#no idea how the fuck i am going to fix my life. im sad that im in essence such a sad girl.

[caruliaa]

can i be honest here maybe its just the time uts rly late but i rly feel like killing myself rn

[vampiretouch]

im so sad tonight. I'm so tired.

[mamawasatesttube]

pondering the issues tim and kon would have to work through in their relationship... like. kon's thing for attempting so earnestly to be what his partner wants him to be that it impedes his ability to communicate, vs. tims constant struggle with the hero/personal life balance.

imagine: kon shows up to pick tim up for date night, but tim forgot about it bc he's so wrapped up in a case. he's crunching numbers he's deep in a research hole he's in the zone. so kon taps at the window and he's like hey :) you're welcome to hang out but i really won't be any fun for a bit, im so close to cracking this. it's not anything urgent right it can wait an hour or two?

and kon thinks about reminding him they have reservations for dinner. but even if tim goes oh shit and gets changed real fast, his brain will be on the case the whole time and kon knows it. so he pastes on a smile and goes oh yeah no it's nothing important, i was just saying hi on my way to metropolis :). and he knows tim Really Is in the zone bc tim doesn't even notice how fake that smile was

and the thing is, kon really thinks he did what he was supposed to do here. if he feels hurt, it doesn't matter because he did what A Good Boyfriend Should Do. besides, helping people is more important than his feelings. so if he feels hurt about this he should simply get over himself and stop it.

except like that's not actually how feelings work. oops

but tim realizes kon showed up for date night the next day when he glances at his calendar. and he's like FUCK. and then immediately Why Didn't He Tell Me???? Why Did He Just Leave Again???? ? ???? kon???? and he tries to apologize to kon but kon's like no you didn't do anything wrong ! and tim is like. uh. yes i did? (holding flowers with immense confusion)

he's trying to get kon to tell him what he can do to make it up to him, if there's anything kon particularly wants to go do, what's a date idea kon wants!! and he doesn't understand why this seems to be making kon shrink in on himself a bit because he's?? trying?? to fix it???

but he hasn't realized that the issue is that kon thinks, on some level, that prioritizing himself in a relationship in any way is how he gets dumped. like he wouldn't consciously say that's what he thinks. he'd deny it out loud. but that's how he secretly feels on the inside: that having needs or wants, that expecting reciprocity from his partner, leads to him being left behind.

and so finally tim has to drop the "no really what do you wanna do??" angle to just sit on him and cup his face like hey. hey. i don't know what's going on in there but i can tell you're like Genuinely Upset (kon Haha what no I'm not!!!) but for some reason you keep saying i don't have anything to make up to you. which is Not True, Kon. can we accept that. i DO have something to make up to you and i WANT to make it up to you.

gotta cup kon's cheeks and gaze earnestly into his eyes like he's a sad lil puppy dog. listen. kon. i have a bad habit of letting the hero stuff in my life eat away at the rest of it and i am trying So Hard to be aware of when im doing it, but sometimes i fuck up because it's a hard habit to break. but i Will, because, like, this is the kind of thing that's ruined Every relationship i have ever had and i refuse to let it ruin us!! im Gonna be better for you bc you deserve better. and also because i know the rest of my family will be single until the day they die but I Refuse, okay. bruce and dick have fumbled every single relationship they've been in and i Won't be like them kon, im gonna do right by you or die trying, but you gotta talk to me for that, okay.

and kon's like. wow way to drag literally everyone in your family but i do actually feel a little better now. and tim's like fuck yeah B) was it the throwing dick and bruce under the bus that helped? i'll do it again anytime. especially bruce. listen bruce fumbled wonder woman do you know how bad that man is at relationships??? the fumbler for REAL.

and kon giggles despite himself and then manages to finally let go of some of that tension in his shoulders, heaves a big ol puppydog sigh, and plonks his face into tim's shoulder. he needs a minute but he finally admits, okay. yeah. it didn't feel great, and i should've told you it was date night that night itself. as for what we could do now, um... i'm not entirely sure... and tim's like not to worry! in my infinite wisdom i have ☝️ made a date night idea spreadsheet.

and like, the point is kon realizing that actually a good partner would like him to talk about his feelings and needs and wants. and tim realizing once again that He's Not Gonna Be Like Bruce He Refuses To Be Like Bruce. Rip To Bruce But He's Not Gonna Fumble A Bad Bitch. finally they go to the aquarium together or something and take a lot of silly fish selfies, and tim buys kon like 5 gift shop plushies. yippee!

[iantimony]

duesday

listening: idk, stuff on my phone on shuffle. some more coral bones youthemism i guess. friends at the table sangfielle, episode 3; i might not actually relisten to the rest of the arcs i already did and just skim the transcripts.

no children (ska remix) by sad snack: im back in my ska era. really funny song to have an upbeat ska tone.

the mountain goats deserters fan album: have not listened to the whole album yet but god, what a cool and unique thing that i don't think could really exist for most other bands. Five Fucking Hours

reading: Polynesian Tattooing Tools, linked from Fairhaven comic

why gen z is obsessed with point-and-shoot digital cameras: it's funny because a few months ago i was considering getting a cheap point-and-shoot to fuck around with. looks like i am not the only one who was thinkin about it.

i'm working my way through le guin's 'the left hand of darkness'! i bounced off it the first time i tried reading it a few years ago but last year i read a le guin short story anthology that had some stories set on karhide and i think that gave me a good enough primer on the world/her writing style to get it to stick this time. i'm enjoying it! it's a good book!

watching: mina le - booktok & the hotgirlification of reading: some good background video for crochet etc. bernadette banner - hand sewing regency stays should be quick...right?: oughhhhh so pretty. bernadette banner - this regency court gown is probably my favorite project ever: i won't lie i got a little misty-eyed at the artisans getting to sign their names on the robe.

rewatched the gay and wondrous life of caleb gallo. i forgot how good it is, it really holds up and is still funny

also, continued doctor who watch/rewatch. i'm ngl i think the way rory and amy were shoved off screen was...really stupid. "he can't go back to that specific year in ny :(" ok, before amy gets zapped back you just go "yo go to new jersey in a few days" and go pick them up. really silly imo

playing: fallow. did buy miserichord, omori, and slay the princess in the steam summer sale. i have signalis, voyager 19, and a short hike in my cart as we speak. more games that i haven't played to feed the steam library let's goooo

making: crocheted some granny squares.

pattern for the yellow one is this lantana square...if anyone has any interesting looking granny square patterns that would be good in one solid color send em my way!

thinking of getting this pattern too.

i realized this past week that my urge to Make has been very stale and derivative the past few years, if that makes sense. like i don't feel Creative, i see something and mimic it - i do paintings based on photos i took, i follow knitting patterns, i come across something ceramic and decide to make one of my own, i find reference images to copy. but no actual, like, Inventing on my own end. i think that's why i haven't done a lot of fanart or fanfiction as well, just no ideas. i know that's just part of the cycle of creativity and i'm just in a "hunter-gatherer" period of amassing skills and references but idk. i'm tired of it. i want to create more meaningful things but i have no actual ideas, the well feels dry, and i'm not sure how to fix that.

eating: fallow

misc: stares at my mom and brother doing politics doomerism re: supereme court ruling in the family group chat. looks away. chants 'nothing ever happens' to myself like a mantra.

[frerrari]

HELLOOOOO yessssss i am the "lando norris i am sorry i wasn't ur mother" commentor hehehe and i cant believe YOU!!!!! think im funny ... little ol me .... coming from the genius writer of "now i know what it’s like to fuck zac efron in the 2010s" and oscar thinking of horner and toto in the middle of sex while the box of chocolates carlos has for his (probably homophobic?) dad next to them … or lando comparing oscar to being in severance in his own twink way of flirting with him … sorry i’m going off on a tangent here can u tell i feel a very normal about slipstream haha

BUT I CSNT BELIEVEEE u remember my comment i feel so giddy rn giggling nonstop like ao3 user honeyloop u dont saaaay 🤭🤭🤭🙈🙈🙈🙈

speaking of lando norris tho and how if i was his mother he wouldn’t be like this … wow. i sadly still have not reread the last update and left a longer comment like promised real sorry but i suddenly started finals (tbh i read the latest update like the morning of my first final so there’s that) BUT!!! god i want to like annotate ur writing wattpad comment style on every single word and study every single thing that comes out of lando’s mouth holy fuck .. and also how oscar internalizes it all and it’s such a sad fucking mindset he has like oscar we gon get u on some antidepressants buddy and lando ill just get u in touch with my doctor atp i dont have time to list the meds that i take that fixed me and maybe they’ll fix u too … feel bad that i have no thoughts on carlos but fun fact ur fic was the first carcar fic ive read ever and look at me now; i am endeared by carlos sainz and also slipstream made the podium of my fav f1 fics of all time (i have like 500+ f1 fics bookmarked for context) where am i going with this holy hell YES CARLOS tbh carlos is so interesting to me here bc not only is he a Real Lover but he’s also not afraid to show it and give and take care of those around him and just be so expressive which is sooo interesting to what oscar called him one time as this crazy “macho closeted spanish man” so it’s just very interesting to view everyone thru oscar’s eyes and his very unreliable sad eyes. i beg u in my head every day for a lando pov but also idk i kinda don’t want that (for now) bc it’s just so interesting to view lando thru what oscar thinks of him— he’s like a little hamster i have in a cage watching run laps on that wheel and he like trips every time bc there’s this specific edge on the wheel that he should avoid lando it’s been ur 5900th lap on this wheel come on buddy, learn! the way that also applies to oscar … carlos maybe free urself from these twinks and like go date alex he seems lovely and won’t have a hospital call u as an emergency contact bc they think he’s gonna kill himself … but alas i digress.

i genuinely have no fucking idea where i’m going with this but this is my very short???? love letter to u and ur sexy brain and yes i would love to discuss this with u all day every day like i dont even use discord outside of the 2 twitch streamers i watch and follow on there for updates but trust you’ll see me on discord as the #1 slipstream fan with my little ball of red yarn and pics on the wall trying to connect everything and how class three is a reoccurring theme here and like he’s been caught in a downpour. class— nurse she’s out again!!!

btw what im about to say is like way crazier than what ive just thrown at u but i want u to know that ur writing has changed the trajectory of my life soooo hard that now after races i dont even care for the podium celebrations im like cant wait to see what happens next in the slipstream universe now that oscar won in jeddah :3 was even excited to see carlos finish in the points (coming from my lecfosi ass) that i ranted to my carlos enjoyer friend that omggg im so happy carlos finished in the points it’s gonna add an interesting dynamic to the new slipstream universe and he looked so fucking concerned at me. so yeah

but i am totally very normal about this fic i promise 👍

this ask was such a special journey to me i feel like i should’ve packed snacks...... you took me so many places ao3 user nameredacted......

okay first off not you reading 14.5k of breakup porn (and actual porn it must be said) on the morning of your final???? i respect the hustle but bestie gotta be real w you i dont think you being lando’s mother would fix him if these are the behaviours we’re out here showing

okayyy wait im so glad this fic made you like carlos!!! i think i lost custody of him in the eyes of the public court so it’s nice to know that for every fictional carlos point taken away from me a new carlos is gained..... feels like homeostasis feels like inner balance

carlos “you break a lot of rules by loving me” sainz is a very complex teddybear to me which is so funny bc he is actually so simple at the core. but the combination between how normal his wants and needs are and how impossible it is to achieve them in the world they’re in gives him so many facets...... he’s like this round sexy gem that in any regular context would be perfectly smooth, just busting ass down the riviera, #homonormativity at the madrid pride, but in THIS context? f1 generational driver? all eyes on him everyone primed to make him either the butt of a joke or the next apotheosis of what it means to be a real man in this sport? 0 to 100 no in between??? it’s soooo.

crazy how carlos’s ideal sims ending would be so easy to achieve she needs so little to be happy but look what they’re doing to my girl out there. from a structural point of view (ESPECIALLY when filtered through media’s misguideeeed ass perception of him) (and also closeted sexuality) (and also the ever-tightening noose of gender & fatherhood & fame) he’s just as trapped as the rest of them

no notes on your lando takes i’m absolutely smitten....

he’s like a little hamster i have in a cage watching run laps on that wheel and he like trips every time bc there’s this specific edge on the wheel that he should avoid lando it’s been ur 5900th lap on this wheel come on buddy, learn!

need to actually study you and lando at the same time i think. this case study sampling just became n=2

all this is to say, there are many ways of not being normal about this fic as i’ve recently discovered, so i for one am glad you are not normal about it in a way that’s very fun to me and made some of the insanity of writing (and posting) that last update worth it a little bit. no thoughts on where the future is taking us in slipstream or beyond but hope we’ll both be there w/ this gorgeous crazy energy

[comfymoth]

(duckspiderbit anon) It can be nightmarish... but the hilarity of their dynamics combined and the sudden unexpected sweet moments they share at times make them perfect. Would LOVE to hear your thoughts on them btw, I'm very interested :D

anon i just want you to know that i have been trying to answer this ask since i woke up, i just apparently cannot talk about these fuckers without writing a novel, i am So Sorry.

i’m gonna try to be as short as i possibly can (spoiler warning it’s still not short IM SORRY) but like, basically. basically. in my head, right, in the version of events that lives in my head— roier and quackity already have a history. not exactly dating, just fooling around “as friends”, but it makes their friendship now very overly-familiar. they’re very touchy, very flirty, but at this point it’s all just playful. they’re just very comfortable with each other, you know? they’re best friends! and what best friends Aren’t this close, huh?

