#I just take things personally sometimes because I see myself in Steve and I’d love to be given that patience too

[plistommy]

One of the reasons why I love Steddie is how sweet Eddie was with Steve in the forest scene. That’s what got me into this ship. It was nice to see someone being patient and kind to Steve like that and it coming from someone like Eddie who viewed Steve so differently means a lot.

I loved how he told him how much Dustin looks up to him, making Steve smile and even after that wanting to joke around a little to make Steve laugh as well.

It was such a nice change, because all the other scenes we just see him bickering with someone or people making him seem stupid when he asks questions. Eddie didn’t make fun of him for not knowing Ozzy like he probably would have prior to things and instead let it be and called Steve cool. I love them.

[morganbritton132]

I love that Eddie is a craft guy! It just makes so much sense. Do you think he's one of those people who is CONSTANTLY doing a new craft and their house is just littered with Eddie's crafts, and he's always making little hand made gifts for Steve, the party and the band? I can totally imagine Steve coming home and the house just being in total disarray and Eddie's just like "I made a bird table and i personalised all your coffee cups :))"

Eddie Munson and the ADHD urge to start a new project before you finished the last one.

Despite Eddie’s big personality and the joy he gets galivanting across cafeteria tables and award show stages, he is very much a homebody. His favorite places growing up was his bedroom, Gareth’s garage, and the drama room where he hosted D&D. Then he went on tour and when the shows were over, he just wanted to be home.

He liked being able to strip away the Eddie Munson persona, sit down, and channel all the ideas in his head into a creative output.

Honestly, making money just made it worse. He can afford shit now.

Steve’s the opposite though.

Steve likes to be out of the house. He was a kid that lived in a big house with parents that never wanted to see or hear him, sometimes year-round sports were the only thing keeping him sane. Once Eddie made it big and was touring, Steve was once again alone in a big empty house and so he found things to do.

He meets up with Robin at least once a week to get dinner and drinks, and sometimes they go dancing or they sing karaoke. Him and Dustin meet up semi-regularly to catch up. He was a part of their neighborhood walking group before Diane annoyed him out of it. He goes bowling with some teachers from work occasionally and takes a pottery class that he sucks at. Him and Max are a part of a trivia team that has only ever succeeded at being the drunkest team in the game.

So, the combination of ‘Steve is 90% of my impulse control and he’s not here right now’ and ‘If I don’t create something, I will die’ means that sometimes Steve comes home to a new windchime or a questionably made bird house.

 Sometimes he comes home to Eddie embroidering one of his jackets by hand even though he bought an embroidery machine that he has never used. Other times, he comes home and Eddie has carved every bar of soap they had into a little fucked-up guy or he found a recorder and wants to play Steve a song.

Or sometimes, Steve returns home from the cooking class he’s taking at their local community center to beads. Beads everywhere.

Beads in the carpet. Beads on the hardwood. Beads in their shoes by the stairs. Beads everywhere.

Steve – who is pretty Type-A about their house being clean and organized because he has a shit memory and needs to be able to find things – very calmly sits aside the ravioli that he made and says, “Eddie, what the fuck?”

“I dropped them.”

Steve makes a gesture like ‘yeah, no shit’ and then just makes a distressed noise, but Eddie waves him off as he dumps a handful of beads into the good punch bowl that they use for parties, “Don’t blame me. Your cat tripped me. I nearly brained myself.”

“She’s only my cat when she’s bad,” Steve sighs, sitting down to help pick the beads up. “Why do you have beads anyways? Since when do we have beads?”

“Do you remember those beaded lizard keychains?” Eddie asks, and then when all he got was silence. “I’m going to make you one…after we pick up two thousand pony beads.”

Steve makes another noise that’s somewhere between ‘you’re causing me actual pain’ and ‘I love you so much it makes me stupid’ and Eddie grins at him. He gestures to the punch bowl and says, “Stevie, think about it. Once we fill this bad boy up, we can separate the beads by color. That’ll be fun, right?”

“…Yeah, I’d actually really like that.”

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week's writer's spotlight feature is: @pearynice! With twenty-eight Stranger Things works, they've written twenty-seven fics tagged with Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson!

Nominated by @hotluncheddie, they recommend the following works by peachesandpears:

Talk to Me

Personally

Starched Collars

In your eyes

they are so lovely and so talented!! so many short and sweet pieces - that so often seem to touch and soft squishy part hidden away within me, put a little bandaid on it <3 - @hotluncheddie

Below the cut, @pearynice answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I’ve always loved the “opposites attract” trope. While Steddie is the first ship I’ve ever seriously written for, in the past this dynamic has always been my go to (ie: destiel lol) but Steddie specifically because I think Stranger Things is a great show with compelling characters, and that Eddie and Steve deserve a happy ending. And for me that happy ending will always have them with each other.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love AUs. Love seeing the little blorbos in as many situations as possible. I love being able to see how writers take what we know about these characters and make it into a whole new story. (But especially a soulmate AU. I loveeee a soulmate AU.)

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I think anyone who follows me can probably guess hurt/ comfort and fluff. I LOVE making these boys suffer and then smooch about it. 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

AH okay I will scream about this fic until I’m blue in the face (I actually submitted an ask to this blog about it because I think it’s criminally under-viewed!) it’s As the World Falls Down by daeneryske on Ao3. I read this MONTHS ago and I still think about it all the time. It’s long but god I wish it would never end. I want to tattoo it on the inside of my eyelids.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Yes!! I can’t say much because it’s for my Reverse Big Bang but they both contain tropes I’ve never worked with before and I’m so so excited to be writing both of them!!! I’m already having so much fun! And a goal of mine for 2024 is to broaden my writing horizons a little and explore tropes and topics that I haven’t yet, so I don’t really have any specifically in mind but that is my general plan!

What is your writing process like?

Very chaotic. I almost never write an outline. It’s pure vibes baby. And when I DO write an outline I almost never follow it (whoopsie) I feel like as I write the plot comes to me, and outlines tend to pigeon hole me so I can’t get myself out of writing slumps.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Maybe my overuse of italics?  I also don’t really know how to describe it but sometimes when I’m writing heavy action scenes/ emotional scenes I’ll start and stop sentences before they’re complete sentences. Like: “Steve says nothing. Sits down next to his father and looks over his shoulder.” I don’t know if that’s a writing quirk or not lol but that tends to be how I structure my sentences.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely after I’ve finished. Once I’m on a deadline I psych myself out.

Which fic are you most proud of?

That’s such a hard one, because I think I’m proud of a lot of my fics but for very different reasons. I think if I had to choose, I’d pick Blood of the Covenant. It’s one of my more recent fics, and I had toyed around with a Wayne POV fic for such a long time before writing because I wanted to get it right. It was hard to find his voice but I think in the end I executed it well.  

How did you get the idea for Talk to Me?

Well besties I dunno how personal we want to get here, but the inspo for this fic (and tbh a lot of my hurt/ comfort fics) is just based on my own experiences. Growing up my mom did not have the capacity to tend to the thoughts and emotions of her kids, ergo me pushing that shit into a Steddie fic. Obviously what I wrote as Steve’s experience and mine are not directly parallel, but that is how I got the idea.

When writing Starched Collars, what was something you didn’t expect?

That was my first heavy hurt/comfort fic that I wrote, and I remember being really blown away that people could relate so heavily to Steve’s experiences. I remember I had some comments saying that they felt really comforted seeing their own experiences reflected within Steve, and I just never expected my writing to be able provide that for someone. 

What inspired Personally?

Well, again, we’re getting a little personal (babum tss)- but how I wrote Steve’s mom reacting to him mentioning the sunglasses is definitely how my own mom tends to react when I express any kind of negative emotion around her. In this case it was a lost parking stub instead of sunglasses.

What was your favorite part to write from Talk to Me?

The COMFORT- that’s always my favorite part. Making it better! (Although it is also a little fun leaving the angsty cliffhanger- but I will ALWAYS make my fics have a happy ending.) But also I’m a little in love with the idea I had that Eddie likes to rub on Steve’s stomach until he falls asleep. I thought that wrapped up the story very nicely.

How do/did you feel writing Personally?

It was honestly very therapeutic. I don’t think I’ve ever word-vomited out a fic more rapidly than I did for that one. I wrote that in my notes app in one afternoon, read through it once or twice, and posted. It was a relief to get all of that out in writing, and then even better to see that other people found comfort in what I had written. 

What was the most difficult part of writing Starched Collars?

When I was first drafting the fic I was going to have Starched Collars and In Your Eyes (the kinda sorta sequel) be one in the same. I spent a long time trying to balance the two narratives, before I realized it was just too much to fit into one fic. Having both detracted from the other’s story too much, and eventually I had it just focusing on Steve. I think this was the best move but I spent so long trying to strike that balance before I scrapped it.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I don’t know if I can name any one scene or line as explicitly my favorite, but the final scene of Because it’s Steve it’s absolutely a favorite. That whole fic is very special to me because it reflects a lot of my own thoughts/feelings/experiences on being demi, and that final scene is just exactly how I experience my demisexuality. (I’m not sure how long this can be, but I’ll insert the passage here): 

And they’re still in this disgusting bathroom. There’s still a toilet behind Eddie’s knees, but when Steve’s mouth meets his, it doesn’t matter. Because one of Steve’s arms wraps around his middle, his fingers dip into the spaces between his ribs, their chests touch, and it all feels so good. Because it’s Steve. And it’s still Steve who kisses him, still Steve who licks into his mouth, still Steve who nearly sends them both stumbling into the disgusting toilet. And because it’s Steve it’s so funny that Eddie can’t stop laughing, and there’s a blush high on Steve’s cheeks as he tells Eddie to stop it. But then Steve kisses him again. Asks if he wants to go and find Robin and Nancy. If he wants to dance. With him. 

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

YES. So Because it’s Steve is now a series: Demi/Virgin!Eddie, with all of Eddie’s firsts with Steve. This is very smutty but it’s also like, the sappiest, most disgustingly fluffy smut I’ve ever written. I would say it’s “schmoopy” but I was outed as an Old Lady on Discord because apparently no one uses that word anymore. ALSO- and maybe this is still too far away BUT I am working on TWO Reverse Big Bang pieces and… you guys… my artists are so talented and kind and their brains are so big and so far I’ve gotten along with each of them so well and I am already so excited to post these and we’ve only just begun. I cannot wait until we can make our visions into an entire fic!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add? 

YES- whoever nominated me for this (I don’t know if that’s something they’ll tell me??) THANK YOU- this is so sweet. I feel so honored that someone thought of me as deserving of this. There are so, so many authors you could've chosen and you chose ME! That’s just- insane. Thank you.  And to anyone who has said they found my hurt/ comfort fics relatable in any way, I rain all of the platonic hugs/ forehead kisses/ handshakes/ high fives/ nods of the head upon you. ❤️✨

Thank you to our author, @pearynice, and our nominator, @hotluncheddie! See more of @pearynice's work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[michellemisfit]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @deedala @darlingian @suchagallabitch @energievie @creepkinginc @lingy910y @gembu-tortuesouscafeine @mickeysgaymom

1. if you could switch bodies with anybody for only one hour who would it be and what would you do?

Hmmmm. If it was ‘anything’ I’d switch with something with wings. But if it has to be a person then I guess the next best thing? Like a Circe du Soleil arial performer? Yeah, I think that’d be cool, but also after an hour I’d be kinda done. Perfect.

2. whats your most trivial / dumbest hot take?

I don’t have baths after dark. No one should. The nighttime monsters are gonna get you, if you’re wet after sundown. I don’t make the rules 🤷🏽‍♂️

3. If you had to teach a college course what would it be in?

Something animal related. Or problem solving and problem prevention. Like, I always say you can’t teach common sense but… maybe I could try?? Cause I think I’d be pretty good at it! Maybe not college. Get them earlier. While they’re malleable. Teach them how to spot shit that’s about to hit the fan. And what they can do to prevent it! Teach them how to walk into a room and register the 13 things that need to be addressed / fixed / saved / cleaned before they walk back out of the room. Yeah. I’d be good at that.

4. season 12 of shameless is suddenly happening and you’ve been put in charge! what plot point(s) are you gonna make happen?

