#oh well I'm sticking with how I draw him bcs it's cute and how I see him

[wildtornado-o]

The pain of drawing characters one way because of one character description for them and then they get described again, and it's an almost completely different design...

(This is about Ferris. In Cog Ferris is described as small and heavier set, looking older than he was, but in LoD, he's described as tall and lean, still clinging to looks of his youth)

[arcplaysgames]

okay with THAT dissertation done, the rest of the shit I've done so far, which is finishing up a lot of SLinks! I have now completed Temperance, Sun, Moon, and Death. Let's go over them.

GET READY FOR SOME CARTOMANCY TAAAAAALK

who me? what? don't know WHAT you could be implying Kawakami hahaha anyway how about this weather, btw i'm super happy for you. wow what a crazy random happenstance! you deserve it, i love you.

I KNEW IT, SHE KNOWS

When asked how she figured out, she points out that the thing with Takase's guardians worked out way too well for her and Reverie was the only person she told. Which... yeah, that makes it p5retty fucking obvious huh.

lmao as if Reverie going "I need their names," in the previous scene wasn't a massive flag. I am not playing this subtle but also Kawakami is smart and I adore her.

Her SLink is complete!!!! So far, she's the best one in the game, to my utter astonishment. I'm glad I muscled through the awful start because this SLink has everything: mocking the player's teacher-maid fetish, an incredibly mouthy cool millennial lady, a genuinely tragic backstory without being soap opera-y, sympathetic portray of sex workers. IT'S GOT IT ALL.

Kawakami was kind of a very Standard portrayal of Temperance. It's not a super interesting card, it's just about having the emotional strength to find the path forward and to find balance in yourself spiritually and materially. It's often portrayed as an angel passing water between two cups-- cups are the suit of emotional intelligence. And they're my favorite suit, personally.

Kawakami starts the arc solidly in a reversed Temperance, she can't balance anything, the goblets are overturned, and all of her emotional strength is just pouring out onto the floor because she is so overworked, there is no well for her to draw from. Through the arc, she actually shares her troubles with Reverie, which in of itself is a show of emotional strength, and with his help manages to rebalance herself. Finally, she can take her eyes off the cups and look ahead to her future.

TEN OUT OF TEN, SO FAR SHE'S MY FAVORITE CONFIDANT.

I haven't been recapping it because it's.... genuinely not a link that's easy to summarize bc its a lot of politics and small moments, but I finished the Sun too!

OH SO THAT'S THE JOKE OF EVERY LINK HUH, EVERYONE KNOWS WHO REVERIE REALLY IS that's pretty cute actually, I like it.

Yoshida was this failed politician who got disgraced twenty years ago in a finance scandal, now returned to try and take office again. His whole arc is about his new ideals of empowering the youth and taking care of the elderly, and with the rise of the Thieves, he acknowledges them as a symptom of a broken system that needs massive reform.

You follow him through some intra-party political issues and his recurring thing is that he sticks to running instead of being someone else's right hand man, even when doing so would clear his name from the finance scandal that ruined him.

I'm NOT gonna lie, his final speech is good. He speaks about Reverie, "a certain young man" he met who is aspiring to change the whole, and though Yoshida cannot follow the same path as this young man, he hopes they will meet again at the top of the mountain they are both climbing together, separate.

It's really good honestly. And for the curious, Yoshida is a very interesting Sun to me. The Sun comes at the end of the Star-Moon-Sun sequence and those three cards are basically their own mini-journey. The Star is the herald that the story isn't over and you must continue. The Moon is the darkness that follows, full of illusions and distractions and madness you have to navigate. And the Sun is the light that comes after, is exuberant and joyful, and more than anything it is certain in itself. In the light of the Sun, all is revealed and laid bare. (Which is why it leads into Judgement soon after.)

Yoshida works for the Sun really well because the twenty years of scandal and shame have already happened to him, and he has made it out to the other side. Now, his ideals and purpose are illuminated under the Sun and he never strays from his path.

It's good! Eight out of ten on him!

DEATH! Goth Doctor!

lmao she figured it out too. I guess that's just the joke of every max rank, huh?

Anyway, I loved Tae for The Unnamed Arcana. She's great. I love that she's actually a goth, actually has a very morbid sense of humor, actually talks about death a lot. They really leaned into the whole vibe and I appreciate that.

Also her look is impeccable obviously.

Tae's whole thing is that she's undergoing the process of Death, the transformation the card deals with. With the lost of her prestigious position at the research hospital, she is stuck working in a small back-alley clinic.

She definitely goes through a period of real mourning for her past self, resisting the forward motion of her life. But slowly she begins caring for the locals around her and builds a new patient base. Really, the drama with her past patient and the miracle cure for her is an afterthought; the Death aspect is definitely rooted in Tae herself. And by the end of the link, she is still dour and morbid, but there is life to her voice again.

She's great. Seven out of ten.

So Mishima.

SIGHS. Okay. I hate Mishima as a character and I think he represents everything that is bad about the Phantom Thieves and it's his actions (which were completely unasked for and unprompted) that leads the plot to the clusterfuck we're about to enter with Okamura's imminent death. Fuck the phansite and fuck this phuckboy.

BESIDES THAT

yeah he's a half-decent Moon? It's complicated, actually.

So his set up as the Moon is pitch-perfect. The Moon card is a place a person comes to after great upheaval in their life. It's a dark, quiet place for contemplation and reflection. Best case scenario is that it's a stepping stone in your journey towards the new dawn and the Sun.

But there are strange images in the reflection and the reflected light of the Sun in the Moon can lead a person astray and into madness.

Again: the Moon is an environment of possible madness. The Hanged Man is a risk taken that might led to madness. The Hanged Man goes into the deal eyes open, knowing the stakes. The Moon doesn't know the danger around them and has to keep from lingering.

So as the Moon, Mishima goes from being Kamoshida's punching bag into this dark, quiet place where he doesn't know what to do with himself, only that he needs a purpose. He settles on the Phansite.

Now, I think the game is arguing that running the Phansite gives Mishima direction and purpose, letting him move forward in his path.

I think that's undercut by how much the game itself points out Mishima's actions led to various fuck ups. Remember when Reverie had to be the one to tell him to give back the fucking money he'd collected from "donations"? Honestly, most of the conversations in this SLink are just trying to drag Mishima away from his worse impulses.

Which... also kinda works! I say the game's intended portrayal of the Moon is dumb, but my own is just as valid. I don't think Mishima has moved on and grown at all. I think he's been dazzled by the false, reflected light of the Moon (metaphorically, the allure of his nebulous fame re: the Phansite and his repeated misunderstanding of how to use it without being a malicious prick) and instead of continuing on his journey, he is staring slack-jawed into the illusion.

Sooooooooooo.... Nine out of ten, honestly!

But also I hate Mishima.

ONWARDS, INTO IMMINENT DISASTER!

[laplacesdevil]

@autismrobot5 yes. Yes tou can. I am SO sorry it took this long

We'll go over Miss B first because MMMMWAAAHHH!!!!! I LVOE HER!!!! YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH SHE IS JUST SO!! OOOOOOO!!!!! All of this will be under cut because it's gonna be Lengthy. Most information can be found on their toyhou.se profiles as well! (They're in the Main Projects folder!)

Miss B is a reporter! Specifically, she broadcasts to an outer audience (technically, us), making most, if not, all drawings with her canon. She also hosts podcasts, but she prefers to be seen the most! She has fourth-wall breaking powers where she speaks to the audience! I'd like to keep her backstory a secret for now, as I'm working on it on-and-off, but I will say she's drastically different from who she was back then and WILL stuff down all negative feelings bc of it. They hate talking about their past. I. Still haven't figured out their reporter voice, but their normal speaking voice is bugs bunny. They are both bunny-adjacent.

Miss B has her own universe btw! It's a floating-in-the-void studio mixed with a penthouse. Multi-floors. Middle floor is her whole studio. There's a compartment in the studio where all folders of possible candidates to interview. Btw the folders kinda hold like an wikipedia-level amount of knowledge on those characters.

Oh yeah forgot to mention, but Miss B also has a little sidekick of sorts! His name is Frankie :3 (he/ted/hun) n he's a friend's oc! At the moment, while said friend also doesn't know Miss B backstory, Frankie is Miss B's cameraman! Also he is 2. (He's actually like. 7-10 I'm gonna be honest I don't remember.) Miss B and teds parents are on pretty good terms with each other. Miss B also cares a lot for Frankie and always makes sure ted stays behind when it's on dangerous interviews + when hun is sick. Miss B doesn't actually need a cameraman, as it knows it's always (or usually) being watched, but it appreciates the company! Think of them having a slight Sonic-n-Tails friendship

I need you to know that she was originally my fem Springtrap human design before FNAF 3 came out OK? I'm putting her old pic here. Her name was Boldenzie, if u even care...... also her red suit is inspired by old Spamton. Sorry for the gunshot. As for Miss B herself, she came to be because i thought boldenzie was pretty. and i wanted her back. she was actually gonna be a feddyverse oc (Rivals with gracie) but it wasnt workin. also she was gonna be a bit like junko from . the. the. the. the rompers. i thought it would be fun for her to be multiverse, i think bc of santana

now..... santi..... My dearly beloved.

so. Fun fact. He's been meant for MANY projects before, but I couldn't make him stick, or I couldn't figure anything for the universe he was in. His "most recent" (abt a year ago, tbh) universe, he was named Marikit Guinto, nicknamed "Calamansi"/"Kalamansi". He had a partner named Rey Basa (they/it), nicknamed "Juniper"/"Juni". Tammi's siblings were in the universe too, but like I couldn't figure out what the universe could be like, so I trashed it. Tammi's siblings are ok btw. Would love to draw them digitally some time. Santana's original design + personality were based off of vry2k gordon because he's so fucking pretty

So, how did Santana FINALLY get to stick? So you see, I had a dream where it was like fnaf roblox building mode. And then there was a pretty cute health inspector because Of Course There Was. I don't remember much abt what happened, but when I woke up, I IMMEDIATELY went to drawing him. Thats when I noticed "Hey this looks like cala". Not sure how I got to him being multiverse, tbh, but then i incorporated his past selves

anyways. to ACTUAL santana stuff.

santana is an angel. He has a true form, but he never feels quite comfortable exposing it, unless in dire situations. He was aware of his past universes, and used to answer to a being called The Almighty One, who he sees as the one who created all the universes he's been in. His backstory goes into it a bit, but basically, after so many requests of a new universe, The Almighty One offers Santana a deal of providing him a universe: record all of the universes that had been created. Santana was desperate and accepted it, and The Almighty One sends him off.

so like that was a lie btw. well. not PARTICULARLY a lie, but it's an imposible task. The Almighty One isn't even the one who creates the universes, and there's different ones created every second.

