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jakesimfromstatefarm · 1 month ago

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no doubt ── s. jy (sneak peek!)

update: this fic's been posted! click here to read <3

↳ summary ── struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.

↳ pairing ── jake x f!reader, [ft. childhoodbestfriend!jungwon, bestfriends!enha]

↳ genre ── idol!jake, friends to lovers!au || fluff, angst, crack

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── hai everyone, the freaking turmoil & HOLD this fic has on me,,,has me writing til 8AM in the freaking morning because CLEARLY ─ i have unspoken issues . anyways here's a teaser of my recent hyperfixation that i'm sharing with the world. at the rate i'm writing this every night (& morning), it should be out soon (hopefully) :3 also this snippet i decided to include is my attempt at angst...i hope yall enjoy !

also send me an ask/comment if you'd like to be tagged !!! <3

snippet under the cut!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

“Y/N.”

His voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled hum of music and laughter seeping from the party you should've escaped from a long time ago. You stop in your tracks, swallowing hard before turning around.

Jake stands a few feet away, his usual easy confidence replaced by something raw, almost broken. He looks disheveled, his hands clenching at his sides as though they're the only thing anchoring him.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice low but unsteady.

You stomach twists, but you steel yourself, "What do you want, Jake?"

You shift your weight and instinctively cross your arms, a defensive barrier between you and the boy you spent too long letting into your heart. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in them makes your resolve falter.

He takes a hesitant step towards you before exhaling shakily, running a hand through his hair.

“I—I messed up tonight. I didn’t mean to...," he trails off, his words fumbling, his eyes searching yours in desperation.

"...to completely ignore me all night? Make me feel like nothing?" You finish for him, your quiet voice breaking despite your attempt to stay composed.

"No. God, no. You're not nothing," he says quickly, his voice faltering on the last word. "Y/N, you matter so much to me."

“Well it definitely didn't feel that way,” your voice is barely audible, but you finally look up at him, the hurt bubbling to the surface. “After everything you said—promised, everything we talked about…”

"I know, I just—" he hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. He takes a tentative step closer, his movements slow and careful, like he's afraid you'll shatter if he gets too close. "I was nervous."

"It’s been so long, and I didn’t know what to say, how to act. I wanted to get it right—to make it perfect—but instead, I just—" he stops, dragging another frustrated hand through his hair. His eyebrows knit together in that familiar way that once made your heart flutter, but now only adds to the ache in your chest.

You let out a hollow laugh, the sound foreign even to your own ears, “Well, congratulations, Jake. You managed to mess it up anyway.”

“Please,” he looks devastated, his hands trembling at his sides. “Y/N, please don’t think I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know. I just—I don't know how to do this. I panicked and I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."

You look at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you take a shaky breath, “Then why was...why was she all over you tonight? Why didn’t you stop her?”

He falters, his shoulders slumping under the weight of your question, “It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t,” you echo, the words spilling out in a rush now, each one cutting deeper. “I should've known. Let me guess, she wants to get back together, right?"

Jake's silence is deafening, and it immediately answers your question. He opens this mouth, but nothing comes out. The way he looks at you—eyes wide and filled with regret, lips trembling as if searching for the right words—confirms everything you’re afraid of.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a shaky breath escaping your lips—the sound caught somewhere between a sigh of realization and a choked sob. No matter how hard you try, the wall holding back your emotions cracks under the weight of it all. The doubts you've tried so hard to bury suddenly resurface, crashing over you suddenly, each one carrying the sting of every insecurity, every fear you’ve ever had about this moment, about him. Your chest feels tight, your heart splintering under the realization that everything you were afraid of might be true.

"Jake, I can't do this," you whisper, shaking your head. "I can't be the person you lean on while you try to figure out what you want."

"No, no—Y/N, I do know what I want," he pleads, his voice cracking as he tries to step closer. "And it’s you. Always been you, Y/N. Everything I said before—I meant it."

His words hang heavy in the air, the faint echo of the party music filtering through the cracks in the door and into the quiet hallway. You look away, refusing to let him see your tears finally spilling over.

"You promised," you let out softly. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me. You said you'd prove that I could trust you, that I didn't have to be scared. You knew I was worried, Jake. And you hurt me anyways."

"And I swear I meant every word I said. I still do," Jake says, his voice desperate. He steps even closer, his hand reaching out and brushing yours, but you pull back before he can close the distance. "You have to believe me. Please, Y/N. You're the only one I care about."

You shake your head again, the tears now freely slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts, "I don't know if I can believe that anymore, Jake. I wanted to, I really, really did. But tonight..."

Jake’s face falls, the weight of your pain crashing into him all at once. His lips tremble as he struggles to hold himself together, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. This was the first time seeing you in so long, and this sight of you—broken because of him—cuts deeper than he thought possible. His voice is barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—God, please. Please give me a chance.”

You look at him—at the boy who's become your safe space —and all you feel is the ache in your heart.

"I can't do this right now, Jake," you finally let out a deep breath and take a step back. "I think I just need space."

The words hang in the air like a death sentence. His breath hitches as if your words physically hit him in face, "Y/N..."

Your phone suddenly buzzes, a text from Jungwon letting you know he's outside. You glance down at it, then back at Jake. For a moment, you hesitate, your heart screaming at you to stay, to give him the chance he's begging for. But your head knows better.

"I have to go," you murmur softly, turning away before the tears threaten to spill all over again. You force yourself to keep walking, fighting the overwhelming urge to look back—to let him pull you into his arms, where you wished so desperately you belonged.

Frozen, Jake watches helplessly as you walk away, his chest tightening with every step you take. Everything feels like it's caving in, regret clawing at him the more he sees you walk further away. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—but the words fail him, silenced by the weight of his own mistakes.

The hallway falls into a haunting silence, broken only by the faint echo of your retreating steps, a cruel reminder of what he's just let slip away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

not my usual style of light-hearted crack...but sum of the other parts are still very rom-commy bc im sucker for dat shtuff :3

let me know if you'd like to be tagged !

<3, addie

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months ago

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Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach.

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right.

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong.

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective.

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago.

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

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artsekey · 1 year ago

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I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

#computers #pc #digital #rant #something something planned obsolescence

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siriusblackdevotee · 1 month ago

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wolfstar (a microfic that should've been a microfic but I'm so lazy so it's not)

Heavily inspired by this + someone rb saying they thought of ootp timeline. Although I posted it thinking of the first war timeline, post Azkaban is funnier so we're here.

