#i wanted them to be friends and they r now the best of friends

[mossangelll]

HII HOW R U?? I was wondering if u could make a yandere caitvi x reader(like a poly relationship). Just headcannons if u like!! I really love ur postss💗💗

Yandere!Caitvi x Reader Headcanons

i’m great, tysm for requesting! sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this ^^

i was gonna add a section on how they kidnap you (figured i’d use it for a different fic) and an nsfw section but i didn’t know if anyone wanted that so i skipped it this time

HOW THEY MEET YOU

ok so vi is the one who notices you first - at first, you’re just another person who blends into the crowd at her fights

but then she begins to see you at every single fight of hers without fail, always with a huge handmade sign that says something like “step on ME, vi” or “vi, you’re the BEST!”

she thinks it’s endearing how someone like you, so unassuming and cute, is hanging around shady dens like this just to support her

you manage to catch her at the bar after one of her fights and you two strike up an unlikely friendship

she starts to fall head over heels for you - you don’t seem to care or even notice that she’s a mess

in fact, you’re hellbent on fixing her and she can’t help but have massive heart eyes at this point even though she’d normally find something like this demeaning (she doesn’t need to be saved!)

all her life, she’s chased after the people she loved and prioritised their well-being and now someone’s finally doing the same for her

you make her feel so seen at a time in her life when she feels incredibly lost and worthless

however it’s at this point vi leaves the fighting scene and reconnects with cait - you gave her the strength to do so

vi always feels guilty about this but you’re always in the back of her mind, a hopeful what if to ponder on the lonely nights after a lover’s quarrel with cait

so it’s nothing short of serendipity when cait starts to come home later and later, talking about a new recruit who has potential that needs to be nurtured and look at that - it’s you

cait knows she needs to be faithful to vi, she would never dream of going behind her back, but she’s drawn to you in a way that simultaneously confuses her and excites her

she becomes your mentor and sees parts of herself in you and that just makes her obsession infatuation that much worse

cait blurs the line between appropriate behaviour between a subordinate and their junior; she shows up at your door randomly for a “work assignment” and pries into the private details of your love life

if she finds out you’re dating someone or interested in someone other than her, your work life becomes a living nightmare

you’ll constantly be admonished for the tiniest infractions simply because she’s wants you all to herself and doesn’t know how to express her emotions in a healthy way

vi can’t even find it in herself to be jealous when she sees the lustre in cait’s blue eyes, one that’s only reserved for her, starts to come out whenever she’s around you but she does feel left out, after all, vi found you first

the two end up having a conversation and realise that they can’t live without you in their lives - all to themselves, that is

OK TIME FOR WHAT THEY’RE LIKE IN A RELATIONSHIP

honestly i think vi is the one you can wrap around your pinkie finger - she has such a soft spot for the people she loves and she’s not afraid of making it known

you want more treats? she’ll sneak them in

you want to go outside? ok, but vi is handcuffing you to her and you can only stay out for five minutes

surprisingly she respects your boundaries and tries not to be overly affectionate with you when you don’t want to be, even if it kills her inside

don’t think you can ask to talk to family and friends though, that’s completely off-limits and you will see a sadistic side to vi she doesn’t normally let out

i imagine her punishments would be something to the effect of her saying extremely cruel and upsetting things to you to remind you of your place

she would also be into physical punishments like spanking but not anything that could really hurt you - she would have a breakdown if she hurt you to the point of serious injury and would never forgive herself

cait on the other hand is essentially the “bad cop” in this scenario, it’s not that she doesn’t love you, in fact i would say she’s probably more obsessed than vi is, it’s that she doesn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you whatsoever

she went lax on punishing zaunites and it ended up with her mother dead - she’s not taking any risks when it comes to you

it harder to tell with cait but she does try to show her affection, it’s just not as obvious as the way she acts to vi

she does like to be physically affectionate with you more than vi does but this too is very subtle

she likes to make these actions seem like a necessity when really it’s for her own satisfaction

e.g. she’ll hold you hand and profess it’s because “you might fall over” even though you can see the faint blush on her cheeks - you’re both aware it’s a terrible lie but are equally too embarrassed to mention it

like in my other work, her shows of affection come from giving you books, painting lessons and expensive clothes, etc. - she wants to nurture your talents and expose you to the finer things in life that you’ve missed out on

she lowkey has a superiority complex when it comes to this lmao but i think she does it all to mask her deep insecurities

she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of her darling

her punishments are more harsh. i feel like she would put you in isolation and leave you hungry if you refuse to abide by her or vi’s rules

i hc that this stems from her childhood; her mother would withhold affection (maybe not to this extent) whenever she misbehaved and this way of thinking carried over to adulthood

this means that caitlyn and vi do tend to argue over what they think is best for you and it lowkey gives divorced parents energy - they’re constantly trying to prove themselves right

it’s a very volatile environment to be in

imo this is kinda cait and vi’s way of flirting too 😭 in the aftermath they look back on it like ‘awww she cares so much about our darling she’s willing to fight over them - so cute!’

their relationship stays mostly the same as it was before just a lil more intense

they’d both be yandere for each other, it just manifests a lot more strongly with you

like, they know they can look after themselves but you’re so weak they need to go above and beyond to ensure their most precious darling is safe

they both plan detailed daily routines for you and you’re micromanaged down to the smallest details: how long you can sleep for, the food you eat, the exercises you do, the clothes you wear, the people you can interact with

in my mind, this takes place at the end of s2 so you live with them in cait’s mansion - they’ve both experienced a LOT of trauma which contributes to them developing a codependent relationship and having to drag someone else into their mess

it’s definitely a stifling relationship and it feels like you’re never truly alone, if for some reason they can’t be there with you there’ll always be a trusted maid or enforcer keeping tabs on you

omg wait they definitely give you a diary and say it’s private but at the end of the night they’ll read through it to see if you’re planning anything they wouldn’t agree with

cait came up with the idea and vi thinks it’s a violation of your privacy but she goes along with it anyway

would never admit it but secretly it’s her favourite time of the day (if she respects your physical boundaries, she’s gotta break some other boundaries - give her a break!)

they just want to patch up the pain they feel from all the losses they’ve had to deal with and unfortunately for you, you’re their bandages

masterlist

[skulkingfoxes]

A post-mortem of "Good Morning, Rose"

A few weeks ago, I posted my addition to the comic anthology GLIMM*R, a short comic called "Good Morning, Rose".

