroom, noting the oppressive stillness of the place as he goes deeper. “Honeybun? Sweet pea?” he uses his softest, most gentle voice, disturbed to find your usually lively dwelling so silent. 

The TV in the living room - usually playing some youtube video or episode of your favorite show - is powered off, and the lights are all off too, as if the sun had set and you simply hadn’t bothered to flick any of them on to combat the encroaching darkness. The place he’s wandering now is like a ghost of your apartment, no scented candles lit, no steaming mug of tea waiting for you at your usual spot at the coffee table. 

It’s unnerving, to have a place usually so full of life be so startlingly empty all of a sudden. His slow steps and his soft voice calling out for you are the only sounds in the entire space, until he finally reaches your bedroom door and pauses to listen. For a moment there’s nothing, and he worries that perhaps you aren’t home after all, until he hears a soft sound coming muffled through the thick wood of your door. 

He presses his ear against it to listen closer, brow scrunched as he waits to hear the sound again, and a moment later his heart shatters as it becomes clear that what he’s hearing is your soft sobbing, interspersed with the occasional sniffle.

Bucky pushes your door open ever-so-carefully, cursing under his breath at the slight squeak of the wood on its hinges. It’s hard to see anything in your room, even with his perfect super-soldier eyesight, as the lights are off in here, too, the curtains closed to limit even the soft moonlight coming through the windows. 

His instinct is to flick on the light so he can see you better, but he doesn’t want to startle you, and besides, you obviously prefer the lights off or you would’ve turned them on yourself when it got dark. Instead he just steps further into the room, squinting his eyes as he can just barely make out the lump under the covers where you lay, curled in a ball in the center of your mattress, crying quietly.

He knows you must have heard his entrance, must realize he’s standing at the side of your bed right now, but you make no move to acknowledge him, continuing to sob softly as he watches on, heartbroken.

“Oh, darlin’...” he sighs, pulling the covers back a bit to expose your head, kneeling with one knee on the mattress so he can get a closer look at you.

You sniffle pitifully as you feel the cool air of the room on your face, extra cold against your cheeks where they’re wet with tears. Your vision is too blurry for you to actually see him, but you know who it is, know the scent of his cologne and the familiar touch of his fingers on your face as he brushes your hair back to see you better. 

Your stupid, traitorous nervous system reacts immediately to his presence, your panicked breaths slowing and your tears subsiding, a warm wash of comfort moving through your chest along with an instinctive sense of safety.

Your body knows nothing of the events of the past few hours, that he isn’t yours anymore, that he isn’t here to comfort you. It just instinctively calms under his attention, unaware that it is fleeting now, sure to be gone in only moments.

As the man you love wipes the tears gently from your face, his touch so sweet and soft it inadvertently causes more of them to fall, you force your hoarse voice to speak, the sound a barely audible croak even in the silence of your room. “Are you here to get your things?”

Bucky’s own eyes sting at your words, at the miserable tone to your voice as you say them, and he shakes his head vehemently, though he’s not sure you’re even really seeing him right now.

“No, baby, of course not. Why would I take my stuff, huh? I left those things here so I could use them when I’m visiting my girl, you know that,” he counters in a painfully soft voice, like he thinks speaking above a murmur will shatter you. Maybe he’s right about that, you do feel awfully close to shattering.

You feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind your eyes, and you close them for a moment, struggling to craft a coherent thought through all the heartbreak clouding your brain. Why is he here speaking nonsense when you’re in the middle of trying to mourn him? Does he not see that it’s cruel for him to be here with his comforting touch and his sweet voice, knowing that those things are lost to you forever now? 

“I’m not your girl anymore…” you mumble brokenly, the very act of having to speak the words into existence pulling another sob from your chest. 

Despite yourself you nuzzle your cheek into his palm as he cradles your face, desperate for his affection. If you’re never going to feel his touch again, you’ll bask in every opportunity while you have it, savoring the familiar warmth even as you question why he’s offering it to you in the first place.

Your face is pinched in concentration, like you’re trying to commit the sensation to memory, and Bucky’s heart might as well be in shards by his feet at this point, the way you seek out his touch like you’re starved for it. Like it hasn’t only been hours since he last gave it to you, like you’ll never have the chance to feel it again.

“Yes you are, baby, you’re always gonna be my girl. You’re mine, honey, just like I’m yours. Forever, haven’t I told you that?” he speaks desperately, like he’s pleading with you to agree with him, and although you’d love to, you have very recent evidence to the contrary.

“B-but, you said…” you trail off in a whisper, unable to repeat the words. You don’t need to anyways, you both know what he’d said. That he can’t do this. Can’t be with you anymore.

Bucky’s quick to interrupt you, needing you to understand that that’s not what he’d said, or, at least, not what he’d meant. “Baby, I didn’t- I’m sorry I said it like that, and I understand why you took those words the way you did. But that’s not what I meant to say, sweetheart, I swear.”

He huffs and slides a frustrated hand through his hair, suddenly unable to bear having this conversation with you while you lie curled up alone in your bed, looking up at him blankly with your shining eyes.

Before you can speak another word he peels back the covers some more, making room for himself as he slides into the bed beside you, pulling you up and onto his chest so he can hold you in his arms. The tears on your cheeks immediately soak through the soft cotton of his T-shirt, but he doesn’t care, cradling you tightly against his chest and rubbing slow, comforting circles onto your back.

You want to say something, to express your confusion at his incongruent behavior, but you can’t, not with his arms around you and his scent in your nose. You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out are more shuddering sobs, your body limp in his hold, completely helpless against the comfort he offers.

Even if he shouldn’t be, he’s here. He’s here, and he’s holding you like you’re something precious again, and even if you know that there must be some mistake you can’t stop yourself from completely melting into his embrace, any semblance of your remaining composure crumbling completely.

Bucky just coos softly, murmuring gentle assurances in your ear and holding you, solid and steady as you weather the storm of your heartbreak. Despite having spent the better part of the past two hours bawling your eyes out, the crying starts anew with him here, his comforting presence both a relief and a reminder of what you’ve lost, what you’ll be missing when he walks out that door again.

You two lie like that for a while, though whether it’s for a few minutes or several hours you can’t say, time stretching into infinity as you cry into his chest. As the tears finally subside once again, your body exhausted and your throat sore, your mind belatedly registers his words from before. He’d been saying something, hadn’t he? 

“What…” your voice comes out scratchy, so you clear your throat to be heard better - though Bucky couldn’t have missed a word out of your mouth if he tried, focused on you as he is. “What do you mean, that’s not what you meant? You broke up with me.”

Bucky shakes his head immediately, bringing his mismatched palms up to cradle your face, sweeping your hair back behind your ears so he can see his beautiful girl. God, it’s torture watching you cry, but he seems to have broken through to you somehow, and he’s not going to squander this opportunity to explain himself.

He can’t suppress the urge to lean down and drop a tender kiss to your forehead, though, your tear-stained face so pitiful he could cry right along with you if he didn’t have something more important to be doing at the moment.

“I mean, that’s not what I meant, sweetheart. I never intended to break up with you. How could I? Leave my girl, my princess? Don’t you know you mean more to me than every other person on this planet put together?” He speaks calmly but firmly, his gaze steady on yours as he practically begs you to believe him. You have to believe him.

You frown, confusion pulling your brows together as you take in his desperate expression. His words make your heart flutter with hope, but you don’t understand, can’t make sense of the reality he’s trying to assert when you know you heard otherwise only a couple of hours ago. It’s all a bit much for your heartbroken brain to handle, and you just blink at him blankly, completely lost.

“I don’t understand, Buck. Y-you were so upset, and then you left, and you said ‘I can’t do this, I'm done.’ I thought you meant we were done, that you can’t do us anymore.” you recall in a miserable voice, searching his eyes for answers as you desperately try to understand.

He nods empathetically, his thumbs brushing at the tears on your cheeks even as more continue to fall to take their place. “I know that’s what I said, sweet girl, and I know how it sounded to you, but that’s not at all how I meant it, I swear. I just…” Bucky sighs, his features plastered with remorse, his eyes falling from yours in shame.

“I was being an asshole. I knew, even as I was doing it, that I was being an asshole, that I couldn’t stop being an asshole, so I just…I wanted to get away from you before I lashed out any more, that’s all. I knew if I kept trying to discuss things with you right then I was only going to say more shit I didn’t mean, so I tried to put some space between us, just until I could cool off and be rational again.”

Bucky pauses, sighing deeply and stroking your cheeks. His eyes are swimming with guilt so deep it hurts your chest just to look at it. He looks almost as torn up about this whole ordeal as you do, which, although his pain isn’t something you revel in, does make your heart beat a little faster with hope. Would a man who doesn’t want to be with you anymore still look at you with that much guilt over having caused you pain?

When he speaks again his voice is low and strained with emotion, apologetic. “Darlin’, I…I am so sorry for the things I said to you today. I didn’t mean a single damn one of them. I love that you look after me, I love that I have someone waiting for me when I come home, making sure I’m not pushing myself too hard. I need you there to do that for me, because we both know I’m too proud and stubborn to take a break on my own. I got defensive, and I lashed out because I felt threatened, and that is not okay or fair to you. If you can’t forgive me for those things I said, I understand.” 

He swallows thickly, his eyes closing as hot tears sting the backs of them, fighting to escape. “But you need to know that when I told you I couldn’t ‘do this,’ I sure as hell didn’t mean you, or us. All I meant was that I couldn’t keep having that conversation with you, that I needed to get away before I hurt you worse. That’s all it was. When I left your apartment today, it was to get some space because I knew I was throwing a temper tantrum. In no way, shape, or form was I breaking up with you, or trying to end what we have. I couldn’t do that, it’s not in my DNA to do that. I’m simply not capable of it, and you have to know that. Even if you decide you’re better off without me, I need you to know that. Please.”