I want them all to be settled and happy. I don’t need life to be perfect. But just…

I like Lip being into the building and decorating, but he’s soon gonna miss using his brain, so I’d like him to move into either the architecture side of things or the business management and franchising side of things.

I love Ian & Mickey being happily married forever and ever, and they’ve gone through so much shit, they should just get to be happy, but! I hate that all mentions of Ian’s bipolar were cut from season 11. This doesn’t just go away. Show me how well they deal with it now, but also how it’s still hard, and how it touches a part of Mickey’s hurt and trauma that he doesn’t want to achonowledge, and how sometimes it makes Ian self-loathing and mean and Mickey scared and angry, and when they get like this they lash out at each other. And then show me how, even when things are hard, they continue to fight for each other and choose each others, because they will ALWAYS choose each other.

Sandy is going to come back and Debbie and her are gonna make a real go of it.

Carl is going to buy and run The Alibi and it’s going to be awesome.

5. who would be your godly parent? (can be any mythology).

The Black Rabbit of Inlé.

Oh, there's no more to fear in death than in the changing of the seasons.

You all know how some rabbits seem just to throw their lives away between two jokes and a theft: but the truth is that their foolishness comes from the Black Rabbit, for it is by his will that they do not smell the dog or see the gun…But the truth is — or so they taught me — that he, too, serves Lord Frith and does no more than his appointed task — to bring about what must be. We come into the world and we have to go: but we do not go merely to serve the turn of one enemy or another. We go by the will of the Black Rabbit of Inle and only by his will. And though that will seem hard and bitter to us all, yet in his way he is our protector.

6. what’s something you love about yourself?

I’m funny, kind, competent, hard working, and creative. I hate myself a lot, but I’m also pretty fucking awesome. Two things can be true at the same time. I contain multitudes. 🤷🏽‍♂️

7. describe your day in 5 emojis:

😭🥓🍳🥲🛍️

8. what shameless character do you think you could beat in a fight?

Jimmy-Steve, Liam, and Fiona. Tommy, Kermit, and Kate. Iggy and Walter Milkovich (if they’re high, which they will be). Also Karen, Ned, and Kash.

9. tell us 2 truths and a lie, we’ll try to guess the lie!

10. do you have a pet(s). if so how did they get their name?

Mouse was named after Michael ‘Mouse’ Tolliver (Tales of the City) by Ruth and after Mouse the Temple Dog from Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files by me. Full Name: Mouse McFeathers.

Howard was named after the foreman in charge of a big building project at the farm, at the time when we rescued him as a kitten. Howard Alan Crisp, giving his name to our three kittens Howard, Alan, and Crispy. Full Name: Howard ‘Bonk Bonk’ Bambino.

Wiggins was named after the cyclist Bradley Wiggins, because he was big at the time, and it was better than Froome, which was the other name on the table, and closest to Arthur, which is what I wanted to call him. In the end we let Mouse choose by writing all the names on pieces of paper, folding them up, and picking the one she swiped off the table. Full Name: Wiggins Dangerbean.

11. show us a meme (or picture) that captures your essence

12. whats your typical coffee / tea / beverage order?

Chai Latte

I would like to tag @suzy-queued @vintagelacerosette @sam-loves-seb @lupeloto @shameless-notashamed @transmickey @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @francesrose3 @jademickian @sickness-health-all-that-shit @metalheadmickey @gardenerian @callivich @celestialmickey @look-i-love-u @rutherinahobbit @palepinkgoat @whatthebodygraspsnot @depressedstressedlemonzest @rereadanon @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @too-schoolforcool or just hand you a flower and let you pet a puppy 🐶

[ghost-proofbaby]

I'm asking this of several people because I'm curious about the general consensus on the topic. The general consensus for Eddie is that he'd absolutely be down for being involved romantically with a plus size girl.

What do you think Steve's take on it would be?

Any thoughts as to Billy's, Hopper's, and Enzo's takes on the same subject?

as a plus size girl myself, i think my answer is always going to be yes. idc if that’s biased or not.

with steve, my biggest thing is it’d probably be post season 3, maybe season 2. king steve in season 1 gives me the vibes of some guys i know from high school who would only hook up with plus size girls, but never be caught dead publicly dating them lmao 💀 we all know the type. BUT post season 3? oh fucking absolutely. he reminds me of trevor wagner (i think that’s his name?) on tik tok. finding every reason possible to go to the gym and build muscles until he could absolutely throw you around like a rag doll. if you made comments on your weight, even small things like refusing to sit in his lap because you think you’d crush him, he’d take it as a challenge. steve harrington’s ridiculously competitive nature would come out in full force, and he’d prove you wrong by all means necessary. i think he’d only have to be crushed by your thighs one time, and the man would be a fucking goner. always thinking about soft curves and the way he just wants to fucking worship you, to learn every curvature and line of your body so carnally. steve is just a massive simp in my mind, and again, i might be biased as a plus size girl myself, but i don’t think weight can change that.

as for the rest of the stranger things men, it’s still a resounding yes. especially for the older men. especially hopper. i also, again, am biased because i know between the fact that hopper is a bigger man himself and is very tall, so his clothes would actually fit me ‘huge’ unlike eddie’s or steve’s 😭

also just a small headcanon i learned from my guy friends that now lives rent free in my mind — you know how thigh highs sometimes squeeze thighs, and like, the fat spills over? you know how it sometimes makes us (or maybe just me idk) feel uncomfortable and a little self conscious? apparently a lot of guys go fucking nuts over that. they see that, and aren’t all grossed out as i get with my body about it, but instead just become fucking horn dogs for it. hence why some guys love thigh highs.

eddie, steve, and hopper share that sentiment. anything that might be a source of insecurity for you (and me!) actually drives them insane. they aren’t looking at your body with that judgmental gaze that’s been ingrained in us: they’re looking at it as just a body, and fuck, do they love your body. and even more so, they love the person that resides in that body.

at the end of the day, i think they’re all grown enough that they don’t care. like i said, season 1 steve might have a fear of how he’s perceived with a plus sized girl, but current steve? eddie? hopper? nah. it doesn’t even cross their mind. they’re just simps. all they know is they love you, and they’re damn proud for a 10 like yourself to have chosen them.

anyways. this might be a longer answer than necessary but i just. i’d really like these fictional men to worship my body while also simultaneously still treating me like a human being. asking for a lot. i know. they would, though. i know it. i feel it in my bones. 🥲

[buddiebeginz]

This new influx of hate towards Billy from the ST fandom is really wearing on me. 😔 It’s making me wish (at least partly) that they wouldn’t have even mentioned him again.

It seriously hurts as someone who grew up in an abusive home to hear how much and how many people think Billy deserved to die. Do these people not realize how many kids/teens go through what Billy did? Are you telling me because I was angry and at times violent and destructive (because I was lashing out in pain) that I deserved to die? Or because I had to educate myself after the shitty things I was around growing up with my mom being racist and homophobic etc I guess that means I also deserved to die.

I’d just love to know at what point to some of you think somebody’s life is no longer worthy? At what point can somebody no longer change or do better? You’ve decided that a teenager is 100% unforgivable and irredeemable. Not only that but you’ve decided his actions are so bad he deserved to be eviscerated literally have holes ripped through his whole body. Mind you this was also after he had been possessed by the Mindflayer and had no comprehension of what was even happening to him. No one even trying to save him. And had also been forced to hurt people and do things like drink chemicals. You’re telling me that punishment fits the crime of him having been a dick to some people?

You think you’re just talking about some dumb tv show but you’re not. The kind of language some of you use to talk about an abused kid and people who love and relate to him is incredibly problematic. It’s part of why victims of familial abuse often don’t talk about it especially men. It’s part of why people who have suffered abuse sometimes self harm or try to take their life. I’ve spent a lot of my life believing I was a bad person because that’s what I was made to believe when I was younger. Being around the ST fandom and seeing so many people talk about how Billy deserved to die because of his mistakes just brings back up a lot of those feelings again.

So many of you only believe a person is worthy of love and redemption if they are the right kind of good person. Like El. So many people defended her hitting that girl with the skate when it was seriously not okay. But because you all see El as a good guy she matters. Same with Steve and Jonathan anything they may have done in earlier seasons doesn’t matter because they’re good guys now. Or Kali. When season 2 came out a lot of fandom defended how she was killing people and trying to manipulate El into doing the same. You all forgive any and all of the mistakes of the characters you like but even though Billy literally sacrificed his own life to save everyone he’s still seen as a pos bad guy whose life doesn’t matter.

No one has to like Billy or any character but I really wish that some of you would take even a second to think about the real world people your words are affecting when you’re still celebrating Billy’s death three years later. I’ve also had to contend with tons of anon hate messages and comments on my posts telling me how much Billy deserved to die. You all sit in judgment of a fictional characters actions but don’t seem to care how your real words and actions are affecting real people.

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[foxwritesstuffsometimes]

In defence of Billy Hargrove (part two: affects of abuse)

Billy Hargrove was not the best of people. Despite what antis may suggest, the majority of us can acknowledge that, I’m not going to sit here and fully defend his actions, because many of the things he did were pretty reprehensible, but I’d like to go further into the affects of his upbringing and it’s possible affects on his behaviour. And most of all, despite his actions, I still hold firmly onto the belief, that he deserved a second chance.

Billy Hargrove lived a pretty shitty life. His father was an awful person who abused him, and the mother that was present in his life (his step mother Susan) stood by and watched this abuse happen with little intervention. To grow up without parental love is extremely damaging, from a psychological point of view, we all need a certain amount of nurture to grow up, to grow into ourselves, and to grow up without that may sometimes lead to little to no self esteem. This is what I believe resulted in some of Billy’s behaviour.

Throughout the shows runtime Billy is portrayed as arrogant, confidant, flirty and brash, with little to no cracks in the mask, however the little slip ups we see in his behaviour are very telling towards his real mindset. People who are miserable often put up facades to distract the world of how they really feel, and oftentimes to distract themselves as well. I believe Billy Hargrove was no different. He grew up beaten and bruised by his father, with no real mother to rely on, learned through experience that any show of real emotion could land him a beating, so hardened himself and created a new exterior within himself to protect himself from showing any weakness.

A couple times we really see him break, both in season three are the scene where he is trapped in the sauna by the main crew, and towards the end when he sacrifices himself to save them. The first scene in the sauna, we see him distraught, trying desperately to convince max that the killings he committed under the mindflayers influence weren’t his fault, miserable, and broken, far from the character that we witnessed prior. And the second, his final scene, he is finally shown comfort by someone, eleven, and sacrifices himself to save his sister and her friends. I for one, hate the majorities of this trope of redemption, but somehow I believe this one was a lot deeper than meets the eye. Billy Hargrove, I believe, hated himself. He was a miserable person who likely believed he was just as much of a monster as his father, so it’s telling that in his final moments, the first time we really see him being shown comfort within the show, he chooses to sacrifice himself to save the girl who showed it to him. However despite this I cannot fully agree with Billy’s passing, as I believe the notion that abuse victims can only find solace through their deaths as a pretty disgusting take.

Trauma is an extremely heavy load to carry. It can lead to feelings of misery, loneliness, anger, and hatred towards yourself and the world in general. Billy’s behaviour in my mind, seemed to wildly stem from this. He treated max poorly because he never really learned to treat her with care, something he himself hadn’t felt since his biological mother was around and he lashed out at the people he wanted to be close to (Steve Harrington in particular), because he didn’t know how else to get their attention. In my mind, Billy Hargrove was an extremely damaged and sad individual, and truly the fact that most other people can’t really see past someone’s anger to the underlying pain within is pretty upsetting to me.

Sibling relationships are complicated, I would know as I have three younger sisters. In the past I was pretty horrible to them myself. Taking out your pain on the people who you are close to isn’t as uncommon as you’d think, especially if seemingly they don’t see how much your hurting. Max and Susan became a part of Billy’s life after Neil Hargrove remarried. In my mind I believe there was a high likelihood that Billy had begun to get abused long before Susan and max joined the family, so it is likely the anger and resentment he had been feeling had already begun boiling over. Billy was already hurt and miserable, and I can only imagine how much more hurt he would feel seeing how max and Susan were treated in contrast to himself. Neither were beaten as far as we know, Neil was never shown to be violent to either, so seeing this I can imagine Billy only became worse off, more miserable and angry that ever before.