The reaction to it has been so uplifting and exciting. It really seemed to struck a cord with people, which, really, the best thing for me to hear as a creator. I absolutely love writing and making short comics, you can do much with so little, explore such interesting stories. The feedback I've gotten has been very heartwarming! It makes me want to explore short stories even more!

But, first, I want to talk about some of my feelings and about the process of making "Good Morning, Rose". This got a bit long, so you'll have to indulge me a bit. You should also read the comic first before reading this. Don't worry, it's only 8 pages.

Now the preamble is out of the way, lets go back to the beginning.

The idea of "Good Morning, Rose" was a nugget in my brain for a long time! Originally it was actually from the Dreamwalker's point of view, where she was a faceless entity who had a long term relationship with Rose and was trying to figure out how to explain that their relationships only were in Rose's dreams. It was a story about seeing, accepting, and loving each other truly and fully, and the trials and tribulations of getting there. Also a cute girl with an ancient eldrich being is always fun to explore.

A lot of it was too convoluted, emotionally and storywise. It also required to get into what the Dreamwalker actually was, which I ended up really not liking. So, ultimately, the idea didn't work, and I put it down. I ended up going to do my short comic Twigs instead.

When I was invited into the wlw anthology GLIMM*R and was told that the theme was "dreams", I decided to take another stab at the concept. This time, I inverted the pov, it's now Rose's story. And instead of a long term relationship, it was about the powerful first feeling of a perfect (maybe even too perfect?) first date.

One of the hardest thing to write in romance is getting readers to care about the relationship in the first place. To have the readers believe in the character's feeling, to be invested in their romance. This is even harder to do when you only have 8 pages to do it. Focusing it around a first date helped a lot in that case. There I'm not trying to sell that these two character will love each other forever and forever, just the fluttering first butterflies of realizing you're developing feeling for someone. It's why I leave it so open-ended about whether the two of them meet again at the end of the comic, or even if it was real in the first place. It's just not the point of the story.

That's something important about writing short stories, I find. You really have to hone in on an idea, on a thought. Take a simple idea and try to find all of the interesting layers. It's too easy to try to stuff a short story with too many ideas that ultimately go unfulfilled. In fact, the first draft of the comic, at the time called "Dream Date", there was a big problem with this and the pacing.

Here, take a look at the first stab at the roughs:

(BTW, there is something so fun about roughs for me lol. The art is so kinetic and loose, all about just getting the story across)/

As you can see, a lot of the ideas and imagery made to the final version of the comic. But both the initial readers and I agreed that the beginning and end were good, but the middle was messy and slowed things down. You can also see that I got stuck in the same problem I did when I first conceived of the story, it's bogged down trying to understand the Dreamwalker in a way that actually hurts the story. You simply dont have any room for bad pacing a short comic like this. I need to focus more on the character's and their emotions and exploring their actual relationship rather than blandly trying to explain the situation. A friend also suggested that I should hone in on the fluid dream-like aspects of the first couple of pages, especially since it's so fun to explore in the medium of comics. So I got to work gutting it out and trying again with the new, much stronger imo, direction.

Also there were some issues with the page format that needed changes for printing, thus the final spread had to be split up. Which is a shame, but oh well, it still works. I also honed in a lot more on Rose and her insecurities. I ended up putting a lot of myself into Rose. I'm glad readers seems to able to relate to her.

After figuring out the the story and the pacing, I went and, well, made the comic. Once you've done as many comic pages I have at this point, once you figure out a process, the actual drawing is fairly straightforward. Eventually, after thinking, and drawing, and toiling, and revising, and thinking hard about my life choices, I come out of the other end of the tunnel with a comic. One that I ended up really liking. One that other people ended up liking, which is always crazy to me.

I got a lot of interesting reactions to the comic. One demographic thinking it was sweet, wanting more of it (always a flattering thought), and enjoying the romance. Other remarking on the bittersweetness of it all, finding your soulmate in a dream, maybe never to see them again if they were even real in the first place. There were a lot of people remarking how they had a similar dream, one where they met someone they seemed totally and completely convinced that they were real and told the dreamer so, until the dreamer woke up. There was one person who asked if I had met the dreamwalker myself. Alas, my dreams are not this romantic and straightforward.

But all of us can hold hands, nod at each other, united by one universally true statement: big eldritch lady hot.

There's a lot of little bits I can talk about, like how Rose's dress is actively modeled after selkie dresses because I think they're cute, or some other trials and tribulations. But I think I've finished all I have had to say. I hope you enjoyed this and will stick around for my future projects! I definitely want to explore more short stories in the next year, especially as I am illustrating big graphic novels for my day job and don't have the time or energy for huge projects.

Till then, thank you so much! Happy holidays and have a good new year!

[blackcatner00]

Omg THIS CHAPTER-

I'm so mad at everyone right now, especially Steve. Like, I can understand being mad and not wanting your best friend to be in that type of situation, but bro-

Also Nat, I know it was bad on her part to tell Steve, even though R already told her not to, but I can understand why she did it. I just hope they can talk things through because I really want them to have some sort of friendship or something 😔 Also, I hate Bucky so much right now, he better put his shit together.

