#she burned down a whole skate rink just because

[virtualsuitmoon]

i think we should talk more about what the fuck is up with "main villains of argentine kids-oriented telenovelas that are like a-jjba-protagonist-and-a-half" but maybe that is just me

they probably have a lot more in common but i was tired... and this basically came up to me yesterday in a dream, so yeah.

[nothing0fnothing]

My mums favorite hobby when I was very young was to instill an irrational fear inside me for days or weeks before exposing me to whatever she'd taught me to be afraid of all at once, in public, so she could bask in the chaos and play the long suffering, saintly mother.

One time, she did this to me with ice skating.

My mother one day, decided to start telling me "real" stories from her childhood about the dangers of ice skating; broken bones from failed tricks, frozen rug burns from being dragged across the ice, shards of ice stabbing eyes and blinding people, kids falling down and having their fingers sliced off as someone skated over them, people getting tangled up in the ice cleaner. Just some real fantastical Final Destination shit. I was nine and she was my mother so I believed these absolutely insane stories of hers, and had nightmares about horrific ice skating accidents for days. She would tell these stories casually, on the drive to school or while she made dinner, every few days for a few weeks. Always when I was alone. I'd listen intently and go wide eyed and ask questions she would gleefully respond with the most gorry and horrifying answers to. So in few weeks, guess what I was absolutely terrified of.. and guess where she surprised me with a super fun day out of?

She had planned with her friends to get us kids all together and all go ice skating. Obviously to everyone else, this sounded perfect. Kids love ice skating, we were kids, who would have a problem with that?

I begged my mum to please say I didn't have to go on the ice. Couldn't I just stay in the cafe with the grown ups and watch the other kids have fun? "No. We've paid all this money for you to skate so have fun like the normal kids and skate."

"Please" I begged. "I promise I'll be quiet and I won't listen to your conversation and I won't ask for tea or cola. Just don't make me go on the ice"

Sometimes she would have allowed it. She'd have sat across from me and spat the occasional hurtful comment my way to ensure we could both look a sorry sight and she could bask in the image that it was hard to be my mother. Not today though. Today, had more drama potential and my mum was milking it. Responding in cruel, unfeeling short responses to get me as upset as possible so the other grown ups would look over and see the small scene I was creating.

She dragged me to a bench, forced me into some skates a size too small, tight laced them painfully around my feet and practically shoved me into the rink.

I tried for a while. I gripped the side and tried to feel confident. And then I cried and hyperventilated on the ice until one of my mothers friends came and collected me.

He was a sweet man with two daughter's around my age who he adored. He reassuringly held my hand while I gripped the side of the rink with the other and at my pace, guided me off the ice. Once we were on solid ground he gave me a tissue to wipe my tears, gently helped me to take my skates off and sat me down with his wife while he bought me a cup of tea. I put four sugar cubes into it and ate three more. They asked me about my special interests and told me all about their gardening plans. Within minutes I was smiling and chatting happily. It meant a lot to me. I knew grown ups take their kids to these places to have some peace away from the kids, yet they'd gone out of their way to make me feel like they were friends.

My parents had actually told him to leave me on the ice. They told him I was throwing a tantrum because I wanted to go to the cinema instead, and in spite I was trying to ruin everyone elses fun. They said I was difficult and selfish and manipulative, and everything always had to go my way, that I would ruin the whole day for everyone if they indulged me, and to pay attention to me was to give me what I wanted. They painted me out to be some kind of tiny tyrant, effortlessly manipulating grown adults to my childish whims.

Some of the other adults clearly believed it. I could feel it in the nasty glances and sharp tones they took with me. They would ask me why I was crying and roll their eyes when I honestly answered that I was scared. I could see in the way they reacted to me, they were wondering what kind of kid was that scared of ice? Why would her mother lie?

I know why she did it. She liked to see me afraid and distressed yes, but she loved the sympathy even more. How sad for her, trapped in a home with a petulant bitch like me, willing to turn on the waterworks at an ice rink to ruin everyone's good day. How hard must it be for her, to be the mother of a nine year old with the manipulation skills of someone in their thirties. There was no sympathy left for me, she took it all.

Except on that day, when a very kind man decided to not believe her, and instead saw little me crying on the ice for what I was, a sad little girl who deserved a friend.

[kitkatt0430]

In This House We Are Home?

Also got asked about this one from @sophiainspace

This one is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic, set during S6. The Buffy/Spike ship never happens here, but she is kind of letting him be a supportive friend. Though that is more background to the main plot of the fic.

It's a slow burn fix fic that is intended to be Anya/Buffy (though that's going very slowly indeed) and the fic picks up at the time of Willow and Tara's break up. Buffy asks Willow if she intends to start contributing to the household finances and Willow does not take the question well at all... and moves out instead of Tara.

And from there, Buffy does things like try to reconnect to things she used to love but hadn't done in a long time even before dying - like ice skating - and using that as a starting point for bonding with Dawn. Which helps Dawn's mental health not hit the point where she deals with her anxiety via kleptomania the way she did in canon.

Anya's wedding falls apart and Buffy brings her home while sending Willow to take care of Xander. And Anya winds up moving into the Summers home while they reshuffle the rooms around a bit.

And though things with Willow and Xander outside the house isn't going well - the failed wedding brings back Buffy's feelings about how Xander treated her when Riley left and it turns out she's got more resentment there than she'd realized - in the house the four ladies have really built up this feeling of home together that is doing wonders for Buffy feeling good about being alive again.

The whole thing is really just about Buffy taking small steps out of her post-death depression and learning how to handle the people she loves letting her down. The Trio are still there in the background as baddies but they're less important than Buffy's feelings of self re-discovery going on.

Xander winds up stuck in the middle of the mostly one-sided Willow feud.  He suggests Buffy apologizes exactly once and, after Buffy (mostly) calmly points out all she did was ask if Willow was going to contribute any money towards keeping them in the house and fed, he backs off.  So he spends time with Willow and time with Buffy but never both at once.  And, well, Anya mostly spends time with Buffy, not Willow, even when Xander isn't around.  Which is probably how Buffy wound up being asked to be the Maid of Honor at the upcoming wedding.  Where Willow is supposed to be Xander's Best Man.  Except it's more like Best Attendant because Anya would have thrown a fit at calling Willow "Best Woman" at her own wedding and Xander thought it was too girly for him to have a "Maid of Honor" when he's the groom. Honestly, Buffy's glad her main job is running the bachelorette party and that Halfrek shows up to help with that because Buffy's idea of a fun party is renting out an ice skating rink - which she does realize is probably not going to be Anya's idea of a good time.  Though it does at least remind Buffy that she used to love ice skating and, somehow, she manages to find the time to start taking Dawn skating on most weekends which does wonders for their relationship.

While a lot of the fic has Buffy quietly at odds with Willow and Xander over various things, I do intend for the three of them to start mending bridges by the end. Nothings' fixed, but Buffy's struggle over deciding whether she wants to stay friends with them ends with her deciding they're worth trying again with and Willow and Xander deciding to take responsibility for their screw ups. Of course how awkward things with Xander will be depend on whether I can get Anya and Buffy to finally kiss or not before the fic ends.

[njpuckbunny]

Crazy Love

Jack Hughes x gn!reader

Summary: You and Jack have been enemies for as long as you have known, why is he acting different now?

Warnings: enemies to lovers; readers friends are specified as girls; cole caufield being the enemy (i’m sorry i love him); and a cliff hanger 😋

Tossing and turning, you wait for your alarm to go off, knowing it will be anytime soon. Unfortunately, it was halted by a phone call from your best friend, asking you to bring her to school.. again. Today was one of the most important days and you couldn’t have it ruined by one of your friends' lack of planning. To your surprise, your alarm wouldn’t have gone off anytime soon, leaving you an extra half an hour to get ready.

You usually didn’t take showers in the morning, but today was so nerve wracking that you needed to burn off the nerves. By the time you got out of the shower, you checked the time, reading 6:05. Just about a second later a notification appeared at the top of your phone. SKATE DAY !!! You have been waiting for this dance since midsummers ended, the second most important day of your life.

After you finished getting ready, you grabbed your skates and made your way to your best friend's house. You pulled out of your driveway, but were halted as you heard a honk from another car and loud laughing following it. The Hughes brothers; Jack, Luke, and Quinn. You rolled your eyes and continued down the street and out of the neighborhood to your friend's house. You two opted to go to dunkin, wasting some time you would’ve spent sitting in homeroom.

Your schedule this year was honestly so messed up, you had barely any classes with your best friend. As you made your way to your first class, you spotted one of the Hughes brothers walking into the same class. Obviously you knew you had half your schedule with him, but something about him always caught your eye. Technically, you were “enemies” with him because you skated at the same rink.

The rest of the day was almost perfect, until lunch. Somehow, Jack really played into your day today. You were in the line to grab a water and he came up behind you, letting you overhear his conversation with Trevor.

“Man I really hope she shows,” he mumbled, “giving her my jersey for the theme is my top priority ”

fuck. was there a theme? your whole planned outfit was ruined.

As you turned around to grab a water from the cooler, you met eyes with him. He snarkily chided, “Bet you don’t have a jersey for tonight, do ya?”

You were so pissed you just rolled your eyes and walked away. He looked so proud of himself you just wished you could kiss smack that smirk off of his face. You weren’t lying when you said that you have had a secret crush on him since middle school. You were shaken back into reality when you heard Jack's voice.