and cellbit isn’t fully aware of whatever they had going on before he knew them, but he knows there’s something he missed, like an inside joke he’ll never quite understand. and it’s not like that bothers him, exactly? because him and roier are completely secure, there’s never been a couple more fucking obsessed with each other, he knows he has zero reasons to feel threatened. it’s more like— he knows quackity is always going to special to roier, in this weird way, so they are just stuck with him. for better or worse. me and you and your friend steve, just a little bit, that’s kind of the vibe.

but it’s not like quackity and cellbit don’t also have their own share of familiarity. not nearly to the same extent, obviously, but they are familiar. cellbit gave him partial custody of his child, they’ve taken each others sides in disputes over how to raise said child, richas calls quackity pa, they are very much already stuck with each other anyways.

so like. what do you even do with that. right? what do you call your husband’s not-quite-ex and your co-parent, what does that make him to the two of you. and how is that impacted by the fact that he’s always desperately hitting on you both?

so again, in my head, in my head— i think it Has to be a slow burn with them. because quackity has baggage around relationships, right, he’s had a history of chasing romance just because he thinks it will fix him or make him feel something, and he needs time to cool off on that first. now, he never cools off on the flirting, i don’t think he ever physically could, but he needs to be okay with it not going anywhere. and i think spiderbit needs time to warm up to the opposite idea, that it might actually go somewhere. but over time they do. over time, quackity just worms his way into more and more of their life until they’ve basically made him a part of it without saying. they fall into comfortable routines. cellbit gets used to roier and quackity’s teasing, he starts to join in on it. over time, all the joke flirting just stops really being a joke, and all the friendly affection just escalates and escalates until they finally have to acknowledge what they’re doing.

they’re all very stupid about it. cellbit brings it up to roier first, who is somehow embarrassed because he thought they were all just joking and he was the only one catching feelings which he did NOT wanna think too hard about. they have a talk about what this means for them, come to an agreement, bring it up to quackity— who also somehow thought this was a bit and that they were just doing it all to tease him! and then, somehow, they’re both surprised when he says yes, because they couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. morons all around. they do have braincells, they just short circuit when they’re in a room together, it’s very sad and very comical

i actually…. okay, i Actually might’ve started writing the world’s most self indulgent oneshot about them, like… three or four weeks ago? idk, it was before school started so a bit ago, and i’m just never gonna finish it now i’ve accepted that but i Might just turn part of it into a comic. idk. idk we’ll see ahdkdjd if i don’t get too embarrassed to actually do it

anyways i’m sorry i talked so much i just have demons okay i have demons. and i didn’t even TALK about festa junina or “go take care of him” I MADE SO MANY CUTS GUYS I DID!!!!!

[hpdfag]

needle and bandage emoji to be specific . FORGOT TO INCLUDE THE BANDAGE

HI HI HELLO !!!!!!!!!!! WAVES this got long as fuck and i unmasked maybe a little too much so its hidden under the cut 4 now ... thank u for sending these in i always love a chance to ramble :3

🩹 - what would you do if your darling hurt themself??

auauahaghhhghhh i would feel SO TERRIBLE even if it wasnt my fault ... he deserves all of the grace in the world, i would do my best to make sure he knew i was there for him, that i really did love him, that he wasnt alone

i would worry about his safety very deeply, but i don't think i'd force him to stop. i'd tell him i was worried, and that i loved him, and that i wanted to do whatever i could, but ultimately it was up to him, you know?

ive had so many people react in just the worst most unhelpful ways when they figured out i had relapsed with self harm and i know i'd never wish that kind of insensitivity and callousness on my love, even if it was out of a place of love and care, i just want him to do what feels best for him

however if he carved my name in himself i think id. how do i put this in an appropriate manner. pass out. and if he wanted me to cut him up i would have a very hard time finding it in myself to say no ^_^ i may have some morals but they are a bit flimsy unfortunately

💉 - how far would you go to get your darlings love??

as far as i could push without him hating me or getting upset!! i think its a bit counter-intuitive to keep pushing and breaking down your darling until they give in. there's just no staying power to a relationship like that!

i'd mold myself into whatever he wanted, slowly but surely, so he wouldn't notice. if he said he prefered people with darker hair, a few weeks later, id get someone else to dye my hair and make them think it was their idea. if he wanted someone more assertive, who stood up for themselves more, slowly but surely id let myself grow, and try to find it in me to really speak my mind. if he wanted someone he could fix up, if he wanted a pet project he could be proud of, i'd let myself shatter, let myself fall into pieces again for him to put back together like kintsugi, better than i was before i fell apart because of him.

in general, im terrible at trying to take control. i fell first, but he was the one that asked me out, and then proposed. i try to be subtle, so there's no chance of me seeming overbearing. i'll become whatever he wants. anything at all.

i think also, part of this, is i trust him at this point to be able to control himself. he isnt some kind of idiot who only acts on base impulses, i trust that he loves me, and can have friends without becoming too buddy-buddy with them.

i couldn't kill anyone he cared about, it would make him too sad, and i'd be hesitant to throw a wedge between them, if only because we have such a small community back home. it would distort the balance. everyone relies on him, needs him, and i can't destroy that. i need to cultivate hope, not bring despair. our friends, they're scared of me, even if i'm relatively harmless. i think i could get people to back off pretty easily by just saying i was concerned, and they would know to do it in a way that didn't hurt hinata, because they know how serious i am about him. about his happiness. and they care about him too. so i would hope they know how to react to something like that. i would also hope it wont be necessary.

im planning on spending my life with him, not setting us both on fire. i need him to be happy. i need him to love me. i need to be able to love him to survive. ive toned myself down as much as i think i can in hopes of appeasing him. if i wasnt so scared of hurting him, i think i would kill for him. i think id cut us off from everyone if i didnt know it would kill them too. he's so important. i want everyone to be able to bear witness to his light, i just cant stand people who want to take it for themselves. they should know their place.

people who aren't from the island though? who just want to take him? they drive me insane. i cant stand them, the audacity they have, to think they're worthy to even be near him. to think he would love them the way he loves me. i value my own life, so i couldn't kill them. but i definitely want to sometimes. at the very least i'd cut them out of his life as swiftly as possible. FF workers, people from the mainland, people from this awful reality who think he'd ever call them his. id cut them out like a tumor. as quickly and as efficiently as possible, without any care for the fallout. the cancer would be gone.

[binalakai-archive]

🍅🧅🍏🥑 wahoo fruit party!!

How misunderstood is your OC? In-universe or IRL. oh god. okay. okay Hue Man on Earth is a story that is. REALLY hard for me to share, despite how much I do try to talk about it publicly (or at least update my toyhouse as much as possible when i feel like doing that), there's always that sense of. people either boiling my characters down to Tropes/who's the Bad one and who's the Good One. whos the character thats meant to be a personal attack on someone (none of them are) n whos the character that is meant to be relatable (none of them are PURPOSELY written to be that way) n it just. really goddamn sucks sometimes. i could talk about specifics with my main trio specifically, over the course of time that i've had Hue, Magni, and Clyde, theyve all been weirdly misunderstood in their own way that i have gotten to the point of having to reevaluate those folks n look inward into seeing if that perception of themselves can be weaved into the plot. but honestly i think ill catch myself in a bad mood atm if i think about it too hard. tldr on that; i try to microdose my story when sharing it to others, n even then i get really nervous about the idea that my story wont be valued/understood as a whole, which is partially of my own doing as well bc i do have a tendency to Put a Lot into characters once i get super attached to them. ..so nowadays im too burned out to do that :"P once i make that pitch bible, it probably still wont fix that, but its still a project im committing to nonetheless! 🧅 [ONION] What is surefire to make your OC cry? Who knows of this information? Hue) hard to answer with a creature like him. objectively, he doesnt cry. its not needed for him to release emotion the same way it does for Earth-things. but he does it anyway, or at least the equivalent (letting go of parts of his body in droplets from his eyes, just for them to crawl back to his body) it's less about "am i sad right now and do i have to cry" and more like "is crying appropriate for this situation.". after his Human arc in arc 5, its something he actually stops doing as a whole because experiencing the feeling of crying in a human body like. Actually Fucks him up REAL bad NJWKEFNAJKWFNAKWEF Magni) the "sillier" or "unrelated to themselves" the issue is, the more theyll have a tendency to genuinely cry over it. they cry when they know no one else is there to mourn over the problem they're crying about, which is why they'll have a very Stone Flat Face when Witnessing the horrors, but will have an absolute meltdown over dropping their favorite cup Clyde) Honestly that motherfucker will cry over. like....anything? Honestly? to the point where it can be unpredictable. Clyde's emotions are based less on the Cause of Crying and more about the intensity of its emotions. any time it gets overwhelmed, it will cry, and its been labeled a crybaby inuniverse because of that 🍏 [GREEN APPLE] How do they differ from the norm and how are they punished for it? answering this all together, and honestly without having to like. explain the whole plot of HMoE in one setting. Hue seen as different from the norm not because he's an alien but because he's technically an illegal immigrant, Magni and Clyde are autistic PoC that also Do Not Fit Well into their hometown whatsoever. may i need to say anything else. 🥑 [AVACADO] What will they never back down about, even if it makes them seem bad?

Hue) trying to be seen as a good person, even if it means doing the most heinous shit possible (as long as he's able to hide it/insist on good intentions) Magni) trying to be seen as the Right Person, even if it means twisting things in their favor SPECIFICALLY to be right (though will admit to it redhanded if theyre caught, more out of being impressed if anything) Clyde) trying to be seen as the Truthful Person, even if it means ruining everyone's day/life about it (it''ll try to seem like it doesnt care about being "bad", but it very much actually eats away at it. every single damn day)

[vintagepresley]

this is a long one but it needs to be said and TW

am I the only one that thinks lanas most sad and personal songs are ignored. (This is what makes us girls, heroin, wildflower wildfire, cherry blossom, fingertips, kintsugi, A&W)

like???????

This is what makes us girls is about her life after boarding school. ‘’Sweet 16 and we had arrived’’ she turned 16 in a plane on her way to Spain. ‘’I got sent away, I was waving on the train platform crying cause I know I’m never coming back’’ fuck Patricia grant

heroin is about her boyfriends from 2011 who passed away due to heroin overdose

‘’ im flying to the moon again, dreaming about heroin, how it gave you everything and took your life away’’

wildflower wildfire she refers to her mother as her dads wife ‘’my father never stepped in when his wife would rage at me’’

cherry blossom is possibly about a misscarriage. ‘’Little ghost, blonde hair’’. ‘’And when you’re scared, I’ll be right there, you feel afraid, mommy is there’’

kintsugi is a Japanese word for filling broken pottery with gold. She talks about sad things that have happened to her and then sings ‘’ that’s how the light gets in/shines in’’ so I think she’s talking about fixing her broken heart.

Fingertips (her saddest song ) she talks about her having a baby.

‘’Caroline, will you be with me? Will the baby be alright? Will I have one of mine? It’s said that my mind is not fit or so they said to carry a child. I guess I’ll be fine’’ by ‘they’ I assume she’s talking about Patricia. she talks about prescription pills that she doesn’t want to take but has to

‘’it wasn’t my idea the cocktail of things that twists neurons inside- but without them I’d die’’

she talks about her uncle commiting suicide and how it effected her

‘’and Dave who hung himself real high, in the national park sky’’. ‘’To get to you, save you, if I take my life find your astral body’’. ‘’Take you home i, i’ll give you a blanket your spirit can sit and watch tv by my side’’. ‘’I couldn’t handle it, I was in Monaco, I couldn’t hear what they said on the telephone, I had to sing for the prince in two hours’’

She talks about how she tried committing suicide

‘’when I was 15 naked next door neighbours did a drive by, pulled me up by my waist long hair to the beach side’’. ‘’But sometimes it’s just not your time’’

then about her mother

‘’ Caroline, what kind of mother was she to say is end up in institutions’’ ‘’Aaron ended up dead and not me. What the fucks wrong in your head to send me away never to come back? Exotic places and people don’t take the place of being your child’’

And then A&W the fist part. the song is about girlhood and the loss of innocence. It’s about how young girls are told to dress a specific way to not provoke adults or older people. And about how women are seen as objects by a lot of men. ‘’I haven’t done a cartwheel since I was nine’’ people were making jokes about this but she’s talking about how she became aware of what creepy men are like. She talks about being bullied for her body by the public (2021 during lockdown). Which she still looked gorgeous btw!!! A&W stands for American whore but it’s also an American food drive thru thing. And drive thru are associated with strippers/prostitutes sometimes. This could imply that she’s being used for only when he wants her. ‘’forensic files wasn’t on watching teenage diary of a girl wondering what went wrong’’ she’s saying that instead of watching diary of a teenage girl and being fed lies about girlhood, she should have been watching forensic files so she knew how messed up people and their minds can be. then she talks about being raped

‘’ I mean look at my hair, look at the length of if there and the shape of my body. If I told you that I was raped do you really think that anybody would think I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t ask for it’’

when sexual assault survivors come forward and they have to go to court to testify or make a statement the rapists are often dismissed because apparently the victim asked for it to happen. There was a case of a girl wearing a thong who was raped and the judge said it was her fault and that she shouldn’t have been wearing a thong (vile). ⬅️ ‘’ I won’t testify I already fucked up my story’’. Like yeah the second half or A&W if amazing. But why haven’t I seen anyone talk about the first half when it has so much meaning. I’m sure any female has gone though the realisation process of how messed up the world is and how (mostly men but not all) think of women as objects.

I’m so sorry this is really long but it’s so sad that I’ve not seen anyone talk about her sad and personal songs. DYKTTATUOB is definitely in my opinion a healing album for Lana. I think She’s getting everything out there and wants to have a restart. And her finishing it with a second edition of Venice bitch!!!!!! She knew what she did with that but Lana is happy , and she’s glowing more than she ever has and that’s the most important thing.