Btw your writting is sooo good, i was literally about to cry in this chapter.

Say Don't Go | Part 6

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Asshole steve, angst, i think a swear or 2 lol

Masterpost

----

The crowd’s energy had shifted from electric to chaotic in an instant. Cheers had turned into murmurs of confusion, and the tension in the arena now felt suffocating. Your camera hung useless around your neck as you watched the scene unfold. Steve and Bucky were being dragged off the ice, both bloodied, jerseys disheveled. You barely registered the referee’s whistle cutting through the air or the crowd’s scattered boos as your focus remained on them.

Bucky’s head hung low, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t look back. But then he did. His blue eyes locked on yours across the chaos, filled with something raw—shame, regret, fear. He held your gaze for a heartbeat, and then he turned away, jaw tightening as the locker room swallowed him.

Beside you, Natasha had gone still, her sharp gaze cutting between the ice and the exit. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her arms crossed tightly.

“What the hell was that?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crowd’s restless noise.

Natasha’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look at you. “That,” she said, her voice low and clipped, “was Steve losing his shit. And Bucky letting him.”

Your stomach twisted, nausea rising in your throat. “You told him,” you said, your voice cracking. “You told Steve.”

Natasha finally looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He deserved to know.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her. “Nat, I trusted you.” Your voice wavered, the tremor undeniable.

Her face softened, regret flickering across her features. “I didn’t think he’d—” She cut herself off, her head snapping toward the exit. “Come on.”

You didn’t have time to argue before Natasha grabbed your arm, pulling you through the maze of hallways under the arena. The distant sound of the crowd faded, replaced by the unmistakable sound of yelling—a voice you knew too well. Steve’s voice, sharp and furious, echoed down the corridor.

By the time you reached the locker room, the shouting had quieted, replaced by muffled voices and the clang of something heavy hitting the floor. Natasha pressed her back against the wall, her body tense, ready for a fight.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” you murmured, every fiber of your being screaming at you to run.

Natasha glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “If we’re not here, Steve’s going to say something worse than he probably already did, and Bucky’s going to do something even stupider. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

You stared at the closed door, each muffled sound twisting the knot in your stomach tighter. Before you could decide whether to stay or run, the door slammed open. His gaze landed on you like a blade, sharp and unrelenting.

“Stevie—” you started, voice trembling, but he shook his head sharply.

“Not now,” he snapped, his voice cold and clipped. “Go home, Bee. I’m not playing right now.”

The nickname, one that had always felt warm and comforting, now felt like a knife to the chest. You flinched, taking a step back, but he wasn’t done. His gaze burned into you, his words cutting deeper than any wound.

“You know,” he said, his voice eerily calm, “I told you not to get involved with him. I told you this would happen. But you couldn’t listen, could you?”

“Steve, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Didn’t think about how this would affect me? Didn’t think about the team? Or didn’t think at all?”

"Steve, that’s enough,” Natasha said sharply, stepping between you.

But Steve wasn’t finished. He glared at her, frustration boiling over. “Don’t, Nat. You started this when you told me!"

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise, but Steve had already turned his attention back to you. With his gaze back to you, his expression was a mixture of anger and something darker, something that looked almost like betrayal. He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.

“You know,” he started, his voice eerily calm, “I hate to say it but you deserve this, all of it, you just couldn't keep your legs closed! And now look where we are.”

Your chest tightened, guilt and confusion tangling together. “Steve, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” he scoffed, his voice rising. “You’re sorry? You really had to fall for the first guy who looked your way, didn’t you?”

You felt the blood drain from your face, the words hitting harder than any punch. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Fair?” he scoffed. “You want to talk about fair? I’ve spent my whole life looking out for you, Bee. I’ve done everything I could to protect you. And this—” He gestured wildly, his voice cracking. “This is how you repay me?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. Steve had never spoken to you like this, never thrown your insecurities back at you. Tears stung your eyes, but you fought them back, swallowing hard.

“Steve, what the hell!” Natasha interjected, stepping fully between you and him now.

But Steve ignored her, his focus unwavering. “He’s my co-captain, Y/N. He’s on my team! We’re a team! He’s my friend. And you—” His voice cracked, but he pushed through, letting out a bitter laugh. “You didn’t have to sleep with him!”

His words hung in the air like a poison, suffocating and undeniable.

“Steve, stop!” Natasha’s voice was sharp now, her hand reaching for his arm, but he pulled away.

He turned to you one last time, his shoulders slumping slightly as if he had drained himself of his anger. His voice was quieter now, but no less cutting. “You couldn’t just listen, could you? I don’t ask much of you. I bend over backward for you, Bee, always have and unfortunately always will! It's that stupid trauma bond isn't it?!" He laughed "But I guess that was too much to ask.”

Steve!” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. “That’s enough.”

But Steve just shook his head, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his anger had finally drained him. His next words were quieter, but no less cutting. “I hope it was worth it.”

He didn’t wait for a response, turning and storming down the hallway without a backward glance. The sound of his footsteps echoed long after he disappeared, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

Natasha’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing grounding you. “Don’t listen to him,” she said softly.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “You should go after him,” you murmured. “He needs you.”

Natasha hesitated, her gaze lingering on you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just… could you text me later? Let me know how he is?”

Her hesitation was brief, but then she nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll check in.” She gave you one last look before nodding and heading after Steve, leaving you alone in the empty hallway.

And then she was gone, leaving you alone in the empty hallway. You stood there for a moment, the walls around you closing in, the weight of Steve’s words settling heavily on your chest.

Your hands trembled as you braced yourself against the wall, staring at the floor as tears finally broke free, hot and unrelenting. Steve’s words replayed in your mind, each one sharper than the last, each one carving deeper into the ache that had already taken root.