You stare down at him in the wake of his speech, watching as he blinks rapidly to keep tears at bay, and you’re so god damn confused in this moment that you wish he would give you a timeout, let you process everything he just said before you have to respond to it.

Could it possibly be true? That he’d never meant to break up with you, that he still loves and wants you? Could this all just be some massive misunderstanding on your part?

The possibility has hope fluttering warm in your chest, but you suppress it. Better to make absolutely sure first, before you let your heart get obliterated for the second time today. Letting yourself have this hope only to quash it moments later might actually break you for good.

“You weren’t…I mean, you didn’t want to break up with me?” you whisper hesitantly, afraid to let yourself believe it even though you’re desperate to.

Bucky’s heart cracks in his chest as you ask that so timidly, like just voicing the question is opening you up to a whole new potential world of hurt. He shakes his head firmly, his metal hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull, his fingertips massaging your scalp gently.

“No, babygirl, never. Not in a million years. Even though we were arguing, it was the last thing on my mind, trust me. I’ve never wanted to break up with you, not for a second. I love you,” he reassures you smoothly, his voice low and calm, exuding certainty.

You have to sniffle hard to hold back a fresh round of tears at those three simple words, ones you never thought you’d get to hear from him again. Jesus Christ, if you never cry again it’ll be too soon. Your gaze is particularly frail and fragile as it meets Bucky’s, some of that hope you’d been suppressing earlier making itself known in your features, tentative but present.

“So…you’re still my boyfriend?” you ask in a tiny murmur, like maybe this is the part where he pulls the rug out from under you and announces he was kidding about the whole misunderstanding thing.

Bucky’s features tighten a little at your question, and dread pools in your stomach rapidly, fearing the worst. But his words aren’t quite the heartbreaking blow you’re expecting, more like a puzzling wrinkle.

“If you want me to be, yeah, baby, I am.”

Your brow furrows, confused. What the hell does that mean? Suddenly, you recall a few other parts of his speech just now, parts that had been immediately overshadowed when he’d said that he still wanted to be with you. Now that you think about it, he’d also said a bunch of stuff along the lines of ‘If you can forgive me,’ and ‘If you decide you’re better off without me,’ hadn’t he?

What the hell was that all about? Why’s he talking about whether you want to be with him? Like you haven’t been literally bawling your eyes out for the past two hours at the prospect of having to live without him? How does that make any sense?

“Of course I want you to be. You think I was curled up on the floor sobbing because I was happy to think that our relationship was over?” you ask incredulously, frowning at him. 

He chuckles a little at that, the sound vibrating through you as you lay on his chest, but it’s strained, his expression vulnerable. Although you attribute this misunderstanding mostly to your own mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion, Bucky is riddled with guilt for both his abrupt exit from your apartment and the things he’d said leading up to it.

In his eyes you went through a lot of pain today, and every inch of it is his fault. If he’d stopped to explain his meaning, or, hell, if he hadn’t gotten so damn defensive in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. His girl wouldn’t have spent hours of her life sobbing on her hardwood floors if he’d just stopped to breathe like his therapist taught him to. His pale irises swim with shame as he gazes up at you.

“No, no, I just…I said some horrible things to you today, darlin’. And just because you were upset to think that I’d broken up with you doesn’t necessarily mean that all is forgiven, I know that. I understand if you’d rather keep us apart after the way I acted,” he murmurs defeatedly, like he’s already prepared himself for a thorough scolding.

Which is absolutely goddamn ridiculous, in your eyes. You snort, brows raised in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? All is forgiven, Buck, all is so past forgiven. I don’t care about the shit you said. You’re here, you’re still mine, that’s all that matters now. Forget the fight, forget all of it. I’ve got you, that’s all I care about.”

You say it so simply, like it could be so easy. Like his indiscretions are just wiped clean in the face of your pure relief. But he knows that they aren’t, they can’t be. It’s not that easy, as much as he’d like it to be. He fucked up, and he deserves what’s coming to him.

He tries to reason with you, his expression pained. “Baby, you can’t just-” 

“I absolutely can, actually,” you interrupt, looking unamused, stern. “I’m the one you said those things to, so I think I have the right to determine how I feel about them, don’t you?” You keep your eyebrows raised, challenging.

You watch as he mulls those words over a bit, licking his lips anxiously. It takes him a moment to decide how to respond, and when he does his words are slow, strained. Like maybe he doesn’t want to say them, but he feels like he has to.

“Yes, you do. It’s ultimately your decision, of course it is. I just…before you decide to blindly forgive me for this, I want you to really consider how you feel, okay? I know your instinct is to forget all about it because you’re just relieved to have me at all right now, but…I messed up. I hurt you, I said hurtful things even if I didn’t mean them. You didn’t deserve that, least of all from me, the man who’s supposed to love and protect you. You’re allowed to be upset about it, and if my actions made you realize that you don’t want to be with me anymore, then…you’re allowed to feel that way, too.”

His voice cracks on that last word, and your heart aches painfully in your chest at the sound. In this moment, you’re realizing with horror that Bucky truly believes he deserves to be broken up with tonight. With the unshed tears clinging to his lashline and the devastated look on his face, it’s clear that he doesn’t want to be dumped, that in fact that’s the last thing he wants.

But it’s obviously what he thinks should happen, the punishment he thinks he’s earned for the inadvertent heartbreak he put you through tonight, and that’s just…unacceptable, to be honest. 

The man would forgive you if you literally drove a stake through his chest, for Christ’s sake, yet he’s expecting you to kick him to the curb? What, because he got a little snippy with you? Because you jumped to the wrong conclusion and convinced yourself he left you? You would almost be insulted that he could think such a thing of you if you didn't know where the fear comes from.

You've seen them firsthand: the deep layers of self-loathing that have bogged him down since long before your relationship started, the inherent belief he carries that he is irreparably flawed and unworthy of love. He doesn't feel like he deserves you on his best day, so when he screws up, no matter the size of the infraction, he expects to be cast aside.

You reach out with one hand to cradle his cheek, his stubble gently scraping against your thumb as you caress his skin. Your expression is caring but firm, your eyes holding his as you speak in an even voice.

“I need you to understand that I don't expect you to be perfect, James. I don’t expect that you will always say the right thing, or have a perfectly even temperament in every situation because hell, none of us do. You’re allowed to fuck up sometimes, sweetheart, and you still deserve to be loved even when you do.”

His brow furrows as you speak, his instinct to reflexively deny the forgiveness you’re offering. “But I hurt you,” he interjects, the look on his face so miserable it tugs at your chest.

You nod your agreement, though your expression is still full of compassion and love. “Yes, you did. I won’t even begin to address the break-up fiasco because that was a complete misunderstanding on my part, but yes, the things you said before you left really stung me. Do you know why I’m going to forgive you anyways, though? Why, even if this happens again, I’ll probably forgive you a hundred times over?”

You pause for effect, giving him the opportunity to respond. Honestly, as upset as you’ve been these past few hours, it’s all begun to fade in the face of this man you love trying to convince you he’s not worth it. When he just looks at you helplessly, his eyes tracking your speech with rapt attention, you smile and continue.

“It’s because I know you’d never hurt me on purpose, Bucky. Let me ask you something: when you snapped at me today, did you do it because you were trying to find the absolute meanest thing you could say at that moment? Did you say it because you wanted me to feel bad?”

Looking a bit startled at the suggestion, Bucky shakes his head mutely. He hadn’t really even been conscious of the words at all until after they’d already blurted from his mouth, and even then it didn’t fully sink in until after he’d calmed down. You smile, satisfied by his immediate denial. 

“No, of course you didn’t. You didn’t say that stuff to be mean, to hurt just for hurting’s sake. You were feeling ambushed and defensive, and you lashed out. Is it ideally how you’ll always react when I try to express my concern for your wellbeing? No, of course not. But is it a realistic thing for a person to do who’s not used to being cared for? Absolutely, it is. And it’s just something we’re gonna have to work on, baby. I’ve never done this whole relationship thing before, and you’re trying to do it for the first time in 80 years with a hell of a lot of additional trauma thrown into the mix. 

“We’re learning, and it’s not always gonna be perfect or easy. Maybe before this becomes an issue again, we’ll think up some ways for you to politely tell me ‘I’m feeling overwhelmed by this conversation, please back off and we can come back to it later.’ Or maybe we’ll discuss how I can voice my concerns to you in the future without triggering your defensive response, how I can come off as less accusatory and make the discussion feel more safe for you.

“We’ve only been doing this for six months, and as real as it is, as much as I love you more than anything, we’re gonna face a hell of a lot more than this one hurdle if we want to keep doing this thing in the long term. So, yeah, tonight has sucked, pretty much every minute of it was a disaster, but you know what? It’s over now. You apologized, we’re gonna try and do better next time, and…that’s the end of it. Clean slate. All I want to do with the rest of my night is finally stop fucking crying, and eat a burger the size of my head. Preferably, with my boyfriend next to me the whole time, trying to steal my fries when I’m not looking. Do you think you could help me make that happen, Buck? Please?”

He looks stunned in the wake of your speech, silent for several moments as his brain struggles to grapple with the reality of your easy forgiveness. He blinks at you hard, like he truly can’t believe that you’re not running in the opposite direction right now, burning every trace of your life together and cursing his name the whole way.