THISSSS. I feel like a lot of people didn’t really like this album which was weird to me but then I also feel like people didn’t really listen to it. I think everyone was expecting her usual stuff. But this album is definitely one of my favorites. The songs you just listed are so damn good! Fingertips is another fave of mine! The lyrics are so damn sad in all these songs and you can definitely hear how she’s healed from it as well.

THANK YOU FOR THIS AND THANK YOU FOR SAYING IT.

[thisistheworldofgays]

i feel like some of the most visceral reactions to posts ive ever made are ones that will have gone entirely forgotten to anyone, the 2 note posts where i turned around a post of myself made in sadness and shame and spoken kindly to myself.

changing a "im just so worthless and annoying and bothersome" into a "i feel like a burden on my loved ones" and then, again deleting it and typing out "I love my friends a lot, and i dont want them to feel negative, im worried i am making their lives harder. im a person who loves a lot and it stresses me out sometimes, even if i know they support me and even if i know i myself tolerate annoyances which are just a part of life." and then finally, deleting it all again and simply posting "i love my friends."

changing a "im some kind of fucking monster and nobody will ever tell me" to a "i feel like ive mistreated others, but its never disclosed what i did. i dont want to hurt people and i dont like when my loved ones are hurt. the idea of being someone who hurts them really distresses me." into "when people who have mistreated me imply i have hurt them or others but dont explain how, it's difficult." into finally "i dont deserve to be lied to and when i make a mistake, i want to fix it."

i feel like its one of the better skills ive learned and i need to take the initiative more often and the discipline to notice when i need it.

its very powerful. sometimes when i talk nicely to myself like that i just break down. the times im spiraling hardest and i take the outside voice of the internal self and i say kindly, "thats not true." and revise it. allow myself to speak back to a silent myself. "i just feel this way. but i feel that way because of this, and i feel that way from that because i..."

vague EX: i felt angry with myself because i was hurt. i felt angry when i was hurt because it was rude. nobody deserves to be lashed out at, i deserve kindness and peace.

or, right now:

what was even the point of remaking if i was going to do half the fucking job of what i wanted to do for myself? am i so pretentious as to tell people how to live their lives when i regularly fail to re-implement those rules into my own life?

i feel regretful that i have misused a good opportunity to return to a better mental place. i felt like a happier and more complete person back then, and i know it's a matter of wills and discipline to get back there. i feel like ive failed myself and everyone else whenever i fail to do this. i have a lazy streak and i just wish i had more drive and determination.

no recovery is linear. i have not "lost" anything sense i moved away from that self. in actuality, ive learned a lot sense than, and i learned a lot from the experience. im grateful to have had it, and now that i know how to get there, i can return when im ready. if i fail to return there, i am not ready, and i have not in fact failed anything. every kindness i give myself is growth, and the cruelties i give to myself is not regression, it is simply something which has been. the kindnesses i allow myself and others are much more powerful than the intolerances, i should focus on kindness towards myself. it feels impossible to balance my potential selfhoods, but its just something i need to learn. i have my entire life to do this, and when i reach my point of peace, i very well may leave it again. the goal should not be to balance myself there, but instead to learn from whats around me and better myself for myself and others by my lessons, and serve to teach others from what i have learned.

i am someone who is in control and in touch with myself. i want to help the people around me. i should have patience with myself and cast away concepts of self failure. i do not lose from wisdom gained. all of life is changing, a change of mental scenery does not imply i have failed to hold life impossibly still. moving forward is a sign of life lived. i am in control of my path, and i am in no rush. all things are temporary, even my future goals.

i am in control of myself and i know that i deserve to cultivate a better mental place. i will get there when i get there. i have learned a lot and i am capable of making these changes.

notice how each step i just navigated myself through became lighter. even if i had stopped at the second introspection, it would have been an improvement. i would not have "failed to reach the final stages", i would have made the triumph of being gentler to myself and clearing the first.

[treatbuckywkisses]

this took me WAY too long to read and it's nobody's fault but my own

Fifth upon a time (I'm sad this is not ringy at all)

"She gave you about an hour before the hatch in the floor boards opened, even though for you, it was much longer. She didn’t know that, though. You sat very still, your breath finally silent again. Maybe she didn’t know you were in here." - THAT IS SO SAD WHAT THE FUCK I DID NOT EXPECT SADNESS IMMEDIATELY 

some real life good advice from strange ??? Where am I rn 😲 

SHUT UP HE GOT COFFEE 😭🥹

""You know me, doc," you answer, letting the power crackle again ever so slightly. It’s a thrill, getting to feel it again. "Careful’s basically my middle name."" - LIAR LIAR IM EXCITED SHES PLOTTING SOMETHING 

""What are you doing?" He doesn’t sound annoyed at all; more entertained. You take a step back, assessing, but his face doesn’t betray him whatsoever. " WE'VE BEEN MADE 😭

"Oh, you hate this. " - this interaction feels flirty and I'm ready to start yelling 

STOP BRINGING UP THE FLOOR DAMNIT IT HURTS 

"But you stop talking, because he’s already taking a tentative nip of yor drink, and then he licks his lips. And they curl slightly upwards." - this has me so soft ??? He likes her coffee order I'm so ?????????? UGH ?? HE LIKES HER FUCKING CODFEE BRO

"And then you realize what’s really happening, and the world chokes, like something falling into place." - I am the world and I am choking up .

GOD THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH ITHER AND YALK FO EACH ITHER UOU ARE SO BAD IM SO HSHSKSHAKHS AND YOU FUCKING MSDE THEM HOLD HANDS OHMYHFO ARE YOU JOKING RIGHT NOW 

"You’re going to fix this mess you’ve created, if it’s the last thing you do." - this is slightly worrisome (I'm scared of you)

LITERAL CHILLS for the whole ending sequence my God do you know how to write 😍 you're insane I hate this story 

How do you have me so emotional with some grand idea and some click clacking on a keyboard you have such talent i want to scream forever about

time after time [5]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 10.9k

chapter warnings: nothing except the usual ones; another panic attack near the end; the riveting resolution of the coffee side quest? please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: after my week of technical difficulties (got shadowbanned, had a breakdown, bon appétit), this chapter finally made it to tumblr as well. thank you so much to everyone who reached out, it's meant more than you know!! <3 this one starts out fairly harmless and then i threw some punches again and for that i apologise

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

five: carousel

The first mission they took you on was nothing short of a disaster.

It should have been simple, was simple, a quick extraction to get a microchip from this decimated group of criminals operating out of an abandoned toy store that Nat had discovered through one of her contacts. You were only supposed to tag along to get a feeling for being out in the field, an additional pair of eyes just in case things went south.

Did they ever.

Not only was the chip accidentally destroyed, your ensuing panic got you stuck for a good twenty minutes until the world started spinning again. Steve fell down a full flight of stairs when you reappeared out of thin air next to him the moment it did.

Needless to say, you went into hiding as soon as you got back to the Compound.

She gave you about an hour before the hatch in the floor boards opened, even though for you, it was much longer. She didn’t know that, though. You sat very still, your breath finally silent again. Maybe she didn’t know you were in here.

"I know you’re up here, Y/N."

You pulled the cape off your head with a sigh. Natasha grimaced.

"Don’t do that, I’m not talking to a floating head," she said with a shudder. "You know how weird that is?"

You huffed and let her pull the fabric into her lap, watching your own limbs reappear, your arms hugged around your knees. She sat down next to you, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. You watched a spider scatter away from you.

"How did you even find me?" you asked quietly after she made no further attempts to speak to you.

"My sister had a similar hiding spot when we were little." You could hear the smile in her voice as she said it. "And you kicked up quite a bit of dust."

She didn’t elaborate on either of those things and you didn’t ask, even though you wanted to. Anything that could get your mind off what happened.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah," you said dryly. "That’s why I’m sitting in the supply closet."

"That’s exactly what I told Steve." Your face fell again, but hers didn’t. "He’s alright. Or he will be, once he forgives me for laughing at him for five minutes."

That didn’t make you feel any better. "I fucked up today," you said softly, your voice still rough.

"You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I did, though. I literally froze as soon as things went wrong, and the chip—"

"Is expendable," Natasha interrupted calmly.

You shook your head. "I only mess everything up for you guys. I’m not a real agent, and my powers just make things worse, and I should just—"

"Do you realize that this thing you were given can be a gift?" You cringed and started turning away, but Natasha reached out for you, a gentle hand on your arm. "I mean it. You think every time you’re unable to use your powers is your personal failure, but you don’t see how every time you are able to use them is precious."

There was a delicate hue to her green eyes, a weariness that was visible even in the dim light of the closet. For the first time, you had the feeling she let you see something she usually wouldn’t.

"Our lives … they’re hard," she went on. "Unpredictable. We live on borrowed time. And you get to have more of it. That’s …" You waited for the words you’d heard before. Invaluable. Instrumental. Priceless. "Beautiful."

You swallowed hard. "Is that why you took me on? For the team?"

Nat looked at you for so long you were almost sure she wasn’t going to answer your question. Then, she said, "I took you on because you needed a reason to get up in the morning."

You stared at her, your nails digging into the palm of your hand until it hurt more than the ache in your chest. Natasha kept looking at you as she continued.

"I lost a lot of people over the years, you know. But never like this. Never this many at once. Something like that …" She trailed off, her eyes wet. "The entire planet was grieving and struggling and blaming us, because at that point hardly anyone understood any of it apart from the fact that the Avengers were involved. And then one day, out of nowhere, a letter materialized on our doorstep, and the security cameras didn’t show a thing." Her grip on your arm tightened, as if she needed to steady herself. "Do you remember what you wrote?"

I’m sorry for your loss.

You’d struggled to put it down for days, because how else could you apologize for something you might have been able to prevent had you only been there instead of hiding? In the end, you’d only added your name and the address of that diner in Brooklyn where you picked up a few shifts after their waitress had been blipped.

You’d gotten a call less than twenty-four hours later.

"You were the first person to say that," Nat continued, because she could see the memories flit across your face as easily as others watched a movie. "And yet, when you got here, you looked as guilty as if you’d personally murdered every single one of the Vanished."

"Well, if I’d been with you—"

"Stop it." For the first time, her voice was sharp. Your mouth fell closed. "We’re all trying to do better, right?"

You could only nod.

"That’s all anybody here is ever going to ask of you. And sometimes 'better' is just getting one hell of a kick in during a mission. Don’t think I didn’t see that."

You smiled ever so slightly. "I have a pretty good teacher."

"Yeah, you do." She shoved your shoulder lightly. "You can’t do more than show up and do your best, honey."

"My best looks like a dead possum next to yours."

"Then stop looking at me." Natasha got up to her feet slowly, patting you on the knee when she did. "Unless it’s for a post mission wind down because I have a movie queued up and I know where Steve hid the cookies."

"Can I have my cape back?"

"Nope." She folded it up with the green side out, letting it hang loosely over her arm. "You’re supposed to use it to hide from your enemies, not your friends."

You didn’t attempt to argue further, warmth rising to your cheeks.

"Nat?" She turned again, halfway down the hatch, caught by the emotion in your voice. "Thank you."

Her smile told you that, as always, she understood.

*****

There simply isn’t a world in which you can do this even one more time. It’s too much.

"You need to sort out your priorities," Sam says, zero sympathy in his voice. Bucky has the audacity to look amused.

"I’m serious," you say, looking between the two of them. "My day is bad enough already. I don’t care where we order, but it’s not going to be Italian unless you want me to puke on your cat."

Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve eaten your way through the entirety of your pizza place’s menu. If you have to smell the rank cheese Sam likes to order one more time, you can’t be held responsible for your actions.

"How about sushi?" Bucky says, and you almost start protesting out of habit before you realize that for once, he’s not arguing your side. You turn to Sam with an expectant grin.

"Fine," he grunts, shaking Alpine off his trouser leg as gently as he can while his nose twitches. "I guess Russian Doll has the right to choose his last meal."

Bucky frowns at him, but you gasp in delight. "Are you finally joining us in dark humor land, Sammy?"

He flips you off wordlessly as he leaves the room and you chuckle to yourself, pulling up the sushi menu on your phone. Alpine starts nibbling on the bandage around your foot that’s stretched out on the couch and you wiggle your toes a bit. It seems to entertain her.

"What," you ask when the staring becomes unbearable.

"Nothing."

When you lift your gaze to meet Bucky’s, his jaw is clenched again, his eyes fixed on you with a distant expression in them. You tilt your head, and he lowers his.

"So what’s the plan?"

You send your part of the order to FRIDAY and put your phone to the side. "I have to get back to Strange to figure out how to stop this loop from happening again."

You’ve almost felt sorry to see your series of library heists break, even though you have no reason to feel his way. This is progress. Strange���s offer to help has been genuine enough so far, even though you hate paying him in answers.

Now that he’s not deliberately keeping you out anymore, getting to the astral plane has been a lot easier, at least, even though emptying your mind enough to cross over without a prior emotional breakdown has still proven somewhat difficult. Weirdly, it’s easiest on the couch.

Bucky nods shortly. "And what do I do?"

"Whatever you want."

He scoffs. "Right."

It makes your insides twist. "Bucky, as much as I hope that today is the last time we’re doing this, I can’t guarantee it. So you should just, I don’t know, enjoy yourself." You cringe even as you say it.

"I wanna come see Strange."

You blink, watching him clench and unclench his fists slowly, deliberating. The golden parts of his arm gleam in the sunlight. "Why?"

His voice, when he speaks, sounds haunted. "I can’t just sit around and do nothing."

Something in his voice sticks with you as you lie down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. You’re not even sure if what he’s asking is possible.

"No, it’s not," Strange says bluntly. "Not as long as you’re in the loop."

