#anyway I am planning on sitting down to answer that one next week or later this week depending on when my queue releases this post

[renegadeknight]

1, 3, 6!

Hope you have a happy new year!

Describe your journey this year in three words adventurous, challenging, and joyful

3. A fic or artwork you enjoyed there really are so many that I am spinning a mind wheel to pick one right now... but Migrating Monarchs by ciaconnaa is renting most of my brain space for free right now, very much worth a read, kudos, and wordy comment!

6. A scene you struggled with uh the entire Tommy POV chapter of SL haha that was the first time I wrote anything from his POV and rewrote it so. many. times. I think the fact that so much of it takes place at the hospital, I just really fought for it to not feel boring and repetitive (so hopefully it doesn't) and also pull off the fact that Tommy was a mixed bag of emotions the whole way through

Artist and Fic Writer EOY Asks

thank you for the ask and I hope you have a happy new year as well!

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[kieran-granola]

Sweet Sorries

(This is a little JayTim Chanukah gift for @silver-snow-77! Thank you for being a lot of fun 💕)

“We missed you at the Manor.”

Jason doesn't flinch but he tenses, his shoulders drawing up as he sets his helmet down on the table. Slowly, he turns around to find Tim sitting at his kitchen table all bundled up in a cozy sweater and scarf. The plate of sufganiyot that Jason cooked and abandoned earlier that day is waiting in front of him, the shape of it somehow accusing in the semi-darkness.

“Who’s we exactly?” Jason asks as he unholsters his guns. 

In the kitchen, Tim shrugs. “Alfred. Bruce. Damian. Me. Take your pick.”

Following his well-practiced routine, Jason unloads his weapons and puts them away in his safe. He'll need to clean them later — to make sure everything will be in working order tomorrow when he heads out into the streets again — but he's got more pressing concerns for now.

“You see me practically everyday, birdie.”

“We don't celebrate Hanukkah everyday, though.”

Jason shrugs off his leather jacket and sprawls on his couch to work on removing his boots. “Technically, for a week, we do.”

Tim's tongue clicks. “Jason.”

“Timothy,” Jason deadpans.

They stare at each other in silence for a minute, then Tim sighs. His shoulders droop, hurt clear on his face. When he speaks, his voice is thin.  “Why didn't you show up? I wanted to spend the night with you. I thought—I was hoping that you wanted to celebrate with me too.”

Shame and guilt bloom in Jason's stomach. Fuck. He's an asshole. He was so caught up in his insecurities, so worried about Bruce's judgment and Alfred's disapproval, that he didn't stop to consider whether Tim would be hurt by his absence. Stomach turning into a mess of knots, he kicks his boots off and stands up. 

“I'm sorry. I was planning to go. I mean—” he gestures to the plate of pastries, “—I even baked. But then I just… I don't know. I couldn't do it.”

Tim bites his lip. “You got scared.”

“I guess.”

“You could have told me. I would have spent the evening with you, we could have—”

“No!” Jason blurts out. “No. It's—You shouldn't have to skip family celebrations just because you decided to fuck the local pariah.”

Tim goes stock-still, his expression smoothing out into an impenetrable mask. “Is that what we're doing? Fucking?”

Dozens of memories flit through Jason’s mind — Tim's smile over shared fries, his strong fingers digging bruises into Jason's hips, heated debates in front of the TV, and days spent curled up together in bed — and his heart stutters. Dammit. He didn’t mean to imply that what they have isn’t serious. 

“No, it's not,” he says slowly. “You know it's not. You're as much of a detective as I am. You’ve got to know how I feel about you.”

“By that logic, you have to know how I feel about you too. But you still left me hanging at the Manor tonight.” 

Jason looks away. Maybe he does know. Maybe he remembers the way Tim took care of him when he was sick despite his own weakened immune system. Maybe he can picture the smile that blooms on his face whenever he wakes up next to Jason. Maybe he knows the shape of Tim's feelings intimately. Maybe he's let him write them across his bones with every kiss and touch.

Maybe it's not enough to compensate for his fear of Bruce anyway.

“I'm sorry,” he repeats. “I should have warned you. I was too caught up in my issues with B to think about you and that was unfair of me. I'll do better next time.”

Tim gives him a long, inscrutable look. Then he sighs. “Alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve got my own hang-ups when it comes to Bruce, so… Apology accepted. On one condition.”

“Anything you want. Just say the word.”

“I want a sufganiyah,” Tim replies lightly. “And a kiss.”

Gratitude fills Jason’s chest with sunshine. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Tim’s playful answer. To be forgiven so easily and reminded that Tim cares for him all in one fell swoop… It’s a gift he never thought he’d be given.

Eyes stinging, he moves closer and pushes the plate towards Tim. “Take as many as you want. Hell, eat them all. I can always make more.”

Tim grabs a beignet. He takes a bite, and powdered sugar sticks to his mouth, bright and enticing. 

Jason leans in reflexively at the sight. Every inch of him longs for a taste of Tim’s sweetness. As clumsy with his words as he can be, he knows exactly how to touch Tim by now. How to handle him with the care and reverence he doesn’t know how to express when he’s not borrowing a poet’s words. 

(Art commissioned from the lovely @coffeexrage)

Tim notices him staring. He lifts his chin and gives Jason an expectant look, his blue eyes impossibly bright. “Well? That’s only half of what I asked for. Where’s my kiss?”

Laughing quietly, Jason crosses the distance between them and kisses the tip of Tim’s freckled nose. “There.”

Tim scrunches up his nose. “I meant a proper kiss.”

“Finish eating, you gremlin. I’ll kiss you as many times as you want after.”

“You sure about that?” Tim grins slyly. “Because I might need a kiss every day until I die.”

Jason rolls his eyes even as his heart misses a beat. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Oh, I can drive it harder.” Tim gives him an exaggerated wink.

Flushing, Jason takes a sufganiyah and pushes it against Tim’s lips to shut him up. “Eat or you won’t get any kisses at all.”

“Yessir.” Half-laughing, Tim takes a bite and the two of them share a smile. 

Jason doesn’t know what tomorrow will be like — whether Tim will insist on going to the Manor to light the candles again, and whether he’ll have the strength to accompany him if he does. What he does know, though, is that Tim’s gentle warmth is enough to make him want to keep making an effort. He might never be able to mend things with Bruce, he still damn well intends to nurture his relationship with Tim.

One kiss at a time.

[sunnikos]

Day 4: Mentorship

Hello! I am participating in Dazai Birthday Week 2024. This is Day 4! I am late once again but don’t worry because this one’s really good I prommy 🙏

TW: Depression, suicidal thoughts.

This fic contains some Kunidazai and background Shin Soukoku if these parings are not for you, then please do not read further <3

2k words

Enjoy the piece, and stay tuned for the next one!

| Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 |

Taking on Atsushi wasn’t in Dazai’s plans. The very boy taking on Kyouka wasn’t in Dazai’s plans. Finding a new reason to wake up every day wasn’t in Dazai’s plans. So many people refuse to let him die, which is very annoying. But.. maybe that’s what it’s all about. Perhaps this is why Odasaku wanted Dazai to become a good man. Dazai was bound to die brutally in the Port Mafia. You can’t trust anyone there. Dazai doesn’t know how he ended up trusting three people. His mistake.

Although it’s not such a mistake anymore,. It hurt more than anything in the moment. Yet, now that he has his people… he can’t imagine just- giving it up. He wishes Odasaku didn’t have to die for him to have this. He wishes Odasaku could’ve had this. Now all he has is a memory of him and his ideals. To think Dazai would’ve let Atsushi suffer the same fate as him if he’d gone off and died like he planned. And for what purpose?

He would never really justify Odasaku’s death. But it had a butterfly effect. To put Atsushi through that pain with no rhyme or reason? It feels wrong now, like an untuned guitar being played on stage. While Dazai isn’t perfect, he tries more or less to ignore the call for death. It’s not as important as what he has now. Giving up isn’t his choice now. It will always be an option, still, he’s proud to say he has picked joy. He’s picked Kunikida’s nagging, Ranpo’s bragging, Kyouka’s queeries, Kenji’s silly supportive texts, and Atsushi’s appreciation.

His phone buzzes, and he can tell right away that he doesn’t want to answer it. It rumbles some more, and he flops over, ignoring the device. Ten minutes later, he hears a gentle knocking, instead of the violent door assault that Kunikida is privy to. Who have they sent to fetch him this time? He was doing fine with his internal revalations, if he has to actually put them to practice so soon he will actually grow nauseous.

“Dazai, may I come in?” says Atsushi from outside the door.

“Hmph.”

Atsushi politely lets himself into Dazai’s dorm.. huh, Kunikida must’ve given him a key, and sits down on his legs and gently prods at Dazai’s shoulder.

“C’mon, I need your help.”

“Get Ranpo to do it.”

“He’s out today.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, you’re out of luck then!”

“Dazai,” Atsushi says, lowering his voice and looking around to check that no one is listening in, “I need your help specifically..”

“You have thirty seconds to make it interesting.”

“Ineedhelpwooingaportmafiamember.” Atsushi says in one fell swoop.

“What?”

“I need your help wooing a Port Mafia member..!”

“Wow, I didn’t know it was getting serious with the Port Mafia’s rabid dog,” Dazai begins to mock, “you kids grow up so fast!” he declares.

“Dazai,” Atsushi says through gritted teeth, “be quiet.”

“Ahhh, I see how it is~” he teases.

“Shut upppp, seriously, just help me out..!”

“Fine fine, so the first thing you’re going to do is…”

—

“Kyouka, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Dazai throws on an overexaggerated smile and crosses his legs. It’s not that he dislikes Kyouka, not at all. He simply doesn’t know how to talk to her. She’s not very expressive, so there’s nothing for Dazai to bounce off of.

“I need help with using the stove after work today.”

“I see..”

Kyouka stares at him. He stares back, both waiting for an answer. Dazai’s head is swimming with questions and anxieties about how this conversation could turn out.

“Right,” Dazai stalls, “I’ll help you with the stove two hours after I’m off the clock..” he looks uncertain but finishes anyway, “does that work with you?”

“Yes.”

“Alrighty then..!”