But the truth is, you’d already made up your mind to forgive him the second you realized he hadn’t meant to break up with you in the first place, and Bucky must see that, too, because the fight in his eyes is slowly dimming into something more fragile, vulnerable. 

His gaze fixes on yours in the dark, searching for some hidden shard of resentment or anger that you may be holding back for his sake, but he doesn’t find it, there is no such thing for him to find. You just smile weakly up at him, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day but no less sincere, and when he blows out a slow breath through his nose, you know you’ve got him.

He’s definitely not done badgering himself about the mistakes he made today, not by a long shot, but he must see your weariness on your face, your desperate need to move on from this at least for the moment, so he nods slowly, his flesh hand rising to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can make that happen. Whatever you want.”

Your smile brightens, the relief so stark in your features that it brings a lump to his throat, and when you press your lips against his he makes a silent promise to never put you in a position like this again, to never let his bullshit drag you down or put your relationship at risk like he did today.

He’ll go to therapy twice a damn week if he has to, you deserve better than his temper tantrums, than cruel words spoken out of a defensiveness he doesn’t need anymore. Not with you. 

Half an hour later finds you perched in his lap, draped in one of his hoodies and talking and laughing at your favorite diner like there never was an argument, like not a single tear was shed today. He hates that the joy on your face is most likely motivated by your sheer relief that he’s still yours, but he can’t complain about the sparkle in your eyes, nor the way you lean back against his chest as you sip your shake.

Obliging your request, he steals some fries off your plate while you gesticulate wildly through a story, a warm flutter going off in his chest when you pretend to squawk in protest. He soaks in every second, every twitch of your lips and brush of your hand against his, reminding himself what he could have lost, what he perhaps deserved to lose after his actions today. 

He’ll make this up to you, he knows he will - he’s sure Natasha will have plenty of suggestions for how he can start. He thinks back to that little velvet box he’s got buried deep in the back of his sock drawer, a sharp pull tugging at his heart as he realizes he almost lost his chance to give it to you at all. He resolves right here and now, basking in the warm light of your infinite patience for him, that he won’t take that box out until he’s earned it.

He hates to wait even a second longer, itches to lock you down with every passing moment, but he won’t ask you to make that kind of commitment to him until he’s sure he’s the man that you need him to be. As he presses a firm kiss to your temple, swiping another morsel from the edge of your plate with a smile, he swears up to his Ma that he will work hard to deserve you, even if you seem to think he already does.

[purinfelix]

i like me better when i'm with you - s. jake ᯓ★

💭₊˚⊹ to be young and in love in New York City

summary: the rooftop of your apartment seems like the only safe haven in your busy life as a New York college student - until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger introduces the possibility of something new ─────── college student reader x jake || not really a college au since he's a dropout lol, sorta angsty sorta just wholesome || w/c: 2.1k

a/n: aka i've been suffering through uni and exams and needed something self-indulgent to remind me there's more to life than readings and tutorials

Things moved fast in the city.

Subways screeched loudly through stations, people seemed to be pushing and bustling past you on the street in every direction - hell, even the rats scurried like they had some place to be. It was hectic, and keeping up with it had been something you'd learnt to deal with since moving to college.

Your workload didn't exactly make it much easier, though, since your to-do list soon became a never-ending carousel of tasks. Complete this assignment, finish this reading, and chase this classmate up on your group project. Your days sped past, and even though you tried to fill every possible second with productivity, you could never shake the feeling that you were falling behind.

Moving to a city like this, you'd think it would've been easy to make friends - and it was, at first. But keeping them seemed the real challenge as, with everything else, they came and went without so much as a care. You'd buddy up with someone for the semester, but only enough for you to have someone to sit next to in lectures or make small talk with in the halls. It never reached beyond that, though, and before you realised it, you were halfway through your second year without so much as a friend to call up for coffee.

It didn't matter, though, you had more than enough things to worry about without the childish concern of having friends. But still, in between missing subways, cramming for exams and struggling to fill your fridge with anything other than energy drinks, it could be a lot to handle alone.

And when it became too much, you'd often find yourself wearily climbing the fire escape of your apartment complex to reach the rooftop. From there, everything looked smaller, less significant, like it wasn't screaming in your face to "do this" and "be there". It was a little pocket of peace that you had managed to forge for yourself in between the worn-out beach chairs and dying plants that had clearly seen better days. And best of all, no one else was ever there to bother you.

At least, not until today.

The top of the stairs creaked with your weight as you pulled yourself up onto the rooftop. As you did, though, you paused, your foot hovering over the last step as you noticed a figure sitting a little in the distance. You might've expected a neighbour, one of the guys who worked in the nearby convenience stores, maybe even a stray cat if you were lucky.

What you weren't expecting was him. He sat on the edge, a daring act you'd not even considered doing, legs swinging calmly as the headphones hanging from around his neck leaked faint music that he nodded along to. His jacket looked worn-in from the rips and holes in it, though the several earrings decorating his lobes shone in the moonlight enough to catch your attention.

Your first reaction was to instantly retreat, but you soon proved unlucky enough to step a little too heavy to make a noise loud enough to catch his attention. His head whipped around almost instantly, though his expression stayed calm as he did, only slightly lifting an eyebrow in amusement.

"Hey," he calls out, and you feel a twist in your stomach once you realise you have no choice but to respond.

"Hi," you chuckle a little awkwardly, "I was just going-"

"No, it's okay, you can stay," he hums, seeing right through your obvious bluff, I mean, I don't own the place or anything."

You bite your bottom lip as you consider his offer, and the thought of your empty apartment, the desk littered with open textbooks and half-scribbled notes, is enough to accept it. Carefully, you pad your way over to him, not really knowing what to do with yourself since you'd never had company up here. You're considering walking over to your usual spot alone, but he doesn't seem to share the same sentiment.

"Didn't mean to steal your spot," came his voice, though he turned back to look out at the skyline as he spoke. "Didn't think anyone actually used this place."

"How'd you even get up here?" you ask.

He nods to the fire escape. "Same as you. Been coming up here at night recently."

"Why?"

He shrugs, calm and cool. "Why not?"

You don't answer, just move a little closer so that you're standing against the ledge beside him. From here, you can make out his features in the soft evening light. He looked about your age, with a soft, boyish energy to him that you could tell from how he spoke to you. As he nodded along to his own music, his dark hair fell over his profile, and as he brought up his hand to brush it away, you noticed several rings adorning it.

"Are you from this building?" His sudden question surprises you, forcing you to clear your throat awkwardly to hide the fact you were obviously staring at him.

"Yeah, the sixth floor." You say curtly, not even pausing to question why you willingly told a complete stranger that.

He nods, thoughtfully, but doesn't respond.

"How about you?" you press.

"Oh, well, my buddy just moved in on the second floor so I'm crashing at his."

There's a beat of awkward silence in which you both just nod in understanding, heads turning back out to the open skyline.

"Are you a student?" you ask before you can stop yourself.

He hangs his head, smirking to himself as if he knew the question was coming. "I was, dropped out a couple years ago."

You glance over. "Why?"

He shrugs, and it's so casual you almost don't notice the slight hurt hiding behind it. "Didn't really see the point in it, I guess. I've never really been good at all that school stuff, anyway."

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you try to match his laid-back tone. "Must be nice, not having to stress out about assignments and deadlines every second of the day."

He casts a sideways glance at you, the corner of his mouth tugging at an amused grin. "You say that like you don't have a choice."

"Well, that's sort of the point of college, is it not?"

"Maybe," he sighs, "or maybe you're just letting it eat you alive because you feel like you have to."

You scoff lightly, though it comes out more defensive than disagreeing. You don't want to admit it, but he's caught you off guard. You've grown so used to being praised for stressing yourself out, to being validated for the effort you were putting in. It always felt like it was your responsibility to be stressed, and this was the first time someone had challenged that.

The wind picks up slightly, brushing your hair across your face, and as it does you let out a sigh - one that feels like an unloading of days, weeks, months of stress.

You see his gaze flicker to yours, and for a minute it just washes over your face, almost as if he's studying you. Then he leans forward, patting the ledge beside him.

"Come sit," he says, his tone gentle, inviting.

You hesitate, eyes jumping between his and where he sits, his legs freely swinging above the empty air and you feel something in your stomach twist. "I'm good here," you say curtly.

"Scared of heights?"

"No," you blurt out a little too quickly. Then, quieter, "just, doesn't look safe."

His expression softens into something bordering on amused, and you're somewhat relieved that he's not judging your childish fear. "It's solid, you're not going to fall."

"That's not convincing."

"Even if you did, I'd catch you," he states - and you feel your heart flutter a little, not because you actually believe him, but because he sounds like he really means it. Still, you can't push yourself to move.

Strangely enough though, his smile only grows as he leans in, catching your eye with a playful glint in them. "Okay new offer: if you fall, I'll jump too."

That earns him a surprised laugh of disbelief. "That's probably the worst deal I've ever heard."

"Maybe," he says, leaning back, "but at least you'd have company on the way down."

You think for a second, chewing on your bottom lip as you study the ledge. Carefully, and as slowly as possible, you swing your legs over and edge ever so slightly until you're beside him. You clutch your hands together, unable to stop them from shaking.

He watches you silently, and you're not sure if his gaze makes you more or less nervous.

"See?" he says. It's so silent up here, and the two of you are so close that he barely has to whisper for you to hear him. "Not so bad."

Nodding slightly, but shakily, you turn to look at him again - now able to fully see how the breeze picks up the edges of his hair, brushing them back, how the moonlight glints on his earrings, and the way his expression is relaxed. For a minute, you consider how strange it is - two years of living in one of the busiest cities in the world, and this chance encounter feels like the most genuine connection you've had.