OH OH OH. WAIT IM COPY AND PASTING THIS SHIT FROM MY DISCORD MESSAGES

Anyways I think I've said this before, but part of Santana knows his task is impossible. But he doesn't want to admit it. He doesn't want to admit that all this work is for nothing. Because if it's for nothing, then what does he have left?

He tries to make himself believe it's for something. To keep going. That the promise will be kept

By the dubs. he was also lied to that he couldn't interact with others. He can! The last time he did, The Almighty One FUCKED with him. Look, I've drawn Santana a few times and he seems elegant and shit, right? I promise you he is NOT that man is emotionally constipated but he's forcing himself to stay stoic and unattached because if he lets one vulnerability he's scared he will not be able to handle it.

So, unlike Miss B, he has to record everything himself in a journal he conjures up! btw i need you to know miss b sometimes has santana conjure up accessories for their outfits smtimes.

oh this is important. santana and miss b relationship. they certainly do got sm stuff btwn them. problem is that they both have partner problems (i.e., for santana "i watched my boyfriend fucking die in front of me"). Miss B acts real sweet on Santana (she calls him Santi!) and finds him really fun and interesting! Like, wow! Another multiverse traveler! A pretty and smart one too! So fashionable!!! And there's no info on him too? Wowza... Santana, on the other hand, does enjoy Miss B's company after going so long without interaction (will not admit it) and believes she (and Frankie) are the only ones he can interact with safely. But also he pushes the both of them away because he's kinda scared otherwise. He does care for them though.

Santana and Miss B want to get close to each other, but at the same time, the two of them keep their secrets guarded HARD. they complement each other really well.

anyways here's their playlists

miss b: youtube spotify

santana: youtube spotify (missing a song </3)

btw i should note this bc i havent gotten to drawing it yet, but santana sometimes gives himself tits because he likes havin em. he's got some kind of gender going on and i want it

[treatbuckywkisses]

HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))

(also this might be my longest rb so far)

SIX UPON A TIME

"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻

"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.

"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this 

"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.

"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.

"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil 

"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you 

Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)

A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK

Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed

"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me

HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????

"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻 

""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)

"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭 

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that 

CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT

"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK 

Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika 

What did the powers do 

Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅 

"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you 

"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????

"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.

"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless 

"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻 

I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!

time after time [6]

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: 12.8k

chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying

a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

six: butterfly effect

Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.

At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.

Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.

So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.

It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.

"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.

"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"

"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.

"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."

He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.

"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."

The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.

You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.

“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”

"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."

Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.

In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.

That was none of his business, though.

Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.

Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.

"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."

"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"

"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."

You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."

"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."

He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.

Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.

Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"

"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."

"Is that what they told you?"

"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."

Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.

"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.

You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."

Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.

What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.

It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.

It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.

A reason to get up in the morning.

*****

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.

The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.

For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?

But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.

You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.

But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.

And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.

Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.

"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.

Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.

You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.

"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.

"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"

You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.

Because you’ve pissed him off now.

"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"

"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"

It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.

So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.

His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."

Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"

You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.

"No. How did you get stuck?"

"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.

How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.

"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.

There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"

"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.

He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.

Right. He doesn’t normally do that.

Except he has.

He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.

"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.

"Like what?"

"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"

You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.

When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.

"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"

His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.

"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.

Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.

Seeing it now, though?

It makes your fingers twitch.

"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."

"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."

The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.

"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.

There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …

"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.

You swallow heavily. "Being noble."

Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."

He’s beautiful.

It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?

But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?

So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.

The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …

And yet.

His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.

There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.

"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."

Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.

"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.

"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."

There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"

And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.

You have to do this alone.

Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.

"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."

"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.

Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."

"How would you know?"

"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."

Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.

"Promise."

He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.

That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.

***

There’s been a change in the weather.

Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.

But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.

"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.

"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.

"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"

Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.

"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.

The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.

You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.

But this …

It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.

"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.

"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"

"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.

"You know what I mean."

"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.

Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"

Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.

"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."

And just like that, you’re back on track.

Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."

It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.

You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.

The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.

So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.

It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.

Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.

You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.

"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."

"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.

"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."

"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.

"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."

Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."

"Aren’t I?"

You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"

The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."

It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.

Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.

If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.

You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"

"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"

"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.

"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."

Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.

Useless.

You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.

"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.

"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.

Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.

"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.

Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."

"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.

"Try that again, less convincing?"

"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"

Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"

You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."

You don’t, though.

It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.

***

Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.

You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.

"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.

"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"

He shrugs. "For a walk."

You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"

"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"

Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."

Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.

The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"

Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"

"So? I like coffee."

"Really. I never knew."

"Screw you."

You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.

You miss his eyes.

Why won’t you look at me?

When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.

"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"

"Early." You blink.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."

You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.

"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."

"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"

His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.

When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.

It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.

Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.

"Are you off or on break?" you call over.

She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."

"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."

Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."

Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.

You blink. "My shadow."

"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"

"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.

"Not that old."

"No," you agree, "not that old."

For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.

Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.

Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."

You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.

The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.

Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."

"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.

So is hers.

"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.

You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."

"You feel like or you know?"

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.

"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.

"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."

"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."

"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."

Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.

She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.

***

Time passes while it’s standing still.

The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.

It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.

Which you’re getting better at.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Rinse and repeat.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

"You look like shit."

Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.

"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Not particularly."

"Do you want to talk about something else?"

You almost smile. "Like what?"

Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"

Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.

"Did I?"

"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."

Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?

It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.

"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.

"Doing what?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."

Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."

Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."

So you do.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.

You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.

Or maybe it’s dread.

"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.

You blink, sitting upright. "What?"

"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."

Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.

"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.

Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."

You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.

"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."

"Stop it!"

An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.

Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.

"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."

"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.

"You cannot keep this up."

"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"

"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."

Do as I tell you.

"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."

"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"

You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"

"And there it is."

You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.

The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."

"I didn’t—"

"Answer the question."

"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.

"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"

He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …

"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"

"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."

You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.

"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."

"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."

"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."

"That’s not true."

"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."

You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.

"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."

"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."

"And what’s seeing him going to do?"

You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.

"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.

Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.

Then, you walk through the closed door.

You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.

With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.

You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.

Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.

Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.

"Changed your mind?"

You glance into the room.

At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.

Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.

Try the floor.

You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.

"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.

"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."

"Would he remember if I did?"

"I don’t know."

You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."

You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.

Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.

"You feel better?" Strange asks.

"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."

"What was?"

"Just …"

Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.

Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.

How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.

You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.

"Did I do something?" you say quietly.

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."

You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.

When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.

He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.

The door clicks shut.

"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.

"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.

***

Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.

You can cling to that.

"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.

"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."

"Fair point," you concede.

It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.

"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."

It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."

She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."

"You used to have bangs?"

"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."

You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."

"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."

"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"

You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

It is.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"

"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."

"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.

"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."

"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."

"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."

"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."

"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."

You know.

Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.

It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.

So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"

"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.

Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.

"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.

"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.

"There you are."

You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.

He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.

"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.

"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.

You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.

You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?

"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"

He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.

So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.

"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"

He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."

And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.

Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."

"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."

"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.

"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."

"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."

"I don’t trust her," you mutter.

"And yet the cat’s the weird one."

"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."

"There’s pie?" Bucky says.

"Not for you!"

You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.

That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.

Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.

Again and again and again and a—

"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"

You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.

Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.

You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.

"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.

Liar, liar, liar.

***

At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.

You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …

"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Not yet.

He got shot again yesterday.

A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."

You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"

"Today is Friday, July 4th."

You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.

What did you expect?

"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"

"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.

He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."

That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.

"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.

"You wish."

Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.

"You look like shit."

Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.

"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"

"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"

Not this again.

"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"

"Alright," he says.

And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.

But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.

There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.

I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.

That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.

In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.

"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.

"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."

"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."

"But if I could prevent it—"

"It already happened."

"I can make it not happen."

"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."

"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.

Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."

He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.

Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"

"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"

"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."

"No one ever feels ready until they try."

And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.

The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.

When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.

"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.

Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.

You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.

The band around your wrist does the same.

"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.

Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.

The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.

You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.

There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.

I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.

You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.

"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"

Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.

You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.

You’re all alone.

***

Three, two, one—

"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"

You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."

He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.

You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.

The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.

"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"

Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.

Strange still hasn’t returned.

The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.

It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.

"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.

The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.

Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.

"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."

But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.

Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.

Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.

Bucky still mumbles in his.

You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.

You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.

Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.

And she’s staring right at you.

You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.

A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.

"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.

The cat meows in disappointment.

Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.

She rubs against your palm.

You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."

Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.

This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.

So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.

And then you wait until he gets up.

It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.

It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.

Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.

In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.

You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.

Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.

But what else can you do?

You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.

That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.

Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.

Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.

That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.

The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.

Nothing else will.

There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.

"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.

"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.

If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—

"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"

You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.

You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.

Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."

You smile. "Good for you."

"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"

And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"

You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.

The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.

"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"

And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.

*****

"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.

"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.

"Not at all."

Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.

You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.

"Are you gonna move any time soon?"

Well. Mostly.

At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.

With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.

You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.

It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.

While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.

Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.

"You almost done in here?"

"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"

Bucky pointed over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.

Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"

"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"

"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.

"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.

You didn’t even make it to the staircase.

"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"

No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.

You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.

"What?" Bucky said.

"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.

"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.

Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.

You should’ve eaten more.

As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.

You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.

Not good enough.

Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.

A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.

It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.

Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.

"—d’you—see that—"

"—could’ve—sworn there—”

And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.

chapter seven

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

[pinkseas]

[parasocial bestie] to both responses on ur wip fics; i'm not a writer myself, like in a fic way altho i pour my brainrots out in a narrative way its a Mess, but i get what you mean!! it does feel like the more you stretch a story out there's bound to be a lot of loose ends and gaps you need to fill since you basically expanded it. in a way its how it is with drawing when you do big Big projects, having too much blank spaces over your main subjects without a decent background of the piece can get Annoying.

"i have my overall goal and less of an idea of how to reach it" OKAY BUT PERSONALLY? not even gonna relate genshin than my own original stories i always have this problem and still do, like. having a Beginning and End but literally almost no middle bc theres SO MUCH TO FILL and you have to think how it progresses chronologically And logically how it reaches the ending you imagined. it felt easy, it felt nice and 'complete', until you think of the middle and thats how i have stories that never finishes itself and stick to just throwing ideas around but unsure to put it as its canon or not o)-( so yeah!! the closest i can understand of a Process especially to long narratives.

ANYWAY THE,.... THE LUMINE ZHONGI @XIAO LYRICS,.... when hte,... when the UHUHUHUHUHUHSUHGUFHGUHUGSUDHFSKFHSKDJH

oh. yeah. i realized i did sorta sent a Bunch of brainrot BUT LIKE PREE MUCH EVERYTHGIN I HAD RELATED TO UM,.. AKFJHD THE XIAO DYING ONE OOPS cus,..... becus ughuhfjfdhgk its like a Big fav for me and am curious (and now i am a lil embarrassed JKAFHSDKFJH) and anyways i have a lot of Impulsive Brainrot Showers,....... scattered in that big one i told u cus of the Potential,....

also ill have u know during the recovery after xiao woke he can be a little cold bc the incident rlly shot down his physical constitution to nature so lumine covers him in a lil blanket over his shoulders that he can walk around with and that imagery is probably an Icon that represents the whole brainrot in general. blanket taco burrito xiao i think. anyway lumine got bored and did crochet, taught xiao how since its easier than knitting that thoma taught her, and the guy spent hours continuously crochetting a sheet like probably miles long till late at night bc lumine forgot teach him how to End the stitching. sweet lovely dumbass <3333

yes yes the expansion and more gaps to fill !!! that def makes sense with art too we are shaking hands rn... and idk when you have the filler/details planned beforehand it can be SO fun but when youre struggling to fill in the gaps. well. Fawk

admittedly cannot relate too too much with having a beginning and end, 80% of the time when i write i start from the middle there's just So Much Middle and then i dont know what goes where or how to connect it or what to make the beginning or end and and. explodes. actually tbf i have a solid beginning idea for both current wips and a half-decent ending for one of them but god help me figure out how the FUCK im gonna end the xiaolumi one i havent even thought about it yet it could honestly go on forever <- my worst nightmare.... stories that are never finished my BELOATHED i definitely get that god we are shaking hands once more

THAT'S ONE OF MY RLY OLD FAVORITE SONGS ITS SOOOOOOOOOOOO. xiao when he sees himself as an object or a tool or a weapon or something horrible but never really a Person and the song captures that so well when you think of him and the uckfingfg.f the fuckifngfg.

explodes and dies

THE XIAO DYING ONE GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD hold on finishing responding to this first

cold man with a blanket over his shoulders what if i Cried. that is so perfect in every way shape and form dear LORD. and lumi teaching him crochet and forgetting to teach him how to end the stitching is both so cute and so fucking funny dear lord this poor man sitting there for hours going on and on and on........

XIAO ALMOST DYING. GOD.

i have too many thoughts on death and near death and grief. something about xiao not allowing himself to grieve or process that he'd really been dead for a moment there because he survived, it's in the past, what is there to worry about? what is there to think of? it doesnt matter anymore. lumine struggling to come to terms with how close it was, constantly pushing back the what-ifs, if she'd been sooner if she'd been later if she hadn't been able to help him the way she did if zhongli hadn't come if if if if. zhongli, so accustomed to deaths of those so dear to him and moving forward from it, still shaken to the core because no matter how many times it happens you never really get used to it. it doesnt ever get easier. similar to xiao, telling himself over and over that it doesnt matter, all that matters is that xiao is okay, there's no need to grieve or be upset when he's alright. it's pointless.

lumine (and paimon) (and probably also venti lbr) bonking them both on the head because its important to process your emotions, because the fact that xiao isnt dead doesn't just magically get rid of the fear and the grief that the situation created. yes we Are talking about our feelings you stupid fucks ignoring the elephant in the room will not make the elephant in the room disappear. ignoring your feelings will not make them vanish it will only allow them to fester and grow stronger and more destructive!!!!

you'd think that people who've been alive for thousands of years wouldve learned how to express themselves by now but lumine and venti have to really push them through it.

and idk. just. the physical repercussions and what that means for him mentally. the intense feelings of self hate and uselessness amplified by being stuck in bed, amplified by being unable to move and fight and function the way he used to, having to relearn such "basic" things. he would be SO hard on himself about it. he should be better than this, he shouldve avoided it, it never shouldve happened in the first place, he should be recovering faster (nevermind that he is recovering exceptionally quickly in the first place, all things considered. just adepti things). and working through all of that, working through the frustration and the helplessness, being shown endless patience and love and care through it all, i just. mmmmmmmmmmmmmgmnfmngmfngmfdgnmg fuck.

finding himself useful and kept around and maybe even cared for as a tool vs being very suddenly forced to face the reality that even when he cannot fulfill his duty, even when he cant fight, even when he has no "use" and cant fulfill what he sees as his purpose- he's alive. he's cared for. he's loved and learning and moving forward regardless.

[chaseadrian]

omg nina! how about “permission to lean in?” “permission granted.” please? with steve bc we know he’s an idiot (affectionate) thank you!!!

hi theo!!! ghfdj this is a cute one omg

send me one + a st character

don’t scoff at me

word count: 1.5k pairing: steve harrington/gn!reader summary: steve scoffs, and you don't appreciate it. a/n: reader is like kind of dramatic in this, fair warning. if there’s gendered language in this when referring to reader please let me know!! <33

Steve always let you or Robin pick the movies. He never had a vested interest in the actual movie, it was more about the three of you crowded onto the couch, flinging popcorn at each other and making jokes.

Tonight it was just you and Steve, however, after Robin rushed into Family Video, slapping her hands down on the counter to draw your attention. She had a date, and she was nearly pulling her hair out as she recounted the tale of spilled coffee, rushed apologies, offers to buy dinner as a consolation.

So it was you and Steve on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you two, in the space Robin usually occupied.

"Can't believe Robin got a date. Out of the three of us, she's the one with plans on a Friday night." Steve grabbed a handful of popcorn, bringing it to his mouth and sticking his tongue out, grabbing one piece at a time with the tip of his tongue like a frog.

You started throwing popcorn up in the air to catch, missing most of them, "You telling me you couldn't have rustled up a date for tonight if you tried?"

"I mean I could've, but I'm kinda over the whole hook up scene right now." He took a swig of his soda, cringing at the carbonation, "It's overwhelming after awhile."

"Sure, yeah, right. Totally get that." Your voice dry, you kept yourself focused on the popcorn in the air, no matter how many times it hit you in the nose or how jarring the scoff from Steve's mouth was.

He shoved the last few pieces of popcorn from his hand into his mouth and crossed his arms, slouching down on the couch.

You let the movie continue for several minutes—fidgeting in your seat, twiddling your thumbs, finishing off your can of soda—before speaking up again.

"Why did you scoff?"

Steve looked over at you, scratching the tip of his nose, eyebrows furrowing, "What?"

"Earlier, I agreed with you about hooking up and you like, scoffed at me."

"Oh, I dunno, instinct or something." He started sorting through the popcorn, picking out the kernels with the least grease.

"Hm." You leaned against the arm of the couch, setting your head in your hands.

He paused, looking up at you again, "Wait, are you mad about that?"

You rolled your eyes, "Well, ugh, I mean, do I not look like someone who can get a date?"

"No!"

You recoiled.

"I mean yes! You just don't—" He set the popcorn down on the floor, sliding into the middle cushion and turning to face you, one leg crossed over the other as his elbow rested atop the back cushion, "You don't hook up."

"I could hook up! I could hook up a lot, you don't know what I do. It's unfair of you to assume." You didn't know why this bothered you so much, why Steve seeing you as this sexless...thing was grating your brain so much.

He cocked his head at you, a smirk playing on his lips, "Seriously, c'mon."

You forced a frown, staring at him from under your brows, "Okay, yeah, fine, I don't hook up. Whatever." You pointed at him, "But I could if I wanted to!"

Steve raised his hands, "I'm not arguing that point!"

"Good." You flopped back against the couch.

"Good!" He followed suit, facing himself forward, his shoulder settling against yours.

The two of you sat there with your eyes on the screen for several more minutes, flickering glances every other minute. Neither of you moved, save for the anxious kick of Steve's ankle that kept stopping and starting and stopping and starting and stopping again every time he noticed you glancing at him.

"Wonder how Robin's date is going." He said, still looking forward.

"Yeah. Wonder if they're gonna hook up."

"Oh my god!" He turned towards you again, covering his face with his hands and pushing his hair up.

"You started it!" You matched his posture, pulling a leg up underneath you.

"I just scoffed! On accident! I didn't mean anything by it!"

"Oh come on, Steve. You scoffed at literally the idea of me hooking up with someone. That's so rude!” 

“No! I scoffed at the idea of someone hooking up with you!” 

You knitted your brows together, eyes flicking around trying to make sense of what that could even mean, “What’s the difference!” 

