#i gotta clean his up so i can make it my icon...

[flowerakatsuka]

Osomatsu-san Botania armabianca (2024)

[0097linersb]

Sour Candy (m)

Pairings: Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5k~

Warnings: Very very very needy Mingi, wouldn't say exactly sub!mingi but kind of sub!mingi u know, good boi´s just very desperate. consent lines are kind of blurred in this one so pls skip if it makes u uncomfortable, this was just written in like an hour with absolutely no thoughts or grammar-checking, head empty only filled with crying whiny men <3

Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3

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“What time did Yunho say he was coming back again?” You asked for about the fourth time that afternoon. 

“In like an hour or two,” Mingi answered patiently like he did all the other times you asked before. “Bro, why do you hate me?” 

“Because you keep making me play this boring game and it really fucking sucks.” 

“That´s just because you´re bad at it.” 

“You´re literally worse than me.” 

“Maybe modernity was wrong all along, maybe women really shouldn´t be allowed to have opinions.” 

“It is a fact, not an opinion. Maybe you men should still be in planes being shipped off to war and leave us alone.” 

“Fine. Do you want to play something else, princess?” 

“Let´s play Overcooked,” You squealed.  

Mingi didn´t even groan this time when you mentioned the game you and Seonghwa were obsessing over lately, simply going back to the home screen on Yunho´s Playstation and looking for the colorful icon. He knew there was no arguing with you. 

While the game was loading, Mingi handed you the main controller and stood up, fixing his shirt that had scrunched up and stretching his back, “Set everything up, I´m gonna go find some snacks.” 

You happily did as told, driving your little animated truck towards the level you had last failed at and playing with your phone to wait for your friend, at least until your vision was blocked by said friend pushing a red plastic bag in front of your face. 

“What´s that?” You asked, already reaching into the bag and picking up one of the soft candies inside. 

Mingi simply shrugged, already chewing on one of the jellies, “Dunno, found them in the kitchen. They´re pretty good though.” 

You trusted his words, popping the candy into your mouth and waiting for the flavors to kick in - and hell you wish you didn´t. 

“Oh my god this is disgusting,” Your face contorts in distaste. 

“It´s cinnamon,” Mingi stares you down, clearly not amused.  

“Yeah, with candle wax. Ew.” 

“Just swallow it and stop being a baby.” 

“I will literally kill myself.” 

He gave you another judgmental glare and sat down next to you on the couch once again, already reaching for his third candy from hell as you forced yourself to let it slide down your throat. You handed him the main remote and picked up the secondary one, coughing to see if flowing some air into your lungs would get the taste of rotten papaya out of your mouth.  

“Maybe it´s poison that Yunho left out as a trap because you keep stealing his food.” 

“Nah, it was right on top of the counter,” He waved it off, pressing play on the game. 

“My point stands.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“You´re very eloquent today.” 

“You´re very annoying today.” 

“The salmon Mingi, the fucking salmon!!” 

“I´m getting it!” 

“Bro, you gotta throw it!” 

“Fuck. I know, but if I leave the fucking rice is going to burn.” 

“I´m throwing you more rice.” 

“I don´t need it.” 

“Yes, you do. Oh my god.” 

“What I do need are some clean plates.” 

“Oh, yeah. On it.” 

“Why do you like this game?” He groaned, cleaning the sweat from his forehead and reaching for another candy in the bag. “You´re making me stress eat.” 

“Doesn´t it make you feel pumped?”  

“Yeah, pumped to punch the TV.” 

“We have one more minute, we can do it if you stop being dumb.” 

“There are literally two plates on the counter ready to go and you haven´t delivered them yet.” 

“Jeez, done. Can you slice me some tomatoes?” 

“One sec,” He answered, mouth full of yet another candy. 

“It would be faster if you would just stop eating.” 

“We´re not making it anyways, let me enjoy one thing at least.” 

And he was right: a few seconds later the TV screen was filled with the sad numbers displaying how you didn´t reach the minimum score - didn´t even come close to it in fact. 

Mingi let out his frustrations by popping the nth white jelly past his lips and you stared at him in disgust, reaching for the bag to understand what that malevolent creation even was.  

“Huh...” 

“What?” He asked. 

“Hm, I mean, this is all in German or Dutch but I´m pretty sure this word means aphrodisiac.” 

“Come again?” His mouth was hanging open mid chew, unblinking eyes staring at you. 

“Hm, yeah. Wasn´t Yunho´s friend just in Amsterdam? The one with the big smile? Maybe he brought those as a souvenir, since you know, it´s Amsterdam. Like, ‘haha look at this candy that makes you horny´.” 

“Oh, yeah. But it´s like a placebo touristy thing, right?” He laughed nervously. “Like, these won´t actually make me horny, right?” 

“Nah, I don´t think this kind of stuff works. It´s probably just for shit and giggles. Do you feel any different?” 

“I don´t know, my heart is beating faster. I think I´m going to die.” 

“Mingi, relax. Now it´s probably just because you´re nervous.” 

“No, what if there´s some kind of drug in these? I ate almost 10 of them! Oh my god I´m going to die. Am I going to overdose, Y/N? What if I start hallucinating?” 

He was being a bit overdramatic, but he did have genuine concerns. 

“Wait, let me call Yunho.” 

Mingi didn´t even hear you, too busy at his own pity party as he whined and stared at the bag´s labels like he could suddenly speak Dutch.  

“Y/N?” Yunho´s voice filled your ears. 

“Hm, hi. Sorry to bother you at work but we´ve kind of got a situation.” 

“Oh my god, did Mingi break my door playing with the bar? I already told him-” 

“No, nothing like that. Huh, do you know that candy that you left on the kitchen counter?” 

“What? No. What cand- Oh. Oh.” 

“Huh, yeah. So... Mingi found it and ate like 10 of them?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Is that bad? He´s kind of freaking out, he´s afraid there´s like drugs in them or something.” 

“There are some stimulants in them but like, in minor quantities. He won´t die because of it. But bro, bro.” 

“What?” You whined, Yunho´s tone making you anxious. 

“He had 10 of them? San had like 3 and said he was at it for hours.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“So I guess these do work, huh?” 

“Haven´t tried them, but from what San says it´s some strong shit. Did you take any?” 

“Just like one, tastes like organic trash.” 

“Yeah, good. Let me know how it goes, please just stay out of my bedroom.” 

“Your bedroom? Why would- What are you trying to imply, Jeong Yunho?” 

“Oh shit, client calling. Byeee,” He laughed. “Stupid.” 

As soon as you put your phone away, Mingi stopped talking to himself like a mad man and stared at you with big hopeful eyes. 

“I have good news and bad news.” 

“Am I going to die?” 

“That´s the good news: no, you´re not. No.” 

“And what are the bad news?” 

“Apparently you will get very horny, though.” 

He froze at your words, looking down at his pants, “I don´t feel it, though.” 

“Maybe you won´t, it might be different for everyone,” You shrug, standing up and grabbing your sweater. “All I know is that I am leaving because if it does happen, that´s not a sight I want to be here for.” 

“Please no,” Mingi whined, literally throwing himself on his knees to catch your arm before you could walk away. “Don´t leave me alone here. I just ingested unknown substances, what if my body reacts badly and I actually die? What if I throw up and drown in my own puke here all alone?” 

Once again, over-dramatic but right.  

“Yeah, you´re right,” You sighed. “I would still rather die than see you with a boner so here´s what we´re gonna do: I´m locking myself in Yunho´s room and you can freely roam the apartment and do whatever you want, I´ll check up on you every few minutes. Sounds good?” 

“Yeah, ok,” Mingi agreed. 

“Also, if you´re going to like - ” You motioned vaguely towards his pants hoping he would get what you were trying to say. “Give me a heads up so I can put on some earphones.” 

“Oh my god,” He whined in shame, cheeks going flush. “Yeah, ok.” 

“Ok, good. Huh, bye,” You awkwardly waved as you made your way towards Yunho´s room. “Good luck.” 

You closed the door behind you, hearing as Mingi opened some other game back in the living room. There was not much to do in Yunho´s room so you decided to lay in bed and scroll through Tiktok until Mingi stopped thinking he was going to die and you could leave. Also, you did eat one of the candies too, so you guessed that if they did work, you would feel it as well. 

10 minutes later you still heard Mingi normally playing and cursing outside, but you still decided to yell out an “Everything good?” just to be sure. 

“Yeah!” Was his answer. 

Another 15 minutes went by, and you shot him a text. 

Not dead yet? 

Mings: Still good, I don´t think these things actually work. 

Maybe Yunho was just messing with us.  

Mings: Yeah, fucking asshole. 

You went back to watching your silly little videos, not even noticing the time passing or how everything suddenly went quiet outside. Over half an hour had gone by when your ears finally perked up at the lack of your friend´s loudness.  

You sat up in bed worried. 

You good? 

No answer. 

Mingi? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You were already picturing his dead body looking all stupid on Yunho´s carpet, thinking about how you were going to explain to the paramedics that he died because he ate too much horny candy.  

No, even worse: How would you explain this to his family? 

Oh, no. Not your best friend. How would you live without him? You liked teasing him and you bickered a lot but you love- 

Your little spiral of insanity was interrupted by a knock on the door and your body was finally able to move after how it had been paralyzed with fear for a few minutes. 

“Mingi?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, thank god. You scared the shit out of me,” You took a deep breath in relief, staring at Yunho´s white door. “What´s up?” 

“Huh, can I come in?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone.  

Something sounded weird about this.  

“Sure,” You answered skeptically.  

Mingi opened the door and came in, head cast down and gaze not meeting your eyes. 

“What´s wrong-” You started asking worriedly, about to jump out of the bed to go check up on him before your eyes finally zeroed in on the very prominent bulge in his pants. “Song Mingi! What the fuck?” 

“I- I don´t know what to do,” His eyes finally met yours, cheeks tinted in pink and hands trembling. He looked at you like a kicked puppy.  

“And what do I have to do with it? Go deal with it yourself. Eeew, we talked about this,” You raised your hand in the air to try and block the bottom half of Mingi from your line of vision.  

“I already did,” He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Twice.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Nothing fucking works - and also, I just can´t stop thinking about you.” 

“What?” You never heard your voice go so high before. “Nuh uh, we´re not going there. Absolutely not.” 

“I´m not happy about it either, ok?” His fingers were squeezing the corner of the door so thigh they were almost white. “Just please, help me out this once. Please.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You just prayed that the reason you started clenching around nothing was because the candy was finally kicking in and not because stupid Song Mingi was practically begging in front of you. 

“No!” You screeched, weirded out by your own sudden reaction. “This isn´t you talking, it´s just th stupid candy, you´ll regret it after it wears off -” 

“No but I won´t,” He disagreed, closing the door and rushing towards you like a madman in three large strides. 

You had never seen him like this, you never once in a million years could have gone as far as even imagining the look in his eyes right now. 

“Fuck. It´s just - your skin is so soft, you know?” Mingi pushed the covers to the side so his hand could squeeze your thigh, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawled on top of you. You were too shocked to move away, frozen in place with your mouth open wide, not really knowing what to do as he rubbed the palm of his hands up and down your skin, squeezing it occasionally with a heavy breath like he had just reached heaven´s gate. 

“Mingi,” You warned, but your voice didn´t sound that threatening anymore. 

“Please, just once,” He breathed out, practically rubbing himself against your body like a cat in heat forcing you to slowly lie back in the bed, his hands gently guiding yours over your head as you slid down. You looked up at his glazed eyes, at the way his hands were shaking around your wrists, the way he was discreetly rutting against your thigh without even realizing he was doing it. He looked so vulnerable and frenzied – And it was doing something to you. 

“Mingi,” You whined, not even sure what you were trying to say or do. 

“You kept walking around with this white top all day,” He let out a broken groan, looking down at said top. “Your boobs look amazing in it. I just- I – Can I?” 

His begging eyes were enough to get you automatically nodding before even realizing what you were agreeing to - When you did process what he was asking for though, his right hand was already squeezing your boobs and kneading at them like his life depended on it, his calloused fingers firm on your body. You could feel how hard he was every time he subconsciously ground against you, shaky hot breaths leaving his lips and hitting the sensitive skin on the side of your neck where his plump soft lips kept lightly brushing against with every move. 

Mingi took advantage of the position, sucking against your vein and leaving pleas in the form of little kisses around your skin. His thumb played with your nipple and your hands were still abandoned on top of your head against the sheets, not sure if you would really let this happen yet - but Mingi didn´t seem to mind, too lost in worshipping you into compliance.  

“I need to fuck you. Like, right now. I´ll - I´ll make you feel good too, I promise,” The shakier and breathier his voice sounded the wetter you got. “I promise. I promise. Please. We -we don´t even need to fuck I can – I can – Let me – Just the tip- Anything-” 

“Just the tip?” 

“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, his eyes so hopeful you could melt. 

“Ok,” You agreed, physically not being able to say no to his pleading eyes.  

“Fuck,” He groaned in surprise, not actually thinking you would agree to it - But since you did, he wasted no time and made quick work of practically ripping your cotton short down your legs in one harsh tug. “Under normal circumstances I would, you know – But, I – right now I – I can´t.” 

“It´s ok,” You assured, afraid he would actually cry if you made him wait another single second with how desperate he was. 

He hooked his finger on the bottom of your panties and pushed them to the side, not even being able to take them out. He stared at your pussy for a moment, his eyes looking even more insane than before at the sight, like he would actually growl at you. 

“Fuck,” Mingi cursed as he went out of the little trance he was in, pushing his sweater pants and boxers down in a rush - once again not even bothering with taking them all out.  

And oh fuck. 

His cock was so hard you could imagine how it actually hurt; it throbbed against the skin of his abdomen without even being touched, looking swollen and angry with all the veins surrounding it - And man were you glad you agreed on just the tip because there was just no way that would fit without a lot of preparation first. Even with how wet you were right now. Who knew? 

Mingi leaned on top of you once again, one arm supporting the weight of his body in between your legs as he gently guided his dick up and down your folds, his eyes closing at the feeling, a violent shiver taking over his thighs and up his spine with a loud groan.  

Like he had absolutely no control over his body, Mingi positioned himself against your entrance, slowly pushing just a little bit in as promised. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” His groans sounded so raw against your ear as he cursed over the initial resistance of your walls, his forehead meeting your neck to try and ground himself. 

You even let a moan out yourself because this was absolute madness, it felt insane. Your whole body was buzzing like you were electrified, your fingers ached to scratch Mingi´s back and pull him all the way in - Damn, those candies were good.  

And you only had one. 

“Y/N, fuck,” Mingi gasped as he started moving his hips in shallow little thrusts so he wouldn´t break your agreement. “Ah - Ah. I can´t think strai - You´re so pretty. Fuck, fuck.” 

His lips met your neck once again, messy kisses full of saliva and teeth as he shuddered on top of you, leaving marks that would soon turn purple. You could feel how tense every single muscle in his body was as he fought against himself to not rut deeper into you every time he moved, and you were biting onto your lip so hard to keep the noises inside that you could taste blood.  

“Thank you, thank you,” You shivered at the way cold air hit your neck when Mingi pulled back a bit to look you in the eye, “Can I go ah- a little deeper, please? Just a little. It feels so good, I need ah- more. Fuck.” 

“Mingi.” 

“Please,” He cried out and you just couldn´t believe the sight in front of you. 

Tall big strong Song Mingi with the deep voice, reduced to a disheveled delirious mess. His ashy blond hair rumpled, his cheeks burning pink and skin glistening with sweat, his pupils huge and shiny and he just looked so disheartened that it was breaking your heart to not let him just use you however he wanted.  

“I need you,” He agonized, his right arm clinging onto your shoulder like you would run away from him if you could, so out of it that he was already pushing deeper into you without even noticing, eyes shut so tightly at the sensation of your walls around him. “Please, please, please, please,” It was like a mantra. 

He was far gone. 

And kind of so were you. 

You whine in pain and raspy moans left Mingi´s soft lips every time he thrust back into you, hitting farther each time, “I´m sorry, baby. I´m sorry. You can take it right? Ah – Just a bit more, I promise. Fuck. I´m almost ah- in. Why do you smell so good? It´s driving me ah – insane.” 

It hurt, it did hurt, but you also didn´t seem to mind that he was practically splitting you open when his voice sounded this pretty apologizing for it. 

The speed and strength of his hips started picking up to match his urgency, his plush lips were open so captivatingly and his weight was now supported by both arms so he could pistol into you. He didn´t have a specific angle or rhythm to it, his moves were strictly instinctual and carnal, your nails finally finding your way down his back to keep yourself anchored to reality. 

“You´re so so so beautiful, fuck. Your lips - can´t stop thinking about them around my ah- cock. Will you show me?”  

You loved how broken his voice sounded. 

“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.” 

He shuddered once again at your words, “I´m so close.” 

“Me too,” You nodded, still doing your very best to not let noises of pleasure escape past your lips – and kind of failing. 

“Let me hear you,” Mingi growls, managing to somehow snake his hand in between your bodies to start drawing quick circles on your clit. “Please, I love your voice.” 

You wouldn´t be able to hold back even if you wanted to.  

His chaotic rhythm had an appeal of its own, every broken moan that left his mouth drew you closer to the edge until you finally reached it. Your vision went black, nails digging into Mingi´s biceps so harshly you would feel bad for it later, every muscle in your body tightening as it all washed over you in a devastating wave, leaving your body in the form of gasps and breathy moans. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” Mingi cursed at the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

He wouldn´t slow down and you were still coming down from your high, twitching with the aftershocks as the oversensitivity quickly began to rise, but you decided to ignore it the best you couldand push through it - you could tell Mingi was close anyway with the way his thrusts became even more erratic, and his voice went up with every moan.  

You were mesmerized by his glossy unfocused eyes, the frown on his forehead, so frantic to get what he needed by ramming into you. He looked so pretty like this, you wanted to destroy him-  

Wow. 

Wait. 

Now where did that come from? 

“Shit, I´m gonna- Fuck, fuck.” 

You watched as his whole body froze for a second before violently shaking, his eyes shot so tightly he was probably seeing white as he continued thrusting into you to ride his orgasm to the end as you felt something warm hitting your walls. And his moans, oh his moans – I mean, you were not deaf, you had always been well-aware that Mingi had an attractive voice, but to hear it like this, so raw and relieved, was truly something else. 

Mingi let out one last broken cry as he slowly stopped moving, dropping his weight on top of you to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down against your ribcage as his muscles continued twitching here and there. You took advantage of the moment to get yourself together too, stabilizing your breathing and trying to figure out what the hell just happened as you two went down, but you also kind of expected Mingi to say something or try to joke around a bit to lessen the burden of the fact that the two of you just fucked - and when he didn´t, well, you started getting worried. 

You were mustering up the courage to say something after the two minutes of silence when the last thing you expected to happen, happened.  

Your eyes were blown wide, “Mingi-” 

“I can´t stop, I´m sorry-” He whined, his still rock-solid cock now slowly moving inside of you once again, rutting into you like he had absolutely no control over himself. 

He was still hard? 

Wasn´t this like his third time already? 

His whole body was shaking in overstimulation but he wouldn´t stop grinding into you, “I´m sorry.” 

“Mingi,” You tried pulling away from him thinking that´s what he was asking for. 

“No, don´t. Ah- Need you,” He desperately grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped them around his hips, your chests flushed against each other's as he hid his forehead on your neck to keep fucking deep into you. Literal whines of pain were leaving his lips, it was like he was an animal incapable of rational thoughts, and it was making you feel dizzy. 

“Mingi, love. You´re going to hurt yourself.” 

“No, feels so ah- Just one more,” He moaned, body shuddering. His whines got you clenching involuntarily around him, suddenly realizing you were kind of close to the edge already. “Please.” 