The quiet stretches out between you two again, but this time it doesn't feel awkward. It feels like letting out a breath you'd been holding onto for years.

Your eyes tilt upwards as you force yourself not to look down and take in how high up you are. From this angle, the skyline is even prettier, the buildings shrinking down as the chaos of the city dulls into a low hum. And for once, you're not thinking about unread emails or that group project you're basically carrying alone.

"Do you come up here often?" you ask, your voice soft.

"Only when I feel like I need some quiet from everything, you know," he sighs, "silence is hard to find in this city."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, sometimes I just need to feel like the world's not spinning out of my control. I get so busy I forget what it's like to just... stop."

He glances sideways at you, raising one eyebrow. "Maybe you should do it more often."

You laugh again, but this time it's low, cynical. "I've got a lecture at eight tomorrow and about a thousand things due, can't really afford to stop when every second passing by feels like a waste."

"Then don't go."

His response is so quick, so casual, that it catches you off guard and all you can do is blink as you let out a soft, "what?"

He shrugs, almost like it's the simplest thing in the world. "Skip it, just once, I'm sure you can afford it. Sleep in, grab coffee with me, and we'll walk around or something. You can tell me all about the annoying people in your class or whatever."

You shake your head but can't help the smile spreading across your face at his offer. "I don't even know your name," you offer as a lame excuse.

"Would that really change much?" he asks teasingly, "I can tell you don't want to go to that lecture anyway." You offer a half shrug, looking away from him, a little embarrassed at how easily he sees through your facade.

"Jake," he says finally, like he's resigning himself to you. He leans back, offering a hand to you, and for a minute, you just stare at it, at him, before shakily reaching out to take it.

"I'm not saying I'll skip," you warn quickly.

He squeezes your hand lightly in reassurance, his smile just growing, "I'm not saying you have to, just think about it."

You nod, feeling the same twist in your stomach again, but this time, it's different. It's not nerves, it's something warmer, something comforting yet exciting - something you almost forgot you could feel.

Silently, but still holding your gaze, he slips back onto the rooftop. He walks backwards, his hands shoved into his pockets, and you turn yourself around to watch him. "Tomorrow, at eight thirty, I'll be waiting by the lamp post on the corner. If you show up, your coffee's on me," he calls out, pointing a finger at you.

"And if I don't?" you challenge.

He shrugs, grinning to himself like he's enjoying this way too much. "Then at least I know where to find you."

With a final gleaming wink, he disappears down the fire escape, leaving you alone on the rooftop once again. It isn't until the wind blows that you realise how warm your face is, or how wide you've been smiling this entire time. Carefully you push yourself off the ledge onto the rooftop, your heart buzzing with a newfound excitement.

Surely skipping one lecture couldn't hurt.

[dingodad]

please god i need to know what U think of the whole “jadebloods are all female!” thing because i got into homestuck in 2019 around the time of friendsim and (retching) Lanque so i always assumed they were explicitly intended to be an all-female caste. however, re-reading the comic this year, i couldnt find a mention of it other than virgo and the Space aspect being really feminine, but i think kanayas journey with motherhood is more kanaya-centric than All-Jadebloods centric??

on one hand, it makes sense given that alternia has very real gendered oppression, so what’s better for that than CATHOLICISM?? on the other hand, i always saw kanaya as being transfem coded, because it connects so well with roxy yknow.. homestuck fans love to insist that certain characters just have to be cis women (kanaya, jade, roxy)

(as an aside; was “long hair was butch on alternia” a one off joke? i like speculation about alternia’s fashion opposing earth, lol)

most all of our basis for explicitly gendered interpretation of Alternia comes from act 6 intermission 3, where Aranea tells us that "jade 8loods were also an almost exclusively female caste". so the door has always been open for there to be "some male jadebloods". but it's a mistake to view this as having anything to do with any kind of "biological sex". the whole idea of biological sex among trolls is a smoke screen. the jadebloods' assigned gender at birth is "jadeblood". this is what makes them a feminised caste.

Caliborn doesn't have a clue what biological sex is. Aranea will tell you that there are boy cherubs and girl cherubs, but for your own sanity you need to cast this idea out of your mind: cherub sex takes place between good and evil cherubs - which is determined by their blood - and anything else is just roleplay. Caliborn's attitude toward sexing is that the ones he likes are boys - that's all the thought that goes into it. and that's the mindset we need to be aware of when we delve into understanding troll gender. there are some trolls who have breast tissue and some who don't, but they aren't "mammaries" in any sense, so there's no reason to believe they're actually sexual characteristics of any kind; maybe this is what Lord English chose to base his gender schema on, but the idea that this means there must be "male trolls" and "female trolls" is completely imagined for the narrative convenience of the human reader.

when we read that there are "male-dominated" highblood castes and therefore by implication female-populated lowblood castes, it's not by some coincidence of biology: the highblood castes are male-dominated BECAUSE they are highblood castes. each caste has a role to play in Caliborn's Alternia, and just as the highblooded roles are those of patriarchal domination, the lower castes must take on roles of feminised submission; and in the case of the jades in particular, this means breeding duties. the fact that this also comes with the expectation to wear makeup and pretty clothes is just more roleplay.

so tl;dr what i think of "the all jadebloods are female thing" is that it is very obviously true but in a way more 5 dimensional gender studies way than anyone else tends to mean when they say it

my pet "long hair was butch on alternia" headcanon - which is a joke but in the way all headcanons about alternia should be jokes of some kind - actually kind of relates to this lol. bc i figure that if gendered expectations of female trolls includes working in disgusting underground caverns filled with genetic material, it's going to be practical to keep your hair close to your head where it won't get dirty, in much the same way the feminist image of the short-haired woman became popular in the west during and after world war 2, wherein a lot of women had to start wearing their hair close to their heads to avoid scalping themselves in the factory machinery they suddenly had to start working with. hence kanaya dedicated to her assigned feminine role and wearing her hair short vs. porrim rebelling against it for feminist reasons and thus wearing her hair at a length that would be totally impractical for wading through gene pools.

[mari-starz-writing]

dusekkar x reader ^o^

I don’t have any headcanons for dusek lol, feel free to use ur own!

Sorry that it took me so long to do this request. Was deciding some reader specifics and I've been quite busy with mental and physical health...

Dusekkar x shy!reader headcanons.

・Dusekkar finds your shyness quite adorable. When cuddling, he'll often be the big spoon, and he'll be the one talking usually if someone is chatting with the two of you. He also likes kissing your hand or cheek sometimes.

・(preforsaken) Whenever you two would go out for a date, to maybe a café, or a store you wanted to go to, he'll always be the one to pay. He is an admin, after all. And you're... Most likely too nervous to make a rebuttal against it.

・At the cabin, if you have a list of chores chores assigned to you, he'll secretly do some. You're too people-pleasing, after all... You have that large list of chores. So he has to help you, right? But he does it in secret to make the surprise better.

・(Thanks @goobergobax2, for helping with this one.) If you're talking to someone rude or loud with him, you'll hide behind him while he does the talking. Afterwards, he'll turn around and give you some hugs and a few kisses as compensations for the scare.

・Whenever you're sleepy, you'll fall asleep on his shoulder. Dusekkar finds this cute, and will move your head to his lap so he can still try and read something, and because it's more comfortable. He'll pet your head occasionally and once done with what he's doing, will make sure you get to your bed.

・Sometimes, Dusekkar will bring you along to his meetings with the other admins if you don't have anything to do that day. The admins think you're adorable, and enjoy when you're there.

・He would try and cook for you, although it sometimes ends up a bit messed up due to his magic acting up while doing so. Usually, it does taste good, thankfully...

・Dusekkar is the one who makes the shots usually. He does make sure it's what you want as well, for example, if you're both deciding where to go for a date, he'll make some suggestions of something that fits both your interests.

・Dusekkar enjoys going on walks with you, and will point out flowers and their meanings, sometimes giving a compliment about you along with them. He loves seeing your blush and smile whenever he does so.

・He enjoys doing small PDA, such as hand holding or a kiss on the cheek, but not so much for full on flirting or anything. However, Dusekkar does enjoy the sight of you covering your face as you blush from a compliment...

I hope you enjoyed, Cody. Again, I apologize for taking so long. Some matters in real life have been postponing this...

[alexanderlightweight]

For writing Wednesday:

I know you only just posted the first part an hour ago, but maybe malec meeting and bonding in your new sentinel/guide au? Or magnus reacting to alec's childhood in the new sentinel/guide au. I really liked the first part and I'm weirdly fond of sentinel/guide AUs.

If you don't want to write any more sentinel/guide stuff, maybe something about how Alec growing up in the New York Institute made him weirdly connected to the wards or angelic core.

Your writing is a major highlight of my week! Please make sure to get some proper rest and dring lots of water!

Either nsfw or sfw is good

no you're good! I ended up having a flareup last night that hit pretty bad. I took my meds and got through it but I couldn't think straight so I'm finishing now, today lol there's a piece that goes before this here because you are not the only one who asked for more! and I love sentinel/guide au's so like, I definitely get being weirdly fond since i'm extremely weirdly into the trope.

thank you! I am definitely working to hydrate and drink water not just tea today! I hope you hydrate as well and have a good day and everyone who reads this! drink and rest <3

i hope you enjoy <3 lumine

currency of fate

Magnus frowns at the way his magic is tugging frantically at his levels, trying to beg for more magic yet he refuses. Recognizing exactly which one of his many wards are currently running out and unwilling to assign more of his magic to shadowhunters.

