#I want to. but I can’t force myself to… not yet

[voidofsunlight]

Lead Me to You

Word Count: ~1,050 words~ Trope: Enemies to Lovers?

Summary: Forced to partner in Yule Ball dance lessons, Mattheo Riddle slowly finds himself enjoying your company—until he overhears you have a date with Cormac McLaggen. That’s when he decides to take matters into his own hands.

A/N: Someone asked me to write the next part of this [link] so I tried my best! Please be kind—I’ve never really posted my writing anywhere before. I’ve been writing for myself for years, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! Feedback is appreciated. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

✦ ✦ ✦

The moment your hands met, you knew this was going to be a disaster.

Mattheo’s grip was too tight, fingers curling around yours like he was bracing for battle rather than a dance. His movements were rigid, his body tense—like he expected the entire room to explode at any moment.

"You’re supposed to follow the rhythm," you murmured, trying to guide him.

"I don’t take orders," he snapped, yanking you into a turn so abruptly you nearly tripped.

A sharp snicker came from your left. Theodore Nott, watching with barely contained amusement as he danced with Pansy, smirked.

"Damn, Mattheo. Are you dancing or trying to hex her?"

Mattheo shot him a glare, but it didn’t change the fact that he was comically terrible at this. He moved like someone who had never had to be gentle—someone who had spent his whole life preparing to strike first, not to hold.

The moment McGonagall dismissed the class, he tore his hands away as if burned, muttering something about a waste of time before stalking off.

✦ ✦ ✦

The next lesson wasn’t much better.

Mattheo was still stiff, still completely incapable of grace, and still refused to meet your eyes. His movements were jerky, his grip too firm, and when you stumbled over your own feet, he scoffed.

"Pay attention."

You huffed. "You’re the one leading."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should keep up."

Despite his sharp words, something was different this time. His frustration wasn’t as venomous, his insults not as sharp. He was still tense, still scowling, but… he was trying.

And when he finally twirled you without disaster, his brows lifted—just for a second—before he masked his surprise with a scoff.

"Not bad, Riddle," you teased.

He only huffed in response, but when the lesson ended, he didn’t shove you away this time.

✦ ✦ ✦

The teasing started soon after.

Theodore, being Theodore, couldn’t help but jab at Mattheo for his own entertainment. Every time Mattheo’s gaze lingered on you for too long—whether it was in the corridor or across the Great Hall—Theo wiggled his eyebrows, grinning like he knew something Mattheo hadn’t quite figured out yet.

"You’re staring," Blaise remarked one afternoon, smirking over his coffee cup.

Mattheo scowled, stabbing at his food. "I’m not."

"Right," Theo drawled. "And I’m a Gryffindor."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, but he didn’t glance your way again. At least, not while they were watching.

✦ ✦ ✦

Then came the overheard conversation.

"I still can’t believe you said yes to him," your friend huffed, nudging you as you packed up your books.

You shrugged. "Well, he seems nice."

"Cormac McLaggen?" She scoffed. "You Hufflepuffs are too nice."

Mattheo hadn’t meant to listen. You were just so close—your group settled at the Three Broomsticks, bags at your feet, probably from dress shopping. But the second he heard you said yes—something in him went rigid.

His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around his drink until his knuckles turned white.

You had a date. And McLaggen, of all people.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

✦ ✦ ✦

By the last lesson, the steps had become familiar.

His hands were no longer hesitant, his movements less aggressive. He didn’t treat you like something fragile—nor something he wanted to break.

But something else was happening.

He caught himself watching you—the way your hair brushed over your shoulder, the way you focused so intently on perfecting every step. It was irritating. Distracting.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly.

"You got a date?" he asked suddenly, voice carefully neutral.

You blinked, surprised. "Why?"

He shrugged, feigning boredom. "Just wondering who’s got the misfortune of dancing with you all night."

But there was something behind his words—something sharp, something possessive.

And when you smiled, amused, and answered yes—it made his blood boil.

✦ ✦ ✦

 The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and Mattheo was restless.