“The weirdest thing just happened to me,” you started, trying to talk to your friends, but all of them were too busy trying to put together their own outfit, they just completely ignored you.

As the day came to an end, your best friend informed you again that you had to take her to your house to get ready. Honestly you didn’t mind letting her borrow your clothes, but if you were still working on a guy to give you his jersey? You were fucked.

You made sure to pick up all the necessities on the way home: A little liquid courage (shh), some energy drinks, some snacks, and whatever else was needed to calm ur nerves. When you walked through the door you noticed that your mom wasn't home, leaving you to do whatever you wanted.

You were so excited words couldn’t describe what you were feeling. You walked up to your room with your friend, letting her take a shower while you waited on your bed, until you heard your phone buzz.

Cole ;) - Go to ur window

You- Bruh when did u put a wink next to ur own name

Cole ;)- 🤷‍♀️

You- die.

Cole ;)- cmon pleaseee

You- ugh fine.

You pulled up your blinds, unlocked your window, and pulled it up, revealing a certain hockey boy waiting for you outside.

“Come down pleaseee,” he whined, half whispering for absolutely no reason.

You rolled your eyes and shut your window, running downstairs as fast as your legs could carry you. You stood in front of your door, patting down your pants and shirt, not even realizing he was doing the same thing on the other side. You opened your door, awaited by Cole himself, holding his jersey in a “neatly” folded square.

“I didn’t ask for this“ you started, just to get a rise out of him, “—-but yet here you are, with your jersey”

“I knew you would want it,” he cleared his throat, “so I didn't need a text.”

“Whatever Cole,” you chuckled, “you gonna pick me up too?”

“Maybe,” he winked, and turned on his heel, “you never know.”

You closed the door and made your way back up to your room. You couldn’t lie and say that you were happy that Cole gave you his jersey, cause you were… weren't you? Maybe if Jack would’ve given you his. Did you seriously just think of that???? Jack Hughes giving you his jersey? Your sworn enemy? Fuck no.

As your friend came out of the shower, her face screwed into a confused look, staring at your jersey.

“Don’t even ask,” you stated, clearly annoyed with her questionable face.

“I was just gonna ask why you didn’t ask Jack for his,” she retorted, “he’s totally in love with you or whatever.”

You snorted, “Jack? Hughes? The day he talks to me nicely I will call the doctor and check him for a brain tumor.” She rolled her eyes and you felt heat rising to your cheeks, not letting her comments faze you. even though they were true.

“Well okay,” you broke the silence, “all ready?” You pulled the jersey over a sweatshirt and looked back over at her. She agreed to leave, so you made your way to your car. Coincidentally, the Hughes Brothers were too. You saw Jack glance over to you, back down to his phone, and his head shot up faster than you could say Shit. He had never looked more enraged, you swore you could see smoke coming out of his ears.

You saw him call over to one of his brothers and whisper in his ear. As soon as he pulled away, the younger boys head shot up and stared right at you, looking back at Jack with an open mouth as he nodded.

“You coming,” your friend yelled to you from the passenger seat.

“Oh yea,” you mumbled, “coming sorry…”

You made your way to the odr and saw some of the hockey boys gathered around the campfire tying their skates.

“y/n!,” you heard, immediately spotting Cole, “you made it.” You were quite confused knowing as Cole had previously barely talked to you in school, asking you for the homework here and there.

“uh,” you stared at him confused, “yea I did I guess…” His eyes moved past you and looked behind you. Curious, you turned around to see who or what he was looking at.

Jack Hughes. With a girl. And not any girl. Your ex-best friend. But… she wasn’t wearing his jersey, which was odd.

You sharply turned back round and walked through the powdery snow to the campfire to put on your skates. As you laced them up, your best friend walked back from the rental stand, run by Trev.

When you were done, it had become pretty dark since you arrived, so the firelight was the only light allowing vision. You stepped on the rink, careful not to interrupt any “games” that were taking place. Cole spotted you freely skating and spinning along the ice and motioned you to come over.

Calmly he asked, “Hey y/n wanna play a quick game before we head to timmies?” You shrugged and agreed, Cole letting you borrow an extra stick. You saw Jack step on the rink, coming back from whatever he was doing, looking even more angry than the last time you saw him.

The game went on as a usual one would until one of the boys on your team passed to you and you slipped past Jack, who was on the other team, scoring and winning the game for your team.

“Cheater,” you heard Jack mutter, but just as you were gonna chase him to the parking lot, Cole picked you up and began shaking you up and down.

You were so worried for Jack and running after him that you hadn’t even noticed that as you were running away from Cole’s grasp you tore off his jersey, leaving it on the rink.

You quickly untied your skates and slipped on your shoes, following Jack to the parking lot as fast as you could. “Jack,” you yelled after him, “what the hell is up with you.” He most clearly heard you, but chose to ignore you, leaving you to run up to his car and slip in the passenger seat without his knowledge. “Answer me,” you stated, clearly not amused.

“No,” he flatly said, “now get the fuck out of my car y/n. now.” He turned his head from the window and stared at you, sneaking the occasional peak at your lips and back to your eyes.

“You’re acting weird,” you muttered, “and weirder than you usually do towards me.”

He started again, clearly forgetting his last request, “why are you wearing Cole’s jersey?”

“What’s it to you,” you retorted, “he gave it to me and asked me to wear it tonight and saying no would be rude so I just naturally wore it? Why the hell do you care? It’s not like anyone else would’ve asked me anyway.”

“I would’ve y/n!,” he yelled back, '' I've been in love with you ever since I saw your face, you idiot. I thought today in line at lunch after you heard me talking just loud enough for you to hear you would’ve taken a hint. And then I saw Cole taking his jersey to your house. So I took your ex-best friend , who you know,” he trailed off, noticing you were looking at him now.

woah. that’s a lot to take in.

Confused, you asked, “So you don’t hate me and you’re in love with me??”

He looked down at his lap, slightly nervous to hear your response and nodded slowly.

JACK HUGHES WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU????

[cookiesupplier]

A Friend Down In Hell - Part Twelve

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology, FLUFF.

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Soooo I had to re-write MOST of this because my brain decided to mix up tenses.. so if anything seems fudged up... IT DOESN'T (I'm sorry lol)

To read from the beginning: A Friend Down In Hell Masterlist

And for those that missed Noah & Ellie's Story previously, all Hell-Verse stories will be included here: Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls @agravemisstake @sunsshinesunny @blackveilomens

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything

Folio stood outside the bar waiting for the others.. It was a familiar feeling, even if it was strangely a different kind of anxiousness tonight. It was less about trying to impress Ishtar tonight to get her to go out with him.. Tonight he just missed seeing her.. Tonight he was going to have to just be a normal patron.. He’d promised he wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t supposed to.. Anything he wouldn’t have done before.. While he waited for the guys, he thought back to yesterday with a smile.

It had been their third date, Ishtar took him roller skating at the roller rink, where he promptly fell on his ass so many times that it wasn’t funny.. It wasn’t! Thankfully, Ishtar was as patient a teacher, as she was a beautiful goddess. Folio had always wanted to go to the roller rink, but considering he’d never actually learned how to roller-skate, he’d always been super nervous about going. So even when the guys had thought it would be cool to go, and he’d agreed, when there was always a reason to change the plans for something else as a group.. He’d just gone with the group, and let the disappointment stand, barely. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Who was he to argue about it?

It had been at the end of their lunch date when Folio had said, that considering he had chosen their second date. Well, it had been their first official date, but they had both agreed to call breakfast their first day so they could skip their first date nerves! She should get to decide what they did for their next date.. Grinning wide.. That is.. If she was willing to go on another date with him. He didn’t want to be presumptuous. The soft sound of her laughter that escaped her, as she elbowed him was the cutest thing ever, of course she’d love to, she’d let him know by tonight what she’d decide, when and where.

Rollerskating. 

That was what she’d wanted him to do. She’d sent him a message letting him know what time to meet her at the Rollerskating rink the next night as it was her night off, if that was alright with him, of course?

Immediately, he’d agreed! What else was he going to do, be a complete imbecile?! 

If after he’d sent her that text message reply back agreeing, he’d grabbed a pillow off his sofa and shoved it in his face and screaming in a mixture of both excitement and dread.. She never had to know, right? 

He was going to make a fool of himself, and he knew it, he just knew it. He’d never been roller-skating in his life, and how was he going to have time to learn between now and tomorrow? He wasn’t.. That's what.

Jolly had smirked at him.. Noah had laughed at him.. Nicholas had gently tried to give him some pointers, and Ellie, bless her had stood with him in the middle of the office and tried to show him how to best move on his feet. Bending his knees, and even practising some of the tips Nicholas had given him in the group chat, right after Noah, the asshole, had laughed at him.. Ellie promised to make sure he paid for that.. Folio had made sure to give her a gigantic bear hug for that before he left after work to head home, wondering.. What did you even wear to a rollerskating date anyway?

Jeans, and a band-t in the end.. A call from Ellie had assured him that was fine, but that he should make sure to wear thick socks to support his ankles, at least, she thought so. Considering between Ellie and Nicholas, they’d been the most helpful today, he was willing to go with. Besides, when he wasn’t wearing sneakers and went with his biker boots, thick socks were a must, so, duh, it made perfect sense!

Why was he a mess, why, Ishtar was perfect, he just wanted to be perfect for her. 

He turned up on his bike to the roller rink to find Ishtar already waiting for him there, sitting at one of the tables int the area just inside the rink's reception. Smiling so bright as he saw her, she looked just as ravishing as when he met her in the diner.