Fifteen minutes later, Magnus catches a fire message out of the air and when he goes to ignore it, Cahya’s growl deters him.

There’s a moment where Magnus meets eyes the same blue as his magic and then he rereads the message carefully. 

“You want us to go there, despite insisting we ignore everything to do with the Institute for almost two decades?”

Cahya growls, a stubborn note to the rumble.

“Then off we shall go.” Magnus steps into his closet to change and instead, his clothes are magically swapped. Cahya is unrepentant as they impatiently nudge Magnus and well, they have impeccable taste and are unwilling to wait.

Magnus’ outfit is dark, elegant and deadly.  It’s a statement piece of power and wealth and Magnus wears it with ease as he summons a portal and appears just outside the Institute doors. It’s with a sigh that he straightens his back and lets a smirk grow across his mouth.

The doors don’t open until Magnus flares his magic but there’s no one on the other side, in fact it isn’t until he’s already down the corridor that he hears voices at all. 

“Sentinel Bane!” There’s a call of recognition as a shadowhunter with dark, shoulder length twists greets him.  He’s clearly worried even as he nods to Magnus, politely refraining from offering his hand. 

“There’s a problem with the power levels of the wards, correct?” Magnus doesn’t want to waste time, he wants to get to the bottom of the issue so he can hunt down whatever is causing the restlessness in his soul to wake up.

“No, the wards are a problem but the real problem is Alec and his guide abilities and how the wards are isolating him.”

“What?” Magnus needs to be certain he heard that correctly. 

“Alec Lightwood, the Head and Commander, he’s a guide. We can’t get anyone close to him and the wards are shutting down in a pattern that’s locking us in our Institute but away from him. Medical can’t reach him and everyone who got past the wards before lockdown started are already unconscious from Alec’s abilities.”

That doesn’t make any sense.

None of it.

Magnus would have known if there was a nephilim guide on his territory, he couldn’t have been hidden under Magnus’ own wards. There is no reason for his own magic to betray him so intimately. There’s a slim chance the guide recently came online, or is visiting from Idris, but Magnus still should have been able to feel or at least notice them.

“Why wasn’t his pride called?”

“He doesn’t have one. I can’t tell you why, it’s classified and I don’t personally know.” The implication is he’d tell Magnus if he did know is not unappreciated.  “They said restraining and healing magic are our best hope and as local Archon, you shouldn’t be overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?”

“He’s powerful and the sentinel who caused this had been decently powerful. The Clave sent him through from Idris but he was sent back catatonic before the wards started to rampage.”

Cahya growls and flicks their round ears before knocking a large paw into Magnus’ calf followed by a hurried snap of their teeth in the air. Impatience suddenly sharp as the frost beading on their silver fur.

“Oh.”

There would be a reason, and not one that could be considered a betrayal. In fact it explains why Magnus magic is so desperately trying to sequester the guide, to hide him away from intruders or other sentinels.

Sentinel’s who aren’t Magnus if what Magnus thinks is right.

Magnus portals through the shuddering and quickly closing wards.  

They are locking in on themselves, just as the nephilim at the entry said. The fragmented magic was running out of power and it latched on the angelic core like a leech. Layering shields around the shadowhunter guide, his surroundings and finally the very Institute.

—

Alec tries to forget the rage trembling through his body, tries to clear his mind and ignore the fact that the Clave is pushing their agenda on him. There’s a strange noise that the wards don’t react to and a presence Alec doesn’t recognize is suddenly in the same space as him.

Alec’s mind reacts first and yet instead of a foreign intrusion, he’s met with nothing but familiar comfort and his mind unravels, reaching out to pool against the stronger power. It’s slightly different from what already guards his mind, but it’s too familiar for Alec to be thwarted.

It’s exactly what he needs after the slick, disgusting feeling of someone else's mind trying to influence his own from earlier.

“Oh darling, do you even know what you’re asking for?”

The voice is rich and makes Alec feel like he can do or ask for anything. It also doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know the words for what he wants, when he knows instinctively it’s what he needs.

“I’ll settle you enough to get you out of here. Then I’ll bond you properly.” 

—-

Magnus' mind luxuriates in the feel of rich, raw energy nestling against him and his senses instantly calm. Layers upon layers of Alec... Alexander's mind wraps around him in protective defense. The restlessness is purged, instead being replaced by urgency.

Magnus frowns as his guide growls, clearly displeased by the suggestion and the fact that Magnus isn’t yet touching him.  However, the last thing Magnus wants to do is bond to his guide in an unfamiliar and dangerous location, no matter that his magic is wreathed about the Institute.

The euphoria of being right, of having his guide here and now and already begging to be his — as if he hasn’t always been. Considering that Magnus can already feel the reciprocal energy of shields on his boy’s mind and doubts Alexander’s ever been anything but his.

Magnus knows that with his own tendency to go feral and the way Alexander’s rage coils like veins of lava bubbling beneath the surface that he should go for the kind of bond that will stabilize them. However Magnus has always been accused of being ‘too much’ and perhaps, he wants to prove people right.

In his own special way, of course.

After all, it’s a gift from Magnus, a choice that he’s making, to ensure someone else is correct for once.

So as much as Magnus wants to fuck Alexander through the Institute’s floor and sear their bond into existence and would be happy to do so. He also doesn’t want to share a single moment of their bonding euphoria with any shadowhunter beyond the one that’s his.

“I’m going to leave a note and then I’ll take you somewhere we can bond.”

Alexander grumbles at the delay, his familiar echoing displeasure and then a sharp-toothed maw and soft muzzle nudge Magnus’ fingers as if in acceptance.

Which is sweet, because no how much Magnus wants to sink his senses into Alexander here and now, he can’t with the knowledge and sense input of all the enemies around him.

AN:

typically sentinel/guides kind of project emotions when bonding etc and Magnus doesn't want to share that sensation. he could share it with his own pride as like a morale boost but he might not ever share that.

Alec is dissociating right now because after another year of ignoring attempts, the Clave sent one of the sentinels who work more directly under their influence to uh... seduce him. It didn't work and Alec's mad and the wards had a panic because they don't want to risk losing Alec for Magnus' sake and Alec's safety.

i'll get more into descriptions later, Cahya is ice natured as a representation of Magnus' future guide and Jayr is fire natured for the same reason

[married-to-google-translater]

Can I ask for Akaza, Douma, Daki and Muzan with a human child that says when they grow up they are going to marry them and calls them Pretty? (Like, nothing creepy, just the child equivalent of playing house oWo)

I do this now with Douma and Muzan

Rest of characters you found here

Douma

Okay, who gave the child to Douma to take care of?

Who would think that would be a good idea?

Someone needs to file a child protection report quickly XD

Well, at least you wouldn't complain.

You think Douma would be a really fun company

Because you really don't know his secret.

Douma would also often play with you and carry you everywhere.

You also get a lot of special treatment with him

Douma, on the other hand, likes how lively you are.

You were energetic and always inventing new things.

He would love to watch it.

Today you decided to play at home…

Or you insisted and Douma couldn't refuse because you're so cute.

Douma would probably just laugh at this.

You were so sweet and naive.

Especially when you show your displeasure when he starts laughing.

You are just so really cute

Muzan

Okay, how you end up with Muzan is a really long story.

So long that we won't begin to tell it here.

The author is writing this at 1:30 am and would like to go to sleep already lol XD

Maybe he was originally supposed to play your father or he is your real father.

Who knows…

However Muzan wouldn't usually play with you.

He would usually assign some upper moon to watch over you.

So these moments would be quite rare.

However, now Muzan decides to play with you.

At least for a moment.

Muzan would not really learn well playing with a child.

He wouldn't have much experience.

Maybe this would be a sneaky way to get you to do chores.

Muzan would stop for a moment when you said he's pretty…

gotta say he'd be a little hurt.

He should be impressive and scary…

Not pretty.

He would stare at you for a long time.

No more playtime for you XD

[katiekatdragon27]

Being an artist is fun cuz I can draw whatever whenever as long as I have a group of people peerpressuring me /j

This all started as a joke talking about THANOS Muffin and sorta escalated/derailed into just sorta assigning OSC characters as a whole to the DSMP characters.

My gc and I had no real idea what we were doing, and this is honestly just for shits and giggles, lol. Everyone was assigned on dynamics and vibes instead of being logical. PLEASE DON'T BULLY ME FOR MY SPELLING, IT WAS SUPER LATE AT NIGHT WHEN I DID THIS.

The culprits: @always-just-down-the-street and @friiskuz (the main two), @mambari, and @glitchtypes

(Also keep in mind that I have never watched a full stream of the DSMP, I only watched certain content creators outside of the server. I barely had any say in this so don't blame me if you don't like iiiiitttt.)

Specifics under the cut:

Firey from BFDI is Tommyinnit. This was decided because of his main characterness, him being one of the most important characters in OSC history, and his mildly chaotic nature.

Leafy from BFDI is Tubbo. This was decided because of Firey being Tommy. Also, because I find the ship between Tubbo and Ranboo cute and this universe's equivalents really funny to pair up.

Taco from II is Wilbur Soot. This was decided because of the betrayal stuff, the violence and manipulation, and because we thought it would be fun.

Top Hat from TNM is Ranboo. This was decided because of vibes, trauma maybe(?), and some other stuff that my friend said. Also, something about hallucinating probably and just being in a general sense of not okayness.

Muffin from THANOS is BadBoyHalo. This was decided because this is litterally BBH. He is literally based on BBH clips from his videos cropped together to make a character. He started this whole thing.