He hadn’t planned to care. He hadn’t planned to even think about it.

But then he saw you.

And worse—he saw someone else dancing with you. A Gryffindor. Of course.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he could second-guess himself, he strode forward, cutting in without so much as a glance at your partner.

"I’m taking over," he said, smirking—but there was an edge to it, something dangerous, something real.

And when your hands met this time, he wasn’t stiff. He wasn’t hesitant.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t just dancing.

He was claiming something he hadn’t even realized he wanted.

You arched a brow, amusement dancing in your eyes. "So you finally figured it out?"

Mattheo exhaled sharply, tugging you just a little closer. His voice was low, rough, edged with something undeniably certain.

"Shut up," he muttered. "Just let me have you."

You laughed softly. "You could’ve just asked me, you know."

He smirked, the cockiness returning—but this time, there was something else behind it. Something raw. Something real.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, lingering for just a moment before trailing down to your waist. And then, with a confident pull, he dipped you back—holding you firmly, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

"I want to kiss you," he murmured.

A challenge flickered in your gaze. "Then do it."

And he did.

✦ ✦ ✦

PLEASE DO NOT COPY / TRANSLATE OR REPOST AS YOUR OWN!

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@waynes-multiverse

This was so wonderful and a beautiful valentine treat!! You and @luci-in-trenchcoats and @zepskies are all out here inspiring me with these headcanon fics. 💗 Also I may have hyper-fixated and wrote a lot 😅, but these were all just so glorious ❤️

Dean

I really loved that for Dean you made it a thing that he "doesn't know how to be romantic." or that he believes that he "isn't romantic." Because it kinda fits that Dean doesn't understand that romance doesn't always have to be super big gestures but can be just giving someone your last bite of pie (HA) or just remembering the kind of coffee your significant other likes or lending a gentle ear when your significant other needs that. And I love that you highlight that the reader knows this, but Dean doesn't. That the reader can see those wonderful little things that Dean does for her and no other man ever has. Also so jealous because I want Dean to make me a mixtape 📼

But I love Dean's take on romance in his section: the chick flick, the fairy lights, the snacks, and the box of chocolates. It is very him and oh so perfect 😍

"Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart."

Soldier Boy

Aww yeah, here we go, our man is pulling out all the stops *rubbing hands together* 🤣 This one was so good, because yes, Ben knows what romance is supposed to look like, he just doesn't always put in the effort (I say it gently because I love this grumpy old man with my whole heart) LOL

But when he does- LOOK OUT LADIES 👀🔥

Everything you wrote for him is so perfect- "Of course" the lingerie and a dress that is his signature color, and the fancy resturant, the horse drawn carriage, the roses- All so on brand for him.

I loved:

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife. Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views. You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting! But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen. But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

Because we all know that man would one million percent be possessive of his woman and fall into that traditional view of a woman being a trophy, but oh my sweet baby corn sometimes the feminist inside of me kinda goes just a tad on hiatus 😂 And then when she comes back, she usually thinks that she can fix him lol

Beau Arlen

I still have not gotten to see Big Sky yet, but each time I see something for this beautiful "cowboy sheriff" I remind myself that I need to lol.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Oh goodness, I love the idea that he gets his girl something each day to make her feel "loved and wanted." That is just the sweetest thing in the whole world 😍

This day is all about his endless love for you. Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

This is exactly how I'd feel. I love the romance but at the same time I would literally feel like I've done absolutely nothing to deserve that and how can I make it up to him?

He’s moved, and it moves you. Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

I'm crying. I just thought you should know 😭

Russell Shaw

Out of all of these, I think that Russell's was my absolute favorite. (Ben I still love you, please don't take this the wrong way 😂)

But I loved everything about this one because the way you portrayed the reader.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place. You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated. Still…

If this isn't me every freaking year I don't know what is 🤣 Half price chocolate the day after is always the best thing about Valentine's Day lol

But I like that the reader was a little disappointed at the beginning even though she was trying not to be. It was very realistic and makes so much sense, especially because she's in a long distance relationship and watching all the couples around her getting showered in gifts.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

Love this for Russell, because I think it fits anyone who is in a relationship with him. He gets called away on a whim to do a crazy job that he can't really talk about. Of course he's always going to leave his significant other "wanting more."