Billy was never really able to show any signs of redemption throughout season two, but we see a couple glimmers of hope in season three where him and max have appeared to grow closer. Max was the only one who seemed unable to accept Billy being possessed by the mindflayer, she seemed miserable, worried, and most of all I’m a state of pretty heavy denial, and I believe despite how poorly they seemed to get on, they both still cared about each other deep down. I’m unsure if max was aware of Neil’s mistreatment towards Billy, but when season four hit and she seemed in such a heavy state of grieving for him, I found myself really wishing that they’d had a chance to be close one day.

I will not sit and excuse Billy’s behaviour, like I said before, he did some pretty shitty things. But I think seeing through the complexities of a persons actions can lead to a much healthier mindset. Billy was never able to break away from his abuse. He was never able to get better, never able to get therapy and never able to build a healthier relationship with his sister. If it were up to me he would’ve been redeemed in a much healthier and more complex way. If it were up to me, his character would be written in a show with much better writers who cared enough to handle his character with the care it deserved. Despite his actions, I still love Billy’s character. It’s not often we see a character like him that’s deeper than meets the eye, and god it’s been nice being able to really connect to a character in the way I have to him. It’s not often that abuse/trauma victims are given a character to represent how we feel. And that’s why it’s so saddening that he was handled so poorly, people like us, we need hope, and if we’re treated like monsters, as was the case for Billy, things will only get worse.

(Let me know if I missed anything, been a while since I watched season 2+3, final part will be out tomorrow)

[superfics-forone]

Just Friends

SUMMARY: Sam asks the group who they think are the “hottest” members of the team. You don’t make the cute for Bucky’s top five.

Bucky x TALL!Reader

W/C: 5,800

WARNINGS: angst, swearing (like two f bombs), cannon level violence, Bucky being an idiot (it’s a warning), physical insecurities, fake science

A/N: I wrote this because the top 5 situation actually happened to me IRL and when you don’t make someone you like’s list, it sucks. Also, this is in no way meant as being against people who are smaller! I am just a tall/plus size woman and sometimes that really makes you feel like you’re unattractive to people because you don’t fit the gender norm. Let me know what you think! I’m pretty new at this so I’d appreciate the feedback!

Also, HUGE shout out to @princessmisery666 for being so patient and supportive! Thank you for being my beta! Your comments were so incredibly helpful!

The best part about working with Bucky was that you got to see him everyday. The worst part was that you were constantly reminded that he wasn’t attracted to you.

You knew you were a good looking woman, people would often tell you that. It usually happened when you weren’t necessarily feeling your prettiest. Somehow that made it worse. Others would compliment you but he never would. Even when you knew you looked good- like you had put in extra effort and actually tried that day- still he would give you nothing.

You sat across from him in the common room looking at all the other Avengers wondering why he didn’t feel the same when you finally got your answer.

“Alright man,” Sam called out to the group. “Top five, let’s go.”

“Top five?” asked Clint, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. “Top five what?”

Everyone looked back to Sam, - “Top five on who you think is lookin’ most fine”.

“You want us to rate each other?” You asked incredulously.

“Naw, man!” Sam replied. “I want to know who you think are the top five most attractive! Male and female!”

You slunk back into the sofa, both curious and terrified of the conversation to come.

You heard huffs from the others but no one objected. Vision went first and of course he could only answer with; “I believe all of you are inherently lovely. I couldn’t possibly pick a top five of those who I find to be most attractive.” As soon as he finished and the room was no longer focused on him though he leaned over to Wanda and said something in her ear that made her blush.

You brought your cup up to your lips to hide your smile. You loved how happy they were after having been through so much heartbreak.

Sam went next, “Imma say, Wanda, Nat, Gamora’s got it goin’ on…for an alien…Hill - don’t tell her I said that- and…Y/N,” he said throwing you a wink.

You smiled but shook your head with a roll of your eyes. You knew the only reason he said your name was because you were in the room. He was trying to be kind. Men didn’t seem to be actively lining up to be with you…it might have something to do with them being intimidated by you being an Avenger but who could possibly know

“Sam you would think anything with legs that gave you the time of day was hot,” Bucky shot.

The others laughed but Sam shot back, “alright, Tin Man, who’s on your list? Okoye?”

“Yeah for one! I would be dead before I could make a move but sure! She’s dangerous and stunning!” He took a swig of bourbon as if he was done.

“Alright then who else?” Wanda leaned forward winking at you.

You shot her a warning look. You had only told her how you felt about Bucky once on a drunken night after finding out he had gone on date with another recruit. Jealousy had reared its ugly head and she could feel your angst that night. You had asked Wanda how; “A tiny little thing that would barely hold her own in the ring,” could possibly catch his eye. It was as if the only thing he saw you as was an ear to listen to his problems and a soldier he could rely on in the field. You had seen them together multiple times since then and every time it pained you more.

She was everything you weren’t. Barely five foot, two inches tall with a skinny frame to match, and a nicely formed backside. In reality you couldn’t be mad at Bucky. He deserved to be happy. He was your friend and you wanted that for him. You just wanted that particular happiness too.

“Okay, okay!” Bucky’s hands came up in surrender as he finished his drink and leaned back to think, He sat so close to you his left bicep of his folded arms brushed yours with every breath he took.“Okoye? Sure…uh… in no particular order…Wanda, Nat, Darcy, and the little woman, Kris, from reception.”

“It seems, Mr. Barnes”, said Vision, “that you prefer mates who are significantly smaller than you. I do believe that of that group, Wanda is the tallest one.”

“Which isn’t really saying much because I’m only five, six”, she complained.

“The perfect height my dear.” Wanda smiled at that and kissed Vision’s cheek .

You took another long sip of your drink as you registered what had been said. Your stomach soured as you finished the glass. Not so much from the alcohol as from the realization that the man who you had secretly been pinning over didn’t even list you as attractive enough to make his top five.

You felt like you knew why. It was just too much. You weren’t small and dainty like those on his list. You had big bones and a can do attitude. You wouldn’t take crap from people. And because you were so tall you could come off as intimidating…or so some men had told you.

“I’m going to get another drink,” You whispered to no one in particular.

But Sam really couldn’t read a room and he called you out. “No, no! Who’s on your list Y/N?”

“Oh no!” You said dryly. “I’d have to be much drunker for that conversation. For now, I'll keep my opinions to myself.”

You spotted Bucky’s surprised face before you made your way over to the bar. The conversation carried on behind you as you refilled your glass. Thoughts of Bucky’s revelation clouding your mind. You were never going to be good enough for him because you were just too big. Too tall. Too much. He liked the smallest, most petite women in the compound. Feeling your emotions swelling,you decided to grab the bottle and made your way quietly out of the room while the ruckus continued.

Once on your floor you closed the door behind you with a forceful slam, “FRIDAY!! Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone!!”

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N.”

The rest of the night was spent on the floor in your sweats drinking from your bottle of whiskey and feeling sorry for yourself and all the things you couldn’t be because of biology.

You weren’t sure if it was a drunken stupor or your imagination but at one point you could have sworn you heard a knock only for it to go away just as quickly.

…

The next day you had an awful hangover and didn’t get out of bed. Bucky came to your door for your normal morning run.

“Tell him I’m not going, Friday.”

“He would like to know why, Miss.”

“Tell him it’s my time of the month.”

“Your time of the month was last week, Miss.”

“Who’s side are you on, Friday? Just tell him I’m sick.”

“Very well, Miss.”

It was silent for a few moments and you had thought that would be enough to get Bucky off your back for now.

“Mr. Barnes would like to know if you’d like to see Dr. Cho, Miss.”

“Uuuugggghhhh,” you rolled out of bed and marched over, irritated that the one person you didn’t want to see was at your door.Pulling it open with a huff you practically screamed. “What?!?”

“Woah!” Bucky jumped back startled at your disheveled appearance and puffy eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re alright, doll. You didn’t come back last night and you never answered the door when I came to check on you.”

So there was a knock last night.

You couldn’t look him in the eye as your eyes filled with tears again, this time with shame. “I’m fine, Bucky.” You started shutting the door quickly and he stuck his hand on it preventing you from closing it again.

“Y/N…what’s…”

“Bucky, I just need some rest okay?” You cut him off, “I’m fine. I promise I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” You smiled weakly.

Bucky searched your face as if trying to find what you weren’t telling him in your eyes. But you were an Avenger and you knew how to school your features to show nothing.

Bucky sighed and shook his head, “alright, doll. I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”

“Yes, fine,” you said pushing him out the door. Your eyes had flooded with tears again. You didn’t look up to see Bucky’s hurt and concerned face as you closed the door again and put your back to it.

You held your breath listening for his footsteps to retreat before sinking to the floor and crying.

…

The next day was an all out avoid Bucky day. You weren’t sure you could take the questions and worried looks he was sure to give you. Instead, you decided that what you needed was time away from such temptation. And so, you went in to ask Steve for an overseas long assignment.

“You sure about this one, Y/N. It’s a 9 month solo mission. It’s going to be long and it’s going to be lonely.”

“Yes. I’m sure. I need some time to myself.”

Steve looked at you with understanding and pity. He could see how you felt about Bucky even if he couldn’t get his best friend to see it as well.

“Alright,” he said, “suit up. You leave in 2 hours.”

South Africa wasn’t the worst assignment. It wouldn’t take long for you to get the information you needed. And the separation from Bucky would be good for you.

You finished checking your last weapon and loaded it as well as a pair of throwing knives, a gift from Bucky, into your duffle before looking around your room one more time.

You headed to the door and almost made it out until the picture of you and Bucky on your dresser made you stop. Picking it up you smiled at the memory of the minor league baseball game you’d attended together. You had won tickets and no one else was available that night. When you’d offered the tickets to Bucky you couldn’t believe that he said yes! It was the true start of your friendship, talking about life and how much it had changed for him but also how little it had changed for you. He couldn’t believe it when you started singing all the words to “I’ll never smile again”.

“You think I don’t know music? I’m quite cultured, Mr. Barnes!” You had said with a laugh.

“I never said you weren’t, sweetheart!”

Coming back out of your revelry with a start you put the picture back down on the dresser and turned to the door. You were going to get over this infatuation, even if it killed you. Supposedly time heals all wounds. Well you weren’t sure if there was ever going to be enough time but you could get distance.

…

Hours later Bucky came in to tell you about the relationship problems he was having with the girl from reception. She just didn’t seem to understand him and kept picking fights. You had become his confidant and had saved his relationship once before so would most likely be able to do it again.

He was almost to your room when he noticed your door was ajar. Slowing he moved closer and pushed it in silently. The room was neat and quiet. Your bed folded nicely as though it was always that way.

Bucky knew that you never made your bed until you were right about to get in it. Or unless you were going on a trip.

Checking carefully he started to notice things missing. Your favorite slippers were gone. Your tooth brush and favorite stuffed animal turtle were also missing. All of the things that you felt you had to have with you were gone.

Then he saw the picture frame on the dresser. Picking it up he too smiled at the memory, then frowned. It was still here. You almost always took this with you. Why was it still here but everything else you held of value was gone.

“Friday, where is Y/N?”

“Miss Y/L/N has volunteered for a mission, sir.”

“Where?”

“That information is classified.”

“Okay, when will she be back?”

“That information is classified.”

“Alright, who else went on the mission,” he asked hoping whoever it was would have your back.

“All other Avengers are currently in the compound.”

“So she went by herself?” Bucky fumed.

“That information is classified.”

“Damn robots!”

Bucky stormed out and found Steve in the kitchen.

“Where did you send her, punk!

Steve didn’t even look up from his newspaper, knowing exactly what his best friend was talking about.

“She’ll be fine, Buck. She just needs some time to herself.”

“So send her to Fiji! Not a solo mission!!”

“This is her call Bucky. You’ve got to trust her.”

Bucky spun on his heel and headed to the computer lab. He knew he was being irrational but if no one else was going to look after your well-being then he was going to have to do it himself.

It took him all day but he finally unencrypted the files for your mission. You were to carry out a recon mission in Port Elizabeth on a supposed Hydra base. It was a far cry from Fiji but you wouldn’t be in immediate danger.