"Why not?"

"Stop asking questions and focus."

With a roll of your eyes, you raise up your arms again. So far, you’ve spent most of your so-called lessons trying to make sense of the cryptic texts Strange makes you read and then summarize like you’re in fifth grade. If you’re not doing that, you’re talking him through the events of your July 4th, or explaining your powers to the best of your abilities, going through the motions and habits you’ve taught yourself over the years. It all feels like you’re revealing something very personal for someone else to judge.

You don’t care much for any of it.

"Again."

"Is this supposed to teach me something new?" you ask, turning your thumb and first two fingers upwards again while your other hand balls into a fist by your side.Threads of sunlight glittering like spun gold. You take a breath and shake your head.

"Do you feel anything?"

Annoyance. You bite your tongue and reach out, carefully, like you would to a scared animal, searching for that old familiar feeling.

It takes a while.

Dim, at first, but clearly there, vibrating deep in your veins, hesitantly stumbling towards your hands like it was suprised, too, to be called upon again. Softly glowing embers slowly filling the void you’ve grown so hopelessly accustomed to.

You open your eyes to find the tiniest green spark dancing across your fingertips and almost laugh in relief.

"Interesting," Strange says.

You flick your fingers softly, once, twice, letting the spec of power grow until it’s the size of a pinhead, cradling it softly with your other hand as if to protect it from a gust of wind. Slowly, bit by bit, it settles back into your skin, and you feel it tingling all the way up to your ears.

Strange contemplates you for a long moment. "When did you get that cut?" he finally asks.

At this point, you should be used to his unfazedness. "Yesterday," you say, the 'obviously' clinging to every syllable. Riff was putting up a better fight than usual; or maybe you’re getting sloppy again.

Strange moves his right hand in that circular motion you’ve seen him do before, and the air in front of you cracks. It’s weird to see your own slightly translucent reflection suspended in the middle of your room. The gash on your cheek has barely had the chance to scab. You subconsciously reach for your necklace again.

"Look at the wound, and hold your hands like this."

You try and mimic Strange’s gesture. "I feel ridiculous." Like a mime. Or a really bad stage magician.

"Good," he says. "Now focus your powers, and follow my lead."

You watch Strange move his shaky hands out of the corner of your eye while trying to concentrate on that little spec of power you’ve felt earlier. Slowly, itchingly, the wound starts knitting itself together, as if it’s been healing for days. The skin smoothes over as if nothing had ever happened.

A rush of excitement goes through you at the sight, and there’s a stutter. With a flash of pain, the cut tears up again and you flinch, your hands falling.

"Fuck."

"I told you to focus."

"Well, if only saying it made it happen," you snap, then try again. This time, you let go of your power more carefully, almost coaxing it down. The gash doesn’t heal completely, but at least it looks better than what you started with. Strange watches you closely, brow furrowed deeply in thought.

"Let’s try something different," he says, and with another flick of his wrist, the mirror vanishes again. "Sit down."

You bristle at the command, but obey. A sidelong glance confirms that your sleeping body’s cut on the cheek has somewhat improved as well. There seems to be something connecting the two of you after all.

"When is this here, anyway?" you ask.

Once again, he doesn’t give you an answer. With another quick movement he grabs something through a small portal and throws it at you without any regard to your reflexes. You grab it off the bed incredulously.

"That’s … a meditation CD."

"Congratulations," Strange says. "You can read."

"You’re not serious."

"Deadly." He unfastens his cloak, which flies over to drape itself over the reading chair like a blanket, and then joins you on the floor, crossing his legs as well. It’s bizarrely casual. "If you don’t learn to focus," he continues, "there’s no moving forward from this point."

You huff, holding the CD out for him to take back. He doesn’t. "I’ve tried meditation," you say impatiently. "It doesn’t work for me. My mind—it doesn’t work for me."

"Your mind what?"

"It’s too loud."

You put the CD on the ground with a little too much force, moving to twist your rings around again, but they’re still absent. Your nails dig into your skin, instead.

"Did you know I don’t really forget stuff? Did I tell you that?" You laugh humorlessly, because what else can you do. "Fun side effect of the traveling back and forth through time. I always know where I’ve been and what I’ve done, and what everyone else has done while I was there. All that information is in my head, all the time, and I can’t get rid of it."

"All the more reason to have it quiet down every once in a while," Strange says calmly.

You want to strangle him.

"Believe me, I’d love nothing more, but I can’t. It’s not like I’m a computer and you can do the whole 'Hello, this is IT, have you tried turning it off and on again?' It doesn’t work like that."

"You do know a lot about how things don’t work."

"Welcome to my world," you mutter, flexing your fingers and crossing your arms before you draw blood.

Strange sighs. "Your mind isn’t a hard drive. No matter what your powers entail, your brain is still human. And it needs to rest every once in a while."

For some reason, in the middle of this whole crazy situation, that thought settles. Maybe it’s because it’s possibly the first genuinely kind sentiment he’s shown you so far. Maybe you’re just tired of pushing.

"How?" It’s more a croak than a question.

"Just stay like that and breathe." You look at him incredulously and he raises an eyebrow. "What? No one said you have to think nothing. It’s fine if you just sit there with your thoughts."

There’s a short pause. "That sounds terrifying," you admit quietly.

Strange considers you for a long moment, as if he’s contemplating what to say, until he finally admits, "I know."

***

You blink awake slowly this time, as if gradually awakening from a deep sleep. The TV is on again, quietly chattering in the background, and a weight on your legs tells you that Alpine has found a new spot again.

A glance at your phone shows that surprisingly little time has passed. When you sit up, the white cat on top of you complaining loudly, you can see Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, laptop closed, talking to Sarah on the phone.

The fact that you’re not alone quite yet is weirdly comforting.

In a moment of sleepy contentment, you reach out to scratch Alpine under the chin like you’ve seen Bucky do countless times. Curiously, she lets you without immediately extending her claws. At least for a moment.

"You’re awake."

Immediately, Alpine loses interest in you and jumps onto the backrest of the couch to nestle her head into Bucky’s palm. You roll your eyes.

"Keen observation, sarge."

He slowly peels his gloves off, not quite looking at you. "What did he say?"

Right. There was that.

"Nothing, to be honest," you say, folding up the throw blanket Sam must have put over you while you were sleeping. "Apart from the fact that he really can’t actually do as much as one would think."

"Can’t, or doesn’t want to?"

You shrug. "Same difference."

Despite everything, somehow you feel inclined to believe that there really isn’t a way to get Bucky to the astral plane, though. After all, things haven’t been normal ever since this loop began; and since you’re the only one who can lift it, maybe that also means you’re the only one who can do things like that.

You can only hope that at some point, something—anything—you do is going to stick.

Bucky studies your face, but doesn’t tell you whatever is still clearly gnawing at him. You don’t know why for a moment, you thought he would.

It reminds you of something you haven’t asked in a while.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

His mouth opens, but he doesn’t speak immediately. "Like what?"

"It’s just …" You struggle with the words, as if your mind is still half-asleep. "In some of the loops, it was kind of …" You trail off when you notice he’s holding something in his other hand. "Did you go get coffee again?"

Bucky clears his throat. "Yeah. I thought since you didn’t get one earlier, ya know …"

You’ve stopped getting caffeinated drinks for yourself in the mornings to make it easier to get to that voidlike state you need to be in to enter the astral plane. It’s been making you rather irritable; though, truth be told, that might also be due to Strange’s charming personality.

"That’s nice," you say, reaching for the paper cup with your name on it, taking a sniff before tasting it carefully. It’s perfect. "I should change my habits," you say lightly, "if Lucy knows my order even if I don’t pick it up myself."

"Who’s Lucy?" Bucky says, sitting down on the couch next to you.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "The pretty one on register? Stars and stripes on her cheeks?" He hums noncommittantly and you decide it’s not worth the effort. "What did you get?" you ask with a nod to the second cup.

"Just … coffee."

You squint to read the sticker, but he puts his fingers over it in a motion so smooth it almost hides its defensiveness. There’s the slightest hint of a grin on his face as you scowl, trying to catch his sleeve to get him to twist the writing back in your direction. Your thumb grazes cool metal and you still. Bucky does, too.

"Did she actually give you her number?"

Your laugh comes out through your nose, somehow, as if it’s not much more than a breath. The expression on Bucky’s face doesn’t quite fit his widening grin, or the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, but you couldn’t say why.

"So?" he says. Alpine stares at you accusingly, settling in his lap once more.

"Nothing!" It comes out quickly. "I’m not surprised. I mean, she thinks you’re hot."

His eyebrow quirks. "Does she, now?"

You take a gulp of coffee so large it makes your eyes water. "Her shift’s probably over by now. You should call her."

"Why," Bucky says wryly.

"To take her out." Should you be weirded out by the fact that this is happening as soon as Bucky entered the store without you? You tug at the ring on your pinkie.

"Why do you want me to take her out if I’m gonna die later?" Bucky asks.

"Well, it might take your edge off for one."

"And why does my edge concern you?"

"Have you met yourself?" You shrug, your ears drumming. "Besides, it might be fun."

He doesn’t look at you as he takes a sip from his own coffee, as if still determined not to let you see his reaction. "You have a strange definition of fun."

Alpine yawns as if to agree. You stand up abruptly, suddenly nauseated from drinking too fast.

"I’m just gonna …"

Again, you don’t finish your sentence, and Bucky doesn’t stop you from grabbing your takeout containers and taking them with you to your room, where you stare at the toilet for a good minute, waiting for the queasiness to pass. Your meet your own gaze in the mirror.

The cut on your face looks better than it did a few hours ago.

You walk back into your bedroom and take a critical look at your bookcase.The Wind in the Willows is back in its place where it belongs. What isn’t there is the CD Strange finally managed to force upon you.

The rules of this multiverse crap are going to give you another migraine on top of your current one.

You sit down on the floor next to your window to eat, but your cheek keeps itching until you notice yourself tapping your chopsticks against the plastic container so hard soy sauce is splashing everywhere. With a displeased twitch of your mouth, you reach for your phone.

It rings for a very long time and you realize it’s already past midnight in Seoul when finally, there’s a voice on the other end.

"This better be good, agent Y/L/N."

Her voice is quiet, tired, and you press the phone to your ear even harder. "Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

Doctor Helen Cho sighs deeply on the other end of the line, and you can almost picture her leaning back in her ergonomic office chair. "Alright."

You toy with the edges of the building scab on your cheek. "Is it possible for someone to go through physical changes and … not go through them at the same time?"

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. "Are you asking me if Schrödinger’s cat is real or not?"

A living being that simultaneously is and isn’t dead? That’s a paradox you have an answer for.

The problem, as always, is you.

"Sort of. I don’t know." You bite your lip.

"You realize quantum mechanics is not exactly my specialty, right?" Even while she says that, you can hear the clicking of her keyboard. "You are talking about a body, I presume. A human one?"

"Mhm."

"And the changes?"

You think of the cut and the writing and Bucky’s blood on your sheets. And your changed clothes. "They’re only to the body itself. Everything around stays the same. Pretty much like Schrödinger’s cat, I guess. Nothing about the box changes." Ever.

There’s another pause before Helen speaks again.

"Look, as far as I know—and with all these new and upcoming aliens and superheroes and so on that have been appearing over the past couple of years that’s less and less, mind you—but as far as I know, humans can only be in one state at one particular time. There’s ways to accelerate healing processes or even meddle with the body in other ways, but it’s still an either–or scenario."

"So, it’s impossible?" you ask, biting your cheek.

"It’s improbable, based on what I understand." Time has definitely started to bleed into itself, then. Great. "But like I said, that’s not really my area of expertise," she continues. "Speaking of, though, I got an e-mail from your new captain earlier."

"You did?" you ask, surprised. Sam hasn’t said anything to you, not today or any other iteration of it.

"You can tell him I’m hearing the same things he has," Helen says. "My lab wasn’t approached, but I have a colleague at a partner institution who left for Madripoor a couple of weeks ago."

You’ve barely thought about ULTIMATUM and their experiments since you laid everything out for Sam and Bucky earlier this morning. Another wave of guilt flashes through you.

"I’ll tell him," you say tonelessly. "Thanks, Helen."

"In this hypothetical of yours," Helen says before you can hang up. "Who’s the observing party?"

You watch the green symbols circle around your wrist, once, twice, three times. "I’m not sure yet."

You stare at them for a while longer after the call disconnects.

"There’s nothing to observe when the flow of time is reduced to a single day," Strange says when you relay the question to him the next day, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"So there would be, usually?" you ask, eyes narrowing as you try to channel the flow of your powers into the palm of your hand, like he’s told you.

"It’s not a perfect comparison," he answers. "The cat is only dead or not because time passes. Time is only our way of perceiving space dimensionally."

"Time and relative dimension in space," you hum with a light smile. Your palm starts tingling. "But if it’s not that, either, then … I still feel like there has to be something I’m missing here."

Every single review of the mission fills in another piece of the puzzle, the map of the lab you draw on the whiteboard growing more and more detailed each day, but still, it’s never enough. You miss the way Steve would draw out detailed building plans and escape routes before any mission, such ease to the stroke of his pen; your own talent for drawing is borderline abysmal by comparison.

The green shimmer around your hand dissipates again. Strange groans, fingers massaging his temple like he, too, is getting a headache from this stupid realm. His cloak wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"What you’re missing," he says through gritted teeth, "is the point of this exercise."

"Enlighten me," you snap back.

You watch him take a deep breath before he answers. "Do you, or do you not realize that this isn’t all about you?"

You huff. "If you say something like this is the universe imparting a message upon me, I got that point. The message is that I suck at what I’m doing."

"If that’s the message, then how come you’re not the one who’s really getting knocked around every single day?"