God, that was awkward. Dazai wishes his life had ended four years ago, so he’d never have been responsible for such a conversation. How does Atsushi deal with the embarrassment? Wait.. Dazai might have prepared his colleague well enough on his own for dealing with embarrassment, huh.. Whoopsie? Well, no! Actually, Dazai did him a favor, and now Atsushi is a pro at having conversations with Kyouka. He may have unknowingly made his young coworker surpass him, but to be fair, there was no one to be a Dazai to.. Dazai. So he had no clue how to handle this embarrassment now.

By the time Dazai comes to, Kyouka has already gone back to her workspace. Why had Kyouka even asked him for help? The hopeless detective eats almost exclusively canned crab! He has no real experience with a stovetop. Fuck okay, Kyouka would normally have asked Atsushi but he’s been busy with his budding romance lately, (thanks to Dazai of course) and hasn’t had time to teach Kyouka life skills. But still, Dazai? Why on earth would she come to him for help. Was it.. perhaps because Atsushi.. trusts him? So she does too?

Wait no- that doesn’t make any sense! Kunikida is always the more viable option! Right, Kunikida. He needs to drag that man away from his work (heh) and force him to teach Dazai how to use a stovetop in time to teach Kyouka everything she needs to know. This is his moment to +..｡*ﾟ+shine+..｡*ﾟ+

He needs to go bug Kunikida RIGHT NOW! Dazai saunters over to Kunikida’s seat and drapes himself over the man.

“Kunikiiiiidaaaa,” the badaged man whines, “I need your help right now, it’s dire! Urgent! My life depends on it!” ”Dazai, leave me alone, some of us have things to do during the work day.”

“Kunikida, you don’t get itttt, I need your help for realsies!”

“What are you bugging me about, Dazai, spit it out.” Kunikida wears an unimpressed expression.

“Soooooo-”

“Get on with it, Dazai.” Kunikida’s irritation is palpable.

“I maybe need to learn how to use a stovetop, hehe?”

An exhausted self-restraining sigh forces it’s way out of Kunikida, “Dazai, you are banned from cooking for a reason..!”

“I know! But Kyouka asked me to teach her how, and I can’t let go of this opportunity to bond with herrrrrr!”

“You’re still not allowed in a kitchen anywhere at any time!”

“Well, hang on now, you’re a bit too quick to say no-”

“Dazai!”

“No wait, hear me out!”

Kunikida facial features morph to convey an expectant expression, but he lets Dazai speak.

“You supervise and teach me how- I promise- I won’t leave your sight. I need this to be safe too.”

The idealistic detective raises an eyebrow, but eventually accepts.

“Great! So we can start now- wonderful!”

“Wha-”

And with that, Dazai drags Kunikida to the agency kitchen. Kunikida’s anger ebbs and fades away as he watches Dazai actually pay attention and put effort into learning. Kunikida drills patience and constant vigilance into Dazai as he teaches. These are essential to cooking on a stovetop. Kunikida’s sure Dazai would even be taking notes if that brilliant brain of his wasn’t storing the information like a computer hard drive.

Once Kunikida has taught Dazai all the basics, he remembers he has a job to do. However, Dazai uses the man’s panic to drag him away again, this time to a grocery store.

“Dazai what are we doing now?” Kunikida groans.

“Shopping!”

“Any other hints?”

“I need to get the stuff so I can teach Kyouka.”

“What stuff?”

"Oh, you know..” Dazai avoids the look Kunikida shoots his way, “stuff! Like pots and pans! And also something to stir with.. and a wisk, and.. other stuff..”

“Are you telling me that on top of your dorm being entirely unfurnished, it is also devoid of cooking utensils?!”

“Ding ding ding!”

‘How have you made it this long?”

“I wonder that very question myself oftentimes.”

“Ugh, shut up, let’s get your stuff, bandage squandering machine.”

“Yay..?” comes Dazai’s weak celebration.

They grab their items, and afterward, Dazai calls her and asks what her plans are regarding food and recipes. She had no idea what to do, so Dazai and Kunikida handled it. Aka, searching for recipes in the car and driving somewhere else to get the ingredients. Once their shopping trip is over, Kunikida finds himself following Dazai to his dorm and setting up. When Kyouka arrives, she doesn’t even question Kunikida’s presence there. She just nods and makes her way inside the barren-looking dorm.

Kunikida doesn’t know why he stays, he ends up helping Dazai teach Kyouka. She’s an excellent student. When their night of cooking is over, Kunikida and Kyouka are cleaning up.

“So what made you want to learn about cooking, Kyouka?”

“Oh, I already know how to cook.”

Kunikida pauses and turns to her, “Then why did I teach you how to cook on the stovetop today?”

“I wanted to get you and Dazai alone together because you have a lot of unresolved tension and it’s getting ridiculous,” Kyouka remarks, “and Dazai really needed to learn how to cook, Atsushi’s getting really worried about it.”

Kunikida binks and processes before he nods, “So you were killing two birds with one stone?”

Kyouka nods this time. Kunikida lets a pleasant silence wash over them, stays back when Kyouka leaves.

“She was scheming to get us together, I’m pretty sure.” Kunikida chuckles.

“Oof, yikes, a little late for that.”

“Perhaps we should have disclosed our relationship to our coworkers when we started dating.”

“Bah, they don’t need to know, besides, it’s still new! We deserve some privacy, neh?”

Kunikida shakes his head, grinning all the while.

—

Kenji is a sweet boy. A sweet, kind, observant boy. He notices when Dazai isn’t doing too well. When his mental health is dragging him through his days. He also notices that Dazai is making an effort to allow himself to be helped. He’s quiet about it, but Kenji can tell. He sees it in the way Dazai agrees to meet up at a restaurant to celebrate a recent case, even though Kenji can see that Dazai is sluggish and would much rather be in bed, sleeping through every bad thought he’s ever had.

A simple conversation with the president allows Kenji to take Dazai with him to the fields. He says it’s because he needs help with the crops. While they could always use a helping hand, Kenji’s real goal is to get Dazai out of his somber routine. Teaching him about the beauty of life and death through farming is the perfect change of scenery! Kenji even got some farm clothes for the lanky man. Which is sort of hard to do when you’re a farmer, because everyone is toned from the labor.

Still! He managed! And the clothes are only a little baggy. Just slightly. Dazai is smart, but manual labor is not his strength, but that doesn’t stop Kenji from praising up a storm! Because really, Dazai is trying hard, he can see it. And while manual labor is important, Kenji knows that applying ones strengths can do wonders to break them out of a spiral. So the blonde farmer asks Dazai to consider using that big brain of his to make the process easier. And it works! Dazai found a much more efficient way to do farming while still getting the satisfaction of doing the work. Dazai learned so much! Kenji couldn’t be prouder. When Dazai returns to Yokohama, he’s brighter, and definitely exhausted from the farm work.

When he returns, he takes a couple of days off. One can imagine Dazai’s confusion when he answers his door and sees President Fukuzawa there with some thick paper, brush pens, and some ink. The silver-haired man is let in, and he asks if he might attempt to do some traditional calligraphy with him. Dazai agrees, and is still quite surprised by the suddenness of it all. He spends the next few hours calmly working next to Fukuzawa, who seems much more familiar with the practice than him. Maybe it’s just a small thing, but the calligraphy isn’t so bad, and perhaps he wants to try more of it, just for the sake of it. So he asks Fukuzawa for some tips. The president offers him a gentle smile, so he guesses he’s doing okay.

[em-writes-stuff]

chains

day 11 of two weeks of whump @promptsforyourwhumpfic

hero, villain

warnings: being held hostage, cursing

764 words

a/n: do i know what this is? no, am i posting it anyway? yep!

---

Villain spits at Hero’s feet, “Let me go.” 

She fights against the chains anchoring her to the wall and grunts when they don’t give. The manacles dig into her skin, rubbing the flesh raw. She stares at Hero, her eyes throwing daggers at him. 

He smiles and shakes his head, and takes a step back, “Not yet.” 

“Nobody’s coming for me, if that’s what you think. It’s just not happening. Supervillain doesn’t give a fuck about me.” 

Hero stares at her, then at his watch, then back at her. “It’s only been a few hours. I wouldn’t give up hope yet.” 

She scoffs and slumps against the wall, “Yeah, right.” 

Hero stands there for a few seconds before nodding once and turning around, “I’ll be back with something for you to eat in a few hours. Any allergies?” 

“Fuck you.” 

The door slams and Villain slides down the wall, the chains jangling loudly every time she moves. She stares up and traces the shadows cast from the bars on the window. It was going to be a long wait. 

The sunset was a soft purple, it painted the walls of the room Villain was in. In terms of sunsets, it took forever. Over half an hour later, the wall is still stained with a deep red. 

A knock at the door and someone pushes it open, a head peeks past the door frame and Hero smiles, “I brought a sandwich. Ham and cheese.” 

He tosses it to her and walks into the room the rest of the way, leaving the door open behind him. Villain cranes her neck to see past him, she catches view of a door that could be an exit. 

She grabs for the sandwich and lifts the top piece of bread to inspect it. 

There was a thin layer of mayonnaise spread onto both pieces of bread, and three pieces of ham on either side of a piece of cheddar cheese. 

“I hope you don’t mind crusts,” Hero jokes. 

She looks up from the sandwich and glares at him, “You’re holding me hostage, do you really think you can make jokes?” 

He holds his hands up in mock defense and nods, “You’re right.” he slides down the wall across from her and sighs, “Just thought I’d try to lighten the mood a bit.” 

“Not gonna happen.” she takes a bite into the sandwich and quickly finishes it, rubbing her hands together to get rid of the crumbs. 

Hero’s shoulders raise and he turns away from her, “Those are loud.” 

“What?” she stares at him, then shakes her wrist furiously, “The chain? Yeah, it’s like its made of fucking metal or something.” 

Hero nods again and stands up, “I’m sure someone will get you by morning.” 

“And if they don’t?” 

He looks over his shoulder and sighs, then closes the door without an answer. 

Before the sun comes up, Hero knocks on the door again and hands her a cup filled with cold coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. “I thought you’d be gone. I left the window unlocked.” 

“What is this?” Villain snaps. She sets the cup down on the ground next to her hand and balances the bagel on top. “What the fuck is this?” 