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

AND HE SURPRISED HER?! I LOVE THIS!! 😍😍😍

Girl, all of these were perfect and fit each of these characters!!! But for the love of goodness all of these had me:

P.S. If there is still room of your taglist can you possibly please add me? You're such a wonderful writer! 🥹👉🏻👈🏻💗

Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

(Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition)

Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader // Soldier Boy x reader // Beau Arlen x reader // Russell Shaw x reader

Warnings: +18 for some language and spice, tons of fluff, a smidge of angst

A/N: Something sweet to sweep you off your feet for the most romantic day of the year 😉 Happy early Valentine's from me, my loves 💖 (And big thanks to the lovely, amazing @zepskies 💜 for starting this trend in the first place. It's addicting 😂🫶)

Dean:

Dean isn’t big on Valentine’s Day and romance. Not because he thinks it’s an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to be romantic.

You’re aware of this and don’t care if he surprises you with a big gesture. Because truth is, Dean’s romantic when it comes to the little things.

You don’t care if he brings you flowers because he brings you your favorite take-out order when you so much as mention that you’re hungry.

You don’t care if he gets you a card because he gets up in the middle of the night and saunters all the way to kitchen to bring you a glass of water when you tell him you’re thirsty.

You don’t care if he gets you chocolate because he creates personal mixtapes for you with songs you said you liked during random drives.

He listens to you. He holds open doors for you. He protects you. He keeps you calm. He takes care of you when you’re injured. And he loves you with every fiber of his being.

So, really, you don’t care if he makes a big deal out of one random calendar day a year or not. It doesn’t prove his love for you – the little things do.

However, you’re still sweetly surprised (and moved to tears) when you find the Dean Cave dipped in the warm glow of fairy lights and candles.

He’s picked out your favorite chick-flick and your favorite snacks.

He opens his arms with a big, cheeky grin and invites you into his snuggly embrace on the couch.

There’s a box of chocolates on the coffee table, a few of them half eaten, and a note that reads: I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is. Be mine?

You smile and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Always.”

Flustered, he smiles, cheeks tinged pink, and kisses your crown. “Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart.”

Soldier Boy:

To say Ben’s old-school when it comes to romance would be an understatement. While the rest of the year his bedside manners leave much to desire, he strangely shines on Valentine’s.

Mostly, because he knows sex is a given on this holiest of holy days. No sickness or period can stop him.

If you accidentally died, you’re even sure he’d pull a full Weekend at Bernie’s and have a night out with your corpse.

First, he surprises you with a delicately wrapped gift on your bed: a tight-fitting, beautiful emerald evening gown and the matching lacy lingerie set.

Of course he got you underwear, even though he won’t mind if you don’t wear anything at all under that dress.

He then takes you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city, where he reserved a private room away from all the other commoners.

His attention is only on you.

He praises you all night long and gives compliments as if he's never done anything else his entire (long) life.

He orders the most expensive bottle of wine and the best steak and makes sure you know that it is.

He encourages you to play footsie under the table with him before he slips the heel off your foot, and your toes massage the growing bulge in his slacks.

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife.

Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views.

You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting!

But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen.

But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

When you come home at the end of the night (with a fucking horse-drawn carriage no less), Ben can barely keep his large hands from roaming your curves. You know he expects his reward now for being the best possible lover ever.

On the kitchen island, you also find a huge bouquet of red roses waiting for you. You can barely appreciate its beauty before the zipper in the back of your dress slides open. Well… rips open.

Between the thorny stems, there’s a card attached, too. It doesn’t read “Be Mine,” however.

Nope, it says, “You are mine.”

And you know he fucking means it.

Beau Arlen:

Your favorite cowboy sheriff will pull out all the stops as soon as the calendar on his desk reads February.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Your favorite flowers, your favorite meal, your favorite movie, a framed picture of you and him from your first vacation together, a necklace you saw in an antique store you mentioned in passing…

Some might say he’s a little overcompensating.