Still he came in everyday to check in on your reports and find out how the events in the country were progressing. He had even convinced Torres to help him set up notifications to his phone if something were to go wrong. He had, very nicely, threatened him with knives if he didn’t set up Stark’s satellite to keep an eye on you.

After three weeks he was really starting to miss your company. Every time he went out with Kris from reception he realized that she just wasn’t as interesting as you. They didn’t have the same camaraderie and chemistry as the two of you did.

So when his phone dinged at 2:30am he looked at the notification. It was a satellite image of you on your apartment porch drinking coffee. You seemed at ease and calm at your small table. Your hair down and wearing a long red dress. He went to the live feed of the satellite but when he did you weren’t there.

Bucky refreshed the page again thinking it may be just an error. But his rising heartbeat made him think differently. When the screen came back he noticed the upturned coffee mug and the newspapers on the ground.

Bucky flew from his bed and raced down the hall to the command room. Steve and Tony were already there, still in their pajamas.

“…it’s not as if she has a tracker in her, Stark!”

“Well maybe she should! Maybe we should make it a standard issue! Everyone gets a tracker! Friday! Make a note!”

“Yes sir.” replied the AI.

“Tony, we need to focus on the…”

“Where is she?!” Bucky growled.

Both men turned around in surprise. Steve recovered first, his eyes sympathetic for his friend’s worry. “We’re not sure, Buck. These images were only taken 4 hours ago.” He clicked to zoom in closer, “but we did get this.”

He zoomed all the way into the kitchen window behind where you’d sat drinking coffee, where a face reflected in the glass. Bucky looked on in rage, hands in tight fists, as the image became clearer and Zemo came into focus.

…

You awoke with a start, unaware of your surroundings. You sat on a bed in a bare room with a single one way mirror. A metal chair sat by the wall and you noticed no handle on the door. Trying to piece together what had happened you recalled your last memory.

A beautiful morning, the sun shining on the water, a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You sat in your apartment in Port Elizabeth, a pain in your neck…

“Zemo,” you whispered.

“Ah, you’re awake,” said the speaker above you. “I’m sorry about the dramatics but it was necessary. You’re a very important piece of the puzzle.”

“Let me guess,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “You don’t like the way the world is being saved by the Avengers and you think you could do better.”

“Actually I want something else, мой дорогой. I need you.”

“What?” you cried befuddled. “Why on earth would you need me?”

“Do you know what TX-39 is?”

“Yes, I have an entire codex of arbitrary numbers logged away in my brain,” you retorted.

Zemo didn’t pause at your sarcasm. “TX-39 is the compound used to create nucleotides that bond onto nerve endings. By doing so they suspend brain signals stopping all neuro function and rendering the subject immoble. Something you have experienced first hand. By combining a nanotech inhibitor with this nerve ending your subject’s direct motor function is now open to...suggestions.”

You sat astounded as you registered what he had told you. You looked down at your hands but you didn’t feel different. There was no way something like this could work.

“What better way to get rid of a super soldier than to create your own?” Zemo said. You felt a slight buzz in your spine as you stood up quickly trying to resist. Running to the mirror you pulled back your arm, ready to punch your way out, but an inch from the glass your arm stopped. “Ironic that the Soldat will come to save you, only to be the one who needs to be saved.” With that you felt the electricity in your spine disappear and your body was your own again.

Frustration built within you as you sat back on the bed for a moment processing his statement. Your face became more and more incredulous until finally you burst out laughing. You continued laughing harder and harder at the absurdity of Zemo’s reasoning.

“You think I’m the one he is going to come after,” you laughed. “You think you picked the right mouse for your trap? You’re going to wait a long time if you think he’s going to come and get me.”

During your first few weeks away you had missed Bucky fiercely. Leaving him behind so abruptly had felt like severing a part of yourself, but the last few weeks had been good for you. You had forgotten what it was like to rely on yourself. You had grown into yourself again and had realized how little Bucky had actually cared for you when he never came to find you. He hadn’t so much as picked up the phone after you had left. It was as if you had never existed in the first place.

“Bucky doesn’t care about me,” you said sardonically. “He never has. We are barely even friends.You picked the wrong mouse, Zemo. ”

“We’ll see, дорогой,” and with a click he was gone.

Your brain shifted in and out of the conversation with Zemo. Looking down at your hands, you prayed it wasn’t true. You knew that what had happened at the window was real but you didn’t want to believe it. You had been turned into a weapon to hurt your friends. To hurt Bucky.

Crossing your arms over your chest you laid down on the bed, rolled over to face the wall, and cried.

…

Avengers Compound

“There is a five mile radius around Agent Y/L/N last known location,” said Fury. “Two man teams will sweep the area in a grid formation while the drones scan for energy signatures. Any questions?”

All those around the table sat silent, but nodded confirmation of their understanding of the objective. Fury looked around the room, “This mother fucker took one of ours and I wanna know why. Let’s get going.”

Bucky stood up from the table and made his way out of the room to the Quinjet hangar. Steve pulled on his arm before entering the plane. “I know what’s going through your mind right now Buck, but we are going to get her back”.

Bucky looked at the ground before raising his eyes to his friend. “He knew how to get to me, Steve. He always knows where to hurt me. He couldn’t use you. You’re too difficult to overpower. So he had to pick her. I just,” Bucky wasn’t sure how to finish his thought. Words never came easily to him and he wasn’t sure he could really express what he was feeling. “I just want her safe.”

After you had left Bucky felt hollow inside. He hadn’t realized how much joy you brought to his day with your smiles and jokes. Always knowing what to say, or at least, what he needed to hear. Your departure made him realize he needed you. Boarding the jet Bucky knew that no matter what happened he was going to tell you how he felt.

…

The team had been sweeping through the city for what felt like hours and there still hadn’t been any developments. Walking through another alleyway Bucky scanned the cobblestone streets. He was beginning to lose hope at ever finding you at all when he saw an uneven line in between two buildings.

Pressing his comm link he called out, “Steve, I’ve got something. I’m going to check it out.”

“Bucky, wait for backup. We’ll come to you.”

Feeling along the wall Bucky felt a draft between the cracks. Unholstering the gun at his hip he pushed against the wall feeling it give way.

“I’m going in. Follow my location.”

“Bucky, wait!” Steve called.

Bucky ignored his calls and continued down the dimly lit hall. The walls opened up to a staircase leading down to a command room. The musky scent of decay and scotch filled Bucky’s nostrils.

“Privet, Soldat,” Zemo called from the darkness.

Bucky whirled around to find nothing.

“Have you come for your little mouse?”

Still searching, Bucky said nothing as the sound came from a different corner of the room.

“Have you realized how much you miss her?”

Bucky circled again, coming up to a window.

“I wonder what it is? Is it her sweetness that draws you? Or her willingness to see you for more than the killer you are?”

Bucky frowned. Zemo was playing with him.

“Or have you realized that her fire is what draws you to her? She does have a talented tongue. I’ve seen her put it to good use,” Zemo provoked. “I have enjoyed having her in my company, but it seems you really never appreciated her spirit, did you?”

Bucky continued searching the room as Zemo continued his monologue. Coming up to the computer he saw a paused video feed. It played as soon as he stepped forward.

Bucky saw you in a room, still in your red sundress. Your hair was matted and you had the look in your eye of anger and exasperation. When you spoke, Bucky felt the wind rush out of his lungs.

“Bucky doesn’t care about me,” you said sardonically. “He never has. We are barely even friends.”

“A pity she never saw you care, but I suppose it’s only fair that you tell her now.”

The door beside the window clicked open with a beep. You came out of the cell with a look of wary surprise on your face. “Bucky?”

“Now is your moment, Sergeant Barnes. Why not tell her how you feel before it's too late,” called Zemo.

Bucky holstered his gun and walked toward you. “Y/N? Are you okay? Come on, let's get out of here.”

He grabbed your hand and turned to go but you were rooted to the spot. Your breathing became heavy as you felt the tingling sensation in your spine again.

“Bucky, I need you to leave,” you cried, dread dripping from your voice.

“What? No,sweetheart, come on! I’m not leaving you.”

“Bucky, I…” you started.

“Last chance to declare yourself, Soldat.”

Looking up in anger, Bucky yelled. “Shut up, Zemo. I’m not performing for you-” Bucky’s head turned in surprise as you punched him across the face. “What the hell, Y/N?”

“It wasn’t me!” you cried as you dropped and kicked his legs out from under him.

Bucky rolled over quickly to pick himself up as you followed him swinging punches at his head and kicks to his stomach. Your moves were both erratic and efficient as they landed multiple times. It was all Bucky could do to block your assault and move out of the way.

“This isn’t me!” you cried again between punches. “Zemo is controlling me with nanotech!”

Bucky threw up an arm to block your punch before flipping you around by your arm and pressing you to the wall. He didn’t want to hurt you but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t the most comfortable position.

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’re going to get you out of this.”

Your foot kicked his leg and you pushed yourself over and around his head and away from the wall. Grabbing the knife at his hip as you slipped out of his grip, you threw it into his thigh.

Bucky looked at you in surprise and annoyance. “Sorry!” you winced. Pulling the knife from his leg he tossed it to the floor.

“Look, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere, but try not to kill me, okay?”

“It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose Bucky!” you huffed as you charged at him.

“Well I’m just trying to get you out of the problem you put yourself in!” You had grabbed another knife and went to stab him. Bucky caught the knife and twisted your hand but the knife snagged your dress and tore the skirt as you fought to wrestle it away.

Your eyes flared with anger and the next punch you threw had a little extra heft in it.

“That I put myself in? How about you, Mr. Barge-into-a-room-with-no-back-up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you liked being saved! Although you’re one to talk! You came on a mission without backup!�� Bucky rolled across the computer console out of the way of your next kick, getting agitated at your attitude.

“Because I needed space!” you yelled as you followed him around the computer desk.

“Space? Space from what?” Bucky yelled back, actually throwing a punch that you easily evaded.

“You! You idiot!” it burst out of you as you came up swinging before pushing him to the ground.

Bucky looked up at you with his eyes wide. You had him straddled under your legs. Bucky brought his arms up to block your punches while he tried to talk to you.

“Why would you need space from me? I don’t understand. You left without warning, without saying goodbye! Your mission was classified so I had to hack F.R.I.D.A.Y to even find out where you were!”

Your body was starting to fatigue from the strain of the fight as you continued to land blow after blow. You were fit and well trained but because your body was not your own you were blowing through energy rapidly. Your breaths were coming in short gasps as your chest heaved at each punch. If you kept this up, you weren’t sure how much time you would have before your body gave out entirely.

“Y/N, you left a huge gap! You were my best friend and then you were gone! You wouldn’t even talk to me before you left! You didn’t tell me you were leaving. I couldn’t even call you because the mission was supposed to be classified!”

Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe the hopelessness you felt, but you gave him everything you had left as you pummeled into him. Frustration over your situation, frustration at him, frustration at yourself built up inside you.

“I WILL NOT BE YOUR STAND IN! I will not be second best. I can’t look on anymore as you find someone smaller, cuter, littler to fit perfectly into your life! I deserve to be wanted! I deserve to be desired!” you screamed at the man beneath you as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Bucky finally bucked his hips and flipped you under him, pinning your hands to the ground next to your head.

“Get off of me! Let me go!” you had finally had enough. The damn had broken and your emotions and insecurities raged inside you. Your body pulled and twisted to break free from his grip.

“You do deserve to be desired,” Bucky said calmly as he caged you beneath him. “You are nobody's stand in. You’re perfect just as you are.” He wanted to say more but it was all he could do to keep you pinned under him.

The team burst down into the control room to see you openly weeping and Bucky on top of you.

“Nat, I need you to put an electric burst in my arm.” Bucky said looking up.

“I’m sorry, you what?” asked Nat.

“Just do it!” he said as you fought harder against him.

With a nod from Steve, Nat waved her baton and zapped Bucky’s arm causing both of you to scream in pain. When your body finally stopped seizing, the lack of adrenaline and the pain and fatigue caught up to you and you passed out in Bucky’s arms.

“You want to explain why I just pushed fifty thousand volts through you two?”

“Zemo infected her with some kind of nano tech. She hasn’t been in control this entire time.”

Steve scanned around the room. “Alright team, fan out. See if you can find out where Zemo went. I want teams down here with sat links up in 30 minutes.”