The silence was deafening. The ache in your chest unbearable.

--------

The locker room felt like a prison, the flickering fluorescent lights casting jagged shadows across the walls, the dripping faucet in the corner echoing louder than it should have. Bucky sat hunched on the bench, his hands still trembling, his knuckles raw and split from the fight. Blood crusted over his lip, mingling with the sweat that clung to his skin. His heart pounded relentlessly, the adrenaline from the brawl refusing to dissipate, as though his body was stuck in fight-or-flight mode.

The memory of Steve’s words reverberated through his skull like a hammer striking an anvil.

“You deserve this, all of it, you just couldn't keep your legs closed!"

Even now, it made his stomach churn. He’d heard venom in Steve’s voice before, but never like this—not directed at you. The implication of those words cut deeper than any punch Steve had landed.

Bucky clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He’d sat there, silent and frozen, as Steve’s words lashed out at you like a whip. He could still hear your voice—quieter, almost pleading—trying to defend yourself against something that wasn’t even true.

And he hadn’t stepped in. He hadn’t opened his mouth to stop it. Not to defend you. Not to admit the truth. Not to own up to what he should have said days ago. Instead, he let the silence bury you, bury him on the other side of the wall.

The locker room door creaked open, snapping him out of his thoughts. He half expected to see you there, standing in the doorway with tears in your eyes, ready to demand answers. But it was just one of the assistant coaches, face flushed with fury, jaw tight with barely restrained anger.

“Barnes,” the coach barked, his voice sharp and grating. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was out there?”

Bucky didn’t lift his head, his gaze glued to the floor where blood had pooled.

The coach’s footsteps thundered closer. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Slowly, Bucky raised his head, his eyes hollow and rimmed with exhaustion. He didn’t have the energy for this—not when his mind was already tearing itself apart.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice came out hoarse, barely audible over the blood rushing in his ears.

“I want you to explain why two of my captains were throwing punches at each other in front of Goddamn everyone! You’ve got teammates out there looking up to you, Barnes. You think they saw leadership on that ice?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, the coach’s words bouncing off his mental walls without really sinking in. Leadership? That wasn’t what this was about. This wasn’t about hockey, or the team, or the stupid game they’d lost because of the fight. It was about you.

“It’s personal,” he muttered after a long pause, his voice flat.

“Personal?” The coach let out a bitter laugh. “You’re on the ice. Nothing’s personal out there! You leave that shit in the parking lot, or you don’t play. You hear me?”

Bucky nodded mutely, his mind already slipping away again.

“I’m serious, Barnes. You’re hanging by a thread right now! God the press is just gonna love this! Don’t bother showing up to practice Monday if you can’t get your head out of your ass..... I swear to fuck if this is over a girl Barnes!" The door slammed shut behind the coach, and silence once again swallowed the room.

Bucky stared down at his hands, at the blood caked under his nails, at the faint tremor in his fingers. He hated the feeling building in his chest—the guilt, the shame, the crushing weight of knowing that you deserved so much better than what he’d given you.

The fight with Steve replayed again, every punch like a snapshot burned into his memory. Steve’s rage had been justified, Bucky knew that. He wasn’t angry at Steve for what he’d said or done. He deserved all of it. But it wasn’t Steve’s voice that haunted him—it was the memory of yours.

The way you’d hesitated, as if you weren’t even sure you could believe your own defense. The way your voice had wavered, so quiet, like you didn’t think it mattered.

God, he’d done that to you.

The locker room walls felt like they were closing in as Bucky finally dragged himself to his feet. The shower water was scalding as it hit his skin, but he didn’t move. He let it burn, let it sting his battered body. Maybe it was penance. Maybe he deserved to feel every ounce of the pain he’d caused you.

As he stood under the stream, he imagined you walking out that door. Were you crying? Angry? Hurt? Had you stayed to listen to Steve, or had you run before he could make things worse? He didn’t know which was worse—the thought of you believing Steve’s words, or the thought of you knowing they were lies but doubting him anyway.

By the time he was dressed and ready to leave, the locker room was empty. The muffled sounds of the crowd had long since faded, replaced by a suffocating stillness. His bag hung heavy over his shoulder as he walked toward the door, pausing just before pushing it open.

For a moment, he thought about going to find you. Maybe you were still outside, maybe you were waiting for him, hoping for an explanation. But then reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave. What good would an explanation do? He couldn’t erase what had happened. He couldn’t erase what he hadn’t done.

He sank back onto the bench, his head in his hands, his heart heavy with the weight of what he’d lost.

The truth was simple, and it crushed him: He’d already lost you, and it was his fault.

Everything was always his fault.

-----

You stood frozen in the dimly lit hallway outside the locker room, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if you could hold yourself together. But you couldn’t. Steve’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in your head, each syllable landing like a slap:

“You really had to fall for the first guy who looked your way.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the sting of tears or the ache in your chest. Steve had never spoken to you like that before—never been so cruel, so deliberately cutting. He hadn’t just questioned your judgment; he’d dismissed your worth entirely.

Natasha’s earlier attempt to console you felt like a distant memory now. You weren’t sure if you wanted her to come back, or if you wanted anyone to see you like this—raw and shattered, barely holding on.

The locker room door creaked open, the sound pulling you back into the present. Your heart dropped as Bucky stepped out, his movements sluggish, his face a mess of bruises and exhaustion. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice rough, like he’d been screaming—or crying. "You're still here?"

You stared at him, your gaze flitting over his split lip, the blood still crusted on his knuckles. He looked…wrecked. But worse than the physical damage was the way his eyes begged you for something you couldn’t give—not tonight.