You felt a strong bite on your shoulder disguising a groan, the animalistic act crashed with how smoothly he was sliding in and out of you, but it also showed how deranged he was at the moment. You tightened your thighs around Mingi´s hips and pulled at the hair on his nape, not bothering with trying to cover up your moans anymore. 

Mingi took the action as permission and started gradually moving his hips faster, broken little whines getting louder and more frequent each second until he was once again supported by both his arms and pistoling into you.  

“I can´t - I can´t,” His voice was so shaky, so broken. “I - Please.” 

And then your whole world stopped as you watched the first tear roll down Mingi´s cheek. 

You were mesmerized, you wanted to frame it.  

“It hurts,” He whimpered, another tear falling, followed by another and then another.  

“You´re almost there,” You cooed, deciding to be useful to the poor giant man breaking down on top of you. “Aren´t you? So close.” 

Mingi nodded, blinking harshly to clear his vision which resulted in more tears running down his face. You just couldn´t help supporting your weight onto your elbow so you could lean up and hold his jaw, kissing the salty traces across his cheeks until his face was clean. He immediately started shaking, moans growing whinier and choppier, his thrusts started losing their patterns as he plowed into you like his life depended on it, entering a mental state he never knew existed before. 

His right hand grabbed your thigh with enough force to bruise it badly as he came for what you imagined was the fourth time in an hour, holding you so close that you could feel his cock hitting impossible places deep inside of you. Mingi was breathing so hard you were kind of worried for his well-being but the noises leaving his lips assured you he was feeling pleasure at least as his nose found its place on your neck once again. 

“Feeling better?” You asked once he had calmed down a little. 

“Kind of,” He pushed back to look at you with a low chuckle, his eyes looking a tad bit saner already. “But I also kind of need to eat you out.” 

You felt his dick twitch inside of you at his own words and how the fuck was that even possible? 

A painful whimper left his lips at the slight stimulation, already way past oversensitive, “Please?” 

 He had the nerve to pout. 

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 

Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳

‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧

↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader

feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),

Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.

Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.

Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 

Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.

If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 

Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 

However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 

You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.

Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.

Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 

If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 

Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 

Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 

He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation

Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.

Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 

Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 

He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 

A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.

He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 

Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 

Really, how could he resist you? 

Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.

Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.

Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”

He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.

Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.

This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 

Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.

Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!

[ihavethedreamies]

Strawberry | Juicy Fruit | Chenle

Zhong Chenle - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.1k

Pairing: Chenle x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Dom! Chenle, Sir Kink, Spanking, Fingering, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Your boyfriend likes strawberries a bit too much...

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, didn't happen.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

PS. Chenle is my bias so this is just me living vicariously through my writing…

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Oh, my god, stop!" You slapped Chenle's hand again so he would leave the berries alone. You were trying to make a strawberry cake from scratch, even the sponge would be flavored and pink. Your boyfriend kept eating your ingredients though!

"Just one more~?" He widened his eyes into his best version of a puppy stare, and you almost gave in.

"No!" You hardened your tone more for yourself than at him. He pouted, casting you a pitiful look and you clicked your tongue. If he was really desperate, he knew what to do, but it didn't seem he was that eager to get more strawberries.

"I just like fruit…" He drifted off and you huffed.

"I know, Lele." He watched as you mixed the batter for the cake, eyes glancing back to the fruits every so often.

"If I have some left over you can eat those." You told him, using a rubber spatula to fill the cake pans.

"I still don't understand how Jaemin doesn't like strawberries." He tilted his head, so it rested against his shoulder, elbows resting on the counter where he sat on a stool.

"No one will ever understand anything about Jaemin." You countered and your boyfriend laughed in agreement.

"At least he's not afraid of them." You tossed him a defeated look and he laughed harder. While the sponge baked you made the frosting, Chenle watching in defeat as more and more of the berries disappeared from the container. Finally, you were cutting the last of the ones you needed to decorate the cake, and you had only one left.

"Here." You held the berry up to the side of your head, Chenle had sidled up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms loose around your middle. You felt his hum of delight from his chest pressed into your back as hip lips wrapped around the strawberry, his mouth brushing the skin of your fingers. Before you could pull your hand back down, his tongue flicked to lick the juice that had stuck there from your cutting.

"Hey! Now I gotta wash my hands again!" You clicked your tongue, bonking him softly on the head with a wooden spoon. He yelped much louder than was necessary and pouted at your side as you washed your hands once again. They were getting dry from the repeated cleansing. You put your boyfriend to dish duty as you got the cake sponges out and let it cool. You cleaned the rest of the kitchen up as much as you could, and you both got done by the time it was time to ice and decorate. He watched quietly (for once) while you finished the cake, eagerly taking the frosting bowl when you were done to eat the remnants. You had offered to get him a spoon, but he refused, just using his finger. Once the final decorative berry was placed on the top you sighed in relief, back a little sore from leaning over the counter like you did. It was simple, but that was the only way you could still make it look good. Chenle helped you rearrange stuff in the fridge to fit the cake in so it could fully set by the time you went to your friend's housewarming that evening. Untying your apron, Chenle came up to with the bowl, swiping the rest of the frosting onto his finger and holding it out for you. You gave him a fake glare, but still took his digit between your lips to lick the pink sweet off his finger. He smiled cockily, pressing down on your tongue and you had to make a choice. Do you bite him or play along? You recognized the look on his face, it had been there since you fed him the strawberry.

"Ow, you bit me!" He pulled his hand back rapidly, flapping it in the air and you giggled, taking the now empty bowl from him to put it in the sink. Trying not to giggle too much, you started to wash the rest of the dishes, feeling him come up behind you. You were expecting a hug and whining request, so you squeaked when one arm wrapped tight around your middle at your ribs. The other came over your chest, his hand pressing against your throat, thumb on your jaw. He held your head in place, mouth so close to your ear you could feel his breath fluttering your hair. He smirked at your instant stiffened posture, his hand at your jaw clenching a bit harder.

"You know that one strawberry really wasn't enough…" His tone was casual, but lower than his normal voice. Your mouth went dry, and you licked your lips, hands stilling. When he didn't do anything else, you shut the water off and dropped the dishes you were holding, then waited for his next move.

"Good girl~" Chenle chuckled, his normal cheerful giggle had lowered about two or three octaves.

"Le-"

"Who?"

"Chenle-!" His hand tightened again, pinky curling even tighter to press against your throat.

"Who?" He reiterated and you didn't reply, swallowing hard. Glancing at the clock you were worried if he did everything he normally did, you wouldn't have time to get ready.

"Please, sir. I need time to get ready-" His hum cut your sentence short, his lips vibrating from the noise as they pressed to the skin between your shoulder and neck. You instinctively, submissively, turned your head to the side to let him have better access.

"Maybe I shouldn't let you go? Then I can have you and the cake for myself…" You shivered as he kissed the skin lightly, his grip on your jaw contrasting with the gentle act. You would be really freaking pissed later if he did that, and you both knew that. Luckily for you, your phone started to ring, and he begrudgingly completely let you go, resting grumpily against the island as you grabbed your device.

"Come early?" You glanced at the clock on the oven again, then back to your boyfriend. He sneered but nodded, going pouty again.

"Yes. I will be there in thirty." You hung up and Chenle shuffled to the couch so he could angrily stare at the TV as if he was actually watching it. When you came out of your room in a cute little dress that looked like a big button up with a belt around the middle, he watched you dance around the kitchen getting the cake in a holder. It wasn't as cold as you would have liked, but it would do.

"Bye, Lele~" You gave him an air kiss as you left and he grumbled to himself, crossing his arms.

When you finally got back later that night, you smelled like booze, but you didn’t look like you had partaken.

"I need to change, this dress smells like chicken." You grumbled. Chenle was still on the couch, as if he hadn't moved at all in the last three hours. He had, but not much. The only difference you noticed was that he had a pillow in his lap he was hugging to his chest, but he was still pouting. When you reached the door to your room , you turned to face him, hand behind your back on the knob.

"I don't have to take this off by myself, right?" Your tone lilted playfully, and you giggled as he shut the TV off and got up so fast you were worried his socked feet would slip on the hard wood floor. He eagerly chased after you as you dashed into your room, squealing in delight when he easily lifted you up as he caught you.

"Ah, Le!" You gasped when he spun you as he lifted, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. When did he get that strong? He didn't do it very hard, but his hand smacked your butt after he flipped the skirt of your dress up. You squeaked and he huffed a laugh, practically throwing you onto the bed. His hand wraps around the belt of the middle of your dress, yanking you down to the end of the bed by it, the rapidly taking it off. He clatters on the floor as he throws it behind him, fingers undoing the buttons fast. He really wanted to just tear it open, hear the little pieces clack against the floor and wall as they fly off the garment. But he knew after you would not be too pleased with that. When it was all undone, he let the side flop open, revealing your nicest set of black lace lingerie.

"Fuck." Chenle groaned as you smirked yourself. You started to help him get the dress off, but once the first sleeve was off, he tugged on the fabric so hard it flipped you over onto your stomach.

"Chenle!" You tried to scold him as he rapidly removed the dress. To obedient to flip back over and watch, you heard him discard his own clothes, the garments thumping slightly as they hit the floor. You let out another yelp when his hands gripped your hips tight, hauling you back toward the end of the bed. You bring your legs down, so your feet touch the floor, already having an idea what he was doing. Your boyfriend was much more careful with your panties than your other garment, swiftly pulling them down and off. He chuckled when your body shivered as his fingers came to your soaking folds. His skin was cold, especially compared to your hot core. Your breath hitched when he immediately buried two fingers inside your cunt, all the way to the last knuckle. He loved the little mewls and whimpers you let you as he roughly wiggled his fingers, adding a third then pumping them hard against your back wall.

"Sir-" You tried to protest when his fingers left, but his hand came down hard on your ass. Your whine made his cock harden even further, the skin turning red in the shape of his hand.

"You left me hanging for hours, (Y/N)." He spoke derisively, "how many hours, hm?"

"Th-three."

"Then how many do you get?" He asked and you tried to do math quick. He liked to do an even number of spanks on each cheek, but six wasn't enough.

"T-twelve?"

"Hm…okay." His hand came down again on the opposite side and you squeaked.

"T-two." You had to think for a second, hoping your answer was right. Chenle didn't say anything in protest, laying another smack. Each time you let out a yipe, though the slick dripping from your cunt revealed how much you liked it.

"Twelve." You gasped out, legs twitching, the skin of your ass just as red as the strawberries you deprived him of. He wondered how red your cute pussy could get if he smacked it, but he wasn't going to just do it without asking you.

"S-sir, please~" Your request turned into a moan as his cock met your entrance and he slowly eased in. You couldn't see his smirk, but he licked his bottom lip and fucked the last inch of his cock in hard, his hips meeting your still stinging ass. You yelped, fingers digging into the bedding above your head, eyes nearly crossing at the delicious pain, not just from the stretch of his cock but your stinging butt. Chenle leaned forward over your back, chest pressed to your back, his mouth right by your ear. His fingers linked with yours and he nibbled the crest of your ear, letting you adjust some. He huffed, then rolled his hips hard, instantly pulling out nearly all the way then slamming home. Your walls fluttered and he chuckled as his next thrust threw your over the edge, your release coating not just his cock but the skin of his groin as well. He didn't let up as your orgasm rolled through you, continuing to relentlessly fuck his cock into you. He gripped your hands tighter, helping you get some leverage. It was good the bed was beneath you, holding you up, the pleasure wracking through you sapping all your strength. His right hand left yours, curling around and under your stomach, pulling your hips up. This forced you onto your tip toes but changed the angle and his cock got even deeper, the head battering your cervix as he picked up the pace. He loved the squeaks it eked out of you, and your cunt clenching his dick brought him closer to the edge as well. Chenle brought his finger to your clit, rubbing over it so you came again. You tried to milk him to completion as well, but he held back, and once yours had subsided, he pulled out and came all over your butt and lower back. You slumped down, shivering and he admired the sight. He would have that any day over even the most perfect strawberry.

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[warping-realities]

Rebranding (Repost)

"How can you be so reckless, Vincent? Be grateful I pulled your ass out of the fire and threw a coat over your sorry self, you idiot. But the fallout... Don’t you get that this could totally wreck your whole career?"

"I know, but that bitch..."

"Don’t you dare use that word again; it's already bad enough to have it on tape flying around all the gossip shows!"

"Sorry, that... woman..."

"Valery, your girlfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend, or do you really think I’d stick around after she cheated on me?"

"Understandable you broke up, but threatening her and calling her all those names in front of a bunch of paparazzi? Half-naked, no less! What were you thinking?"

"That’s what I’m asking; what was I thinking when I decided to date a brainless bimbo with fake blonde hair?"

"Be super careful with what you say; after all, that’s not the image you wanna project, Vincent."

"Ah, I’m sorry." He replied, eyeing his agent's long blonde hair.

"Apology accepted, asshole. But we’ve got bigger fish to fry. So, tell me, what am I supposed to do with you?"

"I didn’t get your question."

"But I was so clear that even a bimbo would get it."

"Look, I already apologized for how I acted..."

"It turns out that in our circle, just saying sorry isn’t enough. We’ve got an image to protect and sell. Like you said, the vibe Valery gives off fits perfectly with betrayals and gossip sites. But you? Not so much, at least not until this week’s fiasco. Honestly, I never understood what she saw in you. Sure, you’re a well-known gamer influencer, but you’re just a nerd. She’s on another level, with more followers than you, and I bet she’ll be a fashion icon in no time."

"If you called me here just to roast me, I’m out." He said, getting up.

"Sit your ass down and shut it." Inexplicably, he found himself compelled to do just that.

"Hmmm, hmmm."

"Much better, right? I should've figured out your type way earlier, the nice guy who makes funny videos, the friend to everyone, protesting for minorities... but who, deep down, is just another sexist and misogynist like so many others. You’re way worse than a dumb jock, you know why, Vincent? Because they don’t hide who they are; women can smell the toxic masculinity from a mile away. But you, our so-called allies... what a joke... allies like you? I don’t need that. You come at us with your soft words and sensitive hearts, and women like us fall for it. We only catch on to all the microaggressions, the hits to our self-esteem when it’s gone too far, when that happens." She said, pointing to the eye prosthesis.

"I had a heart-to-heart with Valery this morning. Turns out, on top of all that, you’re a lousy performer in bed. That’s why she’s been sneaking around with her gym buddies. Poor girl, always picking the wrong guy, but at least the last dude had an enviable body and an even more enviable... tool, maybe the reason for your little meltdown. In your defense, she swore to me you never laid a finger on her. So, my dear, I’ve decided I’m not gonna bail on you, and Valery’s agreed not to press charges. But for everyone to be happy after the mess you made, you both gotta agree to clean up your images. And for that, you’re gonna participate in a reality show! Fun, right?" She finished with a smirk. Vincent's shocked look showed he wasn’t finding this fun at all.

"Now, Valery is perfect for the reality show in question, and as for you... we’ve got a few months until the next season drops, which I really appreciate, 'cause we need to let the dust settle to work on your image and do a total rebranding. Get up and strip down to your underwear; I don’t need to hurt my only eye with the sight of your tiny dick."

Vincent again found himself compelled to comply and robotically followed his manager's orders.

"It really isn’t good material! But let’s change that; how about a few years less studying foreign languages and more time getting swole at the gym, Vincent?"

Suddenly, all knowledge of Spanish and French evaporated from his mind. Followed by a weird feeling in his body, starting in his feet, which ballooned from size 8 to size 11. Then his calves, a joke among his friends, widened and showed more definition, as well as his thighs, which grew to the point of making him move one leg away from the other, with a little help from his dick, which went from size 3 to 7. Then his abs started to show the shadow of a six-pack, with defined pecs to match, and finally, his skinny arms gained the size and definition of someone who actually lifts weights at the gym. As soon as it started, the feeling passed.

"Much better, flex those muscles for me, Vincent." And so he did, screaming in horror in his own head, but utterly speechless on the outside.

"I think we still have room for improvement," said Monica distractedly. And Vincent, summoning all his willpower, finally got a moment of clarity, rushing to the table and trying to grab anything he could use against her. Not succeeding he just used all his remaining willpower to raise a fist in defiance.

"Stop right there! A fist? Seriously, Vincent? I figured with all your big-brain intellect you’d come up with something better." She mocked the frozen man.

"Apparently, that intellect isn’t all that great. So how about we trade twenty IQ points for another twenty pounds of lean muscle, a few extra inches on your height, on that useless dick of yours, and on those big feet; for some reason, some women go crazy for that!"

Vincent was hit by that odd feeling in his body again, this time accompanied by a sensation of being sucked into his own mind, which prevented him from even thinking. His feet reached a gigantic size 14, giving off a pungent odor, his calves grew until they took on the shape of diamonds, and his thighs expanded to the size of tree trunks; his penis - little Vinnie, a name that popped into his head - reached an impressive 9 inches in length, along with the circumference of a beer can. That hint of a six-pack evolved into a defined eight-pack, and his pecs turned into two slabs of meat, completing the sculpt he developed with broad shoulders and huge, vascularized arms.

"Almost there! The body’s perfect, and intellect down to just the right level. But something’s missing. How about we swap your obsession with game culture for an obsession with yourself? A few tattoos, and what were you saying about fake blonde tan and bleached blond hair? Let’s make sure the outside represents the inside well, my dear, and the main thing is that every woman who lays eyes on you knows what kind of man she’s dealing with.

…

The two girls sitting on the sand tried to focus from a distance on who the man was approaching at the edge of the sea.

"Is he mine or yours, Val?"

"I think he’s yours, Brit; from this distance, I can’t be sure, but he doesn’t look like any of mine... except... no way!"

"What, Val?" asked the other anxiously.

"Wait and see, Britt! But I can guarantee you this is gonna blow some minds!" answered Valery, seeing the young man approaching.

"Hello, ladies!" said the man, exuding cockiness.

"Vincent Parker?" Britt asked in disbelief as Valery just smiled.

"No formalities, girls. You can call me Vinnie!"

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 01x15 - Etemon! Grand Entrance of Evil / The Dark Network of Etemon

Previously on Digimon Adventure: On their way to Server Continent, the kids had a cleaning day after discovering Devimon's been dumping used Black Gears and old lanyards in the ocean. During clean-up, Gomamon got excited and nearly killed everyone.

Drake, meanwhile, regretted blowing that "They completed the tutorial level" crack on the episode's proper rundown. Should'a saved that.

Now, they're about to make landfall and meet the most iconic vocal performance in the entirety of the Adventure 01 dub.

It's been five days since the kids set sail. Now we open on Taichi bristling with anticipation on Whamon's back while the others snooze.

(This would be about Day 12, I believe, since they've been here. The timescale of Day 6 was a little confusing in both versions, but the kids ended Day 6 fighting Devimon. Then they had dinner and a night-time discussion about coming to Server, before building the raft in the daylight of Day 7. Five days later would put us at 12.)

He's so excited, he wakes everyone up even though they're probably still a ways out given how far that appears to be. Rude.

Taichi: Hey! Everyone wake up! It's the tairiku (continent)! We've reached Server Tairiku! Yamato: (waking) What's all the racket? Jou: (waking) What's this about about taiyaki (tasty fish-shaped pastry)? Taichi: Not taiyaki, tairiku! Look! It's Server Tairiku!

That's another one for the untranslatable wordplay pile, so the dub plays it this way.

Tai: Alright, everybody, wake up! Rise and shine! We're landing at Server! Matt: (waking) ...I was only resting my eyes. Joe: (waking) Well, your eyes were snoring pretty loudly. Tai: Come on, we're gonna be there in a few minutes! Gotta make sure we have everything we'll need!

