#I always say I’m open to debate as long as it’s respectful on both ends and tbh anon is being more respectful than me😭

[philsmeatylegss]

hey, I know you got hurt and feel that it's very unfair that your brother is autistic. I don't know the whole scope of your situation but it really seems like you went through a lot. you were treated unfairly. and I really emphasise with that. but it doesn't mean that autism is not a spectrum and there are people who are well functioning in our society. it is a disorder and it's not all rainbow colours and some weird superiority some people think it is. but it's also not all bad and you gotta understand people who have it and who try to relate to each other and looking for personas to relate to too. you know we all have strong need for community and to find others who are similar to us, if we are neurotypical and when we are not. I wish you could understand that some people thinking that Phil is autistic is light-hearted and positive. it's not wishing a struggle on Phil. it's just finding similarities with him and others and using the language that we know. and finding out that what we struggle with our whole lives might be autism for a lot is a relief. because we have something to name it with and to be able to communicate with others about it better. there's another can of worms of being diagnosed and what struggles it brings in itself and if it's needed or not to be able to call what we think is autism autism. but if anything, we calling Phil autistic, wish the relief on him. I really respect you and just hope you'll understand better where we are coming from. peace

Absolutely insane this is discourse😭

Although I highly appreciate your kindness and respect lmao. I’m being a bit of an asshole and you’re being very considerate. I really do appreciate it <3

[momhwa-agenda]

lies, lust, and longing pt.1

PAIRING: Husband!Juyeon/Female Reader/Chauffeur!Younghoon

WARNINGS: Angst, comfort, suggestive, Juyeon is a cheater (please don't take any of this seriously! this is after all a work of fiction)

SUMMARY: In the glittering world of high society, appearances reign supreme. As the loyal wife to the affluent and charming Lee Juyeon, you maintain the façade of marital bliss. Yet, behind closed doors, his infidelities shatter the illusion. Amidst the turmoil, solace is found in the kindness of your chauffeur, Kim Younghoon.

A/N: OP attempts to write more than a drabble hsdskd bear with me please

TAGLIST: @daisyvisions @snowflakewhispers @midnightfantasiez (thank you as always for helping me out in the writing process)

“That’s my cue,” Juyeon whispers to you. Your attention redirects to him as he kisses you on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re here with me. Wish me luck, my love.” He says keeping his eyes on you, slipping his hands over yours before he walks over to charm the CEO of his rival company.

“What would I give to have a smitten husband like yours,” the woman in front of you sighs.. You blink twice, your lips curling into a small smile. Well wasn’t he?

You’re taken back to how you came to meet Lee Juyeon. It was way back in university, and Juyeon was a rockstar in your business class. You’ve known each other as you both passed each other down the hallways outside of classes. He’d always smile at you and talk to you sweetly, but you could tell he was out of your league. After graduation, all that sweet talk from him was just dead air. What did you expect? He was the entire university’s crush. Charming nearly every girl was like second nature to him. You weren’t anything special. 

Three years later, you received a message from the bastard. 

“Will you be my date to my company gala?”

Suddenly, the man was courteous, attentive, and affectionate to you—making you feel all suspicious of his true intentions. By the time he blurted to his boss during the gala, saying: “I've fallen so hard for her that I'm seriously contemplating getting down on one knee.”—you have had it and decided to confront him when he took you back to his place. After some hesitation, Juyeon opened up about how he needed a cover-up for his scandals. And now it all made sense. 

You rightfully yelled at him for using you, until he pointed out how smitten you were with him and how you enjoyed the luxuries he offered. 

“All you need to do is join me in company gatherings, keeping up appearances with my family,” he hisses when he mentions the latter. 

“I am the eldest of my family. I have to set an example to my younger brother,” you roll your eyes. 

“My parents are asking me to clean up my act and be the respectable heir to the family legacy, and-”

“And I’m the perfect candidate because your parents have never met me before. I’m not one of your rich conquests…” you’re about to continue until it occurs to you that you might end up marrying him.

“I’ll have to marry you too, won't I?” you ask him and he nods, clenching his jaw. You debate about how you had your own dreams and aspirations, and this arrangement most likely would be the end of your dating life. That you’d be stuck in a loveless marriage.

“What happens to me if we get married?” Juyeon's interest was sparked by your inquiry. Rising from his chair, he explains the terms of the arrangement. It seems equitable; you stand to enjoy the opulence of his lifestyle, ensuring a secure future. While your job provides a decent income, it mainly sustains your apartment and essential expenses, leaving little room for leisure. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal, Y/N?” He looks at you intently. 

Staying with Juyeon offers a tempting proposition, yet the bitter truth remains — romance is an excluded clause.

With a sigh, you concede. “I'll be your wife.”

Now, Juyeon wasn't mean, but he was very cocky and a playboy. He never hid this side of himself from you. Although romance wasn't in the picture, there were moments of intense attraction between you two, which only complicated matters further. These moments often came in the form of small gestures, like the time he asked if you had eaten. 

While these actions were often for show, he would also show kindness when you were alone. Examples of this include the first time he introduced you to his family. He praised your diligence and hard work, attributes he noticed since the day he met you in college. Another instance was when he expressed interest in preparing your favorite meal with you, or when he defended you from a relative's insensitive comment about your social status. Surprisingly, he even shared the master bedroom with you, despite the marriage contract.

However, the most confusing moment occurred one morning. As you were making your way to the shower, he pulled you onto his lap, caressed your hips, and stared at you as if searching for something only you had the answers to. This intensified one night when he came home tired and found you in the bath. Did he carelessly take off his clothes and decide to join you in the tub, proceeding to give you the best orgasm that you squirted in the bath? Yes.

A part of you wondered if he was starting to warm up to you. Maybe he was developing feelings? Your questions were answered when he came home the next day with a couple of hickeys on his neck. 

Honestly, the occasional sex was not much of a problem. The marriage was fake, but you weren't complaining about the man's large hands, impressive dick, and stamina. All in all, this deal was working; you had large sums of money, a lovely home, and great sex with a handsome man.

Yet why were you feeling a little torn that he would still sleep with other women? You knew that no matter how sweet Juyeon could be at home, you reminded yourself that this was all fake. 

That he did not love you. 

Living the life as Lee Juyeon’s wife was truly a lonely one. But in spite of it all, you were grateful for one thing — or rather one person — Younghoon, the personal chauffeur your husband had given you. Clearly this man was not the one who drove Juyeon. Of course, he wanted to separate himself from you especially when he had a night out or fucked a different woman in the car. After all, Juyeon was not one to mix business and pleasure.

Although he was simply a servant, Younghoon was very kind and courteous to you. He always greeted you with a sweet smile, held the door open for you, even asked how your day was and engaged in conversations every time he drove you. Things your “husband” should be doing. 

One day while you were on the way to work, Younghoon noticed something off about you. He was not one to pry, but you seemed very upset. So he asked how you were feeling and suggested that you could take time off work.

 “Don't you have to report to Mr. Lee about our whereabouts?” you asked.

“Considering how Mr. Lee treats you I don't think he would ask where his wife has been,” he answered “I don't mean offense, Mrs. Lee but nothing escapes my eyes.”

“Stop the car, Mr. Kim”

Younghoon frowns in confusion. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hissing “I said please stop the car, Mr. Kim.” At that, Younghoon finally swerves to pull over to the side of the road.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, and you press your palms against your temples. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to collect your thoughts before responding.

“What Juyeon and I have is a deal that works for both of us. He gets to protect his stupid image and make his parents proud. I get the benefits of his money, which frankly makes me a golddigger,” you swallow, your heart beating faster after each word.

“Except it’s more than what I had when I was alone.” 

Despite the slight distance between you two, you look away not wanting to feel Younghoon’s gaze pry you open. You couldn’t bear to have the man who has become your friend amidst this chaos judge you for your decisions.

“I know I could have just refused. I know I am fully capable of handling myself. And I’m fully aware that there isn’t a shortage of men out there…” you try, struggling to keep your cool in fear that Younghoon would see right through your tone. “But we don’t always get to have the things we want in a clean and fair way.” 

“Mrs. Lee,” Younghoon sighs, and you brace yourself for his third degree. But to your surprise he leaves the driver's seat, and moves to the backseat, sitting next to you. You gasp, when you see that his sincerity is evident in his eyes — and him being next to you somehow breaks down the barriers that separated you earlier. 

“I’m not well-off myself, so I understand what you’re going through,” he opens up, “Forgive me, it’s not my intention to make you feel miserable. It’s just that I can see that you’re clearly hurting. I’m saying this because I…I've come to care deeply for you, not just as someone I work for, but as a person.” 

The warmth in his eyes speaks volumes, offering a glimpse of the solace and authenticity you crave. At that moment, tears begin to fall from your eyes. You hurriedly avert your gaze from Younghoon, only for him to tap your forearm and you see him offering his handkerchief. A laugh briefly escapes your mouth as you nervously take the handkerchief, wiping your tears. This was the most sincere act of kindness you’ve seen in a while.

“I’m sorry for insulting you earlier. I just can't stand to see you suffer in silence.” he adds. Once you’ve wiped your tears, you look back at Younghoon and the kindness in his face is unwavering. You feel as if your heart could explode into a million pieces from the affection Younghoon is showing. 

You take his hand in a surprising and tender gesture. “Thank you,” you manage, breaking into tears once more. Younghoon takes the handkerchief from you and gently dabs at your tears. “You’re right, Mr. Kim. But I can’t leave him, you know that,” you tell him. 

“I understand. Just know that I'm here if you need someone to talk to,” he assures, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart.

Both of you are so caught up in the moment, you and Younghoon realize how close you are, and that you are still holding his hand. You both move apart, chuckling nervously. 

“Mr. Kim?” 

“Yes?”

“Could you take me to this cafe I’ve been meaning to visit? Please” 

“As you wish,” he smiles sweetly, before moving back to the driver’s seat. You give him the address and the directions as you drive off.

You smile to yourself, realizing that not only has a friendship blossomed between you and Younghoon, but something deeper was taking root. An indescribable bond, one that goes beyond mere words. A potential for something more, perhaps.

[lifeaftermeteor]

INCOMING: HIATUS

I debated whether to say anything here, but given the proximity to the @gundamzine’s 2023 release, I think it’s probably wise. 

TL;DR—yours truly is taking a break, which I haven’t done in earnest since April 2019.  Might lurk a bit, but before I do, I wanted to share some parting words.

Some additional thoughts under the cut.

It’s a common refrain in these parts that fandom should be fun—once it becomes not fun, it’s a sign that you’re dealing with something and need to step away.  Maybe it’s personal life, work life, or some health matter; maybe it’s creative burnout; maybe it’s the fandom spaces you’re occupying.  If fandom isn’t fun, you need to be able to step away to figure out why.

I can confess that fandom hasn’t been fun for some time now for me.  Instead, it’s been work, it’s been a service.  I’ve taken two big steps this year to address this. 

I decided to close the so-called “Big” / “OG” Gundam Wing server and relinquish ownership. This came as a surprise for many, and I myself went through the five stages of grief over it.  I had envisioned the server being a general open space, like a town square or some other central meeting place; but the bigger it grew, the more our members wanted and needed it to be something different.  That disconnect spelled its eventual doom, because it would’ve meant building a bigger team…which we were never able to do.

I also decided to end my tenure as the head of the Rhythm Generation zine project this year (2023) instead of pushing for one final fifth year as I had originally planned.  We ran a tight project for four years on the premise that all fandom creations were welcome regardless of medium, shipping preferences, or personal creative voice.  I’m proud of the work the Zine Crews did (both moderators and contributors) and am so grateful for our times together.  

But heading into this year’s project, I had had a long conversation with another fan about misinformation that had been spread about the zine—specifically that we did not allow certain ships or would force creators’ hands.  This was the very antithesis of the entire endeavor, so I engaged in good faith to explain the behind-the-scenes management that isn’t widely advertised (i.e. OTPs were always respected, no one was ever asked to create something they didn’t volunteer to do in the first place, and spreading the love around across fandom interests and ships was important).  I spent hours in tears over the whole situation, and looking back that is what spelled the end of the project…at least with me at the head.  

I feel like I’ve lost my North Star—that fandom to me was above all else a community, a neighborhood of sorts.  You didn’t necessarily like all of your neighbors, but you always waved to them in passing at the very least and empathized when they were dealing with something.

So I leave you with this: It is always important to make space for fellow fans whose interests do not align with yours.  It is always important to encourage one another to create, to build, to make space, to join, to organize, to share, to try.  That’s how fandoms survive; that’s how this fandom has survived.  

I’m hoping that an extended hiatus will help me reset, and by taking care of myself I can figure out what I need in my fandom experience going forward.  And when I come back, I hope I can be part of building that. 

[inkstheticbkwrm]

Cresswell. What’s the deal?

Okay, y’all, so I guess I like Cresswell but after rereading there are a few things bout this ship that bothered me. Which leads me to the question this rant is ultimately asking—why do you guys love it so much? No disrespect, I just wanted y’all’s opinions on this and to see if I’m looking at it through the wrong perspective ❤️ don’t come at me please, this is just a respectful debate and I needed to get this off my chest. It’s open for discussion and debate, I’d love to hear your opinions

Now let’s dive into one of my #shiprants and see what I find weird about Cresswell:

let’s take a look at the other ships: Cinder, Scarlet and even Winter give off that ‘I don’t fall in love easily’ vibe (Scarlet and Winter are also the kind many men find attractive) and we can see how their partners (Kai, Wolf, and Jacin respectively) complement them and why they fell for each other. But Cresswell? All we know is that Cress read some half-truths about Thorne’s past and then fell for him, and we don’t even know if she’s serious or she’s just desperate for romance. It’s clear in Cress that she’s a hopeless romantic, the kind who would fall for any guy she knew for three minutes.

Thorne doesn’t show much romantic interest in her till the next book, yes there are moments in Cress but to me it’s mostly just Thorne shaking his head and chuckling at how cute Cress is.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Thorne, and Cress too, but Cress isn’t very strong and she probably needs support on the fact that no other girl means anything to him. Instead, he blatantly flirts with EVERY FEMALE HE INTERACTS WITH FOR TWO SECONDS. This doesn’t give Cress much confidence, and I know a few of you are gonna argue that Thorne assumed that Cress was over him, but if he thought that there were no hard feelings, then why didn’t he jokingly flirt with her too?? and if he knew that there were hard feelings, then why did he flirt with others sm?? in front of her??

If you’ve read Wires & Nerve, you’ll see that there *is* Cresswell. We get a lot of moments in Volume 1 but I was not really fangirling too hard over any of them.

Another comparison with the other three ships: the others really had to fight to be together, and we saw them doing, well, basically everything for each other. But Cresswell has no struggle and the change in Thorne’s feelings towards Cress in Winter is kind of sudden. Yes, I know Cress and Thorne were only introduced to each other in Cress, but it still feels kinda rushed. As someone who has a thing for slow burn, this kinda bothered me.

Another thing: Cress had fallen in love with someone she created, not someone she knew. Ik this just might be the ‘falls in love with the fake version of a person then sees the real one and falls in love harder’ trope, but I still find it illogical and frankly, quite infuriating.

Idm the age difference too much, but it still needs to be addressed. Thorne is four years older than Cress and while you might say that it won’t matter once Cress is an adult, the Cresswell kisses are a bit too passionate for Cress’s age. I’m nowhere near 16 myself so maybe you shouldn’t ask me, but this relationship might end up being sexual while Cress is still a minor and inexperienced.

You might go, “But the others have an age gap, too!” That is true, I won’t deny it. But the gap between Kaider and Jacinter is not as severe and both girls have more experience with people. Wolflet are both consenting adults.

I don’t mind age gaps too much, I think some of them are overhyped just to find fault with the author or creator, but a lot of people are discussing this so thought it was fair to bring it up.

You’re still here?? Congrats, you made it to the end of my long rant!! Lmao, this turned into a full analysis-

anyways—Cresswell has some positives too. I don’t hate the ship but it’s not my fav either. But always remember that you are entitled to your own opinion and this is just my rambling explanation—open for debate, remember ❤️

(Might just analyse the positives of my otps/negatives of ships I don’t like after this lol)

[instantdepresso]

I will be glad to know about any of your characters 48. 46. 41. 38. 32. 27. 21 с:

omg thank you!! it's going to be a long one because I actually opened a new word document just for that and felt a spark of inspiration :')

48. What are they most afraid of?

I feel life Kala is ironically the one who has the most fears out of all my other ocs. She took over Oloïsse as Commander, and as a Charr of the blood legion she believes that nothing is more important than being an excellent soldier and an irreproachable leader. But she has this deep terrible fear of failure, like she’s going to disappoint everyone and especially Rytlock who she regards as a father figure in addition to him being her mentor. I think the worst scenario for her is to loose and make a fool of herself and to never be respected ever again by the people she cares about. Something so bad that she will be forced to give up being Commander which is the highest rank that she could dream of, in complete opposition to Oloïsse who wanted nothing more than leave the title behind.

46. How do others see them? How accurate is it to how they really are?

Okay this is perfect for Asoka because he’s the one who has a hundred fake personas and always puts on a show to get exactly what he wants. People believe that he doesn’t care about anything and he does things just to be infuriating and annoying and most of the time they don’t really get why he does the shit he does and honestly I don’t think he knows either. He never drops the asshole act so he’s starting to believe it too and he doesn’t really know who he is anymore because he spent his whole life being anyone else but himself. And he keeps doing it even when he doesn’t want too and things start getting blurry between what’s real and what’s not. But he cares, a lot. He cares in silence and if anything happened to his sisters or to Agni and Nux he would probably go insane because he cares so much that sometimes it hurts.

41. Are they married? Do they want to be?

Adria was the only one of my ocs who was married before but her husband died (oh my god why do I put so many deaths in my backstories I just realised that while writing all of this and I never noticed before) ok yeah so her husband died like an idiot and he was not a bad guy but I’m also thanking Caudecus because if not for him Adria would still be married to him and she would have never met Blodwyn and Blodwyn is the love of her life and they both are so happy together and I might actually cry a little thinking about this because they deserve it. So yeah anyway Adria is currently thinking about proposing to her but she’s waiting for the right time!

EDIT: after some reflecting time I've decided to keep the husband alive and just end their marriage with a divorce. Sorry Caudecus, another time maybe

38. What recurring dream do they keep having?

This could be a funny addition to say that Blodwyn’s Wyld Hunt is Adria. Imagine being a third-born Sylvari still waiting in the pod and besides all the fucked up memories transmitted by the ones living out there (thank you Asuras) you dream about some lady you neither know the name of or where you could find her. And then you are born and you feel lost and confused and you join the Nightmares because the Dream offers no comfort. And you keep dreaming about a woman who is a complete stranger but who feels more important than the entire world. (idk how much lore-friendly this is but I thought about this whole thing a lot when I created Blodwyn)

32. Would they be the one to start an argument?

For that one I made a small ranking of how likely these characters would start an argument

Asoka (he just likes to instigate drama) > Nux (doesn’t know it’s an argument, thinks it’s a spirited debate) > Dexx (anger issues) > Agni (also anger issues but also doesn’t like to speak that much)

27. What smell do they hate the most?

The smell of chemicals would be the worst for Nux because it reminds her of how she lost her arm and was excluded from her College. She had this project for a competition that her coterie forbade her to achieve because they knew it would be unstable but she did it anyway because she’s stubborn like that and caused an explosion which not only took her left arm but also the lives of two assistants.