“Breakfast?” 

“No. Not this. This-this. Leaving the window unlocked? Keeping me so close to the exit. What’s going on?” she narrows her eyes, “What’s your plan?” 

“No plan. I’m just bored.” he admits. “I’m sorry you’re the one trapped here, but Supervillain hasn’t done anything in months and I was trained to do stuff. Not just sit around. I needed something to do.” 

Villain almost laughs, “Let me get this straight: you kidnapped me because you’re bored?” 

He nods. 

“Do you know how fucking stupid that is?” 

He nods again. 

“Are you gonna let me go?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Jesus!” she shouts, “It’s like working with a toddler!” she shoots to her feet and pulls against the chains, “You’re not doing this for a good fucking reason! Let me go, you motherfucker.” 

“Someone has to come for you,” He says, almost to himself. “Someone has to notice you’re missing soon.” he looks at her, “Right?” 

“No!” She shouts. “Nobody’s fucking coming for me! I told you that eighteen hours ago!” 

He shakes his head and walks up to her, gently holding her wrists in his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought someone would come for you.” 

Gently, Hero unlocks the manacles and lets the chains clatter to the floor. Villain pushes past him and walks out of the door, slamming it behind her. 

[aogram]

Cleric of Joy - (Prisoner 006) Esvel First Trial Voice Drama

Read under the cut! No TWs apply

A door swings open, but no steps come immediately after. The door is subsequently slammed shut as someone, not Verus, laughs.

Esvel:

Warden! What are you just standing there for? Come in, sit.

Verus:

I do not need to be invited into my own interrogation room, nor told to sit. And I will do so on my own time.

Esvel:

Damn, what’s your problem? I get that you’re in charge and all, but…

Verus:

…

Esvel:

Oh, I get it. You’re awestruck. I did notice that I was looking particularly radiant today.

Verus:

I most certainly am not. I’m surprised that you’ve developed the impertinence required to put your feet up on a table with your shoes off during your interrogation.

Esvel:

It’s not as if I haven’t got socks on. Would you rather I put my dirty old boots on there?

Verus:

And here I’d hoped for a prisoner with less attitude this time around.

Now footsteps can be heard, and then a chair scraping. There’s a scuffling sound followed by a light thump.

Esvel (laughing):

I prefer to think of it as a bit of… flair. I’m keeping people on their toes. And if you’re worried about me and Samako, just wait until you meet the next one.

Verus:

Enough. State your name, age, and occupation.

Esvel:

Right. My name’s Esvel Elmwood, 23 years old. I’m a cleric of Lliira.

Verus:

Lliira. I read a bit about her in preparation. Goddess of joy. A minor one, though, correct?

Esvel:

Ooh, Warden, a lot of people would probably take offense at that statement.

Verus:

A beloved minor goddess, then. And you’ve been a cleric for how long?

Esvel:

Well, I started college at 19… then I left a few months later and found the temple in a few weeks. So, about 4 years?

Verus:

I take it you’re devoted, then?

Esvel:

Depends on how you’d define “devotion”.

Verus:

Elaborate.

Esvel:

I do what’s asked of me. Plan celebrations and help worshipers and all. But it’s not like I’d die for her.

Verus:

Are you meant to do that?

Esvel:

Well, she doesn’t ask that of anyone. But I think a lot of people still would. Like you said, she’s a beloved goddess.

Verus:

And is there anyone you would die for?

Esvel:

Mm, that’s kinda invasive, isn’t it?

Verus:

Having your mind probed for music and a vision is a great deal more so.

Esvel:

Fair point. Well… there was once, anyways.

Verus:

And now?

Esvel:

Well, someone ended up dying. 

The room is silent for a few seconds.

Esvel:

Well, now I’m here, and they’re not. So it doesn’t really matter, does it?

Verus:

I’m not so sure about that.

Esvel:

There isn’t much to say, really. The really fun bits will be revealed in the song, right? I’d love to hear what it ends up sounding like, but maybe--

Verus:

Moving on, then. How are you adjusting to life at the prison?

Esvel:

I’ve got a few complaints about that, actually. The atmosphere is depressing; everything’s so gray that it brings down my mood. There’re no festivals, no celebrations. And--

Verus:

Next question. How are you getting on with the other prisoners?

Esvel:

My gods, I was just getting to that. No wonder everyone’s complaining about you.

Verus:

Everyone?

Esvel:

Well, a lot of them. The ones who talk to me, and the ones who talk to each other loudly enough that I can overhear.

Verus:

Intriguing. Now answer my question.

Esvel:

I like to think of myself as someone who’s easy to get along with, you know? People at the temple and in town liked me. But for some inexplicable reason, nobody here gets on with me particularly well.

Verus:

Nobody?

Esvel:

I mean, they’re nice enough. But they never want to actually do anything with me.

Verus:

What would you be doing?

Esvel:

Dunno. Art? Playing music? Talking? I tried to organize a little mixer so everyone would get to know each other, but it flopped miserably.

Verus:

A… mixer?

Esvel:

Like, a little party with treats and stuff. Only a few of them-- Dan, Araglar, and Virian-- showed up, and even less actually talked to each other. Or ate the food that I worked sooooo hard to… summon at the magic altar. It’s very taxing work, you know.

Verus:

I… see.

Esvel:

It’s tragic, really.

Verus:

And why, exactly, did you feel the need to do that?

Esvel:

They say that the three joys of life are food, drink, and other people. A party has all of those. Maybe that’s why people like them.

Verus:

Out of all the prisoners I’ve interrogated thus far, none of them seem to be the… partying type.

Esvel:

They aren’t. But I know they’d enjoy it if they tried.

Verus:

Do you?

Esvel:

Everyone has to take pleasure in something. Something’s bound to suit their tastes.

Verus:

And why do you care if they’re enjoying their time here?

Esvel:

Well, I’m a very empathetic person, y’know? So when they’re depressed, it makes me depressed. It’s better for everyone here if we’re all happy.

Verus:

I see.

Esvel:

I don’t think you do. One of the first things that members of Lliira’s clergy learn is that joy is a powerful, healing force. Without it, the wounds accumulated throughout life never truly close. Then you’re left with a nasty, bloody mess and suddenly nobody wants to talk to you. 

Verus:

So you have wounds that need healing through… all of this?

Esvel:

That’s another kinda personal question, Warden. 

Verus:

Answer it.

Esvel:

Probably? I’m here, after all. But I like to think that I’m still having a pretty good time.

Verus:

I see. But you’re here to be judged for your sins, in case you’ve forgotten.

Esvel:

Riiight…

Verus:

And we haven’t even talked about them.

Esvel:

Nuh-uh. That’s not true.

Verus:

Excuse me?

Esvel:

Don’t you remember what I said? Someone ended up dying.

Gears begin to grind as the platform lowers. 

Esvel:

…Anyways! It’ll all be clear when you see into my mind or whatever. I’m not all that complicated of a person, so it should be a good break from all the… broody, woe-is-me types you’ve had to deal with so far.

Verus:

Very well, then. I’ll listen to what your heart has to say. Prisoner 006, sing your sins.

---

Read Esvel's first trial MV Transcript here

Vote here

[luna-nigthshade-wood]

HAPPINESS IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Dean is at peace and happy with having sacrificed his sight in exchange for getting Cas out of the Empty. His family not so much Aka 5 times Dean has to explain his sacrifice to a member of his family and one person that understood all along.

6-Claire

-Mind if I sit?- Claire tells Dean, not waiting for an answer before plopping down next to him.

After Cas and him finally made up, things begun to fall into their places, bringing a sense of peace to the Bunker, so much that Sam propose to do a celebratory party for all their family, which Dean easily agreed to. Planning and preparing the party hadn’t been as easy as Dean thought but at the end all their efforts pay off and now less than a week later here they were celebrating a small barbeque outside the Bunker.

Dean was sitting a little bit on the far end of the property just taking everything in, with Miracle firmly at his feet. From where he is at, he hears Garth boisterous laugh as he speaks with Eileen of something or another, he hears Jack´s playing tag with Garth´s kids and Patience and losing badly by the sound of it, he can hear Cas conversing with Bess and Kaia and Rowena conversing with Krissy, he can almost sense Sam´s frustration as he is trying and failing to grill their dinner, with Donna nearby distracting him, while Jody actually does the cooking.

That all being said, it is not a surprise when the missing member of their family sits beside him, even if a little unexpected.

-Penny for your thoughts?- Claire asks- Isnt that what you old people say?- she mocks

-Har, har, biker Barbie- Dean snorts- For your information, I am just taking in the moment- he says before adding- And you how are you? You and Kaia doing okay?

-I am… We are good- Claire tells him- At the very least, none of us went into a suicide mission through the Empty- she sarcastically says

-C´mon, come at me then- Dean says calmly- Ask me why?

-I know why- Claire says- You did it for love- she states so matter of fact that Dean lets a small laugh at that

-You might be the only person that has not asked me for an explanation- Dean states

-Really? Garth asked you for an explanation? - Claire asks surprised

-Mr. Fizzles gave me a speech I almost wish I was deaf as well- Dean deadpans, making Claire laugh

-Yeah, I think it would have that effect- Claire says, before adding- But for real, I understand why you did it, and if you repeat what I am telling you next I will end you, but I am really grateful for it- she claims- After all, Cas is the closest thing I have to a father.

-I thought you still blame him slightly for, well, you know- Dean says, making a few gestures

-It´s complicated- Claire confesses- Jimmy, my dad, well, it was complicated. He made his own choices and those choices weren’t always the best for me. I think a part of me always resented him for choosing to say yes, so I latched out to the closest being. Anyways, I am not so sure he would agree entirely with my life choices- she finishes

-Jimmy loved you- Dean starts saying

-I know

-No, I mean, he really loved you, and don’t get me wrong, I didn’t met him enough to form a well-informed opinion- Dean states- But I think, at least the Jimmy I saw at the end would have been really happy just by you being happy- he claims, before adding- I know I am

-Thank you- Claire says, hugging him tight- I guess you are not bad, for an old man

-Hey- Dean says mockingly, before helping her stand up- Now lets go distract Sam before he burns our dinner- before they rejoined their family.