But Beau has made mistakes in his past, especially on the relationship front, and will be damned if he hasn’t learned from them.

So, he will make sure you feel wanted and loved till the day he dies, even though you keep repeatedly telling him he doesn’t need to make a fuss about Valentine’s Day.

Really, you’re good with picked flowers from the garden.

But Beau’s stubborn and won’t be discouraged. The southern gentlemanliness is rooted deep within his heart and soul.

This day is all about his endless love for you.

Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

There ain’t enough blow jobs in this world to make up for his devotion to you.

But on the big day itself, you are actually the one who surprises him with a romantic weekend trip to a cabin in the mountains and excellent fishing spots close by.

You know the biggest gift you could give him is some peace and quiet, time for himself, and a listening ear because he will surely talk the entire time about God and the world while you’re stuck on a boat with him.

But on the night itself, when you give him your gift, he’s actually speechless. Tears brim in his green eyes because you thought of him.

He’s moved, and it moves you.

Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

Russell Shaw:

You don’t expect much when Valentine’s Day looms in the distance. In fact, you don’t expect anything at all.

You’ve only been dating Russell for a couple of months now, and you barely ever see him. Your time together mostly consists of text messages, late night phone calls, and the occasional video chats.

You know his job is complicated. You know he can’t be around as much, even though you direly wish he could.

On the morning of the dreaded day, you receive a simple text message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart! I’ll call you later!”

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little disappointed – disenchanted even. You don’t want to make a big deal out of it because it’s a stupid, unimportant almost-holiday.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place.

You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated.

Still…

As you park in the driveway after a long day at work where you watched your colleagues fawn over the bouquets they received from their partners, you feel disheartened when you still haven’t even gotten your promised phone call.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

But as you close the car door, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You all too keenly pull it out and pick up, almost dropping it because your hands are jittering with excitement at this point and your heart is pounding furiously.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Russell greets you on the other end, the deep timbres of his voice sending immediate shivers down your spine. “You home yet?”

All your worries and sorrows are instantly forgotten when you hear the big smile on his freckled face that he’s surely carrying.

He’s worth it, you remind yourself, even when it’s not easy. Life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

“Uh, almost. Unlocking the front door as we speak,” you tell him.

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Was stuck on a plane. Long flight,” he says mysteriously. You don’t even ask at this point. You know he can’t tell you.

“No worries. I was busy, anyways,” you lie and hope he buys your nonchalance. “Anywhere interesting you are now?”

“You could say that, yeah…”

“Well, if you hold on a second, I’ll slip out of those clothes and make your evening even more interesting with some pictures,” you tease flirtatiously and push the door open to your dark apartment.

The light switches on by itself, though. You blink in surprise before the phone falls out of your hand when Russell beams broadly at you.

“As much as I love getting your dirty little photos, I think I prefer the real thing tonight,” he says slyly.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Hope you enjoyed these little snippets, friends! Do you agree with these? 😉

I legit stole Dean's half-eaten box of chocolate and the Forrest Gump note from another fic of mine. I couldn't resist. I can totally see him doing something silly and cute like that 😂

Happy Valentine's 💕

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[buckysouvenir]

afterglow

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day five!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

Bucky’s POV

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Too quiet. I hated the silence—it gave my thoughts room to breathe, and lately, they’d been nothing but poison.

Y/N sat on the edge of the couch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her shoulders were hunched, like she was trying to protect herself from the weight of my words. The ones I’d thrown at her in anger.

I hadn’t even meant half of them.

“I blew things out of proportion,” I finally muttered, breaking the silence. My voice was low, almost inaudible, but she heard me. She always heard me.

Her head turned slightly, just enough for me to catch the glimmer of hurt in her eyes. It was a look I’d seen too many times, one I swore I’d never be the cause of again. And yet, here we were.