The anger and remorse that wash over you make your power flare up like a bolt of electricity, your fingertips and the dark of your eyes flashing an eery shade of green. You can feel the little hairs in the back of your neck stand up. Strange only looks at you, his expression unexpectedly somber.

"At least he doesn’t remember," you say tonelessly.

Strange smiles, but there’s no joy in it. "Indeed," he says.

The rush ebbs off, bit by bit, and you blink to get rid of the last of the strange double vision you sometimes get when time stutters again.

"You keep telling a man he will die today because you think that’s best for him," Strange goes on. "Better than him getting to choose his own path. Have you ever paid attention to how he spends his last precious hours once he knows?"

Of course you have. Sitting around in the Tower, going over mission plans again and again. Getting coffee. Lurking in doorways, leaning against walls, thinking, talking, looking.

It’s all time spent with you, and Sam, and Alpine.

It’s weird that you shouldn’t have realized this fact when in the beginning, you kept wondering about the time he came back to the Tower. Because before you’ve started telling him, Bucky always left.

Maybe that’s what you’re missing.

"Careful," Strange says, noticing your change in expression.

"You know me, doc," you answer, letting the power crackle again ever so slightly. It’s a thrill, getting to feel it again. "Careful’s basically my middle name."

***

"Doesn’t matter," Bucky says when you ask him what he’d be up to if you hadn’t told him about the loop.

"Oh no, leave me out of this. That’s his thing," Sam says when you ask him about the whole thing, and he so clearly knows what it is and yet refuses to tell you.

"None of your business," Bucky says when you press the matter, his jaw clenched tightly, and you hate to do this, but you don’t exactly have limitless options here. Besides, it’s the first new idea you’ve had in a while, which means there’s an almost moral obligation for you to go through with it. And still.

This feels wrong, you think when Sam comes to knock at your door and you throw on your gym clothes, pulling the sweatband over your wrist tightly.

This feels wrong, you think when you climb into the ring as if nothing had ever happened, as if this was just a normal day. Your side is still a little sore, but you’re able to play it off as a scratch with ease. How would he know to call you out on it?

This feels wrong, you think when you close your eyes as you lie on the mat and wait. You promised.

"You look like shit."

Your head turns like muscle memory. "Hey."

"Hi." Bucky’s eyebrow raises at your silence, but you’re not sure if the words aren’t just going to come bursting out of you. You have a tell. "You alright?"

Your grin tastes just a little bitter. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Right." He doesn’t quite believe you, of course, but it’s fine. You can do this.

You turn your gaze back to the ceiling and try to recall the very first July 4th, the version of you that you were. She resists you slipping her back on, but you take another deep breath, just like you’ve been practicing. A chuckle slips free.

"Fuck you, Barnes."

Your heart is still beating fast in your chest, but he must chalk it off to the training, because you can hear him huff. "There she is."

You close your eyes with a petulant sigh, just in case he can see your conscience written all over them. Again, you remind yourself that you tried asking him, that you tried everything else, that this is the only option you can think of right now.

"You’re horrible." It’s more like talking to yourself out loud, but of course Bucky doesn’t know that. And the sad truth is, he’s used to your temper.

"Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one."

You give an affirmative hum, waiting until you hear the door close behind him. Then, you rush to the showers, wasting no time to get ready and dressed again.

Bucky walks out the door of the Tower at precisely 09:43, a fact you know thanks to the time stamps on the security footage from the lobby you had FRIDAY pull up early on in the loop. This leaves you with a pretty small window of time to clean up, add another line to the tally on your thigh, and get back to your room to grab your stuff without making what you’re doing to obvious to either him or Sam. You have FRIDAY call up the elevator with barely a minute to spare, going down to the second floor and quickly heading towards the stairs. Behind you, the elevator dings once.

You basically sprint downstairs, readjusting your backpack. You almost barrel into the fire door, peering through the window into the lobby after another glance at your watch. Only a few seconds later, you can see Bucky walk across the entrance hall, the usual resting scowl on his face as he looks around once and then ducks out the side door.

You tug the cap you found at the back of your closet deeper into your face and start after him.

This feels wrong, and it’s a terrible idea, you can’t help but think as you watch him head down Lex, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. His strides are long, but unhurried, and even though you know he’s the furthest thing from vulnerable, the fact that you’re seeing him unguarded like this doesn’t sit right with you. Nevertheless, you continue.

You expect him to head for the subway, but instead, he turns left after the Chrysler Building, going east. With a slightly confused frown, you briefly join a group of clearly lost tourists to cross the street and follow him back up Third Avenue. At least there’s just enough people around to make it easy enough for you to hide in a crowd, you suppose.

You’re going to follow him, and find out what he’s up to, and then you’re going to see if and how it all connects to this stupid loop.

Easy as that.

It’s about an hour and a half later when you seriously start cursing Bucky’s name. Inexplicably, he’s still just walking around the streets of Manhattan like a fucking peasant. Your clothes are sticking to your body in ways you don’t care to describe, and you’re sick of having to pretend to be interested in shitty Independance Day memorabilia and battered paperbacks on sale while trying to avoid eye contact with the people trying to sell them to you.

You’re also pretty sure you’re walking around in circles.

Letting your head fall into your neck, you blink up into the bright sunlight from underneath the shade of your cap. As always, there is not a single cloud in sight, a perfect Friday in July. It’s making your eyes burn.

You glance back at Bucky, who has continued walking after taking a look at his phone, and sigh. All of this would be so much easier with your powers.

"What on earth are you up to," you mumble to yourself as you watch him take another left.

You count to ten before rounding the corner as well—and then you yelp when you almost slam into Bucky’s chest.

"What are you doing?" He doesn’t sound annoyed at all; more entertained. You take a step back, assessing, but his face doesn’t betray him whatsoever.

"Going on a walk," you try cautiously.

"Yeah, right." He tilts his head, features despicably neutral. "Why are you following me?"

"I’m not?" He stares at you, and you groan. "Fine. I just wanted to see where you’re going?"

"Why?" There’s an edge to his voice that you can’t quite make sense of, but your thoughts tumble right over it, scrambling for an excuse and coming up empty. The glint in his eye is distracting.

"Because …" Because you don’t know what else to do at this point. "I don’t know, I was just curious."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "That’s a lot of dedication when you could’ve just asked."

You look at him doubtfully. "So you’d have told me?" you say, already knowing the answer.

"No." He puts his hands back into his pockets and turns around, leaving you standing there staring at his back.

"Well, there you go then," you shout and start to follow along again. You take the stupid hat off with a sigh and stuff it into the backpack, wiping sweat off your forehead. "How long did you know I was there?"

Bucky shrugs. "About when I got outside."

"Seriously." He stares at you over his shoulder. "Seriously?!"

"You came down the stairs," he says, shaking his head. "And in a Yankees cap."

"So?"

"Don’t tell me you suddenly like baseball."

"I might like baseball," you mumble. "It’s a very fine … ball sport."

He snorts. "Sure ya do. I’ll remind you next time the game’s on."

"Circling back," you quickly change the subject, "why the fuck did you make me chase you halfway across Midtown if you knew I was there anyway?"

"It was funny." The shit-eating grin spreading on his face surprises you so much you stumble over your own feet. His arm extends to stop your fall if necessary, as if on instinct. "You know," he continues, "I thought you’d lost me on Times Square. Almost asked one of those guys in costume to help you out."

You slap his hand away. "You’re the worst, Barnes."

"And you’re a shit spy, time powers or not." The smile changes, but stays. Somehow, you’re glad.

Your fingers twitch inside your own pockets, your thumbs tracing along your rings. "So," you say, suppressing the nervous chuckle. "Where are we actually going?"

"Don’t know yet." Bucky turns his head to look out for cars before he continues walking. It takes you a second to match his pace again.

"What do you mean, you don’t know."

"Well, I had to cancel my plans because I got an amateur stalker on my heels."

"Wow." You squint at him and the blinding sunshine behind his head. "And you’re calling me stubborn."

"To your face? I would never."

Oh, you hate this.

"So we’re actually just walking around town for the hell of it." And you’ve done all of this for nothing.

"Yup."

The realization that you wasted yet another day by thinking you could be sneaky around Bucky almost takes you down a spiral, and you don’t even notice he’s still talking to you until he ducks his head to catch your eye. "Huh?"

"I said I’ll buy you a coffee. Think you might need it." He pauses. "That is, if you wanna."

"I could always go for coffee," you say, and it’s true. First, though, you should tell him. Rip the band-aid off and get it over with. "Listen, I—"

But then he looks at you, his eyes impossibly blue in the sunshine, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t have to deal with that damn preciousness in them, because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, and so he just looks at you like he has a thousand times before, the normalcy of it like a breath of fresh air after his eyes have dragged you under again and again.

How come you’re not the one who’s really getting knocked around every single day?

Maybe it’d really be a kindness to spare him the news, just once. It’s still so early.

"What?" Bucky asks when the silence stretches.

You think of the ever unchanging Tower and the neverending pizza delivery and the fact that you hate this. You hate lying to him. You do it anyway.

Just once.

"I thought of something, but it doesn’t matter now," you say. "We have time."

***

"Are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?"

You pretend not to hear him, shuffling the straws around in their container until they look a bit more orderly. Even though you’re not working, even though this isn’t even your store, it’s hard to shake the need to feel useful. Particularly if you’re trying to ignore Bucky’s gaze burning into your neck.

You’re saved by your name being called out because your coffee is ready. For some reason, you half-expect him to swoop in front of you and take the drinks himself, but of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

With a shake of your head, you rid yourself of the ridiculous thought and hand Bucky his coffee without looking at him.

"You know," you say, stepping out of the crowded Starbucks into the sunshine. "I have a blanket somewhere in here." You point at your backpack. "We could try to fight for a spot in the park."

There’s a pause, and then Bucky sighs. "What else do you have in there, anyway?"

"Spy stuff."

You don’t expect him to find that funny, but he snorts slightly. Then, like a habit he can’t break, his gaze falls on your hands again.

"I’m just tired," you say wearily before he presses the matter.

"You should try the floor," Bucky says. "If you can’t sleep."

It helps, sometimes. "I’ll keep that in mind."

You take a sip of your coffee and scrunch your nose when you realize it isn’t what you ordered for yourself; it’s what you ordered for him. In your haste to change the topic earlier, you must have switched the cups.

"Sorry," you say, "this is actually—"

But you stop talking, because he’s already taking a tentative nip of yor drink, and then he licks his lips. And they curl slightly upwards.

He blinks a few times, as if he’s as surprised as you are, and tries again, less hesitantly this time. Then he looks at the writing on the cup. "Wait," he says, frowning, "I think you’ve got mine."

Your mouth closes, then opens again. "How do you know?" you finally say. "They both have my name on them."

"Yeah, but you always get the same thing," Bucky says, as if him knowing your order couldn’t possibly be news to you.

"It’s fine," you say when he tries to hand you your cup back. "Maybe I should try something different sometimes."

Bryant Park is already bustling with people, and it’s just about noon. The little green tables are all occupied by chess players and chatting families, the carousel horses manned with happily shrieking children.

Still, you find a place to spread out your blanket near the edge of the lawn, almost within talking distance of the Public Library’s security guard, who is currently on his first smoke break. You demonstratively sit down with your back to him. If ever a man took his job too seriously.

"Aren’t you hot in that?" you ask doubtfully when Bucky uncomfortably sits down opposite you, the collar of his leather jacket pushing up.

"'Course I am," he answers, not elaborating.

You let your eye roam through the park. "Terrible news," you say dryly. "Not a single person is looking at you, Sergeant Cool."

Bucky shakes his head, not looking at you.

"No one cares," you say, more sincerely this time. "Even if they did, they’re not gonna say anything. And they’ll have forgotten about you tomorrow."

He huffs again. "And you’re wonderin’ why I call you stubborn."

"I thought you didn’t do that to my face?"

He pulls his gloves off, throwing them on the blanket between you with his eyebrow raised. "Happy?"

In the bright sun, his left hand is gleaming, the inlets reflecting the light in a way that makes it dance across the cotton like swirls of pure gold. You smile and lean back, closing your eyes.

You don’t come to this park often, even though it’s not far from the Tower at all and it’s easier than returning to Central Park with all the memories it holds and that have turned more bitter than sweet after everything. It’s the same as with the library, you suppose. Sometimes you don’t even know you’re missing something until you find yourself in the middle of it.

It might have been a Saturday, you think, the last time you were here. What a concept; Saturday. You sit with the thought for a while, and then you let it drift away, just like you’ve been practicing.

It’s such an unexpected feeling, to get to experience this moment of quiet reprieve when lately, most of your time in this loop has been spent studying, or training, or fighting. You already know you’re getting another talking-to if you don’t return to the astral plane at all today; but it’s just the one day. Surely, you can be allowed one day.

Your brain craves it more than anything.

When you open your eyes again, Bucky is contemplating your backpack with a frown so oddly different than the one you’ve gotten used to in previous loops. He seems so … It takes you a while to come up with the right word, because somehow, it makes you think of Alpine, and that doesn’t make any sense at all. Comfortable. He seems comfortable.

His shoulders are relaxed, his jaw unclenched, and even though he’s still wearing the jacket, his eyes aren’t flitting around to assess everyone within sight. His head tilts slightly.

"Are you trying to see through it?" you say, and the dryness tastes wrong on your tongue.

Bucky nudges the backpack with his foot. "Just wonderin’ what you thought you were gonna be up to."

"I like to come prepared."

"Since when?"

Well, ever since resetting has kind of stopped being an option whatsoever. "This isn’t gonna turn into one of your 'constant vigilance' talks, is it, Moody?" you say lightly.