Bucky circled the gears around in his arm to get it up and running again before scooping you carefully off the ground.

“Buck, get her on the next jet out. Dr. Cho and Banner will be waiting for you to get back.”

…

For the second time you woke up in an unfamiliar place, and struggled to get your bearings. You felt like you’d been run over by a pick up truck and tumbled through a dryer.

Feeling slowly returned to your hands as your eyes opened and your vision cleared. You were in one of the medical rooms at the compound you realized.

“Look who decided to wake up,” said a gruff voice.

Turning your head you saw Bucky sitting in the chair beside you. He looked fresh and his eyes twinkled at you.

“Bucky,” you croaked as you tried to sit up.

“Woah there. You just relax. Your body is still trying to catch up from Zemo’s nanites.”

You slumped back down in the bed as Bucky leaned forward to take your hand.

“You had me worried there for a minute, doll. You’ve been sleeping for days. Wasn’t sure when you were going to pull through.”

“You doubt me, Barnes?”

“Not for a second, sweetheart, but I sure as hell missed you.” Bucky smiled, then looked down for a moment as if trying to find the right words. “We need to talk about why you left, Y/N.”

“No, Bucky, I...it doesn’t matter.” You say looking away. “It’s not important.”

“I don’t know, I’d say you thinking you don’t matter to me is pretty important.” You turned to look at him sharply, mouth open in a small gasp. “And I’d also say that you thinking I don’t find you desirable is pretty important too.”

You sat in shock as he spoke, not wanting to break the way you had during your fight.

“Y/N, you are perfect. You knew me before I even knew myself. You light up the whole room just by being in it. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are strong, independent, kind, and gentle. You’re like a tall Asgardian goddess. Every inch of you is beautiful. I thought back to the last time we talked...before you left, and I realized why you did. I know why you thought I wasn’t attracted to you. That night, Sam’s list,” he paused as if pained at the memory, “I didn’t add you because...well, because I was so confused at how I was feeling. You were my friend. I didn’t realize till it was too late that I was already falling in love with you. And I most definitely didn’t want to give Sam anymore ammunition.”

You looked up at him sharply when he dropped the L word.

Bucky stood to reposition himself on the edge of your bed. Taking your face in his hands he leans forward until your foreheads barely touch. “I didn’t want to ruin things with you. You were my friend. You were perfect and I thought you deserved better so I ran to find something that was everything you weren’t. You are my perfect fit. You are just right. You are the only person I want. Please tell me you’re mine. Please tell me I haven’t lost you.”

You brought your hand up to rest over his as you let his words wash over you.

He wanted you. He thought you were beautiful. All of you. All of the parts people had told you were too much: your height, your attitude, your independence - he wanted it all.

You did something that you wanted to do for months, you brought your lips up to his softly and gave him a chaste kiss. “I was always yours Bucky,” You pulled his hands down and pushed him away to look into his eyes, “but I won’t be taken for granted anymore. I shouldn’t have to leave for you to want me. I shouldn’t have to be gone for you to realize what you had. I left for a reason. It was to find peace with myself. I realized that I didn’t need your approval. I didn’t need your desire to be whole. I won’t settle for someone who can’t see what’s right in front of them. I know my worth.”

Bucky looked at you sorrowfully as he held onto your fingers, memorizing their shape. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough.”

“I know, but it happened. I don’t need you to be happy, Bucky...” Bucky hung his head in dejection. “...But I do want you.”

Bucky looked up at you sharply to find your eyes full of love and warmth. You wanted him. Even after all that happened - how he forced you away, how he made you feel like you weren’t good enough, you were still willing to forgive him. You wanted him even with all his faults.

You brought him closer for another kiss and savored the way his lips fell across yours. Breaking away to look up at him you said what you had been holding in for months, “And I love you too.”

Tags: @princessmisery666 @dreamwritesimagines

[munvermaniac]

i really love the potential around jason's clearly fucked up religious upbringing. he seems so repressed and conflicted. i wanna see situations where they have to take breaks from making out because jason gets super pent up easily and isn't ready for anything serious quite yet. until recently he was convinced he was straight and waiting until marriage. (with supportive bf eddie obviously, always double checking boundaries)

Definitely. I saw a post that said something along the lines of “from Jason’s viewpoint Stranger Things is religious horror” and I definitely agree with that. As someone who was raised very Catholic myself (not oppressively so, but I hated going and made it very known to my parents) it really just, doesn’t leave you.

It would take a lot of work to even get to a point where he could realize and admit he’s queer, and much more to accept it. I think he’d have a mental breakdown when he realized he likes Eddie, a satanist, a boy. He’s spent all this time thinking of Eddie as the freak when really he’s exactly like him, maybe worse.

He always thought he’d settle down with a nice girl, get a white-picket-fence house in the suburbs, and have a few kids. None of that can happen. What will his parents think? His family? His team? His entire community would abandon him if they found out. Not everyone can be as accepting as Steve.

When they’re dating, they definitely have to take it slow, because there’s always that little voice in the back of Jason’s mind that calls him a sinner, an abomination. These feelings are disgusting and unnatural, he’s been told his entire life, and he believes it. It’s quieter now, but there’s times when it gets really bad and he almost can’t even look at Eddie.

Eddie, of course, is very supportive and tries his best to help Jason through it, but it’s really hard on his wellbeing too. He gets that Jason’s trying—they both are—it’s just that sometimes when Jason has his freak outs it reminds him of the times before they were dating when they hated each other.

But over time (and probably a good bit of therapy) they can have a happy relationship and maybe move in together. I personally headcanon Jason as being really good with kids, so I think he’d so into childcare of maybe become a teacher. Eddie, of course, holds DND sessions at their apartment weekly, and when he’s not planning for his players, he’s working on his breakout album with his band!

I’d like to think that Eddie would also become a huge activist for queer rights, but I feel like Jason would always be hesitant about coming out publicly. Maybe Eddie can eventually convince him to go to a pride parade with him!

[unwrittenlibrary]

be still my foolish heart (don’t ruin this on me)

Summary: bucky barnes doesn’t have very many people left in his life who care, but he has you... or; five times you and bucky show your love & the one time you finally say it. (bucky x fem!reader)

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: fluff & pining. no major spoilers of tfatws. 

Notes: hi! i was going to try and maintain separate accounts to keep my writing organized, but i am lazy and can’t switch back and forth all the time. so! here’s to me now being a multific blog! i hope this does not upset my current followers (and maybe brings some new ones in) this was originally posted my ao3 . happy reading! 

I.

You’re the only person who calls him James. It fluctuates between Buck and James, but either way, you’re the only person allowed to call him either.

He thinks his name just sounds so pretty coming from your mouth. He doesn’t want to hear anything else. Doesn’t really want you to call him Bucky because then it won’t sound right when anybody else does.

So you’re the only person that calls him James. The only person he lets call him James.

“James.” You say softly as he falls onto your couch. He’s got a black eye and a busted lip and he knows there’s nothing he can say to quell your worry. So he settles with a smile that causes a wince that makes you let out a breathless laugh. “I told you to be more careful.”

You sit on your coffee table across from him and lean forward with the washcloth in your hand. His eyes fall to his lap and he nods. “You should see the other guy.”

You shake your head tensely as you gently wipe at the dried blood carefully to avoid the bruise still forming. “James. I’m serious. You’re not invincible.” He raises an eyebrow and you sigh. “You may be a super soldier, but you can still get hurt. I hate seeing you hurt.”

You lean back and drop the cloth onto the table next to you. “I know, doll.” You shake your head at the nickname and he smiles. You had told him you thought it was corny, but as long as you called him James, he would call you doll.

And he knew you secretly liked the nickname.

The same way you knew he secretly liked to hear his name when you said it.

“I have some vaseline in the bathroom. We can put it on your lip and then you need to get some sleep.” You pull him by his hand down your hall.

He glances out the window of your bedroom before you pull him into the bathroom. “I don’t need to sleep, the sun is still out.” He says quietly as you search through your cabinet.

You look up sharply. “You need sleep. I’ll be right here, okay?” You stand up straight and lift some vaseline with a q-tip. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Your eyes focus in as you gently apply the vaseline to Bucky’s lip.

He has to force himself not to smile. The cut will be gone by tomorrow and this will have been all for naught as it won’t affect how it heals. He appreciates the comfort it gives him. He relishes in the warmth that came with your care and love for your friends.

You step away with a proud smile. “I think I’m supposed to do the protecting, doll.” He says quietly. He desperately wants to reach his hands out and settle them on your waist.

Feel the warmth through your worn out sweatshirt and pull you close. But he doesn’t, afraid of something but unsure of what exactly, so he smiles graciously.

“We protect each other, James. In different ways.” You say just as quietly.

It’s all Bucky needs to get a couple comfortable hours of sleep in your room.

II.

He calls you every night. Or at least he tries to when he’s not in DC. Sometimes they’re so busy he doesn’t get the chance.

Tonight was one of those nights. He stares desperately down at his phone, urging the time to change so it was earlier in the night. He couldn’t call now. Not in the middle of the night when he knew you were asleep.

“You gonna go to bed?” Sam asks quietly from his spot in the living room. He’s been sitting silently with Bucky since they returned to the hotel, but Bucky could tell he was exhausted.

Bucky nods. “I’ll sleep out here.” He says quietly and unwilling to claim a bed. He couldn’t sleep in one for a full night, he could barely nap in yours when you forced him to rest.

Sam frowns and they both know he understands Bucky’s fear of the too big and too soft bed sitting empty in the other room. But the man nods before disappearing into his room and shutting the door behind him.

Bucky rests his head against the back of the couch and begins to take deep breaths. His phone vibrates in his hand and his eyes widen when he sees your name flash across the screen.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Doll? What’s got you up so late?”

You laugh quietly. “Just knew you needed me.” You say after a moment of silence. “We’ve got that telepathy. I know things.”

Bucky laughs softly. “Yeah? You just knew?” He finds himself believing your words, even though he knows the more likely scenario is that you couldn’t sleep either.

You sigh into the phone and Bucky shuts his eyes again. “Sam texted me, but I was already awake. I switched shifts with the night nurse today, so I’ll be awake all night.”

“You know you don’t have to call when you’re at work.” Bucky says quietly. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

You laugh. “I have a few minutes to myself while the other nurse mans the station. Most of the kids are asleep, so I can spare some time for you. Especially when you need me.”

Bucky nods for a second before realizing you wouldn’t be able to see it. “Thank you.”

“What’s wrong, James?” You ask in a whisper. He listens for a moment as you take a sip of something, probably your water, before deciding to answer.

“This is longer than I thought I’d be gone…” He trails off. Him and Sam were originally only supposed to be in New York for a few days, a week tops, but this mission had dragged on and it had already been almost two weeks. “I…” He trails off.

He missed home. Something he’d never thought he’d think of DC as. Brooklyn had been his home and he was only a bridge away. Brooklyn had been his home. Steve. Wakanda for a short period of time.

But Steve was gone. And he was no longer recovering under the Wakandans graceful care. Brooklyn was a distant memory and DC… Well DC had you. And at some point you had become home for him.

“I know.” You say quietly, like you understand his silence. You do, he supposes. You understand almost every part of him. You understand that he missed you and home , but that he still struggles to admit his feelings. “I miss you too, James.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, but he doesn’t really have a chance to. He hears a siren in the background then you rush out, “Shit. I have to go!” Then all that’s there is a dial tone. Bucky smiles though. You’re off to be a different kind of hero.

He sits in silence and lets your words wash over him. It was new having all these people who cared about him. Decades all alone and treated as a weapon made learning to let people in again a new kind of difficult.

But it didn’t feel as hard with you there to help, he thinks

III.

He has to force himself to keep his eyes open. His nightmares had been particularly awful this week, and now he was sitting beside your heavily asleep body.

He was stuck staring at the repeating trailer on the netflix screen. Logically, he knows he could close his eyes and rest his head against yours on his shoulder.

But he was terrified a nightmare would take over and he would wake you up with a jolt, or worse hurt you if it was particularly awful.  

So, he forces himself to stay awake and watches the movie trailer again. He thinks you would like the movie.

“Buck.” You mutter tiredly. His eyes snap to you and he finds your eyes open and staring up at him. “Aren’t you tired?”