“You didn’t deserve that,” I continued, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “None of it. I was just—” I stopped, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I don’t even know what I was doing. Fighting with you... it feels like boxing with no gloves. It hurts both of us, and I still can’t seem to stop.”

She stayed quiet, her lips pressed into a thin line. I wished she would yell at me, scream, anything but this deafening silence.

“It’s all me,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “It’s in my head. I’m the one who burned us down, but it’s not what I meant, Y/N. I swear it’s not.”

Her gaze flicked to mine, just for a moment, before she looked away again. I stepped closer, desperate for her to understand. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry that I hurt you. I don’t wanna do this to you. I don’t wanna lose this—lose you.”

My chest felt tight, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “You have to believe me,” I pleaded. “I know I’ve made mistakes—hell, I’ve made more than I can count—but I can’t lose you. Tell me you’re still mine. Tell me we’ll be fine, even when I lose my mind.”

She didn’t move, but I saw her jaw tighten, her fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushion like it was the only thing grounding her.

“Tell me I’m all you want,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Even when I break your heart.”

Y/N’s POV

I wanted to be angry. I should’ve been angry. But the truth was, seeing Bucky like this—his head bowed, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was crushing him—hurt more than anything he’d said to me.

“It’s so excruciating to see you low,” I said softly, finally breaking the silence. My voice wavered, but I didn’t care. He needed to hear it.

His head snapped up, his blue eyes locking onto mine. They were filled with so much pain, so much regret, and it broke something in me.

“Bucky,” I whispered, standing from the couch. My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to take a step toward him. “I just want to lift you up and not let you go.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought he might back away. But he stayed rooted in place, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“This love is worth the fight,” I said, my voice steady now. I needed him to know that. To believe it. “You and me—we’re worth it.”

He shook his head, his brows furrowing in frustration. “You say that now, but what about the next time? What happens when I lose control again? When I screw everything up like I always do?”

“You won’t,” I said firmly, taking another step closer. “And even if you do, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The morning light was starting to filter through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow around us. It felt almost symbolic, like the universe was giving us a second chance.

“It’s not your fault,” I told him, reaching out to take his hands in mine. They were cold, trembling slightly, but he didn’t pull away. “None of this is your fault, Bucky.”

His eyes searched mine, as if he was looking for some kind of reassurance, some proof that I wasn’t lying.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” I said, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, his grip tightened around my hands, like he was afraid I might slip away if he let go.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For all of it.”

I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. He buried his face in my shoulder, his body shaking as he finally let the tears fall.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. “I’ve got you, Bucky. Always.”

Bucky’s POV

Her arms around me felt like home—like safety. I didn’t deserve her, not after everything I’d put her through. But as she held me, whispering words of comfort and reassurance, I couldn’t help but hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t ruined the best thing in my life.

“I’ll do better,” I promised, my voice muffled against her shoulder. “I’ll be better—for you. For us.”

She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her hands cupping my face. “We’ll be better,” she said softly. “Together.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe her.

And in the warm afterglow of that quiet morning, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we really would be okay.

#taglist: @cjand10

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 4

Bucky x reader

Warnings: ok now they really hate each other, really angsty part and a lot of swearing (again)

Summary: A not so nice morning in the kitchen with Sam and Bucky

A/N: I couldn’t wait any longer haha so enjoy this part :)

Masterlist

Five months. Five months of avoiding each other like the plague. And when we do run into each other? Jesus Christ, even Captain America himself would bolt from the room.

Barnes has gotten a little more… how do I put it? Confident. In the wrong way. About three months ago, he was still trying to talk to me, still trying to convince me—just like everyone else. But I wouldn’t give in. I would never forgive him. Maybe after all this time, it seems childish, but I didn’t care. I stood firmly on my ground.

And once everyone realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, that’s when things started heating up. Barnes was starting to get so cocky. The worse my remarks got, the more he started snapping back at me. I could see I was driving him insane—not that it was my intention. I just didn’t want to see him. But since he was already there, I couldn’t stop myself from throwing sharp comments his way. Until, finally, he had enough and started fighting back.