"Blood" Diamond (although their built like Aquamarine) from BFDI (ABCDEFG) is Skeppy. This was decided because Skeppy's skin is literally a diamond. They're a "blood diamond" because of the egg arc, and they are probably a brother instead of sister since that short isn't really canon to anything. They're a blank slate, we can do what we want.

Oodle from AIB is Slimecicle. This was decided because of his omnipotent god powers (immortality) and just being a silly goofy guy in general. We considered Goo for a bit, but Goo's a little too young to have been around since the dawn of the server. Maybe before becoming Oodle he was Goo? Idk.

X from BFB is GerogeNotFound. This was decided because of who we made Dream XD. That's really it (they might have also had some weird romantic stuff happening in the stream before???).

Four from BFB is Dream XD. This was decided because of the revival aspect of Four's power and also their scary and overall powerful nature. The rainbows are because of Infinity being a rainbow in canon.

Call me cringe all you want; I can take the heat. If you want to feed into this hellhole, be my guest. Have a great day bros >:)

[littlesparklight]

On the one hand I've come around to the idea of some traitors on the Trojan side - Antenor is a big one. Mostly because (absent the more egregious versions of the traitorous Trojan faction in Dictys and Dares) the actions assigned to him are easy to weave into the standard/earlier version of Troy's fall (that is, not Dictys or Dares lol). Also, I just don't trust or like a man who talks so warmly of the Achaeans so I'm fine with going the whole way out and making him ambitious (and reckless) enough that he's willing to do some traitorous actions here and there.

On the other hand, there are other characters I just can't see it for. Aeneas? Sure, we have that bit in the Iliad where he's pissy over how he's being treated by Priam. But I'd feel this is more interesting is it's just a grudge (whether fair or not) that doesn't actually go further than that.

Helenos? You want me to go along with the idea of a man who is SO UPSET that he doesn't get pussy he's willing to sell out his family and city - after being steadfast in its defense for ten years - that he goes full on, willing traitor? Be for real now. Like I could maybe go with that he might be a more or less pleasant person, but "he's so offended over being passed over as Helen's new husband he goes traitor when Odysseus captures him" nah, no no no. I don't think so.

Makes far more sense to me that those prophecies are tortured out of him (no matter how genuinely upset/offended/whatever he might be over Deiphobos getting to marry Helen instead).

[merakiui]

PLEASE WRITE THAT SPY AU PLEASE

I'M SO TEMPTED AAAAAAAAA,, orz but I can't write anything else until I finish tmdg (and the rest of the fics on my list). But just know that if I do write Floyd spy au, it would naturally have to include these very crucial details and scenes:

✧ hand-to-hand combat training with Floyd and you're one of the only other agents (aside from Jade) who can match Floyd's pace and sporadic fighting style. Exchanging blows is fun, even more so if you manage to give Floyd the ass-kicking of a lifetime. He's lying flat on his back and you're standing over him and he's never been more horny in his life before.

✧ reader finding out that Floyd's father is the head of the mafia they've been investigating on the sly. Perhaps it's one of those scenarios where the mafia has taken something from you or you're on the run from Mr. Leech's debt collectors, so there's lots of angst to be had when you find out Floyd is the son of your enemy. The betrayal is so yummy... orz Floyd being a wolf in sheep's clothing all along. Oh, you thought he was an agent allied under the same cause as you? As if. <3 (or the misunderstanding angst!!!! Floyd trying to tell you that he's different and not like his father, but you won't hear any of it.)

✧ things get particularly perilous during a mission and maybe the enemy has you cornered. You think this is the end, but then Floyd's there, killing them in the most brutal, cold-blooded way. And you don't see his usual goofy, carefree grin or hear his nasally laughter. It's just this blank, dead-eyed stare and the ever-so-subtle curl of his lip as he sneers at the one who dared to threaten his Shrimpy's life. He shrugs off the bloodlust afterwards just to give you a silly smile and say, "Aww, did I scare ya, Shrimpy? My bad."

✧ missions with Floyd as your partner never go to plan, which means you're both often called into Azul's office so he can scold the two of you (although most of his ire is usually directed at Floyd) for "fucking up the mission." And Floyd has such a smart mouth on him, so it drives Azul insane (even though Azul knows what he's getting into when he assigns these missions to Floyd; it's mainly why he has a partner. You're there to keep him in check). T_T

"But we got the stuff you wanted, Azul."

"Yes, but I specifically said it was to be entirely covert."

"But we got the stuff."

"But you weren't covert."

"So what? We got the stuff. Who gives a damn about—" and you're already dragging Floyd out before he can continue bickering with Azul.

✧ Floyd who always gets you into the most dangerous situations during missions and he's always the one who saves you from said situations. Danger just follows him wherever he goes, but he also has a penchant for inciting it.

✧ his code name is "Bind the Heart," but Floyd thinks that's so lame and so he just uses his real name even though Azul's choked him out for it every time. So now he settles for BTH as a shortening and if anyone asks what it means he says, with full seriousness, "Bacon Tomato Hamburger." LOL

✧ Floyd who is so down bad for you that he's always flirting with you in his own weird, Floyd way, and each time you shut him down with a stern, "Never gonna happen," because you're dedicated to your job (and love is a distraction in this line of work). But Floyd's not one to give up and he keeps trying because according to him, "Never might be today and tomorrow, but Shrimpy doesn't know what'll happen in the future..." (He's right; the two of you end up fucking months later because Azul booked a hotel room for you to share on one of your missions and it did have more than one bed, but why sleep separately when you can sleep together?)

✧ despite how closely you and Floyd work together and how chatty he can be when he's in the mood, neither of you know much about the other's personal life. Cue Floyd wanting to know more about you and you getting suspicious each time. And he always answers your questions with, "Because. Can't I ask about Shrimpy's life if I'm plannin' on bein' in it long-term?" He will be the death of you........ orz

✧ Floyd gets himself badly injured on a mission, so he's stuck on bed rest until he heals up. Which means you're transferred to Agent Shock the Heart in the meantime, and Floyd does not like the idea of you and Jade cozying up during missions. >:( he's in Jade's ear the entire time the both of you are on the mission (he dragged himself out of bed and to HQ's tech room just to steal the microphone from the agent who was in communication with Jade) and he's saying stuff like, "Jade, you lay a finger on Shrimpy and I'll break all of yours..." and Jade just has to be annoying, so he's like, "We get married in June. I do hope you'll be my best man."

✧ a classic confession in the midst of an argument. Maybe the mission got too risky and you have to leave behind your team; you and Floyd get into an argument about it and essentially it ends with him yelling, "Cuz I ain't ready to lose ya!" And you look at him with so much confusion because what is he talking about? And Floyd's so angry he's even tearing up and from there it's a soft admission of feelings: "Cuz I like ya... A lot. A whole fuckin' lot. And I'd rather those other guys take the fall than let you get hurt for 'em." AAAAAAAAAAA OTL

[jess-boob]

You mentioned their relationship is complicated, can you define what you mean by that? I understand the unique and strange part, but not that. And NO😭 Even if you don't write, please do share about the idea you'd like to see happen in a potential s2. Even if you don't know anything about korean policing what not, any crumbs will do. This fandom (I mean fellow shippers) I'm sure would desperately want to read anything and everything about our detective profiler duo🥺 LOL Hansaem being the lowkey jealous type would be most entertaining watch😂 What about jealous Ena though?

i guess complicated in the sense that it’s not so easily definable as it is not a “normal” relationship; their lives first became intertwined when hansaem was assigned the case of ena’s uncle’s murder, for which he suspected her as the killer, and continued obsessing over it for ten years. when the puzzle murders began again, he still suspected her even while directly working with her to solve the new cases—and even while she was living at his apartment (😭☠️), until eventually he came to trust her and realised she wasn’t capable of any of it. and now they’re best friends 😂

well, i feel like it’s not exactly a fanfic or ship type of idea, but i thought that, as the plot line for a potential season 2, it would be cool to see a role reversal where this time it appears that hansaem is framed for a murder or series of murders—maybe for the murder of another cop that was connected to his past case as an undercover gang member. and the evidence against him is somehow near-indisputable, with forensics, DNA, paper trails etc all pointing at him, and no one can believe it but they can’t just refute all this evidence. hansaem escapes the police station and goes on the run, with the intent to clear his name, but running makes him look even more guilty, and there are certain things that even has the audience questioning “shit, did he really do it?” meanwhile, ena trusts that he didn’t do it. and she and hansaem secretly stay in contact with a secret meet-up spot where they bring each other information to clear his name, but as ena struggles to create a profile or find any solid evidence that he is being framed, there is a tiny voice that begins to whisper at the back of her mind “could he have really done it?” because he’s always been weirdly avoidant about discussing that one case from his past with her—or with anyone—and even now, he is still hesitant to share details with her about it even though it could help clear his name. he’s hiding things from her and she thought that they didn’t do that with each other. so it really tests their relationship. and it turns out, there were some really shady things that had happened during that case that has always haunted him—and that’s the real reason he couldn’t go through with getting rid of his tattoo. and until the last episode, the audience doesn’t know whether he did it or not; maybe he did, maybe he didn’t… 👀 but if he didn’t do it; who is framing him? and why?

and lol i think jealous ena would act a bit like a possessive cat, slapping away anybody who tries getting in between them.

[shaunamilfman]

i'm really good at long anons LOL so here we are.

hahaaa she has both the attitude and the real power (the constant 'youre fired' is great) the way you've written it makes it seem like this is one of the parts she gets off on most

oh i totally agree, r seems to get more emotionally involved; jackie seems to be compartmentalizing hard to her benefit. taking the emotional/sexual satisfaction she needs for herself. something pretty hot about that. jackie getting jealous is also mmm <33

also i don't know how i didn't mention it in my first anon but jackie slapping r across the face is just. yeah. yeah. yes ms taylor thank you ms taylor

yes!! not enough masc reader and i especially love the idea of this butchfemme office dynamic. do you have any other ideas for this jackie and reader?