He looks at you again, and you’re not really sure if that’s better or worse. "You’re deflecting, doll."

"Well, what do I know!" you say. It’s worse, definitely worse, but you don’t know why. "You might have been off on a covert mission or visiting a secret girlfriend or buying a beehive to put on the roof or—"

He unzips the backpack. "So you brought a blanket, a baseball cap, binoculars and a banana?"

You try to bite your tongue, but it’s impossible. "I was kind of set on the bee scenario."

Bucky laughs.

Genuinely laughs. His nose scrunches up, his eyes creasing and his head thrown back a little, shaking with a quiet and almost childish glee as you blink at the unusual sight. It’s over almost as suddenly as it began, but … still. A warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks as you watch him, your own smile almost hesitant by comparison.

Joy looks good on him.

It leaves a twinkle in his eye even as the laughter subsides, like specs of sunlight.

"What?" he says, his mouth still twitching.

"You seem happy." And it’s astonishing.

Bucky shakes his head slightly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s blushing. "No need to sound so shocked about it."

"You sure?" you ask, your voice cracking only a little. "I feel like I need to call an ambulance."

"Shut up."

"Or Area 51. I think you might’ve been swapped with an alien doppelganger." You sit up properly. "Tell me something only the real Bucky would know. Oh, wait. He wouldn’t have told me, either."

"You are the most dramatic person I know, you know that?"

"You’re one to talk, Sergeant I Need Nobody’s Help, I Will Jump Out Of  A Plane Without A Parachute."

"So many rank drops today."

"Now who’s deflecting?"

"I take calculated risks."

Except he doesn’t even know his calculator is broken.

Bucky stares at you. "What’s that even supposed to mean?"

You didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not today. Your fingers twitch automatically to take it back, but of course, nothing happens. Nothing apart from his attention being brought back to your black rings.

"What did you do?"

The concern in his voice is quiet, but it’s there nevertheless, and it makes your heart ache, long desperately for it to go away, to be replaced by the joy that was there mere seconds ago. You want to make this day stop, make the world stop so you can continue living in that ease of just sitting here and laughing together without thinking about anything else.

And then you realize what’s really happening, and the world chokes, like something falling into place.

For a moment, you can’t breathe as you look at him, whole and confused and missing parts he can’t even remember leaving with you, and you feel as though your heart might stop because the only thought running through your head is Please, not now. Not now. Not now. Every single beat is an echoing no inside your mind.

You are so fucked up, you think, but you can’t find it in you to stop looking at his face, nearly flinching as you shove the feeling all the way down, down, down, until you can feel it like a brick in your stomach. It’s nauseating, like the vertigo you get at the very top of a roller coaster just before the car drops into freefall.

"Y/N?"

"I don’t know," you say tonelessly. He must have noticed your face change, he must have. So why doesn’t the frown deepen?

"Liar." Your heart is still pounding so loud he must hear it, even over the racket of children screaming in delight and cars blowing their horns in the distance.

Concern, you think again. Exact same thing that you see mirrored on Bucky’s face right now. You're concerned for your friend.

Roommate, really.

Colleague.

Guy you sometimes work with, professionally.

Exactly. That’s it. That has to be it.

You’re in deep enough shit already.

He’s still waiting for you to say something and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, the buzzing in your head getting louder, and the only thing you can think to say is, once again, "I’m sorry."

Before Bucky can answer, his phone rings, and there’s the flicker of annoyance you’ve been waiting for.

"Hold that thought," he says. "Sam?"

Your heart sinks as Bucky presses his phone to his ear, reality catching up with you again. You try to rearrange your features into a neutrally curious expression when he glances back at you, but you’re probably failing horribly.

"No, I’m good, I didn’t end up going.Yeah. Alright."

You clear your throat as he hangs up. "So. Sam’s about to give his big speech then?"

Bucky looks bemused. "I’d hope not. That was hours ago."

"What?"

Confused, you look at your watch. Then you look at Bucky’s watch. Then you look at your phone.

Even though you can’t have been sitting here for more than thirty minutes, every clock you look at tells you it’s past 4 p.m. Confused, you twist your rings around your fingers, one by one, but they’re as pitch black as ever, and yet somehow …

"Should we go?" you ask, your voice just a little pitchy.

Bucky gazes at you for a very long moment, and then gets up to his feet and holds out his hand to pull you up. He still hasn’t put his gloves back on.

You take it.

"You’re really off today," he remarks and you hum noncommittantly as you fold the blanket back up and unceremoniously stuff it into the backpack. He shoulders it himself before you can grab it. "You’re just gonna complain again," he says, even though the Tower isn’t that far.

You don’t say anything, though, just trudging behind him without a glance back.

Probably because of the time of day, 42nd street is packed. You watch Bucky pass through the crowd with his head downcast and his hands back in his pockets. If it’s been a struggle not to get separated from him earlier this morning, it’s near impossible now.

He looks over his shoulder when, for the third time, several people have pushed between the two of you, and you shrug helplessly as you try to catch up to him. Again, you can’t help but think this would be so much easier with your powers working the way they’re supposed to; just stopping everyone else for a second while you move past them.

"Sorry," you mumble when you reach him waiting for you at a crossing. All of a sudden, you feel how tired you’ve been for a while.

"Wanna just go home?" Bucky asks.

"That’d be nice," you say, cringing at the thought of having to change immediately once you get back. Sam is probably already impatient.

Bucky’s mouth twitches. "Don’t make this a thing."

And then he takes your hand again and links his fingers with yours as if he’s done it a thousand times before. The light changes to green, but you don’t move, and Bucky softly tugs to get your attention. His hand is solid and warm in yours, and it does nothing to ease the feelings of unease and contentment that mingle in your stomach with his touch.

Neither does the fact that as soon as the crowd disperses and you slowly, reluctantly let go of his hand, he steps out into the street with his head half-turned to you and—well.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and it’s like the air is getting knocked out of your lungs.

After that, the days start to blur.

***

"Why would it have anything to do with the mission?" Strange asks, and you can’t decide whether he sounds condescending or genuinely confused.

"Because it’s never happened before then, maybe?" you say, throwing up your arms. "I don’t know!"

"The loop is tied to you, not the other way around. If Sergeant Barnes has only ever died during the mission before today, the only other variable in that equation is you."

His cloak curls at the seams in a way that’s almost apologetic. What a stupid thing to say about a piece of magical fabric, you think.

"Great," you huff, sitting down on the ground and crossing your arms in order to not shake violently. "So first time’s skipping and now if I spend time with him, he’s just gonna die earlier?"

There’s a pause as Strange frowns. "Show me your wrist."

You press your lips together tightly and hold out the arm with the swirling green symbols. Strange examines it with a particularly grim expression.

"Just say it," you mutter when it becomes unbearable.

"Time is a precious thread in the fabric of the universe," he says, dropping your hand. His silver eyes are very serious. "You don’t get an endless supply of it."

"I literally do," you reply, flourishing your wrist demonstratively. "That’s the whole problem."

"No." Strange shakes his head. "Your reality is going to collapse if time can’t move on from where it’s stuck. Not today, not tomorrow, but it will happen."

You stare at him with wide eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means, no more distractions. Things are detereorating more quickly than I’d hoped." He sighs, and there’s something about his demeanor that lets real fear course through your bones for the first time in a while.

"Okay," you say, swallowing it down. "Let’s do some overtime, then."

"I’m afraid that’s not how it works. Look at her."

You glance at your sleeping body, stirring in her sleep.

"You asked when this is," Strange continues. "That’s the thing with this version of the astral plane. It’s unstable. It only exists between dreaming and waking, and so our time here is very limited. You are then, and now. Past and present and future all folded into each other and wrapped into one. The nature of time doesn’t like this."

"So, what?" You laugh humorlessly. "I go through an endless day, and then reality crumbles anyway?"

"Do you understand now why it’s so important that you get a grip on your powers?"

Because you’re the one who created the loop, and therefore the only person who can untangle it again.

"So no pressure then," you say tonelessly.

"All of the pressure, I’m afraid," Strange says grimly. "There’s really no time to waste anymore."

***

"When we live such fragile lives, it’s the best way we survive. I go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you."

Your head has started pounding to the beat of the song and Sam’s fist at your door, but you keep staring at the ceiling, unmoving. It all just starts over.

Even this godawful song.

"Tell me all that you’ve thrown away. Find out games you don’t wanna play."

You must admit, the universe has a certain sense of cruel humor. Not that that’s any news. It doesn’t fucking matter what you do any of these days, because the outcome stays the exact same, and there’s a moment each and every time where Bucky knows that, too. Only by then, it’s too late.

"Geez, I hate you."

You’re so tired.

"I know, Buck."

Fade to black. Back in with a blast and the sun in your face, FRIDAY blasting The—

"I’m coming in," Sam finally shouts from the other side of the door. "You better not be naked!"

You hear him enter, but you still don’t move. You’re busy replaying that look on Bucky’s face in your mind of the exact moment it goes wrong. It looks so pale, his mouth twitching downwards, a bit like with his coffee, but much more devastating.

Black out. Rewind. His eyes are on you, not even on the white jacket shooting him.

Black out. Rewind. The fingers on his metal hand grasp so tightly around your wrist you feel something move underneath your skin.

"What is going on with—Y/N!" You feel Sam rushing to your bedside in three long strides.

Right. You’re still covered in blood.

You can’t look away from his eyes until the last second. Black out. Rewind.

"FRIDAY, turn this shit off. Call an ambulance."

"Calling 911."

The sudden silence slams you back into the present with a start. "Cancel call," you say loudly, your voice only slightly shaking. "I’m fine, Sam."

"You don’t look fine!" He helps you sit up, looking you up and down, a sense of urgency still vibrating in his every movement, but of course, you’re not bleeding. "You look like you just shot a man and then rolled over."

"You’re not wrong," is all you get out before you start crying.

Black out. Rewind. God, you’re pathetic.

You shrink back from his arms, cradling your wrist to your chest. It’s starting to swell.

And yet, the green symbols swirl.

You’re not sure why you’re reacting like this now, after … you’re not sure. It’s not like this is your first time. Does that make you an even worse person? Probably.

Sam is talking to you, you recognize his voice, but you can’t focus on the words. You’re desperate to find something to focus your attention on, like you’ve been trying, training, grasping to do, but you’ve got nothing. Just numbness, a gaping nothingness, and the scars to prove you’re not just stuck in a nightmare but this is in fact your reality, and you are the only thing that remains while everything else resets in an endless cycle of hell, over and over and over again.

Nothing stays.

And you can’t help but feel like you’re running out of time, anyway.

This is ridiculous, you know that. You know you’re worrying Sam out of his mind, that you just need to focus, damnit, take a breath, stop crying, anything. Your incompetence to do any of these simple tasks is like another slap to the face.

Time passes, and doesn’t pass; it doesn’t matter at all whether you’re there for a minute or six hours, it’s all the same to you.

Through the fog of it all, Bucky’s voice is like your lighthouse.

And you despise yourself for it, even as you reach out for him.

"Hey," he says quietly, his hands rubbing circles into your back until he slowly, carefully pulls you out of your head back to earth. "It’s alright. Everything’s okay."

He says it over and over and over again until you nod slowly. It’s a pretty lie, after all.

"What happened to your wrist?"

You know what you have to do, but that concerned undertone makes it so hard. You’re still not used to it, but you want to be. Fuck, you want … No.

It doesn’t matter.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. "One more time. And then … Then that’s it."

You have to do this. Have to close yourself off emotionally. Distance yourself from Bucky in order to stay rational about this situation and find your way out. Treat this like you’re not involved at all; like this is just another puzzle for you to solve, and nothing else.

It’s the only way.

You’re going to fix this mess you’ve created, if it’s the last thing you do.

*****

"If we die here tonight, I’m blaming you," you told Steve through chattering teeth, and he laughed at you. If you hadn’t still felt bad about his bruises—no matter that they’d already healed completely again—you might have kicked him in the shin.

You’d reached the point of wanting to kick Captain America on a concerningly regular basis.

This time, though, you felt completely within your rights, because you’d been training hard all week, and thanks to New York being just about the most disgustingly freezing place on the planet if they asked you, you really didn’t see the point of driving into the city to a random ice rink. Particularly not on an evening in early January when it was already dark outside.

"You’ll be warmed up in no time," Steve said and waved at Nat, who was already waiting for the two of you, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up so the red roots of her hair stayed hidden.

"Couldn’t we have done this at the lake?" you asked, looking around wearily. The crowd was substantial.

"Sure," Nat said and put an arm around you. "Do you have about fifty friends we can invite so we can properly train your powers around other people?"

You grimaced. "There are children everywhere."

"Oh, yeah. Some of them went home early, but most opted to stay when I told them Steve would drop by."

You groaned. Of course they were Natasha’s Blip orphans; they had the same mischievous shimmer in their tired eyes. "Thanks for that, Nat."

"You’re so welcome," she answered, patting your shoulder. You narrowed your eyes when her coat shifted to the side.

"Is that my hoodie?" you said.

She looked down as if she hadn’t noticed what she was wearing at all. "Yeah, I think so."

"I was looking for that everywhere earlier!"

Natasha merely shrugged. "It’s your own fault for leaving your stuff in the dryer for anyone to take."

"Don’t pay attention to it, she does it to all of us," Steve said, putting an arm around her.

"That is not true."

"It is. You’re like a clothes hoarding dragon."

"Did you just call me a dragon?"

You didn’t listen to the rest of their bickering, because your eyes had started to water, and not because of the cold. It’d been a long time since you’ve felt this warmth inside, this feeling of belonging, of, well … family. It made your powers pulsate through your veins soothingly.

Still, the worry came back when they gave you a helmet and knee pads to wear.