Things weren’t perfect, there were still things to clear out between all of them, but they were happy and that was enough for all of them. (Even if the burgers were slightly overcooked)    

First chapter Ao3

[amunyan]

Love me, not him! (2/?)

Still not sure about my English-skills… 🫣🤨

But it also makes fun to write this … 😅👉👈

And I also want to try something out here; I like these sorts of games in which you can choose your own ending by making your own decisions. Since I am a nerd without a live 🤭🤓I had to much ideas anyways… So; Let’s get started with this…

You looked out of the windows, while Mereoleona was sitting next to you, controlling all the documents about missions and stuff like this. She was still mad about the bad ranking of the Order, so she „wanted to check if there was an error“. At least that was the reason she told you. But you know better. It would never be logical for her, even the reasons were valid enough, to check lists about completed missions.

So, still wonder about the question „What is her real reason for this sort of meeting“ you were staring out of the window; watching the threes shaking softly in the summer breeze.

„I am not this interesting. But she keeps trying to get my attention since she arrived a week ago“, you thought to yourself. „So... Why? “

„I see…” she mumbled „No mistakes here. At least you are doing your work proper, (Y/N). Expecting nothing else...“

You didn’t hear her. Still asking yourself for her reasons to spent time with you. „She also has enough other work to do with the Royal Knights and the upcoming mission...“

„(Y/N)? Hey? “

Still watching the leaves outside with your thoughts elsewhere.

„Hey, (Y/N)?! Are you listening?” Mereoleona raising her voice caused you to wince.

„Yes, Captain Mereoleona?!“

„Oh? Why are you so polite? We've know each other for years, my dear?“

„I know. But after all... you are my boss at the moment“, you responded quietly with a cold in your voice. Trying to cover your little shock.

You want to keep your distance to her. But Mereoleona had other plans.

Still a little amused, she asked if you also talk to her brother this way.

You answered nodding. Knowing that this polite manner is needed. In particular for other people of the Order, thinking you are just a quiet clumsy girl. It puts you in a more professional role.

„Hey? What’s wrong? You are talking way less than usual with me, my little secretary? Even at the hot springs you kept ignoring me.“

„You were in good company anyway; You had a nice talk with this girl from the Black Bulls and the Captain of the Blue Roses. Also had fun with Leo and his friends from the other orders. No need for me.”

“Jealous, because we weren’t alone this time?”

You looked at her, raising one of your eyebrows. “No?  You also already took me there a few times... So the hot springs are not this special anymore...“

„Really? I thought I saw you enjoying the bath and the view of the stars every time we went there.”

But you waved it off. The last times you got way too much of her attention...

„Being hunted down across an active volcano by you, while trying to maintaince my manaskine, is like vacation in hell...“

„Come on, (Y/N). As I would let you die there for real. I’m just pushing you to get stronger.“

You were not quite sure about this. One of the main reasons you don’t like her.

„But you also got way better since last time…“

You shrug. „Anyway-“ You thought about remembering her that she hit you way to hard the other day;  what leaves you still a little mad. Compliments and praise would also not change this. But you stayed quiet. Above all, you wanted to finish this pointless meeting. So you reached out for the folders in front of her. “Are you finished here by now? If yes, I would be pleased to put away the documents...“

The moment your fingertips touched the lid of the folder, she griped your wrist.  „Or are you avoiding me because of our fight? Did I hurt you this badly, that you are one week later still in bandages?“

„Not really“, you answered while you manage quiet easy to  get out her claws.  Showing her that you were able to move your fingers. „See? Nothing broken... But; Are you already done yet?“

Without waiting for a respond and being caught again you manage to bring back the files in the filing cabinet. As you wanting to close it, you hear a chair, being pushed back an in the very next second.

“Finally…I can call it a day.” You felt a little relief; the two of you were done here.

She was at looking at you, her bushy eyebrows squinted. Her eyes were filled with fury but somehow also with concern. She was so close you could feel her breath on your skin. Her scent, similar to her brother’s, but spicier, in your nose. You can’t help and blushing badly.

„Mereo, please. Let me go“, you said quietly. As Mereoleona started smirking - showing her fang - you realized that you really called her by her nickname. It made you feel worse.

„Fine“, you whispered and giving in. „The bandage... You burned me badly the other day. I was sure my defense could take your heat but.... I was too ashamed I didn’t ask a healing-mage for help.“

„I see“, Mereoleona mumbled quietly.  „ I’m glad. I thought broke your bones.“, she sounded relived. But her voice changed the second after, when she wanted to know why she ashamed you.

„ I... I don’t know why this made me mad the way it did. But... I... I.... C-can you please move, Mereo? You are far too close.“

„Is this also embarrassing for you, (Y/N)?“ She asked coming closer. Made you blush again.

„Mereoleona... Please...“

„I can't hear you. Speak up... Come on, (Y/N). Let me he hear your voice“

„Please... Let me go.“ You felt close to start whining. You tried to push her away but before you could, she changed the topic; Asking you how far you and Fuegoleon already went. „Has he made a move by now? Is this the reason you are so afraid of me?“

You couldn’t answer. You grow stiff and felt tears filling your eyes.

„Or did he still not realize how much of a sweetheart you are?“

The first tear run over your face, dripped on the ground. Followed by another one.

„I see... No progress since the last time.“ Her voice softens as you felt her finger on your face. Whipping gently away your tears. „Is it really worth for you, (Y/N)? You are in this one sided relationship for almost five years... and might continue it for much longer? He never made a step towards you. And... you never had the courage again to do so...“

„I already told you years ago that I love him.“ You looked up at her. Your eyes still wet, ready to burst up in tears at any given time again.“

„Are you really happy? He might only see you as his friend. His secretary for paperstuff... Nothing more...“

That was the Moment you pushed her away, running to the door as fast as you could. Your heart still in your mouth. As you put your hand on the doorknob you turned around again. Unsure what to say, especially seeing her full of worry in her blue eyes. An expression you never know Mereoleona was capable of.

[You were sure your Feelings for Fuegoleon are strong enough]

Her words were hurting you. Right into the heart, like little sharp knives. Even more, because you know they are not true….

“Please… stop this. I… I really like him. Even more – you know. Even he never responded my feelings it’s fine for me to stay by his side. I don’t ask for anything more…”

Without waiting for a Response you left the Office room.

[You noticed that she has a point…]

„She has a Point, yes”, you thought to yourself, close to tear up again.  “Even if she is harsh and directly Like always, she is right. Fuegoleon never really returned my Feelings until now. Why? Does it really mean I am nothing more than a assistance for him. It can’t be…“

As you heard Mereoleona approaching towards you again.  “Excuse me”, you whispered as you left the office Head over Heels.

Still hearing Mereoleona asking herself where she went wrong.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

This BEAUTIFUL art reached into my rib cage and squeezed my heart to the point where I felt the need to write a Oneshot about it. Never done this before, so strap in.

------

Mikey had always considered himself better at emotions than his brothers were. He knew when Raph was hiding his stress or when Leo was having trouble sleeping or when Donnie was annoyed with everyone. Thanks to Mikey's inherent ability to sense and diffuse them before they even broke out, bad arguments were uncommon.

At least, they used to be.

Ever since they had defeated Shredder, it was rare that the Hamato household go a week without some sort of shouting match between certain older brothers. Mikey deduced that between moving to a new lair, the sudden change in leadership, and residual trauma from facing Shredder, turbulent emotions were expected. But not like this. Never before had arguments ricocheted off the walls to dig into Mikey's empathetic heart like this.

It had been three whole months of on and off yelling. He thought it would get better. It had not gotten better.

They'd been out of eggs that morning, so Mikey settled for cereal instead of making something for his brothers. He, Leo, and Raph sat at the table in a kitchen that still felt strange to them, munching on their Honey Bunches of Oats with nothing more than idle chit chat.

Mikey zoned out for a moment, staring at the maze on the back of the box. It was simple, but he enjoyed them. The next thing he knew, he realized Raph was talking to Leo about responsibilities again.

Oh no oh no it's not even ten am yet Mikey thought desperately. He could feel the air shift; the dark clouds of an argument closing in.

"Hey, uh, who wants to go grocery shopping with me later today?" he asked. Subject changes, those used to work!

Key word 'used to', because Raph said, "See Leo, that's what I mean, you've even got to be aware of the little things like groceries!"

"But dear Raphael," Leo answered sweetly in a way that made Mikey cringe, "may I just say that that is stupid!"

Mikey tried to block it out. He hated arguments. Yelling would start soon, he was certain of it.

"--responsibilities now, Leo! You've gotta have plans for things that don't involve fighting. Ya know, like groceries, like Mikey said."

"Well maybe I was GONNA get groceries anyway, but since you keep PESTERING me about it--"

"Raph isn't PESTERING you!"

Mikey swirled his cereal with his spoon, appetite gone. His stomach squeezed. This was going to be a bad one. He thought of popping up, pleading with them to stop. But deep down he knew that would only make things worse.

"You're ALWAYS nagging us! Can you give it a rest? I know what in doing."

"Uh huh, sure."

Leo slammed his hands on the table with a bang. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mikey screeched his chair back and bolted out of the kitchen. As he ran, he could hear Raph say something like, "Now look what you've done!"

Mikey didn't stop sprinting away from the growing volume of the argument until he found himself surrounded by dim purple lighting and the faint whirring of machines.

Donnie's lab.

It wasn't yet as crowded as the old one. It stung, knowing that Donnie had lost his entire life's work and now had to completely start over. It was too empty, too empty, now Mikey wanted to cry even more.

Donatello himself was sitting at a computer, typing endless lines of code. His head bopped slightly to the beat of his headphones. He swiveled on his stool when he sensed Mikey. "Ah, Angelo! Would you be so kind as to bring me another cup of--" he broke off, his 'oh shoot, emotions' expression flashing across is features. "Uhh what's wrong?"

Mikey jerked a thumb over his shoulder, shaking his head. He could still hear them. His breath hitched.

Donnie's raised eyebrow quickly lowered into a scowl upon removing his headphones. "Back at it? Annoyed sigh, it's still far too early for this type of behavior."

"It's almost ten, Dee," Mikey mumbled.

"Precisely. They are going to ruin the rest of our day."

Mikey's lip trembled. He knew that. They'd already ruined his. The whole lair was going to feel dark and sticky because of this.