21. Can they dance? Do they like to?

This one is for Agni because I actually had this idea for a long time that her uncle (who raised her after she lost her parents at a young age) taught her how to dance and she used to like it so much because that part of her life was the happiest she ever was. It didn’t last long, because her uncle died on Claw Island and it was one too many loss in her life and she doing everything that reminded her of him, including dancing.

[greasysteak]

Im back you guys

Supernatural is never forgotten it seems. Very happy to be here I missed being passionate about this show lol😇😇😇😇💝🎖️

Anyways one of my favorite things in sam and deans dynamic is the way they compliment each other in how they respond to when the other is in danger/dead/injured. I remember some really amazing posts being made about this by other people before omg. Still on my mind.

Idk I know partly it’s because the show puts them in very different situations but I think it’s very telling that when Sam dies dean hurts himself, plans his own demise (ie suicide) and when Dean dies Sam plans to essentially hurt the outside world (so, others) in this very mechanical vengeful way. Same way John did really lol although the show already presents this comparison very early on.

Dean is protective, his sole focus is that Sam is ok, no matter if he does end up fighting whoever in the process. Sam is reactive, his focus is on hurting whoever did the inflicting on dean. This in my opinion is because Sam is Dean’s world, or at least, Deans link to the outside world as well as his sense of self as a person with the role of Protector. Meanwhile Dean is arguably the most important part of Sam’s world, which is filled with the rest of everything as well. And Dean is Sam’s link to the world of Hunting, even when hunting becomes something he’s chosen on his own for himself no matter what Dean might want for him.

In this same train of thought, when Sam dies, Dean’s first reaction is to paralyze, to become passive, outwardly distressed, disconnected. When he does become active, he’s still very clearly emotional. When Dean dies Sam very quickly becomes active in a much controlled, methodical manner where the anger boils and spills.

Obivously within reason. They both cry, are sad, etc Lol. But I do think the contrast in how they act is there.

I really like the characterization of Dean not being someone especially vengeful, rather dutiful. And Sam as either the opposite, or both.

In the same vein I’ve always found it really interesting how the persona of who is the normal one and who is the weird one flips and flops between the two brothers throughout the show and in various contexts. In reality they’re both outsiders within their world and they are both weird, since they’re hunters. Deep down Sam is the one with the conflict of being a freak, both in his family and an actual freak with the demon blood thing, and a freak within college life at Stanford in Palo Alto. But really Sam is also at the beginning of the show especially, presented as the normal of the two due to having been outside the world of hunting, unlike Dean, who remains sheltered… despite not having been the one BORN into hunting. He may be charismatic but he’s closed off, antisocial, except for Sam and the few contacts they have. As the show goes on, Sam’s neediness and Dean’s charisma puts them into the private and open one respectively.

Also i think it’s very important to note that they view their relationship in equally (yet different) distorted ways. And the show shows this. It’s lowkey easier to focus on Dean because he’s very protective but Sam is absolutely the same way (or even more intense lol depending on your interpretations) he just conceals it better most of the time lol.

Then again the show is so long and has so many glossed over details and so many retcons I swear you could make ANY claim and find substantial textual and subtextual evidence to back it up. I haven’t forgotten about the drunk driver Dean debate, you guys… That’s honestly what I love most about spn lol the implications of it all………

Anyways I’m not saying anything new here I know but I love this side of tumblr and spnblr omg..

[fearsome-series]

BOOK ONE | BOOK TWO | [BOOK THREE]

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | [Five] | Six | Seven | Eight

FIVE PEACE ON EARTH

“Surprise!” Katie announced.

“Go to hell,” Melissa replied, looking down at the cake sitting on the table in the rec room. “Happy Retirement? You stole me a welcoming cake?”

“No, we didn’t steal it,” Katie said.

“It was made for someone else though,” Javy answered.

“How thoughtful.” Melissa put her hands on either edge of the table. “Want me to knock your stupid cake on the floor?”

“No. If you don’t want it we’ll have it.”

Melissa took her hands off. “Then have it. I already ate.” As she returned to her room, one of the metal flaps shook; she shot a glance at it. Besa’s face peaked back from the crack. “If you do anything to celebrate my arrival, I’ll turn you to stone.”

“You turn people to stone…?” She said, clearly afraid. Heh.

“Want to find out?” Melissa smiled a big, stupid, fake grin, and went back to her room undisturbed. She lifted the flap, sat down on the rough mattress they placed on the concrete. She had a lamp on the floor next to her and nothing else. She started to unlatch her goggles, and -

Knock knock. June. Only a couple days and Melissa already knew her pattern: knock knock KNOCK, knock knock, KNOCK KNOCK. Melissa reluctantly re-latched her goggles and threw open the flap. “What do you want?”

“I only wanted to check in on what went down the other day in group.”

“Nothing went down.”

“That’s my point! I wanna check in that you’re making friends and influencing people. That’s an old book, y’know. Not saying you need to -”

“Is there a book called ‘shutting up and leaving people alone’? You could really use that one.”

“Aw, gee, I don’t think so, but if that’s what you really want, I’m all about respecting your boundaries. But sometimes, when your boundaries are being broken, that’s the best time to process what’s troublin’ ya.”

“Here’s a thought: go process your brain worms.”

“You’re gonna be here a while, ya know. Might as well get to know everyone. Get to know the vibe of the place.”

“Okay, teacher, can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“How many suicides has this place seen? How many people got too bored of steam pipes and bricks and - “ She mimicked hanging herself.

“That’s not a very funny thing to say.”

“An answer like that implies the answer’s not zero. Now, did you wash up the blood yourself? Did you paint a little yellow flower over it? Did you give a eulogy about the power of positive thinking and just keeping up your goshforsaken spirits? Well, Gosh is dead, sweetheart. Live with -”

BRRNG BRRNG BRRNG of an alarm, flashing lights down the corridors, the raising of metal…

***

They walked across a small beach, to a wooden pier that creaked in the waves, a pier that looked out over the city.

“Biggest pier on Earth. So long there’s a train out to the end.”

“Wow.”

“There’s this little theme park by it. Adventure Island. I went in a couple times.”

“1 AM. It’s so quiet. Just us and the waves.”

“Aye. Sometimes, the night’s beautiful.”

“What’s the most beautiful part?”

Clive paused. “I’ll be honest. I really can’t see a bloody thing. ‘Sides you.”

“I forget you have eyes meant for...daytime...awakeness.”

“I’ve only been nocturnal for a year. I’m not ready to count my eyes out yet.”

Frantic flapping, and Malphas flew in low.

“Someone’s coming! Two men!”

“Are they Agency?” Clive asked.

“I don’t know!”

Eliza pulled herself to her feet. “We should go.”

“No.” Clive sat where he was. “We have as much of a right to be here as they do.”

“I know we do, but-”

Clive crossed his arms. “We always run and hide. Hear a person outside the docks, we cower and hide away for twenty minutes. Creeping around downtown so that a hipster doesn’t see us. We can’t keep doing that.”

Eliza debated what to do. And she decided to stand her ground. Clive rose up, and joined her at her side. Two men ambled down the path. They were white, middle-aged, and one seemed familiar to Eliza, though she couldn’t place how. Both were overdressed for walking the lake at 1 AM, and Eliza suspected their motive wasn’t simple jogging or fishing.

She prayed that they would go by, willing them to leave. But they made a beeline for the pier. She took Clive’s hand. He held it tightly.

“What do we have here?” He was graying and stocky, and when he spoke his voice was gravelly, like a smoker’s.

“Jeeeeesus,” the other man - the familiar one - was brown-haired and serious, his face like a disappointed teacher’s. “What tree did you fall out of?”

“If I looked like you, I’d -” The gravelly-voiced man mocked holding a gun to his head. “BLAM!”

“I hope you’re aware this is our spot.” The other man said.

“You don’t own it.” Clive replied.

Clive held firm, but Eliza was glancing around. Trying to find an exit if things went south.

“I don’t know where you got the idea we were asking you.” The gravelly voiced man said.

“You never asked me to leave.”

“That part was implied.”

Eliza watched helplessly as the familiar looking man punched Clive in the gut. Her boyfriend doubled over in pain. Adrenaline surged through her body. She let out an involuntary hiss. Her fangs glistened. Her claws trembled, anticipating a strike. But could she do it?

“Get out!” The man spat in Clive’s face.

No. She couldn’t. She took Clive’s hand, yanking him to his feet. They ran. Clive shook with rage. Eliza kept looking back, afraid they would follow. They ran past the Union and up the hill, using the surface entrance they were never supposed to use, Eliza seeing danger within every shadow. 

They scurried through the tunnels and collapsed onto the well-worn couch.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t…” Eliza said.

“There was nothing you could do. I shouldn’t have made you stay.”

“No. We had to try it.”

“We’ll go back in our rooms. See the world through a little window in the zoo. And he’ll go back to his job, his family, his house…”

“We could still go out.”

Clive hung his head low. “Not anymore. It...it’s not safe anymore.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

***

Malphas flew over State, and Laura, Manuel, Eliza followed on foot. It was evening, but the traffic was heavy. They were passing a theater, where a show was about to start; through the windows, Laura could see many people buzzing about beforehand.

“Are you, uh, okay?” Laura asked.

“Yeah, I am now,” Eliza answered. “You?”

“Yeah…no. But. Yeah. No.”

“How about you?” Eliza looked at Manuel.

NO :).

“I saw things. When it was singing to me. I saw my family and where I grew up, and…did you hear it?”

I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING.

“Yeah.”

“What did you see, Wolfgirl?”

“Uh…my family, I guess…hey!”

Laura watched as Eliza and Manuel were caught among a crowd of people - and before she could follow, Laura found herself pushed back and forth by groups rushing to get in. People were all around her, a crowd, packing her in, breathless.

When the crowd dissipated, she found herself half a block down. She looked back. No Malphas. No Eliza or Manuel or…

She reached in her pocket. No Gef.

But something else caught her eye. Caught something even deeper. Captured all of her attention, all of her thoughts and worries and hopes.

***

A glittering marquee for another theater, across the street. She found herself drawn to it, as if sleepwalking. 

No one was in the ticket booth. No shows tonight, a sign said.

A ticket popped up anyway.

***

“Did the ghost do something to your voice?” Eliza asked, feeling very stupid as the words left her mouth, but unable to stop them from emerging.

Manuel shook his head. SOMETIMES WHEN I GET OVERWHELMED IT HURTS TO TALK.

“Overwhelmed by…the ghost?”

NO :( THE COP

“I’m…sorry for running out on you…” Eliza scratched the back of her head; the pinprick of pain surprised her, and she drew back her flat, human fingers with dots of blood.

YOU DIDN’T RUN OUT ON US, YOU WERE FOLLOWING MALPHAS AND WEREN’T STOPPED.

“It wasn’t my fault?”

NO :) 

“Why does it hurt to talk? Did the smoke hurt your throat?” The words felt very stupid again, but they wouldn’t stop emerging.

I DON’T KNOW, IT HURTS. IT’S BECAUSE… Manuel trailed off his writing. I’M AUTISTIC.

“Oh. Um, that’s okay, I’m the chupacabra.” Why, throat? Why?

Manuel looked up from the ground, and stared right in her eyes, and raised his eyebrows; then he looked back at Laura for a reaction, and…

“Did she run off too?” Eliza said, with a weird hint of very, very stupid pride.

***

Inside the theater, Laura found herself in a lobby: expansive, but empty. The darkness was only broken by a faint, flickering light from a half-open theater door.

She walked over. Her mind was beginning to wake up. Beginning to scream, beginning to thrash against its current daze. She couldn’t feel something controlling her; in fact, she could barely feel anything at all.

Laura pushed open the doors and entered a theater, its stage lit by a droning projector. It chugged along, projecting images Laura couldn’t understand. A montage: a gray sky, a pair of eyes unattached to a body, a mountain. A few images kept repeating: a man with long hair, wearing rags. A strange, black shape that hurt to look at.

But then the images changed.

It wasn’t images from another being’s life. It was her own.

Laura, in the house. Laura, in the woods. Laura, 9th grade, before the bite.

But then the projector groaned, and the images changed again.

The cop, the one in the hospital and the one on the Square. The hospital, the slice of claws, the spray of red. Laura’s face transforming.

A werewolf crouched over a body in a police uniform, its maw stained red with blood, chunks of spleen stuck between its - her fangs. Laura’s eyes, wide.

“Don’t you want it?” “Don’t you want revenge?” “Don’t you want to be strong?” Voices, she couldn’t see from where. “You could have it.” “You can have it!” “Don’t you want it?”

“I…” She did want it. She did, in a great deep secret place, wish she could stand up to the people who hurt her, who dismissed her, and therapeutically rend their flash with her fangs and claws. Only if they make the first move, of course.

But…

Distantly, the projector chugged, a hiss pierced by pops. But Laura was walking down the aisle, down between the chairs, down towards the screen, set up at the end.

She reached out to it, and a hand reached out from the screen and reached out for her…

She was pulled back, spun around to face Eliza, who let her go, and Manuel, standing by the projector. “Let’s get…” Eliza grabbed Laura’s hand, missed, found it, grabbed more forcefully. “Let’s get out of here.”

She tugged her up the aisle, leading her, carrying her; she heard a grinding of metal and an explosion of dust. The same strange dust Malphas kicked up; it flew around her, a storm that gave her painful, hacking coughs. She doubled over, but couldn’t stop, let Eliza carry her. As they reached the top of the theater, they saw a man, a thin man, dark, who rose a bow…

Something within the dusk shrieked; something unseen, as Laura didn’t turn back…dust flew around her, and…

Something cold brushed her leg, and she yelped; Manuel took her other hand, and the three of them charged out the door, charged down the street, not heeding the stares of the people around them. Pounding, breathless, taste of iron in her throat; they didn’t stop until they reached a small park, with a white post. On it was etched the letters

M

A

Y

P

E

A

C

E

P

R

E

V

A

I

L

O

N

E

A

R

T

H

in English, Japanese, Spanish, and Hmong.

They collapsed onto a bench; Manuel stroked her hand, before stopping to pull out his notebook and write WHAT DID IT SHOW YOU?

“You don’t want to know.”

“You should really tell us,” Eliza said.

“It showed me…a lot of blood.”

A street musician strummed an off-key guitar on the corner, warbling out something about his mother.

“Your blood?”

“No,” Laura said simply, and Eliza seemed to understand.

I WONDER WHAT IT WOULD SHOW ME… Manuel wrote. WHY IS IT TAKING PEOPLE?

“Did you hear voices?” Laura asked.

“Yeah,” Eliza answered.

“Maybe that’s why it wants us. It has some messed up chorus stuck in there and it needs a few members.”

DO YOU THINK IT WOULDN’T TAKE ME BECAUSE I’M NOT TALKING?

Laura shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Manuel’s eyes glanced around a bit, then he pointed his pen at where he wrote WHAT DID IT SHOW YOU?

Laura leaned in. “It showed me…it showed me being able to defend you two. It showed me me all transformed, and…” Manuel nodded, and Laura stopped talking.

“We should call the Doc,” Eliza suggested, pulling out her phone.

“She has a number? Aren’t you not allowed to use phones?”

“It’s some encrypted app.” Eliza stepped out to wrestle with her phone.

Malphas swept down and perched by Manuel. “Ah, not-a-wolf, you found your dear compatriot?”

WE DID.

Gef suddenly appeared on the post, and lunged off it, tackling Laura right in the face.

“Gef!”

“Hardly trying to maintain the facade, eh?” Gef hissed at Malphas and reared up. “Abandoning us again, you -!”

HE WAS LOOKING FOR LAURA. WHERE WERE YOU?

“I? Why, knocked out of Laura’s pocket I was, by the ravenous hordes of -” He groaned in horror. “Theater people. Nearly crushed me on my way back! They’ll never know what evil they abetted tonight, but the Devil will, I’ll tell you that much.”

YOU DON’T LIKE THEATER PEOPLE?

“Why should I?”

YOU’RE SO… Manuel paused his writing. DRAMATIC

“HOW DARE YOU! Betrayer! To think I rode on your shoulders!”

Laura knocked Gef off her face. “I’m feeling kinda shaky still, Geffrey, so…”

Gef scrambled up Manuel’s side and jumped into his bag. “Onward?”

Manuel sighed. ONWARD…:(

***

Eliza’s phone finally connected. “Doctor Sjöberg, we -”

“We’re on high alert,” Sjöberg said. “Nothing to be afraid of for you on the surface, but an alarm in the tunnel triggered and we have yet to clear it, and cannot come or go until that time.”

“Doc, the ghost hunt isn’t going well. The ghost is dangerous. It’s already taken people.”

“That’s…quite concerning. Miss Keita is on the surface, you should ask for her assistance while we clear this lockdown.”

“Jainaba? Doc…it already has her.”

“What?”

“It has her and one other person, we don’t know who that is. But…”

“Hang on. Do you have her number?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Let me contact her, then. See if we can still reach her…”

***

Singing and wind and emptiness, total, desolate emptiness, a quiet of the kind Jainaba had never experienced before, that you could never experience in the world outside the…outside the ghost.

All broken by the ringing of her phone.

She drew it from her pocket. Dr. Sjöberg. She picked up. “Doc?”

Static, and…

Beep beep.

***

“The Tunnels can’t help us,” Eliza said, putting down her phone. “They’re on lockdown. Sjöberg tried calling Jainaba, but…she says all she heard was this grinding noise, and over it some chanting. Not her, though.”

“She’s still in there,” Laura said. “I saw her.” Laura remembered Jainaba’s hoodie: the only touch of color in that horrible, gray realm.

“It’s on us, Wolfgirl. Unless you know anyone else who could help us.”

JESSIE? Manuel scribbled down quickly.

“I don’t…I don’t want to call Jessie,” Laura said.

WHY NOT?

“She’s. She’s still mad at us going off on our own with the whole black dog thing, and I don’t, like, want to bother her again…”

LAURA.

“I’ll call Jessie.” Laura pulled out her phone; Jessie picked up quickly. “Jess, uh, it’s Laura. We’ve got ourselves into some trouble and we were wondering if you could help us out.”

“What kinda trouble?”

GHOST TROUBLE! Manuel pointed at what he wrote.

“It’s, uh, there’s a uh, supernatural thing that’s…that’s really supernatural. Really supernatural and, uh, paranormal also. But not…we didn’t run off into it this time, you know? Sjöberg wanted us to go.”

“The ghost?”

“She…she told you about it? Uh, great, well, we’re downtown and the ghost is…the ghost is, uh…”

“Can ya put Manuel on the line?”