You wanted to reach for him. God, you wanted to. But in the end you really weren't ever anything, right? You flirted here and there, lingering looks and subtle touches all leading to the night at the party but you were never actually anything to him. The weight of everything—the fight, Steve’s words, the humiliation—kept you rooted in place, a wall of silence between you.

“I—” he started, then faltered. His hand raked through his damp hair, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling. It hurt to say it, but it would hurt more to listen.

His head shot up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to explain,” you choked out, barely holding back a sob. “Not tonight. I can’t—I can’t do this right now.”

He took a hesitant step forward, his hand half-reaching for you. “Please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Just…let me explain. Let me make this right.”

“No,” you snapped, sharper this time. Your anger surged, hot and unstoppable, breaking through the pain. “Do you have any idea what it felt like? Hearing them laugh about me? Hearing you say nothing? Standing there, letting them think I’m just nothing? And talking me down? Talking down an intimate moment, I just .... it meant something to me, you meant something to me, I don't just sleep with anyone, I thought... Never mind, it doesn't matter anyway, Im just just fucking stupid”

“I didn’t—” He flinched, his shoulders hunching as if bracing for impact. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean for it to—”

“You didn’t mean what?” you demanded, your voice rising. “You didn’t mean to stand there and let them tear me apart? You didn’t mean to hurt me? What, Bucky? What didn’t you mean?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Your laugh came out bitter, hollow. “That’s what I thought.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t understand—”

“Then make me understand!” you yelled, the words bursting out before you could stop them. “Say something that makes this make sense because, right now, I feel like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet for ever trusting you!”

He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

And that silence—it broke something in you.

Your voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge. “I thought you were different, Bucky. I really did. But you’re just like the rest of them. All talk, all charm, and when it matters? Nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Why not?” You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. It’s not. You’re—God, you’re everything, Y/N. I just…I screwed up. I know I did, but you have to believe me—”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you said, cutting him off. “Not for you. Not anymore.”

His face crumpled, the fight draining out of him as he took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words trembling with sincerity.

But it wasn’t enough. It never would be.

“Me too,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry I thought you could be better.”

With that, you turned and walked away, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. You didn’t dare look back.

Bucky stood frozen in place, staring at the spot where you’d been. The silence pressed down on him like a physical weight, the hollow ache in his chest spreading until it felt like it might swallow him whole.

He leaned back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold tile floor. His head dropped into his hands, and for a long moment, he just sat there, trying to breathe, trying to think, trying to do anything but feel.

But it was impossible.

The memory of your face, the way your voice had cracked, the tears in your eyes—it was unbearable. And worse, the memory of the locker room—his teammates laughing, the vile things they’d said about you—played on a loop in his mind.

He hadn’t laughed with them. He hadn’t joined in. But he hadn’t stopped them either. And that was just as bad.

“I’m such a fucking coward,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing.

He thought about running after you, about begging you to let him explain, to let him fix this. But what could he say? How could he even begin to make up for what he’d done—or hadn’t done?

The truth was, he didn’t deserve you. He never had. He knew that.

And now, he’d finally proven it.

[yuwuta]

PLS PLS PLSSSSS keep talking about kids with olympic athletes! gojo and nanami pls pls pls i have to Know. everything u wrote about yuuta was already so so cute

(prev olympics au here)

the gojo twins are hilarious because your baby boy looks exactly like satoru, but has very little of his personality—it seems like the only things he inherited was satoru’s love for sweets and love for you. still, even though he’s a strong swimmer, he much prefers to relax in his floaties alongside you if you’re also in the pool, or chill by your side on a lounge chair, glasses too big for his face keeping the sun out of his eyes as he shares his smoothie with you, and asks to borrow your phone to take pictures of his sister and daddy in the pool. 

your baby girl on the other hand… she might have your face but she’s got satoru’s everything else—his competitive streak, his confidence, and definitely his mischievous nature. she’s the one who tiptoes into your bedroom at five in the morning, tapping at her daddy’s shoulders, and putting her little finger over his lip to shush him before he can wake you up; she’s always the one to convince satoru to take her swimming the backyard at the crack of dawn, and why by the time you and your baby boy wake up, she and satoru are already past warm up laps and swimming lessons and onto who can make the splashiest canonball competitions (she always wins because while her tiny body can endure a belly flop, satoru’s years of training physically doesn’t allow him to do it… and maybe because he’s not so competitive when it comes to his baby girl, he’ll always let her win). 

kento’s professional judo career honestly doesn’t last very long. after his first olympic games, you two start dating and he proposes just after he wins gold the second time he’s in the olympics; he does maybe two more years of national competitions while you’re pregnant, and decides that the intense training for the next two years in preparation of a third olympic competition isn’t worth missing time he could spend with you or your baby girl—plus, with all the money he’s made from competitions, winning gold medals, brand ambassadorships, commercials, and collaborations, he had enough money to provide for all of your for the rest of your lives. so, that’s what he does (his dream has always been to be a househusband, anyway...) his previous salaryman career comes in handy when deciding how to invest his money, how to buy a house, how to take care of his friends, how to set up a fund for your daughter, and an extra account or two… just incase more babies come along… 

by the time your baby girl is four, she’s already kento’s biggest fan. she loudly and proudly proclaims to everybody that her daddy was basically superman and won all the shiny trophies and medals in the house from when he was being a superhero. if anyone recognizes kento when they’re out together, she always confirms their suspicions, proudly boasting, “yeah kento is my daddy! he’s a winner!” it always makes kento’s heart swell to hear her praise. he doesn’t compete professionally anymore, but he does train from time to time, and has taken on a few mentees, and your daughter LOVES to watch him coach/train. she’s got her own uniform that she always puts on whenever they go to the gym together, and gets so excited when kento or ino or yuuji pretend to spar with her. 

she’s honestly kento’s mini figure. she’s respectful and reserved, but strong and knows when to fight and how to use her voice. there’s a time when he gets a call from her school saying that she got in a fight, the principal frames it as your daughter needlessly pushing around an older kid, but your daughter is certain in her words when she tells her dad that it was because the kid was being mean to the younger kids, and to her. kento doesn’t say a word to the teachers—doesn’t even fight them sending her home early for the day, because he’s happy to scoop her up and take her out for ice cream and tell her that he’s proud of her.