Donnie stood up, then gently pulled Mikey towards a clear worktable. Mikey plopped down with his shell facing the door. It has escalated to bellowing. He couldn't stop the distressed chirp that left his mouth.

"I've got you, Mikey," Donnie murmured, rubbing his shell the way he knew calmed Mikey down. "Here." Dee slipped his headphones off and carefully placed them over his little brother's head.

The argument was blissfully blocked out. No more raging Raph or loud Leo. All Mikey could hear was "Weird Science" by Oingo Boingo.

Burying his head in his arms he mumbled, "Thanks Dee."

"No probbles," Donnie replied distractedly. Mikey caught sight of him typing soundproof lab into his long to-do list, before we went back to rubbing Mikey's shell.

"Those dumb dumbs better not do this forever," he growled, glaring over his shoulder. Catching sight of Mikey watching him, he cleared his throat. "Because it's distracting, of course, he said truthfully."

Mikey mustered up a weak smile. "You do care."

"Preposterous," Donnie said, even as he resumed his rubbing of Mikey's shell.

They stayed like that for a while, Mikey letting the sounds of "Science is Real" by They Might be Giants wash over him instead of the raised voices.

"Donnie?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For- for this." Why was Mikey suddenly unable to express himself? He felt unstable. Like the cracks in his family had shattered his ability to deal with any emotions at all.

But then Donnie patted him on the head. "Anytime, Angelo." He hesitated. "I know I don't normally let anyone in my lab but... when they get loud, you are free to crash in here. If you wish." Donnie was trying, Mikey knew that.

Now Mikey smiled. "I'd like that."

At least he had Donnie. And for right now, that was enough.

Donnie didn't get to soundproof his new lab yet.

[misterellyott]

I have a lot of time at my night job to do things I like to do, like scroll tiktok and facebook. While scrolling tiktok a while back I came across a guy who reads AITA stories and I quickly got really into it.

He set up a podcast that covers his tiktoks and youtube videos so I can just listen to him while playing my stupid little idle phone games, which really gets me through the night and helps keep me on track and keeps me walking when I really just want to sit down.

But, I'm on a goal to walk at least 10k steps a day and most days I hit 20-30k as I a lot of the time end up walking my dogs for over an hour that day, as well as work a second job that requires me to be on my feet and moving around my store to ensure that everything is stocked and looking nice.

Anyways, listening to the podcast a lot of the time Dusty's wife Candy comes on a lot and it's really admiring to see a man who truly loves his wife and shows it in his words and actions. They have been together eight years and have a blended family. (he had three kids from a previous marriage, she had one kid, and then they had one kid together.)

It's given me a lot to think about as my marriage hasn't always been the best. We will have been married four years next year, and we have gone through a lot of ups and downs in that time, and yet we are still very close and very much in love.

The problem lies now in our son. He is biologically mine, and I think that has created a lot of issues with his mom.

She recently pointed out something that I had overlooked because I am busy working 70-80 hours a week and constantly out of the house. Our son is now in a phase where he doesn't want to listen to her, turns to me if he doesn't like what she has to say, and doesn't respect her answers.

Since she pointed that out I've been noticing it more and more.

Like the fact that he was staying at a friends house and texted me in the middle of my sleep to ask what time I wanted him home by. As I wouldn't be home that evening, I steadfastly told him, that he knows I sleep during the day and that I work in the evenings through the night that he needed to contact his mom to see what time she wanted him home as she would be the one home to hold him accountable.

Fast forward to the later afternoon, he text me asking me if I could pick him up at 9pm, the time his mom said she wanted him home by. I saw the text but got busy at my job and wasn't able to reply. About an hour later, he started trying to call me, and it triggered irrational anger and when I got a break in customers I texted him back that again, as I stated this morning, he needed to talk to his mom as I was at work.

Yes, I am his father, but he does have a mother, who is home more and provides more of his care at the moment as I'm otherwise indisposed.

I'm trying to think of a way to sit him down and have a conversation with him, rationally, and explain to him that unless I'm home (wednesday and thursday) that he needs to talk about things with his mom. I don't have the time to play go-between when I'm sleeping or at work and it's exhausting to always have to be the middle man.

He doesn't need me to be the middle man. His mom isn't mean, and she is always reasonable when he makes reasonable requests, so I don't see why I need to be involved with every little aspect of his life when his mom can and will handle it if I'm not there.

Yes, I want to be there for my son and I'm always happy to hear about his day and talk to him about things he is doing in school and the things he is excited about, etc. But, I don't understand why he still comes to me with questions like 'can I spend another night', 'what time should I be home', 'can you pick me up' etc. More so when he knows I'm working and can't answer those questions because I don't have any idea of what his mom might be planning for that evening/day/etc.

There is only one day a week every week that he knows we need him home and that's mondays. And every other week, he needs to be home for wednesday as that's family date night and we all go out and do something together, this past wednesday we went and saw the nun 2.

I don't know how to approach the conversation and ask why he feels that his mom's words aren't acceptable. Why does he always have to field everything my way?

Is he mad at her? Did she do something to upset him? Does he just not respect her? Or hopes that maybe I'll give a different answer? I just don't know.

Because even if he does ask me and I play go between, I always ask his mom what she thinks and then we come to an agreement and then I tell him what she says. Because usually, I don't really have any idea. I don't have any input as I'm not there so I don't argue with anything she says about it because she never makes unreasonable demands.

Is this just because I was basically a single father for ten years? Or is this because he doesn't respect her? I just don't know.

I'm tired of feeling like my family is divided and I'm the one caught in the middle and it needs to end and fast. We are family.

He has made the choice to basically go no contact with other biological father, more so because his other father has made it known in the past few years that he really has no interest and makes no effort to be there for him. (He can't even be bothered to text him happy birthday or merry christmas or anything).

And his mom has made every effort she can to be the best mom for him. So I just don't understand what is happening here.

Either it's just a teen being a teen or there are deeper issues at foot.

I wish therapy wasn't so difficult to come by where we live because we all really need to get into it.

Why is being an parent so damn difficult?

I guess I'll just wing it and see what happens. Or see if he is even willing to be honest with me in the first place.

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

UNIVERSITY WITH MENTAL ILLNESS

Mental health and illness is already hard enough, but adding school pressure on top is hard. High school was easier for me since there is a lot more structure and a lot less choice, which is why I'm targeting this towards college and university students.

Firstly is attending class. Getting to class is a major hurdle, especially with a commute like me (1 hour+) broke people problems lmao. Driving that long to go to a class just to drive back home is already exhausting and unpleasant, especially knowing professors will post slides or something after class anyways. But you have to drag yourself there. One thing I do to help is dress up. I'll do my makeup and put on nicer clothes. Why does this work for me? I hate wasting stuff, especially money and to me, putting on makeup is spending money essentially (same logic as using rare items in a video game idk). I can't just sit around the house and waste the money I just put on my face so I gotta go to class. Small things like this to trick your brain works so well. Before this, there was a restaurant I absolutely loved next to campus so if I went to every class for two weeks I would reward myself by going there. Another thing that helps is making plans with people ahead of time. They'll hold you accountable on days that you can't.

Take rest days. Schedule one whole day a week where you don't do school or go to work. It's a day completely off for anything. I use this day to do chores in the morning and then just lay around and do absolutely nothing all afternoon and night. This helps recharge and reduce stimulation and socialization. It gives your brain that little rest it cries for every day. I used to panic so much about this one day because I could be working and making money or studying or doing anything to be productive until I had a week where I couldn't do anything because I broke down completely, mentally and physically. Now I see it as a preservation day. I use this day to recover from everything.

Make your notes pretty. I hate going back and looking at my messy class notes. Everything is scattered and messy and I get frustrated. What I do instead is make a virtual, concise copy that is pretty to me. I'll add little sketches, color, pictures, etc. This helps draw my attention and allows me to study while doing it! Making the second copy forces you to go through the material after a class is over and review the material to decide what is truly important and then organize it all and then rewrite it all. This has been a huge help.

Use class breaks to snack or grab coffee. One thing I have found in many people with high anxiety is that food and drinks really help calm you down. I've found some research suggesting it's because food is a signal that things are safe and therefore makes you more relaxed, though I don't know much about anthropology and psychology fields. I find this really helps to calm me down after I had a very stressful test so that I can be more present for the next class. Gum helps a lot on high anxiety/panic days as well.

Download the notes or slides, especially if posted ahead of time. This way you have access even if you don't have wifi. You can even pull them up in lectures so you don't have to focus on the board the whole time. For my people with autism, this has helped me so much. There are times where you can't focus on the professor and the slides and the sounds and writing, so doing this cuts out having to watch the teacher and the board. Bonus points if you can record during lecture as well so you can revisit parts that you zoned out in or couldn't focus on.

Keep a journal or diary and list your activities, food, weather, etc in it as well as your mood. This can help you find correlations to hack shit. My favorite way of doing this is through the Daylio app (I wrote a post about it here). Like I notice that days when it's rainy, I study and read more and days where I walk more and eat breakfast, I focus better and am happier overall. This information helps so much. If I know it's going to rain tomorrow, I won't try to force myself to study a bunch today and instead save that energy for later. Instead, I'll take care of myself and go for a walk or something. Knowing how you work and why really makes a HUGE difference.

This might just be my autism brain, but finding cool things related to the topic at hand has helped me keep interest in at least a little of the subject, helping me study more. Like I don't like chimaeras (a fish group) BUT for some reason I love fish teeth and these fishes have a very unique tooth set. This at least let's me know something instead of just ignoring and forgetting everything. 20% is better than nothing.

Find a reason to study what you do, even if it's just that you need this class to graduate. Just taking classes for no reason seems like something neurotypical people are able to do. I can't do it. I need a reason and if I can't find one, I just give up. I used to always say it was useless and pointless and didn't understand why it was required. But I realized the reason to take it is because I want a piece of paper that says I traded lots of money and sanity for it. And that reason has to be good enough.

Make study games. Games are more fun than lifeless paper. Matching games, crosswords, coloring pages, whatever you like!