He shakes his head gently, careful to not move you. You narrow your eyes and slowly sit up. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You can stay here tonight.”

Bucky hesitates as you stand. He watches as you stretch your entire body and has to force his eyes to his lap when your shirt rides up and your stomach shows.

He had never spent the night at your place. He had spent all day. Even napped at your place often when he came over in the afternoon and you forced him to rest.

He always left before you went to sleep though. So he could suffer through his dreams on his own. So he didn’t drag you down.

You look down at him with soft eyes. “Grab some water. I’ll be in my room, okay?”

“I can go home. I don’t want to intrude.” He answers. Bucky looks out your window and sees just how dark and dead the streets outside were. It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about walking home.

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish. “It’s late and you’re tired, I don’t want you getting hurt. Stay here.” The words are quiet but hold a fierceness that Bucky knows not to argue against.

He nods. “I’m gonna grab some water then.” The nerves coiling around his stomach is almost worth it when your face lights up and you nod excitedly.

The two of you split up in the hall. You moving towards your bedroom and him into the kitchen. After pouring a glass of water, he stands still for a moment and just studies the room.

Your counter is crowded. Different appliances pushed against the wall, ready to be pulled out and plugged in whenever you wanted. A utensil holder stuffed to the brim with spoons and spatulas that seemed to keep appearing. Mail piling up on the counter. A scrub top draped over the back of one of your barstools.

Your kitchen was crowded, but lived in and so very you that Bucky loved it. He loved you, he thinks almost hesitantly.

He pushes the thought to the back of his mind when you call his name out. He knew he cared about you deeply and he loved you as a friend but this feeling in his chest and the speed of his heartbeat makes him think maybe he’s started to feel more. Or maybe he always has.

He doesn’t want to ruin this though. So he pushes the thought away and makes his way towards your room. “I can sleep on the…” His words die on his tongue when he sees the small set up of blankets and pillows beside your bed.

You’re watching him nervously as you try to gauge his reaction. Bucky is stuck standing in stunned silence as he looks it over.

You’ve pulled out a thin duvet and placed it on the ground with extra pillows and blankets for him to lay on. “I remember Sam mentioning soldiers have a tough time sleeping through the night in a bed. Obviously you can sleep in the bed if you want but I just figured that…” You trail off and gesture towards the makeshift bed with a small flourish.

“This is…” He trails off. The warmth in his chest grows with each passing second and his heart races. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

A smile spreads across your face. “Good. Good. I was… I’m glad. And I’m right here if you need me. To protect you.” You say with a teasing glance as you crawl into the bed.

You lay on the side closest to where you’ve set up the floor for him. He laughs softly before moving towards his own space.

He’s still nervous to sleep in the same room. Still feels a little self conscious as he lays his head on the pillow and pulls the light blanket over him. But you don’t seem to really mind his presence as you make yourself comfortable above him.

He takes a deep breath. He definitely loved you.

And things like this gave him hope that you did, or maybe could, love him too.

Later that night he jolts awake with heavy breaths and you look down at him with worried eyes. He shakes his head when you open your mouth not wanting to talk about the dream.

It’s the same thing every time. People that he hurt who didn’t deserve it. The pain of his memories being erased. And he doesn’t want to weigh you down with his trauma anymore than he already has.

You watch him for a moment before nodding silently. Bucky thinks that’s the end of it but he’s shocked when your hand falls off the side of the bed palm open.

He glances up at you and you smile gently but say nothing. He reaches his right hand up and interlocks his fingers with yours.

It’s a little awkward and his arm tenses after a few minutes but it’s far too comforting for him to want to let go. Your hand tightens in his and Bucky finds it easier to fall asleep his hand intertwined with yours.

IV.

Bucky felt awkward in the hospital. He felt too hard and intimidating to be standing in the center of the pediatric ward waiting for you in your teddy bear scrub top and white bottoms.

“Excuse me?” He glances down when he feels a tug on his hand. There’s a young boy standing in front of him with wide eyes. “You’re friends with Captain America?”

Bucky hesitates for a moment before answering. “Yes.” He settles on saying as gently as he can.

He glances around in search of you. He had texted you when he arrived at the hospital and you had responded with a thumbs up, but he was assuming you had gotten busy in the time in between.

The boy squeals excitedly. “Is he here too? Can I meet him?”

Bucky shakes his head softly and kneels to be at eye level with the boy. “He’s home with his family.” When his eyes begin to water and his lip pouts, Bucky begins to panic. “But! I’m sure he’d love to visit soon! I can bring him! What’s your name?”

“Riley!” He looks up at the sound of your voice. A large smile spreads across your face at the sight of Bucky kneeling before the kid.  You say something to the nurse beside you before rushing down the hall towards them.

“Riley.” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing out of bed? You’re supposed to be in bed.” You look down with imploring eyes and the young boy looks away with an embarrassed smile.

“But! It’s Bucky! He’s Captain America’s sidekick.” Bucky’s mouth falls open in shock at the boy's statement.

“Sidekick?” Bucky asks in an offended tone. “Well-“ He cuts himself off when you look at him with exasperated eyes.

“And he said he would bring Captain America in! To meet me!” The boy's excitement obviously leaves him ignorant of Bucky's offense at being called a sidekick.

“And I’m sure he will. But right now you should be in bed.” You say sternly. The boy nods dejectedly and allows you to lead him back into his room.

When you come back out a large smile spreads across your face at the sight of Bucky standing and wiping his hand against his pants.

He can’t help but reciprocate the same large smile. He drops the bag in his hand on the counter beside him and opens his arms as you slam into him with your arms around his waist.

“Thank you so much! I thought my night was ruined!” You pull away but don’t let go as you smile up at him. “We can eat in the cafeteria.”

You grab the bag before he gets the chance to. You turn to the nurse that was sitting and going through charts next to you and with a big grin say, “Page me if you need me, I’ll be in the cafeteria!”

The woman nods with a soft laugh before looking down at the computer. You take Bucky’s hand in yours and begin to pull him towards the elevator.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I know hospitals aren’t your thing.” You say quietly as the two of you step in. You lean away and press the two button.

Bucky thinks for a moment that you’re going to let go of his hand now that you’re not leading him anywhere but you don’t. Bucky smiles at the thought of this becoming a normal occurrence.

Your hand just felt right in his.

“Anything for you, doll.” He says quietly. He glances at you quickly before looking back at the descending numbers. “You’re my best girl.”

You nudge him with your shoulder as you laugh quietly. “That sounds like a line right out of the forties.”

Heat rises to Bucky’s cheeks but he laughs along. “You can take the man out of the forties but you can't take the forties out of the man.”

The two of you look at each other before you both burst out laughing. When the elevator stops on your designated floor you pull him out with you.

“As long as I get to be on the end of all that forties charm, I don’t mind a bit.” You lean into his side and smile brightly.

Bucky looks away as his cheeks turn an even brighter red. You giggle quietly when he looks back down at you. “Yeah. It’s always you at the end of it.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment before you pull him into a crowded cafeteria. “Let’s eat before I’m paged back to my floor.”

V.

Bucky had grown more comfortable around you the longer you knew each other, but he still struggled to be fully comfortable with his arm.

It was a different arm, Steve had said once what felt like forever ago. He had rationalized with Bucky. His other arm had been attached to him and forced on him as a weapon. This arm had been made for him with peace in mind. It was untarnished. Mostly.

But a different arm didn’t change much for him. He had still caused so much pain with it. Was it really that different at all? His arm had always and will always be looked at as a weapon.

So he still wore long sleeves and a glove most of the time. Rarely let you see his biggest shame. You usually didn’t push. Sat on his right side. Held his right hand. You rarely said anything about it, it was almost like it didn't exist.

But, curiosity won out sometimes.

“Why won’t you let me see your arm?” You ask quietly one night. He’s sitting on one of your bar stools as you mix a pasta sauce in front of him.

It had been silent most of the night. You insisted on cooking your famous (at least that’s what you called it) pasta dish after not seeing him for a few days as a welcome home.  

Bucky looks up at you with shocked eyes. You had never mentioned wanting to see his arm. He had assumed you didn’t want to.

“I… I don’t know.” He says quietly. He taps his fingers, his flesh fingers, against the counter top nervously. You watch him with hopeful eyes waiting for a real answer to the question. “I guess it’s easy to pretend it’s not there when someone’s never really seen it.”

“Hm.” You mumble in response. You step away from the stovetop and move towards him. “Why would you want to pretend it doesn’t exist? It’s a part of you.”

Bucky looks down at the gloved hand in his lap. “Doll… It’s not… It’s an ugly part of me. Dark and violent. And when I’m with you I get to pretend I’m not that.”

You come to stand in front of him. “There are no ugly parts of you. There’s you. There’s dark and there’s hurt and traumatized parts, but no part of you is ugly. Because on the other end of those there’s bright and happy and healing. Growth. James Buchanan Barnes, I can’t emphasize how beautiful I think you are.”

You raise your hand to rest it against his cheek and force him to look up at you. He shuts his eyes and leans into it. “And I’d really like to see your arm. To know that part of you too, but I won’t make you show me. I want you to show me on your own time.”

Bucky lets himself relish in the softness of your hand against his cheek before leaning away. “Okay…” He takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

He begins to shrug out of his jacket when your hand comes to rest on his right shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I need you to know that.” You say quietly.

Bucky gives you a small smile. “I know… Doll, you’re the person I trust most in the world. I want you to know me. All of me.”

You smile down at him and take a step back to give him space. Bucky shrugs the jacket off quickly before he can second guess himself. The glove comes off next and Bucky feels strangely naked as your eyes trace over him.

“Buck…” You trail off. Your hand comes up before pausing. You look up at him with questioning eyes and he nods. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and you raise his sleeve up a tiny bit to look at the scars that litter his shoulder.

Bucky rarely looked at the scars there. Decades of the arm built by HYDRA had destroyed so much of his skin it had taken forever for Shuri to properly fix and build his new arm.

Your hand moves from his shoulder to the metal arm and your fingers trace over the plates and move through the lines of gold. You move your hand in silence. Slowly taking in the creation.

“This is beautiful.” You finally say quietly as your hand meets his. You interlock his metal fingers in yours and he pulls you closer. You look down at him with a sincere smile. “How could you ever think this is anything but beautiful?” You ask quietly.

Your other hand comes to rest on his cheek again. Bucky looks up at you and sees a flurry of emotions flicker in your eyes.

Part of him wants to pull you down and kiss you senseless. Show you how much he appreciates your never ending warmth.

But he can’t bring himself to ruin the moment. Finds that he doesn’t really want to. He enjoys being here intertwined with you.

And I.

He doesn’t hide his arm from you anymore. Finds himself shedding his jacket and gloves the second he’s inside your apartment.

You don’t really say anything, but he’s noticed the smile on your face whenever you notice him in his short sleeve shirt. He thinks one day he’ll be ready to go out without gloves on. He’ll wear short sleeves out in the summer instead of covering up with the jacket.

But now with you, it feels like progress enough.

You sit on his left most of the time now, like tonight, and hold his metal hand in yours like it’s flesh. It had taken some getting used to. He had flinched away the first time you’d done it, but now it felt almost like habit.

You didn’t seem to think leaning against his metal arm was uncomfortable at all. Never showed signs of discomfort when your head rested against his shoulder.

“I love you.” You say quietly. So quietly Bucky almost doesn’t hear it. He freezes for a moment before swallowing and nodding. He assumes you mean the words as a friend, he had heard you say them to Sam and your other friends from work.

“Me too.” He says just as quietly. He’s sure if he says the actual words you’ll see just how much he means them. How terribly in love with you he is.

But that doesn’t seem good enough because you sit up and place a gentle hand on his cheek that forces him to look you in the eyes.

“James, I love you.” You say the words with so much passion that Bucky knows without hesitation that you mean you’re in love with him. That you loved him as more than a friend.

Tears gather in his eyes as he nods. “I love you too, doll.” He laughs wetly as a smile spreads across your face. “God. I love you so fucking much it’s scary.”

You laugh too. “Good. I was so fucking scared. Buck, you’re my best friend. I… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Bucky’s hand moves from his lap to your cheek before landing behind your neck. He pulls you in and when he kisses you and you kiss back he thinks he finally understands how much you love him.