[faaun]

i feel rly sad and conflicted abt one of my best friends on earth but idk who to ask for advice bc i usually would have consulted her in this situation lmao

[mirrortouchedsea]

You don’t have to say anything, Icchan, we can just enjoy the sunset if you want. Yes, that sounds nice. The two of them settle in on the grass, awkwardly sitting apart, hands next to each other in the grass, the silence palpable. Shu wanted to say something, anything, why did he drag Ryukun up here again? He should say something. Ryukun-- Icchan--. The two of them looked at each other before breaking out in laughs. Being with Ryukun, even like this, was so��freeing. No expectations or pretenses to be had, they’ve seen each other at their worst, their cringiest, their childish selves. 

Ryukun, can you promise me something? Shu is six years old again, shaking after a particularly bad incident with his bullies. Of course, Icchan, we’re friends aren’t we? Mhm, I know, but…promise me we’ll always be friends? Ryukun laughs and pulls Shu into a hug, his warmth overwhelming and yet comforting. Yeah, Icchan, we’ll be friends forever. 

[stromuprisahat]

metvmorqhoses:

Let’s not forget that this grand declaration of love, the “I see you now” (which would have already been top cringe in normal circumstances) is only coming right after the entire country has started to see the said “old friend” as a national treasure and a literal saint lol could it be that the idiot only started to “see her now” because literally everyone else suddenly started to see Alina as special? Worth seeing now? One has to wonder lmao

all of Ravka:

Malyen: I see you now...

sad-outsider:

I think this is from R&R, but I could be wrong🤔

albediz:

Well, I'm not sure either, but I think they're referring to a chapter of ruin and rising. Ruin and Rising Chapter 16 - "I looked down, brushing petals off of the desk. “Did you ever notice me at Keramzin?” He was silent for a long moment, and when I glanced at him, he was looking up at the glass ceiling. He’d gone red as a beet. “Mal?” He cleared his throat, crossed his arms. “As a matter of fact, I did. I had some very… distracting thoughts about you.” “You did?” I sputtered. “And I felt guilty for every one of them. You were supposed to be my best friend, not…” He shrugged and turned even redder. “Idiot.” I think that would be it, but Mal said she feels "guilt" not "shame". Unfortunately, I have this chapter recorded in my memory since it is where Mal and Alina have sex and it is quite depressing.

Thanks. I'm glad I didn't get to it yet.

You can tell he's supposed to be cute by how red he gets. I suspect he might be holding his breath to fool Alina, because it's funnier explanation than "LB's trying to make it heartwarming and adorable by suddenly presenting Malyen as awkward and shy, when some of us remember how he treated Alina previous two books".

But hey- he didn't mean it. He just couldn't bring himself to ask out the only girl he truly wanted. 😉

Thinking about it- this shows the seeds of two cases of terrible gaps between writing and expected perception- Wesper and Zoya.

To keep it short (I wrote about both elsewhere.)- Wesper is presented as a cute relationship, yet when you look, they're a variation on "If he bullies you, he likes you.". Zoya gets traumatic past and a garden for dead people she previously didn't care about to make her vulnerable and tender on the inside. Deep, deep down. Please ignore her mean, cruel behaviour.

Besides, if a guy acted the way Malyen does in a situation like this, I wouldn't interpret it as a shared vision of married future, I'd suspect him he was jerking off above my sleeping form (since there wasn't that many to pick from, and Alina likely believes she's never supposed to touch her nether parts, so she won't even think about that option).

The fact that Malyen felt ashamed of the feelings he had for Alina already tells us a lot about these supposed feelings.

In reality, who would want to fall in love and date a stick...

Hey nonny, next time add a quote or at least a chapter please, because I'm not sure which of his star moments you're refering to. I don't think he ever speaks about shame- that's Alina's domain.

What I DO remember is his surprise he misses his "oldest friend", which like... okay, who wouldn't be shocked to care about losing something they took for granted?

Forgive the sarcasm, but I'll never cease to be baffled this is supposed to be peak romance. I miss my own bed, when away from home. You're telling me he didn't thought he might feel the same about a PERSON he spend most of his life with? One he ALLEGEDLY ~cares~ about?!

That whole scene leading to his great declaration lies somewhere between laughable, pathetic and repugnant. I've already done its analysis, but let's try again:

“Did you miss me, Alina? Did you miss me when you were gone?” “Every day,” I said honestly. “I missed you every hour. And you know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. I’d catch myself walking around to find you, not for any reason, just out of habit, because I’d seen something that I wanted to tell you about or because I wanted to hear your voice. And then I’d realize that you weren’t there anymore, and every time, every single time, it was like having the wind knocked out of me. I’ve risked my life for you. I’ve walked half the length of Ravka for you, and I’d do it again and again and again just to be with you, just to starve with you and freeze with you and hear you complain about hard cheese every day. So don’t tell me we don’t belong together,” he said fiercely. He was very close now, and my heart was suddenly hammering in my chest. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see you, Alina. But I see you now.”

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 19

“Did you miss me, Alina? Did you miss me when you were gone?” Looking for assurance Alina DID miss him. Which could be innocent, except his next sentence makes it sound as if she chose to leave of her own free will. To abandon HIM.