“Fuck, Sam, I swear I tried everything. But she wouldn’t even let me get a word in. I’m so done with this. Guess some amends just can’t be made.”

I walked into the kitchen with every intention of ignoring Barnes and making myself a great breakfast.
“Morning, Wilson.”
“Hey, Y/L/N.”

I could tell Sam was uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop him from asking a stupid question.
“So, Bucky and I were about to go for a run. Do you wanna join us?”

Oh God. Pathetic.

Barnes practically choked on his coffee, barely stopping himself from suffocating (what a shame that would be).

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let him outside. He might ‘accidentally’ run over someone and then claim he was forced to do it.”

Oh, I knew that one was going to hurt. But it rolled off my tongue so sweetly that I couldn’t stop myself.

Barnes threw his cup against the wall. Sam flinched slightly.

“You are a cunt, you know that?”

Bucky stepped closer like he was about to throw hands. I got up immediately.

“What? You gonna kill me too now? Finally finish collecting the whole family, asshole?”

And he just stared.

Nothingness in his eyes.

I wanted it to hurt. I wanted him to feel exactly the way I did. But strangely, there was no satisfaction in seeing him suffer. It wasn’t as enjoyable as I had imagined. So much time had passed, my rage had only grown, and yet… I couldn’t put a name to that stupid feeling inside me. Oh no, it definitely wasn’t sympathy or guilt—it was just exhausting.

For the first time, I saw something in his eyes. Fear?

I didn’t care to figure it out. Not at that moment.

“Fuck you,” was all he said before leaving the kitchen.

I sat down with a small smirk but also with a hint of uncertainty (hopefully, it didn’t show).

“Um, so that went well?”

Sam, not knowing what else to do, sat down with me.

“Y/N, aren’t you tired of this?”

The bastard could actually read my mind sometimes.

“Despite everything, you two have a lot in common. He was under HYDRA, you had NEXUS. You really should—”

I couldn’t listen to him any longer.

“Despite everything? You mean the fact that he killed my sister? And HYDRA? NEXUS? We have nothing in common. I never killed anyone for someone else. No one ever controlled me like some brainless puppet!”

“Because Fury saved you! You little brat! You think you wouldn’t have done the same as him if Nick hadn’t stepped in?”

Silence.

A long, awkward silence.

I had no idea how to respond. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he was right—even if he was.

“I wonder if you’d say the same thing about him if Fury hadn’t shown up back then. You need to get it together, Y/N, because everyone is tired of your shit.”

Sam stood up, looked at me, and walked out.

I couldn’t admit he was right. I couldn’t get rid of the fog in my head. That horrible memory.

I refused to back down.

The kitchen felt emptier than before.

Sam’s words hung in the air like a goddamn storm cloud, suffocating me, pressing against my chest. "Everyone is tired of your shit."

I clenched my fists. Fuck him. Fuck them all. They didn’t get it. They weren’t the ones who had to wake up every morning and remember that someone ripped their soul apart like it was nothing. They weren’t the ones who had to stand in the same room as the murderer and pretend like he was just another member of the goddamn team.

I grabbed a piece of toast and took a slow bite, staring at the shattered ceramic from Bucky’s cup still lying on the floor. Someone else could clean it up. I wasn’t going to.

The compound was quiet now, except for the faint hum of the fridge and the distant sound of traffic outside. I let myself breathe. But my hands were still shaking.

Then I heard it—the door slamming shut.

I exhaled through my nose, already knowing who it was.

“What the fuck do you want now, Barnes?”

Silence.

I turned my head slightly, and there he was, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t cooled down one bit since storming out of here a few minutes ago.

“I’m not done talking.”

I let out a dry laugh. “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn you told Sam you were done trying.”

His nostrils flared. Good. I wanted him angry. I wanted him to feel something.

He took a step forward. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Y/N.”

I shot him a look. “Oh, I don’t? Enlighten me. Please.”

His eyes darkened. “You think you’re the only one who lost someone? You think you’re the only one who wakes up every day hating the person in the mirror?”