Sirius: Since we're together—

Remus: Since we're what?

Sirius: *face falls* Oh, I just thought—I thought we were... since we never actually broke up—

*Remus silently mouthing broke up??*

Sirius: —I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed we were... i mean, I don't actually expect you to still be in love with me.

Remus: *voice cracking*You knew???

Sirius (hurt): Oh Remus, of course I knew and it's okay, really, I understand.

Remus: No, I—... You should be shocked about this. Why aren't you shocked about this??

Sirius: You believed I was the traitor, that I killed Peter for 13 years. With all that time, after everything you thought I did... *shrug* Naturally, you would've stopped loving me.

Remus (pained): Sirius, no, no, of course it was fucking awful but—

Sirius: I know, I predicted as much. I told you it's fine, we broke up. It's all in the past. It's fine if you even... found someone else—

Remus: Stop, just stop. You-You keep saying we broke up.

Sirius: *bitter smile* Well, didn't we? Never said we are, but we may as well have.

Remus: Sirius, to break up you'd have to l—... we'd have to be dating and we-we were never together.

Sirius (frowning): Excuse me?

Remus: Maybe it's a side effect from Azkaban? Somehow you fucking knew I was in love with you, and that knowledge—long exposure to dementors—got your head messed up, made false memories. Fuck, we have to get you checked—

Sirius: What do you—my head is perfectly fine thank you!

Remus: Then explain why you think we were dating???

Sirius: Because we were!?

Remus: Since when???

Sirius: Since seventh year! After winter break!

Remus: How. Explain to me how we started dating.

Sirius: I noticed how you were absolutely gone for me—

Remus (horrified): Wait so you've known since—

Sirius: Since then? Yes. Then I slowly realized I actually felt the same way (Remus stops breathing) so obviously I—

Sirius:

Remus:

Remus: so obviously you?

Sirius (unsure): ...so I—well, I definitely asked you out...

Remus: 'definitely'—?! No you fucking didn't! I don't remember this! You never—!

Sirius: I did! I'm sure I did! I just-I don't remember right now but it happened! Azkaban—

Remus: Don't pull the Azkaban card! You haven't touched a book since then and you still remember magical theory from fifth year!

Sirius: Alright, so I never asked you out but how could you think we weren't dating?!

Remus: Because we never fucking established that???

Sirius: We moved in together! Since when do two friendly blokes just live together??

Remus: We had separate rooms!

Sirius: I thought you wanted space!

Remus: What?! You mean we could've—?! Wait no, we never even acted like a couple! How was I supposed to—?!

Sirius: We always went on dates! We celebrated Valentine's day, boyfriend's day, and new year's together!

Remus: I thought we were just going out! We were always single so obviously we'd celebrate together!

Sirius: I've always said I love you! And you always said you love me back!

Remus (flushing): We meant it differently! ...Well, I was supposed to mean it differently, you were supposed to love me like a friend!

Sirius: How I loved you was never like a friend! Maybe in the beginning but not now or ever!

Remus (flustered): oh my god, you—dont say that—!

Sirius: What?! It's true!

Remus: *sighing* ...We-We never kissed.

Sirius: I vividly remember trying to kiss you after graduation but you kept dodging my attempts.

Remus (slack jawed): What?!

Sirius: Then I tried seducing you—walking around shirtless, inviting you into the showers, so you'd—oh I don't know, attack me?

Remus: That's what that was??!

Sirius: But you shot me down every time. I knew you were still besotted with me so I guessed—I thought you just didn't like that stuff.

Remus: I like that stuff!

Sirius: Last I checked—

Remus: Sirius, please, if you don't let me kiss you right now, I will literally die on this spot.

Sirius (smirking): let you? I'm the last thing to stop y—

Sirius did not get the last word out for obvious reasons.

#“this whole time...i couldve had sirius black on my bed”#“yes lol you really could have”#sirius black #remus lupin #dead gay wizards #marauders #marauders era #wolfstar #remus x sirius #sirius x remus

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felibrary · 9 months ago

Text

cellphone love story — osamu dazai

*+ﾟsynopsis: recently, someone's been spam calling you to the point that you’re fed and pick up the phone, only to be greeted with someone by the name dazai who has been continuously trying to reach his dead friend. the calls however don't end here, rather, your (call) history with dazai starts to extend - slowly but surely forming a bond over time; the phone.

pairing: dazai x reader (gn) |wordcount: 2.5k (this was my personal hell) | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of odasaku and very very very small mention of chuuya, more than friends less than lovers at the end (can also be interpreted as lovers, but that's just what i had in mind yall), brief mentions of drinking, light angst if you squint, not proofread its 5 am yall…. ; oneshot

a/n: sorry that i havent posted anything in the past few days (eight days to be exact i think..) i hope this will somehow make it up :,)

you can't keep count anymore.

this is the third - no, maybe fourth time today the unknown number has called you. at some point they have to realize that they’ve gotten the wrong number, right?

it all started about one and a half weeks ago when you changed your phone number and received a new one. ever since that day someone has been continuously trying to call you. unfamiliar digits lit up on your screen as you were out with your friend, you ignored them, after all who were you to accept a call from an unknown number?

but, over the course of the evening the calls didn't stop, eerie and annoying ringtone constantly piercing through your ears until the calls took a halt at midnight. relief washing over you.

to your mishap the calls didn't stop there. sometimes they’d wake you up from a peaceful slumber, groggily pinching and rubbing your eyes before swiping the call away. other times your phone would ring at a work meeting where you had to awkwardly excuse yourself and turn off your phone.

admittedly, you're at fault for not blocking the number. all of your friends suggested that you should, reasoning it with the fact that the caller probably has some dirty schemes and motives and that you should just try and not get in touch with weird people like them.

which brings you to your current predicament, sitting on the couch with your favorite show playing in the background as you text a friend, until a certain but familiar series of digits show up on your phone screen. do they never know when to stop?

your fingers hover over the decline button and then over to the accept button, debating and contemplating if you should decline the call but you don’t. the pads of your fingers press down on the accept button and you wait.

you’re greeted with silence, what the hell? your patience runs thin, streaming like arid sand grains through an hourglass until they meet the bottom and gather there together with the others. it's been like thirty seconds into the call now, at this point they should've probably said something, at least a quiet hello. an exasperated sigh leaves your mouth and you begin “seriously? you’ve been calling me for the past week now and suddenly i pick up your calls you don’t say shit?” you complain.