“No…why, though?”

“No reason.”

“Yeah. Well, we may be eaten by a ghost, and we were wondering if you could do anything to help us, uh, not be eaten by a ghost. Which, yeah, ghosts do that. Or…they don’t eat eat people, but, uh…”

“Where are you?”

“Downtown. Uh, State at Gilman.”

“I’ll be right there. Hold tight.”

“We may have to move to follow the ghost.”

“I’ll find you all. My nose is strong enough. Stay safe ‘til I get there, though?”

“‘kay.” Jessie hung up. “Jessie should be on their way.”

Manuel patted the bench beside himself, and Laura took that seat; Eliza continued to pace, Malphas perched on the nearby building. “Sorry if this gives you a bad impression of the Tunnels. I’d understand if you don’t want to come down here anymore…”

“Uh, unless you’re fighting ghosts every single night, I’m not gonna hold up tonight as representative of the whole.”

“I’d understand it, Wolfgirl. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“I’m not getting rid -”

“It’s a joke.”

Eliza paused, and laughed nervously. “If you have too much going on up here to join us down there, I’d…”

Manuel quickly scrawled something down. I’M VISITING YOU AS OFTEN AS I CAN :) 

“Good…” Eliza blinked.

The street musician on the corner strummed his instrument. “This is my ghost song, this is my ghost song, the song of the ghost that lives under a bank and the ghost is America…”

Laura, Eliza, Manuel, and Malphas all exchanged confused looks.

“The ghost is white, and the ghost is cold, and the ghost is -”

“Are you hearing what I’m hearing?” Laura asked.

“Extremely bad poetry?” Malphas cawed, and they went over to check on him.

***

7:45.

“My name’s Bezoar I.L.M. Zop-Zo.”

He had the same beard as two-thirds the men Laura saw downtown, and a striped shirt and plaid jacket. He slung the guitar over his shoulder as he walked.

“Wow,” Laura said dryly.

“It’s not even a stage name. My mom had a way with names. The kind of way that involves a wrong turn. You know what a Bezoar is?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“It’s a lump that forms in somebody’s stomach from all kinds of gunk. They used to think it cured poisons. I’ve got a song about my mom naming me that…”

“Oh...nice…so you saw the ghost, right?”

Laura thought Bezoar was telling the truth, but she still doesn’t trust him - and wouldn’t have gone after him alone, only feeling safe due to Manuel and Eliza’s presence - and while she thought Bezoar had seen the ghost, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t been too strung out to see anything useful about the ghost.

They passed back up towards the capitol.

“Last night, I was out presenting a heart-poem…”

“A what?” Laura asked.

“Oh, yes, I must illuminate. During the day, I do songs everyone knows, for money. At night, I perform for only myself. I let my heart’s verses sing free!”

“...oh.” 

“And then I saw it there!”

He pointed to the top floor of the State Historical Museum.

“Through the glass, shimmering bright! It assumed the form of cosmic dust, and I knew I had to follow it!”

“Why?” Eliza asked.

“We’re all stardust, are we not? I couldn’t deny a herald of the cosmic unconscious.”

“It went up there!” Bezoar raced around the Square, retracing his steps. “There! There!”

Laura wished he’d just tell them where it went instead of roleplaying every step. She followed him to the all-glass building, which was half a bank, and half fancy restaurants.

“The bank?” Laura asked.

“Yes. That’s when I knew this was no cosmic herald. For a herald of the divine to step into such a temple to avar-”

“But what did it do?”

“It went through the glass. It passed right through, and then it sank into the realms of Mother Gaia.”

“It sunk in? What does that mean?”

“It means it went right through the floor and into the Earth. I could almost see this light. Not the ghost’s, but these little wisps. More manifestations of false consciousness.”

“...yeah...so the bank is haunted?” Eliza asked.

“Aren’t they all?”

“Like, man, I agree with you, but-” Laura said.

“Unkkk!” Tendrils of light hung down from nowhere, and looped around his armpits. They lurched him upwards. Up, towards a storm cloud of dust in the sky above; up, with force and speed.

“No!” Eliza jumped up and grabbed onto one of his feet.

Laura tried the same. She couldn’t reach. She fell back onto the sidewalk, where Manuel caught her…unintentionally.

“Help me! Help!”

The dust swirled and came together and became the full ghost. Eliza held on tight, but it only drew Bezoar higher. She found herself lifting off the ground with him.

“Eliza!”

Laura ran over and jumped for her. Still. Too. Short.

Eliza let go. She tumbled to the ground, landing by Laura. Helpless, they watched as Bezoar was swiftly pulled to the ghost, kicking and screaming.

“What are you doing?” It was the cop from the park.

“Help! Help!” The sickening crack of ribs, and Laura and Eliza looked away as the void consumed him.

“Answer me.” The cop said. “Do you know these two?” She pointed towards Eliza.

“I...I…” How could Eliza explain?

The cop crossed her arms. “Can I see some ID from you?”

As Bezoar was pulled in above them, as he screamed and kicked against glass, Eliza dug around in her hoodie pockets for her ID. An ID she never, ever had. She realized that the ghost had moved in: it was all around them. Its hands high. It tilted its head. Studied the two of them as the strange farce continued.

“If you could do this quickly-” Laura said.

The cop glared. “If you won’t present your ID, I’ll have to take you in. Turn around and put your hands behind your back…”

They looked up. The ghost was moving in. They knew they couldn’t run. Not with the cop on one side and the ghost up above. They waited. Let the cop step closer, let her start her work…

She screamed. They didn’t look up. They knew she was kicking in the air up above, kicking as she was dragged into the void…

Laura remembered what she saw in there. Imagined Bezoar in that lifeless plain. Imagined Jainaba.

Imagined…the cop too, she guessed.

Imagined Eliza. Imagined Manuel. Imagined Gef. Imagined herself, fading to nothing over an eternity. No. No…

“Four.” A male voice growled. “Four!” A girl cried. “Four!” A boy joined in.

The ghost dived them: floating down from the sky, tendrils whirling. Laura recoiled; knew she couldn’t be suspicious. Tried to hold still. Tried, tried, really tried. Others passed by.

To them, there was nothing.

Down the street walked the archer, at a deliberate pace, walking around a girl who giggled to whatever she was listening to on her airpods; she had no idea there was a man next to her, a man raising a bow.

“Not yet!” the girl yelled. “Not yet!” “Give me time!”

The archer notched an arrow, but a pair of men passed in front of him; he lowered his arrow, but held his head high, aiming at the ghost.

The ghost crumbled into dust. The archer walked off, past Laura, Manuel, and Eliza. The archer was gone. Bezoar was nowhere. Neither was the cop. Laura, Eliza, and Manuel were alone, and nobody around them knew why.

[domxmarvel]

Not easy

Requested by:Anon

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader      

Words: 668

Request: Hello!! I hope your having a good day/night!! I was wondering if I could request a bnha fic? I was wondering how shoto todoroki would react if him and reader got into a fight. Like he was training too hard or got hurt in a preventable accident in a villan fight. Reader is just so worried and tries to let him know that hes not being healthy rn, but it was bad timing. When she confronts him he's tired from the day and sore and just not having it. It ends up in a fight and reader opps to sleep on the couch. This can end in angst with no resolution or fluff with them making up

It was the third time this week that you woke up to an empty bed,Shoto was already up. You could hear him from the training room,followed by the sound of wood breaking and snapping. You lingered at the door debating if you should confront him now or give him some time to calm down. Before you could make up your mind he opened the door,he stared at you for a few seconds. Neither of you wanted to be the first one to say anything,the room behind him was completely destroyed. He was angry at something but even with how close you were,he still didn’t openen up much. 

“Shoto” He tried to walk away from you,but you managed to grab his hand. “We can talk about it if you want” You carefully put your arms around his waist and lightly put your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you Y/N,but I just want to be alone right now” Loosening your arms,you kissed his cheek before letting him go.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything reckless”

“Promise” 

That promise didn’t last long,you both got called to deal with a villian and immediately Shoto started acting recklessly. Thankfully there were other heroes around to take care of this while you got Shoto away from the fight.

“What were you thinking? That was way too dangerous,you could’ve been injured” He didn’t answer you,in fact he stayed quiet all the way back to your house,only breaking the silence to say.

“I’m going to train” He tried to rush in but you grabbed his wrist before he could get far.

“No,Shoto, you've been training like crazy these past few days. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this,it’s not healthy you’re hurting your body and your judgment. What you did out there was way too reckless,you’re not thinking clearly. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on,I respect that but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re not just hurting yourself your hurting me too”

“You have no idea what I’m feeling or what I’m going through. You could never understand,so stop pretending that you know!” He shouted,you had no idea what happened but suddenly you were screaming at each other. You had enough of being yelled at and pushed past him,stopping to put on your shoes and grab your keys. “Y/N”

“I’ll be back later” You left,closing the door behind you gently. He’d probably be scared,you weren’t angry at him.

***

Your five minute walk turned into a four hour walk,you were just wandering around until nighttime. Shoto hadn’t even called you,so you didn’t realize how long you were out. You hoped he had time to calm down. Opening the door you saw Shoto sat down at the entrance with his head against the wall,he fell asleep waiting for you. Now you feel bad leaving him for so long. You couldn’t leave him there,his neck and back would hurt like hell in the morning. You shook him lightly to wake him up.

“Y/N” His voice was really groggy,he hugged you before you could say anything “I-I thought you wouldn’t come back”

“Shoto,I wouldn’t leave because of that. I wouldn’t just walk out on you. I was just worried about you”

“I’m sorry”

“Let’s get to bed,it’s pretty late” He was quiet until you were both in bed,he had his back to you letting you put your hand around his waist and pull him closer to you. “Shoto,I know it’s not easy to talk about your feelings but I'm always here for you. You’re my partner and I’m here for you through everything no matter how big or small it might seem” You moved closer to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Just promise you’ll talk to me if it gets bad”

“Thank you Y/N,good night”

“Good night”

[marvelandimagine]

I think some people mad about the arm is not necessarily about the fact that Ayo disabling the arm itself, it's more of the fact that it was not necessary and the fact that Bucky had no idea they can do that. If I were to be honest, I think it was not that necessary because Ayo is well capable of taking him down without having to disarm him and she is definitely not threatened by him. I think what some people find upsetting about that scene is the fact that it kinda comes off as Ayo putting Bucky in a position where it would make him feel like he doesn't have full control of his own body after all. The Wakandans, especially Ayo, T'Challa and Shuri had every right to feel betrayed and upset but the point is they should have told Bucky about how the arm can easily be disabled like that, they didn't know Bucky was going to set Zemo free when they gave him the arm and regardless of the things they have done for him and if they were ones who gave him the arm, they should have at least told him about it, because it's connected to him, it's a part of HIS body. It doesn't matter if it was necessary to disarm him or not, the point is they should have told him about it because apart from the fact that it's his body and that it was a bit insensitive given his history, it's also a point of vulnerability, and the fact that she did it in front of Walker (and possibly Zemo) --- people who can easily turn on Bucky, could easily that to their advantage and attempt to disable it themselves. Just my thoughts on it.

Thank you for sharing your perspective, anon!

I’m going to use this long-ass reply to address this stuff with Ayo and also voice some thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks seeing people paint Bucky into being this complete soft and harmless human that needs 25-7 protection which I don’t jive with — and this is me, a complete Bucky stan.

Many moons ago, I saw a post that compared 1940s Bucky moving with stealth and a loaded gun on the train to the Winter Soldier doing the same thing, essentially discussing the similarities and debating how much of non-brainwashed Bucky was in the Soldier. And I think the fandom forgets or chooses to neglect the following when painting him as this fragile, peace-loving guy:

Bucky was an incredibly skilled sniper in the United States Army. His job is to eliminate threats in the most efficient way possible, and he’s good at it. HYDRA gets their hands on him and + the serum, this gets magnified. It wasn’t like HYDRA turned him into someone with the ability and mental capacity to kill — that was already there. The brainwashing and torture just carved out the rest of him to leave those honed skills and an amplified ruthlessness with no moral issues, no sense of self to contend with. That ruthlessness is part of Bucky, whether people like it or not.

When Bucky is outside of HYDRA for the first time and hiding in Civil War and gets attacked, he’s so brutal in his actions that Steve Rogers, the man who literally was ready to die to save Bucky and free him when no one else believed in the good in him, intervenes because “Buck, you’re going to kill someone.” Bucky responds that he’s not going to kill anyone, but the fact remains: with or without HYDRA control, Bucky has a strong capacity for violence that hovers on brutality — again, what’s the most efficient way to eliminate or neutralize a threat? Like, I don’t want to kill you, but I’ll knock your ass out with cinder blocks to the chest.

Bucky has a good heart, he’s loyal, he’s smart, he’s caring, he’s the longest-standing POW in history and was turned into a slave for decades, put through unimaginable trauma and torture and horror with no escape. Bucky is also a strong and incredibly skilled super soldier who has a bionic arm, is a trained sniper, is unnervingly precise with knives, and self-describes himself as “semi-stable.” Zemo notes in the bar that “it didn’t take Bucky long to get back into form,” and he’s right because the ruthlessness and skill of the Winter Soldier is a part of him and always has been. We see it when he has his hand around Zemo’s neck and tells him he will kill him, when he rips the glass from his hand and throws it across the room.

And I’m sure the Wakandans know all this about Bucky, this light and his ability for hard-to-stop violence, whether from talking to Steve and Bucky or doing their own homework. And they still choose to help him out of the goodness of their hearts because he’s been put through hell and they believe they have the capacity to help him and it’s the right thing to do — they’re betting more on those positive attributes. And they put a failsafe on his arm, a literal weapon, and chose not to tell him. You know why I think that shows how much they did care about him? Because they could’ve blatantly come out and said “Hey, we don’t trust you,” and hurt him outright, but they didn’t because they’re betting on the light in Bucky to outweigh the dark or any future manipulation. That it’s a worst-case scenario function they hope to never have to use — so they’re prepared if shit hits the fan, and if it doesn’t, Bucky doesn’t have to be hurt feeling like he can’t be trusted. I see no issues here, they’re just being cautious.

Now coming to Ayo, my QUEEN Ayo. From that beautiful, beautiful opening scene, we get to see her support, her reassurance, her belief that Bucky will be able to work through this, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. She watches him fight and struggle and cry, and you can feel the hope in her and how moved she is when she gets to tell him it worked, he did it — he’s free. And she says it not once, but twice. And you can hear not just the comfort, but the PRIDE and warmth in her voice directed to him, who I’m sure she’s watched throughout the whole deprogramming process and gotten to know and is happy to see him work through the pain and come out on the other side.

And then she sees that same individual make a decision in freeing Zemo that she perceives as a “fuck you” not just to her country, but to her, someone who was charged with protecting her king. She could’ve just disarmed Bucky the second they met up, but she doesn’t. She takes the time to explain her side and her feelings, her guilt and her shame, and basically implies that she feels betrayed by Bucky because Wakanda helped him and now he’s doing something that’s hurting her country. And still, she doesn’t attack or just go get Zemo. She gives Bucky the benefit of the doubt and a whole 8-hour American workday to do what he has to do because again, she believes in the best of him. And then that time limit runs up, and he chooses to get in her way.

And that’s the final straw. She’s angry, she’s guilty, she’s frustrated, and she feels betrayed hurt by someone I think she did respect and care about, someone whom she worked with and helped and supported when he was his most vulnerable. Did she “need” to disarm the arm to fight Bucky? Probably not. But is she doing it in the heat of battle and adrenaline and a whole bucket ton of emotions, including what she sees as the White Wolf blatantly disrespecting her country and her as a person and even friend and she just says fuck it, I’m done? You hurt us and me, and I’m going to hurt you back? Oh yeah. And Bucky looks shocked, not because he’s a poor fragile baby and “oh no, my arm, how could you?? my TrAumA”, but in the dual realization of “oh shit, how’d you do that?!” and “oh shit, I think I crossed a line here.” And also, I don’t think a single person in that room would be able to recreate the disabling sequence other than Ayo — it’s way too targeted and specific for someone like Walker to pick it up in the whole three seconds it took.

People need to stop reducing characters to these black and white extremes of soft and hard, of good and bad. Doing so completely devalues and ignores the REALITY of the complexity of being human, and Bucky and Ayo are both great examples of that played by stellar actors who portray that range and depth extremely well. End of the day, my thought is that the failsafe in the arm was justified and people need to stop coming for Ayo based on this ridiculous narrative that Bucky is too traumatized and sensitive and too much of a fave to ever be challenged or he’ll explode into dust. Boy deserves a life of freedom and healing and mental health support, but he’s also still a formidable opponent with the capacity for violence and skillset to kill. People are more than one thing.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ~ 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

PART 3 OF 3 (my favorite part yet!!!!! so much angst and fluff and asdf;lkajsdg;lasagnas;ld) Please click [ HERE ] to be taken to the table of contents to read parts 1 and 2 if you haven’t already done so!

word count: 7.4k

a/n: phew we’re finally at the end! i’m so glad i decided to split this up instead of doing 1 long part. i’ll save my real a/n for the end so happy reading my loves! and as always:

When you opened your eyes a few seconds later, you smiled, realizing that it was a success. Because you’d never gone back further than 1970, a small part of you was expecting to open your eyes and still be in the compound.

Taking a moment to process all that just happened, a thought occurred. Sure, Peggy was expecting you at some point, but were you just meant to wait in her tent until she came back? She might be aware of time traveling, but you doubted that the whole camp was the same.

“I’m just grabbing some files, tell him I’ll be there in a minute!”

You turned around just in time to see Peggy entering her tent. When she saw you, she jumped a little, putting her hand to her chest. “I guess I should’ve expected that, they told me you’d be coming.”

You introduced yourself and gave her a long-story-short version of how your powers worked. When you explained that you’d have to be there for around a week, maybe a little longer, you also mentioned that you have limited medical training so if it’d be easier to have you pose as a nurse, you should be alright as long as you didn’t have to treat any major injuries on your own.

She agreed that was a good idea, then mentioned that one of their nurses actually just got transferred, so for now she’d help you pretend that you were the replacement.

“Let’s go and introduce you to Colonel Phillips. I’ve got to go and give him some papers anyway. And this way if he meets you for the first time and I’m there, hopefully he won’t corner you with a million questions.”

She quickly made her way to the tent he was in, and you had to speed-walk to keep up. When you both approached, Colonel Phillips was quick to dismiss the Corporal standing next to him.

“Last surveillance flight is back. No sign of activity.”

Colonel Phillips sighed, then looked behind Peggy as if he just noticed you were there. “You the new nurse?”

“Yes sir,” you stepped forward, hand outstretched, “I’ve just arrived.” He was a little surprised at how forward you seemed, but shook your hand nonetheless.

“I’m just showing her around so that she might become a little more familiar with the layout before she’s put to work.”

He looked at you, then back at Peggy, as if debating how much he could say in front of you. Ultimately, he must’ve decided that you could be trusted… or that he didn’t actually care if you overheard.