Moments flash in his mind as you crawl onto his lap so you’re straddling him. Your constant patience with him. The gentle way you say his first name. The bright smiles and great excitement.

The ability to see the beauty in him.

You pull away with a deep breath and begin peppering kisses across his face. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You say quietly.

Bucky shuts his eyes as he relishes in your affection. “I love you too.” He murmurs. You had become his home.

Somebody who could mend the crack caused by Steve’s departure. Different aspects of his life, yes, but you had helped him heal nonetheless.

He loved you.

And you loved him. You always had. It had just taken Bucky some time to understand how you showed it.

[strangermarvelss]

Really liked the latest chapter and the space it gave to let the previous chapter’s events percolate. But I’m going to go with an unpopular opinion (lol I think). I like Steve, he is obviously sweet, but I actually don’t want him to be the one she ends up with. For one, he’s a friend of the couple and it just seems too easy and a little cliché maybe. That this hot dude’s waiting in the background to swoop in and fix everything. Two, this is a me issue but I might have read things wrong and assumed this would ultimately be an Eddie x reader fic (not Steve x reader) and while I like Steve and I’m okay with them hooking up, I hope the action goes back to Eddie and that Steve remains a secondary character. But that is just my hope and what I assumed, obviously if that’s not how it’s going to go that’s absolutely fine, I’m just thinking ahead of how to prepare myself if it ends with pure angst with Eddie instead of fluff with him bc that’s not what I expected and I don’t want to be bummed out. I know that sounds dumb, it’s just a work of fiction, but it stays in my mind.

Third, people fuck up all the time. Constantly. We fuck up and it hurts people we love. I think the first instinct is to walk away and never forgive but irl that’s not always how it goes. Sometimes the person you love does something stupid that hurts but they are truly sorry and change and put in the work and you find it in your heart to forgive and not lose that love because it’s stronger than all the other stuff, and there’s history and time and growth together. I’m not talking about abuse or repeat manipulation. But I do think men making stupid immature decisions is common, even if they are ’“nice” guys who mean well. I think if they can turn it around and make it up to the person they hurt, it can move forward. I mean, personally it would take A LOT for me to try to work things out with Eddie. I would need grand gestures and groveling at my feet, sobbing, pleading, signing up for marriage counseling for as long as I decide and putting in the work, really showing up and being the best dad and husband he can be, you would need to see the effort every fucking day. I would need to hear and feel that I’m the only person he loves and wants every day, because I’d be insecure and would need to repair that. I’d need all of that in writing with an ultimatum that if he falls off the wagon, I’m out and seeking custody of our kid. And if he really loved me and wanted us back above all, he’d do all of that and more happily. If I loved someone deeply and thought we were soulmates and really felt their remorse and intent to make things better, I might leave that door open and see if they could make it up to me and our family. Anyways that’s my pov, that while he did something terrible and stupid, he might have a chance to save things if she’s willing to give it.

i think the way you worded this was quite nice and kind of summarizes my feelings on the series as a whole. i don't think you're in the minority when it comes to people not wanting steve and reader to get together, i think its maybe 50/50 but i'm also not counting lol.

i agree that men do stupid shit all the time and sometimes it works out in their favor and they get back together and have stuff happen. my cousin cheated on his wife a while ago, and today they're still together and seem very happy with one another, so things can change if the effort is put in. not saying i condone cheating or anything, thats just fucked. but you get what i mean.

eddie would have to put in a lot of effort to be able to bounce back from his actions, seeing as reader is still emotionally scarred from the confession and their child is...well, you'll see in the next chapter what christopher is up to. i know how it's all going to play out, so i'm not going to give spoilers, so i'll just leave it here: we will just have to see what happens. reader could end up with no one too, just deciding to chose herself and happiness. who knows :)

[bittermuire]

a nightlight and a bottle of wine

recently I’ve really loved nezriel and wanted to write a lil thing for them. this will be two parts, this is the first. modern au

---

It’s not like Nesta really knew what she was doing when she moved out. All she knows is that there is a rift between her and Feyre; a scar splitting their shared skin, a wound opening and reopening, never to heal.

And so she’s away. They’ve made their mistakes and let them be. They’ve hurt each other and even tried to love, but sisters love each other too much for love—and so she’s away. The guilt is still there, but farther from her, now. Nesta stirs it into her morning coffee and drinks the sleep, wiping it from beneath her eyes and the lines around her mouth.

Every so often Cassian will text her, inviting her out to dinner or to a work party, and Nesta resists the urge to throttle him. He’s a very smart, thirty-five year old man. He should know what cutting off someone means.

(He knows, of course he knows. She guesses he just thinks it doesn’t apply to him.)

His roguish charm, his smirk, his low voice, all inviting her to one thing—sex—was beginning to exhaust her. It’s a surprising relief to be away from him. She feels like she can wear tank tops and let her hair down and go out without a bra, relieved he won’t be there to stare.

(Was she really so afraid of him?)

So Nesta lives her life and drinks her coffee, wears her tank tops and sleeps in her underwear, finally a woman in the way she’s always wanted to be; she feels discrete from the rest of the world but in a near comforting way. She has no one to disappoint, no one to miss. Her world is confined to very few people and her mind allows for one.

•

But there are things that trip her up. Remaining ties.

One such: the nightlight clipped to her bed. It’s cheap, a gaudy silver. She’s sure Azriel bought it for no more than two dollars.

But she uses it every night.

(This trips her up.)

It’s a routine she’s given to herself, written into the margins of her life; she climbs into bed, smooths the blankets over her legs, grabs her book, opens it on her lap, then twists and switches on the light. It illuminates the page with a pretty, golden sun. She uses it religiously. She thinks that if she lost it, some intrinsic part of her might be lost as well, and this frightens her.

Remaining ties should be snipped. These last threads should be spooled up, put away, hidden in the bottom drawer.

She switches it on anyway, watches the light trace the letters.

(Sometimes she thinks she is the black stamp of letters. The utter bleakness of them on the smooth page. Sometimes she thinks she is what ruins the paper. She is what ruined the paper. There’s a reason she is here and they are there.)

•

November 19th.

Happy birthday to me.

She buys a cake from the supermarket and blows out the candle.

There’s a knock at the door, late at night. Not thinking to check, she goes to open it, and there stands Azriel, still in the doorway, bottle of wine in hand.

“Happy birthday,” he says bluntly.

She lets him in for some reason she still doesn’t understand, and they end up drinking a glass together. It’s from Cassian, the wine—his favorite. Azriel tells her that Cassian didn’t think she’d take it from him.

“So he asked you,” she says.

He smiles. “Because you like me.”

1:00 AM, and they’re still drinking. They barely talk. They just sit; they sit on the kitchen stools, then the rickety chairs, then the floor, then the couch, then back to the floor. His cheeks are pink, his words slurred.

“Why’d you come?” she asks, peering down at where he lays, splayed out, on the carpet.

(He’s not the kind for favors, she knows that.)

Opening his eyes, he fixes his gaze on her. He smiles sleepily.

“Happy birthday, Nesta.”

•

She doesn’t really celebrate for the holidays. Her apartment is bare, save a pair of twinkling bells on the kitchen counter, tied with a red ribbon. Sometimes when she’s cooking she’ll give them a little ring.

The letter comes in the mail—from Feyre, clearly put there by her own hand. It’s an invitation to dinner, for the winter solstice. They’re celebrating early this year because they’re going out of town for a few weeks.

(Please don’t feel pressured to come. We were going to leave you be but Az, since he’s so considerate, thought you might appreciate an invite.)

Nesta picks up her phone and texts Feyre a simple no thanks.

•

The next morning, she opens her door to a bottle of wine. Its neck is tied with a cherry red ribbon, and there’s a note—“If you’re ever lonely, give me a call. It’s my favorite.”

She doesn’t need to see who it’s from to know.

She smiles and picks it up, taking it inside.

•

It bites, the loneliness.

She wasn’t prepared for the quiet.

She traded in insults and jabs and sweaty hands at dinner tables for nothing, nothing, nothing. Silence in the shower, silence over breakfast. Over time, it’s begun to grate on her skin, sift between the strands of her hair, and she feels like she’s swimming a meter below the surface, ears clogged, vision blurred.

And slowly, she’s started to cry; she cries when the silence is too loud, when her aloneness is real, when she realizes the ugly truth of it all. She’s alone, she has nobody, she’s alone.

She picks up her phone and dials his number. “Let’s drink your wine.”

A small quiet. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“I know, Nesta,” he laughs. “I’ll be there.”

•

They don’t drink at all, actually. She starts crying again the minute she sees his face.

“Nesta?”

•

“I’m fine, really.”

They’re walking down the aisle of the grocery store, weeks later.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m doing better, I am.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. Pick a flavor. We’ll eat it, we’ll watch a movie.” He looks her up and down, brow creased. “You need two things—no, make that three things.”

She huffs a laugh, sticking her hand into the freezer and pulling out a carton. “What?”

“Sleep, ice cream, and company.” He grins. “And now you’ve got me.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

•

He’s seen her beautiful; he’s seen her ugly. He’s seen her in her rattiest apron with flour crusted into her fingernails. He’s seen her laugh so hard she cries, watched her slam her head into an open cupboard door, driven her to the hospital when she sliced her hand open with a knife. They’re together a lot, she realizes. They’re not halves; they’re one and one, and one and one make two, and they stand as two together on sidewalks, squinting at menus in the windows of restaurants, and they pet dogs in the park (Nesta always asks, because Az gets shy), and they take walks at midnight, and they live their lives contentedly next to each other’s. She starts to wonder if he splits his life into two—into Cassian and Rhys and Mor and Feyre, and into her, the girl who walked away. She’d like to know why he followed her.

Sometimes she’ll catch herself staring. Even before Cassian, she’d thought Azriel was the most beautiful of the three; all graceful, sloping shadows, soft and deep eyes, curling black hair. Her heart doesn’t know what to do anymore. It skips a beat when she sees him, but calms when she’s near him. It races when he leans close, falls to steadiness when he slings his arm over her shoulders. She can’t decide if she loves him like this or loves him like that. He means so much to her, means so many different things, that to give him a singular word wouldn’t fit.

She calls him Azriel, Az, Steve, Steven Shadow, Mr. Shadow, Ralph, Ron, He of the Candied Pecans, You. He responds to all of it. Recently he told her that it wasn’t because of the name, but because of the voice—(of course I don’t know who Ralph is, Nesta, but your voice, it’s your voice you use for me)—and she felt warm for reasons she couldn’t understand.

She shows up unannounced at his apartment when it’s a bad night. He does the same.

•

“Tell me the truth,” she begins, tipsy. “Did you like me before?”

“What?”

“Did you like me before?”

He frowns. “Elaborate.”

“Before you learned I’m a nice person. Back at the townhouse. When I hated everyone and was rude to you.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little. “I always liked you,” he says, and then his face settles into something like sadness. Nesta watches him closely. “I didn’t like… the way you made me feel, though. I’d see you down the hall, tired and everything, a stick of a person, and Rhys would make some joke, and I’d hate him.”

She blinks.

He looks down. “I’d never hated him before.”

There’s a tension between them. It’s common enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be familiar. She’s on edge, unsure.

The silence seeps in.

“And I hated myself, too,” he says. His eyes flick back up to hers.

Her breath catches in her chest. “I hated myself because I didn’t do anything. So I stayed away.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, overwhelmed. Everything is building; everything is quiet. His eyes are deep and dark and swirling. He shakes his head slightly, leaning closer, slowly, slowly, and she sees it all happen—he takes her face in his hands. She can see the stray strand of hair on his forehead, the one eyelash resting by his nose, the mole right above his mouth.

“I watched you fade,” he breathes. “I watched them pull you around.”

She twines one finger into his hair, trying to bring him closer, trying to have him closer. Come here, Azriel. Come with me. Be with me, love me, because I love you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, because it’s all she can say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, and kisses her.

•

“Wait,” he says, reaching up.

“What?”

He touches the nightlight. “You kept this?”

She laughs, curled into his side, and says, “Of course I did.” He drops a kiss to her hair. “They all bought me books. You made it easy to read them.”

—-

@acosfisfeysandpropaganda I finally wrote it!!