Matt tries to play too cool dude for sleep only for Joe to swiftly undercut him. Hey, look at that; Joe got to be the deliverer of a joke instead of its target!

Not sure what Tai thinks they need to grab, though. I'm not even sure what they've been eating or drinking on this trip, since none of the shots of them riding Whamon have suggested that their oil drum filled with potable water or crates of food survived the raft's destruction. They were last seen floating in the debris, so I guess we'll just have to assume they fished those out offscreen.

(Maybe they've been fishing, providing a supply of tasty fish to both eat and drink somehow like Taichi suggested earlier.)

As they approach, Agumon demonstrates the limits of his worldly knowledge.

Agumon: Wow, what a huge island! Piyomon: It's not an island, it's a continent! Tentomon: This is my first time ever seeing so much land on the horizon!

Sadly, even getting involved with Agumon's ignorance gets Piyomon in trouble with the dub team, who blame her for it.

Agumon: Wow, that island's huge! Biyomon: I've never seen an island so big! Tentomon: It's not an island; It's the continent of Server.

Guess they didn't like the choice to have someone other than Exposition Guy correct Agumon.

Meanwhile, not everyone is quite up and at 'em yet. Palmon eagerly tries to rouse Mimi from a deep slumber.

Palmon: Wake up, Mimi! You can see Server Tairiku from here! It's the Tairiku! TAIRIKU!!! Mimi: (muttering, half-asleep) I prefer keki (cake) to taiyaki.... (rolls over and goes back to sleep) Palmon: (sigh) Oh, Mimi.

Alright, that one got me. I was not prepared for Taiyaki Wordplay 2: The Reckoning. XD

Needing a replacement joke here, the dub goes for the Valley Girl bit.

Palmon: Mimi, you've just gotta wake up and look at this! We're going to land on a BIG CONTINENT!!! Mimi: (muttering, half-asleep) Nooo... I'm getting a pedicure.... (rolls over and goes back to sleep) Palmon: (sigh) Oh, Mimi.

This is a good use for it. We've come a long way from the first couple episodes, where the show would get mad at Mimi over a character trait they made up to have something to get mad at her about. Switching "Mimi won't get up because she likes cake more than continent" to "Mimi won't get up because she's at the dream spa" is a lateral shift. Having her say this retains the goofiness of the moment as best they can and doesn't make her look any worse in the process.

Pulling up to Server, the kids disembark. It's a dangerous process; There's no docking mechanism for a whale, so everyone has to slide down Whamon's side and then kick off and jump to the cliff before they slide too far and fall into the ocean. But they make it. All but one, who remains up top paralyzed with fear.

Sora: Come on, Mimi-chan! Be brave! Mimi: Why do we have to get off here? Aren't there better places to land!? Koushiro: In fact, there is an inlet up north where it would have been easier for us to get off. Jou: That's why we had a group discussion, but decided to land here. You slept through it, though! Mimi: Don't make important decisions like that without me!

I want to feel bad for her, but honestly! Keki over taiyaki? Mimi deserves this.

(I'm really more of a pie person, myself; I can't stand the frosting on cake. I've never actually had taiyaki but I've always been curious. It sounds kinda like a cream-filled donut but made from waffle instead of cake.)

Meanwhile, in the dub:

Sora: Come on, Mimi! Mimi: Uhh, this is a little too extreme sports for me. Is there some way I can be airlifted onto the island? Izzy: Sorry we can't just move the continent for you, Mimi. Now, according to the map, this is the best beach to come ashore. Joe: Just put one foot in front of the other and you'll be fine! Really! It's as easy as falling off a log, Mimi! Mimi: Yeah? Well, I've fallen off plenty of logs and believe me, it's not as easy as it looks!

They cut the context that Mimi could have had a voice in this discussion had she not refused to wake up. That the group settled on a suboptimal landing spot is replaced by an insistence that this was the best place possible, forcing Joe and Mimi to spend their last two lines bantering.

Izzy also calls this cliffside a "beach" for some reason.

In the end, Whamon ends up being the deciding factor here. He sinks suddenly, unbalancing Mimi and sending her tumbling down his side before giving her a bump to throw her up onto the cliff. Trusting one of these lunkheads to break her fall for him.

BAM. Fall broken. Hope his computer's okay; This was probably the worst option for Mimi to land on.

His task complete, Whamon says his farewells and returns to the ocean, leaving the kids on a whole new continent. Fortunately, they're not entirely directionless.

Mimi: Where do we go from here? Palmon: Whamon said that if we continue on, we'll reach a Koromon village in the forests within half a day. Mimi: Koromon? I think I've heard that name before.... Agumon: I used to be a Koromon! Mimi: That's right! Tentomon: The Koromon should be willing to help us. Taichi: Alright! Let's go!

Taichi's so eager to go, he turns away from Agumon to address the group at warp speed. Flipping instantly from one pose to the other with no transitional animation frames between. Super jarring.

Not sure how Whamon knows much about the continent's geography past its edges. Nonetheless, it seems implied that this came up during the talk about where to land. Proximity to the Koromon village may have been the deciding factor in choosing Perilous Cliffside over Easier Inlet.

In the dub:

Mimi: So what are we going to do now? Palmon: While you were asleep, Whamon told us where to go. In the forest, a few miles from here, there's a Koromon village! Mimi: Koromon? Why, that somehow sounds familiar! Agumon: I was a Koromon the day you got here. Mimi: I forgot! Tentomon: The Koromon are a group of Digimon always willing to help out those in need! Tai: Okay, gang! Let's move out!

Tentomon's a bit more verbose and seems to be basing his idea off the biology of Koromon or something rather than a general hope that a kindly village will assist travelers.

But the bigger shift is in Palmon's line. Human walking pace generally averages about 2-4 mph. "A few miles from here" is a much shorter distance than half a day's journey.

The kids set off into Server. We join up with them trudging through the desert.

Jou: This really is a continent.... Gomamon: Why are you stating the obvious? Jou: Because we've been walking for so long and the scenery hasn't even changed a single bit! Mimi: I thought, once we reached the shore, I could take a bath.... Palmon: You can, once we reach the village! Mimi: When will we get there, then!? What hour, minute, and second? Palmon: ...uhhh....

Jou calls out that the biomes of Server are significantly larger than the ones on File Island. They've been walking for a good 8-12 hours through dry, dry desert and nothing looks any different from where they started.

In the dub:

Sora: This place is bigger than I thought. Izzy: It's simple physics. The universe is expanding! Joe: I think my feet are expanding. We have been walking all day long and there's no sign of the village yet! Mimi: Oh, I'd give anything to be in a nice clean bathtub with lots of bubble bath in it! Palmon: You can do that once we get to the village. Mimi: You honestly think they have bathtubs, Palmon!? Palmon: ...uhhh....

So much for "a few miles". Sora and Izzy's lines here are delivered in completely casual tones, which makes Joe and Mimi come off more whiny. In the original, everyone just sounds tired and frustrated by their trek.

We lose Jou's point about the size difference between Server and File, and replace it with Izzy's... random derailment? Cosmic expansion has nothing to do with why Server's desert is bigger than the Gear Savannah.

Mimi's bit is also shifted, and in a way that makes Mimi look better. We've come a long ways from changing her lines to give the others reasons to yell at her in the first few episodes. In the original, she's just talking about bathing in general; Palmon tries to be helpful and Mimi snaps at her. In the dub, she's fantasizing about a luxurious bathtub experience, making Palmon's attempt at encouragement more unreasonable.

Suddenly, Agumon smells something. Getting a sniff of Koromon in the distance, he calls Taichi's attention. Through his mini-telescope, Taichi spots the forest they've been looking for in the distance, and the group races off towards salvation.

Following a short march into the woods, they find their destination.

Eager for a chance to take a bath, Mimi races down the hill ahead of the others. While Palmon chases after her, Agumon hesitates. After a moment, he drops a bombshell.

Agumon: This isn't the place.

Dub Agumon isn't quite as certain.

Agumon: Something doesn't feel right.

Reaching the bottom of the hill, Mimi races into the village to find... Koromon?

Mimi: Hey, where are your baths? Koromon?: (They all turn around to face her at once, saying nothing.) Mimi: Huh? Did Koromon always look like this? Palmon: No, these are Pagumon.

Just so we're all on the same page about the chill running down Agumon's spine right now, the narrator cuts in with the rundown. Pagumon is a Baby-stage Virus-type Digimon. They get their names from "pagu", the Japanese word for the "pug" breed of dog. Pugmon.

Narrator: Pagumon. A Baby Digimon who loves to bully the weak and make fools out of others.

For his part, Tentomon seems at a loss for what he can say here.

Tentomon: Hmm, Pagumon. There are[sic] more to them than meets the eye.

Tentomon's rundown is a shrug emoji followed by "IDK Maybe they're Decepticons. Is that the right toy franchise?" He's so utterly at a loss, he even screws up his grammar.

As soon as the rundown's complete, the Pagumon gently knock Palmon over and run off with Mimi.

Great job, Palmon! Solid 10/10 bodyguarding happening right now!

The rest of the group arrives too late to stop them from taking Mimi. Following the sound of her screams, they make their way to a luxurious hut. A trail left behind by her discarded hat and bag lead them to the chamber she's been taken to.

The dub takes this as a perfect opportunity to add some jokes. When they find her hat, Sora picks it up and inspects it.

Sora: There's Mimi's hat! (snatches it up) It's definitely hers.

For the dub, she says:

Sora: Hey, look up there! That's Mimi's hat! (snatches it up) There's the price tag; It's Mimi's.

XD Solid. That got me.

Then, when they find the bag, we get:

Jou: Hey, isn't that Mimi-kun's bag? Koushiro: You're right. That can't be anyone else's but hers. Taichi: Okay, then! (angrily throws back the curtain) She must be in here!

The dub makes this into:

Joe: That's Mimi's purse. She never goes anywhere without! Izzy: Logically, that can mean only one thing: She's missing. Tai: (angrily throws back the front curtain) That's it!

Helpful, Izzy.

However, as Taichi approaches the rear curtain to enter the chamber beyond, Sora makes an alarming discovery.

It's a bath. The Pagumon brought her to the bath she asked for. A revelation that comes much too late for both Taichi and Koushiro, who are swiftly and furiously taken out by a thrown wash basin and shampoo bottle respectively.

Once the two intruders have been slain, Sora closes the curtain to preserve what's left of Mimi's privacy.

(Koushiro is having the worst day. XD This is the second time he's been laid out by Mimi-related projectile attacks.)

The Pagumon lay out a feast and formally welcome everyone to the Pagumon village. Singing a welcoming anthem in the background while the kids discuss.

Gabumon: Apparently this was a Pagumon village. Agumon: That's weird. I'm sure I smelled Koromon here.... Mimi: I feel like Otohime-sama when she arrived at Ryugu-jou! Jou: You're mixing up characters. You mean Urashima. Sora: (picking out apples with Taichi) You don't think these are fake, do you? Taichi: As if something like that would happen twice! (bite) Tasty! It's real!

Mimi and Jou are talking about a Japanese folk tale. The protagonist, a fisherman named Urashima, rescues a turtle. The turtle turns out to be the princess Otohime, daughter of the sea's ruler Ryujin. To repay his kindness, Ryujin grants him an audience in his great palace of Ryugu-jou at the bottom of the ocean. There's a lot more to it than that but the important thing is, as Jou states, Mimi mixed up which one was the main character.

(Imagine that, Mimi likes and relates to the cool sea princess more than the everyman protag. Representation matters, folks.)

In the dub:

Gabumon: This is definitely a Pagumon village. Agumon: Something's wrong here, Gabumon. I know what I smelt was Koromon. I'd bet my nose on it! Mimi: I feel just like a princess in a big, beautiful palace! Joe: I once had a chihuahua named Princess. Sora: Listen, Tai; You don't suppose this could be some kind of trick? Tai: 'Course not! You think I don't know a good Digimon from a bad one?

As far as compensating for untranslatable gags go, "chihuahua named Princess" is one of their weaker attempts. Don't know why they removed the callback to Devimon's feast, though.

In any case, the Digimon from there agree that the Pagumon are much nicer than their reputation.

They're right, too. The Pagumon are eerily nice. Like, they're too nice. They're clearly trying too hard to be accommodating. Comparing to the Pyocomon feast, the Pagumon have their entire population out here practically worshipping the passing travelers. It's weird.

They've crossed the line from "hospitality" to "trying to sell something". It's super suspicious if you're not eleven.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a long-awaited event finally happens.

Poyomon evolves, once more becoming Tokomon. He's back to where he was when he and Takeru met. The kids and Pagumon all applaud, celebrating his achievement.

But then, as Day 12 comes to a close and the kids go to bed inside one of the huts, this happy occasion becomes markedly less so.

The Pagumon kidnap Tokomon, tying him up and jabbing him with sticks.

Tokomon: W-Why are you doing this!? Pagumon: Because you evolved! Tokomon: You aren't nice Digimon!? Pagumon 1: It was an act! Pagumon 2: You're all so stupid for falling for it!

The dub edits the footage to cut out all shots of the Pagumon jabbing sticks into Tokomon. This means Pagumon's first line and Tokomon's second are all cut out.

Tokomon: What'd I do!? Why are you picking on me!? Pagumon 1: Because you Digi-volved! Pagumon 2: You were so easy to fool! What a bunch of losers!

Now, I enjoy beating babies with sticks as much as the next person so obviously the censoring makes me sad. But the dialogue still flows smoothly and hits all the key points. It's a simple enough exchange that it can be easily covered in three lines.

They don't get very far into Tokomon's bullying, however; A trio of Digimon call out to them, demanding to know what's happening here.

These are Gazimon, a Child-stage Virus-type Mammal Digimon. Their name comes from gazigazi, the onomotapoeia for eating.

Narrator: Gazimon. They have a vicious and aggressive temperament. Their special attack, Paralyze Breath, is a mass of electricity that numbs their opponents.

Paralyzing lightning breath. Well, that's fucking ominous. This is not the cavalry here to save Tokomon; These are very bad bunnies.

Tokomon handles the diegetic rundown himself.

Tokomon: Look! Those are Gazimon! On the evil scale of 1 to 10, 10 being bad, these Digimon are 12!

Really? Where would Devimon rank on that scale? Because the Gazimon have steep competition if they're going to trump him in badness. I agree with the sentiment but you may be overselling it a little.

The Gazimon promptly question the Pagumon about all this.

Gazimon: Where'd that Tokomon come from? Pagumon: H-He came with a bunch of humans.... Gazimon: Humans?

They weren't prepared for that answer, exchanging looks among themselves.

The Gazimon have the Pagumon bring Tokomon to a cave behind a waterfall. There, they lock him in a cage.

Pagumon: Stay quiet in here, you!

The dub Pagumon express jealousy for earlier.

Pagumon: Not so special now, are you?

From the cage, Tokomon sees many red eyes light up from deeper within. The sight of it frightens him, but we move perspective to the Gazimon watching from outside.

Gazimon 1: Who would have guessed the Chosen Children would show up here? Gazimon 2: I'll go tell Etemon-sama about this. You guys take care of the rest!

After torturing and imprisoning Tokomon, now seems like a good time for the dub to drop in a tension-lightening gag.

Gazimon 1: One of us has to tell Etemon that the DigiDestined humans are here! Gazimon 2: I'll go. I gotta ask him for time off for a harecut anyway!

While the Pagumon are instructed to keep an eye on the kids and not to let them leave.

We follow that Gazimon as he races across the landscape. On the dawn of Day 13, he reaches his destination. Spotting a Monochromon hauling Etemon's trailer around, he approaches the trailer and we are introduced to this piece of work!

Introducing Etemon-sama! Perfect-stage Virus-type Puppet Digimon and pop star extraordinaire. This guy turns in the single most memorable vocal performance of the entire dub by being a major villain voiced entirely and unapologetically as a full-blown Elvis Impersonator.

For the next season or whatever, we are going to be fighting Evil Monkey J-Pop Elvis. That is the plot. Digimon is wild.

Etemon: YEAH YEAH!!! Who is the strongest in the world!? That's me, ETEMOOOOOOOON!!!

Two things to note here: First, "YEAH YEAH" is in English for added stylishness. Second and more importantly, when Etemon says "strongest in the world", he specifically says "Konoyo de saikyou". That's an interesting choice of words: Konoyo.

We've previously seen the world referred to as Digimon Kai and Digital Sekai. The words there, kai and sekai, are ways of referring to the physical reality around us. It doesn't necessarily mean "Earth", mind you; Dragon Ball for instance uses kaio, "World-King", to refer to godly beings who govern the entire universe. "World" is different from "planet".

Konoyo is more of a spiritual term; It exists in opposition to anoyo, the other world beyond death. Etemon proclaims up-front that he is the strongest Digimon in the world of mortal life. He's our Frieza, um... according to him, anyway.

Meanwhile, the dub gives us our first impression of his Elvis tones.

Etemon: Yeah! The concert sensation of the Server Continent is back! ALRIGHT, it's Etemon the King!

I like that he calls himself "the King" right up front. Not even pretending. Uh-huh-huh.

Yeah, there's no way to actually make his voice come across through text. But if you know it, y'know. In any case, that's not really added; Gazimon calls him King of Digimon right after the narrator's rundown, which is probably where the inspiration to make him Elvis came from. I mean. He's a music sensation called the King, there's only so many directions you can go with that.

Narrator: Etemon. A Digimon who claims to be the strongest. His two powerful attacks, Dark Spirits and Love Serenade, support that claim.

For the rundown, the narrator even centers on the fact that Etemon's status as Strongest in Konoyo cites only a source of like, your opinion, man. While nonetheless stressing that he has the might to back it up.

Tentomon has to warp over to handle the diegetic rundown, because we're now officially at the point where doing it diegetically doesn't always work anymore.

Tentomon: There is nothing entertaining about Etemon. He has the power to control anything electronic through his Dark Network.

Spoilers, Tentomon!

Though, in a rare twist, the dub's rundown is more informative and useful than the original's, giving us an early explanation of the way Etemon's abilities work.

Hard disagree about that first line, though. Dub Etemon is amazing.

Once Etemon's intro is out of the way, Gazimon attempts to broach the topic of the kids with him.

Gazimon: HAIL ETEMON-SAMA!!! King of Digimon! Etemon: (punches Gazimon in the skull) Shut up! You're too loud for this early in the morning! Gazimon: ...maybe you should take your own advice.... Etemon: SHUT UP!!! SILENCE!!! According to my calculations, the Chosen Children will be landing here soon. I'll ambush them here and crush them all! A fine plan, if I do say so myself. But if you're too loud, the children will hear you!

He gestures to a map, where a blinking blue light indicates the kids' location. As a nice detail, you can also see the inlet further up north that Mimi would have preferred to disembark at.

(You can see the gears turning in his head here if you think about it. That spot on the map is probably the jagged cliffside. If the GPS places them there and they're on a raft, they're going to need to find somewhere nearby that their raft can actually come aground at. So Etemon's waiting at the nearest beach.)

This is a good plan, thwarted by the circumstances of the sea voyage. The Whamon encounter was a fucking miracle. Due to how much faster he was than the raft, we arrived a full day sooner than expected. And we were able to disembark directly onto the jagged cliff (or inlet) rather than this raft-accessible beach. Whamon single-finnedly made the entire rest of this series possible.

This also sets the tone for the kind of villain Etemon is going to be. Devimon had to be cautious and calculating because a 6v1 Adult-stage dogpile intimidated him. He wasn't confident he could win that.

Etemon is Perfect-stage and allegedly Strongest in Konoyo so his plan is to just tear these kids apart with his bare hands. There is nothing he can throw at them that will be more effective than himself.

Over in the dub, he continues to Elvis.