That caught me off guard. For a second. But I didn’t let it show.

“The difference between us, Winter Soldier?” I stood up, stepping closer until there were just inches between us. “I lost my family. You were the one pulling the goddamn trigger.”

He swallowed hard. I saw his fingers twitch—just slightly. Like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Or grab something. Maybe grab me.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a bitter chuckle and looked down.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was lower now. Tighter. “Every goddamn day, I think about the people I killed. I hear them screaming in my fucking head. And you?” He shook his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “You don’t even want revenge anymore. You just want something to be angry at.”

I stiffened.

He saw it. He fucking saw it, and I hated him for it.

“Go to hell, Barnes.”

His lips curled into a humorless smirk. “Already been there, sweetheart.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving me standing there, fists clenched, pulse racing, and for the first time in a long time—completely speechless.

[ezrasxfics]

some theatrebunny angst perhaps? maybe gangle feeling as if nobody really cares much about her and jax has to convince her otherwise? :3

(also hi ezra hope your days goin good)

you gotta be kidding me, you have plenty of people who care.

-

ribbun/theatrebunny

-

gangle pov

just.. another day. another day of looking at those fake smiles, hearing those forced words of reassurance. i know that none of them actually like me, so why do they have to keep pretending like they do? i mean, i’d hate for them to hate me, but i also hate them having to lie to keep me happy. i don’t want to be a burden.

at least one person doesn’t have to lie.

i glance over at jax, who’s messing with ragatha, as usual. he messes with all of us. it must be lonely, living like he does, but at least people don’t lie and pretend to like him. i can’t deny i’m a little jealous sometimes - he can just.. get people’s true colours out, in a way. it’s actually really interesting to watch.

he catches my eye, and starts to head over here, causing a small panic to set in me. i like being a spectator, not a victim.. is that cruel? i mean, im a cruel person, so why am i questioning that?

“hey, crybaby, how the hell’re you so down with that freakin’ happy mask of yours on?” he questions, and despite the wording, there’s not even a hint of malice behind his tone, just curiosity. surely there’s an ulterior motive, how would someone like him ever be.. well, not nice, but bearable??

“i guess.. i’m just tired of feeling like a- a burden-“ i stammer, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. “everyone’s always so nice to me.. and i think they feel forced to-“

“bullsh*t,” he interrupts bluntly, making me flinch. “what reason to those guys have to hate you? you’re a decent person. you’ve not really done anything wrong, have ya?”

“i mean.. no, but-“

“yeah, no. it’s a one word answer, babe, and you’ve just finished it. you said no. so, you’ve done nothing wrong, they have no reason t’ hate ya. no ifs or buts, got it?” he interrupts again, eyebrows furrowed in sheer confidence in what he’s saying. but.. why is he being so kind? is he trying to lie like everyone else-? no. what would he have to gain from lying to me.? he’s not gonna risk his whole reputation just for a joke, right?? but, he could-? NO!! no, gangle, for once you need to take things at face value. he’s being nice. accept it and move on. let yourself enjoy the moment, it might be the only time this ever happens.

“yeah.. thank you, jax. i appreciate it— i’m sorry for bothering you-“

“you apologise way too much. it’s kinda pathetic-“ he jokes, but i can see the lightheartedness in it, and actually find myself laughing along.

why am i feeling like this? i’m supposed to hate him.. he’s caused me nothing but suffering since i got here, and yet, here i am, finally getting along with him? hoping things will change, and maybe we’ll be friends..? or more..? okay, maybe i’m being a little delusional on that part.. but i love the enemies to lovers trope, maybe a little too much..! i’m projecting again..

oh well, i guess a girl can dream.

and you know what they say, make your dreams come true.

<3

-

hey!! i’m actually doing pretty good, thanks for checking in!! i hope you’re good too, and thanks for the request!!

reblogs appreciated!!

[astra-galaxie]

Back in business!