-🎲

jackie just constantly firing r who just has to take it in stride because what else could you do?? like the first few times r has this like reaction to it and jackie has to be like "get my lunch before you go" and then just assigns confused r more work when you get back kinda thing lmaoo.

i mean i think jackie genuinely likes r she's very possessive of you throughout the fic i just think it wouldn't occur to her that the two of you being exclusive would even be a conversation because obviously your hers now you have been the whole time. as for the sexual part, yeah. always does. jackie insisting she's not jealous because what would she have to be jealous of? says some shit like "its not jealousy to not want someone else to drive your car". just something so possessive like that.

jackie slapping r was inspired im glad you see the vision. i think jackie as i've written her in this verse just toes the line of like actually hurting r all the time which is where she likes it. slaps you just hard enough to feel it, grabs you just hard enough to get your attention, etc etc. now the nails are a different story because she's definitely clawing r up.

i don't really have any specific ideas to continue it at the moment, no. i'm in the middle of writing a really long set of fics so it'll probably be a bit before i get around to it unless i get like super inspired but i wouldn't mind returning to it maybe.

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Post for The Rookie 7x11!!

Everyone ATE at their jobs today!!! And I'm so glad everybody (including all the hostages) is okay :'D

Lucy did really well as a practice sergeant! I still don't know if that's the path for her given that she likes being in the thick of it (like undercover) but I support her :). I get why she doesn't just want to stay where she is forever, even if it's not her first choice (I actually really get that as I was recently accepted to my second choice program for something lol)

Tim also did great stepping back - he has been a TO for years lol! Also, I'm SO GLAD Chenford actually talked for a second 😭 like with words. And while I'm not as insistent on Tim being drastically- I don't know, in need of repentance xD, I'm glad Lucy said she hasn't forgiven him yet. It's clear, they're still there for each other, and maybe they'll have something in the future (I mean we all hope/know so but maybe to them), but she's not ready to forgive him. And that's totally fine ❤️!! Glad they just finally TALKED ABOUT IT!! Lol xD

Celina did great on her first real undercover assignment 🥳. And I see why they had her be revealed - left Nolan, with more experience, on the bus (plot wise). But she handled everything really well, as well as keeping track of her mental state afterwards, and I'm super proud of her :D.

Bailey ate too of course!! And yeah, my gosh adoption money o.o and just kid money in general xd. But y'all will figure it out <3. Also though, regarding recklessness 😬. . . I know it's different shows and universes guys, but if Tarlos can't get a kid from recklessness, you can't either xD 💀. Y'all are reckless in different ways but still xD. I do hope it works out though <33.

Loved seeing Grey and Miles work together!! It sucks that Miles had to sell his ring :((. But hopefully he'll come up with the money <3. Also the barbecue bit was silly lol and cute :'D. The whole thing reminds me of Jackson <3..

Also phew for Lucy and myself that Seth isn't here xD the stress man. But I did see a fascinating looking breakdown on YouTube and then realized it was his ACTOR so I am very interested in watching that!!

Angela and Nyla again 😭. This is why you wait for SWAT xD. Nah, but I'm glad they're okay <33. I will say I briefly when just quick glancing at the Wopez tag to see if they were in this episode basically lol (plus I was only pretty sure there was an episode last night xD) I saw Monica mentioned, so when Angela saw the footage I thought it was her for a second, with barely a reaction xD. But, it was, of course, the pregnant lady. Still, O.O. Monica is not doing ANYTHING good, and I'm wondering if it has to do with Oscar. Elijah could have tipped him on to her, and we haven't seen anything with him since his escape.

I will say yes Monica's been hanging on for a little while but I'll let it slide because I need some Wopez/Wesley angst xD like imagine Elijah recommends her to Oscar and they're working together (with Elijah's help). But even though Oscar doesn't really have a personal grudge against them, Elijah's condition is that he makes Wopez pay. Sooo also maybe imagine a repeat or reminder of 2x06 for that trauma damage 👀. Anyway, don't get me started on how Wesley's trauma connects xD.

Also Wesley calling them at the end was great lol <3. I love him and Angela, as always :')) 🥰. And I hope Wes never stops worrying (not just because I like angst lol), at least a little bit <3. They're sweet about it :').

Also the next episode looks O.O. A) CHENFORD 👀👀😳 WHAT THE FREAK ARE Y'ALL DOING XDD 👀👀🤭!! And O.O yes there is a way people will believe it, or at least use it to try and fight in court xD. Anyway it looks O.O, the night time tone really sets it for feeling dark and creepy. Love it, looks exciting!!

Loved this episode :D!! Everybody was really great and the way everything worked with the hostage situation was cool :). And Monica knowing how it would go o.o she continues to be smart, let's be real. Also at first with the accomplice lady I was like "bestie they're gonna find that phone xD" but then I realized there was a drain there lol 😬. Maybe some days it'll get picked up, buuuut probably not xd. Again, glad everyone's okay ❤️! Amazing episode :D!

[lia404]

okay I’m really sorry cause I’m somewhat spamming your inbox but if you still wanted to answer the questions Ryoken for 12, 14 or 26 (you don’t have to do all unless you want to lol)

Don't worry, you're not spamming at all! If anything, *I* am sorry I can't answer the other ask. I'm not deleting it, maybe in a year or so I'll be able to answer it ^^" I don't know when I'll be able to fully watch Zexal. For now I'm only going with second-hand knowledge, so it's not ideal to answer this type of questions.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

(As usual with ask games, a note to myself so I don't lose the link: question comes from this ask.)

Ryoken. Of course it's Ryoken. It's always bloody Ryoken and since he's kind-of the fandom sweetheart, I'm always terrified to write about him. 😂 I have another ask game to answer about him and it's taking forever (if the person who sent the ask for it reads these lines: I'm so sorry. I promise I'm on it...) But I'll do my best!

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

So much has already been written about Ryoken, it feels like everyone has so many headcanons and I'm not sure I can bring anything REALLY new. I do have two or three I can share now: - Ryoken is a massive tokusatsu nerd. I know I'm not the only one to think this. His summoning poses and chants, his dramatics, even his Revolver outfit... And that explosion after the infamous prison break? All very sentai-ish. One may even argue that Rokket dragons assemble to arm Borreload the way a sentai robo assembles with its different parts, but that might be stretching it. - Ryoken does karate. His poses and the way he moves betrays some martial art training. I like to think he took classes because he was obsessed with tokusatsu shows and wanted to do the same as the stunt performers. I also believe that on the boat, he trains with Spectre: Spectre's salute at the beginning of a duel shows he has some knowledge too. - In spite of his name and aesthetic, Ryoken hates fireweapons/he is terrified by them. I haven't developed a whole theory about it yet, but for me, the whole gun-thing is a way to go against this fear and reclaim something.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Please don't hate me. I mean it. Please please please don't hate me. I'm sorry. Maybe you should jump directly to the next question if you don't want me to ruin the character for you. Don't say I didn't warn you. After seeing so much of shiny, dramatic Revolver, discovering Ryoken's IRL persona was... deeply underwhelming. And I had a hard time enjoying the character. I actually still have a hard time liking him (I SAID PLEASE DON'T HATE ME :'( ) when, paradoxically, Revolver remains one of my faves. Anyway, with this disclaimer in mind: every time real-life Ryoken would appear on screen, something about him was bothering me. His clothes, his face—there was something vaguely unpleasant. It took a simple comment from my partner to unravel the mystery.

"This guy looks like he has a Linkedin account."

Massive oh moment. Nailed it.

(A few months later, I met one of my colleagues and I KID YOU NOT, the guy worked in communication and had a well furnished Linkedin account and he wore THE SAME CLOTHES as Ryoken. Except his jacket was pink and the top was white, not the contrary. IT WAS UNSETTLING)

And thus, IRL Ryoken Kogami, I assign you the fashion aesthetic of That Networking Dude, and you shall forever be known as LinkedIn Ryoken in this house.

I'M SORRY. YOU HAD BEEN WARNED.

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

This:

Nothing has ever made me fall for a character THIS fast. During the duel where it's revealed, I literally said JUST the turn before "if I were him, the face-down card would be Mirror Force."

LO AND BEHOLD.

I had to pause the video to catch my breath. And to this day, I'm still in disbelief, and I love Revolver for this.

The other (positive) thing I can't get over is how FUNDAMENTALLY good Ryoken is, to Takeru in particular, but to many characters overall. He's a goddamn tsundere and I really enjoy it. But I also can't get over the (negative) way he behaves with Yusaku, about which I have already complained at length and will always hold a grudge for.

So let's just stick to Mirror Force, which pleases me endlessly. What a nerd.

[daistea]

thrun is not the submissive one. He might bottom here and there, but that's a position, not a role. I also don't like this shit because I see it with basically every character I like. They're a bit feminine. Okay, sure. But then every edge on them is sanded off until they're disgusting smooth. It's like this gross contradiction of excess fragility. It skeeves me the hell out because it takes a lot of the cool traits and feminizes them totally and basically says "Hey! Being feminine isn't cool or complex or edgy. It's soft." Like. Hey. Hey. That is so fucked? Do you not realize that?

Feminization literally so often takes away what is so interesting and meaningful to a character for the sake of shipping and I've been dealing with it since L fucking Lawliet. And I'm tired. I don't care. Make the guy the bottom if you want. But when people get rid of traits and characterization and change the guy to do it, it's like... ???? I don't know.