Gazimon: EVERYONE HAIL ETEMON, THE TRUE KI-- Etemon: (punches Gazimon in the skull) Now, son, you're way too loud for an early morning time like this, understand? Gazimon: But you're the one using the amplifier, sir.... Etemon: Now let's get something straight, sonny-boy; I'm the Monarch of Rock and Roll. Your jives make me happy! The humans will be here soon! You see now, once I start making my fabulous music? Well, those kids are gonna be mine! They'll just have to come over and see what great star is singin' like that!

Without mentioning that they're coming ashore here, it's less clear why he expects them to show up at this spot. I think you can still put it together from context - we got a big shot of the beach on Gazimon's approach - but that threw me as a kid.

I do, however, like the dub's addition to his plan: He was going to rock out and bait them into coming to their doom of their own free will. History suggests this would have gone off without a hitch; Children are gullible and our kids have proven to be no exception.

Overall, Etemon has a solid plan. There's just one problem with it.

Gazimon: The children won't be here. Etemon: Hm!? Gazimon: The Chosen Children arrived yesterday and landed somewhere else. They're at the Pagumon village right now. Etemon: W-What!? HOW!? WHY!? Gazimon: (points to the map) That's not up-to-date.

Etemon slams his fists down on the console, causing the data to refresh. The blinking GPS light changes to a new location on the map. Devimon lets out a hysterical shriek at the sight of it.

Etemon: AHHHHHHH IT'S TRUE!!! My plan is ruined! I'll never forgive them for this! Remember that!

Etemon releases the Monochromon and detaches the harness from his trailer. He then summons his Dark Network, causing a set of cables to emerge from the earth for his trailer to drive along.

Gazimon asks Etemon about his intentions.

Gazimon: Will you gather your subordinates? Etemon: I'll be more than enough for Chosen Children on my own.

But Etemon has no intention of leaving this task to others.

In the dub:

Gazimon: There's just one thing wrong. Etemon: Huh!? Gazimon: Just that those seven kids are already here. They've been at the Pagumon village since yesterday. Etemon: What!? Just what are you saying!? I had it all worked out, kid! My whole plan's flawless! Gazimon: Well, somebody forgot to tell those humans! Etemon: No! It's just not fair! (Etemon slams his fists on the console, causing the light to move) Etemon: I am the King here! They gotta learn the hard way what you already know: They can't be messin' with the royal one! I expect my plans to be followed, uh-huh-huh!

Once he gets his trailer moving, the exchange is:

Gazimon: This will be your greatest performance yet, boss! Etemon: It's not easy being a superstar, little bunny, but somebody's gotta do it!

This exchange conveys so much less information. Etemon doesn't even bring up the movement of the blinking light, and he seems to pound the console out of frustration rather than to refresh the data. Combined with him failing to mention the kids' landing, it's not super clear in the dub what that light even represents.

They also cut the explanation that he a) has subordinates he can bring against the kids but b) is choosing to do this himself. Entertaining as the Elvis persona is, it's replaced much of the plot laid out in this scene.

On the plus side, Etemon being furious with the kids for not following his plan to murder them is a great extrapolation from the original "I'll never forgive them!" moment.

Back at the Pagumon village, the kids search frantically for Takeru's missing Partner.

Mimi: I thought I could finally take a break. I wish he wouldn't make us go to so much trouble! Gomamon: And who do you think's given us the most trouble all this time? Mimi: Jou-senpai. Jou: Ack! He means you! Mimi: EHHHH!?!?

Honestly, I'm with Mimi. I mean, Mimi once threw a tantrum because Koushiro was ignoring her for a long time, but Jou once melted down at the entire group over how they season their eggs. Jou's dogged insistence that there's humans to take care of us just around the next corner has also landed us in trouble multiple times, including being the reason the kids fell for Devimon's trap.

Gomamon's Partner biases are showing. I love Jou, and the way he behaves makes perfect sense when you consider the pressures he's under. But if we're gonna talk "Who keeps getting us into jams?" and "Who's the hardest to be around sometimes?" then the finger should be pointed that-a-way.

The dub takes this as an opportunity for a Valley Girl joke.

Mimi: Can we hurry this up? I'm scheduled for a mud pack and a facial in half an hour. Gomamon: Tokomon should know better than to interrupt your beauty treatments. Mimi: You're so right. Joe: Huh? He's being sarcastic. Mimi: WHA--!?!?

I think the dub version of this flows better because Mimi's the butt of both jokes but here it feels more deserved. There's no ambiguity here; Mimi's being shallow and Gomamon gently ribs her for it.

With everyone searching for Tokomon, Koushiro draws a map of the village in the dirt with a stick so he can mark everywhere they've looked. While the kids are searching the village, the Pagumon check the waterfall and report back that he wasn't there.

However, while everyone else is checking the village, Agumon returns to the forest. He's interested in pursuing that Koromon scent that did not lead in the village's direction earlier.

He follows that smell all the way to the waterfall, where he finds not only Tokomon in a cage but something else.

Agumon: Koromon! Why are you all locked up in here? Koromon 1: This is our home! Koromon 2: Two or three days ago, the Pagumon came here and took over our homes! Agumon: Then those guys are-- Tokomon: Wicked liars! You have to tell everyone!

Over in the dub, Agumon's kneejerk reaction to seeing Koromon in cages is to quip about it.

Agumon: Koromon! Boy, you guys gotta get a bigger apartment; Maybe some place with a few more bedrooms. Koromon 1: The Pagumon came and locked us in these cages! Koromon 2: About three days ago, they came in and took over our whole village. Agumon: Then we were really right after all! Tokomon: I appreciate chatting as much as the next guy, but if you untie me, we could go warn the others.

Dub Agumon and Tokomon are both unsettlingly casual about this predicament. Though the Koromon don't seem amused by any of this.

Agumon tries to free the Koromon, but he doesn't get very far before he's interrupted.

It's the two Gazimon who stayed behind while the third went for Etemon. They've been guarding this waterfall cave.

Agumon: I'll get you out of here quick! Gazimon: Oh, you're not allowed to do that. Agumon: You guys are... Gazimon! Gazimon: We'll be offering the Chosen Children to Etemon-sama! Agumon: Etemon? Gazimon: We'll dispose of you here!

Agumon barely has a chance to defend himself. The Gazimon lunge for him together, shoving him to the ground and raining punches down on him.

In the dub:

Agumon: I'll have you out in just a minute. Gazimon: I really don't think so! Agumon: Hmm? But you're Gazimon! Gazimon: Exactly right. And we're going to be giving those humans of yours to King Etemon. Agumon: No, you're not! Not quite! Gazimon: Why don't we teach the little lizard a lesson?

Between this and the last bit, I think Dub Agumon's high. His lines throughout this waterfall cave scene are atrocious. My favorite part is the way he delivers, "But you're Gazimon!" as if it's abnormal for Gazimon to behave this way.

Back in the village, the kids confer about the disappearances, but one person hasn't shown up to regroup.

Koushiro: Tokomon is still a baby, so he shouldn't have been able to go far.... Taichi: He's late... Where is Agumon searching?

Which the dub plays straight.

Back in the cave, the two Gazimon nail Agumon with their Paralyze Breath. He collapses to the ground, seeming to lose muscle control as we've been told the attack does.

Koromon 1: Two against one isn't fair! Koromon 2: You've got this, Agumon! Agumon: Taichi... let me evolve.... Gazimon: It's useless! No one outside can hear you! Agumon: Damn, if only this waterfall wasn't here... Waterfall... That's it!

The dub calls the Gazimon's move "Electric Stun Blast". Otherwise this is unchanged.

Suddenly, Agumon stands up again and lets off a Baby Flame. The Gazimon sidestep his shot, but he wasn't aiming for him; He hits the waterfall behind them. Then he shoots another Baby Flame. And another. Letting off shot after shot while the Gazimon ridicule him for his bad aim. Sending up steam into the air, which Taichi sees and points out from his scouting position with his mini-telescope.

Seeing the steam in the distance, the kids decide Tokomon must be over there. This sends the Pagumon into a panic.

Taichi: That's weird.... Yamato: What do you see, Taichi? Taichi: (points) I see smoke over there. Jou: What's that? Takeru: It's Tokomon! (All of the Pagumon collectively flinch) Pagumon 1: That can't be true! We just searched that waterfall! Pagumon Group: WE SEARCHED!!! WE SEARCHED!!! Koushiro: But he might have shown up after you finished searching. Taichi: I'll go take a look. Pagumon Group: YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!! Sora: Why not? We're just taking a look. Pagumon: Uhh... Because....

Suddenly, Mimi lets out a horrified scream, pulling everyone's attention away from the rising steam.

Somehow a Botamon has made its way into Mimi's lap.

Mimi: W-What is this thing!? Tentomon: It's a Botamon. Palmon: How would a Botamon be here? Yamato: What do you mean? Gabumon: Botamon is the Digimon that evolves into Koromon. There shouldn't be one in a Pagumon village. Taichi: Then this place is really....

The Pagumon launch into a reprise of their Welcome song, welcoming the kids to Not the Pagumon Village while scurrying away.

Over in the dub:

Mimi: Eww, what is this thing!? Tentomon: It's a Botamon. Palmon: Why would there be a Botamon here? Yamato: What do you mean? Gabumon: Botamon is the small egg form that Digivolves into Koromon and then into Agumon. Taichi: Then the Pagumon lied to us!

The only noteworthy thing is that Gabumon calls Botamon a "small egg form", which is an odd choice of descriptors, and adds that Koromon evolves into Agumon. Technically, due to branching evolution paths, not necessarily always the case. But it's not wrong either, and branching evolutions aren't a thing that's been introduced to the show anyways.

Yet.

Putting those soccer legs to work, Taichi sprints full-speed to the waterfall cave. He arrives much sooner than the rest of his group and their various levels of athleticism, giving Agumon what he needs to fight.

(Sometimes it's nice to sit back and appreciate how big Adult-stage Digimon are. Good news is that the rushing sounds of the waterfall will drown out the Gazimon pissing themselves.)

Sweeping the Gazimon into the river with a single shot of Mega Flame, Greymon quickly puts an end to this. The kids enter the cage, releasing Tokomon and the Koromon from their cages.

Takeru: Thank goodness you're safe! Tokomon: I'm sorry for worrying you, Takeru!

The dub calls back to Tokomon's recent reincarnation.

T.K.: Tokomon! I thought I lost you again! Tokomon: I'm like a boomerang; I keep coming back!

Aww, that's sweet. So far, the original's been unclear about whether Tokomon remembers his past life with Takeru or not. We haven't spent enough time with him yet to know. But the dub's putting it all up-front that this is the same guy and he was just resting. He speaks in longer and more complicated sentences, and now he's quipping about his revival.

But then an ominous voice calls out over loudspeaker.

Etemon: Chosen Children, can you hear me? Koromon Group: IT'S ETEMON!!! Etemon: How dare you make a fool of me!? Since you pissed me off, I'm going to destroy everything in this village! Taichi: Everything in the village!? Koushiro: There's no way he can do that!

In the dub:

Etemon: You measly little DigiDestined humans, thank-you-very-much! Hello! Koromon Group: IT'S ETEMON!!! OH NO!!! Etemon: You little bratty kids messed up all my big, beautiful plans so now I'm gonna have to punish you all by playing a little number that I just wrote. It's called "Wrecking the Whole Place". Taichi: "Wrecking the Whole Place"!? Izzy: Do you think he can actually do that?

What, play the song? Sure, he seems talented eno-- OH, you mean, can he wreck the place? Dunno. We just met him right now, and the nature of his threat's a bit harder to follow than when he said in no uncertain terms, "I'm going to destroy this village."

Etemon puts his Dark Network where his mouth is, raising cables from the ground to form a network in the sky above the Koromon village.

The Network sends jolts of destructive energy down into the various huts, obliterating them one by one. In the original, he simply calls out "Dark Network!" to summon the cables, but the dub calls it Dark Network Concert Crush.

The Digimon evolve to resist Etemon, but he's ready for them.

Etemon: I won't let you do that! LOVE SERENADE!!!

Jamming on his guitar, Etemon plays a killer beat that forces the Digimon back into their Child-states. As long as he's playing his Love Serenade, evolution is impossible.

In the dub:

Etemon: Well, you say you want a Digivolution? Guess what, the answer's ~noooooo! Dark Network Concert Crush!

I guess this, too, is Dark Network Concert Crush. Versatile move, that.

Taichi: What's wrong with you guys!? Agumon: I-I can't feel any power! Tentomon: His Love Serenade drains you of your abililty to fight! Koushiro: Is there any other way to fight against him? Tentomon: Not while we're in this state. If we could evolve to a higher level.... Yamato: If Garurumon evolved to a higher level, it would be possible? Sora: So this is why Gennai-san told us to find the Tags and Crests. Jou: It's too late to realize that now!

Tentomon speculates that evolving to Perfect-stage would give them the ability to fight back against Love Serenade, but as Jou points out, it's a little late to start looking for Crests now.

The dub needs to squeeze a commercial break here, so they cut up the footage just a bit. The commercial lands after Tai's initial line, at which point they splice in footage of Etemon's Concert Crush to re-establish context upon return.

Tai: Something strange is going on! (Commercial) Etemon: Dark Network, YEAH!!! (A bolt of dark energy blasts the river just outside the cave) Agumon: Concert Crush took our power! Tentomon: Does rock and roll have that effect in your world? Sora: Only on our parents. Izzy: So there's no way for us to fight this monster? Tentomon: As we are? No. If only we could Digivolve a step further. Matt: A step further? Sora: That must be what Gennai was referring to when he told us about finding the Crests and Tags! Joe: I think it's just a little late for that now, Sora.

Nice rock & roll quip, Sora. Hahaha we're going to die in here.

Out of options, the Koromon lead the kids deeper into the cave. Unfortunately, they run right into a dead end.

Taichi: What's this? Koromon: There's a legend that says if anything were to happen to our village, we should escape from here!

In the dub, it's more of a hidey-hole.

Taichi: Huh!? What's this? Koromon: This is a safe place where we hide when anything bad happens to our village!

Oh, y'all get attacked a lot, I take it?

This wall presents a problem for our escape. Fortunately, Taichi's Tag begins to react to it. A bright orange light surrounds everyone, and the wall with the symbol shrinks, forming into a Crest to slot into Taichi's Tag.

Taichi: This is a Crest! Yamato: What? Taichi: I have a Crest! Yamato: Alright!

The dub delivers the same idea, but is slightly awkward in its delivery.

Tai: I think I know what this is! Matt: Okay, what? Tai: A Crest! Sora: A Crest? Tai: Exactly! Now we've got a Crest! Matt: How awesome!

The way Tai delivers "Now we've got a Crest!" makes it sound like Etemon's drowning in Crests and we're just now picking up our first to even the playing field. We are, and it is to even the playing field, but not because we're trying to match Etemon in Crest count.

Not only do we acquire a Crest, but when the glow recedes, we're in a different cave entirely.

Jou: Th-This is.... Koromon: We're in the mountains far, far away from where our village is. Jou: Then we're saved! Yamato: Looks that way. Mimi: I'm so glad! Taichi: A Crest... I finally have one! As long as I have this, Etemon is no threat at all!

Careful of that cockiness, Taichi. It might lead you into trouble.

In the dub:

Joe: ...didn't this used to be a wall? Koromon: Yeah, but the Crest must have brought us here! These mountains are a long way from our village! Joe: Alright! Frequent flier miles! Matt: This place is the bomb! Mimi: It's beautiful! Tai: Hmm... With this Crest, we can do anything we want! You know, guys, I think this is the first step on our trip home!

I like how Tai is overselling the Crest's capabilities but in a completely different way. Ironically, he'll actually be right about that prediction while Taichi's in for a rude awakening.

This is the second time frequent flier miles have been brought up. These preteens care an awful lot about thrifty cross-country transit. It's almost like middle-aged adults are writing their dialogue or something.

(Back in the 90's, frequent flier miles were all over cartoons and sitcoms. Writers were certain that worrying about thrifty cross-country transit was a universal concern. I knew that frequent flier miles were desirable before I even knew what planes were.)

However, as the kids discuss their newfound safety, a cable of Etemon's Dark Network feeds their location back to Etemon's trailer.

Gazimon: AUGH!!! Etemon-sama, the Chosen Children-- Etemon: The Chosen Children have been torn to pieces by now. Gazimon: They were suddenly sent somewhere else. Etemon: WHAT!?!? (Etemon turns and looks at the map) Etemon: You're right... How strange to see them over there. I'll need to stay on my guard with these children. But that's what makes defeating them worthwhile!

Etemon is surprisingly chill about the kids' teleportation. At least, after the initial shock, anyways.

In the dub:

Gazimon: Um, Etemon? About the human children-- Etemon: Yes, little bunny, trapping them all in that cave is more fun than learning how to lip sync! Gazimon: Maybe not, boss; They're missing! Etemon: HOW COULD YOU LOSE THEM!?!? Let me see! (Etemon turns and looks at the map) Etemon: They got away! This bunch is a whole lot more clever than I thought they were. I'm gonna have to think about this one, then defeatin' those kids is gonna earn me a standin' ovation!

Etemon was trying to blast them into bits and pieces? Nuh nuh nuh, the plan was to trap them in the cave the whole time. Nobody ever went in after them and it's not like there's any bars to prevent them from leaving, but he's still shocked they left the cave.

We close here, with Etemon plotting his next move against the Chosen Children while they flee into the mountains of Server. Both Etemon and Taichi anticipating a chance to meet again.

Assessment: This is a strong intro for Etemon. Like Devimon and the mansion trick, Etemon is given a powerful introduction to set him up as a force to be reckoned with. He brings tremendous peril to the table, which the kids only narrowly escape with their lives.

There but for the grace of Whamon, he would have had them. He nearly did anyway; Much of the back half of this epsiode is spent showing off what his pet project the Dark Network can do. Its effects are creatively distinct from Devimon's Black Gears, and menacing in a variety of ways.

And yet Etemon himself is a lovable goofball. Rather than trying to match Devimon in calculating chessmaster menace, Etemon keeps things light and fun. He's a silly villain with big reactions who is no less threatening for it, and he makes this section of the show a lot of fun.

The dub, unfortunately, cuts a lot of the Why's in this episode. Context is being stripped away left and right from various scenes which is a hard negative. Their jokes are hit-or-miss, but there's a higher saturation of jokes that work than ones that don't. And Etemon... is Etemon. So the dub of this one is lesser, but entertainingly so.

[tyrantisterror]

Early Wizard School Mysteries Concept Art Pt. 1: 2017 & 2018

Wizard School Mysteries Book 3: Wicked Witchcraft has been available for purchase in paperback and kindle editions for about a week now, and to do my due diligence as this series' author, editor, and marketing executive, I've gotta make a post about it to annoy you all with so that maybe more people read it and build up a bigger audience for the next one.

So! To accomplish that in a way I find palatable, I've dug up some very old concept art for the series, and am going to parade it out for your enjoyment! Come, look upon my old art and despair be inspired to buy my books!

We're going to start with the earliest sketches I could find, which is from 2017. I kind of adore how ridiculously enormous I made James's hat in this early sketch - it's so huge that he actually has a strap to keep it on his head (look close, you can see it!). His design has a lot of touches from Wizardmon that didn't make it to the final product, namely the abundance of stitches and false faces on his outfit. He's also got a sort of ascot which I'm pretty sure is an homage to Fred from Scooby Doo, because he's in the same role as Fred in our Mystery Solving Teens group. Jesus, that's a big hat.

2017 Ivan doesn't seem too different on a surface glance, though his outfit feels too clean/new to me. It looks nice, but doesn't convey a lot of his character to me.

Ew, 2017 Gretchen, why are you white? Well, ok, the clear answer is because you're just Wizard Velma Dinkley at this point, but hey, at least you've got your iconic scarf!