"I’m a travesty on skates, but it’s not this bad," you told Natasha again when you shakily followed her to the rink entrance.

"We’re here to train, not to have fun," she said, taking your hands. Of course, she moved like a dancer even on the ice. "Well, both," she amended when you looked unconvinced. "Oh, don’t look at me like that, it was Steve’s idea."

"Then why is he sitting over there doing nothing?"

"He’s got the day off." She pulled you to the side of the rink. "Here’s what we’re gonna do," she said, pointing to the far end. "I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to guide me straight through the middle to the other side."

You stared at her. "You’re insane."

Natasha ignored you. "One straight line, you tell me when to dodge someone. We’ll go slow."

"I don’t know how many times I can jump."

"It’s not exactly a life or death situation, Y/N. I can survive a few bruises and so can the kids."

"I’d rather not injure a child if you don’t mind," you say, trying not to sound hysterical.

"And I’m confident that you won’t. Do you trust me on this?"

You met Nat’s calm gaze and took a breath, even though the knot in your stomach tightened. "Fine."

"Such a vote of confidence," she snorted. "Just watch what they’re doing, and keep it in mind. Think of it like a dance recital. It’s all just a sequence of steps in a specific order."

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. Natasha closed her eyes. "Ready?" you asked.

She smiled. "I love this song."

You could barely hear the music over the thrum of adrenaline, but you supposed that was her way of saying yes. This’ll be the day that I die.

You pushed forward.

chapter six

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[7t7t73]

it's probably better to just vent, i guess. probably, although i don't want to think about it.

so i found out my dad is a cheater. probably. and my mom knows it too but i think she prefers to ignore it and pretend it's not happening. because the fact that it's true can really destroy our family, and my mom depends financially on my dad, so i don't blame her for not doing anything about it. and it isn't like things are strange or anything. we are all pretending to be alright, i guess? or well, i guess im the one who cannot pretend.

and the fact is he's cheating with other men. that reality never crossed my mind, never in a thousand years. but by mere accident i found some pictures my mom took of a whatsapp conversation my dad was having with a number he didn't have saved in his contacts and they were talking about it. my dad pays for sex. from other men. it's so weird for me to think about it.

and since then, ive been going through his texts (probably wrong of me to do, but fuck him i guess?) and i have found some flirty texts with women as well. and it's disgusting, i am incredibly disgusted. he's supposed to be a married man lol my mom has sacrificed a lot and is a great wife and mom, and i guess that isn't enough for him.

and the worst part is that i feel bad for feeling this way. i actually thought i had excellent parents and i love them both very much, still now it pains me to be feeling like this. but i don't think i can respect him anymore after finding out the truth. i don't think i can move on from this, unless he does something to make it better. but what can he do? i honestly have no idea. im not in the space right now to forgive.

i have already started acting weird around him and im sure he'll notice soon, if he hasn't already. i don't know how that conversation is going to go.

> whats happening?

> i know what you've done.

..and that's pretty much it. the rest in my head is the both of us crying, then my mom crying, and then our family completely breaking and nothing we can do can forever fix it.

and i feel so guilty because i should just continue as if nothing ever happened. not for my sake, of my dad's, but my mother's. she doesn't deserve her life going to shit because i can't pretend that everything's alright. but it's so unfair because it isn't my fault. it is HIS fault and because men ruin everything, he's going to victimize himself, im sure. im sure he's going to say he'll leave or die or whatever and everything's going to be worse.

so i guess it's better to pretend but it's so difficult. i lost respect for my childhood hero and i can't fix it. i feel so powerless, and sad, and angry. i really wish this was a fake reality lol

[dorotheado]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT TRACKLIST THEORIES

"Fortnight" (ft Post Malone) - gosh what a start. my guess feels unrealistic but i'm imagining a song that goes like 'day 1:' and starts at a brilliant relationship and ends on day 14 with a break up. lol. there were 2 ish weeks between the start of the eras tour and the breakup right........

"The Tortured Poets Department" - im imagining a real breakdown of lockdown like how the pandemic resulted in two people sitting in the dark writing tortured poetry. rip

"My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys" - interesting how this is self-objectifying (i.e. she is the toy). i'm assuming this is a bit like tongue in cheek, he loves me so much that he breaks me. imagining some poppy sounds tbh

"Down Bad" - ok so im expecting this one to be about being in love and it sucks. it just sucks. lol im really not guessing very many emotional facets in this album im sticking w like 2 ideas: in love or in pain so far lol. anyway

"So Long, London" - this place haunts me it has all my memories and i love it but it's too painful (SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!) (sidenote she will be singing this one as the last surprise song in london on the eras tour obviously)

"But Daddy I Love Him" - oh this one gonna break me i reckon lol like i am both thinking sad bop w extremely like sassy tone and also slow sad song realising the inevitability of it all. so idk how to reconcile those but 🤷🏻‍♀️

"Fresh Out the Slammer" - im imagining rock-y sounds with very get-him-back-olivia-rodrigo-vibes but mainly im just thinking "getaway car" IM OUT IM OUT desperation lyrics

"Florida!!!" (ft Florence and the Machine) - based on my very limited knowledge of florence and the machine i am picturing gospel backing vocals and lyrics about adrenaline rushes and desperation in the face of weighty emotions

"Guilty as Sin?" - literally no clue about this one. i guess like 'was it my fault?'

"Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" - anti hero extended? maybe like 'we had this fight and you're retreating... but what is there to be afraid of?' maybe a bit angry also ?

"I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" - EVERYBODY IS DOUBTING ME BUT MY WHOLE LIFE I BEEN FIXING PEOPLE AND I'M 1000000% THIS GUY CAN BE FIXED AND THAT I AM GOOD ENOUGH TO DO IT NO PLS BELIEVE ME (i am aware this is essentially just the title but i just am imagining very classic un-self-aware but also supremely self aware sad bop)

"Loml" - i'll be honest every time i just think of Queen & freddie mercury singing 'love of my life' lol but if i hazard a guess i will say loml DOES stand for love of my life and it's a painful love song (like this is the love of my life. maybe it wont last forever but it's the one chance i have. very "false god")

"I Can Do It with a Broken Heart" - i agree w jaime that this is giving long live 2.0 like 'yoh sang these words back to me and suddenly i have strength' but tbh i have been guessing long live 2.0 on every album since lover so watch me be wrong

"The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" - FUCK U IT'S JOEVER (either hard rocky sounds or soft strings a la ivy/illicit affairs/invisible string)

"The Alchemy" - i'm imagining that the chorus ends with the line 'but what about the alchemy?' - i.e. everything sucks but the chemistry pulls us back together each time, a la "style"

"Clara Bow" - 'how must she have felt? i could take a guess'

"The Manuscript" - i thought this was it and it wasnt and maybe the invisible string wasnt between us but was just the direction of my life ?

"The Bolter" - oh classic me i just run! i always run! and i stayed but now im running! fable-moral-lesson vibes maybe?

"The Albatross" - it's hanging around my neck. im imagining epiphany type strings

"The Black Dog" - haunting me its haunting me everywhere i go, im imagining haunted but the despair is quieter.

[sharm-the-shark]

YOOOOO this looks fun

Alright first one

January:

Siine feat moody frank, c'est la vie

What does that mean like , am i gonna be in a toxic relationship or like , bro january is about to end what does that mean 😭😭😭

February:

The living tombstone, i cant fix you

Ok now im fucked , although it is kinda weird because of the context I'd say ,but at this point i have no idea

March:

Natewantstobattle, this is the end

Ok what the fuck, im genuinely scared now , It also aligns with a month that will probably be hard in classes due to having some final exams ( please let this be the end of my single Life )

April:

The living tombstone ( again apparently ), Discord

Uuhhh, i... I dont know what to think about this one , am i going to like , rebel or some shit

May:

Marc indigo, Boy for the weekend

Why do i have all these sad songs about being played or in bad relationships please i cant take It anymore 😭😭😭

June:

Imase, night dancer

So , am i suposed to interpret the part of the song that talks about an ex, or the part of the song that talks about not being scared of opening myself up to love???????

July:

Ice nine kills , rocking the boat

Ok i have no idea what this would mean , mid summer , am i going to the beach or something ? Im so confused with these

August:

Mico , Down

This is starting to get depressing , its not funny anymore 😭😭😭

September:

Coyote theory, this side of paradise

OMGGGGG PLEASE , THIS IS THE FIRST SONG THAT ACTUALLY TALKS ABOUT SOMETHING GOOD HOLY SHIT ( im so lonely pleaseeeeee 😭😭😭 )

October:

The living tombstone ( yet again ), Spooky scary skeletons extended mix

THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nothing else to add , just , 💀

November:

Twenty one pilots, House of gold

Oohhh , i... This... Huh? I mean , the meaning of the lyrics are good (?) but, i dont really know how to interpret them

And finally

December:

Falling in reverse, Game over

Ok i mean , the name doesnt help, BUT, the lyrics are positive, besides , its a cool name to end the year

This was... Weird , to say the least

Anyway, i dont like taggin people cuz then i feel bad for leaving people out so moots , you already know what to do , consider yourself tagged , so yeah :3

i wanna start a tag game so: let your spotify predict your 2024!

shuffle your on repeat playlist, and the first twelve songs represent your 2024

january- guns and ships- hamilton (idek what this could represent but okay)

february- we fell in love in october- girl in red (PLEASE)

march- say no to this- hamilton (…i have nothing to say about this)

april- castles crumbling- taylor swift ft hayley williams (damnit sad month then?)

may- you’re losing me- taylor swift (FUCK TWO SAD MONTHS?? breakup songs are even worse now that im actually in a relationship. please. better not be accurate)

june- astronomy- conan gray (please stop why am i having so many sad songs)

july- stoned- ed sheeran (oh fuck this)

august- new year’s day- taylor swift (hm okay. idk what to say about this)

september- heather- conan gray (i consider heather to be a happy song AND it’s mine and my partners song so i’m taking this as a good one)

october- 18- one direction (yessss we’re going okay now)

november- king of my heart- taylor swift (YESSS)

december- all too well (ten minute version)- taylor swift (i take it back ugh)

no pressure tags!!- @autumnleavesforwinter @weeping-in-the-willows @swiftieannah @felizusnavidad @jittyjames @anixknowsnothin (please help me get this off the ground, but also if this flops you saw nothing)

[staysluttymyfriends97]

Sisters best friend , but love of my life part 2 ( Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Reader)

What you need to know: It is not very nice of Phoenix to jump to conclusions that Jake has no idea how Y/N feels about him. It is also not very nice what Jake feels he has to do to set things right. 

AN: I have some bad news... Part two might break your heart a little but do no worry I will put it back together  Also I am writing in the guy POV for the first time Im a little nerves about that. But go with me because I am so in love with how this turned out. 

Part one and part three my sweets 

There will be 3 more parts to this so just hold  on any hearts I have broken will be fixed ( that is a warning haha) 

As soon as I get to Phoenix I let her have it. “What on earth do you think you are doing?” I try to keep my voice down so Y/N doesn’t hear me.

 I want to check over my shoulder to make sure she is in the barn. I know that if I look at her she’ll be worried about how angry my face looks. 

“What did you tell her?” I let my hands rest on my hips.

“I just told her you carry her letters with you.” She was acting way too calm and I didn't like it. Phoenix was used to being in the face of danger, so I knew right now she was channeling that reserve. I raise my eyebrow at her. I know there is more.

She sighs, “I also told her to ask you about why.” 

I swear I could see red. Years I have spent keeping Y/N just an arms length away was about to go out the  window. I want to see the fact that Phoenix thinks she is being a good friend. She thinks she is helping me out by pushing myself and Y/N together. What she doesn’t know is that she is swinging a bat at a hornets nest. I didn’t think I could regret my drunken night of telling Phoenix about Y/N anymore then I already did, but here we are.  I start to pace in front of her. I know Y/N will not jump to the conclusion that what Nat is trying to say is that I love her. Y/N is the type of person who will not jump to a happy ending. She will think of the reasonable first. To her, me wanting her the same way she wants me is not just unreasonable, it is unfathomable. I hate that I know that. I hate that I feel safe in the fact she will think nothing of it. But now, she will want to come to me for an answer anyway and I will have to come up with a lie to throw her off. I can’t tell her what letters I keep with me and I surely can’t tell her why. That would be my dead give away and Then she would know. I turn my body fully away from Phoenix, and look out over the farm.  Maybe an answer will hit me in the face if I just keep looking. I hear Nat shuffle her feet and then she spoke. 

“That girl loves you, it is rude to have her think her love it just one sided.” I whip my head around to look her in the face. 

Her face softens, and she almost looks sad. I want to tell her calmly why it has to be this way, but I can’t grasp the calm part of me right now.  

“Trust me it is much easier being the person who thinks it is one sided, than being the one who knows it's not.” My voice bites out as I face her. “Stop acting like a detective who just put the pieces of the puzzle together. You think I didn’t see the hope in her eyes when she turned 18? Or again when she turned 20? You don’t think I knew she was thinking ‘this will be it. He might  finally do something’? It kills me!” Digging my boot in the ground does nothing to help release some of my frustration. 

“Then do something about it, Hangman!” She pokes at my chest. 

“I fucking can’t.” I seethe. She is poking a bear, she just doesn’t know it yet. 

“Yes you can! What the hell is stopping you? Just tell her and go from there.” She throws her hands up in the air. 

“This isn’t fear. This isn’t a scared man who doesn’t know how to commit to one person.  This is my life being narrated by a legal document. A document signed 100 years ago saying the Seversin family cannot marry someone from the Y/L/N  family. They did it so the farm would never split. If someone from my family marries someone from hers they forfeit their right to run the farm one day. Don’t you understand? This place is her life. This farm is her Top Gun.”