Hello everyone, I’m back!😁

Thank you so much for the well wishes and for respecting my request not to talk about CC while I was on break. A special thank you to those who reached out to see how I was doing; I greatly appreciated it. And as relaxing as my break was, I have missed CC and am excited to be back!🥰

I will return to my accounts and the servers I left, but I will take a little more time off before starting the next chapter of my story—maybe another week. During my break, I worked on some smaller projects and would like to wrap them up before continuing my series. 

However, I do have a couple of announcements to make. First, I have decided to discontinue my general Criminal Case one-shot book. I’ve realized that book was one of my biggest stresses, and I keep putting it on hiatus, which is unfair to you guys. So, for now, I will no longer be accepting requests for one-shots. That doesn't mean I won’t occasionally write CC one-shots unrated to my series when inspiration strikes, but I cannot continue that book anymore. I may bring it back one day, but for the foreseeable future, it's done.

I will keep my one-shot book for extra stories based on my series (somewhat) active and will try to fulfill the remaining requests/suggestions on my list since they involve my series or could be an AU of my series. People can still suggest ideas for one-shots for that book, but I cannot write everything. Please remember I am writing them in my free time, and while I love this hobby, if I don’t like an idea, it is a struggle to write it, and I will no longer force myself to write a story until I am ready.

Secondly, I will be adding a new rule to my series’ one-shot book rule list. I will no longer write stories centred around other people’s OCs, even if they appear in my series. I may CONSIDER a story suggestion that involves other people’s OCs, but only if they are not the main focus/character. I have nothing against other peoples’ OCs, and I love seeing the different original characters people create for CC; it is simply that I am not comfortable writing stories about them. I fear I will misrepresent the OC and make them OOC. And since I know firsthand how much time and love goes into creating an OC, I would hate not to do the OC(s) justice with my writing.

That’s not to say I don’t want other people’s OCs to appear in my series. In fact, I would love to have more of them cameo in my series! It ties into an idea I’m considering for my City of Romance story, but that’s a long way from being written, so I’m not worrying about it yet. Of course, I can’t promise that every suggested OC can appear, but if you have an OC you would like to offer as a new character in S4 or a future season, you can leave a comment or send me a DM (on Tumblr, Discord, or Instagram). I will never use someone else’s OC without their permission, so I promise never to use your OC(s) without your consent.

I’ve been considering these changes for months, and my break gave me the push to implement them finally. I apologize for ending that one-shot book this way, but for my mental health, I need to discontinue it. I hate being selfish, but I need to do this and put my foot down on requests involving other people’s OCs for my sanity. I am happy to help people with their OCs’ lore any way I can, but I will not write it for you as they are your OC(s), not mine.

Thank you for your understanding. And now that I’m back, I look forward to continuing my series and creating more new content for CC!

Astra G.✨

[luniviravosshipper]

As both an Aaravos stan and a Viren stan, it is really funny to see how I ended up hating the writing behind Viren’s arc while everyone else seemed to love it, but on the other hand I ended up loving Aaravos as a character a thousand times more over with how they handled the writing behind his arc in season 7 whereas a ton of Aaravos fans I’m seeing hated the way it was handled.

[steevejr]

truly so baffling to me to hear people complain about their electronics like my coworker was complaining that her 2017 Mac was so slow its barely functional and it’s like what do you MEAN your 8 year old Mac is dead? mine is from 2013 and runs flawlessly?? what are you doing to your $1000 machine ??? filling it with peanut butter and TikTok viruses?????

[goblin-enjoyer]

*draws something for the first time in a while. “Man I suck at drawing! Maybe go back to being good at it if I draw more!”

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

“Oh I got a neat idea for a drawing! Surely I have gotten better by now!” Loop post

[wildsaltair]

watching Gladiator feeling like a wife who’s sighing over her beloved who was put in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. free my husband

[therealcheekface]

generally i think viral tiktok sounds are annoying af but the one that’s like “you know you have 30 minutes right” or whatever is literally the theme of my relationship

[dreamyberry]

/3.11.24

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[juvellianthebee]

i just wanna be able to freely be a nerd… being normal is HARD

[angelicwolf98]

...

[boomerang109]

I hate mental illness so much