Jesus Crumbs, I really did not give my human characters enough skull above the eyes to contain a proper brain, did I? A lot of Margot's key visuals are still present here - the gauntlet, the high collar, the partially armored boots - but just, you know, a bit worse, a bit less uniquely designed. She's called Joan at this point because hey, it's from 2017, when the author who everyone associated with wizard schools whose first name happens to be Joanne hadn't gone fully mask off about being a TERF yet, and I could name a wizard character I like "Joan" without worrying that people might think it's a reference to said writer (when it was intended as a reference to Joan of Arc instead).

2017 Rodrigo is pretty recognizable, actually. Kinda weird to me that I had his look pinned down so early compared to the others - though his staff here definitely doesn't fit his status as the most well-off wizard of the bunch, so I can see why I changed it to something more sleek later.

By contrast, 2017 Serena is basically a completely different character on every level. No magical girl trappings, no pigtails, I don't think she was even Asian yet. The name "Cerrigwen" had been given to at least one other character I ended up scrapping for a different project before this, and I'd thought I found a home for it here, but obviously not (though a Cerrigwen did get mentioned as a historical important wizard in WSM Book 2, so maybe I'll find a story for her eventually). Serena's role in the Mystery Solving Teens dynamic is "the weird one," but for whatever reason I wrote "the Joy and the Laughter" here instead. I do think Serena's personality is shining from this design, even if none of the actual details are recognizable - the manic bubbliness here would carry on in all future designs.

Charlotte also looks recognizable at first glance, and I think in some ways she's more explicitly monstrous/nonhuman here. I don't know if that's to her benefit, though? The gangly limbs feel very awkward, like they don't quite fit her frame, and her face is a bit too inexpressive (also holy shit that hat is hilariously too small, it's the opposite of 2017 James's hat). I like the hairy feet and fingers, but it does kinda bog down her design with unnecessary detail.

Holy Christ 2017 Polybeus, you're a fucking nightmare. What's going on with your face? And why are you so skinny? Why are all these people so goddamn skinny?

Let's move to the next year, I don't like looking at this guy. He looks like he'd be voiced by Pauly Shore or Andy Dick. Awful.

2018 James takes the 2017 design and refines it a bit - still has the ascot, has even MORE Wizardmon style false faces and stitches, still has the enormous hat, just all tightened up a bit. I think the problem with this look comes through when comparing the polished design with the sketches I abandoned halfway through above it - namely, the freaky Wizardmon look just doesn't fit with the quiet, deep-thinking personality James is supposed to exude. It looks rad as hell, yes, but it's flashy and chaotic in an attention-claiming way, which doesn't fit James's analytical nature. Good design elements that just didn't fit the character they were slapped onto.

2018 Ivan is also a refinement of his 2017 self, and I like his wacky little pose here - it really communicates his accident prone nature. But he still feels too polished, the outfit can be pushed farther.

Gretchen's looking a bit more like herself now - she's got more layers draping over her body, longer hair to cover her face, and the little tassels on the end of her scarf. Is she still white, or was I just a coward who thought I could just give her a dark skin tone while still drawing her with a straight bob cut and call it good? Not sure.

Margot's getting closer to her current self too - slightly longer face and nose, a bun where her pony tail will eventually go, and I think she's got broader shoulders than her first design? The gauntlet still doesn't feel like it's got the right personality but it's a bit more unique than the first take, and that's progress.

The only big differences I see with 2018 Rodrigo and his current self - beyond the fact that I got better at drawing humans (still not enough room in this drawing's cranium for a human brain) - is that I kinda toned him down from here. This Rodrigo's more or less his current self, but more flamboyant.

Alright, Serena's definitely Asian here, and her costume feels more distinct than her 2017 self, but still doesn't really match her personality. I definitely wanted her outfit to showcase her energetic nature, but the big bulky layers just don't fit. She needs bows and ribbons!

Ok, Charlotte's coming together better too! Still a bit too awkardly gangly, but her face is getting that sweet, friendly look a bit better.

oh thank god

2018 Polybeus is such an upgrade. His outfit's pretty close to what he'd end with, and he's beginning to get that onion-esque hairdo his modern self has, although here it's a bit more like devil horns, befitting his status as an antagonist-turned-ally. Still too thin, though, you gotta start weight training Poly!

That's it for part 1! Next we're skipping to 2020, because for whatever reason I don't have any sketches from 2019.

[thylacines-toybox]

i love love love love the chimera character in your icon!! did you make them? if you did, do youve detail pics and/or wip pictures? i really want to make / modify a sensory plush for myself so i love the addition of things like the teether tail and would love to see all the little beastie's features and learn more about them if youre ok with sharing!! and in general, do you ever post WIPs or tips abt sewing?? thanks for your time and sharing your amazing work with us!

First off, yes I do have a few bits and pieces of sewing advice in my plushie advice tag! There could always be more, though…

I’m glad you enjoy my chimera, I love him too! He was such fun to make and come up with all the babyish details for, and I’m very proud of him.

I don’t really have wip pics of the chimera (since I was kind of in The Zone making him) but I can take you on a, uh, short tour of his features, that sounds fun!

The baby boy himself… lots of pictures and words under the cut!

Here are the first doodles of him as I came up with his design! I was trying to make a cute lion/lamb (the meanings of the two parts of my irl name!) which is basically a chimera already, and the combination of primary colours, rainbows, and a cloud-like wool mane made the weather theme just happen.

Obviously I just had to sew this! He already looked just like a colourful baby toy.

Here is his lovely little face. I took style inspiration from a lion toy I had already, and to keep him accurate to a baby-toy style, I used embroidery stitches to make his face rather than any “choking hazards” like plastic eyes. I’ve not really used embroidery before so it was pretty hard to do neatly!

He’s also got ribbon loops for whiskers (or are they sun rays?) and you can also see a bit of star-textured minky fabric on his face and ears. Fun textures are important!

His mane is made with a super soft and fluffy fur fabric. Maybe not strictly “baby safe” since it can slightly shed fibres, but it’s very nice, and I’m not exactly a real baby lol. His horns have a nice ridged texture, you’ll see what those were made from in a moment…

Oh, I also added a banana scent chip from Build-a-Bear into his little head, because I love that smell. He’s a multi-sensory plush alright.

His front paws have some noises in them! In the red one is a squeaker, and the blue one is a rattle. You can buy these especially for putting in toys, but the rattle I used in him was actually just a little plastic capsule with a few beads inside like pictured!

All four paws have a bumpy rubbery texture on them. Rather appropriately, they are made from actual baby socks! I found a multipack of different colours that matched my planned colours perfectly by sheer luck.

The ridged horn material came from the top of the red sock!

Here is the tummy, also made with a star textured fabric. It has a cylindrical chime inside which makes a lovely musical jingling sound when he’s tipped around.

While bean filling probably isn’t baby safe either, I did put a beanbag in his bottom because I like a bit of weight and it helps him sit nice.

The wings have matching dimple textured minky on one side and smooth minky on the other. I feel like dimple minky is a must if you want to make a babyish toy!

Inside the wings are some pieces of (clean) cereal packet to give them a light crinkle sound. You can buy crinkly material especially for this too, which can be a lot noisier! He’s actually very quiet as crinkly toys go, but I’m okay with this.

He’s got some little raindrop patches made from dotty cotton, with more embroidered edges which I recall having a lot of difficulty with… looks good though! As well as textures, you gotta include some fun visual patterns in a baby toy too.

And finally, the tail! A thick rainbow ribbon holding a cloud shaped teether - another lucky find in a baby shop! It came attached to a squeaky sun and crinkly rainbow, currently held by another toy.

Originally I’d simply stitched the end of the ribbon in place around the teether, but then I got some plastic snaps (for making bandanas with!) and found they gave it a much nicer finish.

And that’s about it! Hope you enjoyed getting to know the little chimera and his features!

[stupid-and-cute-are-enough]

it WAS 1:30 am and now i've got finals in mere hours so obviously this is how i should be spending my time. behold: screaming and crying publicly over @get-rammed's montgomery gator doodles

starting off STRONG with this beauty:

THE FULL-BODY HUG???? THE SKIN ON SKIN CONTACT??? one thing you MUST know about me is that i am WEAK for when the bigger partner wraps themselves around their s/o WEAK I SAY

(also monty's nose????? it's absolutely darling and so perfect for his lil face)

KEEPING ON THEME WITH WERE-MONTY

specifically the face................ he looks so dejected...................so tired................ so sad...................baby has had a ROUGH night and i desperately want them to be better 😭😭😭 (the HAND HOLD???? THE TEAR STAINS??? AUGHH)

we already KNOW how i feel about this one after all i'm that motherfucker who was so consumed by this doodle that i asked ram if i could clean it up and otherwise go insane over it we already KNOW that this doodle has me on my fucking KNEES

again THE FULL BODY HOLD??????? THE SAD EYES???? HE HOLDS ONTO THEM LIKE THEYRE SOMETHING PRECIOUS 😭 monty is trapped in a life he pretty much hates and they've gotta be one of his only sources of comfort 😭😭😭😭 i imagine the anon has to pull wayyy more hours once monty becomes a glamrock so they're constantly exhausted but desperately wants to be there for their struggling friend and vice versa for monty (and how pissed monty must get w/the virus bc why the fuck should he feel bad for them when it's HIS life that got screwed over?)

everything i just said applies to this one too except with more melancholy bc it feels like when you have to wait for your loved one to fall asleep so you can slip away quietly (but, of course, monty is holding on, so he'll be disappointed sooner rather than later)

:(

MOVING FUCKING ON TO THIS NEXT ONE OHHHH MY GOD YOU GUYS PREPARE YOURSELF

THE SNOOT RUBS???? THE HAND ON ANON'S CHEST???? THE BLUSH????? THE WAY HE RUFFLES HOW OWN HAIR 😭😭 GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO BEAT UP MR. FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT HIMSELF GIVE MONTY HIS HAIR BACK!!!!!!

but seriously this one is just SO cute 😭 gator golf monty were such simpler times and it DESTROYS me knowing where they go from here :( ik both of them heal together in the end but they hurt so much between those two points AUGHH THEY DONT DESERVE IT 😭😭

GOING BACK TO WERE-MONTY

THE SHIRT??? THE SKIN-ON-SKIN CONTACT???? literally what else is there to say i rest my case moving on

THE CASUAL INTIMACY????? THE SKIN ON SKIN????? THE ANONS SILLY LIL SMILE AND ALL THE LOVE BITES?? look im down bad for monty as much as everyone else here but good LORD there's something so tender about non-sexual touch (esp with minimal clothing) 😭😭 its so special to me............. they're so happy to have each other i am ILL

iconic

SCREAMING AND CRYING THEY'RE SO SILLY TOGETHER!!!! LET THEM BE SILLY AGAIN THEY DESERVE IT!!!!

look at them they're up to MISCHIEF they're up to NO GOOD <3 and freddy is RAPIDLY APPROACHING (side note SWEETS??? 😭😭 i love all of monty's nicknames but something about "sweets" makes me AUGH................. it's so cute...............)

BONUS:

MORGAN <333333 WHAT A MASSIVE W TO TRANS-MASCS EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wouldn't wanna be represented by ANYONE else

feddy <3

last but not least the comment i left (with my user and pfp blocked out bc you don't get to know me like that) on part one of project starlight that strikes fear into me to this very day. ignore my spelling mistakes i was going through it

i would've also grabbed a screenshot of the monty plush bc i feel special every time i look at one bc ram thought my comic was cool and it instantly became a core memory but this post has taken LONG ENOUGH!!! SLAP A SHIPPING LABEL ON THIS BITCH AND SEND IT OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[littlestsnicket]

I thought his S2 hair was his real hair, too, for some reason.

Actually, no, that's not quite accurate.

I initially thought BOTH his S2 and S3 hair were wigs, because that's what everyone kept saying.

And so, the moment Joey corrected, in a S3 interview, that his long hair was his real hair, I automatically assumed that meant that his S2 hair was his real hair, too (if people had been wrong about it having been a wig in S3, why not S2?).

Because his hair in S2 interviews appears to be just a bit longer than it is in S2 (not quite S3 long, but getting there...).

So, I'd assumed he'd let his hair grow out between S1 and S3; and he'd cut it after they'd finished filming "Blood Origin" (so thankfully, that wouldn't have been because of the negative feedback he'd received about his hair in S3, since it was back to being short during "Blood Origin" interviews. I think he'd said something about it just being really hot and essentially bothering him).

Did Joey ever confirm his S2 hair was a wig? Or that's just what people have all been assuming?

And OMFG! YES!!! That jacket is so freaking iconic! It's gotta stay!

By now, it's like the character's uniform, or his unique signature look or something!

Mind you, I'm not opposed to the idea of Jaskier having another secondary outfit he alternates with in S4 and S5, and/or wearing something a bit different under his jacket (S2 and S3 had different shirts and vests, but kept the same style).

Plus, he could find himself wearing something completely different at some point, if the goal is for him to attempt to avoid being too easily recognized / spotted (the jacket makes it really easy for him to be identified) for a little while.

But that jacket needs to remain Jaskier's go to, default look, because it's that awesome!

joey has definitely talked about wearing a wig for season 2, growing his hair out for season 3 because he hated wearing a wig, and cutting his hair off immediately after they finished filming season 3 because having hair that is touching your neck but not long enough to put up is gross when it's really hot out (and yeah, i relate, there are numerous reasons why i am happiest with a pixie cut or past shoulder length hair). (and joey's bit of blood origin was filmed during season 3.)

i think it gets a bit confusing because lots of people don't realize how long post production takes, and therefore how long the gap between filming and the press interviews are. for the season 2 press tour, joey would have been well into growing his hair out for season 3 already. and you can see he had short hair in all of the behind the scenes stuff they filmed during season 2. (there's also a moment in the behind the scenes stuff for season 3, where there's a bunch of shots of joey recording songs and he's wearing the same sweater in all of them but in half of them he's already cut his hair... that may make me sound insane that i noticed this but oh well.)

i'm not really sure why people were saying joey was wearing a wig in season 3... it got passed around so much before the show came out that i assumed that for a bit as well, but i honestly think it's just trendy to hate on wigs right now, and most people have no idea what they are talking about. but also, joey's hair looks nearly as dark as anya's in the season 2 press tour, so it looks like it's the wrong color, but i should not have been fooled by that since my own hair ranges from quite dark brown to nearly blond depending on lighting, sun exposure, and how clean it is :)

and yes! the jacket! it is so iconic!

i, personally, love when characters have uniforms. not necessarily the same exact clothes all the time, but iconic items or a color scheme they stick to... i am here for it. i think for his character, it doesn't make a lot of sense for jaskier to be carting around an extra jacket, or many clothes. he would definitely buy or steal a new one for a special occasion of if he needed to hide his identity, but our bard is itinerant and travels light especially when he doesn't have geralt to carry things (or maybe more importantly keep track of the things, but that it leaning a lot more into headcanon now) for him.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Five.

Well, my lovely darlings, since you all seemed so happy to have two updates in one week, I thought we might do this going forward? It'll get the story rolling a little, but if you'd prefer one then please do tell me. It's completely up to you! I hate to feel like I'm bombarding people and want everyone to take their time with reading, but if you are set to devour, then I can make this happen for you since I am almost finished writing it now :) As always, thank you so much for reading, reblogging and reviewing.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four

Words - 3,164

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters.

“Mm, nah. Not yet.” His hand reached out, haphazardly swatting at the screen of his phone until the snooze icon was tapped, Guero needing at least ten more minutes. Then maybe another ten after that. By his own admission, unless it involved either good coffee or sex, he was not much of a morning person at all.  

After twenty minutes of snoozing, he finally got up, pulling on a pair of sweats and hunting around for some clean boxers. “Gotta do laundry, gotta go to the market, gotta actually be a proper fucking adult.” he muttered to himself, finding a pair of black Calvins in the drawer, picking up his jeans and a fresh, white t shirt.  

Looking over the back of the sofa, he saw the heartwarming sight of Emma and Axl curled up together, his dog’s head rested right below her chin. Pitties; they truly loved to snuggle. After taking a shower, though, he entered the kitchen to find the large dog sat at the back door, tail wagging expectantly. Emma slept on.  

After feeding himself and Axl, he felt at somewhat of an impasse over what to do, knowing he had a full day ahead of him with the club, but not really wanting to leave Emma alone either, just in case she panicked. Also, from how much he hated it when someone disturbed him, he didn’t want to wake her. Plus, she needed her rest. 

He wrestled with it for a while before making a decision, writing her a note he left on the coffee table with a key and a stack of bills, departing quietly.  

It was 12pm before she woke from a long, deep sleep, reaching to stroke Axl, who had stationed himself next to the couch. “Guero?” she called into the emptiness of the house, sitting up quickly, feeling a little scared when it appeared she was there alone. Her eyes located the note upon the table, taking it and feeling calmer as she began to read.  

Hey Emma, 

You were still sleeping when I left, didn’t wanna wake you up. If you wanna come down the yard, I’ve left the number of a local cab company at the bottom, as well as my cell and Lee’s. She won’t mind if you wanna hang out with her, I’ll be back and forth from there most of the day. Go ask Tyrone next door, he’ll let you borrow his cell. He's cool, you don’t need to be scared of him. 

Left you some cash in case you wanna go out and buy anything you might need, I dunno, any stuff that I don’t have here. If you feel up to it, that is. Take Axl with you, a hundred and ten-pound pittie is the best bodyguard you’ll ever have if you feel freaked out about leaving the house. If you head out of here and turn left onto La Brea, then walk down to the crossroads and turn right, there’s a little strip mall. Isn't much, but there’s a few stores there. Left a spare key for you, too. 

If you wanna just stay home then no problem, I’ll be back late probably. Gimme a call if you need me, though.  

She smiled as she placed the note back, thinking how lucky she was to have ended up there. He was a good guy, becoming more and more trustworthy to her with every kind action that passed. She felt nervous about the idea of going to the yard, although he’d said Lee would be there and she trusted that she was a good person, too, sitting and thinking for a few moments before going to the bathroom. Axl followed.  

She hadn’t paid much mind to it since her arrival, other than noting it could definitely benefit from a good, deep clean. Looking around the space in daylight, though, her notion was solidified. Something to do, yes. This was what she needed to pacify herself, hunting in the cupboards to locate the necessary items.  

A tour of the house revealed he had very little in the way of cleaning products, only packets of antibacterial and furniture polish wipes. At least he had a vacuum. A brief look outside yielded the discovery of a lawnmower and a few gardening tools in a small lean-to, Emma heaving them out, ready for later that afternoon.  

She felt a plan forming.  

Being purposeful had been pretty much her entire life, it was what she was used to, what made her feel settled, to make someone happy with her efforts. Taking the key, she left the cash where it was, not wanting to take his money. She had enough of that, liberating a very large wedge of it prior to her departure from New York.  

Taking the stacks of bills from her backpack, she hid them beneath the couch, thinking it risky to leave with that much money, just in case, tucking enough into her pocket while glancing around.  

“Okay, where’s your leash, Axl?” she muttered, the dog suddenly springing to his feet, jogging into the kitchen. He returned with a long, brown leather leash, holding it proudly in his mouth, tail wagging as he dropped it at her feet and then sat obediently, tail wagging rapidly. “Oh, you’re such a good boy, yes, little sir.” She clipped it onto the bottom link of the large chain he wore around his neck, picking up the key and swinging her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave.  

When she opened the front door, though, her feet planted, Axl jumping out, turning to sit upon the welcome mat at the other side, viewing her questioningly. Her entire body froze, the individual fibres of her muscles all tightening in protest, fear filling her chest. She felt as if each of her ribs were tightening, tension tinkling from one to the next, as if her fear was playing some kind of haunting melody, her very bones the xylophone.  