“Can’t touch Stark, he’s rich. And he’s the Army’s number one weapons contractor. You are neither one,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Peggy.

“With respect sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.”

Oh. You hadn’t paid much attention to the specific date you were now in, and were only just now realizing that this was right after Steve had gone to rescue James and the others at the Hydra facility, and everyone now presumed them all dead.

“—took a chance with you Agent Carter and now America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead. Because you had a crush.”

You noticed commotion outside of the tent. A lot of it. “Colonel Phillips?” When he finally looked at you, you pointed behind him at what seemed like every man at the camp, all running in the same direction.

As you followed Peggy, who was close behind Colonel Phillips, a smile made its way to your face as you realized you were witnessing Steve, James, and all the other men return.

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” James yelled out, causing everyone around you to erupt in cheers and applause.

You clapped along with everyone else, then stepped back, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. James noticed you standing behind Peggy, though, and his eyes went a little wide. He may be injured, and probably even a little delirious from all that he had just gone through, but he certainly wasn’t blind. You had to be new to the camp because he definitely would’ve remembered if he’d seen you before.

In all the commotion, you made your way back to Peggy’s tent, figuring that you’d give everyone a chance to celebrate the return of all those men. James tried to search for you in the crowd, but quickly lost you. Oh well, he would search the whole camp to find you later if that was what it would take. He had to learn your name at least.

Once things calmed down a little bit, Peggy returned to her tent with a nurses uniform for you to change into. When you were ready, you followed her to one of the larger areas that housed anyone who was injured. All eyes were on the 2 of you as you walked between one of the rows of beds. They stared at Peggy because she was undeniably attractive, and a lot intimidating. And when it came to you, they pretty much echoed James’ thoughts. You were beautiful, and they all wondered when you got there.

“Most of these men just need help cleaning wounds and putting bandages or wrapping them. The more severe injuries are in the tent next door,” Peggy motioned outside. “Will you be alright on your own for a little while?”

Part of you wanted to say no. But you suspected that she wanted to go pay Steve a little visit, so you nodded. As you introduced yourself to a few of the soldiers, occasionally cleaning cuts or wrapping injuries, you not-so-secretly hoped that you didn’t run into James. You didn’t know this version of him, and he didn’t know you either, but with the previous interactions that the 2 of you had, you were terrified that you’d accidentally say the wrong thing, and then this James would hate you too.

Luck wasn’t on your side.

“Hey doll, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Although this was a much younger version of him, you’d know that voice anywhere. Just because the James in your life hated you, you knew that this version still deserved respect. “Sergeant Barnes,” you turned around and forced a smile to your face, “I haven’t been around. It’s my first day, actually. But glad to have you back, you had a lot of people worried about you.”

“You here to patch us up?” He tilted his head, and you knew exactly what Steve meant when he told you about this James, how he was a bit of a flirt. His exact words had been he was the biggest flirt with pretty girls, but you didn’t want to over-analyze what his words to you meant.

“For now,” you spoke, and he walked beside you as you made your way to the back of the tent. “I’m just a temporary replacement. I shouldn’t be here more than a week.”

“That’s too bad,” He hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

Your interest was piqued. “Why is that?”

“It means I only have a week to get to know you,” he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything. This James was kind, he was nice to you. You felt sad for him, for all the things you knew he would have to endure.

When you walked past an empty bed, James stepped around you and flopped down on it, putting a hand over his mouth and pretending to cough. “Think I need you to patch me up doll.” That boyish grin was back, and you ignored the feelings that came with it.

“I— weren’t you and Captain Rogers brought to that other tent and taken care of right away?” You stood with your arms crossed, raising your eyebrows.

“Nope.”

“So that wasn’t you guys?” You’d seen him walking into that tent, so you knew it was him. But you wanted to see where he was headed with this.

He shook his head. “Sorry, must have me confused with some other guy. Although I gotta say, I’m a little hurt.”

This trip was going to be the death of you.

“Alright,” you grabbed a washcloth and quickly wet it, ringing it out as you made your way back to James. “Can you sit up Sergeant Barnes?”

“My friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh friends already, are we Bucky?” It amazed you that his confidence didn’t even falter for a second.

Hearing his name come out of your mouth was a sound he knew he’d never get over. “Of course we are. I’ve known you for a whole ten minutes, I’d say we’re practically best friends now.”

You shook your head, failing to contain your laughter. “What will Captain Rogers think when he finds out you’ve replaced him?”

“Captain who?” He shrugged again.

“Hold still for me will you?” You brought the damp cloth up to his face and began to clean some of the dried blood off.

“Anything for you doll.”

God the next week better go by fast, you didn’t think you could handle much more of him being nice to you. As you cleaned his face, Bucky closed his eyes, leaning back on the pillow and sighing with content. It had been a long time since anyone was this gentle with him.

“Are you alright Ser—” you stopped when Bucky opened one eye to look at you, “Bucky?”

He nodded, closing his eyes once again. “I’m better now.”

After you were done helping him clean up as best you could, Steve entered the tent, calling out for his best friend. He slowed his pace when he saw Bucky talking to you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Captain Rogers, it’s alright, we were just finishing up weren’t we?” You stepped aside so that Bucky could walk past you.

“Oh please, call me Steve. And it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

“If I call you Steve, then you have to call me by my first name,” you introduced yourself, and marveled at how he looked so different, yet also so similar to the Steve you knew.

Steve held out his hand, and after you shook it, Bucky jokingly punched him in the shoulder. “Alright back off will ya’ punk? Now what’d you need me for?”

“The guys were just asking where you were.”

Bucky was silently cursing Steve for coming in to pull him away from you. He was partly still stuck on the fact that you were only going to be there for a week.

“I’ll come find you later,” he winked before turning around and following Steve out of the tent, who also waved before leaving.

It ended up being a busy night for the men that returned to camp, and an even crazier next day. So it wasn’t until 2 days later that you encountered Bucky again. You’d just walked out of the makeshift ‘hospital’, and were heading back to Peggy’s tent for a much needed break. You were a few steps from entering when you felt an arm around your shoulders.

“Miss me?” Bucky grinned, already leading you away from the tent.

You hated to admit it, but you did. Your short interaction with him on the first day was so different from the interactions with James, the one you knew. You’d come to think of that man as James, and the one that stood to your left, as Bucky. He was so warm and friendly towards you. The worst part was, you couldn’t be mad at James for how he treated you. When you thought about it, with all that he had been through, you knew he must’ve had his reasons.

As you walked to wherever Bucky was leading you, you were both thinking of the fact that your time together was limited. You weren’t feeling 100%, but you were starting to feel a little better each day. And you knew that the longer you stayed in the past and got to know this Bucky, the more it would hurt when you had to leave and go home to the James that seemed to hate you. So last night you limited yourself, but you were a little selfish in giving yourself an extra couple of days. Today should make 5 days until you return home, but you stretched it to 7. You told yourself it was because you wanted to make sure you recovered properly.

“So where are you from?” Bucky finally broke the silence after the 2 of you had been walking aimlessly around the camp for a few minutes.

“Upstate New York,” as soon as those 3 words left your mouth, you panicked a little. You should’ve said another place, literally any other state than the one Bucky was from. Another tricky thing you hadn’t thought of, how to answer questions. You couldn’t tell Bucky that you were actually from Brooklyn, because you knew that’s where he lived too, and he’d surely ask for specifics if he found out you were from the same town. But why did you have to say New York??

“D’you work at a hospital there?”

“Am I being interviewed, Sergeant Barnes?” You laughed, wondering where he was headed with this.

Your question caused Bucky to blush. He didn’t want to admit that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he was constantly stuck on the fact that your time together was extremely limited. So if you worked in New York and it was somewhere near Brooklyn, it would be a lot easier for him to come see you whenever he was home. He thought to himself, I’ve only known this woman for a few days, what is she doing to me?

“Sorry if I seem nosy, just want to know how far I’ll have to travel to visit you when I’m home,” he shrugged, figuring what the hell, he might as well go for it.

If hearts could physically shatter, you were pretty sure yours would have done so right then and there. Maybe staying a full week is a bad idea. You know you’ll regret this, but you’re hoping it’ll ease some of the pain, maybe lessen the sting a little.

Before you can overthink it too much, you give Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek. “That’s very sweet of you, Bucky, and I would love for you to come visit me, but I’m a traveling nurse. I’m never in one place for very long. I… I won’t be back in New York for a long time.”

You’ve both stopped walking at this point, and you look down. Worried that he upset you, Bucky puts an arm around you and begins walking again. “Then I guess we’ll just have to spend as much time together as possible, won’t we?”

That’s exactly what the 2 of you did. You couldn’t neglect your duties as a nurse (even if you were technically just posing as one) so you spent at least a few hours every day helping to take care of the wounded men.

Since Bucky only just got back from basically being held captive and tortured, he was pretty much being given a break. Which meant his days were completely free. He never wanted to bother you while you were working, but once you were done for the day he’d be right next to you.

Of course, you worried about what to do and say when you had to leave. What if Bucky asked you for your next temporary address so that he could write to you? How were you supposed to tell him that once you left, you’d never see each other again? Part of you wanted to distance yourself, so that you leaving might not hurt as much.

But one evening when you were sat with Bucky, Steve, and the other guys and Bucky had gotten up to go get something to drink, Steve thanked you for being so nice to his best friend. He mentioned that he thought it would be a long time before he saw him smile like that after all he’d just gone through. So there was that, and the fact that you knew what he was about to go through, so if you could bring him even just a little bit of happiness, then you’d do it. Even if it meant breaking your heart in the process.

When you’re down to just 4 days left until you go back to your time, Peggy surprises you by telling you that you weren’t needed as a nurse anymore.

Seeing the panic on your face, she smiled and brushed it off. “Not to worry, you’ll still be allowed to stay here, but apparently the request for a new nurse was put in early, and she’s just arrived.”

“Oh, so do I—”

“Just focus on resting so that you’re able to make the journey home. And I’m not blind, go spend time with Sergeant Barnes.”

You sighed, sitting down at the edge of the temporary bed in Peggy’s tent. “Do you think I’m hurting him more, by spending so much time with him?”

She considered it for a moment before sitting down next to you. “You’ll be here either way, whether you spend time with him or not. I think it would be worse if you just ended… whatever you have with him, and then you were forced to see each other everyday. What did you tell him about you leaving?”

“He asked if he could visit me when I let it slip that I was from New York. I had to lie, I said I was a traveling nurse and am never in one place for too long, and that I wouldn’t be back in New York for a while.”

“I think whatever you end up doing will be the right thing. All that you’ve done, it’s a lot. And I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through and the decisions you’ve had to make. I’m assuming this is the first time in a while that you’ve had to relax?” When you nod, she continues, “and Steve has talked a bit about you and Sergeant Barnes, I think this time together is good for both of you. Before you go back to your time, and he goes back to fighting the war.”

“Doll? You in there?” You stand up and smooth out the dress that you’d just changed into before thanking Peggy and exiting the tent. When Bucky sees you, he can’t help but stare a little. “Wow, you’re beautiful.”

“You look very handsome Sergeant Barnes,” you smile, admiring his dress uniform.

“I thought about changing before I came to see you, didn’t want to wait. I just went to talk to some people about where we’re going next, had to look nice.” Before you can respond, he speaks up again. “Can I take you somewhere?”

You looked down at your dress, then back up at Bucky. “Should I change first?”

“No, what you’re wearing is perfect.” He holds his arm out, and you once again push away the feelings that come when you link you arm with his.

You walk just outside of the camp, and a little off to the side. He points just off into the distance, and you instantly see what he’s referring to. A soft gasp escapes as you approach the patch of flowers.

“Sometimes when I need to clear my head, I’ll leave the camp and just wander around. Not too far, but I found this area one day. It hasn’t rained much lately so I’ve been coming to water them once a day,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but seeing the smile on your face, he’s proud.

You bend down, gently running your hands over the tops of the flowers, soft enough that you don’t damage any of them. After a minute you sit, careful that you’re not actually on top of any. Bucky watches you for a moment. A week ago he had no idea you existed, and he already couldn’t imagine not knowing you. He still wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to you so soon.

After another moment, he joins you in sitting on the grass. He picks a handful of flowers and begins carefully weaving them together by the stems. Once he ties the ends together, he places the flower crown on your head.

(((okay so i know this one is complicated to make and it’s unrealistic that someone could make this quickly but i saw this on pinterest and fell in love with the thought. so this is what bucky places on your head 🥰)))

“Beautiful,” he looks at you in awe, and you’re blushing, thinking of the fact that it’s the second time he called you that today.

“You’re a man of many talents,” you reach up to touch the crown, heart swelling at the gesture.

Bucky gets a big smile on his face, “my sister taught me when I was a lot younger.”

Although you knew he had a sister, since you didn’t talk to James, this was the first time hearing about his family.

The rest of the day is spent laying in the small field of flowers, lots of laughter as you both trade stories about your lives. Hearing about how happy he was, and seeing how carefree the man in front of you is, makes you heart break even more for the one back in your time.

At one point, you ask if you should go back incase someone notices the 2 of you missing and gets worried, but Bucky says that he told Steve where he was bringing you. Eventually once the sun begins to set, you both stand up and slowly make your way back to camp. As you walk through, you realize it must be time for dinner since everyone seems to be scrambling around, and you hear talk of food.

Bucky puts his hand on your back as he walks next to you, and you feel yet another piece of your heart break. You know you can’t stay, but you have a bad feeling that leaving is going to ruin you.

The next day, Bucky ends up being busy for most of the day. He absolutely hates it, and spends a lot of time wishing that the work day was over already. The fact that you’ll be gone in a few days hasn’t left his mind.

You spend quite a lot of time with Peggy, and your heart aches at what she’s going to have to go through.

Around 5:30, Peggy is called away from her tent. You take the opportunity to change into one of her dresses that she oddly insist that you wear this evening.

At exactly 6pm, you learn both why she was called away, and why you had to wear the dress. As you’re walking and talking, you were so caught up in conversation that it isn’t until you stop, that you realize you’re in front of Bucky’s tent.

“Go on,” Peggy holds one of the tent flaps back, motioning for you to go inside.

You could cry at the sight in front of you. Everything had been pushed to the side, and in the center of the tent there’s now 2 chairs, and a table with 2 plates of food and a candle in the middle.

“What’s all this?” You smile as you approach Bucky, suddenly feeling incredibly shy.

“Hear me out doll,” he clears his throat, clearly nervous. “I know you leave in a few days, but the time I’ve gotten to spend with you has meant the world to me. The fighting, the war, it’s pure chaos. But getting to take this little break and just be with you, even if we don’t end up seeing each other ever again, I’m going to remember this time with you for the rest of my life. And I figured I had to take you on a date at least once before you go.”

Your eyes fill with tears, and Bucky steps forward, gently putting his hands on your face. You look up at him in adoration, and he swears he’d stop time and just live in that moment with you forever if he could.

“I don’t mean to upset you. I know our time is limited, so I just want to make the most of it. We’ve known each other nearly a week and I still haven’t taken you out on a date. Figured if it’s gonna be the only one, I’d try to make it perfect.” He pulls out a chair for you, and you again try to ignore the butterflies. You both know you’ve got less than 72 hours together, and you can’t help but wonder why he’s putting in all of this effort knowing that you won’t see each other again.

You’re both unaware of the effect tonight will have. After this Bucky falls and gets captured, he won’t have many periods of time where he remembers who he is. But during the few that he does have, he’ll think about this moment, and many others that he shared with you. And he’ll think about how maybe, if he makes it out of this, he can find you again.

Dinner lasts over an hour, you both laugh and trade more stories about childhood. You even hear a new embarrassing story that you can’t wait to tease Steve about when you get home.

Bucky bribed the chow hall to do something a little fancy for the 2 of you, and as you’re sitting there, it’s easy to pretend that you’re on an actual normal date, not spending your last days together in the middle of a war.

You think yet again how the James you know isn’t fond of you, but maybe when you see each other again, you’ll make more of an effort to be kinder to him. Even if he doesn’t want to talk to you, he can at least know that you’re there if he ever needs someone to talk to.

“I know it’s getting late, but I do have a couple more surprises before I walk you back to Peggy’s tent,” he smiles, getting up and holding a hand out to help you out of your seat. He leads you over to a corner of his tent, where for the first time you notice the small table that houses a record player on top of it. “I noticed one of the Colonel’s had this in his tent, guess it’s a luxury if you’re a high enough rank. Anyway, I told him I wanted to do something special and he let me borrow this for the night. I don’t know what record this is but I was assured that it’s perfect for a dance.”

“A dance,” you say softly, smiling as you watch Bucky nervously move the needle onto the record.

When the music starts softly playing, you both put your arms around each other, not so much dancing but more so swaying to the music. For the entirety of the first song, you’re both silent, enjoying this time with each other.

(((this is the song i’m imagining playing. i’ve referenced it in my other works but it’s so romantic and i just adgahsdg;asdfjasdg. it’s put your head on my shoulder’s by paul anka. i highly recommend listening if you haven’t before!)))

((((put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms baby, squeeze me oh-so-tight, show me that you love me too / put your lips next to mine dear. won’t you kiss me once baby, just a kiss goodnight maybe, you and i will fall in love / people say that love’s a game, a game you just can’t win. if there’s a way i’ll find it someday, and then this fool will rush in / put your head on my shoulder. whisper in my ear, baby, words i want to hear, tell me. tell me that you love me too / put your head on my shoulder. whisper in my ear, baby, words i want to hear, baby, put your head on my shoulder))))

You ‘dance’ to a couple more songs, and when the third song finishes, he looks down at you just as you look up at him, and you both know that he has to walk you back to Peggy’s tent or things might happen. And as much as you both want them to, the fact that you’re leaving soon is still heavy on your minds.

When you reach Peggy’s tent, Bucky gently grabs your hand to stop you before you can go inside. Of course you were going to say goodnight to him first, but you find it cute that he wanted to make sure.

“I know this may be too fast, but there’s something that I want you to have, doll.” He reaches into his pocket, holding something in his closed fist. “Every soldier is given two sets. And I know that when you leave, we’ll have had less than two weeks together. But I gotta tell you, even before the war, this has still been the greatest time in my life. Being with you, I’m able to just be Bucky and not Sergeant Barnes. You’ve helped me forget about the bad things going on. I know that come three days from now, we’ll never see each other again, so I want you to take a piece of me with you.” He uncurls his fist, and you’re met with the sight of his dog tags.

“Bucky, I— are you sure?”

He nods, fiddling with the tags between his fingers. “I know you see a lot of bad things too. Maybe if you keep these with you, when things are tough, you can look at them and remember our time together, when things were good. I know I will,” he pulls the ones he’s wearing from under his shirt, “knowing you’ll have the other set, when I look at them I won’t think of the war, I’ll think of you.”

You turn around and pull your hair to one side, and Bucky’s heart swells with pride as he unclasps the chain and puts it on you. When you turn back around, seeing James B. Barnes on a silver chain around your neck, he swears if the world ended right now, he’d die a happy man.