[eternalowl]

Incorrect quotes to help cope with our impending doom part 3, the final part

I’m scared for the finale

Luz: Remain CALM! *slaps Hunter multiple times*

Hunter: What's gone wrong, Luz?

Luz: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis.

Hunter: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling?

Luz: Well... There’s a crisis.

*Hunter falls over*

Gus: Hunter! Are you alright?

Hunter: Is that you, God?

Gus: What?

Hunter: It's just, you sound a lot more like Gus than I expected.

Luz: Sometimes I'll start a sentence and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way.

Hunter: So oxygen went on a date with potassium, it went... OK.

Amity: I thought oxygen was dating magnesium, OMG.

Hunter: Actually oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like NO.

Luz: I thought oxygen had that double bond with the hydrogen twins.

Willow: Looks like someone's a HO.

Amity: NaBrO.

Gus: I'm done with all of you!

Hunter: What happened to your nose?

Luz: I used it to break some guy's fist.

Eda: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Steve: That's deep.

Hunter: That means that ketchup is a smoothie.

Steve: That's deeper.

Raine: ...You guys are idiots.

Hunter: I’m in love with you.

Willow: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Hunter: I know.

Willow: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Darius: How did you break your leg?

Raine: Do you see those porch stairs?

Darius: Yes.

Raine: I didn't.

King: It's not our fault!

Luz: Yeah, but... Come on, the least we can do is talk to them.

King: No, the least we could do is nothing!

Hooty, when Eda walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making King some pizza!

Hooty: *accidentally smacks King in the face with the baking sheet*

Lilith: *holds a gun out to Gus*

Gus: I-I don't believe in guns.

Lilith: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Steve: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk.

Steve: *cuts piece of cake*

Kikimora: ...Can I have some?

Steve: Cake is for talkers.

Lilith: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.

Belos: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Luz, nodding: Knife Monopoly.

Belos: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

King: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and killed it.

King: And I started thinking.

King: Like, it was just trying to get food.

King: What if I went to the fridge and it just slammed the door shut and snapped my neck?

Steve: Are you ok?

Lilith: I’ve been sleeping so little the past few nights that when I go to the alarm app, I click on the “power nap” button. I don’t set up alarms, I set up timers, Hooty.

King: I will send my army to attack!

King: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

Kikimora, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast.

Darius: You're kinda ugly.

Lilith: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong?

Luz: Strong.

Steve: Weak.

Darius: An idiot, is what you are.

Gus: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

[arkenfinity]

trying to get more used to sharing my writing. so here is this that i actually do not remember writing at all but i woke up the other day and found it in my notes app. my take on max’s letter to steve.

dear steve,

i was going to ask you to teach me how to drive. not now, obviously, not because i don’t think i’m ready but because i know you’d probably start crying your little eyes out if i even looked at the drivers side door of a car. hell, you’re probably crucifying me in your mind right now just for thinking about it. but when i turned sixteen, i was going to ask you to teach me how to drive. i can’t ask my mom, most days i don’t think she’s even safe to be driving herself, let alone teaching someone else. and i can’t ask billy for obvious reasons, but even if he was still here i’d ask you anyway.

the thing is, steve, is i trust you. i know you put on a big show of bickering with dustin and nagging us about responsibility and complaining that you’re always the one taking care of us, but i like to think i can see past that. i think underneath all that, you’re a lot like me. i think you’re stubborn and can’t admit when you’re wrong, and i think you’re just a little prickly to everyone so no one can see how much you actually care. i recognize myself in you, in a way that i never could with billy. billy was hard and angry and broken, and he took it out on the people around him. and i think, just like me, you’re worried that you’re like that too, that you’re a bad person who can’t do anything but hurt the people around them in the end.

but you’re not like that. i know you’re not, because i can get in the car with you. driving with billy was scary. did you know he almost ran over lucas, dustin, and mike on their bikes once? just to prove something to me. i had to reach over and jerk the steering wheel so he swerved into the opposite lane. and he yelled a lot. sometimes he would even grab me. and he always drove so fast, the music blaring. i guess that’s where i learned it all from, i didn’t really have another model.

but i don’t want to talk about billy. because you’re not him. and neither am i. and i know i can believe that of you, and hopefully you can believe that of me. and then both of us can believe in each other, because sometimes it’s hardest to believe in yourself i think.

so yeah. i wish i could ask you to teach me how to drive.

it’s too bad you don’t have any siblings, because i think you’d be a great brother. you are a great brother. there are some other things i wanna say too, but i don’t think i’m ready for that yet. turns out even the end of the world can’t force certain things. so in the meantime i’ll just say, i wish you could’ve taught me. i think i would love to drive with you.

from,

max

[auroracalisto]

Hi there! Love your writing and wanted to send in a quick request for a Bucky x Plus Size Reader fic. Reader is shy and socially awkward while her friend, Dottie, is seen as more attractive and social. As a result, most men notice HER rather than Reader. That is until Bucky comes along. Cue Dottie trying to flirt with him, much to reader's frustration. Would love to see a Reader, Dottie, Bucky love triangle, maybe some jealousy and pining that leads to smut?

hi!  a couple of things.  this didn’t really lead to smut but there are a couple sexual jokes/innuendos, and it might not entirely follow your request perfectly. there are also some negative comments about weight (all coming from dottie tho).  however, if you’d like me to redo it, just let me know!  sorry for taking so long, love.

It was always something like this.  You would be left alone, much to your dismay, as Dottie goes off with yet another man.  You couldn’t stay mad at her—she was your best friend, and she meant everything to you.  And yet, it still rubbed you the wrong way when she would just leave you without a second thought.  

Sometimes, after work, the two of you were supposed to meet by the elevators, so you could go out to eat.  Days like today.  Only today, Dottie was nowhere to be seen.  

You looked around the Avengers tower, sighing.  You were just a secretary.  You weren’t allowed above the floor in which you were stationed—if you were ever promoted, that would be a different story.  So you stood, waiting by the elevators.  Pulling out your phone, you tried calling Dottie, but to no avail.  She didn’t answer. 

You groaned softly and stuffed your phone back in your pocket, crossing your arms over your chest.  

The elevator doors opened up behind you, and you moved just slightly closer to the wall to avoid getting in anyone’s way.  You looked towards the elevator, locking eyes with Steve Rogers.  He was always nice—he also always greeted you with a smile when he came in.  But standing beside him was his best friend; Bucky Barnes.  When you turned your attention to him, you couldn’t help but try to keep your cheeks from burning.  He was looking right at you.  At least, you thought he was.  The slap on your arm drew you out of your mind.  

“[Your name],” Dot said, crossing her arms over her chest.  She was gorgeous.  He had to have been staring at her.  “Come on.  We’re going to be late because of you,” she rolled her eyes.  

You wanted to counteract.  But you stayed quiet, just nodding.  

As the two of you passed by Steve and Bucky, Bucky kept his eyes on you.

Steve waited until you both were gone before he looked at his friend.  “She’s really sweet, Buck.  Go for it.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Leave me alone.”

—

You saw Bucky more often, and you had even started talking to him on a daily basis.  However, you also started seeing Dottie more often as well.  She was always there when Bucky was around.  You thought it was odd, seeing as Dottie worked towards one of the back rooms and Bucky was an Avenger.  You never understood why he hung around your little nook until Dot blatantly flirted with him one day.  Right in front of you. 

“You know, I’m sure that hand of yours could do wonders,” Dottie said, leaning against the counter of your station, grinning in Bucky’s direction as he handed you a coffee.  

You hadn’t even asked for it, and yet, he got one for you from the breakroom.  

You diverted your attention from the kind man to your friend, your eyes wide.  “Dot, what the hell—”

Dot rolled her eyes again.  She had been doing that a lot, lately.  She just smiled, batting her eyelashes in Bucky’s direction.  “I’ve got a pretty nice place.  You could come by, we could watch a couple—”

“—no thank you,” Bucky smiled softly.  It took everything in him not to admit that he didn’t like her in that way.  No, he liked someone else.  But he didn’t have the guts to tell her that.  Not yet, anyway.  

“What?” Dottie stared him down, keeping her smile plastered to her face.  “Why not?  Am I not skinny enough for you?  I can work on that, cutie.  It’s not a big deal.”

Oh, you thought, she’s doing this on purpose.  

It was no secret that you were a bigger girl.  And while most days, you were perfectly fine with your body, snide comments like that always made you insecure.  And Dottie did that a lot.  You wondered if that was one of the reasons you weren’t surprised she said it.  

“I promise, doll, it has nothing to do with that,” Bucky said, staring right back at her.  He was appalled that she would even think that.  It didn’t even occur to him why she would say something like that until he looked at you.  He could see how uncomfortable you were and he clenched his jaw before making eye contact with Dot again.  “You know what?”

Dottie began to smile.  “What?”

“I don’t think we’re ‘meant to be,’” he softly scoffed.  “You’re pretty, but I don’t like you like that.”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, leaning against the counter again.  She kept her arms under her breasts, pushing them up as she talked to Bucky.  “You’ve got to be kidding.  We’d be perfect together.”

“Dot, just give it a break,” you said, getting to your feet.  “He said he doesn’t like you.”

Dottie broke her trance on Bucky, turning her full attention to you.  “I’m sorry, were you under the impression that I was talking to you?” she asked, letting out a curt laugh.  “I don’t know where you got that impression, but sweetheart, Bucky wouldn’t go for someone like you.”

“Like me?” you asked, tears stinging your eyes.  What a good friend she was. 

“Who the fuck said you know what I like?” Bucky huffed through his nose.  “Dot, leave.  Before I call security.  Hell, I’ll just take you out myself.  Don’t you ever,” he said, walking over to her, pushing her off the counter, “talk to [Your name] that.”

“What are you gonna do?” Dot leaned forward, close enough to his face that he could feel her breath on his lips.  

Bucky took a step back, glaring at the woman.  “Just go.”

Dottie stamped her heeled foot to the ground like a child before she looked right at you, once more.  You could feel the coldness radiating off her glare.  “You’re such a fucking fatass.  I was only ever friends with you because you made me look ten times hotter than I already was, bitch.”

She didn’t dare to look at Bucky, quickly rushing off before he could react.  

You bit your lip, holding back any more tears that you had.  

The man standing in front of your desk turned to face you, his anger washing into concern when he saw your tears.  

“Hey…”

He walked around to where you were standing and he pulled you into a hug.  You welcomed it.  You couldn't believe that Dottie acted that way.  You never thought she would say something like that, but you supposed there was always a side of people that you would never see until they didn’t get what they really wanted.  

“She’s not even pretty,” Bucky said, in an attempt to comfort you.

You laughed and pulled back.  “She is, Buck.  She is.  But… but her personality is shit, isn’t it?” you asked, looking up at him. 

Bucky smiled.  “Yeah.  Shit.”

You sniffled softly and wiped your tears away.  

“You don’t have to stick around here anymore,” you softly said, moving to sit back down in your seat.

Bucky took your hand rather quickly, stopping you.  “I only ever came to talk to you.  Dot was just a… roadblock.”

You narrowed your eyes for a moment.  “A roadblock?”  While you most definitely might have had another phrase in mind, you couldn’t help but melt at the smile he gave you. 

“I only ever wanted to talk to you.  I was too… chicken to actually tell you, but I really like you, [Your name].”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that,” he grinned, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.  

You welcomed the physical contact, looking up at him with wide eyes.  “Well… well, uh, maybe let’s not talk about that here, while we’re at work—”

“—then let’s go talk about it somewhere else,” Bucky smiled.  “I… have a bike.”

“A bike?”

“Motorbike.”

Your cheeks burned again.  “I, uh, think I’d rather walk if we were to go anywhere.”

Bucky smiled even more.  “You’ll be fine.  And if anyone says anything, I’ll get you out of trouble.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about—”

Bucky knew what you were referencing.  He just chuckled, taking both of your hands in his.  “Trust me.  It’ll be okay.”

Dottie was a total bitch—she made you cry in front of the guy you liked.  However, it led to not only you getting out of work early that afternoon, but it gave you an opportunity to really get to know Bucky.  As much as you hated to say that, you kind of owed your relationship with Bucky to Dottie—without her, the two of you would have probably longed after each other for years before someone slipped up and said something.