“Outside bad. No safe person. You can’t go out there.” 

It was a big voice to ignore, her natural instinct to remain within the abode that housed her or suffer the consequences. Such had changed greatly since she’d switched east coast for west, but the fear remained fundamental. Breathing deeply, she rocked on her heels, closing her eyes as she attempted to steady her irrational thoughts.  

“You can do this. There’s no mafia in Santo Padre. Nobody knows your face here. Come on, you can leave the house. It’s all behind you now.” Her mouth dried up as she swallowed hard, her heart thundering in her chest, taking another deep breath and stepping out, turning to shut and lock the door behind her.  

“Hey boo, headin’ for a dog walk, huh?”  

She soul almost departed her body at the sudden boom, looking to see the curtains moved, Tyrone sticking his head from the window next door. “He’s just being friendly, it’s okay.” she muttered, taking cautious steps down the driveway, waving as the huge man came better into her view. “Yeah, yeah nice and sunny.”  

“S’beautiful day! You and giant puppy have fun, baby. Later!” 

“Later.” she parroted quietly, tightening her grip on Axl’s leash, walking slowly to the sidewalk. With every step, she felt her fear thickening, trying to talk herself down from it, her breaths shaky. “He doesn’t have a clue where you are. You did it right this time. There’s no way he’ll ever track you down to here.” The street was quiet, at least, no people walking on it, Emma feeling herself begin to calm with every step she took.  

Still, she couldn’t help but keep on looking over her shoulder, her body priming itself to run, although she knew she likely wouldn’t get far. She was much too weak for exertion, suddenly panicking that she was leaving the house on zero energy reserves, worrying if she fainted and had nobody there to help her. Safe person was not around, after all. All she had was his dog. 

When La Brea came into view quicker than she expected, she felt relief, especially when the right turn she had to take wasn’t far either, hitting the location of the strip mall sooner than anticipated. There was a convenience store, a little store that seemed to sell a bit of everything, clothes too, fortunately, a drugstore, a salon and a café. Café first, to sate her growling stomach.  

They had a few wooden tables and chairs outside, Emma hovering, not seeing anywhere she could tie up Axl securely, knowing she couldn’t take him inside. She was at indecision for a few moments before a friendly looking woman came out, proffering a menu forth.  

“I saw you had your doggie with you, thought I’d come to you,” she spoke, readying her small notepad and pen as Emma read the menu.  

“Um, can I get a vegetable omelette, toast, hash browns and an orange juice, please?” she asked meekly, drawing her shoulders up, clamping her lips together. 

“Sure can, mama. Take a seat, shan’t be long.” She bustled back inside, Emma seating herself at the table with the most shade, feeling her pale skin tingling under the bright sun. It was a little busier on the people front than her walk down there, her nerves skittering once more, especially when people stopped to pet Axl.  

“Yo, that dog is dope!” A guy who was almost ninety percent tattooed spoke as he approached, holding out his hand for Axl to sniff before scratching his head. “How old is he?” 

“Um, I-I don’t know. H-he belongs to my friend,” she stammered nervously, sliding her chair back as her hands tightened on Axl’s leash. The dog read the situation, picking up on her fear and shuffling back with her, sitting on her feet while letting out a small, low growl of warning.  

“Woah, he’s protective! Badass guard dog!” He smiled friendlily before continuing down the street, Emma letting out the breath she’d been holding, leaning to kiss the soft, velvety spot atop Axl’s head.  

“Thank you.” she whispered, scratching under his chin, Axl basking in her affection as he panted softly. Much to her delight, her food was with her quickly, Emma savouring every mouthful, leaving a few bills under the plate and continuing along.  

“Hey yo, that’s Guero’s dog, ain’t it? You his girl, babe?” a man lingering in the doorway of the convenience store asked her as she approached, standing out of the way. “I’m Khalid, this is my store. You can go inside with him, your guy does all the time.” 

“No. He’s uh, my f-friend.” she spoke shyly, entering the store, Khalid nodding before moving to behind the counter while she grabbed a basket and loaded up. Food, cleaning products, sponges, cloths, she filled up her basket, Khalid ringing it all up and taking a piece of jerky from the tub on the counter.  

“On me, for the big guy.” he said, nodding at Axl. She fed him his treat and paid, lifting her laden backpack onto her back before they continued on. The store that seemed to sell a little of everything luckily had most of what she needed, albeit all a little cheap in quality, it was better than nothing. She bought a couple of cotton dresses, some cut offs, t shirts, vest tops, flip flops and undies, moving along to the drugstore.  

Face wash, moisturiser, razors, soap, shampoo and conditioner, sunscreen, a hairbrush and some hair bands, as well as a box of tampons since her period was imminent, deodorant and some sweetly scented body mist were bought, her arms laden with bags, her backpack full to the brim. It was a good job she didn’t have far to walk back, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her, hurrying as fast as she could.  

Once back inside, she unclipped Axl’s leash, setting her load down and taking a seat on the couch, smiling to herself. She’d gone out alone, a brave move, she thought, bought what she needed, managed to talk to people, her fear just about under control.  

She had no idea if she’d come to call the town home, but it was a good first proper day there if nothing else. After everything she’d been through, she deserved a few good days to come her way. With the warmth of her accomplishment lighting a little fire beneath her, she used it as extra channelling to attack her tasks at hand with gusto. Not that she would undertake them with anything less. 

With Axl set up on the porch, lying on the smooth concrete with his water dish and toys close by, she began her first job, using the weed whacker to take the top off the long grass before attacking it with the mower. She’d just finished raking up everything when there was a familiar shout from the window.  

“Hey boo!” A large arm followed the even larger voice, Tyrone grasping a can of soda. “Come get a lil’ sip! Damned hot out there and you bustin’ a fuckin’ hump!”  

Placing the rake down, she ventured across, remembering Guero’s words in his note, about Tyrone being cool. He’d given no indication he was anything but to her either, seemingly a perfectly friendly man. She’d say harmless, but at his sheer size, she wouldn’t like to get on his wrong side.  

“Thanks, Tyrone.” Taking the can from him, she opened it, glugging back a few mouthfuls.  

“S’what’s your name? I might just keep on callin’ you boo, though. Annoy the hell outta fuckboy!”  

Supressing the urge to burp, she held her hand to her mouth. “Emma.”  

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Emma! An’ lemme tell you, girl. You an improvement on the last one he brought home!” he boomed, lighting up a large blunt as he shifted to get comfortable in his huge armchair. “Bitch looked like one of those Bratz dolls, one that got scribbled all over by a damned toddler with a Sharpie!”  

A fine spray of soda left her mouth, Emma feeling bad for finding that quite as funny as she did. “That’s a little cruel!”  

“No, it ain’t! Not to you, at least. You’re prettier, and you the upgrade, baby!” 

She didn’t correct him, thanking him for the soda before getting back to her task. Once everything was done, it was time to start the inside. Laundry first. Separating lights from darks, the lights went in first, Emma humming contentedly to herself. Just over an hour, which meant while she waited, she could get the kitchen deep cleaned. It wasn’t grubby, per se, but definitely what could be constituted as single man clean. 

Pulling on the rubber gloves she’d bought, she decided to start with the oven. The hobs were a little dusty, but other than that it was pristine. She guessed from lack of use if his statement that he feared poisoning her with pasta was anything to go by.  

Spraying the sink and draining board down, she got them sparkling, doing the dishes in the sink, looking around to check for a dishwasher. None found. It was a small kitchen, after all. She could see the downside in that it would take up more space than the utility of it offset. Once all counters and cupboards had been thoroughly cleaned, she began with the floor, shooing Axl back into the lounge and closing the door, not wanting him to taint his paws with disinfectant.  

The tiles were perhaps the worst part of the entire room, Emma working the brush in circles, the water hot against her hands even through the layer of yellow rubber. Pine-scented steam rose, each tile beginning to shed its film of dirt beneath her toil.  

“You better make sure every fuckin’ square inch of that floor is clean, or I’ll make you clean it again, with your goddamned toothbrush. You hear?” 

The rapid flash of the memory left almost as soon as it had arrived, yet Emma swore she could feel the press of his fingertips against her skull from when he’d held her face to the floor. A sharp intake of breath returned her truly, the flashback fading back to the dark recess of her brain from where it had been stirred, like a phantom cowering once more from the goodness of light.  

“It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.” Her repetition made it no truer in that part of her brain, though, deep within the crevice where the trauma lurked. While she was gone from Staten Island, her escape so far successful, her mind was still there, she realised, her chest working overtime to deliver air to her tightened lungs.  

A change of location might not so easily free the stranglehold upon her mind, she realised, so many years of acting a certain way, out of fear of punishment, or worse. Much worse. Hugging her knees to her chest, she rested her head on her forearms, waiting for the calm to seep through the bleak horizon of her turmoil. The dawn had to break eventually for her.  

Her cleaning continued, wiping up the water again with the aid of a large sponge, the whole place sparkling. After placing the white wash into the dryer, she put the darks in before moving onto the lounge. While making some kind of order out of the chaos in her mind might’ve been too far off yet, she certainly got stuck into turning the lounge into something resembling a semblance of organisation.  

A time for rest was taken, truly no rest at all since Axl danced in front of her, proffering a rope toy he wished to engage her with.  

“Oh, you want to play, huh? Little sir has designs on tug o’ war?” A rope muffled woof sounded, Emma grasping the other end, Axl bracing as he began to pull back. “Oooh, you furious beast! Listen to those big puppy growls, yes!” she enthused, snorting with laugher when a sudden yank sent her from a kneeling position to flat on the floor, Axl towing her along as she giggled. “Silly boy! Yes, you are!”  

Her antics with said silly boy ended, Axl moving instead to chew upon the large bone that honestly looked like an entire lower half of a cow’s leg, Emma returning to her tasks. Once finished, she sat down for a break, sipping on a milky coffee while watching an old episode of Full House. While laughing at the antics of the Tanner family, she looked around the space, only the bathroom and bedroom to tackle, feeling proud of her accomplishments so far. 

It might have been the routine she was used to, thus bringing her a feeling of soothing, but it was nice to do it because she wanted to for once, rather than it being required of her. It might not have been her home either, but she felt at home there, something she hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.  

[fifteenth-entity]

Arc Purgatory: The one (and only) major flaw of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies

-oh, hiii, just a note, this post is super uncleaned and kinda messy, you can see points where my ADHD patience wore off. sorry bout that, ill come up and clean later, for now, i gotta recharge-

I think I speak for most PotC enthusiasts when I say that the PotC trilogy (franchise? Wym theres more than three movies?) is one of the best written trilogies I’ve ever seen. Amazing choreography (they just don’t make swashbucklers like this anymore!!), amazing set and design, amazing writing, the comedy is peak, the world building is great shit, but by far, the best and most hooking part of the series is its characters!! You have the elusive trickster captain Jack Sparrow, you have the naive but headstrong and well-meaning Will Turner, the cunning and crafty Elizabeth Swann, and an array of amazing villains to boot! Barbossa and his excellent character arc, Davy Jones and his excellent character arc, the excellent dynamic between Commodore Norrington and Cutler Beckett and who being a villain when and why, the whole shtick. With how well the villains are written, it’s no surprise that a lot of them hold a spot in many fans’ top favorite characters - I’m no exception, Barbossa has always been a favorite of mine and upon a rewatch later on in life, Davy Jones is up there too. And while all of the characters are iconic, memorable and loveable (most times), Ive noticed a sort of… pattern in who places at the top of people’s favorite characters. Namely, I’ve seen the villains and Jack Sparrow. I’ve never seen Will or Elizabeth be explicitly placed high up, or higher than the villains/Jack  Sparrow. And even when I see Jack Sparrow be high up, I always see him be high up because he’s “iconic”, while I’ve seen the villains be high up because they’re “compelling”. That discrepancy really meant nothing to me when I rewatched the first two movies; they were, after all, an incomplete story. The third movie would bring it all together and cement these characters as excellent. Right? … Well… wrong. Now, before I go on, what I said before still stands. The trilogy is still impeccable in all the ways I’ve listed above. Great characters, plot, world building, choreography, score, cinematography… but there is only one area it falls short on: character development. But the peculiar thing is that it falls short only sometimes. So I wanna examine where it doesn’t fall short, where it does, and why I think so.

As previously stated, the character development falls short only sometimes. Where it absolutely doesn’t fall short is with the villains. For at least the first three movies (cuz i have not and refuse to rewatch 4 and 5), the villains have excellent, fully rounded character arcs, with memorable story beats. Barbossa going from bloodthristy merciless captain of the black pearl to hesitant co-captain of the black pearl, leaving behind his lonesome ways and instead choosing to make alliances if not for his own benefit. Davy Jones going from a terrifying force of power to blah blah blah, we've watched the movies, we remember what happens, we all get the gist. The villains have complete character arcs, they develop from one thing to another, either by way of actually becoming a decently better person and improving in some of their qualities, or by digging in their heels and dying as a consequence (or in Norrington’s case, becoming a better person but dying anyway because his narrative foil is cutler beckett and hell hath no fury like an 18th century british twink in a position of power). Even the side characters which are related to them have fully fleshed out character arcs of their own to complement them, namely Tia Dalma, who develops from a mysterious bogwitch to a lovestruck goddess. From this section, I want you readers to remember that the people who insofar have complete character arcs are the villains, who mostly switch up every movie. Now let’s talk about the lame ducks, shall we?

A few characters dont get any character development; namely, the side characters whose name you don’t really remember, or cannon fodder (i am counting Sao Feng as cannon fodder, I take no further questions at this time). However, there’s three other characters in the series that don’t get compelling character development and that’s the three protagonists. I’m gonna start with Will and Elizabeth; both of them do develop in a sense! They become more mature and more tolerant of piracy as they learn about the fallacies of the state. They are forced to mature rapidly thanks to their turbulent circumstances, namely as only-dubiously-pirates and only-dubiously-free and legally pronounced enemies of state unless cutler beckett decides otherwise. Thats a lot of Circumstance. No matter who you are as a person, that forces you to grow in one way or another. But let’s not forget that becoming pirate king and abandoning high society/abandoning citizenship and becoming an undead pirate are only half of Elizabeth and Will’s character arcs. Why do they get into this entire mess in the first place? Well, love! They love each other so much that they’d literally uproot their safety to be together, and the only thing keeping them apart is Circumstances™ . Naturally, this then means that their character arc would involve them triumphantly overcoming the circumstances and finally being together, either by abandoning pirate life or pilfering together as captains! Or alternatively, they discover it was never meant to be either by way of death or by departing tearfully. Yeah, neither happens. Instead they leave off movie 3 right back at square one; pining and yearning from a distance. But instead of the distance being lord vs peasant dynamics, it’s a time gap of 10 years. How is this any different from what the problem was 2 movies ago? This is their wrap up? Same circumstance with a different name and an outfit change? At best, this is incomplete. I can’t even count it as full circle if I wanted to; normally, here would be the beginning of a spin off or something, because this development is something penultimate. A darkest hour at best. Not a climax, and definitely not a conclusion; again, it is incomplete. And, sadly, the same can be said about Jack Sparrow. The movie goes out of its way to point out where Jack is flawed: he fears death so much that he refuses to see the pain and drawbacks of immortality, which leads him to do all his tomfoolery. Which is great character motivation! But it never changes. He is constantly afraid of his own mortality, so he will constantly hold himself back from going guns blasing, and it will always lead to him chasing the promise of immortality. Even when he sees what that does to Barbossa and Davy Jones, he digs his heels in and goes “la la la”. even when the plot of one of the movies was that he died. He died and came back to life. At this point, he has gone face to face with his greatest fear and come back a victor. But by the end of the movie, whatever happens, happens because he is still mortally afraid of death. Even after he comes back to life, people point out that all he wants is to be immortal, and he affirms that. So like… did the death… not happen? Because even if this is happening because Jack refuses to process it, then that gives us new motivation. And that’s not the only way for Jack to continue his adventures; one alternative could be that Jack, after conquering death, instead turns to life to see how he can maximize his limited fun, and starts pilfering and pirating to the nth degree, purely because of zero inhibitions. But instead like with Will and Elizabeth, with him, we are right back to square one.

So… why is this happening? Why are we having these fake character arcs for the protagonists? In most media and most cases, the answer is “because the writers suck” in one variety or another. Time constraints, budget constraints, bad writers, the works. But I firmly believe this is happening not because of the writers, but because of one mouse that keeps ruining everyone's fun.

(if i could add sound bytes, i would, but please imagine the intro song jingle thing of disney playing here)

Obviously we all know Disney; they want to milk their cash cows until the bitter end, which means that in order for that to happen, they need to keep an avenue open for Will and Elizabeth’s story in case they need to milk that for an extra buck, and obviously, Jack needs more motivation to keep doing his silliness. Now, as stated above, there are multiple ways for that to happen without keeping the same motivations that kept us going for 3 movies, but it has been proven time and time again that Disney will take the easy way out instead of the interesting (and potentially more costly) way out. Now, I refuse to watch star wars, so I cannot validate this point by myself, but according to a friend (thank you for your service @greetings-humans), when “somehow palpatine returned”, the franchise was owned by disney. Star wars fans, and even people with a brain, recognize how much of a cop out this is, and having seen the above cop outs happen in PotC, i am now firmly of the belief that the protags of PotC dont have character arcs because Disney believes this is the cheapest way of keeping the franchise going. This, btw, delightfully, ended up making disney shoot themselves in the foot; not only were movies 4 and 5 poorly received, but because of the way they were written, it wouldn’t make sense for any of the protagonists to suddenly have a change of motives and resume character development, which would be especially detrimental since we are talking about the PotC franchise; famously adored for its writing. They could mask the cash cow before, but now they cannot. So it’s no surprise that instead of continuing a story that is continuously shooting itself in the foot thanks to Disney’s executive decision to take the easy way out of creating a continuous cash cow, the 6th movie is rumored to be a remake of the first one.

But yeah, this is pretty much my analysis. I dont have much more to say. The key take away here is: write your own fanfics of the ending, or engage with the series however you like. I think if the series had different producers and was just left at a trilogy, then it would’ve been perfect. I don’t really have much more to say here;; this is pretty much it. I’m just glad that PotC’s one major flaw wasn’t due to incompetence and was due to the mouse being the mouse.

[rynekins]

Welcome, friends, to the Sideshow Bob Awards! Recently I did a few polls about certain elements of Sideshow Bob episodes, and now I shall give some commentary over the results!

Why did I do this? Eh, funsies, but I’ll always look for an excuse to ramble about Sideshow Bob.

First up is the Award for Humor. Which Sideshow Bob episode is the funniest? Black Widower makes Honorable Mention. While an important episode with a lot of notable moments, I might not personally rank it amongst the funniest. Though Bob’s dry wit (as always) wins me over, and Bart explaining Bob’s plan to Homer, worthy of a chuckle.

This overall ranking, out of all of the polls, I agree with the most. Sideshow Bob’s Last Gleaming has some stellar Bob moments: Bob on helium, mimicking the Colonel, his pathetic attempt to kill Krusty, and who could possibly forget the Air Show Rant.

“Air Show? Buzzzzzz-cut Alabamians spewing colored smoke from their whiz jets to the strains of Rock You Like a Hurricane? What kind of country-fried rube’s still impressed by that?!” As for the Air Show Rant, I am also giving it the Award for Best Quote. Unfortunately, this poll did not have much engagement. I expected people to be shy, and I suppose I should have made it a normal poll for people to vote on instead of asking for more direct input, but there are simply too many good Bob quotes to narrow it down! How could I possibly? I had not the strength. His exasperation with his peers, mocking elitist tone, the venom, the sass, the hip swaying and crossing of his feet, going wall eyed and throwing his arms out cuz he always gotta be extra, if there is a perfect Sideshow Bob quote that exemplifies his character it would be this one.