“Goodnight doll,” he steps forward, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I may be pushing my luck but do you wanna join us for breakfast in the morning? Steve keeps asking me about you, and I, uhh—”

He’s cute when he’s nervous, you think to yourself. Feeling a moment of bravery wash over you, you lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’d love to. Goodnight Bucky, see you tomorrow.”

When you wake up the next morning, there’s a pit in your stomach. Less than 48 hours before you go home, before you say goodbye to the Bucky you’ve grown quite fond of. Getting dressed in the morning, you smile to yourself as you put the dog tags back on, putting your dress on after. You don’t know if Bucky would be comfortable with everyone knowing he gave them to you, but you’re happy to wear them under your dress, sure that he’ll be able to tell.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror one more time, you decide good enough, and head out in search of Bucky and Steve. When you approach the tables where all of the soldiers are eating, you hear your name being called. Before you even have a chance to see where the sound came from, Bucky jogs over, having spotted you the moment you stepped into view.

He holds his arm out, “your breakfast dates await.”

“Just how many men am I on this date with Sergeant?” You laugh, seeing all of the guys not-so-subtly stop their conversations as you approach.

Steve is the first one to get up and greet you, and then you’re introduced to everyone else. Dum Dum Dugan, Jim Morita, James Montgomery Falsworth, Gabe Jones, Jacques Dernier, Happy Sam Sawyer, Pinky Pinkerton, and Junior Juniper. You’re told that you’re looking at the men that are the Howling Commandos.

Everyone is interested in hearing about you, and it’s not long before the questions begin. They’re innocent enough, simple questions like where you’re from, but you still feel terrible about having to lie. Steve glances at you, and sensing your anxiousness, moves the conversation to the mission that they’ll all soon be going on. When you hear mentions of raiding a train in the Alps, you’re filled with dread. Part of you is relieved that you won’t be here when the remaining men return from the mission, because you don’t think you could stand to experience the loss of this Bucky in person.

“You okay doll?” You snap out of your thoughts, and notice some of the guys looking at you with concern.

“Oh yeah, sorry I was just thinking,” you shrug, trying to play it off, “I’ll be doing a lot of traveling soon and I’m just planning out my trip in my head.”

Dum Dum perks up, hearing about what you do. “Where are you headed to next?”

Thankfully you rehearsed this in your head, knowing you’d probably be asked at some point. “I actually don’t know yet. I wasn’t even supposed to come here, really, I just know Agent Carter and she called in a favor for me to fill in until another nurse arrived. I might be somewhere on the West coast? Probably won’t find out until I’m already on the way.”

Bucky leans close to you, whispering, “remind me to thank Agent Carter for calling in that favor”.

The rest of breakfast goes by too quickly for anyones liking, and part of you finds yourself wishing for more time here. You know you can’t, though, so you’re grateful for the remaining 2 days that you have left.

It’s occurred to you, that there really is no rush when it comes to you getting back. You had warned Fury that it would be about a week in the past (so a little over 24 hours for them), but you could always say you needed more time to recover. But when you learn that the Howling Commandos are leaving for the Alps just 2 days after you intend to leave, you decide it’s a good idea to still go.

Bucky is called away to discuss the mission with the guys, so you spend a bit of time with Peggy. As you learn more about her, you see why Steve wanted to stay in the past and have a life with her.

When Bucky finds you later, it’s nearly 4pm, and he hates the fact that he pretty much lost the whole day with you. But he remembers how much you loved his favorite spot, so he takes you back to the flowers just outside of the camp.

The next couple of hours are spent trading more stories about your lives. Bucky mostly talks about before the war, and you love getting to learn so much about him. As he’s telling you about how awkward he was in high school, you were surprised. The man that sat as you laid down with your head in his lap was so charming and funny. You had a hard time believing that he wasn’t always like this.

“Trust me sweetheart, I may have carried myself with confidence but the girls seemed to see right through that.” He tried not to show just how happy it made him to hear you call him charming and funny. I only have her here for 2 more days, he kept repeating to himself. But who was he kidding, he was already attached.

The next day, AKA your final day before returning back to your timeline, you and Peggy discuss exactly when you’ll leave. It’s almost noon, and part of you is sad that Bucky has been busy all morning, but you can’t complain considering you’re still in the middle of a war.

“I think I should technically do it tonight, or really early tomorrow morning long before anyone even gets up. I can’t risk someone see me go into your tent and then never come out, I don’t know how you’ll explain that. I’ll sleep with your alarm clock under my pillow and set it for… maybe like three in the morning?”

Peggy nods, “I can’t believe you’re leaving already. It’s been nice having another woman around, normally surrounded by nothing but men. Will you be alright once you get back?”

You shrug, having thought about that last night too. “Unfortunately since not many people can do what I can do, it’s not an exact science. It’ll be a lot better since I spent time here and allowed my body to rest. Last time I traveled back and then immediately went home, it took me days to feel like my normal self again. I’ll probably still need time to rest when I get home but hopefully it won’t take as long.”

“Actually, you don’t have to worry about someone noticing you enter the tent and then suddenly disappear. I have a friend who owes me a favor and I think I should ask him to meet us, like you said really late tonight which will technically be early tomorrow morning. He can drive us somewhere else, that way the story can be that I dropped you off somewhere.”

“But, this friend. he knows—”

“About enhanced individuals? Yes, he was instrumental in Project Rebirth and was there when Steve was given the serum.”

(((hehehe guess whooooo)))

This surprised you, you knew there were only a few possible people that it could…

“Howard Stark?”

She nods, “have you met him before? You mentioned that the people you work with know him?”

“N-no, I just… I know his s—stories, I’ve just heard lots of stories about him that’s all.” You didn’t want to tell her that you knew his son, or what you knew about his untimely death.

“Oh, well I’m sure he’ll be very excited to meet you. I should go call him now, I’ll be right back.” She excuses herself from her tent, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

How has the past week gone by so quickly? It genuinely seems like you just got here. And now, you feel a little heartbroken yet again. You can’t stay here, this isn’t your time, the man you’ve been spending so much time with isn’t your James / Bucky. Even if you were to stay, you’d only get an extra 2 days with him before you’d have to watch Steve, Peggy, and everyone else mourn his ‘death’. And if you were to come back to the exact time you’d arrived, though it would be to this same timeline, you’d have to introduce yourself to Bucky all over again because he’d have no memory of you.

“Doll?”

You instantly perked up at the sound of his voice. Looking in the mirror, you quickly wiped your tears away and put a little more powder on your face. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been crying. “Just a moment!” You called out. After being sure that he wouldn’t be able to tell you were just moping around thinking about leaving him, you stepped out of the tent.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, ignoring his nerves as he pulled you into his arms for a hug. You weren’t the only one that was moping around thinking about your last day. He still didn’t understand the whole traveling nurse thing and why that meant you couldn’t keep in touch, but he didn’t want to pressure you.

“Thank you sarge, you don’t look so bad yourself. Actually, can you help me?” You held his dog tags up, turning around and moving your hair to the side while he unclasped the chain. That same sense of pride and happiness filled him when you turned around and he saw you wearing them.

“I know it’s your last day and all, and I was hoping to come see you earlier but I got caught up with stuff with the guys. Are you busy right now?”

“No, Peggy just went to go call Howard about picking us up but that’s not until way later.”

You noticed the sadness in his eyes, despite how much he tried to hide it. “What time do you leave?”

Now, you were unsure of what to say. What if he asked to come with you?

“I’m not exactly sure, I think pretty early tomorrow morning like before you all get up. Just so that Peggy can be back in time before the work day starts.”

Bucky was secretly hoping that something would happen and you wouldn’t need to leave just yet. One week wasn’t nearly enough time with you. And if you asked Steve, it was not-so-secretly. The other super soldier listened to his best friend mope almost every night after Bucky would walk you back to Peggy’s tent.

“Well since you’re free right now, come on, I’ve got lunch plans for us.”

“Oh?” You laughed, linking your arm through his as you walked to his tent. He stepped inside, returning a moment later with a picnic basket. “Managed to steal this from someone, and I bribed the kitchen workers for extra food. Want to go to our spot one last time?”

Hearing him say one last time made you sad, and Bucky immediately noticed the look on your face, so he threw an arm around you and began to lead you just outside the camp. “None of that now, we’ll make today one to remember.”

And the 2 of you did. He ended up going back in his tent for a blanket to lay on the grass, and then you 2 spent the afternoon making each other flower crowns, talking about anything and everything under the sun. There was 1 subject that was avoided, but you were trying not to think about that.

“I hate that time always go by faster when you have fun,” you sigh, helping Bucky put everything back in the picnic basket as you both decided to head back to the camp. Bucky mentioned that he had one more surprise in store. He wouldn’t give you any details about what it was, just that he’d pick you up outside of Peggy’s tent once the sun went down.

“I know sweetheart, me too. But the day isn’t over yet,” he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then grabbed the picnic basket with one hand, and held your hand in the other one. You looked down at your intertwined fingers, and felt sad for Bucky. You knew that nothing you did now would change his fate. And you couldn’t help but think of the fact that the very hand you were holding would soon be replaced by one made of metal. When he looked at you, you replaced your frown with a smile and were thankful that he didn’t comment on that. He must just think you’re sad about leaving.

As you made the very short walk back to the camp, Bucky asked if you’d like to have dinner with the guys one more time before you go. You immediately say yes, not only loving that you get to spend so much time with this Bucky and Steve, but you also love getting to know everyone else too. The Howling Commandos are legends, and it was nice to put faces and personal stories to the names.

Dinner ended up lasting over 2 hours, and you spent a lot of that time just soaking up the moments, already missing them as they slipped by. At one point Bucky put his arm around you and asked if you were alright. You assured him that you were, you were just really happy to be there with everyone.

Towards the end, everyone went around talking about the life they envisioned for themselves after the war was over. When Steve said he hoped to settle down, get married, and start a family, it was no secret who he was referring to even though they didn’t know each other that well yet.

“How long do you plan on being a traveling nurse?” Morita asked you. It was your turn now, and you felt a little awkward having to lie and say you didn’t know what life would look like for you since you’d be moving from hospital to hospital for quite a long time.

“Oh, I hope to be doing this for a while. It pays a lot better than being a nurse stationed at just one single hospital, so I’m going to do this for as long as I can and save up as much as possible. It’ll be crazy, moving around every couple of months, but hopefully the pay makes it worth it.” It went without saying that you wouldn’t be ‘settling down’ for a long time.

By the time everyone went their separate ways, the sun had already set. So you and Bucky parted ways momentarily, with him saying that he’d see you outside of Peggy’s tent in a few minutes.

You rushed to change into more comfortable, and warmer, clothing, and stepped out of the tent just in time to see Bucky approaching, with a blanket in one hand.

“Shall we?” He held his other hand out to you, and began leading you away from the camp. Instead of going near the flowers like you usually did, he walked in the opposite direction just a few feet away from where the trees ended. He spread the blanket out on the grass, and shyly explained he thought you might like to look at the stars together before you have to go.

For the first few minutes, you just lay next to each other, looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry I have to leave,” you finally break the silence. That one sentence has been on your mind all day.

Bucky rolls over and props himself up with his arms, and his face is now just inches from yours. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I’m really proud of you, you know? You’re going to leave this place and go on to do so many amazing things and save so many lives. Who knows, maybe we will get to see each other again someday in the future. But even if we don’t, this time with you has done more for me than you realize. If the time that I’ve spent with you so far is all that I get, I’ll still be a very happy man.”

Tears fill your eyes, and you force yourself to look up at the sky as you try to gather your thoughts, and think about how to respond. Bucky puts a hand on your cheek and gently guides you to look back at him.

“I’m sorry for making you cry again sweetheart, I just want you to know that it’s okay. The past week with you has meant so much to me. And sure, I wish we had more time together, but getting to be with you right now, that’s more than good enough for me.”

You’re still unsure of how to respond without breaking down and telling him everything, so you settle for turning your head and kissing Bucky’s hand. As he looks at you, he’s trying to memorize every single detail, but he already knows he won’t forget. He has a feeling that as much as he wishes it would end up different, that this will be the last time he gets to see you.

“You okay?” You ask after a minute. You’d turned back to look at the stars, but when you glanced at him again, Bucky was still looking at you with a small smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he nods, “sorry if I’m being a creep. It’s just from this angle, with you looking up at the sky, you have stars in your eyes. I like looking at them.” He has once again managed to leave you speechless.

After that, you don’t exchange many words. Bucky lays back down, this time a lot closer to you. You’re a little shy when you reach your hand out, but he notices and immediately takes your hand in his. You’re both enjoying these last moments with each other, so much so that it’s nearly midnight by the time you’re folding up the blanket and heading back to the camp.

When you reach Peggy’s tent, neither of you really know what to say. You can’t help but think this is it. I’ll never see this Bucky again.

Before his emotions get the best of him, Bucky drops the blanket at his feet and pulls you into his arms. He both loves and hates how it feels to hold you. Loves it, because in such a short time, you already feel like home. You make him feel cared for, and safe. But he hates it because he knows that he won’t get to do this again.

The 2 of you stand there for a few minutes, or it could be a lot longer, neither of you really knows. When you do finally pull apart, neither of you says anything at first.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you give him a kiss on the cheek. “This time with you has meant everything to me too. Life before this was really crazy. And I have no doubt that it’ll only get crazier from here. But you’ve given me memories and stories that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life. And if I’m feeling sad, or anxious, or scared, I can just look down,” you pull the dog tags from under your shirt, “and think of you”.

“God, doll, what are you doing to me?” There’s a very brief moment where as Bucky looks at you, he considers kissing you. But you’re leaving soon, and he isn’t sure how you’d react anyway, so he settles for one more hug before telling you goodnight and heading back to his tent.

As you listen to him walk away, it takes everything in you not to burst into tears. But Peggy is sleeping less than 2 feet away from you, and you don’t want to disturb her, or risk waking her and having her ask questions. What could you even say? By some miracle, you manage to fall asleep. You ended up staying in the same clothes, realizing it would be pointless to change into pajamas since you’d be getting up in a few short hours away.

At 4am on the dot, Peggy is gently nudging you awake. “I turned off the alarm, figured we could sleep a little longer. The higher ups usually get up around 4:45 to prepare for the day. I figured we should be gone before they even wake up, so Howard is going to meet us at 4:15 just outside the camp.”

You rub yours eyes as you nod and slowly stand up, taking your time as you gather your things. You don’t have much though, and in just a few short minutes you’re ready to leave. After changing back into the same outfit you wore when you first arrived, Peggy hands over a big file, and you begin to walk to where you’re meant to meet Howard.

As you’re exiting the tent, you laugh and admit to her that having spent so much time here, you’d forgotten about why you came and probably would’ve left the folder if she hadn’t just given it to you.

“Hey doll, wait up!” You both pause and see Bucky jogging over from his tent.

“I’ll meet you at the front,” Peggy gives your arm a reassuring squeeze, then continues on her way.

Bucky pauses when he finally reaches you, taking a few seconds to catch his breath. He actually also set his alarm for 4am, determined to say goodbye to you one more time. He thought he’d end up sitting around waiting until he heard you leave, and he didn’t think you’d be going until closer to 5, so he ended up scrambling to change and make sure he looked half decent before he rushed to meet you.

“Just wanted to say goodbye one more time,” he suddenly feels shy as he’s speaking to you. “And I know we said everything last night, but I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t do this before you were gone.” He puts one arm around your waist, causing you to step closer. The other hand, he rests on the back of your head. “Can I kiss you?”

Stunned into silence yet again, all you can do is nod. The kiss is sweet, and gentle. You get a glimpse at what it would be like to be with Bucky romantically. It pains you that you can’t stay, and that even if you did, you wouldn’t have a future with him.

“I know you have to go, but I just wanted to do that at least once.” He smiles, leaning down so that your foreheads are touching.

“Thank you, for everything,” feeling a sudden wave of bravery wash over you, you give him one more kiss. “This time with you has meant the world to me.” You pull the dog tags from under his shirt, and tap them. “Don’t forget about me, okay?”

“I could never forget about you even if I tried. I’ll remember you for the rest of my life.”

After one more hug, Bucky watches as you turn and walk away. He finds himself wishing for more time with you. As much as he hoped it would happen, he knows it can’t. Just before you step completely out of view, you turn around and wave to him before forcing yourself to continue walking. It’s only then that Bucky finally heads back to his tent, though he knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep.

You finally approach Peggy and Howard, the latter immediately rushing over and shaking your hand. You can tell he has lots of questions, and Peggy insists that you sit up front. As she gets into the back seat, she jokingly apologizes.

The journey is short, only 15 minutes. But Howard spends the entire time asking questions, and talking a bout what he hopes to accomplish in the future. At one point, he asks how you got your powers. You settle for telling him that you were experimented on. You don’t tell him the full truth, knowing nothing good could come from him knowing that the men who did this to you were trying to re-do Project Rebirth for their own selfish reasons.

He seems to just accept that answer, right away moving on to asking about what other powers you have. Once he parks the car, you raise your left hand, energy glowing around it a second later, and remove his sunglasses from his head and place them on yours. He looks like his head is about to explode. You remove the sunglasses and try to hand them back to him, but he insists that you keep them because “that was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen”.

After spending a few more minutes talking about the future (with you trying to be as vague and give as little details as possible), Peggy finally speaks u and says that as much as she hates to interrupt Howard’s intense questioning, they’d better go soon before the camp is fully awake in less than an hour.

She pulls you in for a hug, whispering that you better be careful. Howard shakes your hand again, and says that if you ever feel like taking another trip to the past, he’d love to pick your brain.

You smile as you look at them both, grateful you got the chance to spend time with them. After saying your final goodbyes, you take a few steps back, close your eyes, and concentrate on going home.

To everyone else, you were only gone just under 36 hours. And because you left in the evening, it’s now extremely early in the morning just a day and a half later. You were planning on heading straight to bed and finding everyone else maybe in a few hours after you had a chance to rest, but when the elevator doors open and you look up to see Bruce and Dr. Cho heading towards you, you weren’t surprised.

“We had F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert me of any activity on your floor,” Bruce says, knowing what you were about to ask. He puts an arm around you and begins to lead you towards the elevators. As Dr. Cho begins asking questions about how you were feeling and what side effects you dealt with when you first arrived back in 1945, you know you’re being taken to the medical floor of the compound. Bruce starts to say that he’s going to tell Fury that you can’t go back that far anymore, but you insist that you’re fine. And while it might be too painful to go back and see Bucky, especially since you’d have to go way back to before he met you, you think it might actually be nice to take a somewhat casual trip back, if only to let Howard quiz you about the future.

20 minutes later, Dr. Cho concludes her exam on you and determines that as long as you’re sure you’re feeling okay, all you should need is some rest.

Just as she exits the room, Rhodey enters and tells Bruce that he needs to run a few tests on you. You allow them to put a head piece on you and you lay back as he monitors your brain activity as he asks simple questions about your journey back. He then takes a few blood samples, and you listen as he and Bruce discuss what they might find.