“Every day,” I said honestly. “I missed you every hour. Trying to outdo Alina in how much. It's pretty childish- Malyen is no poet going for hyperbole, even unintentional, it's as if Alina's feelings weren't enough. HE's the one giving more (and deserving greater appreciation).

And you know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. Yup! Here's the one on how much did he value her company before she became important to others...

I’d catch myself walking around to find you, not for any reason, just out of habit, because I’d seen something that I wanted to tell you about or because I wanted to hear your voice. Again, another half-innocent sentence, that grows much more negative in context of his previous and following (S&S!!!) behaviour towards Alina. He doesn't seek her out because he enjoys her company, but because he's used to her unwavering presence. It's about what she can do for him.

And then I’d realize that you weren’t there anymore, and every time, every single time, it was like having the wind knocked out of me. Yes, that happens, when you lose a constant in your life, but that doesn't mean you love or care about it. It might be about a comfort of rutine.

I’ve risked my life for you. I’ve walked half the length of Ravka for you ... now he's listing what she should be grateful for as if she asked for any of it. Knowing Alina at this point, steady glance in her direction would be enough, but that's no grand gesture, is it?! This makes me think how often Alina has to listen to the list of what he gave up for her post-R&R. How often he seeks loud appreciation of his "sacrifices". Happy home indeed.

... I’d do it again and again and again just to be with you, just to starve with you and freeze with you and hear you complain about hard cheese every day. So don’t tell me we don’t belong together, Again, this one started nice... for Malyen to fuck it up with the last sentence. That one isn't reassurance. That's an order. What if Alina only wanted to be friends? The excerpt above follows Malyen's anger over Alina's performance at Winter Fete: That night at the palace when I saw you on that stage with him, you looked so happy. Like you belonged with him. I can’t get that picture out of my head. What if Alina realized Baghra was lying and wanted to regain Aleksander's trust? What if she found someone else? What if she decided she has plenty on her plate as it stands, so she won't start a romantic relationship with anyone? The next book will show us neither of those options are an option, when Malyen's concerned. He'll guilt-trip her into being with him want it or not.

And here comes the cherry on the top- I’m sorry it took me so long to see you, Alina. But I see you now. I don't need to be mean to say too little- too late. Hell, Alina could (should) have! This sounds like he's expecting a pat on his head and a badge of honour for his accomplishments. Admitting he wronged her in the past shouldn't earn him a clean slate, he should first change his ways. Not to mention he'll soon prove "see" and "accept" are a whole different beasts.

Geez, it gets worse with every re-read!

[arts-i-enjoy]

AHHHHHH

[orcelito]

My druid has "fuckboy" written all over her

[mikeyswishes]

one of my friends last year was telling me how no friendship survives the grade im in and i told him that was bullshit but no he was right i dont like most of my oldest friends anymore n have found a bunch of new ones or gotten closer w old ones

[reddevilmcnt]

Reggie’s soft, goofy laughter peeked through the shed tears, offering him a fragile sense of hope. Dmitri watched with quiet sympathy, his melted dark amber eyes warm and a gorgeously sunlit smile gracing his lips. As Reggie scrubbed at his tear-streaked face with his hands, Dmitri couldn’t help but think, Poor thing. Poor, pretty, thing.

But Dmitri didn’t mind. He knew Reggie would show the same support for him in a heartbeat. Sure, Dmitri internalized his struggles more, that was just his nature. Fight camps could stretch into painful, grueling months of mental hell, and while Dmitri didn’t necessarily expect Reggie to be there for him, he always knew he was. The trust between them was unbreakable, a powerfully steady presence that Dmitri found comfort in.

It felt good, knowing that Reggie wasn’t blaming him for anything or bolting out the door at the first sign of conflict. Maybe Reggie could sense Dmitri’s confusion, his quiet apology wrapped in unspoken words and a longing for clarity. Dmitri was used to his girl friends immediately flocking to him to vent about the terrible guys and gals they’d dated, but maybe other men handled things like him by also bottling it up, swallowing it down.

Did it piss Dmitri off, though? A little. But that had more to do with his inexplicable possessiveness over Reggie than anything else. Not that it made sense.

“You good? You sure?” Dmitri asked, his brow arched as he handed Reggie a napkin from the counter. The holiday fun wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but he was prepared to give Reggie all the time he needed to recover.

“Ehhhh… I didn’t have a lotta friends, either,” Dmitri admitted with a soft, sweet chuckle that rolled intoxicatingly through his chest. His shoulders shook slightly with the sound. “Kinda kept beating people up.” He was glad things were different now. Without Reggie, life would’ve gone on (his MMA career would still be intact, sure,) but there’d be a lot less sunshine. Dmitri didn't even want to think about life before Reggie, though the memories had a way of creeping back to haunt him anyway.

A part of him secretly burned to tell Reggie to stop apologizing for no reason, but he knew it wouldn’t stick. Instead, Dmitri just shook his head and let it slide. They were okay. At least, he thought they were----- until Reggie, in an awkward, last-second pivot, muttered a compliment.

He’s kind of… you’re kind of great.

Dmitri’s grin widened, every pearl-white tooth on display. “I know,” he teased, basking in the random moment of appreciation. But then the words settled in, and his expression faltered, his brows knitting together slightly. Could Reggie mean...? No, no way in hell.

Sure, Dmitri could buy that Reggie might be kinda sorta attracted to him (because duh, look at the man!) but attraction didn’t mean seriousness. Dmitri had long resigned himself to the idea that his territorial nature over Reggie was mostly one-sided, and that was fine, as long as Reggie never found out. What they had wasn’t worth risking, not even for sex, no matter how much Dmitri loved it. ...And yet, no lover had ever emotionally connected with Dmitri the way Reggie did. That fact lingered with sharp and profound undeniability. It also meant that their friendship was delicate, something to be handled with care, not to be tested on a whim or a feeling alone.