Feel free to add your tips to this post as well!! I always have room for improvement and experimentation, especially for really hard days. I still find myself skipping even online classes some days. No one had all the answers or has everything figured out. This is just an incomplete list of things that have helped me out a bit and made college life a bit easier.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

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

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why…Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[sweetiesicheng]

jun - royalty

word count : 616

-

"your highness, prince junhui is here to see you," one of the servants mentioned while standing in the entranceway.

you looked up from your book to look at the servant. "you can tell him to come here," you said to her.

the servant bowed before leaving. you returned to reading your book, turning to the next page.

you were sitting in the garden in your home, the castle of your town. the season had brought beautiful flowers out and about for everyone who ventured to the castle to enjoy for themselves.

you had been reading all day since after breakfast, enjoying a book that your boyfriend had bought for you.

while continuing to read, you heard footsteps walking closer and closer to you. you glanced up for a second to see your boyfriend walking up to you and smiled, closing and setting the book down beside you.

"hello there," you spoke as jun approached you.

"hi," he greeted you. "are you enjoying the book?" he asked and sat down next to you.

you nodded, "i am," you answered. "when did you get here? you should've told me you were coming here."

"my father is here to meet with your father in regards to the security for the wedding. i tagged along last minute so i could come see you," jun replied and kissed your forehead.

the wedding he mentioned was for the marriage between a highly respected person from his kingdom that wasn't in the royal family to your older sister. their wedding was scheduled to occur in three weeks.

"it's going to be held here, right?" he asked, mentioning to the garden you two were in.

you nodded, "yes, it will. the gardeners and other helpers will start decorating soon. i overheard some of the plans for the decorations for the wedding. it’ll be quite beautiful.”

“yea, i can’t wait to see it in person,” he replied. "would you like me to bring you more books the next time i see you? i've read one lately that you would probably enjoy," he asked you and put the book you were reading earlier onto his lap.

"if you don't mind me borrowing your own books. i plan on going to my favorite merchant once i finish this one," you said, putting your hand on your book and patting it twice. "did you read this one?" you asked.

he nodded and smiled, "i bought myself a copy and read it within a few days. interesting, isn't it?" he asked.

"it is, but you buying it for me makes me love it even more," you replied to him. "i brought the other books you got me out as well," you mentioned and picked up the two other books that were sitting in the table next to you. "i didn't have anything to do so i figured that i could at least start one of these later," you added. "would you like to go inside?" you asked him, unsure of what he wanted to do.

he shook his head, "let's stay out here. you can continue reading if you want," he said, handing back your book.

"are you sure? we can do something else instead," you responded.

"i don't mind," he replied, "i can read one of these while you finish that one. you're almost done anyway." he grabbed one of the two other books, "maybe we can go walk around after you're done," he suggested.

you nodded in response, "okay.”

the two of you started reading the books and enjoying each other's company in your castle's garden together. after some time, you leaned your head on jun's shoulder and he responded by kissing the top of your head.

[sunnikos]

Day 3: Good Intentions

Hello! I am participating in Dazai Birthday Week 2024. This is Day 3! (I’m late, I know.)

There is a silly bit about religion in a scene and minor Kunichuu, if that’s not your thing, I implore you not to read :)

1.2k words

Enjoy the piece, and stay tuned for the next one!

| Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 |

Things have been weird all day. Atsushi has been avoiding his gaze, Ranpo has been snickering at practically everything, Yosano has a horrifying, knowing look in her eye, and many more vaguely concerning things. Maybe Dazai would be paying more attention to what it all means if he weren’t busy trying to nap on the agency couch. He’d had a fitful night of sleep, hell, a fitful week of sleep, and he needed his nappies goddamnit!

After another unsuccessful attempt at sleep, Dazai peeks an eye open and points it at Atsushi.

“Where’s Kunikida? I haven’t seen him all day.” Suddenly, his head is being smacked with a stack of papers.

Yosano stands over him and crosses her arms, “He’s out running errands for the agency, don’t bother him.” she scolds.

“Me? Bother Kunikida? Well I never-”

“Yeah yeah, no need to pretend you’re not an obnioxious little shit, we all know you here, Dazai.”

Dazai pouts and crosses his arms, “You guys never let me have fun around here.”

Yosano scoffs, “As if you listen to us enough for that to be true.”

“That’s right! So I’ll be off then!” he sits up, ready to cause problems.

“Ah ah ah, you’re staying right here Bucko,” she presses him back down by his shoulders, “if you need something to do so bad, you can take on a case.”

“Nooooo, I can’t work today, I’m sweepy.”

“Uhuh, that’s what I thought. Stay down soldier.”

The bandaged detective rolls his eyes and “stays down” until Yosano leaves. Then he noses around the agency looking for clues. He searched for things the agency would need so much that Kunikida would actually leave the office for a non-case-related purpose. Kunikida is a meticulous man, but also an efficient one. There's no way he’d leave for just one or two items, and Tanizaki did the normal grocery run this week.

Were they planning some sort of celebration? Why not tell him? Unless… were they planning a birthday party for him? Ugh, that would be exhausting, but… well, maybe it could be nice too. Dazai is a hard man to surprise, so their keeping it hidden this long is.. a miracle, really. He can just pretend to be surprised when the time comes. That, and stop pushing for answers now. But what will he dooooooo, it’s so boring hereeee.

Maybe he could still snoop a little bit; he just needs to be sublte. He can do that, stealth is his forte, maybe even his calling. The only person potentially more sly and covert than Dazai in the agency is Tanizaki. What with his ability basically being stealth squared. Still, that’s a pretty good amount of stealth for Dazai. So he haphazardly shuffles through file cabinets and sloppily probes and prods around Kunikidas desk.

You see, the stealthy part is that he’s paying more attention than he lets on. Everyone expects him to be nosey and careless, but if they think he’s uninterested enough, he could get away with this. He sneaks his happy little ass out of the building a few minutes later, and with the clues he’s collected, he might just uncover where the valiant Kunikida is, and what he’s doing. So if it is a birthday party, then Kunikida might be at the store. And since everyone is trying to keep him at work, the party must be in his own dorm room.

Ahah! He’s still got it. Now, ruining the surprises would no doubt lower the morale of his bright and squeaky coworkers. So, he’ll just take a peek. Nothing terrible, really. It’s his dorm anyway. He makes a beeline for the agency dormatory. The door to his dwelling is wide open, inviting him in, as if he were an expected guest. He hears various signs of life in the home and makes his way toward the sounds. An unexpected sight greets him. Chuuya is sitting crisscross.. in the air. Kunikida is hunched over a pile of wood with some random tool in his hand.

“What’s going on here?” Dazai questions.

Kunikida glances at him a moment before continuing his work.

“I figured it was about time you got a bed frame, you damn mongrel.” he huffs out, almost affectionately.

Dazai scowls, “I am no mongrel, and why are we installing a bed frame?”

“We? I am doing all the work here.” he rolls his eyes, “and if you haven’t noticed, your living situation is a crime to humanity.”

Chuuya snorts abruptly at Kunikidas remark leading to a small, barely-there smile gracing the poets face. Dazai balks at Chuuya then Kunikida.

“Are you two flirting right now? In my holy place of worship?”

“You are the furthest thing from holy, damn mackerel.”

“How would you know that Slug?”

“Because I’ve watched you commit sins on many occasions-”

“I’m a changed man chibi! The lord has saved my wretched soul from enternal punishment!”

“Current sins. As in this week.” Chuuya sighs deeply, “There is no convienable wau your ass managed to repent from all the shit you’ve done within that time frame, and even less of a chance that you actually attmpted in the first place.”

Kunikinda chuckles, “I agree, if Dazai had gotten himself straight through religion or otherwise, I would have noticed.”

“I’m sorry you have to put up with his shit, but at the same time, I’m relieved that I don’t have to anymore.” Chuuya states.

“Guys, I am right here.” Dazai declares incredulously.

Chuuya and Kunikida ignore him and continue chatting. The bandaged detective stands in his dorm room unmoving or blinking until he’s shaken out of his stupor by a well known slugs.

“..anpo’s here, I don’t know how he predicted you’d figure out our surprise but he’s here to gloat now I think.”

Dazai holds his breath for a second, “Yeah.. that sounds like him.”

“You bet I am!” Ranpo affirms and slings an arm around Dazai’s shoulder.

Kunikida nods appreciatively and begins collecting the tools he used to assemble the bred frame, “We haven’t gotten the mattress in yet, but Chuuya will be up with in a few minutes.”

Ranpo acknowledges this and turns to Dazai, “So how do you feel about your gift?”

“Shouldn’t you have already deduced that?”

“Nah, s’not my place, and I didn’t get paid enough to think about it.”

“Right, it’s gonna be weird having a bed.”

“Yeah, I bet. Your place is always a depression pit.”

Dazai nods and hops on his kitchen counter and settles into a comfortable seated position. Ranpo waves him a casual ‘bye’ as Chuuya comes in with a floating mattress behind him.

“Delivery for a bastard, hello, is bastard home?”

Dazai snickers, “Nope, he just left.”

Chuuya huffs, “Whatever mackerel.”

When everyone leaves Dazai to test out his new bed, he thinks how almost bitter sweet it is. He had been expecting a party, and even looked forward to it, only to get furniture he never asked for. (Note: he also never asked for a birthday party.) Yet, despite how unsure he was about the new addition to his home, he was silently grateful, for the best night of sleep he’d had all week.

Were Kunikida and Chuuya going to be a thing now? They got along too well; what if they’re gonna be all in his face sappy about it? Fuck, he has to think about that later, damn!

[struggling-with-time]

Does your father know? [Sapnap x reader]

Paring: Sapnap x Gender neutral!reader

Summary: A couple of nights out, that the local adults certainly aren't supposed to know about. But definitely does. And the things that happen at those parties. College AU SBI!reader.

Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff

Words: 4.6K

Masterlist: Sapnap's Masterlist - SBI Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: This has been brewing in my head for days, so here it is. Please request if you feel like it. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You are casually chatting along with Karl, and a very drunk Quackity. The music is loud in the house. You don’t remember whose parents own the house, it's more likely it's an involuntary frat house. But it sure isn’t a place you are used to coming to. You can spot Sapnap as he makes his way over to the three of you, and before you know it.