You were a little groggy and maybe also mentally and physically drained, but that was to be expected. This wasn’t nearly as bad as when New Hydra forced you to travel for them, and you know that you did the right thing spending a week in the past.

Fury enters the room just as Bruce and Rhodey are wrapping up, and he asks for a moment alone with you. You hand over the file from Peggy, and he flips it open, looking at a couple of pages before closing it, satisfied with whatever he saw.

He then asks you a few questions, mostly things that Dr. Cho already covered. You’re surprised when he ends the conversation, telling you to get some rest, and that he has informed the team that you’ll have the next 7 days off to rest and recover before they’re allowed to send you on missions.

Same as when you spoke to everyone else about rest, you try to protest. But one stern look from Fury shuts you right up.

“You’re a valuable asset to this team,” Fury puts a hand on your shoulder. “We don’t want you going into the field too soon. Take a little break”.

He gets into the elevator with you, but stays on once you get off on your floor. You’re starving, but also exhausted. So exhausted, that all you can do is go directly to your room and throw yourself onto the bed that you’ve missed. When you glance at the clock, you see it’s nearly 6am now, and you can only hope that you wake up early enough that you’ll still be able to go to sleep tonight.

When you open your eyes again, the clock reads 2:05pm. Not bad, you think to yourself. You may have to stay up a little later than normal to ensure that you wake up at a decent time, but you’re just relieved the clock doesn’t say midnight.

Just as you’re about to exit your room and head to the kitchen, a flash of silver catches your eye in your mirror reflection. You’re still wearing Bucky’s dog tags, it hadn’t even occurred to you to take them off earlier when you first came back. Realizing that you’ll probably run into James today, you force yourself to take them off, setting them down on your bedside table. He’d probably hate that there’s a version of himself that would give them to you.

Entering the kitchen, you’re surprised to see him there. Usually around this time he’d be getting in his second workout of the day. But he’s there, standing by the stove.

You pause, unsure whether you should still make yourself something to eat, or go back to your room and wait for James to finish up. After spending so much time with the Bucky back in 1945, you know that he’s completely separate from the man in front of you. Still, you don’t think you could handle this version hating you.

“Have you eaten yet?”

It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s speaking to you.

“U-umm, no. I actually just slept for like eight yours,” you laugh nervously as you take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Someone mentioned that Wanda was going to bring something down, so I’ll just text her.”

“She already did,” he points to the stove. “Came by like an hour ago, I said I was sure you were still asleep so she just told me how to reheat this.” He scoops some of the pasta out of the pot, grabs a spoon, then slides the bowl across the counter.

What… is… happening? Is this version, James, somehow the same as the one you went to see? Why is he being so nice to you? But you were told that it was an alternate timeline, so…????

“This is probably going to sound really stupid. But do you… are you okay?”

He tilts his head, confused. “I… I think so?”

“Sorry. I just— I think this is the most we’ve spoken to each other in the entire time that I’ve known you. Not counting the grilled cheese fiasco, which I still don’t remember.” You desperately want to ask him why he’s being nice to you. But you’re worried that it would probably upset him, and even if it didn’t and he found out you spoke to a different version of him, he’d probably still have a lot of questions. “Anyway, don’t mind me. I’m just tired, think my brain may still be stuck in 1945. Thank you,” you slowly begin to eat the pasta, growing even more confused when James stays in the kitchen.

He desperately wants to speak up. Wants to ask how you’re doing, if you’re okay. And he knows you went back right before he went to the Alps and never returned. It’s on the tip of his tongue, did you see me when you were there? But before he has a chance to say anything, the elevator doors slide open and everyone comes rushing towards you.

Wanda is the first to greet you, saying she’s happy you’re back. Pietro practically shoves her out of the way and says that he’s even happier that you’re back. Sam rolls his eyes, but pulls you in for a hug, saying he’s glad you made it back safe too. At one point you make eye contact with Pepper, who mouths you okay? And you smile, giving her a thumbs up. Though you feel like you could still sleep for a full day, you’re happy to be home.

You spend a little time talking to (almost) everyone, and you genuinely appreciate how much everyone cares. Peter seems to fret over you more than most of them, asking if you need anything anytime you get up from the couch.

Eventually, Wanda shoos everyone off of your floor, insisting that you need more rest. James quietly slipped away to his room, and now just you and Pepper remain in the living room.

“I wish that he was here,” you say, wiping away a few tears. “Howard would’ve been really proud of him”.

It takes her a few seconds to realize what your sentence means.

“You saw— when?”

“Just before I came back. He’s actually the one who drove me away from the camp so that we didn’t risk anyone seeing me walk into a room and then basically vanish. I got to talk to him for just under half an hour. He actually asked me to come back to the past so that he could ask more questions about my powers and what I can do. But anyway, he talked about what he hoped to do in the future, and how proud he was of the work he’d done so far. And I think he’d be really proud if he could see everything his son accomplished.”

After she headed home to Morgan, you were unsure of what to do. You could’ve easily done what Wanda suggested and gotten more rest. But it was now 4pm and if you take another nap now, you might actually wake up at like 2am and then you’ll be wide awake.

Not really sure what else to do, after sitting on the couch for 10 minutes and not being able to find anything interesting on the TV to watch, you head back to your room.

Once you shut your door and turn around, your eyes immediately go to the dog tags on the bedside table. You pick them up before laying down on the bed, and your eyes fill with tears as you clutch the tags, holding them to your chest. A sob escapes, and you quickly cover your mouth. Just your luck, F.R.I.D.A.Y. would alert Bruce or somebody else about distress on your floor. You weren’t sure if the A.I. was listening in on private areas like bedrooms, but just to be safe.

You were unaware that the other super soldier on your floor had just exited his room. He wanted something to drink, and had just grabbed a soda from the fridge when he heard your sob. He wanted to knock on your door and ask if you were okay, but he didn’t think it was his place. After all, you talked to everyone but him when you returned, and you didn’t seem too keen on his company when he tried to talk to you earlier in the kitchen. When your cries didn’t continue, he headed back to his room.

This avoiding each other at all costs went on for nearly 2 weeks. For the first week, every night you cried yourself to sleep. Not just because you were tired, because you really were feeling better every day, but because you hated how you felt. Part of you wished that you hadn’t accepted Fury’s mission, or you wished that you had let one of the others on the team talk Fury into letting you sit this one out because you shouldn’t go back that far. Then you never would’ve met Bucky.

You kept thinking about how sad he was that you were leaving. And you replayed the memories in your mind over and over. Unable to keep your thoughts in your head anymore, you grab a blank notebook from your shelf and start writing everything down.

After writing about your ‘date’ with Bucky, you shut the book, unable to write any more. You realize that you’re not upset with James, really, you never were. But now having spent so much time with a version of him from the past, you see how happy he used to be. And your heart breaks, knowing exactly why he’s no longer that way.

But what are you supposed to do now? It’s killing you to stay away from James and not talk to him about the things past / alternate him told you. You know so much about him growing up, about his time in the war, yet you can’t talk to him about any of it.

Another week goes by, and Sam pulls you aside one night after dinner when everyone else has gone back to their floors. As you washed and he dried / put away, he asked you what was really going on.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you tried to shrug it off.

“Okay, I guess we’re playing the lying game now. I am not the most handsome man on this team. There, now I told a lie too. Now you wanna really tell me what’s bothering you?”

“How did you even—”

He shakes his head. “Ever since you’ve been back, something is off. You’re quiet, you stay in your room a lot more, and we’re worried about you. If it’s still the exhaustion from traveling so far back in time, just say the word and I promise I’ll shut up and won’t say another word about it. But I think something else happened”.

A tear falls, and you quickly wipe it away while using your other hand to reach into your front pants pocket and grab the item that you’d taken to carrying with you pretty much everywhere you went.

Sam takes it from you and turns it over in his hand, eyes widening when he sees the name on the dog tags. “Bucky gave—”

“Not him,” you point up, meaning your floor. “The Bucky from 1945. I should’ve avoided him, and Steve, too. But I was sent back the same day they returned and I guess Bucky saw me in the crowd so he found me later that day. I should’ve distanced myself, but he was so sweet to me. I almost stopped him and said he shouldn’t be, because there’s a version of him from the future that doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me.”

“Did he know you were from the future?”

“No, he didn’t even know I was enhanced. Only Peggy and Howard knew. But I spent time with him every day and on one of my last days there, he gave me his second set of dog tags. Said that he wanted me to have them so that when things get bad and he looks at them, he’ll think of me instead of the war. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with him. Yes, that Bucky Barnes wanted me to have them. But the— James, can’t stand me. And it has been the hardest thing going from what I had with Bucky to… this. Complete silence. I feel like I should give these to James,” you say as Sam places the dog tags back in your hands, “but then I’d have to explain how I got them and I don’t think I could take him being upset at the past version of himself because of me”.

Sam pulls you in for a hug, and you finally give in and allow yourself to cry about this, in front of someone else. “You should talk to him,” he speaks up after a moment. “I think maybe it could do the two of you some good”.

“What do I even say though? Hey can you please not hate me anymore?”

“I mean… why not?”

You roll your eyes and give Sam the look, causing him to back up slowly towards the elevators. “You gonna be alright if I head back to my room?”

“I’ll be fine,” you smile. “Thank you”.

“Anytime, I’m basically the best advice giver and listener on the team so, you know where to find me!”

You remain in the main living room / kitchen, head in your hands as you sit at the counter and try to think about what to do. You pull the dog tags out of your pocket, and think about looking at the stars during your last night with Bucky. You felt so peaceful.

That’s it, you think. Maybe that will cheer me up.

After making a quick stop at your floor for one of your thick blankets, you head up to the roof of the compound. Luckily it’s quiet, and there isn’t a single cloud in the sky, so you can see all the stars tonight. You hate that everything now seems to remind you of Bucky. Looking at the small garden on the roof, when you see the flowers, you think of him too.

Before you can think about it too much, you go over to the flowers and pick just a few, mentally noting to come up and plant some more soon. You go back to your blanket and sit down, carefully weaving the stems together just like he showed you.

“Oh, I didn’t realize someone else was up here.”

You were so focused that you didn’t even hear the door open and shut behind you. And you also didn’t hear James approaching. “Holy shit you scared me. Umm, I can leave though—” You begin to gather the unused flowers to put them back in the vase.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky interrupts you, suddenly desperate for you to hear him out. It has been torture seeing you avoid him since you’ve been back. You still don’t know that he knows… pretty much everything. “Please, you don’t have to go.”

Not at all prepared for that response, you sit back down.

“I know you think I hate you, but I promise you that I don’t. I just… I see how you’ve been avoiding me so I just started doing the same thing because I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable and I’m sorry if I already have.”

“I think you’re a little confused. You’re the one that hates me. Ever since you came back, at first you barely said two words to me. Then you weren’t at all subtle leaving the room whenever I entered, what else am I supposed to think?”

When your response is met with silence, you sigh. But before you can even stand up to go back inside, Bucky speaks up. “I fucked up. I was jealous of how close you were with Steve and I shouldn’t have… you didn’t deserve for me to take it out on you. I should’ve talked to Steve and told him how I felt, and you, too. I just… I didn’t know. I was here, then I was gone, then I came back and everyone said five years had gone by. I thought there was no way that was true, it had to be some sort of sick joke. But it wasn’t, and everything was different. I was jealous.”

“Of me??”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a seat next to you on the blanket. “I’ve done a lot of messed up things, I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. But I’ve been trying really hard to be a better person. I guess part of me is still convinced that everyone on the team hates me and only tolerates me because of Steve. So when I saw you, and you’d only been on the team for what, half a decade, and they already all loved you? I don’t know, I just— I know I messed up.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you say softly, looking down. “Do I wish that you had come and talked to me? Of course. But I can see why it would’ve been hard for you. So you don’t have to be sorry”.

“You forgive me?”

Still unable to look at him, your eyes remain down as you shrug. “It might take some time, but yeah, I do. I just… feel different now, about life, I guess. I don’t see the point in being upset at you, especially not when I now know why you’ve been acting the way that you have”.

Now he feels even worse. How are you so nice to him after how he treated you?

Knowing that you were probably a little uncomfortable like he was, Bucky tries to change the subject. When he sees the flowers you were holding, his face lights up. He takes a few of them and begins weaving the stems together, just like his sister taught him a long time ago. “I used to be really good at this,” he mumbles, finding that maybe he doesn’t remember how. But you can tell by him biting his lip and the look of determination on his face, that he’s gonna keep trying until he gets it.

“Didn’t she say you were supposed to alternate flower colors?” You freeze instantly, realizing what you just said. This James never told you that his sister was the one who taught him. Fuck.

“How did you—”

You quickly stand up, suddenly needing to go back to your room. “I’m actually feeling pretty tired so I think I’m gonna go to bed. Night James”. Without waiting for a reply, you turn around and head back into the compound, going straight for the elevators. Once you’re back on the fourth floor, you go to your room and shut the door. When you don’t hear James returning to the floor after a few minutes, you let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe he didn’t catch on, or he assumed that Steve told you. You’re of course unaware of the fact that Steve didn’t even know. After a few more minutes of debating on what to do, you settle for taking a shower. You really do still feel exhausted and wouldn’t mind going to bed early tonight. Plus, the hot water always calmed you down.

Although the rest of your body wouldn’t mind going to bed, your brain clearly didn’t get the memo. It’s now 11pm and you’ve been laying in bed wide awake for over an hour.

“If I’m going to be awake, I might as well get something to eat,” you mumble to yourself, finally getting out of bed. You open your door, and end up walking directly into James. Letting out a little yelp as you stumble back, he reaches out to steady you on your feet. “Wh-what are young doing? Did you knock? I didn’t—”

“No,” he shakes his head, “not yet. I was still trying to work up the courage to.”

“Oh… well… did you need something?”

“How did you know?”

You wonder if you should lie. “Know what?”

“Please, how did you know my sister was the one that taught me?”

There’s no going back from this. You’ll tell him everything, and he’ll probably get upset at the version of himself that was nice to you. He follows you to the living room, and you both take a seat on opposite ends of the couch. “You told me”.

“I— I told you?”

“Not you, I mean, Bucky in 1945. I saw y—him, when I went back. And he told me.”

“Was it actually me though? I don’t remember…” He looks away, trying to see if he can force the memories to his mind.

You shake your head. “No. It was a past alternate version of you, that’s why you don’t remember. When I had to go back to get the files from Peggy, it turned out to be the same day that you, Steve, and all the other guys returned from…”

“When Steve saved me,” he whispers.

“Yeah. I was stupid and I should’ve avoided everyone except Peggy, just kept my head down. But the first day I was there…”

“What did I—he, do?”

“Oh, nothing. He just introduced himself. And I tried to refer to yo—him, as Sergeant Barnes, because I was meant to be posing as a nurse so it was also as a professional courtesy, but he insisted that I call him Bucky because all your friends did, and he said that after ten minutes we were already practically best friends. I didn’t see him the next day but then I did pretty much every day after that, he was very persistent.”

James sat there, processing everything that you just told him. He doesn’t doubt it for a second, remembering how he was back then, he knows that’s exactly something he’d say if he saw a pretty nurse. “And the flower crowns?”

“It was like my fourth day there. He found me one day and said he wanted to show me something just outside of the camp. We sat by the flowers for the entire afternoon, and he made me a crown. I made one too, but mine didn’t look nearly as nice.” Though you’re not sure you can handle the answer, you ask the question that’s been on your mind anyway. “Are you mad?”

“Mad?”

“That I spent so much time with a past version of you.”

“Why would I be mad?”

You hadn’t really planned on having this conversation tonight, but here it is. “Because you—”

“I thought you were scared of me, now, after I was an asshole to you. I swear to you doll, I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever did. I was just mad, and confused, at the world, really. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. And like I was trying to explain earlier on the roof, I’m trying to be a better person and make amends for the things I’ve done wrong, the things the Winter Soldier did. You’re the first person I want to apologize to, because you didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you when I first got back. So I’m sorry.”

“You’re not him.”

“What?”

“You’re not the Winter Soldier. You weren’t in control, HYDRA was. You don’t have to apologize for the things he did, because you had no say. I— how much do you know, about me?”

He knows exactly what you’re referring to. But it wasn’t a conversation he was meant to hear. “I know that Steve and Natasha rescued you, and that you’ve stayed with the team ever since…” He trails off, not really sure what else to add.

“That’s true, but there’s a lot more to it than that. I think part of the reason that Steve and I grew so close was because of where he found me when I was rescued. I don’t know if they told you because the program got shut down, the members are all either dead or they’ll be in prison until they are dead. But I was with New Hydra. I was the first new Winter Soldier. I was with them for less than a year, but I remember a lot. They didn’t always put us in cryo after missions. I blamed myself, for a long time. I even told Steve, and my therapist, and anyone who tried to comfort me. I may have been in Winter Soldier mode, but it was still me that did those things. The blood was, and still is, on my hands. It’s only during the past couple of weeks that I’ve been realizing that it’s not true. And maybe a part of me will always still blame myself for the things they made me do, for the person they tried to turn me into. But I’m working on getting better, working on seeing that it wasn’t my fault.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you reach out and wipe away the tears that had fallen. It was almost like a reflex, you didn’t even think about doing it. When you pull your hand away, he almost wants to reach out and grab it.

“Sorry,” you look down at your hands, “but I don’t think you have to make amends for anything. I think it would be good to forgive yourself, you didn’t do anything wrong”.

Somehow the words carry more weight when you say them. You understand more than anyone. So maybe if you say he should forgive himself…

“But adding on to what I was saying, I think part of the reason that Steve and I got so close, was because I reminded him of you. He felt bad that he didn’t find you and save you sooner. One night I let it slip that I was scared that they were somehow going to come and find me and take me again, and he swore he wouldn’t ever let that happen. I don’t think he meant to replace you, and I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. ” Now it’s your turn to wipe away your tears. “God, you think I’d be done crying about all of this every night by now.”

“Am I the reason you cry every night?” James didn’t think it was possible to feel any more guilty, until he heard that.

“No, no. I just— not you. It was hard, feeling like I lost a big part of Steve when he went back to be with Peggy. Then to come back and think that you hated me. And then spending time with an alternate you and having to come back and pretend like nothing happened because I know it wasn’t actually you.” Although you don’t want to part with them, you slowly pull the dog tags out of your pocket and hold them out to James. It doesn’t feel right to keep them anymore.

“When…?”

“One of my last nights there.”

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “What did he say, when he gave them to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, but you should have them back—”

“Please,” you hear the desperation in his voice again. “It does matter. What… what did I say?”

You look up and blink a few times, willing the tears to go away. “It was right after we had dinner,” you decide to leave out the part about it being a planned date, “we had just walked back to Peggy’s tent and he—you, said that I should keep these because just knowing that I have the other set, when you look at yours you won’t think of the war, you’d think of the time you spent with me.”