“Because you shouldn’t be hooking up with just any rando on the street!” He stood up, situating a hand on his hip and gesturing with the other, “You should be hooking up with someone who cares about you! A lot of guys, a—and probably girls, would take advantage of you!” 

You glared up at him, “Isn’t that the point of a hookup?! You do it all the time!” You put on your best Steve voice, “Pinocchio knew life was better without strings, and so do I.’ You literally say that every other Friday.” 

“Well now I want the strings! And you should too!” 

He pointed at you, and you stood up to match him, frustration bubbling in your chest, “Well maybe I don’t want them! Maybe I just want to feel attractive and desirable.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his forehead as you spoke. 

"And it feels like shit that my best friend would scoff at even the notion that I could have that! Or—or that I would want that!” 

“Because you already have it with me!” He threw his arms up, freezing when he realized what he said, crossing his arms again, his gaze falling down as he muttered, “Y’know if you...if you want it.” 

You stood just as frozen in place as he was, mouth hanging open, dumbfounded by the confession. But a confession of what? 

Feelings? Attraction? Did Steve want you the same way he wanted other people, or was he serious about the strings? 

“What?” You asked, expression still stuck in anger. 

He looked at you, his mouth changing shape as he started and abandoned several thoughts before finally settling on, “Nothing!” He pulled a hand away from his chest, letting it fall down against his thigh with a slap, “I’m sorry for scoffing.” 

“I don’t forgive you.” You put your hands on your hips, “Not until you tell me what you mean.” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing before he spoke. 

“This would be so easy if we weren’t friends. Usually I just see a girl and all I have to do is comb my fingers through my hair or show her the romcom section and boom, date. But it just got...old. Go on a few dates, hook up, go on a few more dates, hook up more—”

He stopped himself when he noticed you squinting your eyes, head cocking as you watched him start talking in circles. 

“My point is, they were all great girls. Nice girls, should’ve felt something for at least one of them.” He raised his shoulders, lips forming a thin line, “But I didn’t.” 

Steve smiled to himself, eyes on the floor, “And then a couple months ago, we were—” He let out an exhale from his nose, “We were in the drive-thru and you leaned fully over me to order your food, like it was nothing. And then you um, you looked back and smiled at me and that...feeling, I think it was what I thought I would feel with someone else.” 

“But you felt it with me.” 

“I felt it with you.” He nodded, taking a step towards you, “I still feel it with you.”

You looked up at him as he drew in closer, swallowing hard, “Even though you scoffed.” 

Steve brushed a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes, “Yes, because—and this is totally selfish—I don’t like the idea of you hooking up with other people. I’m not saying you should hook up with me, but...I wouldn’t be against it.” 

Laughing, you pushed his shoulder, starting to feel stupid for making such a big fuss over a scoff. 

“You gotta admit,” He said, “If I never scoffed, and if you weren’t such a drama queen, I probably also wouldn’t have told you how I felt. And then you wouldn’t have told me how you felt. Which you still haven’t done by the way.” He leaned over and nudged you with his elbow, “Wink wink.” 

You shook your head, heat flushing your cheeks, your gaze turned downward, “I think you’re obnoxious.” Looking up at him, you caught the sparkle in his eye as he waited for you to continue, “But I could feel the same way about you. If you’re a good enough kisser.” 

Steve’s jaw dropped, but he quickly replaced the offense with a smug smile, “Okay well, in that case. Permission to lean in?” 

Wrapping a hand in his sweatshirt, you pulled him down to your lips, your other hand sliding into the back of his hair. You understood now more than ever why Steve was known for his hair, the strands knotting around your fingers, like vines on an old house. His lips were soft as he kissed you, palms resting against your cheeks. 

You pulled back and grabbed his wrists, keeping his hands on you, your noses grazing together as you both smiled. 

“Permission granted.” 

He scoffed and kissed you on the nose. 

[tasteofgummies]

Can i request a relationship with jonathan and also joseph(part3 specifically) 👉👈

Im nonbinary and use they/them, but like to be called "boyfriend" when it comes to relationships. I love being called petnames like "darling," "pretty boy," "angel," and "sweetie."

Im about 5'0 (thats 152.4cm) with a small frame and im really into tall people. 👀

I know a lotta useless information and i hyperfixate on certain topics (i have ADHD).

I'm really bad at math and reading, and generally im not very smart, but i am full of LOVE :)

Im a good listener, but often ask people to repeat themselves if i was hardcore spacing off while they were talking. Im good with animals. Im pretty good at drawing. Im really cuddly. I really like fire bc it is neat. Its easy to make me laugh, usually at dumb stuff that aren't actually real jokes. If you say "peepee" to me i will cackle and that is a threat.

I quote memes and vines a lot. And if the person im talking to doesnt get it, i will show the meme/vine to them on the spot.

If someone says something mean to me, i usually let it roll off my back, but some things just stick with me and make me feel self-conscious forever. I need reassurance if im not in a good mental headspace.

I hope that info isnt waaaay too specific 😭 thanks for reading all that lmao 🙏

Sorry for the wait, really, i was without internet because of the place, but here it is 💜

Jonathan x you ✨

•Jonathan is also very full of love, he loves you so much that the "warm feeling in his chest" is now a giant forest fire situation

•He doesn't like when you call yourself "not very smart" at all, you are very smart! He will reassure the hell outta you when you say that

•Can and will listen to your favorites topics for hours! You can always see his "i'm so in love with my angel" smile while you talk

•This man right here is the king of pet names, sometimes he wants to call you by your name but his mouth just says: "My love, what time is it?", "Darling boy, how have you been?"

•He's never upset to repeat himself, he gets that you space off sometimes, and that's fine

•Like we could see with Danny, Jonathan is an animal lover, so he's quite joyful his boyfriend is good with them

•"The animals love you for your pure heart, angel, just like i do" he says while you got a puppy in your lap

•In his birthday, he asks for a portrait of yourself, please 👉👈 He would love to have it in his room and kiss it every night

•Makes campfires for you, and you eat marshamellows together

•Jonathan doesn't fully understand your humor, but finds it cute

•He search for "most popular vines to quote" in Google, the boy tries

•Very angry when someone is mean to you, and won't let them get away with it

•"You should reconsider what kind of person makes such a beautiful person feel bad for pleasure! That was unkind from you and you don't have the right to speak to my darling or to anyone like that"

•When you aren't at your best, giant teddy bear Jonathan Joestar is there to help, he will praise you all you need as he kisses all of what you call "imperfections"

Joseph x you ✨

•He calls you baby boy, pretty boy or simple plain Honey, but is very likely that he has another c u r s e d petnames

•Joseph Joestar is an asshole who makes fun of your height, but he's also really into it, makes him want to protect you 🥺

•You remind him of his old days, so he's smooth with you

•Young Joseph probably will be learning about the topics you hyperfixate in, but this one is just listening and ocassionally asking

•He's not annoyed at all for having to repeat himself with you, only a little concerned if you're a Crusader, because he's scared you were spacing off while he was giving information that could help you in case you were in danger

•Joseph likes dogs, and loves how every animal you pet in the streets starts following you, when this happens, he lifts you up and holds you like a baby in his arms, "They are my little beautiful angel, back off" he says to the dog that was following you after you pat their head a block ago, then he kisses you sweetly

•When you laugh at vines or memes that aren't actually jokes, he laughs with you and smiles, because he remembers having that crackhead energy himself (also i hc that in modern day, young Joseph would have been like a tiktok/vine superstar bc he's funny and also really hot)

•Oh, you are cuddly, well, you are talking to Mr "my hugs are the tightest ever" Joestar

•He protecc

•Really, every single detail that can make you feel bad, he fixes it, no one has the right to make his angel boy feel bad

•This man simps hard for you, for him there's nothing wrong in you, everything is just perfect

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Heyo can I request a hq matchup thingy? I've been all over yer blog and its cute!

I'm 5'8 (on the verge of 5'9), sorta athletic build, lanky but not really slim and more on the curvy side, she/they, light redish brown skin tone, I have shoulder length coily dark brown hair with bangs, glasses, i wear beanies to hide my bedhead and I have a slash on my left eyebrow from when i scraped it on a desk at age nine it was very fun. Totally unrelated note but my friends say i smile like Squirtle and when I'm mad i just look like a really intimidating baby duck 😞

I'm a sagittarius, I have ADHD, a little tomboyish personality wise bc i wear a lot of skirts but im nowhere near girly, I'm a bit rowdy but I'd never do anything to make someone uncomfortable, i gots mommy issues and a little bit of a temper but I'm very approachable, I speak fluent sarcasm and can come off a little rude if ya don't know me that well but I'm very respectful but i kinda swear a lot....

Despite my 'sense of instability' i come from a family full of lawers and veterans (kept separate my parents broke up before i as born), growing up I didnt have the best childhood so i always have empathy and best believe i will fact check you if your out of line 🤬. I'm the one who's willing to cheer you on and support you through thick and thin as well as being at almost every game or event your preforming/ playing at :), I'm very generous and a bit of a care giver(more of a simp if ya squint): ya want water?? "here have mine", hungry? ''oh want McDonald's? i can pay if ya want'' cold?? "here my hoodie im pretty warm already"

My hobbies include singing, playing bass and acoustic guitar, both traditional + digital drawing, dancing and i play a lot of sports like volleyball (i spike and/or set), softball (pitch), boxing + track and field (are those two even a sport???). I've always wanted to be a really big artist and if it doesn't work out i can always try out voice acting bc even though my voice is pretty low i can make it really high pitch like shoujo anime girl high pitch or become a sports journalist ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I'm the memer of my friend group and i like to think my sense of humor and style are on point. I'm a big horror movie junkie... from 80s to late and early 2000s, every slashers, thrillers to sci-fi trust me I've watched it all >:), i loveeeee Pokémon i may or may mot have had a huge crush on Brock and James when i was 6 , and Sanrio, i stick kuromi stickers on everything i own 😅. I also have a really big Batman obsession (grew up around a lot of bois other than my brothers) but i prefer MARVEL...