“goodbye odasaku.” a sigh leaves the strangers mouth, a man you notice. “i suppose this is my sign to stop grieving and mourning over you.” his voice slightly quivers and the male chuckles sorrowfully. you can’t distinguish if it’s melancholy or relief that lace the bitter words.

you’re left with confusion, so many unanswered questions lie at the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare to utter a word. “apologies.” he speaks up once again, this time with a steadier voice. “you’re probably confused, my name is osamu dazai.” he politely introduces himself. even though you’re unable to see him and can’t see him nor his expression, your intuition tells you that he’s slightly grinning, that a ghost of a smile graces his lips, although a rather sad one.

“this phone number belonged to an old friend of mine.” dazai respires. a shaky “odasaku?” you whisper and let out a breath you yourself didn’t know you held in. “yeah, sakunosuke oda.” he hummed smilingly. “he’s gone.” dead, dazai wants to add but he refrains.

“his voicemail always played when i dialed his number and called.” he whispered. “it was pleasant to hear his voice, knowing that there are still fragments of odasaku out there. he understood me like no other, i miss him.” dazai meekly confessed in a hushed tone. “but those days are over, i suppose it’s for the better.” the male on the other line sighed.

an umpteen amount of words prickle on your tongue, they itch to be released and said, you wanted to say something - anything. but before you’re able to properly gather your words and form a sentence, dazai cuts you off.

“please excuse my intrusions in the past week. have a good rest.” a shrilling sound echoing through your living room symbolizes the end of the call and you’re left dumbfounded.

strident noises awake you from your sleep. you toss and turn in your sheets as you mindlessly try to find your phone, rolling over to lay on your side as you find it and tightly clutching it, gripping your phone as you’re greeted with a bright screen and a row of digits. dazais number, you realize.

no, you didn't save his number nor did you memorize in which order the digits were aligned but his phone number's unfamiliar digits have become quite familiar now. you check the time: 0.52 a.m. what was dazai doing at such time and why was he calling you out of all people? especially after he hung up on you a month ago.

“hello?” you groggily yawn. “ah.” a female voice on the other line yelps, she sounds relieved. “are you odasaku by any chance? could you pick up mr. dazai please?” the woman asks in a demure manner. “what’s the situation?” you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake. “well, mr. dazai is intoxicated - he’s drunk and is currently slumped over the counter.” she whispers into the phone.

“if that doesn’t bother you of course, i can also call someone else!” she hurriedly says. you're slipping out of your sheets to get out of your bed and move towards your hallway, loosely throwing over a thin jacket and checking its pocket if your car keys are in there. “it’s fine, can you tell me the location?” you tiredly ask. “yes of course. it’s bar lupin.” she replies. you check your phone and step outside your door moving towards your car “got it, i’ll be there in 20 minutes or so.” with that you end the call, get inside your car and put your hands on the steering wheel.

carefully you take a step inside the narrow bar, taking off your hood and immediately spotting dazai whose head was currently laying on the surface of the front bar. he was poking at his glass of whiskey, the ball of ice being almost fully melted. “dazai.” you call out. he turns around, hazel eyes meeting yours.

only then can you admire dazai for the first time. his dark brown is tousled and unkempt but it continues to gleam in the orange light. his arms are wrapped in bandages and there's a long beige, almost khaki, coat draped over his body. you can’t help but think that he’s kind of pretty.

“what are you doing here?” dazai asks in a fatigued tone. you show him your car keys and wag them in the air “here to pick you up.” you reply nonchalantly. “why?” his question is barely above a whisper.

why are you helping him? he doesn’t understand - he wishes to understand. the first impression you’ve received from dazai was when he was calling you non stop and now your second impression is him slumped over bar lupins front bar. dazai can’t tell if you’re just naive or really trying to be helpful out of politeness or rather out of kindness.

a certain kindness he’s only ever received from odasaku. helping someone like him out of kindness with no hidden intentions, offering a helping hand, smiling with utmost fondness.

“as if im leaving a somewhat nice drunkard alone. i’m not inhumane.” even though your answers are full of nonchalance, dazai can make out a certain sincerity that lies in your words.

his eyes can only follow as you tilt your head towards the door. “let's get you back home.” you gently smile.

dazai wakes up to the sound of birds chirping and sizzling oil. he’s warm, a soft blanket covering his body only then dazai realizes that this isn’t his bed, that he’s not lying in his futon. he looks around before his gaze lands on the bedside table which had a glass of water atop it, marked with a little sticky note that said “drink this, you’ll feel much better and come find me in the kitchen :)”

he can’t recall everything that happened yesterday, it all went past him like a blur the only thing he remembered was that you came to pick him up. dazai grabbed the glass and gulped it down in one go, some of its content seeping down his chin and wiping it away with his sleeve before sliding out of the bed with the glass in his hand to return it to you.

finding your kitchen wasn’t hard, it was located right next to the dining room where a variety of dishes were placed on the dining table. dazai enters the kitchen, without you noticing and sees you whisking up two eggs with a pair of chopsticks before speaking up “here.” dazai coughs and places the glass on the counter near the sink to express his gratitude.

“oh, it’s no problem.” you shoot him a small smile. your hand reaches over to the salt and pepper to season the eggs with before carefully putting the egg mixture into the hot greased pan. admittedly dazai feels a bit out of place - useless (when was he ever not) so he offers to wash your dishes which you happily agreed to.

besides the sound of sizzling fat and water running down the faucet, it's quiet in your kitchen. “how’d she know whom to call?” you’re the first to speak up, eyes still concentrated on frying the eggs as you hum a small melody.

“the bartendress?” dazai asks in response.

“yeah.”

“well, odasaku’s number, which is your number now, is one of my emergency contacts, i suppose she just called you first.” dazai shrugs his shoulders, his hands still focused on rubbing away the dirty spots on your plates.

“i see.”

“if the old man, my favourite bartender by the way." dazai winks. "if he would’ve been here he would’ve called slug.” dazai lets out a small laugh, probably the most sincere laugh he let out in the past few weeks.

“slug” you ask, soft voice laced with confusion.

“an old friend of mine.” dazai smiles sadly. “odasaku and him are both my emergency contacts.” he chuckles.

dazai doesn’t talk about the topic much further and neither do you, assuming it’s a sensitive topic for him. “i’m done, how about you?” you look over to dazai who’s currently washing his hands off with lavender soap. “mhm, me too.” he hums in agreement at which you can smile at.

dazais eyes trail after you as you leave the kitchen and move to the dining room, setting down all the plates and pouring two glasses of water. “sit down and eat up.” your eyes sway from his eyes over to the chairs. only then does dazai notice that his beige coat is neatly folded on one of your dining chairs. it makes his heart jump lightly.

he sits down and takes a sip out of his glass, waiting until you start to eat first before he gets to. he smiles contently as you happily chew on your food. “does it taste good?” he cringes at himself when he realizes just how awkward that question is, he feels like a teenager again that was always wary of what people thought of him.