James puts a hand on your cheek, and you find yourself leaning in to his touch. “God, I wish I could remember. I wish that was me and that I had those memories of you to get me through… all of it. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I like who I was back then a lot better than who I am now. And I’m sure it’s a little disappointing to come back to, well, me.” He moves his hand and shrugs, trying not to seem as upset as he actually is.

“I’m not sad because I’m disappointed. I could never be disappointed at you. Knowing what you’ve been through, it’s understandable that you’re not the same person that you were before. Like I mentioned before, it’s just hard to separate who I spent time with in 1945, versus now because you don’t see me the same way. And I was sad because, I don’t know, I… don’t want to make you feel like you have to be my friend.”

Letting out a chuckle, James runs his hand through his hair. “I’m terrible at this. I’ve wanted to be your friend, for a while now. I just didn’t know how to show it. My first official mission with the team, I don’t think anyone had seen me that nervous in a long time. But it wasn’t because I was worried about the mission, or getting hurt. I was worried about you getting hurt. Didn’t show it so well though because then the next week you were already going back to 1945 and you overheard me and assumed I was trying to sabotage you. But I wasn’t, I swear. I don’t know you that well, and I know that’s my own damn fault. But you’re someone important to Steve, and that was enough for me to want to protect you. Do you— do you think we could start over? I know it might be hard considering how I treated you before but I really do mean it, I want a shot at friendship with you.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but he was also thinking and maybe something more in the future. Now that he knows there might be a chance, if you liked past him. “Can we go somewhere?”

You follow him to the elevator, and end up on the roof again. Sitting next to each other on the blanket, you watch as he picks up the flowers and once again begins to weave the stems together. Just a few minutes later, he’s finished. He stands up and goes behind you, telling you to close your eyes.

“Why do I need to close my eyes?”

“Just trust me. It’s a crowning ceremony and right now it’s imperative that you close your eyes.”

“Wow imperative. Big word.”

He tries, and fails, to hold back his laughter. “Alright doll is this what friendship with you is like? You know what, don’t answer that. Just humor me and close your eyes please.”

You close your eyes, expecting to feel the weight of the flowers on your head. But instead, you feel something around your neck. Instantly, you open your eyes. He gave you the dog tags.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to. I may not be the same as the Bucky you met back then, but I remember the war like it was yesterday. You helped that version of me through a really tough time. In… I guess in this timeline or reality, after Steve rescued me I was a mess, and I just moped around. The fact that there’s a version of me out there that instead spent the next week laughing and talking, and spending time with a beautiful woman, even just the thought means a lot to me. You gave that to me. And you should keep these. He’d want you to, and I do too.”

Before you can think about it too much, and change your mind, you stand up and throw your arms around him, feeling relieved when he returns the gesture. For you, this feels familiar. A different body, but still the same sense of peace, and calm. For James, it’s different. He isn’t used to people being affectionate towards him. The first few times Steve gave him a hug, he had to do everything he could to not tense up and immediately pull away. But it feels right when you’re in his arms.

“Now,” he bends down and gets the flower crown, placing it on your head. “There we go. This must feel like deja vu for you, huh?”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling as you reach up to touch the flowers. “I think I like this version better.”

Having actually talked to you and spent time with you, it’s easy for James to see how he could fall for you. “Besides, you know… how are you actually feeling? That’s gotta take a toll on you, going back so far.”

“It took about a week for me to be feeling completely back to normal, but it’s fine. I’d rather use my abilities to help the team than what I was forced to do before, so… I don’t mind.”

Seeing how much you care for everyone, it worries James. “Maybe you could speak to Fury about not making you go back that far though. What if something happens or one day you can’t stay in the past that long?”

“I— I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t know what’ll happen, but the Avengers saved my life. Well technically Steve and Nat did, but, you know what I mean. I owe them everything, the least I could do is whatever they need.”

James takes one of your hands in his, and slowly shakes his head. “Not if it comes at the expense of your life. I know we’re just now starting to actually become friends, but I care about you. A lot. And I don’t just mean to make it about me, what all of us would do? Yes your powers are a big help, but it’s not worth it if it hurts you. You have to be careful”.

“I know, and I will, James, I promise. I’ll talk to Fury, maybe I only go back that far if I have to see Peggy or Howard, someone who knows.”

“Why do you call me James?”

“Now it’s just a habit, I guess. Remember I didn’t exactly think we were friends, and only friends call you Bucky.”

He looks down for a moment, then back up to you. “My ma was pretty much the only one to ever call me James. I kinda like how it sounds when you say it.”

“James,” you say softly, and when he smiles, you find yourself slowly falling for this man. You get a glimpse at who he was in the past, and feel lucky that he’s opening up to you like this.

“Quick look up,” he points, and you glance up just in time to see a shooting star go by.

“I’ve never been able to actually see one in person before!” You close your eyes and make a wish in your head.

“Well don’t keep me in suspense, what’d you wish for?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t tell you that or it might not come true.”

“Do I get a hint?”

You don’t tell him that your wish was about him. “I think— it will come true one day.” You wished that he’d one day be truly happy, and be able to see that he doesn’t need to apologize for the actions from his past. You know that he’s a good person, and you wished that the world would see that too. “I have something on my face?” You laugh, laying back down on the blanket. You could somehow sense that he was looking at you.

“Sorry I don’t mean to stare. Just, from where you are right now, you have stars in your eyes. I like looking at them.” As he looks at you, admiring the sky, he feels it. For the first time in a long time, he feels safe. This sense of somehow knowing that whatever happens, he has you in his life now, and it’ll all turn out alright.

thank you sooooo much to @cryonme​ for hosting the writing event (and also sorry it took me 1000 years to post asdfhasdg). to everyone who had read to the end, THANK YOU TOO!!! if you enjoyed this mini-series, click [ HERE ] to check out my masterlist of all other works, as well as my reading recommendations! and click [ HERE ] to check out my WIP’s, and maybe let me know which ones you’d like to see first! thank you thank you thank you to anyone that followed along on this emotional rollercoaster. that was the finally part, and i hope you enjoyed! feedback in the form of likes / comments / re-blogs are very much appreciated! ALSO i’m not sure if anyone would be interested in a sort of continuation of this? i just had some thoughts about the beginnings of your friendship / eventual relationship with james, given the ending :)

[mrpenguinpants]

Razor:  Jealous HCs

Hey anon!! As much frustration I hold for crippling oblivious couples, I also love the trope so much. Plus I adore Razor. Even though I try to not call Razor a dog, I still google “jealous dog traits”. Also, I found out both Hanniejji and I secretly HCs Bennet is friends with Razor and Fischl. If genshin won’t give me character interactions then I’ll write it myself.

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Semi Part 1: General HCs

Semi Part 2: Pre-Relationship HCs

Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @ aanne2601 @hanniejji​

Razor:  Jealous HCs

Bennet and Fischl are both foaming at the mouth at how deeply in love you BOTH are and yet you’re both equally blind. Fischl wants to grab you by the shoulders and yell at you that Razor returns your feelings and you need to stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. A sad Razor looks like a kicked puppy and even she can’t handle it. But Razor absolutely refuses for anyone to confess for him because he believes that you might just genuinely be uninterested in him. Plus, it wouldn’t feel right if he couldn’t confess himself. It’s his first love, this is important to him.

Bennet thinks it’s really sweet that his friend is in love. Even if he does get a bit pouty that whenever he get’s hurt, Razor will ask if he’s alright and leave it at that. But if you accidently trip Razor is already at your side and fussing over you. Bennet uses this as physical proof that yes, your feelings are returned and this man is in love with you, but you always brush it off as Razor’s nature to be caring. He’s smiling patiently on the outside but on the inside he has his hands in his hair and he’s screaming.

God forbid anything upsets you. Razor hasn’t been around other humans long enough to pick up on most social cues but he does have a good sense of smell. If you’re happy then the wind smells like sweet flowers. If you’re upset then it smells like mint. While Razor usually keeps himself in check and is somewhat indifferent, the second he catches any signs of distress from you he’s on high alert. Until you tell him what’s been bothering you - a group of hilichurls stole your bag of snapdragon flowers - he’s going to be on guard and stressed out. He’s already throwing his claymore over his shoulder to go and fight the monsters that tried to upset you. Wow, what a good friend you say to Fischl. Fischl is ready to punt you off a cliff.  

Razor tries his best to show that he likes you by bringing the things you need and looking like such a proud pup. He looks at you with such hopeful eyes that it takes you a second to register what he’s asking before you feel your own heart rate speed up and pound into your ears. You flush pink before you move to embrace him and ruffle his hair as praise as he nuzzles into your shoulder affectionally. You assume his affectious actions are apart of his wolf nature and how they act so you try not to read too deep into things. Even if Razor seems a bit too happy to be hugging you and receiving pets. Or the fact he doesn’t let anyone else pet him...

Bennet tries his best to help his friend out by giving Razor some advice but considering Bennet himself hasn’t been in a relationship yet, it’s all practical. Telling Razor that he’s seen couples bring each other flowers as a sign of affection, maybe Razor could find some plants to bring you? It ends horribly when he offers you a wolfhook and you just stare at him. He says that these are his feelings towards you but you’re just...so confused?? Wolfhooks have thorns so does that mean he thinks you’re clingy? Isn’t that a bad thing? Are you annoying to him?? But wolfhooks also symbolize wolves so is he saying you’re like family to him??? You’re internally screaming while debating if you just got family-zoned or if Razor is trying to subtly tell you that he doesn’t like you.

Just because Razor is, somehow, unsure if you actually like him or not. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get incredibly jealous and possessive at any unknown presence. He’s still a bit wary of the City due to all the conflicting smells and noises but he can’t help but look so sad when you have to run errands and you can’t visit him. But when you mention that a really nice knight gifted you a flower does Razor see red. He gave you a flower?? Shouldn’t you be happy with his? Why do you need another one when you have his? Is his gift not good enough? Is this your way of saying you’re interested in someone else? This poor boy is on the verge of either running off to go sulk or find the man that gave you this flower, which up until his knowledge - courtesy of Bennet - is a sign of courting, and absolutely destroy him to prove he’s the better partner.

He tries to keep it under wraps since he's been told that while in the City, he needs to exercise restrain and understand that if he enters. He's expected to at least respect the laws and people. But this poor wolf is so feral over this new development and this new smell that's been clinging onto you that whatever worries and isolation issues Razor felt about the city flies out the window as his protective instincts kick into overdrive. He sees other people and even pets as a rival for your attention and love. He just wants to scoop you up and growl at everything as a message to say “this is mine, go get your own”.

Even when the both of you are far away from the city, Razor’s continued mood seems to hang heavy over both your heads. You’re not sure what exactly caused Razor to be on high alert. He’s snapping and growling at everything little thing that comes close, even a butterfly!

You abruptly stop walking to Razor’s surprise as you whip around and frown at him. He can feel a chill run up his spine as he stands perfectly straight as you study him before you hold your palm out and looked at him expectantly. He looks at your hand with a small spark of perked attention before his nose twitches and he goes back to sulking. You’re still waiting for him as he shuffles a bit, his hair that resembled a wolf ear is twitching, before he whines and trots over and places his chin on your palm. He’s looking up at you with the most kicked puppy expression and you don’t even know what you did but you feel like the worse person in all of Teyvat.

“Razor...what’s gotten into you?” you ask gently as you rub circles into his cheek as he nuzzles into your palm. He seems really conflicted as his eyes dart away from your face and he almost looks guilty. He just whines and turns and buries his face into your warm palm. You’ve never really seen him like that before as you awkwardly try and comfort him. Until the same flower slips out of your pocket and you hear something primal growl out of Razor. His teeth are pulled back and he snarls at the flower as his pupils dilate. You quickly get between him and the poor flower before Razor tries to do anything.

“Seriously Razor, what’s gotten into you?” you asked concerned. He quickly shifts his attention to you as he pounces and knocks you over. You left off a soft noise as the wind get’s knocked out of you but you peep when his hands cage you from above. Razor’s red eyes bore into yours and you’re suddenly thinking the air is getting too hot. 

“Do you like Razor?” he asks, tilting his head in a cute pout. It makes you internally coo before you quickly snap out of it. Stay focused! 

“Of course I do! Remember we talked about this?” you say as you remember back to your previous interactions but this only seems to frustrate Razor more.

“No. Not that like. More...” Razor struggles with his words as he tries to piece together the right string of sounds to try and convey what he’s feeling. He seems so conflicted that it breaks your heart a bit. So you reach up and gently rub behind his ear as he closes his eyes and relaxes. He breathes in deeply as his eyes open and his pupils return to normal, but vastly determined.

“Together. Always. Just...us,” Razor says softly as he looks at you hopefully. There’s a small pink dust to his cheeks as his fang digs into his lip in nervousness. You’re not sure why but your heart absolutely sky rockets at it and you can feel your face flush pink.

“Um, yes?” you nod along, you think you’re understanding what he’s trying to say. Maybe he was just upset you were spending so much time in the City and away from him that he felt your friendship was neglected? That would make you really upset. But the way he phrases his words makes you believe that perhaps...

Before you can think more on it. Razor’s face breaks into a grin that nearly blinds you from the pure affection that sprouts from it. He’s already hugging you harder as he starts rubbing his nose and cheek against your neck. Making soft and happy sounds as he nuzzles you. He’s never done that before but you assume he’s just so happy. You breath a sigh of relief that it appears that your message to him was clear enough.

Yeah of course, friends always, you think

Lupical. Partner. Mate, Razor thinks.

---

whistling as I pretend I don’t see your stares. Yeah ik but it’s ok. This is a sorta semi series. We’ll build upon it. But Xiao content is next lol. I’m taking inspiration from this. I mean, when I don’t feel like shit 😷

I’ve been listening to [  Softy - Dear Moon ]. This isn’t the usual kind of music I listen to but it came on shuffle and this is now my mental breakdown song.

Quick edit: Turns out this is an ost from “My Mister”. I’ve never been into kdramas (I think I’ve only seen goblin, she was pretty, and Hwarang) but the cover picture looks so upsetting? My friend is really into tgcf and I believe that had a live action as well. 

[pastxlscorp]

Tokrev bfs taking care of their s/o when they’re sick

Featuring: Chifuyu, Mitsuya, Mikey, and Draken

Chifuyu:

100% will get sick with them because he’s a fucking lovable dumbass

Slurping soup while watching their favorite show

Fangirling over manga chapters together

Tissue boxes. Everywhere.

Their friends come over to see them cuddling on the couch wrapped in a blanket bc they’re both sick and don’t give a fuck

Catching up on schoolwork together, both wondering how they missed so much

Actually both take medicine but relish in suffering together

Spend the whole time quarantining and trying new recipes and cooking, mainly being geeks abt manga though

Mitsuya

Takes care of them but tries not to risk himself too much, not for his sake but the sake of his sisters

When he’s not busy with the gang or his sisters, he comes over with his homework and does it as they're napping or dying

Absolutely the type of bf to leave their s/o on read as they rush their way over, making their s/o sit there like “this b**** didn’t reply?”

Massages to make them feel better, even something simple like rubbing their back

ALWAYS comes over with medicine, homemade food; and something to cheer them up like a really corny movie or their favorite book. Will literally even sit down to play video games with them if it’ll make them happy (not really a game kinda person).

He calls his sisters who ask him how his s/o, when they reply they get really happy and excited, asking when’s the next time they can play.

If he’s busy, will still come over to drop off food, medicine, n whatever else he brought. Knocks on the door mad hard and smiles when they open. The type of mf to knock so loud and hard just to annoy their s/o bc he loves seeing them angry.

REALLY upset when he can’t kiss them or anything. Will try to kiss on the cheek before dropping off their stuff only to be turned down and he gets all childish like “You serious? Not even on the cheek?”

I think he’d be the most mature pettiest asshole here. You don’t give him ANY physical love, even something as simple as a hand hold, he will be so petty the next time he drops off homework.

He’ll be sitting there on the couch doing his homework and they’ll be reaching for him because they’re lonely and he’s just like “Oh, you want a hug? That’s too bad, I’m quite busy.” with the straightest face until they’re begging for a hug and then he’s finally like “maybe I can spare a minute.”

Tucks you in for bed and leaves you with a goodnight kiss, box of tissues, and a plushie.

Best solution: don’t engage when he’s being petty. Ends up getting tired of his isolation and ends up being the one to crack first.

Mikey:

Draken refuses to let him skip for his s/o, mainly because school is SOOO important to him and Mikey is his best friend

Does his best to stay awake till the end of the day so he can go straight over to his s/o’s place

Same as Mitsuya but an even worse texter. Prefers physical interaction and 80% of the time you will be left on read. For Mitsuya, it’s a solid 50/50.

Tells them about how school went, how he slept through almost everything, how draken was being a prick, yeah…

Love language is food: brings so much food over to your house. Medicine included once draken reminds him.

Shares food with you ALL the time and somehow doesn’t get sick. I’d like to imagine with all the shit he does, his immune system surpasses his kick.

Never does his homework when they’re around, prefers to spend time eating with them and playing games or whatever

Not as passionate about video games and manga and shit, but loves seeing them feeling better

Insists you’re too tired to do homework, truthfully he just wants their attention but doesn’t want to sound so needy when they’re sick

Won’t feed you but makes you feed him to cheer him up, probably bc he knows he’d make a mess feeding you

When you’re feeling ickier than usual, asks “you wanna get some air?” And will take you for a ride on his bike if you say yes!

If you say no, he’ll nod and go silent trying to think of something to appease you, and the rare occasion is he gives you a massage.

When he has a Toman meeting he’ll drop off stuff at the door but not before knocking so loud you could’ve sworn you heard him from hell. After pegging your door he’ll proceed to steal a kiss from you and run away giggling knowing you can’t do shit.

Draken

Gotta make sure his homie goes to school and so does he. After this, he will go to your place.

Terrible with gifts. Will have a brain hemorrhage debating if this gift is good enough.

Brings medicine and store bought food because he can’t cook for shit, but he makes sure it’s your favorite store bought food.

Way more effort into the store-bought food. Unlike Mikey, won’t just buy junk food but will make sure it’s covered in veggies or fruits, just to make sure you’re being properly nourished. Still will bring you chips or your favorite dessert bc he’s not tryna deprive you.

Absolutely no idea how to express his feelings. Hates seeing you sick but he doesn’t want to get sick because he’d infect a majority of toman being the Vice President. He just sits there with this grimace on his face and decides physical contact won’t do much as long as you’re… disinfected

Will literally fucking bathe you. No boogers or snot or whatever it is on him. You need to be SANITIZED before you touch this man.

Attempts to kiss your lips but you push away bc that’s a naughty naughty with a sick person!

Gives you the “how could you do this to me” look after bathing you and shit only to be rewarded with your hand in his face. Will definitely respect your refusal though because he knows you mean well, settled for a kiss on the cheek. He expects a makeup for it though!