They’d gotten their skates, they laughed, and he’d warned her, he had, that he’d never gone roller skating.. Even told her about how Ellie and Nicholas had given him some pointers, tried to help him learn at least a little to no avail, but she assured him she’d look after him..

So that was how he’d come to step out onto the rink all wobbly on his feet, well, roll out on those wheels. It was nothing like being on his bike, even when he was riding with training wheels as a kid..

Gliding out, one foot, and then another, his hands gripping Ishtar’s tightly, he had smiled so bright with her, happy that they were having this time together, enjoying something together. That he was actually getting to do something with her that he knew made her happy. The joy he’d seen in her eyes was the most beautiful thing, and he wanted to find ways to see it again, so many more times.

That was when he had felt his feet slipping out from under him. He’d gripped tightly then, grasping suddenly at her hands, his feet reeling in his skates trying to get purchase on the floor, but with wheels under his feet that had felt nearly impossible. Ishtar had called out to him, trying to tell him something, trying to help him, but he couldn’t make sense of it before he was landing hard, right on his ass.

Oh, he’d groaned as he looked up at her from the floor where he had landed. The delight that she was, Ishtar hadn’t laughed at him, but it was the way she was doing everything in her control not to that got him. The press of her lips together, they had been so tight together he had been able to see these tiny dimples in her cheeks, all from her effort not to laugh. Her mirth danced in her violet eyes, and he had just been able to tell the way his face had felt so warm that he had blushed up a storm.. But he hadn’t been able to help himself.. He had been the one that started laughing.. Not because he’d felt awkward.. But it had just been so hilarious. 

He’d fallen on his ass!

Even more, how cute it was that she had been trying so hard not to laugh at him.

When he’d barked out a laugh, she even shrieked out a laugh a little in turn, before clamping both her hands over her mouth to cover it at his look of surprise, which had only made him laugh harder!

In the end, they were both, in a complete hysterical mess of laughter and giggles as she tried to help him up to his feet. Slowly, so slowly, as much as he could, Folio had rolled his way to the side of the rink where he clung to, struggling to stay up. It had not helped one little bit that they kept falling back into fits of laughter along the way. Thankfully, Ishtar didn’t give up on him, not through the laughter even. He couldn’t help it, the constant bursts of laughter as she tried to help him skate after that. Not that Ishtar had really been any better either, giggling every time he would start laughing, and clinging to her as he clumsily tried to follow her around the rink while she glided so perfectly. She would just start with her giggles as soon as he chuckled, with each lurched movement.

Folio did get around the circuit of the rink completely at least once by the end of their date, though. Once! He was really proud of that. Admittedly it was with Ishtar’s help, not really a surprise with how bad he was, but he made it around without falling, or almost falling mind you. Folio just took that as a win, whether it was with or without help. One day may be would be able to go all the way around on his own, maybe. For now, Folio was not a man that was too proud to get help from her.

As they were leaving, that was when she suggested perhaps the guys and Ellie might want to come by the bar, she missed them hanging out.. And she hoped that they didn’t feel like they didn’t have to avoid the place now.. Folio said he’d asked them.. But admitted that sometimes he sort of dragged them to go to see her more.. His face flushing when he did..

Ishtar had smiled so brightly when he admitted that, reaching for his hand, telling him he should come back anyway, she missed seeing him, her nights were always better when he was there.. And oh, that had made him all kind of something tingly, promising to see if he could get them there tonight, if not, tomorrow, but he would get them there.. Something about the way he’d said it had made her giggle, and oh, how he loved hearing her laugh.. Even after hearing it so often in the rink, he would never, hear that never, tire of hearing that sound. 

He offered to give her a lift home on his bike, and considering she had walked, took him up on the offer, the only trick, her helmet.. But she had had that covered.. And he’d grinned as she summoned one of her own design.. With space for her horns and all. Damn, sometimes it sucked only being able to do illusion magic.. All the same, with her cute little helmet on, his gorgeous biker chic, wrapped around his back, holding onto him so tightly, fuck.. He’d had vivid dreams about this, and he was going to thinking about this even more now that it had happened. He took her home.

Like a perfect gentleman, he even walked her right up to her door and said goodnight.. And maybe not quite like a gentleman, the kiss goodbye before she went inside to get ready for work that night got a little… heated.

Fuck. Waiting for everyone outside the bar, he was trying not to think about how hard it was to walk away from Ishtar at her door yesterday once he’d kissed her like that.. The first time he’d kissed her.. Their first kiss, and it was like it was seared into his memory. Part of him was a complete fucking degenerate considering it was their first kiss, she might be thinking it was all sweet.. And he’d gone home and needed a cold fucking shower and his right hand..

And then another shower less than an hour later when he thought about her riding on the motorcycle with him again.

Fuck fuck fuck.

They’d had such a sweet and innocent date. 

He was not a sweet and innocent guy, not all the time anyway.

Folio loved having fun, he loved her smile, and the way her eyes shone in the sun. He loved the way she giggled over the smallest little thing when they were alone.. But at the same time.. He also appreciated that gorgeous woman’s ravishing beauty and she deserved to be worshipped like the goddess she was.. None of those assholes at the bar drooling over her, leering and gawking at her.. Flirting with her trying to get the fancy drinks when the assholes didn’t even have to pay so what was even the point? 

Oh, no.. If he went in there, and he saw some guys flirting with Ishtar while she worked..

He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, he could get her in trouble.. He never wanted to get her in trouble, if she got fired because of him he’d never forgive himself. Nope, he was just going to have to figure out how to keep himself from doing something monumentally stupid.. 

Sighing, that was when he saw Jolly walking over with Nicholas not far behind.. Not surprised at all, Ellie and Noah were going to be the last to get here, three guesses why they were late again. He blamed Noah.. but..

“Dudes.. I think I’m going to need some help tonight.”

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[charis23]

Wolfstar Fics:

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dream a little dream of me

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here we are, again

Rated: E. Words: 61k. By: dykesiriusblack

James and Regulus are getting married. Sirius and Remus haven't seen each other in six years.

(If you love sexual tension, this is the fic for you)

saccharine

Rated: T. Words: 26k. By: moonymoment

Remus moves into a new apartment. There is a ghost living in his fridge who insults his ties and tells him when he has missed calls and leaves out his favourite mug on a morning, and he learns to be very, very okay with it.

New Prospects

Rated: Words: 4k. By: moonymoment

It's Remus' seventeenth birthday, and he's never kissed anyone. Sirius resolves to teach him how.

Petty (With A Prior)

Rated: M. Words: 64k. By: lunchbucket

Showing up for his ‘civic duty’ is one thing, getting out of jury duty without losing his shit is another. Tack on an attorney who finds the whole fiasco hilarious, and Remus might as well be in hell.

The Courthouse AU of my dreams.

lessen my load

Rated: T. Words: 73k. By: moonymoment

When Remus can't sleep and heads to the familiar laundrette down the road at 3AM for the noise and comfortable sofas, he's certainly not expecting to have to comfort a beautiful black haired boy having a breakdown over a red glove in his white washing - but he does. He's not expecting to fall into sickening, life-ruining love with him, either, but that happens as well.

‘tis the damn season

Rated: T. Words: 71k. By: moonymoment

“Where are you going?” Remus turns. Sirius looks delightful; wine-flush and December drizzle painting his pale, pretty face the deepest carmine red. His spindly hands are twiddling at his front, as if he doesn’t know quite what to do with them. He sniffs, and exhales corporeal ice that sends a shiver running down Remus’ spine. He’s not sure if it’s from the cold or the alcohol or… something else.

and it always leads to you, and my hometown

Impossible Things

Rated: E. Words: 14k. By: accioromulus

Sirius’s thoughts are a slow-moving, impending disaster. How he wants to pin Remus up against the cupboards, to crowd him into a corner; how he wants to intertwine their fingers, to brush his lips against Remus’s forehead, his jaw. Instead, he settles for ducking his head and sliding a finger through the belt loop of Remus's jeans—a ridiculous gesture so utterly intimate, even for the pair of them, that he only allows it because he’s just drunk enough.

“Stop stealing my bloody clothes, Lupin.” He says, very quietly.

Remus looks up at him, eyes dark, and murmurs pleasantly: “Better learn to do your own laundry then, Black. Consider it my fee.”

It was an impossible thing, living with Remus Lupin--but Sirius was doing it anyway.

No Bright Line

Rated: E. Words: 106k By: lady_grey

In which Sirius is a famous actor who has stopped believing in authenticity, Remus is a historian with a complex relationship to memory, and Lily is the brilliant filmmaker who brings them together. James and Harry are there too, although they mostly just want to enjoy the beach.

Liebestraum

Rated: E. Words: 101k. By: lunchbucket

“Do you still have a lot of friends in the area, then?”

“None,” Remus answered simply, which felt much easier than explaining at the level of detail that the question actually deserved.

(Remus and Sirius are musicians)

Currents

Rated: E. Words: 109k. By: lunchbucket

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black arrive in Sydney to compete in the Summer Olympics, both intent on making these games a better experience than the last. The two swimmers have a tumultuous history and intense rivalry, but can America’s golden boy and Great Britain’s notorious bad boy put their past behind them and find some common ground?

all my cards are here

Rated: E. Words: 112k. By: haey1

Sirius cracked a well-practiced smirk, “Nice to meet you, Remus.” Sirius looked at his bandmates loading their equipment into Potter's car, “You wouldn’t happen to know a bassist, would you?”