“it tastes amazing! wanna try?” you slide the plate over to dazai, offering him to take a piece. “sure.” he agrees before taking a small bite. you weren’t lying when you said that it tasted amazing. “you're right, it tastes so good.” dazai says ecstatically. “told you so! my cooking is not to be underestimated.” you laugh and dazai can’t help but laugh too which makes him cough uncontrollably, putting a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out anything on your table cloth but continuing to laugh.

“oh god dazai, are you okay?” you rush over to his aid and put your hand over his back to slide over it, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe his coughing. dazai manages to muffle out a “i’m fine, really.” between his coughs and laughs which you can only sigh at but can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face and plasters itself on your lips.

calls with dazai have become more frequent now, although he sometimes still remains a mystery to you, it feels like he’s grown quite comfortable around you.

he told you more about himself (vice versa), talks about his work at the armed detective agency and sends you recipes the both of you could recreate. not only calls with him became more frequent but also visits.

at least four out of seven times a week dazai rushes to your place after work (you should probably call it your shared home now due to dazai leaving his stuff at your place like scattered objects on the floor).

for example, today: dazai walks into your kitchen like he owns the place. he sets down his belongings onto your couch before stepping towards the kitchen where he already finds you chopping the vegetables for the curry.

he notices that you’re on the verge of tearing up as you continuously chop the onions into small bits and grabs a tissue before sneaking up behind you and scaring you. “boo.” his mouth forms a little “o” and you slightly jump before setting the knife down and putting your hand over your heart. “you scared me!” you complain even though dazai can see the playful glint in your eyes.

“sorry, sorry.” he laughs before wiping away the small droplets of tears that managed to escape your eyes.

his calloused hands brush over your soft skin, it’s intimate - romantic even. you softly sigh against the tissue, the object that separates the two of you. the action makes your face lightly heat up and you’re sure that dazai noticed it too from the way he’s smirking.

“aw, was i able to fluster you?” he coos at you smilingly, which in response you can only huff at, eyeing him with a look that says “you already know the answer.” before turning around to continue where you left off.

in the meantime dazai pulls out another cutting board and starts to chop the carrots. it’s quiet, it’s always quiet when the two of you cook together, but neither you nor dazai mind. the smell of aromatics that nip and continue to linger in the air and the sound of your jazz playlist which sometimes gets outplayed by the sounds of cutting or frying food, are more than enough. it’s just like the first time the two of you shared this space together, a certain nostalgia suddenly washing over him.

“thank you” he whispers, barely loud enough to not get overplayed by the music playing in the background.

“for what?” you ask, longing for an answer.

for the times you’ve picked me up at bar lupin, for the times you’ve cooked me warm meals, for the times when you took care of me.

“for everything.”

this is dedicated to my odasaku person @azullumi (don't die pls i need u and ur fics HHDDISISISIS). you've always told me that you liked odasaku a lot and that some day you also want to open up an orphanage which i find really endearing. what i mean by "you're my odasaku person" is not "wow we're literally so odasaku and dazai coded" but no rather it's because you also play such a major role in my life (not just cause of the age gap between oda and dazai and u and me..). you're always there when i need you, you're always there when i needed you and i hope that you'll always be there when i need you. but the same thing goes vice versa; goes for me. azul you're someone whom i've randomly met and if i never made that one comment or sent that one ask or if you never sent that one dm i would've never written this. you're someone who reassures me and soothes my worries with simple words, when i'm feeling down you're the person i turn to because you're the only person who really understands and somehow relates and thus i'm always able to trust and follow your judgement and advice. i never feel judged or belittled by you or treated as someone whose only an immature kid, no you treat me as a normal person, like a friend. which makes me feel seen - acknowledged even. to be loved is to be seen. i could go hours when it comes about talking to you and what impact you have on my life, but i suppose that's for another end note dsjsdsuusus. you're so dear to me. i love you a lot azul <3

#felis staple of books ⋆·˚ ༘ *#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu

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queers-gambit · 11 months ago

Text

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

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demonslayerunhinged · 5 months ago

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Unhinged theory

Sanemi and Giyuu are exes (Part 2)

Ok so this part is just spoilers galore but if you don't mind then ok. Here's part one.

The second beginning

During the final battle after they have both unlocked their demon slayer marks. They are more open with each other, Sanemi has learned to trust others and Giyuu has learned to trust himself and Sanemi throwing the sword is awesome for him because it's Sanemi telling him that 'I trust you, don't let me down!' and Giyuu thinks 'Yes! I'll do my best!'. The previous training that they've done now comes into play because they know each other's moves and are able to fight together seamlessly!

The last shot of them eating Giyuu's favorite dish together not only calls back to Sanemi's offer, but I feel that it's also a way for Giyuu to begin opening up, like he's telling Sanemi 'This is me' and that he wants Sanemi back and wants to mend their relationship.

The side eye Sanemi's giving Giyuu is so funny because he seems wary. I can just imagine their conversation.

Sanemi: You'd better not fuck this up again, or I will leave your ass for good.

Giyuu (already playing the part of the whipped husband): Yes, dear.

Some proof

Like I said in the Part 1, I already talked about the romantic undertones in Giyuu's attempts to connect with Sanemi by his body language and expressions. It's obvious Giyuu wants him and now that Tanjiro has touched his heart a second time, he now has a stronger understanding of his emotions and what he wants.

Here, I'll list a bunch of tidbits that point to them having a previous relationship.

Giyuu and Tanjiro's discussion about Sanemi post coma-inducing punch should've stopped at theories as to what type of bean paste he likes, but they kept on talking about him. I don't think Giyuu would do that if he didn't know more stuff about Sanemi, maybe through their past interactions, his own observations or both.

Giyuu describes Sanemi as grumpy and hot-tempered in the Corps records, contrast this with his thoughts on Obanai. He feels sad and doesn't know why our snek boy doesn't like him but with Sanemi the short description he gives is similar to one I would give about someone I'm familiar who has a major flaw that I can't ignore that makes it hard for me to connect with them.

How did Sanemi know where Giyuu's training grounds were? Even Tanjiro who has spent a considerable time with Giyuu still needed a map for directions. You might argue that Sanemi's crow probably told him where Giyuu's place is, but neither of their crows are present during the entire scene. So Sanemi has to have known where, which means he's probably been there before and has sparred with him in the past.

I've talked about how their fight was similar to a conversation than actual training, and the way that they're able to perfectly counter and dodge each other's moves tells me that this isn't their first time sparring. There's also Sanemi's demeanor during the fight, in his training with Obanai and Muichiro, he was serious but with Giyuu he's...smiling? He was enjoying himself, even his taunts to Giyuu had a playful edge to it. It's like he's happy to be sparring with an old friend.

Giyuu's lack of reaction when Sanemi suggests that they beat each other up. He doesn't seem threatened, it's like he knows that Sanemi isn't actually going to hurt him and based on Sanemi's annoyance at Tanjiro coming between them, there's a small chance that Sanemi might have been joking and Giyuu knew it. It wasn't as big of a deal as Tanjiro made it out to be.

In Conclusion, Sanemi and Giyuu probably have history, which is why the vibes between them feel like they're an old, married couple.

*Yes, I am crazy and yes, this is an ADHD, 4 hours of sleep, caffeine-induced breakdown. Their relationship is my current hyperfixation, and I'm going to make it everyone's problem 🙂. It's all Ufotable's fault.

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toon-tales · 7 months ago

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Hiya! Ok, so, this will be a continuation to this post! We'll be analyzing Broppy throughout Twt!

Let's begin!

Now, everything has changed. Poppy's the queen, and Branch... well, you know, found his true colors

Here's the thing, Branch is now much nicer to Poppy, unlike how he was in the first movie. He admires her, just like he used to do, but difference is, he's admiring her also in front of everyone, like, not literally admiring but you get it

Moving on to the part where Branch tries to confess his love to Poppy

Branch was about to say something really important to him, like, super duper important, and Poppy? She wasn't paying attention to him! Like, yeah, she would look at him but her mind was somewhere else, which, takes a point from her

"Being a good queen is the most important thing in the world to me, other than being your friend!"

I like that she included their friendship (much to Branch's dismay), because it shows that she did notice Branch's hurt expression, which gives her the point back

Seconds later, the high-five failed, miserably, if I may say, and what I really disliked is how Poppy was chill about it! She literally said, "For some reason we don't seem to make a good connection!" with that smile. But I'm sure this issue will be discussed later

Takes a deep breath

Anyway, let's skip to the scene of the strings, because I love love LOVE the difference between Branch's and Poppy's characters

"It's when all the trolls lived in harmony, and what's more important than living in harmony?"

"Well, I heard fighting. The strings together leads to fighting."

They're both right, again. Like I said in part 1, they both look at things from different perspectives yet they're both right.

The strings together did mean one big party, before it eventually led to the fighting

This is exactly like the scene when Poppy decided to go to Barb. Branch knew he couldn't leave her alone, and Poppy, in return, knew she didn't want to do this by herself

Let's move on to this scene:

You can clearly see that one of the focuses of the movie is that Poppy never listened to anyone but herself, and it shows. Even Branch didn't like it, you can see it in his face

But does Poppy take all the blame? Nope, I don't think so. Why? Look. True, she didn't hear anyone, but has anyone actually talked?

When they went to jail, all Branch did was comfort her. Yeah, she needed comfort because of what has just been said to her, but Branch could've approached the matter gently. But we don't know if he would've said that, because Biggie interrupted them

Later, when Hickory showed up, Poppy literally put too much trust into him, and Branch tried to tell her, but he didn't press the matter, which wasn't right of him. He should've expressed his feelings more, but they were about to get caught, so we don't really blame either of them

Now later, in this scene:

You can see that Poppy actually seemed to think about what Branch just told her. Maybe she just needed someone to say something. And I really want to know what would've happened if Chaz didn't interrupt them

And even more later, you can see how sad Branch is that Biggie said the truth to Poppy. And even more sad, and overthinking, when Hickory pointed out that Poppy doesn't listen

Until boy finally let it out

"But you never listened to me." All he wanted was her to listen to him! Like, bro!

"What do you mean?" And I think she was actually trying to at this point

Now, what i really love is how both of them seemed troubled by their own words

Unlike the usual fights, where (not all, just to be clear) people just want to bring each other down and prove they're right. They were genuinely upset, and accidentally let it out on each other

But I also want to point out how Poppy was when Branch left, cause, girl literally looked like she was about to cry. Her breathing was heavy too

And now, to 'Perfect for me'

Hear me out-

Now, there are two meanings for this sentence. It could mean that Branch is saying Poppy is the one, or it could mean that he's not enough for her. Imma go with the first suggestion for a reason: it would be 'too perfect for me', and I really think the lyrics goes better with the first one. Anyway, let me know what you guys think!

Now, here's the thing

Poppy wasn't listening to anyone other than herself or whoever agreed with her. She wanted to prove herself as a good queen, and it got them in trouble. She trusted a STRANGER. But to Branch? Oh, she was perfect

See, he loved her, flaws and all, and he was always there for her even if she got into a problem because of her recklessness. He was always there to catch her when she fell

And let's not forget that while Branch is now a gentleman, he was rude to Poppy for far too long. He crashed her invites in front of everyone, he didn't want to save the snack pack from the Bergens. But he had changed, and Poppy saw that. She saw his true colors, she saw him change for the better, even if he was still sarcastic and disagreed with her sometimes. He was perfect. She loved him, even before he got his true colors, as a friend at least

They both said words, hurtful words, yet each one thought of how perfect the other was for them

And I think more people need to understand that differences don't tear you apart

Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip, and hold it here:

Friendly reminder that they haven't talked, haven't made up, haven't literally anything since the fight, yet here Branch is, with a look of sheer panic on his face when he saw Poppy about to get hit. And here Poppy is, with this concerned look on her face and that desperate, "Branch," for her future boyfriend when he got hit instead

And now, to the confession scene:

Can you see how Branch looked at her? He looked proud, like, really proud

"And I love you, queen Poppy." He didn't say 'Poppy' like earlier. He said 'queen'. And I think that means that he now sees her as a true queen, after she had learned her lesson

Now can you see Poppy's eyes when Branch said that? She's happy, like, her eyes are literally wide with happiness. See the love in her eyes when she looks at him?!

Anywayyyyyy, that's it for Twt, hope you guys like it. As usual, feel free to add or comment on anything, and stay tuned for part 3!

Part one

Part three

#Trolls #Trolls world tour #Branch Trolls #Poppy Trolls #Broppy #Broppy analysis #Trolls analysis #Sorry about the way the pics are added #But i can't post more than ten

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yumeaoka-chan · 4 months ago

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Hunger Pains

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Ghoul! Hobie x Human! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Tokyo Ghoul au, Blood, Ghoulified Hobie, no physical description of reader, can be read as gender neutral reader, scared reader, badass Hobie (I'm really not good at writing fight scenes, ugh), cursing, death (not as bad as you think), lovesick reader, lovesick Hobie, hungry boi Hobie, "The lion falls in love with the lamb" basically

Summary: You go to visit Hobie after not hearing from him for weeks.

A/N: Credit for the lovely banners goes to @the-shroom-garden !!! Late entry for week 3 of Octobie, I'm sorry @the-kr8tor 😭🤚 I got sick outta nowhere, so I'm currently laying in bed as I post this😔 I was going to write a Baldur's Gate 3 au but, the angst potential of Tokyo Ghoul kept screaming at me😭🤚

Taking a deep breath, you knock softly on the door, the houseboat calmly rocking on the water.

“Hobie? Are you in there?” You call out, a frown forming on your lips as you notice no lights are on inside. It's eerily quiet, especially at this time of night. You knew you should've waited until the morning. Tears sting your eyes and you inhale shakily, trying to will the feeling away. Hobie has been distant lately, almost as if he was avoiding you. If you call, he doesn't pick up. When you went to his band practice, his bandmates claimed he wasn't there. And when you went to his favorite hiding spot, the rooftop of a small local music shop that overlooks the city, he was nowhere to be seen.

Just when things were going so well, you thought to yourself as you slowly made your way off of his boat. You and Hobie had been friends for what felt like forever, being together through most of Primary school and all throughout Secondary. Even now, while you are enrolled in college, you two are thick as thieves. Throughout the years, your fondness and admiration of him had slowly formed into adoration and, dare you say it, love. You were in love with him, had been in love with him for quite a while. And just when you had worked up the courage to tell him how you feel, he practically ghosts you.

Walking through the shortcut through the alleyway to get to your dorm, you don't notice the set of eyes watching you from the rooftops, too busy lamenting over Hobie and what you could have done to push him away. The late night streets are silent, not a single soul out due to the frigid cold of the winter breeze. Shivering, you pull your jacket tighter around your body, sniffling from the cold or tears, perhaps. As you trudge on, you suddenly hear something behind you. The faintest of footsteps, the most quiet of chuckles. The very sound makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps raising on your arms. Taking a steadying breath, you keep walking, albeit quicker than before. No good would come of acknowledging the sound, that much you knew.

The footsteps draw nearer still, making your heart begin to pound in your chest. Your pulse quickens, your breath hitches, and you suddenly forget to remain calm. Zipping and darting through the deserted streets of London, you try to lose your pursuer through the series of backstreets. Fear grips your chest as you hear the footsteps grow even closer, the chuckles now turned into cackles. How could you be so stupid? Walking around this late, knowing full well that they lurked in the shadows. You want to cry when you slam into a tall metal gate, hurriedly looking over your shoulder. That's when you see him. Tall and broad and practically frothing at the mouth, the long blue appendage coiled around his arm gleaming under the light of the moon. His grin is unhinged, eyes glowing red with pulsing veins surrounding them. When they meet your gaze, you can see the eagerness in them. It makes you let out a fearful cry as you scramble to climb over the gate.

A hand suddenly grips your foot, making you slip and cut your palm open on the sharp metal. You let out a hiss and you struggle to free your foot, fear clawing its way into your chest. The ghoul behind you inhales deeply, salivating at the scent of your blood oozing down your arm.

“Been so long since I had such a good looking meal. I'll savor you, little lambchop.” He cackles as he wrenches you away from the gate with one strong tug. You yelp as you fall down harshly onto the ground, your nose the first to collide onto the asphalt. Head swimming from the impact, you hardly register the crimson dripping from your nose, eyes blearily looking up at your captor with horror. And as he pried open his dripping maw, you could see your life flashing before your eyes. Every joyous moment, every harsh disappointment. And yet, no memory shined brighter than those that involved Hobie. You were going to die before ever getting to reveal your feelings to him. Lips wobbling and tears falling, you gazed at the face of your demise and whispered the one you wanted to see most.

“Hobie…” Just as quick as those words left your lips, the ghoul in front of you was viciously ripped away. Eyes wide with shock and disbelief at the sudden rescue, you blink up at the figure suddenly standing above you. His back was turned to you and sprouting from it were eight long, sharp, spider leg like tendrils. They were as red as the darkest of wines and glowed brightly, illuminating the alleyway. Squinting your eyes, you could see the faint outline of his head, the hair on his head making you gasp. Not just the hair, the clothes too. The leather jacket on his back and the boots that adorned him were all too familiar. Sitting up a bit, your lips tremble as you utter his name.

“I-Is that you… Hobie…?” Hearing his name on your lips is like a godsend everytime, but not this time. Not when you're shaking like a leaf from fear. Hobie grits his teeth as he turns to look down at you, hearing the sharp intake of breath you make when you see his eyes. One brown and one a glowing red, angry red veins surrounding it. He gives you a placating smile before turning his head back to glare at the ghoul that's now standing across from him. The taller man snarls, spit flying from his lips as his coiled appendage glows brighter.

“You filthy One-Eyed! That's my dinner! I called dibs!” Crouching low and spider-like appendages curling around his form, Hobie glares harshly at the other.

“Touch a hair on this one's head and I'll fuckin’ kill you”, he utters lowly, voice on the edge of a growl. The taller ghoul cackles and points his finger at Hobie, eyes wild and sharp with mania.

“That right? I'll just devour you before I feast on the lambchop's flesh then!” With a roaring shout, the crazed ghoul rushes at Hobie, his sharp coiled appendage aimed straight for his chest. Fury rumbles in his chest as Hobie dashes forward to meet him, his deadly appendages shooting forward to harshly stab the ghoul's shoulder. The broad man howls with pain before twisting his body free of them, arm moving to swipe at the other's chest. Wincing as he feels it slice through his shirt and graze his skin, Hobie uses his appendages to propel himself into the air, before viciously bringing them down onto the man's head.