Sorry this seems pretty long and totally disregard if yer busy but have a good day/night <3

@callmedirtbag

Romantic Matchup

Semi Eita

How Y’all Met

So you we’re new to Shiratorizawa

And you we’re just walking around campus when you found a gym

When you peeked inside you saw a empty gym

But what really intrigued you was the volleyball net and balls inside 👀

The gym looked pretty empty so you decided to mess around with the volleyballs for a bit

You got so into your practicing that you didn’t notice Semi walk in

Semi was a little confused on why there was just a random person in the gym

But he couldn’t deny that you had some skill 😗

However he saw that you were struggling with your sets

So he decided to help you 😃

Ngl you we’re very kinda embarrassed about getting caught practicing

But he assured you that he didn’t really care and that the rest of the team wasn’t coming for another 30 minutes or so

After hearing that you gladly accepted his offer to help you practice

You two actually got to know each other quite well during this time

So when the rest of the team started filing in to practice

You gave Semi your number and told him to text you if he ever wanted to hang out

You left just before Tendou started picking on Semi for blushing 👀

Anyways you guys became really good friends and would hang out A LOT

So nobody was too shocked when you both decided to start dating

But apparently Tendou and Shirabu had made a bet on it 😅

What They Love About You

He loves the fact that your kind

But will fuck someone up if needed 🙂

He knows he never has to worry about you

He loves that your a fellow musician

To him it’s just one more thing you two have in common

And it’s one more thing he gets to do with you

He loves how supportive you are

Even though you know that semi doesn’t get to play that much

You still show up to EVERY one of his games to cheer the team on

And oh god when he does get to play

I swear people from OUTSIDE the gym can hear you cheering for him

Honestly he doesn’t mind if your a simp 👀

There’s a teeny tiny 🤏 part of him that likes to be babied

Favorite Things To Do Together

Oml he loves for horror movie marathons

He absolutely loves them

Because A: he gets to watch almost EVERY single horror movie made

And B: he gets to watch them with you :D

Oh and he also loves to watch any and all marvel movies with you 👀

But other than movies

He loves to make music with you

Duh

It’s usually you both playing instruments together

But every now and then one of you will sing 🎶

Random Hc

You two write the CUTEST songs together

But you never ever sing them

Like wtf you two

One time semi offered to help you practice your spikes

And you accidentally hit him in the face 💀

Now he swears you have a better spike then ushijima 👀

Your friends mentioned your squirtle smile to him...

And now he can’t unsee it 🥲

Astrology

The security and flexibility they can give one another.

Once they open up to one another and to appreciate their different philosophies in love and in life, these two have potential for steamy relations, deep connections and heartfelt respect.

As long as they communicate and celebrate their differences, theirs will be a passionate relationship.

Both Scorpio and Sagittarius see each day as an adventure and as an endless opportunity to explore, to probe, to learn. Shared escapades bring them closer.

While Sagittarius may get fed up with Scorpio’s stubbornness and inflexibility, Scorpio could be thinking their Sagittarius mate is just a little too hotheaded.

They’ll enjoy learning together, and travel could be very beneficial for this pair.

Their relationship is always on the go!

Mars is the God of War, opening the door for Scorpio’s determined, courageous character.

Mars, when combined with Pluto, represents rebirth and renewal.

Jupiter focuses on philosophy, higher learning, expansion, optimism, luck and travel.

These planetary attributes — of growth, expansion and masculine energy — combine to create a sustainable relationship of mutual admiration.

Overall Aesthetic

90s

No Scrubs - TLC

Say My Name - Destiny’s Child

She’s So High - Tai Bachman

99 Red Balloons - Nena

[fabulaee]

COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE

// A 🐺 fic based on my Stay journey’s aesthetics which was a coffee shop au bc they remind me of those times when I used to go to the café to draw and would see fellow regulars but unlike y/n and Chan, I never interact with them. We all just share a table 😂😂😂

*

*

*

Monday. Wednesday. Friday

That was the set schedule for your coffee run. MWF from 9 am to 10, then coming back with your study supplies from 1 to 4 in the afternoon. It was routine; the small college café a safe haven from the slight messy floor of your dorm and the formal vibe of the library. Here you were focused and at peace of mind. The aroma of the coffee beans and soft sounds of the coffeeshop’s playlist serving as background noise.

There wasn’t much students at this time of the day compared to the much later prime of the evenings. The café then filled with college youths grabbing a drink after a long day’s worth of lectures and test reminders or staying to cram a night’s worth of information. There was something about cafés that seemed inviting and less suffocating yet at the same time a place where you can find the nursing students with their big thick books opened with streaks of neon yellow running across them.

“Vanilla Bean Cold Brew for y/n!”

Standing up, you went to grab your drink leaving behind the pastel rainbow set of highlighters and gel pens on top of your notes. You quickly thanked the barista as he handed you a straw before plopping back down on your seat continuing where you last went off. Something about the history of impressionistic art. You sighed as you lifted your eyes across the room, it was currently 2:30 pm on a Wednesday afternoon. A good time to take a break before your mind starts to commit brain fart.

*

Chris Bang. Affectionally called Bang Chan by his friends. Music major with golden hands, a good candidate for the honor roll, member of the varsity swim team, and resident social butterfly. An all rounder any college is proud to have.

You heard about him once or twice from your common friend, Yang Hongseok. They met at the gym apparently and became quick friends through the Japanese exchange student, Adachi Yuto, and their shared love for fitness.

You see him sit at the same spot everyday since the middle of sophomore year. His laptop with the cute decal of Deadpool open and his AirPods snugly tucked in his ears. He's always has his blonde head bopping to a song he's playing on either his phone or his laptop. Always seemed so engrossed in this little world he made for himself across the room, ignorant to the bustling crowd of students that come and go.

He looks up catching you off guard. His lips curled slightly upwards, chuckling to himself as he watches your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. Great, he must think I'm a weirdo!

With a quick exchange of nods you both went back to doing your own thing. Just a regular day at the coffee shop.

*

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

It's the Friday following Monday's slightly embarrassing incident. You looked up to find the same Chris Bang, laptop in hand, smiling at you like a friendly yet lost puppy. Warm brown orbs looking back at yours.

“My laptop's about to die and this is the only table with an outlet.” He explains himself, a tiny awkward giggle making up as the period.

“O-oh, of course!” You stuttered, hastily making room for him despite the large space as you swiped for the stray pastel highlighters and napkins closer. “No one's sitting here so go ahead.”

He whispered a small thanks before setting down his laptop to grab his bag from his usual spot while you went back to your notes. It was silent for awhile, only the sounds of pen against paper and the soft tick tack of the keys. At some point you hit a mind block, eyes glazing in boredom as you stared at the blank space of your notebook. You felt your table mate leave his stationary position too. he stretched in his seat before turning his attention to you.

Sensing his sudden gaze on you, you flashed him a small smile. You were never one to start a conversation, often keeping to yourself and minding your own business. A bit of a complete opposite towards the friendly Australian who somehow knows at least three students from each program.

He smiles back at you showing off his cute dimples and an outstretched hand. “Hey, I'm Chan. I never caught your name.”

Again with the cute giggle. It seems to be like a signature to him but it's cute still the same. You grasped his hand giving it a soft shake. “Y/n,” you answered curtly.

*

The following days you find yourself hanging around Chan more. Afternoon study sessions were no longer a date between you and the textbook or the small watercolor set you laid out on the table. Chan was there to fill the space making the long table that was a party of one to a party of two and maybe some on certain busy hours but mostly it was the both of you in your own tiny world.

You got to know him, his likes and dislikes. His major and passion for music, sometimes slipping in a few complaints about certain homework here and there; What else he likes to do. Apparently mr. Chris Bang was gifted in so many areas you often wondered what good he must've done in his previous life to be this gifted. Not only was he a jack of all trades, he's also the master of all.

You even had a small debate between Deadpool and Spider-Man. God, he's such a nerd it's adorable!

In return he knew these things about you. How you're taking up art as your major hoping to make it out as an illustrator one day—

“it would be so cool if you drew a variant cover for Deadpool!”

“Ha! We'll see about that, Chris Reynolds.”

He knows how you like to collect stickers and are quite passionate about making sure your notes are beautiful. He knows how you loved your drinks iced despite it being the middle of winter.

“Isn’t the weather too cold for that?” He’d ask with a quirk of his brow, amused brown eyes glancing at the iced hazelnut latte you have in your hands.

“Nope!” you replied, taking a sip as you did so. “It’s always the perfect weather for an iced coffee, Bang.”

He only chuckled at that.

*

It hit you like a freight train. You didn’t mean to fall for him. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You and Chan? No way, it was just supposed to be just friends. The kind where you hang out and have fun, no feelings attached. He was just supposed to be that regular from the café, right?

That was the plan, right?

But you can’t deny the small flutters from your heart much like those newly emerged butterflies. How you can feel that giddy feeling of excitement when you spot his mop of chocolate curly locks outside the café’s window. How you mirror his smile when you get together to talk about anything and everything under the sun. Bang Chan in all his cute dimpled glory, soft curls and hearty giggles was just too much to adore.

Yet it wasn’t that what pulled you in to the Music major. You felt love blossom when you both stayed up late, when the café was quiet after a busy day. The only people around being a couple medical students, some late night goers, and the employees. You felt the tiny flower buds start to bloom when he stayed with you then; keeping you company under the dimly warm fluorescent lights, laptop tucked away and a hand playing with yours.

You felt it bloom when you cuddled on the booth’s sofa one rainy November day. He scoots over next to you when he saw you shiver from the corner of his eyes. He’s naturally warm —you’d often tease him how he made the room hot. Why? well it’s because he’s from Australia! which earned the loud chorus of laughter from his friends and Chan’s ears turning into the color of the fire hydrant.