-Marauders Band AU - When the Marauders kick out their bassist, they ask local bartender Remus Lupin to step in. As the band gains success, Remus must navigate his new friendship with Sirius under the public eye.

The Road Not Taken

Rated: E. Words: 88k. By: MollyMaryMarie

Ten years ago, Remus broke the heart of his best friend. Just before that friend became world-renowned pop icon, Sirius Black. Now, his other best friends are having a baby, and they've named both Remus and Sirius the godfather of their unborn child as some convoluted plot to get them back together. They pretend it doesn't work while simultaneously, and secretly, finding their way back to one another.

Bird Set Free

Rated: E. Words: 70.9k. By: MollyMaryMarie

Remus Lupin is a Welsh figure skater who hasn't quite been able to find his rhythm. Until world renowned Russian figure skater (and Remus' celebrity crush) Sirius Black shows up to coach him.

Heaven is Here

Rated: E. Words: 45k By: R33sesPieces

Remus Lupin and Dorcas Meadowes work the front desk at the most expensive hotel in London. Every year, they crash a wedding (or two) in the hotel’s ballroom and keep a tally of who can get away with the most daring behavior. The Potter - Evans wedding, however, doesn’t go quite according to plan.

[tutuandscoot]

What exactly do you think Tessa loved so much about Montreal? She’s talked about the control that she and Scott took back and the support from B2Ten plus the general environment of the city. But what about Marie France and Patrice and their school do you think contributed to her love of the sport at that point?

Ohh what a great question!

Yes to all those things you mentioned about the city being a change of scenery and offering artistic inspiration! I think that work with B210 was a game changer and yes taking charge of their careers and as much as everyone used it as the butt of a joke, their business relationship really flourished in leading and directing all these experts around them to make them their best. Also considering it was a sponsored program- really making the most of the opportunity that I’m sure hundreds if not thousands of Canadian athletes would kill to have.

I think the whole taking control of their career was HUGE for them (and I’ll get to this in another post with more detail) but the way they approached their whole comeback as not just a return to competition, return to win the Olympics again as redemption for Sochi (it wasn’t, but it may have been seen as that), was this comeback was really like this epic PROJECT for them- like an all encompassing, fully rewarding life project. Artistically, athletically, as a business/work project, also for themselves as best friends to create together, this really incredible project that took several years (their life experience leading up to the comeback) and exiting out of it after the Olympics- they had a plan for everything and didn’t leave anything up to chance- they control everything they could and planned to be the best to get the best result. Like this body of work they created was more then their skating body of work- this comeback era was like.. this piece of both performance art, and this Quintessential, VirtueMoir comeback project- like a piece of history people would study- it was just so much more than a return to competition. That is so freaking cool!! You look at all the other skaters that made comebacks- Patrick, Mao, even Yuna, christ, Torvell and Dean in ‘94 (different era so not a fair comparison). I don’t know the details of all those comebacks but it seems so much less methodical, less planning, more on a whim, and obviously with singles it’s different to a dance team- TS as a pair designed this entire comeback. The only thing they couldn’t control was the results- the judges (the corruption). But they did everything they could, made sure their team did everything they could so they knew they were at their best and if they were the results would follow.

As for Marie and Patch. Yes! I think they were exactly what TS needed. I’m not sure coz I wasn’t around back then, but I’m curious if there was talk in the FS community about TS going to M+P because they were the up and coming school to take over from Marina- they had a “2x worlds team” and TS were coming to challenge the hot new ISU toy team.. create drama etc,etc..

But for those who knew TS before Sochi/ before they came back, not know them personally but know their story and the recent Canadian ice dance history, Marie and Patch were their mentors- TS said they wouldn’t have come back if not for M+P, and M+P said TS were always like their little bbys and they took the responsibility of kinda mentoring them through the ranks and preparing them for what’s to come- how to be champions and be people others wanted to work with, coz they knew they were gonna burn down the whole effing system when they hit their stride. TS going to Marie and Patch had nothing to do with the school, who else was training there, the favourability within the higher ups at feds and ISU. I think TS would have wanted M+P to coach them privately even if they didn’t have a school- I’m sure they would’ve just hired out a rink and worked with them everyday to get where they wanted to be. Obviously having the school and the competitive environment worked to their advantage in having been through that before- but they would have gone to them regardless, a lot of other teams, esp post PYC after the bump IAM (as it was to be called later) got and all the publicity that was attached to TS gave the school, a lot of teams went there for that notoriety and because it was the place to be to get the marks and the winning chore (largely based on the manufactured PC trend, not TS because they always had their own direction- they never fully fit a particular school’s ’style’) kinda in a far less extreme comparison to Eteri and Sambo70. Encompassed so obviously in that olys YouTube series about IAM (which I didn’t watch all of) all the top teams that were there- even more extreme than at Arctic Edge (and then when Marina and Igor split), newer up and coming teams like LL, Mid-late stage career teams like HB and FBS, and then old teams -like compulsory era old like Chock and Bates (who just don’t know when to stop) eventually flocked there after PYC. TS were the ones everyone was chasing for the better part of 10 years, then they were gone and the sport regressed into overly emotional lyrical FDs, weak patterns and a down grade in athleticism and innovation (purely IMO).

TS are the outliers in all of this and no matter what school they went to they would be as special as they are - but for them having the right mentors was critical to them- and that’s what M+P we’re, at this later stage in their career, more mentors to them as people, and then in a contradictory way kinda parental figures to them in this new city and further away from home. That sounds weird to say- they were in their late 20’s and had been out of home since early teens, but TS being so close with their families this probs did feel like a big step away and having M+P who they always looked up to at took care of them was a comfort I think they needed- a balance of comfort and drive to be better then they ever thought they could be. I also wouldn’t be surprised if being with an actual couple- married couple, if that dynamic really worked for TS since as Patch had described them- they kinda were like a couple- just this very unique, unorthodox one. This couple for the purposes of creating art. I’m sure they fed off that dynamic from M+P- not that TS needed to be inspired by and actual couple or learn how to create chemistry- they already had it, but I think just emotionally that really helped them find their peace with each other again and truly not be afraid to just be in love in their own unique way- in love with each other and their sport. Not to mention the whole T+P being the head and S+M the heart. T+M the art and S+P the technique (not exclusive to this roles but all that melded together). This odd mix of different dynamics within these four people was what all four of them needed.

[lonespektr]

OCTOBER 8TH HORROR WATCH

My animal (2023)

Full moon

Sis already bleeding

Old ass tv. I know it's not the past

Old film beauty n the beast shot

Heather has bounced

Into the snow. Into the night

The love of a woman

I for one think all credits should be red

Go into the house

Oh it is the past 🤷🏿‍♀️

Muscle woman

Them weights old as shit my dad used to have a set like that 🤣🤣

Man into wolf

The set design is legit lots of info in the room here

Oh mom isn't dead just maimed?? Now permeantly ill?

Trans or just trying to get on the hockey team? The eternal question

We had them fire pokers too

These set designers in my old house n shit

Shes out of high school, lives at home

Now amandla looks exceptionally modern in dress n hair style

Was that supposed to be canine like?

She does have s job

She's a professional skater?

Dude ditched in the snow WILD ain't no taxis there

Not hiding it

Hiding what?

Another nose bleed

Good big sis

Amandala invites her out

The mom is lamenting she isn't a girly girl so she is stuck in a house of boys

Midnight timeline for full moon?? Seems arbitrary i don't think moons have a 12 hour timeline

Out in the car no control over when to come back

Doing drugs

Super safe

11:30 casio alarm

Weird non casino visit just like hanging out while one person gambles

No smoke anywhere so not realistic

Lots of face bleeding

Horror movie woman screeching over growling over howling

Off into the woods

Now she is wolf

Lots of red being utilized

Lol they both came early to train and both got kicked out by the boys

Only thing in town is an ice rink

Always intrigued by the forward but closeted individual

They own a diner?

They use they chained up method

Lol weird sex dreams

Mandala nekkid but not her?

The twins have perfect hair

Amandala clocked the scratches every where

The locks are on the outside huh

Seems like mom didn't know about him before they got married

Then got bitter-er after the incident

But also she seems sick sick not just booze sick

One of the boys have an attitude problem but also it appears they are starving themselves possibly

A bit

There's a bunch of eggs all the time. It's standard American breakfast but it's also it's a large amount of eggs instead of traditional American tv breakfast which has too much of everything

Like 87% egg meal

Ok correct says she can try out

She drives mandala to her ice skating

🤣 dam yo mama suck here 's a free nacho sorry about your shiity life

Dad is sick too he's old

She crying

Oh mandala isn't a muscle lady which is her type lol

Try outs

Mandala boyfriend is uh like 30

She lets the girl distract her from her tryout

Can i say i fucking hate this trope?

I prefer when it's family drama, cumalative of course but it's just better to have an unforeseeable family situation arise than this shit

I just hate it , as a compartmentalizer it seems so unrealistic to have something screw up everything you been working for just because you didn't focus for an hour and process it later

Like GROW UP

Yes very depressing nothing to do town

Not these child twins with a fake ID

They're not only literally in middle school, they look younger than they are

I guess it's not full moon so they're at hers

Artsy 80's synth sex scene with not exactly bisexual lighting because of the use of reds and black

More growling

Pep talk

Moon anger

I tried to be alone

Rick's friend is rich

Ironically her mom is the only one in the family who is not a dog

Getting the cold shoulder gay panic

To go back to the boys who idea of fun is to speculate on milfs in front of their girlfriend

Classy

Breakup! 💔

Screaming crying and suddenly mom is of use! Mom can talk you through a breakup

That's a fancy vest my dude

Leather like panels?? On the puffer vest

Where can i cop old man?