Sapnap pulls you along onto the dance floor, barely giving you time to put your drink down. You are already a good few drinks down and can’t help but feel like floating as he drags you along. A giggle passes your lips as you make your way into the dancefloor.

The music is loud, and while you have never heard this song before, you feel like you know the lyrics to it.

Sapnap places his hands on your hips as the two of you dance.

It’s nice, it’s fun.

It’s not what you are supposed to be doing.

Because as far as your family is aware, you are sleeping nice and soundly at home, and not out drinking and partying.

Well, most of your family, you could have sworn you saw your brother, Wilbur, in the crowd earlier. But what he doesn’t know. Won’t hurt him.

“Having fun tonight?” Sapnap’s voice breaks you away from your though. His face is suddenly a lot closer than before. His warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered. A grin works its way onto your own face.

“With you? Of course.”

It’s loud. It’s warm. It’s crowded.

Yet there is nowhere else you would want to be for the night.

Sapnap pulls away from your ear again, mouthing along to the song that’s playing. And the two of you dance, losing yourself to the crowd. Losing yourself to the music. Losing yourself to each other.

None of you have count on the number of songs that pass by. Each one seemingly bleeding into the next, and your energy never-ending. Your dancing ever the fun.

You can feel his hands as they glided over your body, seemingly exploring all of it. And you enjoy it, egging him on as you dance. You dance only for him. Matching your hips to the rhythm. Your eyes locked on his. His hands locked on you.

A cheeky wink from you timed to the music, is all Sapnap needs for him to pull you close against him once again. His lips ghost over your ear.

“You look great in blue.”

His touch goes from warm to hot, seemingly setting you ablaze. His lips trailing over your neck. Down to your shoulder. From your shoulder back to your neck. His teeth grazing over your neck lightly before he continues back up to your ear.

You can feel him whisper something to you, but you have lost most senses. Only able to focus on his touch. As his fingers grip you tighter.

He pulls his face back, and you lock eyes with him. A smirk is eminent on his face.

It’s clear to him, it’s clear to anyone taking a glance at you. He is driving you wild.

His left-hand leaves your side to cup your face. He pulls you in slowly, and you more than willingly follow along. His lips ghosting over yours once more. For a second, it’s just the two of you. Just for a second. But only for a second. Then the spell breaks.

“Fuck.” Sapnap mutters and pulls away. His hands letting go of you completely, and suddenly you are forced to stand on your own. You feel a bit disorientated at the sudden pull back to reality.

Sapnaps eyes are locked on something a bit behind you, a string of curse words seemingly leaving his mouth. You’re unsure if he’s muttering or talking. The music overpowering them either way.

You turn around to find what has brought him to pull away.

And there in the outskirt of the dancefloor stands a tall pink-haired guy, holding a brunette slumped against the pink guy. Or as you formerly know them, your older brothers Techno and Wilbur. They seem to be looking for someone, as Techno seems to be looking through the crowd that has assembled on the makeshift dancefloor.

Sapnap leans over to your ear once again.

“Does your dad know that you are out?” This time he’s yelling, no longer intimate or secretive whispers.

“No!” You yell back to him.

“Do you think they’re looking for you?”

Techno catches your eyes and raises a hand. Answering Sapnaps question for you.

You manoeuvred your way through the dancing crowd, leaving Sapnap alone. Approaching your brothers. You cast a glance back to where you stood, Sapnap already gone in the crowd. You try not to look disappointed, as you look back at your brother, but one raised eyebrow from Techno is enough to tell you, you failed to do so.

“Drunk?”

“Drunk.”

You sigh, as you guide Wilburs arm over your shoulder, and the three of you head into the night and down the street. A couple of minutes passes, and Wilbur starts to mumble about his big plans for the future.

You and Techno share a laugh at your brother's expense in the night. The inevitable scolding from Phil far away in the future.

It takes you exactly three weeks before you have done enough chores to get ungrounded. Although all three of you had snuck out in the middle of the night. You and Techno had been responsible enough to bring Wilbur home without trying to drive, and you had even woken Phil up yourself when you got home. Although you were pretty sure he had heard you from the moment you had stepped through the door. And Wilbur had decided that the hallway would be a perfectly good place to take a nap.

But that was three weeks ago, and now is now.

You have the clothes you want to wear in your backpack, along with your laptop and a physics book to make it believable.

While you don’t pride yourself on being a party animal, it doesn’t hurt to participate when invited. And especially not when Sapnap himself invites you.

“Bye Dad!” You yell out as you pass the kitchen. Phil sitting on his laptop, with Tommy beside him looking close to crying in frustration over homework, and Wilbur seemingly trying to cook something up. Keyword trying.

“Wait up!” Phil yells out, making you stop in your track. “Come in here.” You slowly backtrack your steps, making you stand in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He squints his eyes at you, before looking you up and down. Tommy mouths ‘someone is in trouble’ to you. And you resist against, in all better judgement, to hit him.

Instead, you lift your backpack, “Study session at Karls, remember? I’m staying over for the night.”

Wilbur decides now is the perfect time to join the conversation, a playful look on his face. He knows exactly what’s going to be happening at Karls place tonight. Despite still being grounded, you know you will see him there later tonight.

“Study session huh? I thought you had study group on Wednesdays?” Wilbur brings a hand up to mimic a thinking position.

Fuck.

“I do!” Was that too quick? You look back at Phil, “I do.” You repeat yourself, “It’s just for my physics lecture, got a test on Monday.” Phil seems to not completely buy it. “Besides Dad, I am ungrounded after all, you said so yourself yesterday.”

Phil hums. “I did say that…” He looks you over once more. “Alright. At least let Techno or Wil drive you.”

That decision is easy enough for you.

“TECHNO! DAD SAYS YOU HAVE TO DRIVE ME!” You yell into the house. You swear you can hear your brother grumble about having to drive you from upstairs. But you elect to ignore it.

You look back over at Wilbur who is now discarding his apron in favour of getting out of the house. He knows if he can play his cards right, he can make Techno stop at the music store. And he might just be able to catch his totally secret girlfriend Sally for a couple of minutes. Not like he won’t be seeing her tonight.

You listen as Techno walks down the stairs. Now audibly complaining about being the only responsible driver in the house.

You would drive yourself, but having one car for four people to share isn’t exactly great. You tried having a driving plan once that you could put yourself on when you needed to borrow the car. It ended up with a month of Wilbur hogging the car. So now instead, you all just always drive each other around like soccer moms.

Techno looks annoyed at you as he passes the kitchen. But you know if he was truly annoyed he just wouldn’t have come down at all.

You turn to follow Techno into the hallway but are still able to overhear Phil questioning Wilbur on where he is going.

“To drive with them of course.”

“You’re still grounded.”

“C’mon Dad, Phil, Philza, it’s just a drive, it’s not like I would be seeing anyone.”

“Fine.” Despite not being able to see Phil, you know your dad is trying his best not to smile at Wilbur’s antics. “Just a drive. You probably need to get out of the house anyway.”

And that’s enough for him to end in the backseat of the car. Tagging along.

You automatically go for the AUX, as the designated DJ in the front seat. You barely get to press play, before Wilbur has started a conversation. A conversation that is closer to an interrogation.

“So Karl’s place to study, huh? Nothing to do with what’s going to happen tonight at all?”

“Oh please.” You turn your head to look back at Wilbur. “As if you won’t be there too.”

“Techno is gonna be there too!” Wilbur whines, as if it would make the situation any better.

“Wait, really?” You look over at Techno, turning forward in your seat once more.

“Yeah, Dream won at practice the other day.”

“How?” “You lost?” You and Wilbur speak at the same time.

“The guy put oil on my sword, so I dropped it.”

You snort, and Wilbur laughs. “So much for Techno Blade never loses.”

“Oh, shut up the two of you. At least I’m not grounded.”

“Hey!” Wilbur shouts.

The car ride passes with sibling banter, and a couple more jabs at each other before you are pulling up to Karls house. You quickly get out and yell a quick “See you later!” before heading over to the front door. You smile to yourself as you overhear Wilbur asking if they can stop by the music store as he changes from the back seat to the front seat.

You listen as the car pulls away, and you get to ring the doorbell.

A flustered Karl throws open the door. Loudly greeting you, before pulling you into a hug.

“You made it! I didn’t think you would, but then again Sapnap did invite you. But you did say no the other couple of times and-”

“I get it Karl, but I’m here now.” You smile at him, letting him breathe. He giggles. “Can I come in?”

“Oh yes! Of course! Of course! Come in.” Karl guides you into the living room, closing the door after you. You stand awkwardly in the doorway until Karl grabs your wrist and leads you over to the sofa telling you to sit down.

You kinda expected more people to be here. But instead, you are met with the familiar faces of Karl and yours friend group. Not to mention a couple of Wilburs friends. Not that the small town is big enough for everyone close in age to not already know each other. The community college isn't exactly helping either.

You can already feel tonight will have a different feeling than last time. Way more down to earth, and way more chill.

Quackity falls into the seat beside you and offers you a drink, which you happily take. “It’s nice to see you not all dressed up you know.” He tells you. Suddenly you’re happy you didn’t change at home, not that you had much of a choice.

“Yeah, it’s nice not to be all dressed up.” You say, taking a sip, as you eye your backpack that was placed against the wall in the living room.

“I hear both your brothers are gonna be here later. I can’t believe Phil just lets you guys go out. My mom thinks we are studying for English class.” Quackity complains. "I hate still living at home."

“Oh no, you have it all wrong, Phil doesn’t.” You laugh, a bit dry, but it is what it is. “He thinks I’m here for a study session for my physics lecture, Wilbur is still grounded for the last time the three of us was out, and Techno is only coming because he apparently lost to Dream at fencing practice.”

Quackity snorts, “Techno lost to Dream?”

“I know! That was my reaction too.” The two of you share a laugh.

“I can’t believe the Minecraft household is filled with degenerates.” He feigns a disappointed tone.

“You aren’t that much better.” Sapnap buts into your conversation. You hadn’t noticed him walking in. Quackity lifts his hands in defeat and gets up from the couch. Only for Sapnap to quickly takes his place.

“I’m guessing by that your dad doesn’t know about tonight either.” He teases you, and you look away for a moment, your purple drink suddenly very interesting.