“Babygirl, you’re shivering.” He mutters as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you gently towards him. You accepted the subtle invitation, sides sticking together as you both went through forgotten notes and half finished coffees.

You felt it when you caught yourself staring at him a little longer than intended. Eyes drifting from Jisung’s expressive face to glance at the older one. You watched him look at the former with such adoration in his eyes; how he looked like a proud dad. You watched him nod along and laugh to Jisung’s animated story about how he and Hyunjin would fight back in the day, a fact that still seemed to shock you seeing how they are the best of friends.

Your eyes would linger on him while he worked on his music; focused and determined, hiding the exhaustion and sleepless nights prominent on the dark circles under his eyes. He was handsome even if he looked like shit. Hell, he was handsome even when he sported the infamous broccoli colored hair. You’d find yourself in a trance, like it was a dream. The world didn’t matter as much anymore when it was only you and Chan in the small dimly table, surrounded by the aroma of coffee beans at the small quaint cafe at the corner of the street.

*

You loved him. You loved him in the most beautiful of ways; you loved him in the most perfect highs and in all those crevices full of flaws.

You loved him in those bright moments, when the lights were shining on him during a 3RACHA gig. How they made him more beautiful, how they made him stand out from the 2 younger members. You loved watching him do what he loves; how he immersed himself in a world that was different from yours. How his version of colors and dried paint were beats and melodies, rhythm and tempos.

You loved him in the lowest moments; when the tide was high enough to cover you. You loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, how he became a shoulder to lean on when you felt the world was against you and you to him. When he would open up to you about his worst fears and his grandiose ambitions; when he spilled his heart out at the underlaying insecurity that’s been biting him due to his perfectionist attitude. You became his confidante; the one he can trust his heart to.

You loved him in the times he was vulnerable. You loved him when he would bask in glory and shining lights. You loved him like those cheesy lines in love songs. You loved him like how the tides would look at the moon in awe and yearning; gravitating with every push and pull.

You loved him in ways words can never describe. How the seeds he planted in your heart bloomed to the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.

You love him simply because he’s Chan.

You promised yourself you’d be just friends. It was safer that way but then again, what is love when she’s not one without twists and turns?

What is love when she comes to you, sneaky and sly like a weed disguised as a flower, whispering into your ear that it’s him.

It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

It was always him, it just took you some time to figure that out.

*

When you first met Chan, he was simply a friend of a friend. Someone you knew because your brothers are his friends. He was the guy you’d hear about in passing, the popular cool guy with a heart bigger than a massive sized teddy bear and a smile that could cure the most depressing of days. Someone who, in probability, would just be an acquaintance to you.

He was that guy you regularly saw at the coffee shop you visited every week. He was just some guy from the music department who would flash you a friendly smile because you were a familiar face.

Funny how fate made him more than what you originally expected him to be.

[express-archives]

i think the first option is most likely, depending on how obssessively sm haunts chantilly during the gang's time in the spire of shadows/deceit & truth/whatever it's called HELP.

...spoiler alert: he never leaves them the fuck alone.

it starts towards the beginning of the arc when the entire gang is resting of course. before pv wakes up and wanders, chantilly wakes up and wanders first, too haunted by nightmares and shadow milk cookie whispering evil lies into their brain to sleep but also too scared to wake pv. they want him to rest, knowing well that he needs it the most. 🥺 and they just kind of feel bad relying on him so much. they're grown enough to care for themselves.

so this quiet and sweet cookie just kind of wanders to try to take the edge off, but not too far—going too far is explicitly against their mentor's wishes. "stay close to me," he had advised. "we don't know what awaits us."

'us,' as in the two of them specifically. shadow milk hasn't left chantilly alone since the first time they met, and his ass for SURE isn't leaving pv alone. so, pv advises chantilly to stick close, because the two of them are no doubt sm's main targets.

chantilly settles a short distance away, drawing shapes into the floor that glow golden but fade moments later using low-energy magic, absentmindedly skimming through the books lying around, looking at the pictures on the wall. pretty much just lingering. doing anything to keep their mind busy. but the feeling of being watched never fades, and it eats away at them. they're having trouble doing anything to distract themselves under the scrutiny of those eyes that they can't seem to locate.

so they just kind of settle down against a wall. and up goes a shield around them. it makes them feel a little bit safer (foolishly, as shadow milk will later tell them, because they're seriously dumb to think their little barrier would do anything to keep him away—so dumb it's almost cute!) and gives them something to focus on maintaining.

some time goes by and a little knock on their barrier jolts them out of their focus.

thankfully, it's just pv, and when the barrier goes down he sits next to them.

"what are you doing out here?"

"i can't sleep. and you? you should be resting more than anyone else..."

"nor can i."

"mmh."

MY CUTIES AHHHHH okay okay back to storytelling

the two of them sit together for some time, basking in the comfort of having company, before pv gets up to continue his lil wander. chantilly goes with of course! he's insistent that they do, anyways, since it's unsafe to be alone and vulnerable.

unfortunately being together didn't make them not vulnerable. it just made the two of them vulnerable... together 😰

pv stumbles into the pool, and chantilly's frantic and quick to try and grab him! but something seems to drag them in as well. tragically.

pv and chantilly, however, are sadly separated. why would sm give either of them the comfort of knowing what's happening to the other? silly silly cookies. no, he's not going to let them suffer together! not yet! that ruins the fun.

blah blah blah sm is violently psychologically torturing pv but then... then he says something that quite possibly drives pv to the edge of his breaking point.

"i'm going to break your cute little student, their mind and their spirit, while you're here, unable to do any~thing about it! how does that sound?"

"leave chantilly out of—"

"oh, but i couldn't possibly! not when you walked suuuuuch a powerful mage, whose potential you're absolutely squandering, right into my hands. that just won't do!"

yikes.

chantilly ultimately gets away from him (...or did he allow them to leave?), stumbling tired and scared, and runs into their friends! thankfully!

they're a little freaked out though bc there's jam everywhere... that's supposed to be. uh. on the inside... 😰😰😰😰

blah blah blah. canon boss battle yippee!

the truthless recluse greets them with much concern over their state, and despite their friends discouraging it, they're at his side easily. naturally. it takes no coaxing from him. it literally only takes a concerned glance and they're DONE FOR. the familiarity is cold, and it isn't... the same, but it's comforting and they're just exhausted.

much to the horror and distress of their companions.

but unfortunately, sm did pull through on his words (did not lie that time, sadly), and their spirit is too broken to care about anything other than their dad.

ok. hello. chat i'm operating under the assumption that the end of ch. 7 did actually happen, and shadow milk is not just a liar (even though he is... 😒🙄), rn

chantilly has been immensely reliant (and earlier in their relationship? lowkey kind of codependent, but they grew in confidence after being under his wing for some time and that codependency slowly dissipates) on pv and his guidance. the two of them grow to be super close, i think.

i can see this particular beast yeast arc going one of two ways.

one: the codependency emerges again at the prospect of the entire situation, and chantilly just kind of follows the truthless recluse like a lost lamb (he would let them 🤷‍♀️ that's still his apprentice, his child, his everything; imo, nothing about their relationship itself inherently changes. the dynamic just Shifts A Little To The Left). honestly results in a lot of crying. just this sick feeling of hopelessness and fear because if their mentor slash father of all people can just???? give up??????? what the FUCK are they supposed to do. bro?

two: chantilly does not follow him, and opts to take up arms against him, something tr very much admires and respects. still ends in a fuck ton of tears and gingerbrave and co have to comfort them before they can move on, leave sm's territory, and figure out what the hell to do now. just this very, very overwhelming feeling of guilt and betrayal and they feel like they've done wrong but they know they've done right by everyone and they feel like they've been abandoned and betrayed and. Sobs.

pick your favorite flavor of angst 👍👍

[ghostlight-express]

Copy of a thread I typed out on my private twitter (before making this sideblog).

Brief ns4t mention, and a little bit of talking about alcohol. It's also kinda long so I'm sticking it under a read more.

Thought about drawing Rena & Ingo

And even though I was initially like "I ship Sol with both Ingo & Emmet" I have a slight bias toward Emmet (which is really weird bc I usually go for stoic characters? PLUS Ingo has the darker color palette AND a ghost type pokemon but no my brain went for smiley white electric bug man) and have been kinda shipping Sol more with him

So then I thought "ok so Sol with Emmet and Rena with Ingo"

But then

Big Brain Time

Polycule. Rena & Sol with each other AND each of the twins.

Like, it's primarily Rena/Ingo & Sol/Emmet but the twins are happy to share with each other. Rena is not the least bit possessive & thinks Sol is pretty cute anyway. Sol initially finds Rena to be very intimidating but then it becomes an "oh no she's hot" situation.

Rena is very no-nonsense, especially at work, so when she catches Emmet wanting to uh, fool around, she gives him a warning. He may be her superior but she's not afraid of him. After work, she may take him down a peg (wink wonk).

When Rena finds out that Sol works at the musical theatre she visits more often. Sometimes when she & Ingo are on a date they'll stop by for a show & they both bring flowers for Sol & she gets so embarrassed. Every time they do this & Emmet finds out he gets pouty bc Sol was his girlfriend first & they're bring her flowers without him!!

Rena takes night shifts sometimes. It gets really slow at night so Rena may sing to help pass the time (until she notices someone nearby). If Sol happens to get stuck on laundry duty on the same night, she'll stop by the station to surprise Rena. She hears singing in the halls of the station & at first thinks it's just her imagination but no, that's definitely a human singing. When she walks up to the desk Rena is at she startles her & sees Rena embarrassed for the first time. Sol apologizes profusely & Rena asks that she keep it a secret (even though Sol reassures her that her singing is beautiful & nothing to be embarrassed about). Sol ends up looking up the song & setting it as her ringtone for Rena.