Down he goes

Whole house is crying

Separately

Burn, no hospital

Ah he reverted to wolff form in death

Big ass wolf for little man

Usually you don't see a whole family

I guess you still don't because the kids are in the prehiphery

I get most of the stories are always about navigating and if you have a whole family then it's not a struggle you have infurstructure

But you literally don't have to always make it a coming of age alagory

Family fight

Boy who knows blames her lesbianism as the cause of fathers death

She runs off

Blood moon

Changing at midnight is convenient tbh

Lol now she bought to start a fight

Lol thought they were going to have her eat all of them like lol how could she come back from that

What does that mean in this context?

Petty argument here

Party city makeup but it's 80's aesthetic

Mom sobers up enough to handle her emotional break downs and wash away the tears

Nice nuance frankly

To have an all wrecked parent or a only fun/ good when manic or high parent

Instead of a relapse/ recovery parent who is inconsistent

Which is the more common. More interesting. More nuanced situation, more interesting and more realistic

Oh no first heart break looks the guy and books, lol

[myreygn]

Peekaboo!

summary: Phichit visits Yuuri in Hasetsu and it brings back memories from Chicago. Memories, a catchphrase, and something else.

an: my second commission for @wertzunge 💛 thank you so much for commissioning, i apologize for the wait and i hope you like it!

wordcount: 1380

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“He has a very cute accent” is the only thing Mari has to say when Phichit retreats to his room to freshen up a little after the long flight. When Yuuri asks her if that's all, she shrugs and lights herself a cigarette.

Yuuri doesn't know why he's surprised at her lack of enthusiasm; it's not like she's usually a bundle of energy. Maybe he expected things to be a little more exciting, because Phichit is visiting his family’s hot spring for the first time and that’s a special occasion, but he soon realizes how ridiculous that thought is. Phichit isn't a celebrity. Phichit is Phichit, his friend, whether they're in the USA or in Japan or anywhere else in the world. And his family doesn't do a happy dance, but his parents are as friendly as always and Mari even offers Phichit a smile when he returns from his room (maybe she does it to appease her brother, but it doesn't matter, because a smile from Mari is a high honor whatever the circumstance).

The whole visit is nothing special, in the best way possible. They talk like always, they laugh like always and even though Phichit runs through town like an excited tourist, they visit Yuuri’s favorite places just like they visited places back in America. Skating in the ice rink is more fun than usual, but it’s no different from skating with Phichit in Chicago and Yuuri catches himself thinking how much he missed his friend at the most random moments.

“Phichaboo!”

He for sure didn’t miss this.

“Stop it! Don’t say that!” Yuuri giggles softly at the sight of Phichit emerging from the water, shouting his stupid little catchphrase. He remembers his first evening in Chicago when he was sitting on a bench alone and this smiley Thai boy appeared behind him out of nowhere with a happy ‘Phichaboo’ and nearly gave Yuuri a heart attack. The little wordplay was fine and funny enough as an icebreaker early into their friendship and Yuuri honestly thought it was really cool of Phichit to just walk up to a stranger and say something so silly. The problem is that Phichit just won’t stop saying it.

“Why though? It’s my thing!” Phichit grins. “I don’t ask you to stop talking about Victor all the time, do I?”

“Talk about- talking about Victor is not my thing!” Yuuri feels his face burn and he has to fight the overwhelming urge to descend into the water when his friend giggles softly. “And even if it was, at least it’s not as annoying as having your own version of Peekaboo!”

Phichit mock-gasps, pushing a good amount of water straight into Yuuri’s face - luckily, they have the hot spring to themselves, otherwise this probably would’ve thrown a very unprofessional light on the Katsuki family. Not that Phichit cares about such banalties as professionality. (Not that he’s wrong to not care. Yuuri often wishes he could do that.) “Annoying?!”

Right now, he wishes that Phichit would never leave again. Damn, he missed this.

“Would something annoying make you laugh like this?!”

He for sure didn’t miss this.

“Stahap!” An embarrassing squeak escapes his mouth and Yuuri frantically grabs his friend’s wrists, pushing them away from his tummy. “Don’t tickle me!” Okay, he’s lying. He did miss this, a little bit, but still!

Phichit laughs and obeys, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Tickling has always been a way for him to calm Yuuri down during their time in Chicago. Too many new people at once? A few subtle pokes to his midsection to keep him in the here and now. A failed jump during practice and negative feedback from the coach? Some squeezes to the hips never hurt nobody. Just a rough day in general? Time for a full on tickle attack once back in the dorm! And similar to the catchphrase, which Yuuri at this point refuses to even think, there’s no stopping Phichit, even after being friends for quite some time now.

“You’re so childish!” he mumbles, hugging his torso and playfully glaring at Phichit.

“That’s bold coming from someone who blushes when I say ‘Phichaboo, here comes the tickle monster’.”

Enough.

“AIEE- Yuhurihihie!”

Yuuri just smirks and continues to squeeze up and down his friend's sides, making him cackle. He has always known that Phichit is ticklish too; a poke here and there has showed him, but really tickling him… it just never came up. And at least in the beginning of their friendship, Yuuri admits to himself, he was too shy to initiate something like that. But now? Oho. Payback time!

“Eek! Yuuhuri! Whyhyhye?!”

“Why?! You made fun of me!” Yuuri mock-gasps and scribbles over his friend's tummy. “How very dare you!”

“Buhut you cahahalled mehe chihildish! Ahand I sahahaw you bluhush, so I juhust said the truhUTHAHAHA!”

“Good spot, huh?” Another squeeze to Phichit's hips, drawing a loud cackle from him. Yuuri grins. Why deny it, he's having fun with this! Especially because Phichit has only squeaked and giggled up until now, which is cute and all, but not really what Yuuri was looking for. Now, he's found the spot to get real, full-blown laughter out of Phichit. Real, full-blown, incredibly infectious laughter. Yuuri has to really keep it together so he doesn't giggle alongside him - Phichit would tease him endlessly about it!

Apropos teasing…

“Peekayuu, here comes the tickle monster!” Gosh, it even makes him blush when he says it himself, but it's totally worth it for Phichit's indignant squeak. He resorts to tickling his friend's sides again so he can speak.

“Nohoho! Thahahahat's my cahahahatchphrahahase! Yohou cahan't hahahahave it!”

“What are you talking about? I've never heard you say Peekayuu before. You always said… ah, damn, I forgot. Oh well, let's just use my version from now on.”

“Lehehet's nohot! It's PhichahAAH!”

Yuuri can't help it, he just has to laugh with Phichit when his hands find his hips once again in order to prevent him from finishing the sentence. (Mainly though in order to hear these endearing cackles again, who is he kidding.)

He only stops when Phichit taps his wrist - a signal they established back in Chicago to signal that one (Yuuri) has reached his limit. Yuuri immediately takes his hands off amd even though Phichit's eyes are shimmering with obvious joy, an anxious feeling creeps into his chest. What if that was too much? What if he has overwhelmed Phichit? What if he's mad at him? What if-

Phichit interrupts his spiraling train of thought by splashing water into his face and when Yuuri looks at him, he's laughing. (He's laughing. That's good. They're good.) “You’re unbelievable! First you tickle me, then you steal my catchphrase! What's next, do I have to sleep on the street now?” Phichit tries to make an angry face, but the twitching of the corners of his mouth betrays him. “The audacity!”

Yuuri feels like a heavy weight is being lifted off his chest and he allows himself a little smirk. “I just felt like you needed to pay a price for the time in Chicago. And also a lesson on catchphrases.”

“A lesson?! Phichaboo is perfect!”

“Peekayuu sounds better though.”

“Maybe in the ears of an amateur!”

“Okay, okay.” Yuuri grins and gives Phichit a pat on the back. “How about Phichayuu? As a compromise?”

“That’s an entirely new word, I don't know if- okahay, okay!” Phichit swats Yuuris fingers away before they can wiggle into his side more. “Phichayuu is okay.”

They both laugh, then Phichit smiles at Yuuri. “Can I be honest for a second? I'm really happy that you were confident enough to tickle me.”

“Huh?!” Yuuri feels his face flush and the look he gives Phichit must look absolutely dumbfounded, because it makes his friend snort with amusement. “W-why?”

“Because it shows me that you feel comfortable and safe with me, so, thank you!” Before Yuuri can respond, Phichit's genuine smile morphs into a wicked smirk. “Also, it means we can have equal tickle fights now and be silly and have fun!”

“Didn't we have fun before?!” Yuuri squeaks and Phichit laughs.

“More fun!”

More fun. More fun sounds good. Yuuri looks at Phichit's wide smile and smiles back. He missed this.

[starryevermore]

remember me: family (6) ✧ bucky barnes

remember me ✧ a bucky barnes series | ao3

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: they find out what you remember.

word count: 1,760

warning(s): pet name (doll), not proofread

note: there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come.

“So, you and Buck, huh?” Nat said, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

Your face burned as you tried to distract yourself by tying the laces on your ice skates. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nat raised a brow, smirking like she knew you weren’t being honest. “Is that so? Because, if I remember correctly, he was practically tripping over himself when he asked if you were going ice skating with us later.”