Patting Reggie’s arm one last time, Dmitri reached around him to hook his phone up to the speaker. They needed the distraction, something upbeat to fill the strained silence and dissolve the bubbling tension Dmitri was still working hard to ignore. He wasn’t about to let his emotions turn him into the kind of fucking idiot who pounces on his best friend.

His music library was eclectic: heavy metal for fight mode, hip hop for runs or club nights, and pop and R&B for chillin' with the girls. But this time, he scrolled to the playlist Reggie had sent him. Knowing it would suit his friend's taste, he hit play, letting the cheerful tunes fill the kitchen as they got back to baking.

Periodically, Dmitri paused during their work, when Reggie’s words began pulling at the threads of his thoughts harder than he’d like. But he pushed them aside with pure logic; all relationships went through hell only to eventually fall apart, but friendships were different, they were almost always worth saving. With friendship, Dmitri didn’t have to put his heart on the line. He didn’t have to face the risk of rejection or betrayal and end up the one sobbing in the kitchen instead. Besides, why would Reggie even want to be with someone like him anyway?

With the music keeping them energized, the cookies were finally done after little over an hour (seriously, how could baking gingerbread cookies take so goddamn long?) They’d rolled out more than enough for two, so Dmitri grabbed a bottle of eggnog spiked with rum from the fridge to kick off their celebration. He carried everything over to the fireplace, transforming the plush sofa into a cozy nest of quilts and pillows---- a makeshift bed for two. Propping his laptop on the coffee table, he queued up one of those classic holiday flicks.

Bundled up and snug, they seemed to have found their rhythm again. Dmitri lounged right next to Reggie, his muscular arm draped along the back of the couch, fingertips resting just shy of Reggie’s shoulder. For some inexplicable reason, he was acutely aware of the contact (or lack thereof) as if electricity danced at his fingertips. It was invigorating but strange, and Dmitri masked the feeling well, taking steady sips of the spiked eggnog to ground himself.

“So,” Dmitri began, biting into a cookie that melted warmly on his tongue. “What you were sayin’ earlier… about me bein’ great and all?” A smirk tugged at his lips, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as they flicked over Reggie’s face. “What makes you think that, huh? Like, what’re the specific reasons?”

He loved having his big ass ego fed, sure----- but more than that, he wanted to know exactly what Reggie saw in him. Even if he wasn’t ready to admit how much that answer mattered.

perhaps it's a testament to the raw emotion of the moment that, in a laugh that chokes out like a sob, reggie's tears turn to some kind of manic humor. because this, all of this, is so perfect and warm and comforting. the way dmitri wraps him up in his arms and holds him, the way fingers thread though hair that he's let go curly instead of trying to style to hell and back to flatten it out, the way his body presses against the other man for more contact, fingers curl into the back of his shirt to hold him there for longer, face disappears against the warm shoulder under it.

what an easy thing it would be to simply kiss that shoulder, to twist his head and find a soft spot on his neck to press his lips to, to pull back and finally kiss the big, dumb oaf on the mouth and get all of this over with.

but he's started to cry and that feels like the wrong time to do that. if he ever finds courage enough to kiss this man, he wants to do it in a way that's so romantic that dmitri can't help but feel his toes curl and his heart hammer the way reggie's is now, probably so hard that the other man can feel it thundering against his chest like a rocket. his joke is almost too perfectly timed, and another one of those manic little giggles slips out of him. "god, you're dumb sometimes." eyes close, and he presses further into that hug, holds the man longer, leans into every touch.

he's gonna end up with a serious problem if dmitri keeps grabbing his hair and his waist, sliding his hands all around his body like a playground. but god, does reggie wish he was doing it without this stupid apron, this stupid shirt, these stupid pants...

head shaking as he tries to clear the errant thoughts, he simply clears his throat, reaches up to scrub at his face when dmitri's hands are gone. "i'm good. i'm fine." he doesn't have to be and he knows that. but he is, because this is a mess of his own making. "you didn't make me cry. i made me cry. you know how i am, man. i get into my head, i think too much, i freak out over everything. i didn't have a lot of friends growing up, now i think we both know why." his laugh, self deprecating and shaky, is weak as he blows out a breath. "i'm sorry." he says again, for lack of something else to say.

he still feels like he's ruined the night, but he doesn't move from the kitchen, instead, finally forcing himself to look at dmitri, head on, in the eye. "you-- he isn't a weird ass guy, by the way." it would be so easy to just say it, to just lay it all out now. the warmth of that hug, as well as the flush on his cheeks, still linger, and his eyes roam a wall of hard muscle hidden far too much by clothing before he shrugs and meets those warm eyes again. "he's kind of...." coward. weak. loser. "you're kind of great."

not a confession. but close. ripping off a bandaid, chickening out at the last second. running into burning buildings is far easier than this.

[ghtsyumz]

VENTING IN TAGZ

[astrxealis]

good morning 🥺

[caruliaa]

girl u r so misery irony poisoned and playing further and further into tht mindset and spending time with people with tht mindset bc u blatantly hate being vulnerable and open to the point of pushing away someone whos told you time and time again tht its okay to be open and vulnerable with them and that theyd be with you as long as it took for you to be vunerable having lied to them by saying vulnerable things and acting vulnerable in ways u didnt even mean then taking them back after pushing them out of your life without ever having the courage to admit the obvious reason that its that you have issues with being vulnerable that you have to work on in order to have proper relationships with others its insane

[noxtivagus]

woah i. wrote a lot.

[kuromi-hoemie]

y'know, i love reading the notes on this and watching everyone work thru their thoughts and feelings n whatnot, but you're like the one person whose tags i read and really thought Yes, you know exactly where i was coming from.

this is me