At some point after they're all living together Sol suggests having their own little karaoke party at home & before Rena can protest the boy are on board for it & making plans. She doesn't know that they've heard her sing as well (Emmet is a light sleeper & has woken up to hearing her sing in the shower late at night or early in the morning, he even recorded it one time for Ingo to hear. When he tried to show Sol she told him about how shy Rena is about it & not to talk about it at all).

The night comes & Rena initially insists on not singing & just letting the others take turns, but after a drink or two they're able to convince her (she's a lightweight) to do a group song with them, then a duet, then they manage to get a solo out of her before everyone is too tired & drunk to continue. Luckily they prepared by bringing all the pillows & blankets out into the living room so they can all just collapse into a cuddle pile together lol

The next morning Rena has a hangover from hell (Sol is perfectly fine, she can handle her liquor surprisingly well for someone so small, plus she drank a lot of water in between drinks & popped from aspirin first thing in the morning, the twins have headaches but Emmet's is worse than Ingo's) and when she remembers the events of the previous night she is so embarrassed she locks herself in one of the bedrooms until the others convince her to let them bring her some food/water. Emmet confesses that he's already heard her sing & to having recorded it to show Ingo. They all fawn over how great at singing she is, even when thoroughly drunk & apologize for the underhanded tactic. She warns that she WILL get revenge on each of them for it. Part of her is relieved though that it's no longer a secret (at least to her partners). She starts singing more at home, like while cooking or cleaning. If some is having a hard time falling asleep she'll sing a lullaby to them.

[franeridart]

I'm so glad Kirishima is getting so much spotlight, he really deserves it!!!! And it looks like hes gonna get more, since hes in the main group along with Deku, Uraraka and Tsuyu. I;m so hyped!!!

Honestly!!!!!!!!!!! That’s one interesting group tbh, Kirishima and Tsuyu’s interactions are always incredibly adorable to watch and seeing Kirishima interact for so long with pure and good people is gonna be hard on my heart (I mean, you know I’m 100% a bakusquad fan but they’re all at least in part assholes and Kiri fits with them just right, he can be just like Sero and Kaminari and I love it, but then his interactions with Amajiki have been so pure can you imagine an arc filled with that I’m already crying)

I just hope my other faves won’t completely disappear through this arc haha sigh

Anon said: So which Kacchan quote do you like best "Die your bacteria fucks, dieee!" or "BRING YOUR DAMN TRASH TO ME"?

LMAO SORRY ANON BUT MY FAVE GOTTA BE

WHAT A GODDAMN DISASTER THIS BOY IS

Anon said:there's a terushima week. thought i might tell you bc i miss you drawing him ;3; might wanna join? :3

Anon said:Terushima week is this next week! (@terushimaweek) Might we maaaybe see some cute lil bokuroterus sometime soon? ;)

As I’ve already said, sadly I’ve found out about this too late to be part of it - I’m not completely ruling out the possibility of doodling something one of the days, but I didn’t have the time to plan anything and I’m still in the middle of working things through with the bakushima week and bakugou’s birthday so I don’t know - they 19th is Teru’s birthday so maybe I’ll draw something for it, but it’s also a super busy day for me so it really depends on how soon I’ll be able to finish everything else I’m working on orz I’m sorry guys I seriously had no clue about this till, like, five days ago o

Anon said: What are your thoughts on KiriDeku b/c I'm not even that into it but as soon as I saw art I was like "OMFG I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING SO PURE CHOULD EVER EXIST!!!" My following thought was that'd you may have something interesting to say (as you always do, I luv it), so here I am 😁 Also, I love the blog, your amazing art, and you!! I truly appreciate all you do ❤️❤️

Awwww thank you!!! And I dunno, as things are now my opinion on a possible ship might change soon enough because it looks like their interactions amount is about to skyrocket, so anything I say right now is just a temporary answer? But generally I find their friendship incredibly adorable, though as of now I don’t think I can see anything romantic between the two... mostly because even though I’ve seen them being friendly and supportive of each other I don’t think I’ve ever seen them actually connect over anything that wasn’t Bakugou?? Being friendly and supportive is just how they both are with everyone, before I can say I ship them I’m gonna need something more singular to their relationship

I might be totally biased here considering where my main shipping lies, though haha

Anon said:HOSHIHINA!!!! YESSSSS!!!! PLEASE!!!!!! I think this is like.... my new OTP or well... a new OTP that I will gratefully put on the shelf next to all my other children in love!! oh yeah and THANK YOU for introducing me to both BNHA and d grey man! I'M IN LOVE!!! oH and YOUR ART IS AMAZING!!! KEEP IT UP!! I WILL GRATEFULLY SWALLOW UP ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING YOU POST IT'S AMAZING!!! YOUR OC'S TOO!!! Have a nice day!!

So much!!! HYPE in this ask!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!! Oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for EVERYTHING anon I hope you’ll have the best day!!!!!! *O* And I’m SUPER GLAD you gave dgm and bnha a try!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Aww the kiss. I know you posted it the other day, but it wouldn't load on my tablet. They're so cute, those two. 💜✌

*lays down forever* they are aren’t they those pure idiots !!!!

Anon said:I'm laughing so hard. Literally everyone that read the new chapter was like expectation vs reality. I love my idiots. Also yas to HoshiHina

HoshiHina is an A+ ship with A+ potential and I think I’m being slowly but surely swallowed by it - then again, what Hinata ship don’t I ship even ??? the mysteries

Anon said:To answer you question on what cheese sticks are, they're this disgusting processed cheese stick, also known as string cheese, and it's p much what it is, cheese in the form of a small stick that you can pull apart into strings and eat like that! (as you may have noticed, I'm not a fan hah) ((I don't know if you know the artist mookie, but she made a comic about bokuto eating a cheesestick whole before)

Anon said: cheese sticks = string cheese? D: they are delicious i promise

I’m seeing conflicting reports here (lol) but yes this might be a problem for me only because as I said I’m Italian but what I’m failing to see here is what kind of cheese are these things supposed to be ???

Anon said:Are you into Kuroken?

Only as very good friends, I don’t ship it romantically at all

Anon said:I love your bakushimas, SO SO SO MUCH. God, and with the latest chapter, I just can't wait for more interactions with them. God, seeing as I think Kirishima was filmed by the people that were there, I want to see Bakugou's reaction to his new move.

This took me long enough to answer that we now know Baku’s reaction was total and utter envy at how popular Kiri is LMAO - but yeah I still think Baku already knew about Kiri’s new move! After all he most probably came up with it as they trained for the license exam and I can’t believe he wouldn’t test it against Bakugou to make sure he actually turns unbreakable? Also proud-of-himself Kiri yelling at the squad to check out his new move is too much of a good image I can’t let that one go hahaha

Anon said:I started following you for Haikyuu but started boku no hero academia in order to understand what your other drawings were so I thank you (and blame you) for getting me hooked on another anime and manga :)

I’m!!!!!! HAPPY you ended up liking it???!!!! *O*

Anon said:I just wanted to tell you that you're my most fave artist here in tumblr istg i go to your page everyday just to go back at the fanart you drew if you didn't have any new, but when u have, my heart just swells and i fuss over it. God bless you because you opened my eyes for bakushimanari when i was just kiribaku back then.. God i love denki sfm right now bc of you, im sad bkk week is over though ahh and laven. Jfc i love your laven pls draw them more if u can 😘 i hope you'll have a great day!!

Don’t!!!! worry anon Laven has been my #1 otp since I was sixteen at this point it’s just not gonna leave me ever, I’ll definitely draw more of it in the future! And thank you??? so much?????? Oh man!!!!!

Anon said:Everyone in class 1-A: *trains as if they're gonna be in a battle royal and need to (literally) slaughter the competition* Competition: OBSTACLE RACE YAY

Well, the anime did change the training scenes a lot lol but LMAO anon they’re highschoolers what were you expecting hahahahaha it’s already savage enough as it is, I assure you lol

Anon said:Hi hello yes are you up for some angsty stuff because my brain turns even the sweetest moment to that, like what if kaminari saw bakushima's first kiss and he becomes so sad b/c he crushes on them both but he pretends not to and starts teasing 'em like a true bro while hiding his feelings and idk it's only if you want but yeah, how's your day been?

..........I would lie if I said I didn’t think about this while drawing that kiss R I P my multishipper heart is gonna kill me BUT IT’S OKAY I’m not one for unhappy endings so consider this - Denki sees them kiss, since he’s best bro and both Kirishima and Bakugou tend to wear their hearts on their sleeves he already knew this was gonna happen so he’s like, sad but resigned it hurts and he wishes he didn’t have to see it but he loves them both so much that he can’t help but being happy for how happy they are at the same time too (sure, being part of that happiness would be a dream coming true, but he’s used to never coming first he can deal with this hahahahaha r i p)

Meanwhile a bit after the kiss once Kiri is a hundred per cent sure Bakugou isn’t going to explode his head off if he mentions his very huge crush on Kaminari he does and Bakugou’s like, shit, it’s not like he’d mind it because Kaminari is, well, he’s Kaminari and Bakugou isn’t sure why but he’s comfortable to be around and easy to talk to and he’s stupidly pretty and like, yeah, okay, he might be into him too, maybe, he isn’t admitting anything here (not like he needs to, as stated already he’s pretty easy to read), but Kaminari’s also the no homo type of het so it’s not like they can do much about this threeway crush or whatever, and Kirishima’s like sure, I know, I just wanted to be open about this to avoid trouble, which is very sensible and will cut us on a lot of miscommunication angst this is getting out of hand let’s skip ahead I always forget how much fun I have writing this kind of bullshit