“He’s just…awkward, I don’t know. But it doesn’t mean anything.”

Except, you wished it did. Everyone told you that Bucky was different around you—good different, they always said. But…you weren’t convinced. Ever since you joined the team, it seemed like Bucky was just unsure of where to place you in his life. Steve, Nat, and Sam all had places as his best friends. Peter was the one he would treat like a little brother. Tony was the one he would go out of his way to annoy. And so on, and so forth. Everyone had a role. Everyone except for you. 

You liked Bucky. You weren’t quite sure when it started, but there was something about the man that drew you to him. It almost felt like he would be the kind of person who could understand you. You’d heard about his past, whispers from the agents who were always too scared to make eye contact with him. They always said that it was better to stay away from him, that he was dangerous. But, every time you were near him, you just wanted to cradle his face in your hands and tell him that everything was going to be okay.  

But every time you were around him, he gave you nothing. No smiles, no laughs, no conversation. It was as if you weren’t in the room. Granted, he didn’t leave the room like he would with others. He would stare, though. And, if you let yourself look back at him for long enough, you’d almost say that there was a sort of warmth there.

So, you wouldn’t say that Bucky didn’t like you. But you also wouldn’t say that he did. 

That is, until he came into the kitchen this morning, staring at you a little harder than usual. He stood a little closer, holding his mug a little tighter. When you finally asked if he needed something, he blurted out, “Are you going to the ice skating thing tonight?”

Natasha, who was in the process of pouring a bowl of cereal and bore witness to the whole ordeal, swore that he was asking you out. You weren’t convinced. 

And yet, you couldn’t deny the butterflies fluttering in your tummy as you told him, “Yeah, I am. I’ll see you there?”

And here you were, circling the rink with Nat, waiting for him to make his appearance. “He was asking you out,” Nat insisted. 

“I think he was just trying to be nice, Nat. I don’t think it meant anything,” you said as you made another lap, shivering slightly. 

“Hey, are you cold?” Nat asked, her brows furrowing together as she looked you up and down. When you shook your head, trying to deny it, she gave you a pointed look, unraveling her scarf from around her neck. “You should know better than to lie to your best friend.”

“It’s fine, it was just a cold breeze!” you still tried to deny, trying to pull away as she wrapped her scarf around your neck. When it was tied, Nat gave you a satisfied smile. You looked down at the scarf, trying to ignore the way tears pricked at your eyes. “I—thank you, Nat. I’ll give it back when we get back to the Tower.”

“Keep it. You’re family. What’s mine is yours.” When she saw the tears well up more, she said, “We’ll talk about this later, okay? ‘Cause here comes your prince charming.”

She grabbed you by the shoulders, spinning you around. And there he was. Skating right up to you, a shy smile on his face. Nat gave you a small push, the skates doing the rest of the work as you slid up to Bucky. 

“Hi,” you said. “I almost didn’t think you were coming.”

“Had to work up the nerve to get here,” he said, his cheeks tinting pink.

“Oh, yeah, ice skating is really scary, even for an ex-assassin,” you said. 

“No, I meant to see you,” he said before he could stop himself. His eyes went wide, and he quickly added, “Not that you’re scary. Quite the opposite, actually. I-I, I think you’re really nice, and that scares me, ‘cause people aren’t that nice to me and—”

You lifted your hand, placing your mitten-covered hand over his mouth. “Shh. I understand.”

“No, no, you don’t,” he said, taking your hand and pulling it away from his mouth. He still held it as your arm and his fell at your sides. “‘Cause I really, really like you. And I’m terrified of messing it up.  And I’ve convinced myself that I’ve already messed it up and there’s not a chance in hell that you could ever like me and—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Can we start over? I haven’t done this in a long time and…I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Sure,” you said. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Bucky,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, too, doll.”

Your stomach flipped at the pet name. You weren’t entirely sure it was a good thing or a bad thing. Something about the word felt tainted, like it wasn’t something you wanted to be said. But, when Bucky looked at you with those pretty blue eyes, you almost wanted to hear him say it again, and again, and again. So, you painted on a smile, and you pretended that the weird feeling didn’t happen.

“Well, Bucky,” you said, “are you going to stand there staring at me, or are you going to show me the best night of my life?”

“Doll, I’d do anything for you.”

“How long until we reach Wakanda?” Bucky asked. When neither Yelena nor Nat responded, he said, “How long are you going to give me the cold shoulder for? I found her. I brought her back.”

“You wouldn’t have had to find her if you’d used your brain,” Nat said. “And you weren’t the one to find her, anyways. You dragged your feet ever since you realized you’d been tricked.”

“How long?” Bucky repeated. 

“Another hour.”

“And the cold shoulder?”

“You’ll be forgiven if Y/N forgives you,” Nat said. She turned, looking at Wanda, who was sifting through your mind. “How is she?”

Wanda looked up, then immediately looked back down. Bucky didn’t like that look. Wanda said, “There’s not much there. I-I don’t know what Bucky’s mind looked like after he was brainwashed, but…It’s like they took nearly everything.”

Steve raised a brow. “Nearly everything? So some part of her is still there.”

“Only Nat,” Wanda said. She gave Bucky an almost apologetic look before looking back down, trying to probe your mind for anything else. “It’s just bits and pieces. I don’t know if she really knows who Nat is. But, every so often, in all of the chaos, there’s flashes of Nat and—”

Faster than any of them could process, you had awoken, flinging Wanda against the wall of the quinjet. You…Bucky had never seen you do anything like that before. You were strong, sure. Any agent had to be. But something like that? It was as if Wanda was a ragdoll to you. He had only ever seen such a thing with…Oh god. What had Hydra done to you? 

“Doll, wait—” Bucky said without really thinking. 

Those were not the right words to say, he realized as your fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled backwards, unsure of what to do. He had to restrain you, and that meant having to fight you. And god, he really didn’t want to fight you. That would be hurting you more than he already had, and he couldn’t do that. He really couldn’t do that. 

As Bucky regained his footing, Steve tried to grab at you, grab your arms or something, but you kicked him back. He slid across the quinjet, before he stopped himself, redirecting his energy and charging at you. But you swung at him, his nose making a sickening crack!

“This isn’t you,” Bucky tried again, trying to grab you. He knew that this wasn’t going to work. He knew that there was no way at getting around this, not until the hold Hydra had on you was broken. “Please, doll—”

“Y/N, don’t, please,” Nat said, standing up, her hands raised. She rose from her seat, slowly approaching you. “This isn’t you. We—I’m your family. And, I know you don’t want to hurt us, hurt me. Please…We don’t want to hurt you, either. We just want to help you.”

And it almost broke Bucky’s heart how you listened, actually pausing, staring at Nat with a sort of recognition you didn’t have when you looked at him. 

“Family?” you repeated. 

“Family,” Nat said. “I won’t let you get hurt, I promise. I just want to help you.”

“Help?”

“Help. We’re taking you somewhere that can make you, you again. Do you trust us to do that?”

“I trust you.”

Not all of them. Just Nat. And while Bucky understood, it didn’t stop his heart from breaking even more. 

“Wanda’s going to put you to sleep, okay? Not like the kind of sleep that happened with the bad people. She’ll give you good dreams, okay? And when you wake up, you won’t have to hurt anyone again. You can just try to find your happiness again. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

And you didn’t fight when Wanda stood again, using her magic to put you back to sleep again. 

Nat looked back at Bucky, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry she didn’t recognize you.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” he said. He almost meant it. “If she doesn’t remember me, she doesn’t remember the pain I caused her.”

“Maybe,” Nat said. She looked at Wanda. “What were you saying? Before all of that happened?”

Wanda blinked, trying to remember. Then, she said, “Right. Um, I was saying that all that I could find was you. And, when she was given her last mission, she’d had a thought.”

“What was the thought?” Bucky asked. 

“She wanted to know if Nat was okay.”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Okay, I know hockey player versus figure skater is a super cliché rivalry, but all day today, my brain was like “hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian,” so here we are. Also, fun fact, this exact event actually happened to my little brother at one of his games. TW for blood and injuries. Hope you enjoy :) @nessianweek

The cool rush of the air conditioning is the first thing that hits Cassian as he pushes through the doors. The throwback pop song pumping out of the speakers and the smell of popcorn from the snack bar hits him next. He shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, resettling the weight, his sticks clacking together in his other hand. He makes his way over to the board declaring the locker room assignments for the day, squinting until he finds the Illyrians. He's about to head off toward their locker room when his eyes snag on someone. 

Nesta is perched like a queen on one of the benches in the lobby, her white skates resting beside her. She has a sweatshirt pulled on, but the red skirts of her dress skim across her thighs, and Cassian can see the jeweled embellishments peeking out under the collar. Unsurprising, she has a book opened in her hands, probably another of her smutty romances. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, Cassian finds himself drawn into her eyes, the way they glint as they dance across the pages. 

Cassian doesn't have to think twice before he's sauntering over to her. He drops his bag with a loud thump at her feet, a smile pulling across his face at her answering glower. He loves this game they play. The way he pushes her buttons and she pushes his always leaves flames licking up his skin in the most delicious way. He's sure they make quite the sight, the hockey player and the figure skater, but he'll never stop going back for more. 

"What do you want, Cassian?" 

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul." 

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards." 

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest. 

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book. 

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again. 

~ * * * ~ 

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre. 

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear. 

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game." 

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later." 

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?" 

"We are not friends." 

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship." 

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much. 

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team. 