Maybe just do it because you want to instead of making it some gender thing? It's weird when people go "femme = bottom". You are remaking gender roles! At that point, I dunno, why are we not writing straight sex?

And honestly, I have lots of thoughts about sexuality and dominance and I think there are so many interesting ways to play it out other than physical strength, which, by the way, if you're going off of that, it's Mithrun!

There's coercion. There's mental dominance. There are so many interesting ways to be dominated beyond pure strength that it seems silly that conquest would come down to only that. You've got this guy, knife-sharp, which is to say smart, and incredibly blunt. He's ruthless, relentless, single-minded. And you're making him the fucking submissive? Like. Okay. Sure. Maybe sometimes. But I also think he's impatient, actually. I think you push him too much when he wants and he decides it's his turn now, and God help you.

There are so many interesting ways to explore the dynamic and the feelings and him as a person. He's a stubborn menace. And it's so neat to make the dom a brat, too! Ugh. The bicker. The banter.

I agree with all u said, here’s a Yeah

I know a lot of it is just societal. We’re trained to assign roles, and when we do that our brains go okay here are the traits associated with those roles :)

I feel like a lot of modern fandom should’ve moved on from that by now, though?? And with dunmeshi especially, you’ve got bearded manly-looking men who cook and garden and sympathize/care for everyone he meets— traditionally feminine traits. You’ve got dwarf women who are stronger than the main character— Namari. Youve got a whole race of characters who look and dress generally feminine, but the main elf is ruthless, he disregards others’ feelings and lives, he’s blunt, he kills people and he does it in a skirt LOL

(I know it’s not technically a skirt but the concept remains ✌️)

Mithrun’s traits are traditionally associated with masculinity. (Women are like that too, though, and actually I want to see more women written like that!) Anyway, despite that, he still gestures in a feminine way sometimes. He’s like if a man and a woman had a baby. Mithrun isn’t necessarily defined by specific roles, which is a consequence of his backstory. That’s how he’s written. He has the capacity to both submit and to dominate— which uh, most real people do, I think. To an extent. I don’t mean sexually, I mean in a relationship. Most emotionally developed people sometimes submit, sometimes grow more dominant, depending on the situation. But what do I know? The world constantly surprises and corrects me.

If ya wanna make Mithrun the bottom in physical moments, go for it. But just because that is considered a traditionally feminine role does not mean he has to be feminine. His characterization/personality does not have to morph and change to fit what sex position you want him in.

Anyway sorry for the rambling, what I’m trying to say is that dungeon meshi has nuanced characters. And I feel like assigning gender roles + the traditional traits of those roles to these characters erases the many dimensions they were written with.

On a physical note, I believe it also subconsciously stems from who’s smaller— another societal norm. I like a good size difference, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think size necessarily equals role. Just bc Mithrun is shorter and can be easily manhandled does not mean he’s an uwu sub softboy who needs coddling. (I think for him, specifically, it also plays into how his disabilities are subconsciously viewed. But that’s a whole other can of worms to snack on.)

If you insist on giving roles, I think it’s actually more fun to give the little guy the more dominant role!

And I do understand why some people gravitate towards dom/sub top/bottom roles. There’s nothing wrong with that. All I would like to see is some brain power behind the characterization and portrayal.

There’s a lot I can but will not say about shipping in fandom. I adore shipping, don’t get me wrong, but I’m just very funny about Mithrun.

In the end, creativity is about fulfillment and joy and expression! If you wanna use these characters to portray your fantasy/tastes then go ahead. But if you want to portray them in canon-accurate ways, with real relationship dynamics, then all I recommend is to not put as much importance/significance into roles. Look at the characters on their own. Canon is your reference, not fanon.

eepy

[justdaniel-eh]

More AnoVerse Sillies ✨

Hey guys :) guess who has been up to stuff again.

Be ready - massive ramble session coming up on y'all about art, writing, and I have a poll at the end regarding content that some maybe be interested in seeing...?

Been messing around with AnoVerse yet again. No game dev stuff this time though - instead, been hard at work drawing and writing. Yeah I know one day I'll make up my mind on a format for my stuff lol

REDESIGNS 🎨

First thing you might notice about the above doodle - I'm working on redesigning Deejay 😲 oh my goodness !! Finally !! How crazy !! For real though, Deejay needed an update badly. He has been that same design that was once just my online sona for years and while I can't remove what makes him Deejay, I can differentiate him in some ways - especially since Joyscape has claimed the top hat for good !

So, here's a current look at the design that's upcoming ! The one above is more final, but below you can see the initial coloured concept when I was finally getting to closer to it.

He's not insanely different obviously. His hair is more messy with some spikyness to it. His clothes are overall a tad baggier. Pants are now a light brown instead of grey. Blue shirt. Etc etc. Y'all can see it.

The other 3 may get slight changes - but I don't see anyone else needing a major change anytime soon. Ave you can see some slight changes - his skin colour I wanted to lean towards being more red due to his form coming from a red liquid rather than being human. Minister is well... Minister. A tad chunkier maybe, but besides that haha. And a reminder that nothing is final ever lol

WRITING 📗

Oh my goodness !! JustDaniel !! Actually making something that feels final !! Preposterious.

No but for real, I've got some AnoVerse book writing being done. 3 chapters into it and feeling good. Progress has been steady and I'm mostly writing for myself... but. A recent university assignment helped me see more potential in my writing, so I'm curious as to what to do.

This current AnoVerse story I'll release for free when it's done I know that for sure - however I'm curious.

Frankly right now I don't know what I expect doing this poll. My reach here is minimal, 24 people actually following the blog and it's my besties mostly to my knowledge hi besties by the way lmao. But I'd be highly interested in knowing the answers anyway because I'd probably only need about 10 pre-orders to justify it if I did physical books. I've done the research, I know what my pricing would be, etc etc. So y'know yeah. Might be fun to do.

Anyway... that's all from me thanks guys. Been nice to post here again. Will hopefully see you soon lol

Byeee <33

[starcraftt]

Not sure if you'll already have this in your ask box. But please do Ponyboy Curtis please. I know he's your favorite. (He's one of mine as well haha) and I would love to hear you write about him and why he's favorite.

the way i SCREAMED??? YES PLS OMFG OML OML OML TYSM TYSM TYSM YOU'RE NOW MY FAVORITE PERSON DSFH YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYY

how i feel about him

well im sure most of you all know how i feel about pony ( :3 ) BUT INCASE YOU DIDN'T.

i loooooooooooooooove ponyboy. he's ACTUALLY the love of my life i kid you not. he's jst so . . . URGH. he's so sweet nd childish but somehow has a massive understanding of the world and what it is whilst still proving that he is a child and has the mind of one? he's so idiotically smart.

i love the way he also holds such an admiration for his gang, the older ones, like how he likes two-bit's humor, nd how he's scared of dally because he's 'so real', i love how much he loves sodapop, nd how he doesn't understand darry until he finally looks at his older brother, i love him and johnny's relationship—two quiet children connecting through silence.

he just perfectly portrays someone who is absolutely and obviously smart whilst still being able to live a childhood.

i also love how he's unafraid to be different from his family, not thinking much about how much he likes books when the others don't, how he thinks he isn't able to talk about softer things with the gang mostly because they wouldn't understand it—rather then him being scared they'll make fun of him for it.

i love how he's able to deep dive into the works and strings of the world and his friends—like understanding what dally loved, understanding that two-bit doesn't often face serious things without humor—but isn't able to understand things when it comes to himself.

all the people i ship romantically with him.

johnny cade; golden hour my loves. 🫶🫶 i lOVE them. they totally lowkey kissed in the church but pony didn't wanna write that bc everyone was homophobic in the 60s. 😭😭

i think that's the only one right now, lmfao, but let's just wait until i read that was then . . . this was now, nd we'll talk more.

non-romantic otp

HIM ND TWO-BIT HIM AND TWO-BIT I cANNOT EXPRESS HOW MUCH I GENUINELY LOVE THESE TWO ( lol ).

i hate how it doesn't explore their relationship much URGH, but i looove what the book does explain. like when two-bit says he'll babysit ( when obviously he's the one who needs to be taken care of :D ) nd they get into that small wrestling tussle, and then the way pony snarks at two-bit about 'bumming around' the curtis house. 🤩🤩

i just love the idea of a dynamic between a teenager who acts more like an eighteen year old then the eighteen year old does.

plus it's fun to watch the difference between a serious person and a person who doesn't take anything seriously. :3

unpopular opinion about him ?!

whoa ! okay okay okay,, hUM.

i have,, whoa,, no ideas. like legit none WAIT lemmie think about this. wait wait wait,, wait. hMMMM. i fr cannot think of the most basic opinion i have that i don't hear a bunch??

lmfao i'm so sorry.

one thing i wish would / had happened in canon

it's kinda weird, but i wish it had extended more on after the events of the outsiders—because i know in the end it shows him being more comfortable with johnny and dally's death, but grief shows up randomly on days? like? there's no way that he wrote the outsiders and then just moved on, having to portray how johnny and dally died with his own words.

having to understand that at a point, johnny did want to die, having to understand that when johnny left, dally had to join him.

he had to write that out, and i just really would love to know how he handled that, if he struggled writing those parts out, if he had to stop writing one day because it was too much, if maybe there was a time he didn't want to continue it—to choose a different topic for the assignment.

author ponyboy is also just so precious to me <3 🫶🫶

last note

TYSM FOR ASKING THIS WAS SO FUN URGH

PONYBOY HAS MY ENTIRE HEART MAN.