It finally sinks in and it stops her from pushing farther. She doesn’t move and the downcast look on her face tells me she understands the gravity of what she has done.

Drunk me seemed to have left this part out when I told her about Y/n. I don’t know how. That stupid rule has been on my brain since I was 24. Now I have my friend in front of me who is upset with herself. 

From the way I act around them I don’t really blame her. A cocky man who doesn’t want to commit to one person, I can see how she got there. It is just in this small town of Texas, my home town, around that girl, that I am not that man. I know Phoenix was doing what she thought was best but you know what they say about good intentions: The road to hell is paved with them. 

I slide my hands in my back pockets as I turn to walk back, nodding my head in the barn's direction telling Phoenix to follow. I was done talking about it. Now I have to figure out what I was going to do about it. Phoenix falls into step with me. When we get to the barn I let her walk in before me and I allow the door to shut behind us. The wind picks up making it shut much harder than I wanted it too. The sound alone makes Y/N head swing towards me. I know she is reading my face and picking up on the anger. She has always been good at reading me. I could breathe the wrong way and she would be onto me in a second. Her eyebrows raise asking me the question. I just shake my head in response. 

“So, next on the tour I could show y’all the calving barn. It’s where all the baby cows are.” Kate said as she started to bounce on her feet again. She was always so happy. She is the most carefree of us all and it truly showed. She tows Bob by the arm to get him where he needed to go. Poor man looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He just went with it with a small wince. Roster and I both were laughing at the interaction. Y/N was busy looking down at her watch and this gave me a moment to finally observe her. Her hat sat snugly on her head, she has her favorite striped shirt on, the blue one. Her cut off jeans allow me to see those strong legs of hers, tan from the summer sun down to her boot clad feet, with one tapping rhythmically on the barn floor. She does that when she gets focused, my heart squeezes at how well I know her. 

She let out a sigh, I quickly looked away from her. “Well this is where I depart on the welcome home tour. I should go check fences.” She gives a wave then makes her way to her horse's stall. 

I didn’t even have time to think before I spoke. “I will go with you.” Everyone turned to look at me. I just shrug my shoulders at them. “I’ve been in this barn my whole life. Plus this is me paying back Y/N for waking up early every morning to come help me.” I give Y/N a smile before I make my way to the tack room to gather her saddle.

 As I walk through the door I hear Bob ask what her horse’s name is. I laugh in anticipation of the answer and she shoots me a look over her shoulder. That knowing look just makes my love for her grow. 

“His name is Radish.” Y/N says with a smile. That could only be because she loves the question people ask next. 

“You named your horse, Radish?” Roster looks puzzled but everyone else got the joke. Man she loves it when she can get someone to call him horseradish.

“Yes I did, you see the reddish tint he has that is why. Also,  because Jake said I wouldn’t do it.” She cuts her eyes at me as she laughs. I make my way to the tack room to gather all the things she needs. When I step out I see she has gotten Radish out so the others could pet him before we saddle him up. 

“So this is your horse?” I don’t look at Bob as he asks the question. I move to step around him and throw the blanket on Radish’s back, having already set the saddle down at my feet. 

Me and Y/N answer at the same time. “He is ours.” She is standing on the other side of the horse so I look down at her over his back. I love how her face lights up when she says that. This horse is the one thing that is just mine and hers. Growing up we were the only ones who took care of him. So many nights of just me and her in this barn brushing him down and talking about how to train him. It was just me and her. How it should be. 

“He was Jake’s but I kind of took him. So we have share custody of him. He won’t let Jake ride him if I am around.” 

“We learned that the hard way.” 

“Don’t say “we”. I knew, but you just didn’t want to listen to me.” She rolls her eyes at me. She isn’t wrong but I just like saying we. I shake the thought away and finish tightening the saddle down. 

“Fine, you can be right this time.” I give Radish a slap on the butt as I move to walk around to the side the others are on. “He is all set. I’ll walk y’all out and go grab Ranger.” I give Y/N’s shoulder a squeeze as I walk past her, with the others to the end of the barn.

“Be good to them Kate. No tricking the boys into getting on a bull.” She just gives me a toothy smile. One of her favorite things is talking people into bull riding. I have seen her do it too many times to not bring it up now. She just rolls her eyes as she takes hold of Bob's arm again and starts dragging him along. I want to be upset that she seems to have some kind of crush on him. Between him or Roster, I will say I am happy with Bob. I stand in the doorway of the barn and just watch them walk away. I know as soon as I go back in the barn Y/N is going to start asking questions. As much as I want to lie to her and just brush it off, I know with one look I will be done. Any lie I could come up with would be gone. I turn on my heels and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. 

I walk back in to see she has already put the tack on Ranger and has the leads for both horses in hand as she walks to the far end of the barn that leads out to  the field. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I was coming back.” She turns her head slightly to give me a look then rolls her eyes as she continues to walk to the exit. We have always done this. She dresses my horse while I dress hers. It started when she was younger and didn’t know how. As she learned she would just get Ranger, doing the same as I did. 

When I get to her, I reach to take the lead from her hands but she moves them away. Oh great we are doing this now. Just for fun I try one more time to take them from her. She just moves them farther away. She then takes both leads and ties them to a post by the doors. She faces me and no words need to be spoken as she places her hand on her hip and tilts her head to the side. 

“What was Phoenix going on about?” She asks like what Phoenix said was a joke and I was about to set her straight. What she doesn’t know is that my answer will blow her life up and tear the relationship we have apart.  

“Well, I don't know I wasn’t there.” I am trying just to brush it off. 

“Jake, please work with me here.” She takes a step towards me. Panic rushes in and I can’t think. 

“Then ask a question I can answer.” I sigh. “What letters do you carry with you?” 

“Please don’t ask me that.” 

“Why?” 

Damn her stubbornness. 

“Because I want to tell you the truth.”

“Then tell me the truth!” She exclaims. 

“I can’t.” 

“I’m not getting what the big deal is.” She’s getting frustrated with me, her mouth is doing that twitch. 

“If I tell you, you’ll understand.” 

She crosses her arms, waiting. 

I run my hand down my face in defeat. “The letter in my cockpit is one of you describing the farm with a picture of a rooster crowing at the sun.”

“And the one in your jump suit?” 

“It is the one when you were talking about your future. And your future husband. You drew a picture of two people holding hands.” 

“You have 100s of letters, why those?”

“Y/N Please stop.”

“Tell me why Jake!” She demands. 

“What good does knowing do?” I shrug. 

“Please? I will beg.” She warns. 

“You will never have to beg for anything from me. It has always been yours.” I say softly. 

Please don’t make me tell you the truth. Please just let me lie to you.

She shakes her head. “Jake.”

“The one in the cockpit is where I go home too. The one in my jumpsuit is who I go home to.”

I have been keeping that to myself for so long, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest. It's only when I look up at her the weight finds me again. I can almost feel her brain spinning. Her face keeps shifting. She has this joy that takes over then confusion. She then starts pacing. It's the cutest thing I have ever seen. Every few seconds she turns to me to speak but says nothing, then goes back to her pacing. I could let her do this forever. 

“So now what?” she finally turns to me. It is my turn to be confused.

“What do you mean now what?” 

“We feel the same jake. So now what do we do?” Her brow wrinkles. 

“We do nothing.” 

“What the fuck, that can’t be your answer.” 

“That is my answer.” I say firmly

“What? No. No that can’t be it. You can’t feel that way for me and want to do nothing.” She snaps. 

“Don’t you ever think I want to do nothing about it.” I warn. 

“Well here we are, Jake, you wanted to do nothing.” Her hands fall to her sides with her frustration. 

“This isn’t what I want! We can’t do anything. Why do you think I haven't told you all this time?” I plead. 

“Tell me this isn’t about the rule?” Her arms cross over her chest, and she pins me with a glare. 

“It's not a rule, it's a contract! Signed by our families saying they will never marry and if they do, they forfeit their right to the farm. You want this place right?” 

“How long have you known?” She demands. 

“Since you were 18.” I mutter. 

I didn’t see it coming but I felt it. The slap to my face was hard. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I met her eyes again. She was full of anger now. Truth be told, I was okay with it. If she was mad at me, even if she hated me, maybe she wouldn’t want to be with me. She would keep this place. I wouldn’t have to spend my life being the one she loves and the one thing she regrets. She spins on her heels, takes the reins and rides off with Radish before I can say another word. 

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[kyoryu]

My big problem with the ending is that the story had the characters like. At least a few times discuss how they could totally still be friends even after the adventure was over. And like, I understand there’s a metaphor going on about how your life changes and you don’t stay as close to people as you think you might, but like… it kinda comes in out of nowhere in the last two or three episodes. And on top of that, Anne losing Sprig ENTIRELY and then the dialogue implying she, Sasha and Marcy all drifted apart until that reunion just felt overly sad. Puts a lot more ‘bitter’ than sweet in that bittersweet ending than they meant to, I think.

this is gonna be a long answer so sit tight lol.

disclaimer: I LOVE AMPHIBIA OK? my criticism means i care and i am passionate!! maybe too much, but hey, who's doing the math am i right.

ok i absolutely agree with EVERYTHING u say. i think everyone who disliked the ending is in the same page tbh, we all agree on the same stuff.

what u said about mostly bitter than sweet is EXACTLY what i keep saying. like...i do not see the sweet ANYWHERE in that ending. the "sweet" is the girls finally making it home, yet we dont get to see that. we dont even see anne hugging her parents again or anything, and dont get me started on the marcy and sasha's parents thing (ok i will briefly: refusing to give us anything about them just cuz "you wanna leave it up to interpretation" is bullshit. ur writing a story. commit. not showing us sasha and marcy's home lives and families means youre not showing us ANY signs of us rooting for them to go back home, we aren't attached to the idea of it as opposed to sasha's bond with grime and marcy's love for amphibia. it is lousy)

like, people keep telling me im missing the point of an ending that was obvious since episode one and i just disagree so much. where in the world of episode 1 did we see that anne was going to fight the moon, die, meet god and be offered to become god? what the fuck. i keep saying this ending could only work if the stakes weren't so high and the girls didn't spend as much time in amphibia. for anne to separate from the plantars permanently just because "people in life come and go and it hurts but oh well thats life" is so... devastating. like, imagine not being able to see or talk to your family EVER again. because hey thats what lifes like.

"but vinnie they'll obviously see each other again!!!" if u keep saying this, then u just disliked the ending as much as i did and ur in denial lmao. we can make all the hcs we want, they can add all the fix-it they want to marcy's journal (context: matt braly implied marcy's journal could include terri and mr x giving the girls "a surprise" in the timeskip) but yknow the damage is done. the ending is there and it tells you that the plantars and anne say goodbye forever and thats how it is. at least accept it.

"its been set up since ep 1" i completely disagree. season 1 in its entirety is about anne learning to love wartwood. sure it makes sense if u just watch ep 1 because anne is desperate to get home but um, the point is that anne comes to love wartwood and its people and becomes a part of the plantar family. how is that ending an ep1 set up? well, wheres the WHOLE SHOW set up? it makes no sense.

and even for the trio, i understand the growing apart thing but man, after what they went through wouldnt they be bonded for life, having been the only ones to have ever experienced this same trauma, and be closer than ever? especially with the portal permanently gone. id totally be behind it if the portal was open, cuz anne sasha and marcy choose their new amphibian friends over each other to spend time with and eventually come together again as teens, but still close all together bc i cant stress it enough. you dont just grow apart from someone u fought the moon with.

amphibia was already their time apart yknow. again, if the stakes were lower id get it and it'd work. but u cannot have these 3 go through all they did and then try to apply a Down To Earth realistic ending. i dont get it.

like, ur telling me marcy had to move away and she did it happily after being stabbed, comatosed, posessed, etc? sasha and anne stop talking in hs after anne had held onto sasha's arm for dear life before she lets go to her possible death, after they both leaded a fucking army together for a WAR AT 13 YEARS OLD? they just...move on? with a smile? sure it works if you say it does. but if you look it from a writing perspective its just weird, incomplete, lousy. no drama.

everything happens and we dont talk about it. everyone's just freaking happy ig.

i could excuse the sashannarcy separation though but that along with the goodbye forever to amphibia are TERRIBLE combinations. like sasha anne and marcy close this book and open a new one, and how on earth are they even able to do that after everything they we through???

sure im happy theyre happy. it could be that simple. but to me its not. to me this ending ruins the entire show lmao. if u were gonna go for this ending then dont write such an epic story bro lol.

and for the "YOU JUST WANT A STVFOE ENDING/WHAT, IS ANNE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE HER PARENTS EVER AGAIN?" gang: shut up dingus. no one talked about mixing both worlds or keep anne just in amphibia. thatd be just as bad. they should just have a way to access amphibia whenever they wanted, they met GOD. they literally had any excuse to make this work.

"but thatd be unrealistic" oh so sorry if i dont mind the story about 3 humans landing in a world of frog people, getting superpowers, leading an army, fighting a war, fighting an evil king and posession and the moon, doesn't have a completely realistic ending

"it would be too good to be true" so u agree. u agree the ending wasnt good.

what i would've done to make this ending Work, i would've added 3 simple things.

1. anne is a whole lot more broken up over saying goodbye to amphibia forever. shes not that calm about it. she's upset and thinks its unfair.

2. we get to see anne reunite with her parents back home

3. in the 10 year timeskip, we get an open ended situation with the trio opening a portal and its up to interpretation if this is the first time theyve done it or not.

thats it. i still wouldnt be a fan, i think anne deserves to grow up being able to see her family, but i think if they wanted that ending that badly they shouldve at least added those things. idk.

BASICALLY: i get what they were trying to do. it just does not work with the kind of epic high stakes story they've decided to write.