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together. 

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head. 

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle. 

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in. 

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench. 

~ * * * ~ 

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit. 

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet. 

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?" 

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself. 

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own. 

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head." 

"It looked… bad." 

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot." 

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand. 

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?" 

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand. 

"How else would I get home?" 

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?" 

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot." 

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too. 

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open." 

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta. 

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

[fruitcoops]

okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should

Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for parental figure disappointment

The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.

Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.

“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”

“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”

“I know, but it’s kind of important.”

“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”

“I left my skates by the front door.”

Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”

“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”

“I know,” Logan said quietly.

Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”

“I care.”

“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.

“I know.”

Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He received no response.

They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.

He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”

Starving. “Kinda.”

“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.

They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.

“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.

As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”

“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”

Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”

“Oui.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”

Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”

“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.

Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”

“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”

“Of course.”

For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”

“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”

Sirius hummed, but said nothing.

“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”

“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”

“Ah.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Belittling yourself.”

“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”

“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”

Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”

“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”

“Did Dumo drive you back?”

“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”

“I still feel like shit.”

Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”

“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

“He will.”

They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”

“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”

Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”

“You’re the best.”

“I try.”

“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”

“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”

“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”

“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.

“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”

Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”

Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”

He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”

Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”

Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”

“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”

“I care about you, too.”

“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.

“Drive safe, Cap.”

“I will.”

The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.

The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”

“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”

Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.

“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

can we get an update on the figure skating tag? 🤧

For sure. It has definitely been a long time. Here's the tag.

That's His Thing by OnTheGround2012

(1/1 I 611 I General I Stackson)

Stiles calls his husband to ask him a favor.

Triple Axel (Into My Heart) by raimykeller

(1/1 I 1,335 I General I Sterek)

Derek just wants to win one Olympic gold medal before he retires from skating. Stiles just wants to win Derek.

AKA Olympics AU with men's figure skaters Stiles & Derek

keep me from stumbling. by doctorkaitlyn

(1/1 I 1,827 I General I Stiles/Boyd)

Stiles hesitates for a few moments, glancing back and forth between his skates, the ice and Boyd’s outstretched hand. Just about the time Boyd decides to drop it, Stiles slowly releases his grip on the boards and wraps his fingers around Boyd's.

“Alright. Don’t laugh if I fall.”

“I won’t.”

Home On The Ice by LadyDrace

(1/1 I 1,837 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek plays hockey in college, and one day his team has to share the rink with a figure skater. That's when things start getting really interesting.

Be My Alpha? by AsagiStilinski

(1/1 I 2,517 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles should be happy that he just placed silver at his second Grand Prix Final, only coming in under Scott who definitely deserved the gold, but no, instead he's spending the banquet totally pissed because his skating idol, Derek Hale, only placed third- don't get him wrong, he WANTS to beat Derek... but only when Derek is giving it his all, not skating so... hopelessly....

Luckily, Derek is as aware of this problem as Stiles is, and he intends to remedy it... with a very weird solution to his problem...

Rings Of Fire by LI0NH34RT

(1/1 I 3,131 I Teen I Thiam)

Figure Skater Liam dreamed of being at the Olympics his whole life but when his partner Hayden breaks her ankle at a practice jump too risky, his dream seems over and done. Theo is a single skater because his attitude makes him incompatible with a partner but that doesn't stop their coach to pair them off in training – Will the flame of their hate burn them out or light up a different fire?

Let's Go Crazy by manonisamelon

(1/1 I 5,350 I General I Thiam)

Theo loves figure skating, he has a favorite skater and the olympics are here. It's an emotional time full of joy and stress over the performance. Luckily he has a boyfriend ready to support him.

Two Silver Medals and a Boyfriend by DamnSterek

(1/1 I 7,418 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles and Derek had been good friends during their primary education, things changed after Stiles went to High School. Beacon Hills, however, is a small place to live in, so it was inevitable that the two would meet again. Most of their time they spend at the ice rink, so how about a challenge? The fact that they would both compete in the Olympics did not help their matter. Would Stiles finally figure out how their friendship got ruined? And maybe more?

___

OR, the one where Stiles and Derek go to South-Korea for the Olympics and figure out where they went wrong. Also, lots of figure skating.

All the Quads Are My Friends by never_love_a_wild_thing

(1/1 I 10,872 I Teen I Thiam)

Liam and Theo go to Figure Skating Worlds in Milan, ready to prove themselves to the skating world and end up falling in love along the way.

a million dreams is all it's gonna take by elizaham8957

(1/5 I 34,668 I Mature I Stydia)

Since the day she stepped out onto an ice rink for the first time in her life, Lydia's dreamed of winning Olympic gold. She's worked towards that goal every moment since, determined to get there one day, prove to the world she has what it takes to be the best of the best in ice dancing. But when her partner leaves her high and dry on the eve of her Olympic season, suddenly all those dreams come crashing down.

Luckily, Lydia doesn't give up easily. And her coach happens to have a plan that could make or break her career.

Enter one Stiles Stilinski.

Ice, Ice, Baby by SnowshadowAO3

(1/1 I 40,537 I Teen I Sterek)

“We could do Despacito.”

Derek makes a face, and Stiles silently crosses the song off the list.

“Hit Me Baby One More Time?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I swear to god, Stiles…”

Stiles crosses it off as well, then perks up. “Ooh! I know! What about that one song from Tangled, where they’re sitting in the boat in the lake, and all those lanterns are floating around them?”

“I’m not figure skating to Disney in the Olympics, Stiles.”

Born to Make History by CharWright5

(18/40 I 149,100 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles Stilinski thought he was finished with figure skating for life. Until a video of him performing a routine by his childhood idol, Derek Hale, goes viral and the man himself shows up at Stiles' family's bed-n-breakfast insisting on being his coach.

AKA a Sterek/ Yuri!!! On Ice fusion that no one really asked for.

[queen-of-obsessing]

it started over a phone call. 

the entire group had gone to California to help the Byers move back to Hawkins, and while everyone had gone to check out the mall and roller-skating rink, and Eddie decided to stay behind at the house with Joyce, Steve found himself worrying about him. He didn’t like the idea of Eddie being (almost) all by himself in an unfamiliar state, in a house covered in bullet holes. 

He couldn’t help but worry, even as he sat with Robin and Nancy at the roller rink. So, finally, after Robin and Nancy had spent the whole afternoon flirting, laughing and skating together, Steve found a public phone and called the Byers house. He just wanted to know what he was up to, if he was okay, if anything bad had happened. 

Joyce picked up the phone and told him that Eddie was upstairs packing some stuff up while listening to Jonathan’s music records. 

Jonathan - who Eddie had spent the last two days hanging out with. The inseparable childhood best friends. While they had been laughing and talking like they had known each other all their lives - which they basically had - Eddie had spent no time with Steve, and even though Steve had formed a nice friendship with Argyle, it still nagged at him. Who needed Steve when he had Jonathan’s illustrious company? Steve bitterly hung up the phone. 

Joyce, however, is entertained by this. Steve adorably checking in on Eddie? It was too sweet. She bounds up the stairs, sticking her head into Jonathan’s room, where Eddie lounged on the floor. She tells him Steve called. But Eddie’s not impressed. He doesn’t find it very cute. He questions why Steve would feel the need to call in the first place. Does he think he can’t take care of himself?

Eddie is incensed when Steve returns from the rink with Robin and Nancy, and lightheartedly asks him what he had been up to all day. “Don’t bullshit me, Harrington, you know full well what I’ve been up to,” comes his cutting response. 

Steve’s first instinct is denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Something about Steve lying only further fuels the disgruntled anger in Eddie. He hates liars. “Now you’re lying to me? First you call the house, just to what? Check in on me? Then you lie about it?” 

“I didn’t lie!” “You just said you didn’t know what I was talking about. You’re literally lying to me. To my face.” 

Steve is caught. He knows that he knows. He also knows that Eddie is going to demand an explanation, but the only explanation Steve has isn’t one he is prepared to share. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”  

But he’s only dug himself a deeper hole. It isn’t looking good. By now a crowd has grown, everyone else returning from their respective places, watching this unfold with confused expressions. 

Eddie is hurt but carries on - he has a point to make after all. “Because, Steve, after all we’ve been through, the least you can do is give me a little bit of trust, not go behind my back to check in on me, as if I can’t take care of myself.” 

Steve’s brow furrows. Trust? Since when did he not trust him? “I know you can take care of yourself, Eddie-” 

“Then why’d you call? To make sure I didn’t burn the house down? Murder somebody?” 

Steve is horrified. “No!” How could he even think that, when he was one of the few people who fought for his innocence four months prior? 

“Then what? Why can’t you trust me, Steve?” Eddie’s angry now. He wants to know why but Steve isn’t telling him. Why would he care what happens to him? He keeps pushing, pushing Steve for an answer. Answers he can’t give, and Steve tries so hard to resist his questioning, walk away and leave it, but his own frustration is rising. Until finally, something snaps. 

“Because you weren’t the one who had to pick up the pieces!” Steve shouts. Eddie is shook. Everyone is shook. But Steve has no choice but to continue now. It was too late. “When you were in the hospital, who was the one who had to keep it together? Who was the one who had to watch Dustin cry, break down over and over, wishing his friend was okay? IT WAS ME! I HAD TO WATCH HIM CRY IN MY ARMS! And where were you?! You were unconscious! YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO SEE WHAT YOU DID! You traumatized a child, by running into a swarm of demobats, when we all knew goddamn well you could have gone through the gate!” There are a chorus of gasps. Everyone had assumed Eddie and Dustin never even made it to the gate. Mike looked at Eddie, horrified at the realization of what he had done. Tears sprung to Eddie’s eyes at he stared at Steve, face flushed with rage. “But you didn’t climb, did you? No, you had to be a hero, you had to prove yourself, you turned away and cut the rope, you left Dustin alone, and I dealt with the aftermath. So, yeah, you can forgive me if I call.” 