“He does, sorta, not. He thinks we are here to study.” You give Sapnap a weak smile, and he chuckles at your antics.

You barely miss him muttering, “Cute.” Underneath his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

And then silence falls upon the two of you. You want to keep him talking, of course, you do. How could you not want to? It’s Sapnap.

Every time he speaks, you want to cling to each word and hold it dearly. Instead, you flash him a smile, and he smiles back. Before looking away, and you can’t help but feel a bit defeated at that.

However, you are saved by Karl hooking up his phone to a speaker and way too loud music blasts into the living room.

It takes a good half-minute before the volume is lowered enough for it to be background music, and it takes even longer for anyone to agree on what playlist to be put on.

The afternoon bleeds into the late afternoon, and more people have decided to join. You now share the three-person couch with two more people, leading to you being pressed up again Sapnap. Not that you are complaining.

Wilbur and Sally have arrived too, already sitting on the floor together. Already - as your youngest brother Tommy would say - already sucking each other’s faces dry.

Techno seems to be the last person to join the gathering, bringing beer too. Of course, you can’t help but think. Of all the people he’s the only one of the three of you, that could ever make Phil buy any of you beer.

"Techno is the most responsible of you four."

"C'mon on dad! This isn't fair!"

"Exactly! I understand her, but daaaad we're both 20 why do you want to help him but not me?"

"Shut up Wilbur."

You are in a heated conversation with Karl about the right way to read document history. When you notice a touch on your left side. You stop midsentence, Karl doesn’t notice and keep arguing his side. But Sapnap does.

You can feel a pair of eyes on you, as you look down to see his hand around your waist. Neither of you have talked to each other since the quick conversation. Then Dream and George had each pulled up a chair nearby the couch and the three of them had talked since then.

Suddenly you get hit with the thought, that maybe, despite all better judgement, just maybe. What happened a couple of weeks ago wasn’t just because you were the nearest person. Just maybe it was because Sapnap actually looked your way.

You don’t let the thought get to your head too much, because the second you look at him. He’s back in his conversation with Dream and George about something you don’t really care about from the sounds of it. You shake your head; you must have been imagining stuff. He didn’t look at you.

You get two more drinks in you, as the evening passes on, and Sapnaps hand seems to find its way onto your thigh. You have no intention of getting drunk, but the feeling of Sapnaps hand on you seems near addicting.

It’s nearing midnight when a less than sober Dream suggests a game of Truth or Dare.

Techno complains against it as the only one, stating “We aren’t middle schoolers.”

So you play truth or dare.

The first couple of rounds starts innocently enough, the mood is good. Everyone is having fun. You are enjoying yourself, listening to embarrassing stories, to creating new ones alongside your friends. Finding yourself curling into Sapnaps side just a bit more.

He doesn’t protest or say anything against it, so you take it as a win, and keep leaning against him.

Then a drunk Quackity gets his turn and asks George for his worst hook-up. And the energy in the room changes. From then on the innocent truths and even more naïve dares are out the window. For stories about peoples experiences, and dares that seemingly gets riskier and riskier.

You manage to dodge most questions, keeping to the truth after that point on. Until you are unable to.

“Don’t be boring! Choose dare!” George eggs you on, and you give in. Anyone would give in, you swear the guy has pretty privilege. Most of the living room cheers.

“I have a good dare.” Dream says.

“Too bad it’s not your turn to ask then.” You stick your tongue out at him and turn your attention back to George. When you see the guy motioning for Dream to whisper his dare. “Betrayal George, I will never forgive you.”

“Too bad for you then.” His smile widening the longer Dream keeps whispering. Your worry starts to grow, you are already regretting deeply for giving in to the peer pressure.

Dream retreats and looks satisfied with his idea. George takes a moment to think it over, but it’s clear that he has already made up his mind.

“I dare you…” He clicks his tongue. “I dare you to give Sapnap a lap dance!”

“What?”

“You heard me!” George looks proud of himself, or his idea, or Dreams idea. You don’t know. Your stomach is seemingly doing backflips at the idea, while your head is spinning for the exact opposite reason.

“Chicken?” You try, you don’t notice the desperate look Sapnap is giving George.

“Nope,” George pops his ‘p’, “you’ve been boring all evening with only choosing truth. Besides we're all adults here, c'mon it could be a lot worse.”

You look over at Wilbur, who is more than occupied with Sally. Then over at Karl, who has a teasing grin on his lips, as if he knew this would happen. Then to Quackity, who looks like someone who definitely knew this would happen. Then to Techno, who looks like he could murder Dream. And knowing him, there is a 50/50 chance he’s still mad over losing or that it’s about the idea Dream just proposed.

“He didn’t say it had to be here,” Sapnap says to help you out. “We can just leave.” Your head pecks up at that. He’s right. George didn’t specify where. A smile forms on your face, a smile based on relief.

Dream starts to protest, but you have already grabbed Sapnaps wrist and started dragging him into Karls room.

You miss Techno slapping Dream over the head.

You make Sapnap sit on Karls bed, as you make sure the door is locked. You would rather die than anyone walk in on you. You look around for a speaker, and you barely get your phone out of your back pocket before Sapnap has put his hand on your wrist now.

“Hey, you don’t have to do it.”

You look at him, panic still evident in your eyes.

“What?”

“I said you don’t have to do it.”

“What?”

He smiles at you and tugs you over to sit beside him on the bed.

“For the third time, you don’t have to do it.”

His left-hand cups your head, his right hand has moved from your wrist and into your hand.

“It’s just a stupid game of truth or dare anyway. Techno is right, we aren’t middle schoolers. Fuck, we aren't even high schoolers.”

You smile at him, before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re right. I thought you would want that, though.”

Sapnap leans his head to the side. Asking you to continue.

“I mean, you’re Sapnap. Oh, c’mon on don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” he grins at you now. The air suddenly becoming light around you.

“Please, don’t act like you don’t know. Everyone knows.” You look away for a moment, his hand lightly turns your head back to look at him, and you let him. Although the look you are met with is one of confusion and not the cockiness you were expecting.

You sigh once.

Then twice.

Then once more.

You were really about to do this, in the bedroom of your childhood friend. Jesus.

“Sapnap, seriously. This isn’t funny.”

“What? I feel like I lost the thread somewhere here.” His hand falls from your face, and you can’t help but want to chase it.

“I like you, everyone knows that. This isn’t funny. Seriously. Everyone knows I’m absolutely hopeless for thinking you would even look in my direction.”

You fall onto Karls bed, letting yourself sink into the purple bedsheets.

“Well, I can tell you two things.”

Sapnap falls onto the bed beside you. The two of you now staring into the wooden ceiling that’s decorated with glow in the dark stars.

“And what are those two things?”

“You see, one nobody thinks you are hopeless.” He chuckles a bit at that. “If anything, I’m the hopeless one here.”

You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same to you, giving you a kind smile.

“And now why would you be that?”

“Because two, not everyone knows that you like me, I didn’t.” You return his smile, although you feel a need to look away at the words, you keep eye contact with him.

“Well, now you know, making me right.” You tease or try to. You can feel the air has gone from light, to very heavy suddenly. Barely breathable. And you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, you know what words you hope he speaks next. But yet, you can’t stop expecting to get laughed at and rejected right here.

“I guess, but you see, I would say I’m the hopeless one here. Because I’ve been trying to tell you that I like you for months now.” He covers his face with a hand. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, I sound like a cliché.”

You let out a small laugh, “Yeah, you do a bit. But…”

“But…?” he asks, his hand still over his face, but you can see him peaking through his fingers.

“But I don’t mind it, I think it’s cute.” And now it’s his time to laugh.

Then slowly a silence falls over the two of you. Unlike the one from earlier, this one is saying more than a thousand words, while saying absolutely nothing at all. It’s just two people who like each other enjoying a moment.

“We should probably get back to the others again.” Sapnap breaks the silence, and you take a deep breath at the sudden disturbance.

“Oh yeah, the others.”

“The longer we stay here, the more they are going to wonder what we are doing.” You can’t help but laugh at that.

“You are sadly right Sapnap. You are unfortunately right.”

You groan as you sit back up, offering him a hand that he gladly takes, but instead of you helping to pull him up from the bed.

He pulls you down into his lap once more.

"However..." He starts, "They can wonder all they want."

You can feel his hands on your hips now. As he leans in to start trailing kisses over your neck once more.

Your breath hitches.

His teeth grace your shoulder before you can feel him sucking.

His hands exploring you as you lean into the pleasure.

You start squirming in his lap, and he stops.

"No."

You pause, as his hands quickly leave you.

"No?"

"I am not having my first time with you, with your brothers down the hallway, and my best friends absolutely listening in," Sapnap admits to you.

The statement makes your face heat up, and you try to hide away in his neck. He chuckles at the cute gesture.

"We should get going..." He trails off but makes no moves to actually get up. Just basking in the heat you apply to him.

You sigh, as you get off him, his hand now holding yours.

"Sadly you're right."

He gets off the bed and stands beside you.

However, when you prepare to let go, he keeps your hands entangled, and if you’re honest, you don’t mind all that much.

You unlock the door and head back into the living room. All conversation going stale the second the two of you stand in the doorway.

Dream ever the curious, is the one to break the ice. “Sooo…”

Sapnap lifts your entangled hands, and the room breaks into cheers. And you swore you heard a couple of people mutter finally. You hide your head in your hand, trying to hide your embarrassment alongside it.

Leading you to miss Karl throwing Quackity some money, and George doing the same to Dream.

You lift your head from your hand as you hear Wilbur speak.

“Good luck explaining that one to Dad.” Wilbur laughs, but a smile clear on his lips.

"What?" You say, as you can feel Wilburs eyes burning onto your throat. Your hand quickly coming up to try and cover the clearly evident mark.

A glance at Techno tells you that he too is happy for you, but even more clearly he is on the brink of smugness. Knowing you're going to get in trouble tomorrow.

He has been the one on the end of most of your seemingly endless rants about the moment that happened weeks ago at that party. The one that your brothers ruined, so it felt self-explanatory for them to be on the end of your whining.

Sapnap guides you, as the two of you return to your seats on the couch and the night continues.

Nothing has truly changed, yet it feels like everything has changed.

And somewhere along the night, things did change.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[comfortbucky]

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”