Aside from that, mocking the military and garbage television, this episode offers a ton of laughs, worthy of at least Third place.

Brother From Another Series takes Second, and has a different brand of humor, but the kind that always gets me. It’s supposedly written like an episode of Frasier, which means the script is chock full of one liners from two guys too smart for their own good, constantly trying to one-up eachother. You wonder how both Bob and Cecil could ever end up in Springfield, an environment of pure dumbassery, and it clearly has had an effect on them (they must have drunk the water). Personal favorite moments are the boys with the slack-jawed locals, “especially Lisa, but ESPECIALLY Bart”, and “utterly hopeless”.

To no one’s surprise Cape Feare takes the crown. It often makes top 10 lists for its humor alone, and with good reason. This episode is packed with jokes, funny drawings, and goofiness, with running gags so memorable and powerful that they would get callbacks even 30 years later. The idiocy is at an all time high, both with Homer and Bob, which frankly is necessary to balance out the more sinister and rather tense scenes. Homer scaring Bart, the rakes, the drive through the cactus patch, The Rakes, “Hello Mr Thompson”, THE RAKES. This episode is iconic, and I completely understand why.

Next up we have the Award for Animation. For our Honorable Mention, we have Bob’s official debut, Krusty Gets Busted. I’m glad to see some love for season 1, when everything was experimental especially with the animation. The linework, expressions, poses, models, colors, everything seems off by today’s standards, but you can see the effort and love put into it. There’s something beautiful about how rough it looks because you know what a struggle it was to make it work. And it does work. But I’m biased toward things that are hand drawn.

In Third for this category, the award goes to Gone Boy, the complete opposite of Krusty Gets Busted. We have the modern era, the clean colors, the characters staying on model, a lot of the stiffness that a lot of people don’t care for. However, there are moments that feel like a return to form in this episode. My eyes lit up when I saw Bob’s face as he encountered Milhouse. Then the dance he does as he sings is song-o. The wintery environment, a few ambitious angles, some great character acting. It’s proof that newer episodes have their beauty too. I only wish that the hallucination sequences went harder. Imagine, if you will, they suddenly went Courage the Cowardly Dog mode on you and changed mediums, turned into something more experimental and maybe truly nightmarish. This episode was great, but it could have been legendary. I am grateful for the feast we got. In Second, Black Widower returns, which dare I say has been robbed. Yes, I think it should have been First. This episode is gorgeous, but as I have established, I liked the earlier, rougher animation.

Every single frame of Bob’s rant on MacGyver is absolutely wild, as is the skipping through the flowers. The colors in the night scenes. The glow from the explosion. There’s so much character here, so many expressions and extra motions with hands in scenes, even when no one is talking. The weight in Bob’s hair when he throws back his head for a maniacal laugh. What this episode’s got is flair. Once again, Cape Feare takes First. I can see why, because it is a very good looking episode. One of the best. Oh, how I wish the show still looked like this (the latest Treehouse Ei8ht made me crave what we have lost). But I must wonder if it might be taking the number one spot because of how memorable it is with other factors. No doubt it’s funny, with a lot of well done and imaginative scenes. Bob’s lil dance during his work out comes out of nowhere and is hysterical. You think for a minute that the episode is going to cheat you when the elephants are trampling him off-screen then it pans down to show you the exact moment one steps on and off his skull. The increasingly elaborate set and costume designs for Bob’s theatrical performance. There is a lot of artistry to appreciate here. It’s cinematic even. Then again, a lot of the cinematic moments can be attributed to its source material: the 1991 movie Cape Fear, some moments directly inspired. Not to say that all of the work was done for them, certainly not. They put their own spin on things.

Perhaps the placement is deserved. The shot that goes from Bart’s window, flying over all of Springfield, to Bob’s prison is particularly impressive. There’s a lot of juicy saturation and shifts in color reminiscent of shots from Krusty Gets Busted and Black Widower. It’s safe to assume that I’m drawn more towards character details, and little things like all the lower angles we get from Bob work well in conveying menace, as if we, the audience, are in danger

This concludes Part One of the Sideshow Bob Awards, In Part Two I will cover Best Song and Best Mystery. As for intermission, picture THE RAKES!!!

[monsters-conquer-the-world]

Mario Kart 8 - Booster Course Pack Wave 6 Speculation/Obsessing

I've always loved the Mario Kart games, but for my money Mario Kart 8 Deluxe is the new gold standard for the entire kart-racing genre. It just FEELS SO GOOD to drive these goofy little contraptions around and blow up your friends in psychedelic cartoon worlds.

Booster Course Pack Wave 5 just dropped this week and I'm loving this shit. Squeaky Clean Sprint?! KAMEK?!

This unholy union?!

Of course as awesome as this stuff is, I can't help but think about that one last wave of goodies we're getting at the end of the year. At the very least we know we're getting two new drivers and 8 new-old courses (with 1 or 2 possibly being brand new), but at this point Nintendo hasn't announced any specifics.

It's fun to guess and speculate though! Since we're only guaranteed 2 new drivers (and there's a smaller pool to pull from), I started there.

Prior to the Booster Course Packs adding Birdo, Kamek, Wiggler, and Petey Piranha (all drivers who have appeared in previous MKs), Nintendo added guest characters from non-Mario series like Link, Splatoon Girl, and Isabelle. While it's POSSIBLE they could hit us with someone brand new and/or from a different series, I'm thinking it's more likely they'll pull these last 2 drivers from the existing Kartiverse.

With that in mind, here are the standout possibilities from previous Karts:

DIDDY KONG in Double-Dash!!, Wii, Tour Iconic sidekick/costar of Donkey Kong Country series, and three-time karter (not to mention headlining his OWN kart games). On one hand it's fuckin' crazy to me that he's not already in here, but on the other hand if I can only pick one more Kong, I'd rather have Funky or Dixie 😬sorry didds

HAMMER BRO in Tour I like Hammer Bros, I've always thought of them as Bowser's elite goon squad--hammers hurt and their helmets are dope. On the flipside we already have Koopa-Troopa, Lakitu, Dry Bones, and Kamek, plus 9 Bowser-flavored Koopas. We might already be over koopacity.

MONTY MOLE in Tour This is some goofy left-field shit that I am absolutely into. Not my first choice, but funny, cute and strange enough to be worth it. He a mole driving a car

PEACHETTE in Tour So even though this looks exactly like Peach in a slightly goofier outfit, it's actually Toadette in a powered-up form from New Super Mario Bros. U Deluxe.. Identity theft is a crime, Toadette.

PAULINE in Tour Mario's original damsel in distress, Pauline debuted way back on the original Donkey Kong arcade cabinet, but also had a major role in Super Mario Odyssey on the Switch (plus a bunch of handheld DK games in-between). Glamorous singing mayor-lady, cool! Why the fuck not! We better get a New Donk City track if she's added tho

KITSUNE LUIGI in Tour Look I know I gave Peachette a lot of shit for being an obscure power-up (this one hailing from Super Mario 3D Land and World), but at least we can tell this is still Luigi! Plus it'd complement Tanooki Mario and Cat Peach REAL nice. Let me have this. Luigi needs a win. It's not a furry thing (not that there's anything wrong with that!).

POOCHY in Tour This fuckin' guy. I still have acid flashbacks to his levels in Yoshi's Island. Still tho, big ol' dog-thing driving car is hilarious, I'd sign off on his goofy ass

FUNKY KONG in Wii, Tour Finally, another prospect with more than Tour on his Karting resume. Funky Kong fuckin' rules. DKC's resident gearhead, party animal, and big lovable himbo dumbass, this dude gotta come back. Non-negotiable. HE WEARS JORTS... WITH A BELT

DIXIE KONG in Tour The other coolest Kong. Probably technically cooler than Funky. It'd be crazy if both new characters were Kongs, but if they were Funky and Dixie I would shit my pants with joy. Dixie's badass.

NABBIT in Tour This would make sense, but I would also be like "sure why not." Shitty little thieving rabbit-man is fine. Is anyone clamoring for this? No judgement, just curiosity. I got kind of sick of the New Super Mario Bros. series, but I don't speak for the whole fuckin' world.

KING BOB-OMB in Tour HAHAHA YES!!! BIG DUMB ORB MUSTACHE CROWN MAN. I also lost my shit when he showed up in the Mario movie. If B-list bosses like Petey Piranha and King Boo get to drive, let this big fancy idiot. He probably accidentally explodes like a dingaling when he doesn't win.

MEOWSER in Tour Like Kitsune Luigi, this would be a nice complement to Tanooki Mario and Cat Peach, but we already have Bowser Classic, Jr., Dry, and his 7 delightful little punkass shithead kids. Meowser does benefit from reminding me of Kintaro, from my OTHER favorite game series with the initials "MK":

CHARGIN' CHUCK in Tour A different listicle already mentioned his fucking awesome-ass burger'n'fries mobile being the best part of him. I'm trying not to accidentally rip off that listicle COMPLETELY, but I might have. Sorry. I think it was on Hard Times/Hard Drive? CC's beefiness and sporty theming could save him from being another face in the Koopa Krowd, but he's not my first draft pick.

CAPTAIN TOAD in Tour I'm all over the place on this one. El Capitano has his own spin-off games--that's pretty legit! But he's just Toad with some different clothes on... but so is Metal Mario and Cat Peach! Do we need a third Toad? If he's a higher weight class because of his gear, then maybe!

HONEY QUEEN in MK7 Aww, remember Super Mario Galaxy?! I like when lady-characters get to be something besides "skinny human princess." If fricking Petey Piranha can race again, so can this big ol' bee!

PARATROOPA in MKDD!! Ah, our millionth Koopa! Jokes aside, since Paratroopa has ONLY been in Double Dash!! (the one where every driver needed an obvious partner), I bet he's a major longshot. Kamek, Wiggler, and Petey Piranha were all in Tour, so I'm inclined to think Nintendo will be pulling from the Tour roster. But who the hell knows! Here are some other (unlikely) prospects.

R.O.B. in MKDS Between this and his playable debut in Super Smash Bros. Brawl, R.O.B., the (in)famous robot peripheral for the NES/Famicom, was having a little moment in the 2000s. A wave of 1980s nostalgia or a 20th anniversary celebration, maybe? I'm not expecting him to come back again after almost ANOTHER 20 years (Jesus Christ), but I love his kart that makes it look like he has little legs.

PAC-MAN AND OTHER WEIRDOS FROM THE ARCADE COLLABORATION WITH NAMCO in Mario Kart Arcade GP, Arcade GP2, and Arcade GP DX Again, non-Tour to me says longshot, but fuck it would be weird and cool to play as Ms. Pac-Man. Blinky the ghost, one of the Tamagotchis and a happy little arcade drum also made the cut!

Mametchi aka The Cooler Nabbit.

OK he's actually a BIG, SASSY cartoon drum. Still cute. Crazy that the Prince from the Katamari games wasn't playable in these, IMO he'd be perfect and have a deliciously funky, knobby kartamari.

Click here to vote for your fave!

[bukvarsbitch]

happy 25 songs of paul f. days!

day 4: "what kind of problems (does an irish cart tart have?)" from the final off book (#52)

i love this song so much; i also forgot how iconic melissabeth is after this one, so go give it a listen if you haven't. this song features an iconic thing in musical improv that makes me laugh every time: two people trying to sing the same thing at the same time without having a clear idea what the other one's doing, just a general one. also, the entire fucking witch sequence is so out of no where but i adore it. this is the last song from this episode, but if you haven't listened, i'd recommend it, especially if you've listened to the year before this ep (and even if you haven't!).

fav bits!

"tAHP of the morning to yA! it's me: caHRL tart!"

*cup rattle* "i'm sorry i fell down!"

"as long as we've known you, you've been an irish man. that's what this timeline has" "ahh tis true, tis true" *wheezing*

"i just like to go on scott's show and talk about the troubles"

the troubles irish cart has: sometimes, he doesn't want to get out of bed; sometimes, he gets an ache inside of his head; sometimes, he sees his shoe's untied; and sometimes, his dear old mother has died

"i'll tEHL you some mORE of my trAHBLES"

some more troubles irish carl tart has: sometimes, his dry cleaning is late; sometimes, he's broken his favorite plate; sometimes, he's fell into a ditch; and sometimes, he's been cursed by a witch

"tis a sad tale.. i wAS WALKING" and the entire witch scene

"i saw a witch and thought, all right"

jess' weird little into the woods-esque witch of irish carl tart <3

"you are cursed forevermore— that you can't go inside a sneaker store!"

"that's me sAD story"

"paul f. tompkins— notable zoo keeper"

"i don't know, there's no chorus, so it really doesn't feel like something you're interested in"

"what kind of troubles does a zookeeper paul f. tompkins have" at the same time as "does a zookeeper pft have" and how it takes zach and jess like three times to realize that one of them should wait

the troubles zoo keeper pft has: the monkeys often won't stay off the rails; it's often hard to get the penguins into the tophand tails; sometimes, he just feels like he needs a break; and, sometimes, he's gotta go and find a snake

"they're not a problem for everyone!" "no?" "i'm irish"

the troubles firefighter eliza has (except for fire): it can get pretty hot because of her, but not (not not) because of her fire; sometimes she just wants to shout "help me!"

"i feel like you're more self-sufficient than that eliza" "that's what people think, but it's not true!"

the troubles ghost podcast scott has: he has to dig up graves; his hands get really hurty; he's super super dirty; the bones smell bad; he's got a weird relationship with his ghost dad (not bill cosby! a different one!)

"but we have these guests in a line; and now i think we're out of time. forthisfirsthalf" *laughter*

[shurisneakers-side]

hey gorgeous ;) (this fic has consumed me since i read it)

She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes.

LISTEN. If it's study time and ur around to study but are instead TALKING i will probably lose my mind. i will listen and be nice but INTERNALLY. fumes

The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.

reader has things to do!!! grades to achieve!! leave!!

“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”

nvm she's me as fuck she can stay

You nod. “Wow.”

pls the disinterest

Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”

humbling him even when he's not around. angie said this is MY 2000s romcom with uninterested girl and loverboy and i was SEATED

Gotta be there early to support Bucky,”

my clown ass for 8 years

“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”

BOYFRIENDS????? HELLOOOOOOOO???????

“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”

IM GIGGLING STOP THIS

“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.

support ur bestie's loser bf come on now !

“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”

braid his hair 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”

need him

“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”

MF DIDNT WASTE A SECOND LMAOOOOO

“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”

shes cool and smart and supports local artists. literal icon

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?” Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

GET HIS ASS STEVE. CORNY LOSER (endearing)

She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.

he's so lovesick and everyone can see it

He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”

at least he was kind about it

“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”

i need to bully him. i need to do this or i'll die

“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”

THANK U. ANGEL. PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE UR THE COOL ONE HERE

He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”

so ashamed to say this would definitly work on me angie u cannot make him charming and goofy coded

“Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?” “Oh.” You think. “Then no.” “Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”

KJHGKJDFNGDKFJGNDFKJGH OH MY GOLLY BENSONS WEKJHDGKJDFHGDF;G;FKGVGJVSDGR

“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”

HE DIDNT EVEN CORRECT THE SWEATY PART

“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.

this is so funnny like it was so casual kjfhgdkfj

“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light. “Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.

ma'am--

“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.

he's so down bad after she insults him every sentence and calls him names. this is so real

Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.

i need to beat him in an argument. i don't care if im wrong i just need him to accept defeat

“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.

HOW IS HE READY TO DANCE??? LIKE HE JUST KNOWS THIS???as someone who cant dance to save her life this is unfathomable to me

“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”

put this man out of his misery look how absolutely clingy he is

“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”

funny how all of a sudden i'm super into him

“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”

AY YOOOOO BI BUCKY REP

“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.

she may not be but i am a loser so i most definitely am !

“You are insufferable.” “And you’re beautiful.” “And you’re ridiculous.” “Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet. You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.” “I’ll make it worth it. Promise.” “I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.

this is so. 2000s coded. like i can see this playing out i cn HEAR them. i need this injected into my blood

“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.

me when i get all steps wrong but end up at the right solution

James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.

HOOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOH

but fr it really is a nice name. i just cannot understand why his mother would name him after the president (james buchanan was a president right???) but it works

asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.

You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention.

he's got librarians simping for him please 😭😭 tbf if someone gave me a cookie i'd give them access to my body too

Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.

BITCH WY WOULDNT U SAY HER NAME WHY SURPRISE HER ON THE ROAD IN THE DARK

“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 

oh. she has a history there. is that why bruce is so hellbent on checking up on her

You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”

:(

You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”

her fully confessing she thinks hes sweet and charming and funny

What’re you doing?” “You have to invite me in,” he explains. “What, like a vampire?” He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.” You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.

pls i laughed out loud at this

shes so guarded and walls-up and he's out there heart on his sleeve and ready to propose. otp

It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.

no wait this is so real bc the first time i realised i missed a boy i imedatiely went 'what the fuck'

I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,”

i still do hello. i completely believe it is real this is my flat earth thery sorry

“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”

ocean girl x space boy........

Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”

FINE i will marry you

“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.

MONTHSSSS??????? AND SHE DIDNT REALISE????? HES ROUTINE HES SET IN HER DAY NOW

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons.  You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?” A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”

ksjhfdkjghkjghrkjhgrkjtg

“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.

shes so emotionally repressed i want to shake her like a can of pringles

You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.

the fuck

You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

nectar, sticky in his throat.

i noticed a lot of sweetness imagery in this, angie. like honey, nectar and all. it really does paint a scene-- very warm and soft

“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

SHES PANICKING GIRL SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO DEAL

You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.

im grinning im crying screaming throwing up

“I have to go.” “What? We just got here.” “I have an appointment.” “For what?”

GIRL STAY THERE AND KISS HIM WHAT. WHAT IS THIS. SHARE THE COOKIE

“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.

hes so cute im crying

ok i had to google what shape cavatappi is and I'm OBSESSED

“I didn't say anything.”

SAY IT BE THE FRIEND SHE NEEDS CALL HER OUT !!

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real.

DO U WANT ME TO CRY BE HONEST

Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”

wait thats so cute shut up aw

“Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.”

the mortifying ordeal of being known........

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.

if i dont find some athlete who will hold my hands stained with orange juice. so help me god

Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.

call him girl omg get back into the building

When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

i hope she finds a way to heal from this. i cant imagine how scarring this was

“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”

the way he knows where it is ltrly based on her preferences is so

If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

ok this is a very serious scene but i read this and my heart went dfkjhgfkjhgkfjhgfkjhg this is reminding me of the 'if i loved you less, i may have been able to talk about it more'

You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 

kill me why dont u huh angie not them being vulnerable and open

Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.

THE EVOLUTION OF HER NOT EVEN COMING TO GAMES TO BEING SO INVESTED IN THIS DUMBFUCK

You’re not worried.

oh bc i would be losing my mind rn

a mere play he put on for the free kick.

this is reminding me of that jamie tartt GIVE ME THE BALL PLEASE I WANT THE BALL

Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.

her unwavering confidence in this fellow and his antics. she sees right through him

“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.

SHE RECOGNISES HIS HERO FACE DKFJGHFJGH. THE FACT THAT HE EVEN HAS ONE HE'S SOOO LAME i need him

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.

imgiggling im crying im going through a lot rn no one talk to me

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?” “You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure. His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

THIS IS MAKING ME SHORTCIRCUIT

Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”

girl she would have made it very clear i dont think she would have taken it if she didnt like it to some degree

“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”

shes so me from 2018 i am actually reeling. it was actually on this very webbed site that my beloved mutual told me. "you can study and have a boyfriend. like, you can do both, you know that right?" and it rewired my brain chemistry

“But what if it is?”

sound logic soccer boy let's kiss

You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.