A stunned silence falls on the room. Eddie’s barely able to hold back tears as Steve continues to glare at him. He takes in a shaky breath. “Thanks, Steve,” he responds before pushing past him upstairs. Steve shuts his eyes, regretting everything, but there was no undoing this now. 

Later that night, after things had mostly calmed down, Steve comes to Jonathan’s room, to find Eddie sitting on the bed, back turned to him, staring out the window. “I replay that moment in my head all the time,” Eddie says quietly. “What would have happened if I just...grabbed Dustin’s hand? Climbed through?” 

“Why didn’t you?” Steve asks. He didn’t dare come any closer. He figured he didn’t deserve to, but he had to ask. 

“I don’t know.” Eddie’s back slumps. “I guess I thought...if I went through...I’d just be running away again. Like I always did. A coward who runs away.” 

“Who told you it was a bad thing to run away?” Steve turns around, Jonathan leans in the doorway. “That’s not really true, you know. You just wanted to survive. Live your life. That’s not weakness.” 

“You were never a coward,” Steve added. 

“I wasn’t even there and I know you weren’t,” Jonathan continued with a laugh. “You are the bravest person I know. You’re so unashamedly yourself, even when everyone tried to bully you into being normal. Never forget that, Eds.” Jonathan cast an unreadable glance to Steve before leaving the room. 

Once alone, Steve crept closer. “You were a hero the moment you drew those bats away. The first time.” 

Eddie chuckled darkly. “I’m a hero for playing the guitar?” 

“Yeah. How else would we have gotten into the Creel house?” There was a brief silence before Steve swallowed and addressed the elephant in the room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.” He grabbed one of the moving boxes, sitting in front of Eddie at the bed. “Everything I said - I was angry. I crossed a line. It wasn’t cool, I’m sorry.” 

Eddie met his eyes, wide and questioning. Steve reached over and grasped his hands, holding them tightly. “It’s just...you're my friend, and I...I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, and I nearly did once before, and I can’t do that again.” 

“I mean a lot to you?” 

Steve bit his lip. “Yeah, we’re friends, right?” 

Eddie stared back at him, gazing up, pleading. Please don’t hate me. The three words are reflected in his gaze, but Eddie can’t bring himself to interpret it that way. He instead nods. “Friends.” 

(There’s a lot of stuff i didn’t include, like Mike and Eddie’s convo, how Joyce felt about the whole thing, etc, but i didn’t have room hehe but this is all gonna be a fic so we’re good!) 

[turtle-steverogers]

Hey pal, I'm a bit sad, so if you're up for it kill me with saaaaad stucky headcanons because you're absolutely awesome at them. (No pressure tho, love ya <3)

hello friend! love ya too! i'm sorry to hear that you're a bit sad-- i'm here if you'd like to talk!

after some deliberation, i have decided to use this particular headcanon of mine:

-So one day around the holidays, Steve and Bucky go out on a little day trip to some shops in upstate New York

-It's a cute little outdoor mall type place with coffee shops and string lights and an ice skating rink at one end, which is a much needed change of pace from the usual bustle of the city

-Of course, they get some treats at one of the cafes and take to the streets after, bundled in similar winter sweaters and walking at a leisurely pace, arm in arm and hands warming around hot coffee cups

-They window shop a bit, deliberate over gifts, and enjoy the peaceful air, and all in all, it's a nice area but it's not until they come across an antique store at the end of the strip

-It's a humble looking store with three levels-- an upstairs and a basement-- and a warm glow to the whole establishment. Books are grouped in one corner, a sign near the basement boasts clothes down the stairs. Old jewelry lays in cases along the middle of the store

-Naturally, they veer off from one another, taken by different things within the store. Steve finds himself wandering through the old record section and into the art supplies, which enthralls him for a while as he combed through old products that didn't seem so old to him. Except now they're worn and delicate-- another thing allowed to grow through time naturally while he was cursed to miss it

-Just beyond the room, there's a section filled with children's toys-- old rocking horses and wooden toys, still somehow more modern than what he grew up with. There's a section with dolls and dollhouses and he barely registers that he's moved before he comes back to himself holding one of the small dolls

-Steve turns over the doll, running his thumb over the worn features of its face. It is dressed in a colorful pink and yellow smock, a pink bonnet secured over its blond ringlet curls. He recognizes it as a Lenci Doll; Becca had some that she'd let Steve play with her when he'd come over the times that Bucky wasn't around. He'd wanted a set of his own, loving the idea of nurturing and loving something so sweetly, and he'd asked one day while out with his ma and pa-- a rare outing they'd taken as the three of them to the shops if his pa were sober for once. He winces, remembering the disgusted look on his father's face, the reservation on his ma's. It was the first heartbreak he could truly remember, and he didn't understand why it was so wrong to want a doll. How different was it from his teddy bear? Or army men?

I'm telling you, Sarah. He's gonna turn out a little queer.

Eyes suddenly burning, he grips the doll tighter.

"Got a whole collection of those, we have. A big find."

Steve jumps, blinking away the wetness in his eyes as he glanced to the side. An older man is standing next to him, dressed in a red sweater vest and sporting horn rimmed glasses. He has a name tag on, clearly an employee there.

"Oh, cool," he says, unsure of what else to say.

"Got a niece or something? I bet she'd love that."

Okay, so he hasn't recognized Steve. Thank god, honestly. He can't imagine what it would be like to find Captain fucking America holding a goddamn baby doll.

"Oh, uh, just-- just looking. It, uh, reminded me of my ma," which isn't exactly a lie. He looks back down at the doll, stomach aching. Would his ma have even wanted him to have the doll? His father had made it clear enough, but he can't read the memories of his ma all the time. What she might have thought of his queerness.

"How sweet," the man says. "Well, we sell them for cheap considering how much they go out for on the market-- only twenty dollars."

Steve shifts his feet, nodding. He doesn't want this man talking to him anymore. He feels oddly exposed.

"Cool," he says again.

Luckily, Bucky catches up to Steve then, holding a stack of dime store sci fi novels, and an old leather jacket that reminds Steve of one George Barnes used to wear. He wonders briefly if that's why Bucky had chosen it

Hastily, he puts down the doll before Bucky can see, but Bucky knows him better than anyone and he catches the movement

"Whatcha got there, pal?" he asks, reaching past Steve to pick up the doll.

Steve blushes, scuffing a shoe.

"It's nothing, it's dumb," he says, quickly, eyes landing back on the doll. He wants to reach for it again. "Just... Becs used to have those, remember?"

Bucky's eyebrows furrow and he glances down at the doll, thumb smoothing over the cheek. "Yeah, she was real protective of them. Never let me touch them unless I was helping her fix the tangles from one's hair."

Steve frowns, an old, irrational tinge of jealousy curling around his gut. He wishes he'd had one to be protective of. "I used it play it with her when I was real young still and-- and I'd come over when... you weren't around," he says. "Used to want one of my own..." He bites his lip, frowning. "I asked for one once when I went out with my ma and dad." Shrugging, he laughs dryly. "Definitely didn't get a doll that day."

He shakes his head, eyes downcast. It really was dumb, ruminating over this now.

"It's okay," he says, giving Bucky a brave smile. Bucky's watching him with an unreadable look on his face-- Steve thinks it might be anger, but there's a certain sadness there, too. "It doesn't matter, um... I'm going to check out the clothes."

-The subject is left alone for the time being. Steve clearly doesn't want to talk about it, but Bucky stays behind, watching Steve's retreating back. He looks down at the doll, smoothing his thumb over the cheek again, and thinks of Steve-- six or seven, maybe-- hoping for a doll. Innocently asking, only to be denied. He doesn't know much of the specifics about what went down in the Rogers' household, but he knows there was a lot of pain. A lot of denial. A lot of anger. He glances one more time at Steve, across the store now, and tucks the doll under his arm, hidden in the jacket.

-Christmas morning comes with a quiet morning together. Breakfast prepared while snow falls outside their apartment, personal gifts exchanged, and some soft music playing in the background.

"I think there's one more gift, honey," Bucky says, pointing to a small bag under the tree.

Steve frowns and reaches for it. It's not heavy, but it clearly has some weight to it. He glances up at Bucky, a questioning frown on his face, even as a smile lights his eyes. He carefully unpacks the tissue paper and reaches inside and--

Oh. Oh.

His eyes fill with tears as he looks down at the doll, her blonde ringlets still tucked underneath that pink bonnet. Her weight is warm in his palm. Instinctively, he holds her to his chest.

"It isn't dumb," Bucky murmurs after a long moment. He'd wanted to say that that day, but Steve had walked away. "You deserve her, Steve. You deserved her then, and you're allowed her now. You always should have been. I'm sorry you were ever not allowed to be yourself."

Steve is crying now as he reaches for Bucky, and then they're hugging, his face tucked into the crook of Bucky's neck. A doll won't fix the pain his father inflicted, but Bucky will always be his safe place. That space where he can be authentically and undeniably himself.

"Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you."

Bucky holds him tighter. "Always."