The fight goes on for several minutes, your eyes darting to and fro as you try to spot Hobie in all the madness. They're both quick and every blow you see him take makes you grip your chest, scared that he'll die in this violent whirlwind. Your heart hammers in your ears and it feels like the bloody battle drones on for nearly an hour. There's dust as they kick up and crack the asphalt beneath their feet, making it impossible to see through. Stumbling on your feet, your ears pick up the sudden wail of pain that rings in the air. It's silent then, the dust slowly clearing.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly walk forward, stepping closer to where you can hear the sounds of harsh panting. Just as you step into the circle of dust, you see a glowing red eye staring back at you.

“Don't!” Hobie's booming command rings in your ear and your body seizes up almost automatically. As the dust finally starts to settle, you can see how he grips his right side, blood flowing through his fingers. His other hand is held out in your direction, palm facing you in a clear indication for you not to come any closer. Hobie's face is scrunched up in a painful grimace as he watches concern flit across your features. He adamantly shakes his head, feet slowly backing away from you.

“Don't”, he says, softer this time, like he can't mask the agony that colors his voice. “P-Please just… don't…” He can't take it, can't take how good you smell. How good your blood smells. Skin that he knows would be so soft beneath his fingers, so giving as his nails dig into your arm, leaving marks that would never fade as his lips descend onto your neck. Hobie closes his eyes as the very image seers inside of his brain. It's so vivid that he can almost taste it, taste the way your skin gives beneath his teeth as he gorges himself on the divine banquet that is your flesh.

“No, no, fuck, no…”, he mumbles to himself, hand that was held out to you now gripping his hair. He tugs on the coarse hair, biting his lip so hard that he breaks the skin. “Not Star… Not my Star…” Because how could he ever think to harm you, his Star, his light in this oppressed world? Just the fact that he even imagined tainting you, defiling your body with his disgusting, atrocious hunger… Tears slip down his cheeks as he feels the gaping blackhole in his stomach nag at him, begging him to feast on you, the one he loved most. Because what is love if not to consume and be consumed in return?

You weren't blind to his internal conflict, seeing the way he leered at you before stumbling back, farther away from you. Taking a step forward, you're careful to avoid stepping on the body of the dead ghoul in front of him. Hobie's head shoots up and it makes your heart ache, seeing the waterfall of tears cascading down his cheeks. He's shaking his head furiously as he stumbles back slowly and you steel your resolve, even as he yells and curses at you. Shouts of “No, stay back” and “I'll hurt you, please stay back” ring in your ears and with a heavy heart, you press on. Hobie's back is pressed against a brick wall by the time you come face to face with him, his lips trembling and long legs shaking slightly.

“Hobie”, you breathe out softly as you press a shaky hand against his cheek, making him shudder. “Hobes… Is this why you've been avoiding me…?” His face twists into a visibly pained scowl as he clenches his eyes shut. Taking a careful breath, he slowly nods his head. Fear releases its icy claws from your heart, leaving only tenderness and concern for the man before you. You wait patiently as he calms his frantic breathing, the appendages surrounding him slowly retreating into his back. When he looks at you again, you see his brown eyes glistening, the hunger still lurking beneath the depths of his lipid pools. You give him a small smile, acceptance shining in your soft gaze.

“Tell me everything. From the beginning, okay?” Is what you whisper to him. Hobie can't help but bask in the bright light, the shining beacon that is you. It's then and there that he's determined to find a way to put that sickening hunger to sleep for good, his love for you stronger than his beast.

“It's… a long story, love…”

#octobie #hobie brown x reader #octobie'24 #octobie wild card #hobie brown #hobie x reader #fanfic #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul au

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paceywittters · 28 days ago

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yes, i do think lucy has fault in their relationship breakdown - happy to talk about that elsewhere if you want

okay, so @to-the-east asked me to expand on this thought from my other post and while i know this is an unpopular opinion on a beloved character, i don’t mind talking about it (even if it’s become a really polarizing thing for the rookie fandom). the fact that lucy's flaws get looked over in favor of constant praise for her actions is kind of odd to me.

a note before you see how long this is: this is just my opinion about a tv show, i am allowed to have it just like you are allowed to have yours! if you don't agree with me that is ok i will be fine and so will you. please don't come at me for typing my little essays, if you've been here long enough u know i just like to yap.

also just to be clear: i think lucy's a great character. i think she's good at her job. she deserves happiness personally and professionally in whatever way that looks like for her. i also, however, recognize that as a three-dimensional character, lucy's flawed - and i like that she's flawed. i want the show to delve further into those flaws the way they do with basically every other character rather than pretending they're not there. me saying lucy has flaws is not an attack on her character. it is observation and analysis of the source material. that is all.

ok now you may proceed if you want lol

some chenford fans looked at the breakup in season six and saw tim’s issues, tim’s faults, tim’s lies, etc. as the root cause - and they were absolutely part of the cause, but there were bigger things at play than just what was happening in the moment. tim’s knee-jerk reaction to his deception/inability to see himself in his actions/breach of his moral code during 6x06 was to break up with lucy, because he didn’t know who he was. he couldn’t trust himself with himself, so he certainly couldn’t trust himself with her. we’ve all heard this a hundred times over, i’m sure, but it’s worth repeating because i actually think the breakup happening like this did a major disservice to the characters. while i wanted a breakup, after sitting with the way it’s played out, this breakup didn’t scratch the itch for me, so to speak.

throughout the end of season 5 and the beginning of season 6, tim and lucy both wind up facing a major shift in their lives. they decide to be together in 5x08/5x09, and this is where we begin to see the…lack of consequences, more or less, for lucy’s actions specifically.

just to reiterate, because i'm about to sound harsh: i want lucy to succeed, and i want her to grow. i am not trying to say lucy should have to face consequences for things while others shouldn’t - this isn’t meant to be a comparison to anyone else in the cast, but an analysis of what we’ve seen laid out in front of us.