For however much Kaminari swore he could deal with it and how much he’s actually managing to deal with it he’s also the same brand of open book Baku and Kiri are and while it was easy to act like friends with no romantic feelings when everyone was doing the same, trying to hide from Bakugou and Kirishima while they’re openly in a relationship turns out to be more or less impossible, mostly because he can’t seem to avoid the longing stares and sad smiles and the I have to go I just remembered I have a thing to do bye’s when it becomes too much, and Kirishima might not be the brightest but he’s perfectly in tune with everyone’s feelings and Bakugou might stomp on people’s feelings more often than not but he is the brightest which means they notice and they’re like god fucking damn it - Bakugou in nature isn’t one to talk about problems until they burst out in fits of anger, but thank god he’s got Kirishima right there and they might not be 100% sure they got the reason for Kaminari’s weirdness right but they’re exasperated and they at least want their friend to stop being weird and avoiding them, they miss him (and Kaminari seriously misses them too he feels so stupid for how big of a deal he’s turning this into) SO they corner him and talk it out cause I’m a slut for open and honest communication and Kaminari straight out starts crying from happiness and relief before they’re even done talking and Kirishima starts crying right after him because sympathetic crier supreme and Bakugou’s like you know what I changed my mind fuck both of you emotional disasters I’m out

(spoiler he isn’t really)

[hobjoon]

Are you going to announce who won??? (I'm curious to see what they wrote)

I don’t usually announce my giveaway winners but sure, I’ll list them down here. Everything that they wrote were all very simple but I relate to them. It’s simple but very touching, imo :’)

@hoseokskitten#hobiforreal#oh wow okay why I love Hobi so much#Of course there's the normal reasons: he's so bright and cheerful and happy all the time and he just wants to make everyone smile#But it's so much more than that it's hard to articulate into words#I love how passionate he is#Passions is such a beautiful thing... to love something so much that it burns in your veins and sets your soul alive#And it's so evident how passionate he is#passionate about dancing and about loving the other members and his family and his fans#and so passionate about growing and bettering himself and making himself the absolute best that he can be#and I love how empathetic he is#He really truly just wants to brighten everyone's lives and when someone he loves is hurting it hurts him so much#And I love how you can always tell what he's feeling because he can't keep his emotions off of his face he's so open#And to know that he suffers from anxiety as well and he fights through it and brightens so many people's lives in spite of the anxiety#it's so inspiring#he really does give me so much hope#When I first got into BTS the first thing I read about Hobi was that he chose his name because#'he wants to be a source of light and hope for his fans'#and I really connected with that immediately I had an immediate connection with him#Because that's what I want to be for people I want to make everyone happy I want to be a safe space for people#So I connected with him immediately and the more I've learned about him the more I see myself in him#and he really just inspires me to be a better a person#he gives me hope for my own future and he inspires me to be the best person that I can be and to reach out to people who are hurting#and like /especially/ with the anxiety I've been fighting anxiety for years and knowing that he has too just makes me love him even more#and it just gives me that much more hope because he's actively showing me that it can be done#he's doing it I can do it too#he's fighting his own demons and he's still out there bettering himself and being such a bright ray of light and hope for people#he really is my hope#my light and my love

@hobgi#first of all bless u val ur so sweet for doing this!!!#okay for the reasons why i love hobi (lets see if theres a tag limit omg)#he's so beautiful and stunning and pretty and hot and sexy like he's so gorgeous#the way his cheeks rise when he smiles and the way he claps his hands while he laughs#the fact that people even say that he looks better in person too??? the thought makes me dizzy like his beauty radiates sm off of pics#and vids of him...like i cant imagine seeing him in real life i would probably faint#and ofc i cant forget how talented he is#not just his amazing dancing but EVERYTHING he does#his rapping and his vocals#like he didnt have much experience in rapping before bts and now???#he has some of the most iconic bts rap verses???#like remember that one time a fan told him that he was her fave rapper and he was so touched by it????? im really happy he got to hear that#like me too sis#he's my role model#i really admire a lot of things about him#i love his energy and positivity#and how he's able to be anyone's friend and just attract ppl#he has this charisma that i really admire and i want to be that person too??#to be so full of life and being able to draw any person to you??? like he IS That Person#he loves bts so much and he takes care of everyone and makes them happy#and how he pushes himself so hard and never stops#he'll work so hard that his feet start to bleed#he dedicates sm of himself into perfecting everything he does for bts#and honestly none of us deserves him??? and it makes me so sad that ppl would bash on him bc#AND ONE OF THE BIGGEST REASONS WHY I LOVE HIM IS THAT#HE!! MADE!! A!! SONG!! ABT!! HIS!! MOM!!#like he's in his twenties he coulve wrote abt anything#he's really such a good hearted person who is full of energy and dedication and love#i lov him sm :(( and im so proud of him ;-;

@hobis-moving-castle#i love him because he always seems to put others before himself#because he works so hard to not only perfect the choreo for himself but helps his members too#because he gets all shy and blushes when someone compliments him#because he worked so hard to learn how to rap even though he felt so out of place so he could be a good rapper for his team#because even though they have gained so much success he always mentions how he wants to be even better for us#because all he ever wanted was to be able to make his parents proud#because of the way his little ears stick out when he  wears hats#because of how his smile is as almost as bright as his personality#because although his personality may seem bright there are times where he is struggling himself but he never fails to put on his dazzling sm#ile for others in order to be there hope#because he is sugas battery that helps him gain energy#because i he loves to collect cute little figurines that are almost as cute as himself#because of the adorable mole on his lip#because of the way his dimples show when he eats food#because his laughter is so contagious you cant help but smile#because he is an amazing dancer rapper and singer yet he still remains so humble#because of his passion and deidcation his applies to everything that he does#because of that booty tho#because even though he sings infront of thousands of people hes still gets scared easily#because every comeback he reveals even more of his talents and never fails to amaze me#because of the way he pouts when he is unhappy about somethin#because of his relationship with the other memers and loving and attentive he is to their needs#because hes loud and cheery and all the people around him never seem unhappy#because of the boy meets evil intro performance#hell every performance ever he gives his 110% and i cant begin to express how much i admire and appreciate him#he deserves the world honestly

@sunnyhoseoks#i love hoseok because i feel such genuine feelings of pride and adoration for him#he's worked so damn hard to get where he is#he's so under-appreciated sometimes but he continues pursuing his dream#he has this determination and fire that comes out in him when he's on stage or even just practicing#that boy belongs on that stage#its his passion and it shows in his bright and fiery personality on stage#it never fails to take my breath away#i believe that that boy can do anything and everything#and even though he'll never know who i am#i will do whatever i can to give him my full support#because i believe he has something special within him#and his constant brightness?#truly admirable#he always puts in 200% into whatever he does#and i can imagine that would get exhausting#because he's human after all#and everyone has setbacks#but he doesn't let it get in his way#he truly fights to constantly emit positive energy#all i want is for him to be truly and purely happy in his life#and to be able to live with confidence in all that he does#whether that be in bts or dancing or whatever#if it makes him happy and he's healthy while doing it then i will be behind him#hobiforreal#im sorry i kinda ranted but i feel very passionate about hobi

[roman-sing-despacito]

Part 2! I'm Back With More! Okay so,

Patton gets a new follower and the username is sleepdeprived-artist and it takes a second but he remembers him as the artist who drew an incredibly cute picture of all of Thomas' sides.

And as the blog who he literally reblogged all of his art

Patton absolutely loves all 739 of his followers.

He has no idea why they like his blog so much

Maybe it was bc they supported his dark strange son too???

Anyway Patton loves to talk to his followers so he most definitely sends a message to sleepdeprived-artist

virgils-numberone-fan: Hello! I just wanted to stop by and say thanks for the follow!

virgils-numberone-fan: btw your art is SO PRETTY

virgils-numberone-fan: I LOVE IT

sleepdeprived-artist: oh uh thanks

sleepdeprived-artist: and no problem

virgils-numberone-fan: how do you draw so well??? Like I honestly can only draw stick figures! But its okay

sleepdeprived-artist: um Idk I don't really think its that good

virgils-numberone-fan: *GASP* kiddo your work is fabulous!!!! Don't talk bad about yourself! Or I will physical fight you!

virgils-numberone-fan: (ง •̀_•́)ง

Okay, Virgil thought, that was weirdly familiar.

Only because Patton usually said those exact words to him when he said something self-deprecating...

But then again, Thomas was on YouTube. All of the famders knew Patton said that. In fact it was a phrase they all seemed to pick up on.

Virgil was coming to a conclusion. But in order to be sure, he would have to collect more data,(as Logan would say)

And data he would collect.

Sanders Sides Shower Thoughts

Lol the most random things I come up with when I don’t try.

Okay so if Patton had a Tumblr, you can’t tell me he wouldn’t be Virgils #1 fan in the famdom.

He would literally claim the title of number one supporter of Anxiety. I can just see his bio.

“I love all you famders you are all precious! He/him pronouns. Number One Supporter of Virgil Anxiety Sanders. If you don’t support him-thats okay! But on a completely unrelated note where do you live? I just wanna talk.”

He reblogs everything that has Virge fluff

He has the tag “virgil angst” blocked bc our boyo can not handle that.

Patton would totally ​reblog and like all fanart of the sides and leave a super long comment

Some of which consistent of:

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

IASGSHKALASJ YES LOGAN AS A CAT IS PURR-FECT!

Me Patton in a dress! YESH! And is that Roman in a cocktail dress??? Because he SO Would!

Look at my bby Boi! Virge is looking great in a cat onesie!

💖💕❤️💖❤️❤️yes💕❤️💖❤️💕❤️💕

HOW DO YOU ART SO WELL!?

Virgil has a Tumblr too

One day he comes across this blog that reblogged one of his drawings of the sides.

He’s honestly shocked at seeing this blog start liking and reblogging all of his art on this side blog he has.

Especially since every comment is so sweet and the username is virgils-numberone-fan

Like what???

He does some snooping on this account and is in pure S H O C K at all the,

“virgil deserves all the love”

“anxiety is a misunderstood angel, don’t hate on him”

“If you dont like him: fite me ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ ”

“me, when I see Virgil: 😍”

Part of him is touched

And the other is a teensy weensy bit creeped out at how accurate this persons headcannons are…and why does virgils-numbeone-fan kind of remind him of someone…

~I may do more later I dunno :)~