Tucks you in for bed and gives you a goodnight kiss on your forehead, then dips

Absolutely messages you wakey wakey its time for schoo because he’s too busy with Mikey’s ph@t a$$

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[itsclydebitches]

I keep seeing people calling Good Omens queer bating and a I can't help but ask why? I read the Aziraphale/Crowley relationship threw an Ace lens and they are clearly as close to married as they are probably going to get without stepping on holy ground.... and they love each other... why is it considered queer bating?

Personally, I think it's mostly young queer fans turning legitimate grievances on the wrong target. A case of getting so fed up with queerbaiting in media as a whole that they're instinctually lashing out at anything that seems to resembles it on the surface, without taking the time to consider whether this is, in fact, the thing they're mad at. Good Omens is a scapegoat, if you will. The equivalent of snapping at your partner after a long day. Your friend was an asshole, your boss was an asshole, the guy in traffic was an asshole, and then you come home to your partner who says something teasing and you take it as another asshole comment because you've just been surrounded by assholeness all day, to the point where your brain is primed to see an attack. Your partner wasn't actually an asshole, but by this point you're (understandably) too on guard to realize that. Unless someone sits you down and kindly reminds you of the difference between playful teasing and a legitimate insult - the nuance, if you will - your hackles are just gonna stay up and you'll leave the room, off to phone a different friend to tell them all about how your partner was definitely an asshole to you.

Only in this case, that "friend" is a fan on social media doing think pieces on the supposed queerbaiting of Good Omens, spreading that idea to a) people who aren't familiar with the show themselves and b) those who, like that original fan, have come to expect queerbaiting and thus aren't inclined to question the latest story with that mark leveled against it. Because on the surface Good Omens can look a lot like queerbaiting. Here are two queer coded characters who clearly love each other, but don't say "I love you," don't kiss, don't "prove" that love in a particular way. So Gaiman is just leading everyone on, right?

Well... no. This is where the nuance comes in, the thing that many fans aren't interested in grappling with (because, like it or not, media is not made up of black and white categories; queerbaited and not-queerbaited. Supernatural's finale is proof enough of that...) I won't delve into the most detailed explanation here, but suffice to say:

Gaiman has straight up said it's a love story. He's just not giving them concrete labels like "gay" or "bi" or "asexual," etc. because they are literally not human. Gaiman has subscribed to an inclusive viewpoint in an era where fans are desperate for unambiguous rep that homophobes cannot possibly deny. The freedom to prioritize any interpretation - yes, including a "just friends" interpretation - now, in 2021, feels like a cop-out. However, in this case it's an act of world building (they are an angel and a demon, not bound by human understanding of identity) meeting a genuine desire to make these characters relatable to the entire queer community, not just particular subsets. Gaiman has said they can be whatever we want because the gender, sexuality, and romantic attraction of an angel and a demon is totally up for debate! However, some fans have interpreted that as a dismissal of canonical queerness; the idea that fans can pretend they're whatever they want... but it's definitely not canon. It is though. Them being queer is 100% canon, it's just up to us to decide what kind of queer they are. This isn't Gaiman stringing audiences along, it's him opening the relationship up to all queer possibilities.

We know he's not stringing us along (queerbaiting) because up until just a few days ago season two didn't exist. Queerbaiting is a deliberate strategy to maintain an audience. A miniseries does not need to maintain its audience. You binge it in one go and you're done, no coming back next year required. The announcement for season two doesn't erase that context for season one. No one knew there would be more content and thus the idea that they would implement a strategy designed to keep viewers hooked due to the hope for a queer relationship (with no intent to follow through) is... silly.

In addition, this interpretive, queer relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale existed in the book thirty years ago. Many fans are not considering the difference between creating a totally new story in 2019 and faithfully adapting a story from 1990 in 2019. Good Omens as representation meant something very different back then and that absolutely impacts how we see its adaptation onto the small screen. To put this into perspective, Rowling made HUGE waves when she revealed that she "thought of" Dumbledore as gay in an interview... in 2007. Compare that to the intense coding 17 years before. Gaiman was - and still is - pushing boundaries.

Which includes being an established ally, particularly in his comics. Queerbaiting isn't just the act of a single work, but the way an author approaches their work. Gaiman does not (to my knowledge) have that mark against him and even if he did, he's done enough other work to offset that.

Finally, we've got other, practical issues like: how do you represent asexuality on the screen? How do you show an absence of something? Yeah, one or both of them could claim that label in the show, outright saying, "I'm asexual," but again, Gaimain isn't looking to box his mythological figures into a single identity. So if we want that rep... we have to grapple with the fact that this is one option for what it looks like.

Even if he did want to narrow the representation down to just a few identities for the show, should Gaiman really be making those major changes when he's only one half of the author team? Pratchett has, sadly, passed on and thus obviously has no say in whether his characters undergo such revisions. Even if fans hate every other argument, they should understand that, out of respect, Good Omens is going to largely remain the same story it was 30 years ago.

And those 6,000 years are just the beginning! Again, this was meant to be a miniseries of a single novel, a novel that, crucially, covered only Crowley and Aziraphale's triumph in being able to love one another freely. That's a part of their personal journey. Yeah, they've been together in one sense for 6,000 years, but that was always with hell and heaven on their backs, to say nothing of the slow-burn approach towards acknowledging that love, for Aziraphale in particular. We end the story at the start of their new relationship, one that is more free and open than it ever was before. They can be anything to one another now! The fact that we don't see that isn't a deliberate attempt on the author's part to deny us that representation, but only a result of the story ending.

So yeah, there's a lot to consider and, frankly, I don't think those fans are considering it. Which on a purely emotional level I can understand. I'm pissed about queerbaiting too and the knee-jerk desire to reject anything that doesn't meet a specific standard is understandable. But understandable doesn't mean we don't have to work against that instinct because doing otherwise is harmful in the long run. We need to consider when stories were published and what representation meant back then. We need to consider how we adapt those stories for a modern audience. We need to acknowledge that if we want the inclusivity that "queer" provides us, that includes getting characters whose identity is not strictly defined by the author as well as characters with overtly canonical labels. We need both. We likewise need to be careful about when having higher standards ends up hurting the wrong authors - who are our imperfect allies vs. those straight up unwilling to embrace our community at all? And most importantly, we have to think about how we're using the terms we've developed to discuss these issues. Queerbaiting means something specific and applying it to Good Omens not only does Good Omens a disservice, but it undermines the intended meaning of "queerbaiting," making it harder to use correctly in the future. Good Omens is not queerbaiting and trying to claim it is only hurts the community those fans are speaking up for.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Childish Infatuation [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Childish Infatuation Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 27 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Benedict fic :) Summary: [x] After 8 years you finally come back to London. Seeing Benedict intensifies all those feelings you have been harbouring for him, but the fear of rejection lingers in the back of your mind.

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

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“Eloise! You must come here,” Benedict shouted, running after his sister, circling around the sofa in a childish manner. You watched the two siblings acting in a way society would have judged them for, but in your eyes, they looked like a family filled with love. Benedict has grown into a dashingly handsome young man, one that you didn’t expect to see. His smile was like a little child’s, far from the grown man he was meant to be, but his features must have made women fall on their knees before him.

“Leave that poor girl alone,” you chipped in with an adoring smile as they turned towards you. Clear confusion sat across their faces, both debating your identity. Eloise was struggling, she was only a child when you left, but Benedict’s growing eyes reassured you of his realisation. However, before he could have even spoken a word, Anthony walked into the room with his head held high, his eyes demanding respect. Halting his steps, he carefully studied your features, before his initial shock quickly turned into a grand smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from returning his expression as he walked up to you and embraced you in a brotherly hug.

“I shall think you missed me, should you keep hugging me,” you giggled happily as you wrapped your arms around him, missing his brooding mood, sarcastic remarks and never-ending scolding. Although you knew hugging him was wrong and it could have been deemed inappropriate by many, but he was more of a brother to you than your own.

“I’m quite certain you were not a brat when you left. I’m unsure about the change,” he squinted, watching you with eager eyes, before his lips curved into a playfully smile, earning a gentle punch from you. The manners of a lady could not have been farther from you, but you didn’t mind, you loved yourself the way you were.

“I wasn’t a brat nor am I brat now. I’ll have you know, I’m a lady and I would like you to treat me accordingly, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied with a slight attitude as you pulled away from his embrace. His reaction, a loud scoff was certainly not what you expected.

“I apologise, but you are still that tiny ankle-biter who left 8 years ago,” he chuckled playfully. You grimaced at him, once again defying those precious manners you have been taught by your dear mother.

“Ankle-biter? I’ll have you know, I was 16 years old, not a child, Anthony,'' astonished by his reply, you pursed your lips, sulking unlike a mature adult you were supposed to be.

“You will always be a little sister to me therefore I call you however I wish to,” he snorted proudly, but before you could have even thought of a smart reply, Benedict interrupted your conversation.

“Are you-? Is it-? I-,” however he tried to find the right words, Benedict was unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Should I understand?” you turned to Anthony, but he seemed as confused as you did, trying to figure out what his brother was trying to say.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” Benedict asked, his words hesitant as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Might be. I am unsure about who you think I may be,” you chuckled playfully. However, your laughter died down as two strong arms sneaked around your waist and lifted you up in the air, holding onto you strongly, making you feel unexpectedly safe and secure. You wished to be in his arms for years, a simple thought of his smile made you keep going. Folding your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to enjoy his embrace, heaving a deep sigh in comfort. You knew hugging him was inappropriate, but not for the same reasons as hugging Anthony. Having genuine feelings towards Benedict, thinking of him as a man, someone you could have imagined a future with made it wrong, but absolutely beautiful.

He placed your feet on the ground and cupped your face, kissing your forehead, starting your heart off in a dangerous race. From the corner of your eyes, you caught Anthony’s, trying to act as if he didn’t see his brother being more than slightly inappropriate. “Why didn’t you tell me in your last letter? Should I have known that you were to come home, we would have prepared,” he frowned, but his happy smile never faltered.

His hands wandered down your arms and held onto your hands, securing his fingers around them as he drew tiny circles with the tip of his thumb on your skin. Should you have removed your hands from his hold? Should you have created a space between you? Logically that would have been the right decision. But your feelings for Benedict were beyond logical. The man has had your heart since the very first day you met and whilst you never imagined growing genuine feelings from such a childish infatuation, now you stood in front of him with a beaming smile, looking at him as if he was the only man on earth.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you giggled, slightly shrugging your shoulders. “I did tell you that we might meet soon again,”

“I’m certain you have told me that for the past 8 years. Should I have believed you?” he asked, but you knew it was a rhetorical question and instead you just shook your head.

“Anthony, Benedict, I have heard news. Mr and Mrs-,” Daphne ran inside the room, holding onto her beautiful, light blue dress, her breathing shallow, her eyes wide in shock.

“It’s been a long time, Daph,” you smiled at the girl who has grown into a beautiful young woman.

“You are back,” she giggled happily as she ran up to you, holding onto your hands, squeezing them as if she was trying to make sure you were indeed present.

Reconnecting with the Bridgerton siblings felt as if you found a part of your life that has been missing for years. They were always close to you, even more so than your own brothers. In the past 8 years since you've been gone, you thought about them every single day, hoping to meet them again. Now that you finally did, you felt whole again.

As you sat at the dining table, right beside Benedict, you tried to concentrate on the delicious food in front of you, but he didn’t seem to share your priorities. He was a man on a mission, trying to distract you. Gently nudging your leg with his for the past 10 minutes didn’t seem to affect you. Or so he thought. You knew what he wanted.

When you were little, he always kept kicking you under the table as soon as he was done eating and he wanted you to follow him. It was an unspoken arrangement between the two of you and at first you were certain he didn’t remember, but the obvious indications and subtle messages reassured you that he knew what he was doing.

You have not been following the conversation between your parents and Mrs. Bridgerton, nor did you want to listen. Your complete attention has been occupied by Benedict and the man had the audacity to feel proud of himself.

“Mama?” you called out to your mother, waiting for her to halt the conversation for a mere second. When she finally looked at you, you continued. “May I please be excused?” your mother gave you a suspicious look before she turned to Benedict as if she knew what was going on. You expected her to say no, but instead a small smile spread across her face.

“Hurry back, darling,” she replied with a knowing look. You wanted to believe it was your own imagination playing a silly game with you, but your mother seemed unexpectedly happy to let you go.

You stood up from the table and headed towards the hall, before you walked behind the stairs and hurried your steps towards the garden. Standing beside the door, all alone, you let out a satisfied giggle. Looking at Benedict made you happy. The simple sight of him made your stomach fill up with thousands of dancing butterflies. But knowing he wanted to sneak around to see you in private just like 8 years ago, it made you feel like a foolish teenager again.

The door opened beside you, revealing a mischievously smiling Benedict. “I thought you didn’t understand,” he scoffed playfully.

“Indeed, I didn’t. I was confused. Surely, I thought you must have forgotten about our sign,” you explained with a wide, happy smile across your face.

“Would never,” he grinned proudly as he held onto your hand and started running with you to the other end of the garden, hidden away from the curious eyes. As soon as you reached a safe distance, he let go of your hand and continued walking ahead of you. However, you didn’t move. You watched his wide shoulders and narrow hips moving as he kept going forward. From a sudden urge, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your cheek against his back, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his coat. A part of you wished he didn’t hear you, fearing rejection coming your way. But another part of you couldn’t hold your feelings inside anymore.

“Do you think I didn’t?” he turned around in your arms with a soft smile across his face, one that you could have easily mistaken for a loving one. “I have been exchanging letters with you for the past 8 years. I thought I would never see you again, but I never thought of ever giving up on you,” he cupped your cheeks, lifting your head up to be able to look into your eyes. Your cheeks heated up, under his intense gaze. You wished to be closer to him, to feel his body against you, but your racing heart and the fear of rejection stopped you.

“What did you think when I arrived, and you recognised me?” you asked curiously.

“Disbelief? Surprise? I couldn’t possibly believe my own eyes,” he chuckled at the sight of your slightly disappointed expression and hunched over back. You were ready to remove your arms from his waist, but he quickly got hold of them and carefully placed them back around himself, before he placed his hands back on your cheeks. “I’m sensing those aren’t the words you expected. Shall I continue?”

“Is there more?” you asked as you curiously straightened your posture again.

“Indeed, there is. I was shocked. I have not seen you, nor have you ever sent a photo for the past 8 years. I could not have imagined in my wildest of dreams to have you become this beautiful. You have always been pretty, but when you arrived and I first laid eyes on you, I certainly forgot how to speak for a second,” he chuckled awkwardly, making you giggle happily. His words could have been enough for you to confess your own love for him, but you stopped yourself.

You knew you weren’t lady-like, but that was you and Benedict’s growing smile reassured you that you could always be yourself around him. However, it didn’t reassure you enough of his own feelings. He certainly made you happy, might have even made you the happiest woman walking the earth. But confessing your own feelings without reassurance of his own, you weren’t that brave.

“Well, my dear lord, you have certainly become charming and handsome yourself,” you wiggled your brows playfully.

“Are you satisfied with my features?” he asked with a proud and confident grin.

“A little change here and there and I think we can work with it, Mr. Bridgerton,” you shrugged playfully, trying to hide your everlasting smile. He inhaled sharply, clear shock painted across his face, his mouth parted involuntarily, but he couldn’t hide the devilish smile in the corner of his lips.

As if your senses knew what he wanted to do, you quickly let go of his waist and started running away from him, expecting some form of a punishment. He didn’t have to run fast to catch you, your dress slowed you enough for him to reach you with one arm, gently pulling you down on the grass with him. He quickly changed position, hovering above you, his weight only held by his arms on each side of your face. The previously happy smile disappeared from your face, instead your complete attention turned to his dangerously close lips, his intoxicating cologne and his eyes that seemed to focus on your mouth.

“Benedict?” you whispered in fear of ruining the moment. “Do you remember our promise from when we were children?” a deep frown sat between his brows at your question.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Back when we were little, we promised to marry each other. Can you recall that?” your tone was more hopeful than ever before, and you were certain Benedict could hear it.

“It was a silly little game back then,” he smiled blissfully, but for you that simple expression which made you the happiest woman a moment ago now felt as if you were stabbed in the chest.

“It was not for me,” you furrowed. You wished he thought of that childish agreement as sincerely as you, but his rejection confirmed your worst fears. He didn’t. You felt your eyes fill up with unshed tears, your throat dangerously suffocating you, your chest becoming heavy as you tried to sit up. You wanted to disappear, feeling foolish about waiting 8 years for a man who couldn’t love you the way you wished he would. But Benedict didn’t move.

“It is certainly not a game to me now,” he added quickly as he realised your tears and distanced behaviour. “I wouldn’t have exchanged letters with you for 8 years should you have not been important to me. I have loved you long before you left, but I couldn’t offer you anything back then. I was a mere child. A foolish 19-year-old boy who was confused about his own feelings. However, now I know what I want.”

“What do you want?” you whispered in astonishment, his words awakening hope in you again, excited butterflies flapping around in your stomach.

“You!” he stated firmly and before you knew it, his lips met yours, kissing you for the first time feverishly. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer. You never knew how it felt to be kissed nor could you ever imagine it. But now that Benedict was kissing you, his lips against yours fitting perfectly made you quickly understand why they regarded kissing someone other than your husband a sin. If it wasn’t for Benedict pulling away, you would have never let him go.

Although slightly breathless, you giggled against his lips hovering above yours. “Shall we repeat that?” you asked boldly, earning a chuckle from him.

“I’d like nothing more, but-” he smiled at you with an adoring look in his eyes. “not now. Tomorrow morning, I shall talk to your father and ask him for your hand in marriage. I will not have anyone stealing you away from me again whether it be your parents or any possible suitor.”

“That vaguely sounds as if you were proposing to me,” you beamed at him, enthralled which earned you a loud laughter from him.

“As soon as your father gives us his blessing, I will propose to you in a way you could never imagine,” he replied proudly, before he pushed himself up and reached for your hand to help you up beside him.

“I can’t possibly wait to see that,” you giggled happily, biting into your bottom lip, trying to contain yourself as you walked back to the mansion. Reaching the entrance of the house, he quickly pulled you into his embrace, his arm holding onto your waist safely as he placed a small peck on your lips.

“Don’t bite your lips,” he heaved a deep sigh as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling your scent. “Surely, I will not do anything until our marriage, but should I ask of you not to do something, please refrain yourself from doing it,” his tone was desperate, waking your curiosity.

“Would you mind stealing a kiss maybe on occasions?” you giggled playfully, earning a heartfelt laughter from him.

“I could never deny that from you,” he planted a kiss on your neck and gently nudged you towards the door. “You have to go back first, I shall follow soon,” he gave you the instructions.

“After you have talked to my father, will you come see me?” you asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Now go,” he ushered you in with a foolish smile across his face. As soon as you disappeared behind the door, his smile grew wider and defying all his maturity he happily jumped around in his place, laughing at the memories you left him with, giddy and slightly nervous about the next day. But for now, he could only think of you and the childish infatuation he once felt for you and over time grew into a strong love, he felt he could barely contain.

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