throughout the show’s run, lucy’s had fairly good luck when it comes to not facing disciplinary action when she should’ve - but this goes absolutely batshit crazy in season 5 and 6. in the span of a season, lucy:

breaks up with her boyfriend of at least 6 months who has been expressing interest in living with her, giving little to no reason re: why (regardless of how you feel about chris, this should've have some kind of consequence or challenge attached)

begins dating her superior officer in secret without disclosing that information appropriately despite knowing she is supposed to legally (skirting around rules, ultimately without any consequence)

devises an inter-departmental swap with a group of colleagues in order to find a way to benefit her personal life without consulting tim, who this would directly impact (she does eventually face a professional consequence for this, but not a personal one)

expresses no remorse to tim when she gets caught and he is, rightfully, irritated (she quite literally says “sorry, not sorry”)

learns that someone within the inter-departmental swap is not happy that she’s manipulated a bunch of people for her personal gain and doesn’t seem to understand this is a problem (again, she will eventually face a consequence with this - but does not appear to understand why, which is the issue)

continuously appears to understand that her boyfriend, who has baggage surrounding undercover work, is struggling with her decisions but is trying to put on a brave face and doesn’t call him out for a lack of communication (to be clear, this part is very much also on tim - in moments even more so than lucy - but we’ll get to that later)

picks fights with her boyfriend for doing his job/treating her like his colleague when she has directly asked him to do so (i will not be engaging on the discourse surrounding tim's behavior in 6x01 other than to say that lucy asked him to behave like a TO and he did)

pushes her boyfriend again on his stance on undercover work when he’s openly trying to resolve his issues with it in order to keep their relationship stable (6x01/6x02 pre lie detector test is wild)

makes some deeply dangerous and mostly unnecessary calls that put her in extreme danger in order to make herself stand out because she doesn’t feel she’s getting enough recognition at work (lucy getting that dinged up radio as a trophy was sweet but we veer away from the fact that lucy quite literally chose to do something she didn't need to for kudos and could've died because of it - instead, we see her praised and applauded for her efforts without any ounce of "but you didn't have to do all that")

ignores the fact that she knows going into her detective’s exam that one of the proctors is not in favor of her, and then doesn’t anticipate the fact that it will impact her score/opportunities moving forward (again - this is a time where she does face a consequence, but does not anticipate it whatsoever, which i think is part of the problem)

and that’s just the big stuff. lucy consistently doesn’t face consequences for her actions - the detective’s exam thing is probably one of the few times i feel like i’ve seen her actually find herself in a pickle due to something she’s finagled. i love the fact that lucy can be crafty and creative, it’s one of the things i enjoy the most about her character…but a lot of the writing in the last season or so has felt less to me like she’s being crafty or creative, and more like she’s just skirting any legitimate consequences for her actions/ignoring any faults she’s shown as she’s moved through this phase of her career. even when she does have to face her decisions head-on, lucy often winds up trying to justify her behavior rather than admitting she was just...deeply over-achieving, or trying to do something to better her situation. she rarely sees a consequence coming, which is confusing when her character is clearly someone who can analyze situations for others.

with that being said, let’s get to this part: tim and lucy had problems before their breakup, and neither of them wanted to talk about them. think about the back half of season 5 - we see tim struggling with lucy’s uc work, lucy struggling to talk to tim about it or get him to own up to his feelings.

early on in season 6 we see them confront this a little, but it comes to no resolution whatsoever - and while it’s tim’s problem with lucy’s uc work, lucy chooses to act like that’s the only problem in their relationship. in 6x02, tim’s discomfort with uc work is treated like it’s their biggest issue when we as viewers know that there have been multiple times lucy’s just straight up lied to/withheld information from tim, either because she doesn’t think he needs to know or doesn’t want him to be in the know. lucy’s long-preached having great communication skills/knowing that open honest communication (5x18) is the key to her relationship with tim…but she doesn’t actually practice it.

lucy, unfortunately, is a bad communicator who thinks she’s a lot better at sharing her own feelings than she is. lucy is good at facilitating communication for others - it's a major skill of hers - but she's far less in touch with her own self, and we've seen that many times through the course of the show.

seeing her refuse to acknowledge her faults to tim, who she’s supposed to be sharing herself with fully, is a struggle throughout the beginning of season 6 - and so the tension was brewing for chenford when tim’s whole past-life-army-drama came into play.

now, here’s the thing: tim also has some serious baggage that he brings into this relationship (and just being real, in your 30s/beyond who is not bringing baggage into a relationship? i would be offended if they didn’t) and he has his own level of fault. the direct cause of their breakup in 6x06 is a tim thing. he’s not communicative, he’s a people pleaser (this is what i meant when i said we’d get into that later - tim’s people pleasing tendencies, esp in interpersonal relationships, are huge, to the point that he needed to be hooked up to a lie detector to even really grasp that he had issues with lucy going uc. that man gaslights himself into thinking things sometimes, and he’s always going to try to be amenable to the people he loves because he doesn’t want to lose them - which is a big flaw and a big reason why he broke up with lucy, but i digress), and he’s the kind of bitch that self-sabotages. things got difficult and he fucked up and he took himself out of the equation because leaving is easier than getting left - which, honestly, is probably a new feeling for tim.

but. this is about lucy, and the fault she has in the breakdown of their relationship. to be clear: they share fault. they are very much both at fault for the breakdown of their relationship (again - the direct break up was tim’s call, but we’re talking about what led to that), and i don’t think either of them grasps it just yet.

lucy has become used to getting her way more often than not (not all the time, obv, but enough) and if she doesn’t get her way directly, she can usually find a path into what she wants without much consequence. she doesn’t speak directly about her feelings or find herself probing for the feelings of others in tough situations where she’s directly involved. it's a strange dichotomy for lucy, who comes from such a psychology heavy background - and i often think it's one of the most interesting parts of her character, but the way she's been written in the last season and a half has really brought to light how misused it feels as a trait when she doesn’t see it.

so, tl;dr: lucy has flaws in her communication style and often finds herself lucky enough not to face the consequences of her actions, so when they do crop up at times, she's gutted by them. her chronic over-achieving has become her fatal flaw, as she's often trying to overdo things to make herself look good, rather than taking a step back to actually consider situations. while we can see these things on screen, they’re not addressed by the show which can be frustrating.

these qualities of lucy’s wrapped up in a bow make for her own set of issues that lent directly to the slew of issues that simmered into a boil of a breakup for chenford. while i don't think lucy was the whole problem by any means, i'm also not going to put that fully on tim. i want lucy to be able to grow and change and receive recognition for her work in a meaningful way, but without actually focusing on her flaws and acknowledging them, i don't really see how the rookie can do that in a way that serves the character.

ok don't hate me bye

#chenford #the rookie #tim x lucy #again i am going to say first and foremost sorry this is literally an essay #second please do not bother engaging if you are just here to fight with me bc i have caveated the fuck out of this #these are my opinions and you do not have to agree with or like them #no one who works on the rookie or is associated with the show will ever read this so it really is not anything you need to worry about #also i love lucy chen and i want her to be the three dimensional character she deserves to be and that is why i have written this diatribe #disregard what time i am posting this lol #anyway. sorry! bye!

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