SHES GOING TO DRAG IT OUT OF HIM OR DIE AVOIDING.

It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.

theyre so boyfrengirlfren coded wdym they arent DATING ET

Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”

YES SHES GETTING BULLIED FOR BEING PATHETICALLY IN LOVE TOO. I AM OBSESSED

“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”

the annoyances to friends to lovers pipeline is soooo.........i am chewing glass i need them to touch mouth

“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.

stab me why dont u

He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”

kjfngjkfnhjkgfnhkfjgnhfkjn protective bucky being protective over his friends and saying he'll come back later like it's no big deal like WHY R U SO NICE

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door.

i will climb you in this car james

His skin flips green.

angie im dumb as bricks i fully thought. "hulk??"

or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

INVOKING EEAAO OHHHH YOU ARE SO EVIL FOR THIS ANGIE. I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

FUCKING !!!!! YES!!!! FUINALLY LETS FUCINGG GO!!!!

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

OK CONSENT KING !

“I'll go out with you.”

i can now die happily

also!! your prose was so alight and quick, but there was also so much care that was put into it. like a painting. do you get me. a painting with honey.

tldr; angie marry me we can write a romcom together and i will make u so happy i promise

Flirting and Football- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely can’t remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partner’s book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.

She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises. 

You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.

She doesn’t seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.

“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”

You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinn’s glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.

“Is he in psychology too?” you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.

“Bucky? Oh no,” she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. “He’s in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.”

You nod. “Wow.”

“I know, oh my god.” She fans herself. “Did I tell you he basically won the last game?”

Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.”

“Okay then,” you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. “I didn’t go to the last game, so what do I know?”

Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t go?” she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. “Why?”

You shrug. “I had to do something.”

“You have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But don’t fall in love,” she warns with a giggle. “He’s mine.”

“Promise,” you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. “Well, I have to go. This was helpful, though,” you lie.

“Oh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,” Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.

“Right,” you respond, standing. “I hope everything goes well with him,” you say as you walk out.

She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.

It’s cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruce’s contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.

“I hate you so much right now,” you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.

“What? What did I do?”

“‘I’ll be there!’ ‘How could I miss studying physics?’” you mock, imitating his voice. “You left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!”

“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.

“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”

“Okay, okay, I know. I’m sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.”

“Whatever and ew,” you complain. “And I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“What? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.”

“Don’t worry. The dorm isn’t that far and you’re not exactly the most threatening anyway,” you remind. “I’ll be fine. ”

“Fine. Keep me on the line and be careful,” Bruce tells you.

“Of course,” you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that you’re nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. “How’d it go with Thor today?”

“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”

“You’re not,” you amend. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am,” Bruce confirms.

“I don’t know how you find the time to juggle everything. It’s kind of terrifying,” you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.

“I know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but it’s the opposite. It’s not juggling if I have help carrying everything.”

You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. “I’m here.”

“Finally.” You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.

“Hey Wanda, Piet.”

Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.

“Okay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?” you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.

“Before the game? Sure,” he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.

“You’re going?” you question. “I thought Thor was benched.”

“He’s off!” There’s a whoop you recognize as Thor’s that makes you smile. “Which is why it’s an important game we need to go to.”

“We?” you echo.

“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.

“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.

Pietro cuts in, “You have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?”

You purse your lips and squint at him. “Didn’t you guys win last game?”

“Still! Come on, please,” he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.

You search your brain for excuses. “I have things to do.”

“If it’s not ‘stay home and binge a series,’ I'll let you skip,” Bruce chimes.

You frown as the siblings grin.

“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically. “But I want it noted that it’s only because I really like cookies.” You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.

Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Standing in the middle of students I don’t know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,” you disagree, but she ignores you.

“Even Vis is going,” she argues. “And you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.”

You mutter incoherently.

“We’ll leave at three,” she instructs with a smile.

-

“I could be doing so many useful things right now,” you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.

Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise you’d committed to with a hook of your pinkie, you’d sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.

You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although he’d laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didn’t want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.

The word you’d been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where you’re slumped with your best friend.

Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”

You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Thank you, Thor.”

“Of course! And you all know Bruce, of course.”

There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. “I, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. “I’m Steve.” He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. “That’s Bucky.”

You smile at them, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. “I meant Steve.” Steve looks startled. “I saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!”

“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”

You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steve’s surprise takes a second to process.

“Wait, me?” Steve points stupidly at himself. “My art?”

“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”

“I told you,” Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. “I wish you woulda let me go. I could’ve seen the art and met her sooner.”

His friend sends him a furtive glance. “Is this your first time coming to a game?” Steve wonders as he turns back to you. 

You shake your head. “Pietro is my roommate’s brother and Thor’s my best friend’s boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but it’s my first time being back here.” You gesture to the hall. “I’m usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.”

Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.

Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. “Well, I think you should come around more often.”

You scan him for a second. “Why?” you ask genuinely.

He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thor’s booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. “Duty calls, I guess.”

“So you’ll come around?” He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. “Huh,” he says.

“What?” Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Bucky’s features crease in that way, but he’d prefer hearing it from his friend’s mouth.

“Just… wondering why I’d never seen her before. Pretty.”

“Uh huh.” Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isn’t going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. “‘Thought it was because the line didn’t work,” he finally tells him, catching Bucky’s attention.

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?”

Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

-

The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.

Why you don’t have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but it’s the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle this—the attention, the blushing, the flattery.

The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isn’t on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.

You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.

Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.

“Hey,” he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.

You return it a pause later. “Hey, um—thanks…” you struggle for a second before you’re cut off.

“Bucky!” the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes it’s Quinn, the girl he’d gone out on a date with a while ago. “I saw you on the field yesterday,” she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “You were amazing.”

“I appreciate it,” he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. “I should go, I needed to talk to her,” he starts, acting quickly. “But it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.”

Quinn’s fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. “Thank you!”

Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out again?” She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.

He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.

“Hey again,” he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.

“Hey, Bucky.” Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didn’t remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. “It was a good game yesterday.”

“Thank you,” he replies easily. “How was I?”

You cock your head at him. “Fine? You… were a soccer player.”

Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. “He’s asking if he lived up to the stories,” he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. “‘Does another pretty girl think I’m great too?’” he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.

You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. “Stories?” you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation he’s usually welcomed with.

“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’ variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”

Your eyebrows raise. “‘Winter Soldier?’” you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.

“’S my nickname,” Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.

“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”

Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”

Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. “You wound me, doll.”

“I wound you?” you giggle, unable to help it. “This is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I don’t know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.”

Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”

“Oh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?” you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. “You were fine, I’m sure,” you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. “Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?”

Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. “And me, little flower?”

You roll your eyes. “You were fast. Like always.”

“That’s code for ‘the best out there,’” Pietro tells Bucky.

“I think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,” Bucky retorts, turning back to you. “‘Got a favorite player yet?” He asks you.

You tilt a brow at him. “On the soccer team?”

“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.

“Based off of what?” You counter.

“Anything.”

“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”

Pietro clears his throat loudly.

“What if I get you the best seat possible next game?” Bucky offers.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m good where I am.”

“She barely pays attention anyway,” Wanda informs. “All she does is complain.”

You nod. “And I can do that in any seat.”

“Alright… what if you wear my jersey at the next game?” Bucky continues.

You raise an eyebrow. “And you’re convincing me, right?”

“You should be swooning right now,” Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.

“Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”

“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”

“Right,” you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. “I gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.” You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“Me too!” Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he can’t see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. “Huh.”

A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. “Nice work,” he lies.

-

Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but it’s exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.

You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.

Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruce’s contact name.

“The thing,” you mumble, remembering Bruce’s insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.

“Hey, are you ready?” Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.

“Sure,” you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is you’re going out with can’t be too picky. “Ready for what again?”

“The team’s win? We’re going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.”

You purse your lips. “Are we going to a bar?”

There’s a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. “...No.”

Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. “Then, yes, I’m ready. I guess.”

“That's great!” Bruce praises. “Because we are outside.”

You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. “We?” you repeat as you look around, confused. “Are Wan and Pietro with you?”

“They’re probably already there. And ‘we’ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.”

You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.

“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”

There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended ‘that bad?’ before you hang up, waving to Bruce’s car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. “Hey, doll, you look great.”

“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.

“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.

You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize you’ll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.

“You tryna cop a feel? Could’ve just asked,” Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.

“Oh please,” you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. “Excuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isn’t that great of a driver. He’s in his twenties and gets night blindness.”

Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.

“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”

You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you don’t lose it. “How’d you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?” you ask, recalling the nerves with which he’d told you about it a couple of days ago.

“Wonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,” Thor replies cheerily.

“You didn’t even need to,” you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.

“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.

“Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.

“Not the same thing. Not even close.”

You laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you promise. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.

“Hey, how was art today?” you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Bucky’s brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.

“You were right. I was being too judgemental,” Steve sighs. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Listened to who?” Bucky buts in. “How did you know Stevie had art today?” he continues, trying to keep his tone light.

“We talk.” You shrug. 

“Oh,” Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. “Do you?”

“Yes.” You nod before actually yawning that time. “I’m sorry.”

“You should sleep more,” Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.

“I have things to do,” you defend. “I sleep enough, it’s the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,” you defend. “But if it pleases you, I’ll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.” Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.

“It will,” Bucky says.

For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.

He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when you’re so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.

You’re more open than he’s ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he can’t stop staring at you.

Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. “Sorry.”

“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.

-

The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it weren’t so ridiculously important to him.

He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if you’d come before, only to go unnoticed by him. There’s a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.

The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen before—though he hasn’t seen many looks on your face before—but it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that it’s unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriend—who’s been dubbed Vision—is dangerous. Cocky.

You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companion’s reply.

Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.

“How’re my favorite geniuses?” Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Bucky’s daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.

“Oh, you know, out-geniusing the other,” you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.

“Hey Dolly,” he smiles. “I thought you had too many books to read to go out.”

“I finished them all,” you respond. “And ‘Dolly’? How old are you?”

Bucky clicks his tongue. “What would you prefer, sweetheart?”

“My name,” you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. “Do you remember it? I imagine it’s hard to keep track.”

“Of course I remember.” Bucky scoffs. “I don’t think I could forget.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Right, I’d imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.”

“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.

Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you criticise.

His hand drops and he pouts. “C’mon, pretty please.”

“Do you know what music you swing dance to?” you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. “Because this isn’t it.”

“I need to take advantage of the fact that you’re here, doll. You said so yourself you don’t go out much,” he complains. 

“Yeah, this is why!” you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.

“What?!” Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he can’t make out. When you realize he can’t hear you, you give him a pout.

“And I was just about to say yes,” you say sadly.

“Wha—” Bucky’s cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. “I have to check that out. I’ll be right back!” he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.

When he comes back, you’re gone.

The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.

-

You’re in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your book’s cover. You’re a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.

You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what you’re reading.

“So, you’re actually here, huh?” he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. “Sorry.”

“Why are you here?” you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.

“Anyone can come to the library.” Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.

“Yes. Why are you here? With me? You didn’t know my name until, like, two days ago.” You’re careful to keep your voice down.

“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”

“Did we?” you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.

“And, how do you know we don’t just have alternating study days?” Bucky points out.

“I am here every day,” you inform. “And if that were the case, why would you be here right now?” you rebut. “What would you be studying for? Coaching?”

“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”

You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. “What? Quinn said you were in… sports.”

“Well,” Bucky sucks in a breath as if what he’s about to tell you is a revelation. “Soccer is a sport.”

“I know,” you affirm blandly. “But are you actually in biomedical?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “What, do you not believe me?” he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.”

“I’m just surprised. You’ve never talked about it before.”

“We’ve talked four times,” Bucky points out. “Although I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.”

“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

You laugh quietly. “Sure.”

“But I like you,” Bucky explains, shrugging. “You’re smart and pretty and you interest me.”

You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. “You are so much better at this than I thought you were.”

“Sorry?”

“At first, I was like ‘this guy? This is the Becky people won’t shut up about?’”

“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.

“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.

Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. “Oh my god, you’re doing it now.”

“Sweetheart, it’s something that just happens naturally, I’m not doing anything.”

You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. “You are insufferable.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet.

You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.”

“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”

“I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.

“Alright, so if I talk to you more, you’ll go out with me?”

You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t… I’m not liking where this is going.”

“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.

“Oh, I was right,” you groan. “I just mean you don’t know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.”

“I will know all of that,” he pledges.

You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”

A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. “Bucky,” he says archly.

-

You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 

It’s hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.

James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.

He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if it’s a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didn’t make you smile so much.

He doesn’t get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.

You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because you’re finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.

Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that you’re heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and you’ve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.

You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isn’t getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. You’re alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.

It’s three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.

A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and you’re on the verge of running.

Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.

A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that it’s only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.

“You scared me,” you whisper. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”

“I'm sorry,” he replies sincerely. “I didn’t think—”

“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 

Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if you’d awoken. He doesn’t startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.

“My computer,” you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.

Bucky doesn’t pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones you’d stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.

“I should get going,” you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.

It’s silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Bucky’s hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he could’ve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.

You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if you’ll burst into tears spontaneously. 

“I was attacked once.” Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. “Walking home from the library,” you explain. “It’s why Bruce doesn’t like me walking home alone.”

“You… someone…” Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Why?” It’s painfully incredulous.

You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.

“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it,” you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“For scaring you,” Bucky insists sincerely. “For the fact that it happened in the first place.” You don’t respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.

“It really wasn’t as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,” you palliate. “He hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.”

Bucky’s frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.

“So, why’d you come get me? How’d you know I was only on my way?” you chime suddenly.

“I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. “So you drove to find me?”

“Technically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so let’s go with it.” Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.

You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”

He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. You’re already looking at him, softer in your gaze than he’s ever seen you.

He hums inquisitively. “You think I'm charming and funny and sweet?”

You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. “I think—” you inhale in relief. “We’re here.”

Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.

“Thank you,” you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.

You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. “So, you wanna do that again soon?”

You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. “Do what again?”

He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesn’t fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. “It's the bronze one—no, the other one. How do you not—”

The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Bucky’s face.

“Thanks,” you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after you’ve set your things down and he’s not following behind you like you thought he would be. “What’re you doing?”

“You have to invite me in,” he explains.

“What, like a vampire?”

He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”

You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.

“It's cold out here,” he reminds.

“Maybe you should go home then,” you suggest.

His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.

“Or. Come inside.” At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. “Do you want to come in? You’re welcome to.” I want you to.

He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. “Really?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. “Yeah. Just come on in already. It’s cold outside, dummy.”

-

It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.

You’d rather not admit it, but it’s hard not to—not when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You can’t help the smiles when he “coincidentally” bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.

His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sister’s favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.

It's infuriating, you think, but you don’t mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

“I like the ocean,” you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen you’d lent him two weeks ago. “It’s the reason why my favorite color is blue.”

His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. “‘Thought it was because of my eyes.”

You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. “I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,” you tell him. “And mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,” You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.

“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”

You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what you’ve given him.

“You collect those squished pennies, right?” Bucky asks. 

You’re startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. “Uh—yeah. Why?” 

Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”

It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. “Thank you,” you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. “This is really nice of you.”

“It’s not big deal,” Bucky shrugs. “I just thought you’d like it.”

Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see it’s time for you to leave. “I gotta go,” you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” you begin.

“I want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.”

You nod along. “Right.” 

He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.

You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.

“Does Sam still have your car?” you ask as you leave the library.

“Yup. One more week, he says.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Well, he’s been saying that for two, so…”

You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.

Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutique’s window. “There’s a sale at the bookstore!”

“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.

You nod. “Can we?”

“Sure, we’ll just leave the library a little earlier,” Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.

“Someone’s sure of themselves,” you tease. “You’re walking me home tomorrow, too?”

“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.

Your jests die on your tongue as you realize he’s right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog you’d pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.

“Weeks,” you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 

You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?”

A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”

“Why have you been walking me home every day for months?”

“‘Thought it was weeks?”

“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.

He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms don’t let you believe that. “I don't want you to walk alone.” Then, “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Shocked pupils dart around wildly and it’s difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determination—open, honest. “Thank you.”

He smiles and it’s soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.

Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize you’ve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.

“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.

“Wait—” he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.

You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.

You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.

-

Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.

No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.

He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. He’s memorized the genuine curve of your lips when he’s said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesn’t know this.

You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.

He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if you’d fallen in love or something. You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.

He’s aware he’s a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he can’t pretend like it doesn’t inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.

He wonders if it clogs words up in yours—if it’s the reason you’re so quiet.

You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. There’s a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you don’t completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. You’re struggling with something but he can’t figure out what.

Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.

“What?” you blurt. It’s louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.

He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but it’s vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose. 

“I'm hungry,” you complain, ignoring his compliment.

“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.

“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”

“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.

“I can pay. It’s my food.”

“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”

Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”

You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.

Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.

Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.

“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.

You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.

“Yeah?”

Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.

“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”

You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.

“I have to go.”

“What? We just got here.”

“I have an appointment.”

“For what?”

“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.

“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”

You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.

Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.

“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”

“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”

“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.

Bruce stares at you.

You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”

“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”

Your shoulders drop.

“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.

“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.

Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”

“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”

His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.

“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”

“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.

You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 

-

For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.

The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.

Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.

You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.

You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.

The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.

Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”

Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.

“What? Why?”

Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”

“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 

You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.

“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.

You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”

Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”

Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”

“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.

You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.

He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”

As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.

He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.

You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.

You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.

-

You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.

The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 

Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.

It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.

Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.

You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.

Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.

Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.

“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 

“What? Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”

“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”

You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”

You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”

“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.

“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”

“B-both of us.”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”

There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”

You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.

There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.

You need to get home. You can’t move.

You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.

Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”

It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.

“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”

It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.

You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.

You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 

Bucky pulls you back in.

“Will you take me home?”

His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.

Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.

Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.

“Why?”

You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."

“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”

He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”

His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.

You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 

“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”

“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.

You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”

His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”

-

Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.

The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.

With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.

Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.

It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.

You’re not worried.

Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.

So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.

Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.

You’re not worried.

Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.

“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.

“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”

It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”

“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”

“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.

“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”

Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.

Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.

“I told you,” you tell her.

“He’s limping,” she points out.

“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.

He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.

You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.

It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.

Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.

“Hey, what’re you—”

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.

“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.

You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.

“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.

“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”

“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.

He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”

“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”

His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”

“Not yet!” he proclaims.

You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.

“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.

-

You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.

He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.

He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.

If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.

He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”

You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”

“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”

Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”

“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.

“No.”

“Not even guys you like?”

“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”

“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”

You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?

I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”

Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”

“You don’t think I should?”

“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”

Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”

“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”

You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.

Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”

You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”

“I try.”

You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”

You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”

“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”

The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.

You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.

“Will you?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”

“Give it a chance.”

You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.

You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.

Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.

-

You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.

There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.

It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.

It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.

You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.

You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.

You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.

He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 

Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.

“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.

When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.

“Yeah?” he responds finally.

“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.

“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”

You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.

“See?” You say accusatorily. 

Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”

That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 

“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”

“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”

“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”

She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”

“You talk about me to your friends?”

You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”

“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”

You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”

“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”

You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.

“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”

You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.

“Thank you.”

You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.

You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.

“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”

“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.

You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 

You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.

Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.

“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”

He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.

Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.

Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.

“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”

“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”

“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.

You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.

He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”

He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.

“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.

Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”

“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”

Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.

“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”

“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.

“Yes. It was a good day today.” 

You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.

You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.

Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”

Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be different.”

“How?” His brows are furrowed.

You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”

“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.

“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”

The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.

His skin flips green.

You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.

It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.

He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.

You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”

He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.

“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”

He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.

You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.

“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.

He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”

You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.

“I'll go out with you.”

His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey