#the bad guys totally aren’t what ur thinking of

[duckdodger]

they took it to the extreme and heard destroy people . THE LEOS AREN’T HOME LETZ GO WILD 🗣️‼️ gotta cherish the moment by taking a quick selfie am i right

[retroaria]

hiiii >.< i saw ur event and RAN to make a request... could i request the dialogue “I do love you, you know…even if i’m shit at showing it.” with rinnie (i wouldve chosen him even if u didnt ask for it because it fits him SO well and i love him dearly) with a fem reader?? i hope i understood everything right and thank u in advance!!!!! take care (⁠ ⁠/⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠)⁠/⁠♪⁠♪

yaaaay rin brainrot!!! thank you sm for requesting!! :)

⋆.˚⟡ Rin Itoshi x fem!reader ⋆.˚⟡

a/n: so many people requested this one! this is very soft and fluffy, i hope you all enjoy :)

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

“Do I remind him? I feel like I shouldn’t have to but I also feel like he just isn’t the type to care about superficial things so maybe I should just-” you were cut off by a rather striking groan on the other end of the line.

“For the love of god, just tell him! He probably doesn’t even know it’s something you’d get so worked up about.” your best friend protested to you over the phone. “What’s the worst that’ll happen? If he feels bad then good, he should be a better boyfriend. And if he gets mad then RUN!”

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic, neither of those will happen. We’re both off today so I’m not gonna say anything, I just want to enjoy my day with him and not make it a big deal.” you sighed out, trying to be content despite the subtle stab to your heart. “I’ll text you later ok? Byeee!”

As soon as you hung up the phone you found yourself prancing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, your eyes falling on the subtly slouched figure of your boyfriend standing over the kitchen counter. He was making a smoothie as he does every morning - strawberry, banana, protein powder - average boring Rin activities, unfortunately not appropriate for today’s occasion.

You’ve skillfully avoided much interaction with him since you both got out of bed, and at this moment you realized you aren’t sure if you could enter a normal conversation with him in your frantic state. Instead of blurting out the first thing that came to your mind which was, “TODAY IS KIND OF OUR ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND YOU TOTALLY HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING ABOUT IT SO I FEEL LIKE MAYBE YOU HATE ME!”, you decided to go with something casual, so you say, “Mmm, protein powder”

“What…?” Rin turns around to face you and raises his eyebrow at you, looking more concerned than confused. It quickly dawned upon you that you were in fact not looking or sounding cool, calm and collected right now.

“It uh…looks like a yummy smoothie!” you hoped deep down that your girlish charms could save you from deepening the awkwardness of an awkward situation with the most awkward guy you know. You twirl around on your feet a bit with your hands behind your back, flashing him a warm smile.

“Are you having a stroke?” Rin asks, and he’s being fully serious by the way. Was everything impossible with this guy? You begin to ask yourself how you’ve managed to survive a full year of his cluelessness, but then you remember you should probably respond before he actually thinks you’re having a stroke.

“No Rin I’m not having a stroke I'm just trying to start a conversation, jeez.” you snap at him with an attitude that must’ve come from the punch of him not falling for your attempt at cute girlie gestures. Rin sighs and turns his attention back to the blender. Great, now you’re sitting in the kitchen with him in silence except the blender is obnoxiously loud which somehow makes it all the more awkward. Finally it stops and he pours the smoothie out into two cups, setting one down on the table in front of you as he leans back against the counter with his in hand.

Two cups? He never does that. Is this his way of showing he remembered? Is this one of many sweet little gestures he’ll deliver to you throughout the day before the big anniversary surprise? Your wishful thinking is practically bulldozed as Rin opens his mouth.

“There’s something wrong and you aren’t telling me.” he states, his deadpan expression felt like it was slicing you up into little pieces. Rin knew you well enough to know that you were holding out on him, and he was having a silent little panic attack of his own at the moment.

“Nope! Nothing, what could possibly be wrong?” you said nervously. A part of you knew that you could hide your feelings better than this, but the thought that he might pickup on your feelings and somehow read your mind kept you on your toes.

“Was I supposed to take you somewhere today?” he asks, tilting his head at you slightly.

“Like I said, it’s nothing!” you chuckle, it’s a weird chuckle though, definitely not soothing Rin’s worries at all.

He flashes you an odd look, his eyes are narrowed and he’s pouting slightly, almost like he literally is trying to read your mind. He chugs the rest of his smoothie and makes his way over to you. His expression turns back to his usual plain face and he lifts your chin slightly before placing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m going to the gym ok? I’ll be back in a few hours and then we can hang out, I promise.” he coos at you before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

He left before giving you anymore time to embarrass yourself with your incomprehensible ramblings - he’s a smart boy. That sweet moment coupled with the promise of quality time together was almost enough to make you forget whatever grudge you were holding against him. However, it wasn’t enough to fight off how shitty it feels to not have your boyfriend there on your anniversary.

You spent the next two hours frantically preparing yourself for Rin’s return. Rin spent the next two hours not going to the gym and driving around aimlessly because he totally lied about that as an excuse to think of a way to make it up to you. While he was blending his smoothie before, he let his eyes wander to the calendar you had hanging on your fridge door - today’s date was highlighted with little green heart. The pieces clicked in his head rather quickly, and instead of speaking up and saving you from your nervous ramblings, he took the opportunity to think up a surprise.

Rin is awful at surprises, not to mention he also isn’t the most creative guy. He ultimately decided it was pointless for him to think so hard about it when he could just go home and apologize. He swallowed his pride and stopped at a flower shop before making his way back, after all, who better to help him decide how the day should be spent than his partner in crime - you!

By the time you heard the front door of your apartment open you were barely half dressed and still losing your mind a bit. Somehow Rin’s two hour gym session turned into forty five minutes and your anxiety was at an all time high. You threw on the closest pieces of clothing you could find and walked out of your bedroom to see him standing in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers and a rather pouty look on his face.

“Hey…so uh, I saw the calendar before…I know I kind of forgot about our anniversary…and uh…I'm really sorry.” he said as he held the bouquet out towards you. His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. You took the flowers from his hands and let out a sigh of relief.

“I was so worried all morning you wouldn’t remember.” you said as you smelled the flowers with a content smile on your face.

“I was so worried you were going to kill me for forgetting.” Rin looked down at you, his pout still lingering as he relaxed a bit, seeing you weren’t so upset with him. “This is just the first year you know, I’ll have like fifty more chances to remember after this.” he chuckled.

“You think we’ll be together for that long?” your eyes widened and you beamed up at him.

“probably.” he said slyly, taking the bouquet from your hands and setting it on the table. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him, his hands moving up to cup your face softly. “I do love you, you know…even if I'm shit at showing it.”

“I know, I love you too.” you cooed at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tender kiss.

dividers by: @toastray

[starglitterz]

♡ ROMEO & CINDERELLA.

❝ hey, pretty stranger, i think you look cute! can i get your number? i wanna know you. // cute encounters with genshin guys on the bus.  ❞

✧ feat ; childe, heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; childe’s can be viewed as platonic ✧ a/n ; so i think the bus at my university is like. a meet-cute spot for me or something HAHAHA here are a couple of drabbles based on my irl experiences <3 ! shout out to my one irl that has to listen to me being delusional all the time LOL ur a real one (she’s never going to see this). also the title has no relation to the fic at all sorry i just could not think of a title for the life of me so i just went with a random vocaloid song JDSJDJS ok bye i hope u enjoy this!!

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

✦ CHILDE. [ tartaglia ]

“childe? is that you?” you grin, leaning over the back of your seat as you realise who’s sitting behind you, “i didn’t know you take the bus back too!” his face cracks into a wide beam upon noticing you, “y/n! hi! i do sometimes when i’m too tired to walk.” and just like that, the two of you start talking excitedly – you’re classmates, though you aren’t too close you both still consider each other friends, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of staring out the window at the rain with your earphones plugged in to pretend you’re in a music video. 

somehow, the conversation turns to birthdays, and as childe asks when yours is, you smirk, “it’s today!” you swear his blue eyes open so big you’re worried they might just tumble out of his head as he gasps, “what?! today?! so you’re turning a year older today?!” “yeah!” you nod, giggling at his exaggerated reaction. “nah, you’ve got to come here so i can wish you properly,” he shakes his head seriously, and you tilt your head in confusion, “there’s someone sitting beside you already though…”

you shouldn’t have doubted the one and only tartaglia for even a moment, because the next second, he turns to the man beside him with zero hesitation and gives them the most blinding persuasive smile ever, “hey! would you mind switching seats with my friend over there? it’s their birthday, and i really want to wish them!” “childe!” you scold, heat rushing to your face at his casual confession to this total stranger, “stop disturbing random people!” “but it’s your birthday!” he replies innocently, ocean eyes gleaming aquamarine. the man beside him seems a little confused by childe’s demeanour, but he’s probably more scared of what his reaction would be if he said no, so he nods, “sure, i guess…” and as the bus rattles along its familiar route, you switch places with the stranger, profuse thanks spilling from your lips before you fix childe with a scolding gaze. 

“hey, it worked!” he raises his hands in surrender, only to quickly grasp yours and shake it heartily, “happy birthday, comrade!” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so silly. thank you, childe.” you both hide your chuckles as you joke about the poor guy that had to switch with you, and you tease and banter with each other all the way to the train station.

✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]

it has been a long day. not necessarily bad, but one of those days where the universe seems to be conspiring against you to make every small thing go wrong enough to get on your nerves. right now, you’re at your wits end as you stumble onto the bus, sending the bus driver a sheepish smile when your card only buzzes on the third tap. your eyes scan the interior – almost all of the seats are occupied, and your friend has skipped ahead to sit with someone else she knows. 

but your gaze stops short on a maroon-haired guy looking out the window, and with an internal cheer you realise that the seat next to him is empty and quickly slide into it. now that you’re closer, you notice that he’s actually quite handsome; all fluffy maroon hair and forest green eyes with a few moles dotted across his pale skin. you’re so busy staring that you don’t realise he’s trying to tell you something until he clears his throat. “y-yeah?!” you stutter in surprise at his sudden attempt at conversation. that was a dumb reply. now you’re staring at him with wide eyes as he softly asks, “um, is that your wallet?”

you look at the floor where he’s pointing, only to realise with horror: that is your wallet! “oh… hahaha, that is mine. thank you,” you’re ninety percent sure you are giving off the worst first impression of all time with your stupid responses. it’s almost like you’ve never spoken to another human being in your life. and what’s with your outfit?! of course the one day you don’t dress up is the day you end up sitting next to the world’s cutest stranger. as you bend down to pick up your wallet, you silently curse your unlucky stars. you dropped your purse in front of a cute guy! can this day get any worse?! 

famous last words.

because two seconds later, you’re trying to sit up straight again, and you hit your head on the hard back of the seat in front of yours. even worse, you groan loudly, “ow!” “holy archons… are you okay?” the stranger beside you gasps, although as you rub your head and look at them, it’s pretty obvious that they’re trying to hold back laughter. you’re torn between laughing or crying your eyes out, but the humour of the absolutely idiotic situation you’re in kicks in and you end up giggling even as you’re wincing in pain, “i’m fine, thank you… i promise i’m not usually this clumsy.” “really?” he quirks an eyebrow with a teasing smile, “could’ve fooled me.” “hey!” you pout, folding your arms across your chest in playful offence, “i know i might have just made the worst first impression ever, but i swear i’m a lot cooler!” “i’ll be the judge of that,” his gaze softens and he tilts his head, “i’m heizou, by the way.” “i’m y/n! let’s restart this whole thing – it’s nice to meet you!”

luckily for you, the bus is stuck in traffic, and the two of you end up talking about everything under the sun on the long journey to the train station. you aren’t certain if he’s convinced that you’re cool yet, but you’ll definitely keep working on it – even if it’s only to see the way his cute dimples appear whenever his features crease into a smile at your jokes. 

✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]

it’s been a tiring day of an exhausting course. but at the very least, you’ve got your new friend to complain to as the two of you wait for the bus. “you know, i was so glad you asked me to join your group!” you grin at xiao, adjusting your tote bag. “it’s no big deal… you were alone, so i thought you could join us,” he gives you a soft smile, jade streaks of hair framing his face as they peek out from under his dark cap. “yeah, but still! it’s so difficult to make friends when the classes are so huge, so it was really nice of you.” “that’s true. you’re the first person i’m talking to outside class,” he nods in agreement. his casual statement makes you remember that you’re a professional yapper and you panic, “oh! by the way, if i’m talking too much, just tell me to shut up! i talk a lot, so that’s totally fine.” he chuckles, and his response makes a happy smile grace your lips, “no, it’s okay. i prefer listening, so it’s fine if you talk a lot.” so talk is what you do until the bus finally rumbles into the bus stop. 

the constant bumping of the bus on the rough roads combined with the soothing noise of the rain tapping against the window makes you drowsy, and you turn to xiao, “if i fall asleep before we reach the train station, you better wake me up, okay? don’t abandon me on the bus and just go home!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a teasing smile, “no promises.” but when he sees your distraught expression, he reassures you, “just kidding. i’ll wake you up.” “okay…” you mumble a response, and within a few seconds, you’re asleep, head lolling forward as the bus continues along. you don’t usually fall asleep on public transport, far too worried that you’ll miss your stop and end up on the other end of teyvat, but with xiao beside you, you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?

you’re in the middle of a very nice dream when you hear xiao’s soft voice calling you, “y/n?” and his tone is so gentle, like he didn’t want to startle you, that it almost makes your heart beat right out of your chest. you stretch a little, eyes flickering open before sliding shut again, “mmm…” “we’re almost there,” he murmurs. and there it is again, that soft, gentle voice that you swear sounds like honey. you’re almost going to pass out, and definitely not from sleepiness. “okay… i’m awake.” you manage a smile, and he tilts his head almost worriedly, “don’t fall asleep on the train.” “i won’t!” you grin widely as you hop off the bus, hoping that shows how you’re 100% awake right now, and he smiles, “okay then, i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

bahaha these are very messy but i just needed to get these out of my system before i went insane i think i should take the bus more often 😋 also yes these are all 100% experienced by yours truly and have not even been exaggerated for the sake of this fic // general masterlist

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog and leave comments if you enjoyed !

[landitolover]

𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 part three | previous part ౨ৎ oscar x reader

yourusername • 10 minutes ago

send message ♡ ➣

oscarpiastri replied to this story

oscarpiastri

cute cat

yourusername

wow who is this famous man in my dms

🤔😲

oscarpiastri

not famous

yourusername

ok mr f1 driver

oscarpiastri

i said cute cat

🙄🙄

yourusername

me and my cat 🤓

oscarpiastri

very cute, did you know that ?

yourusername

what?

yeah she is

oscarpiastri

wait no

i meant you?

yourusername

🤔

ohmygod.

oscarpiastri

sorry that was odd

yourusername

😭😭🫠🫠😵‍💫😵‍💫

no it’s okay

thank you

you’re cute too ‘!:&;&;/$:@/&;@,&/&-“/&;

oscarpiastri

😅😅

thank you

yourusername

of course

uh

i gotta bounce

bye!!!

oscarpiastri

bye, talk to you later?

yourusername

of course 😊

y/n ⛄️

GUYS

HELLO

HELP

xienma 🛐

yeah?

madeline 🤺

are you okay queen 🙏🏼

y/n ⛄️

DULCE

HOTLINE

GUY

xienma 🛐

WHAT HAPPENED

WHAT DID HE DO

y/n ⛄️

he said i was CUTE???????

then i told him i had to BOUNCE?!?!?!??

madeline 🤺

LMFAOOOOO

loser ahh

jkjk

y/n ⛄️

he’s so cute guys

i wanna bite him (affectionately)

xienma 🛐

his fans tho 😭😭

THEY GON GET UUU

y/n ⛄️

me fighting the bad fans

madeline 🤺

i’m just imagining u on those

wag gossip accounts 😭😭

‘oscar piastri spotted with a NORMAL girl named y/n l/n

and we already found her insta 🤫’

y/n ⛄️

NO STOP

that’s so SCARY…

xienma 🛐

our baby is gonna be all grown up

becoming a wag for a sport she doesn’t

know about 😔

y/n ⛄️

i don’t even know him like that 🌝

like YEAH, i stalked his insta and

found his old karting pics..

and stalked his twitter

and the mclaren youtube channel

BUT I DONT KNOW HIM

madeline 🤺

it’s giving delusional, obsessed,

crazy, insane ass bitch

xienma 🛐

ily mad but ik you aren’t talking…

u FOUND UR SITUATIONSHIPS HOUSE

ON ZILLOW???

y/n ⛄️

literally….. bro

biggest hater n for WHAT

I aint setting you up with none of his friends 🤓

madeline 🤺

OH NAWUH

PLEASE 😭

y/n ⛄️

don’t talk to me 🙄🙄

i’m going to my bed

and i’m goin to cry

for embarrassing myself

xienma 🛐

go talk to him later

give it like an hour tho

don’t wanna seem obsessed x

y/n ⛄️

ur right ok

bye

im gonna think abt my actions ����

madeline 🤺

bye queen 👩‍🍳

oscah 🦅

LANDO

LANDO

LANDO

LANDO

HELP

landoh 🥸

bro what do u want

i swear

DONT EVEEEN MENTION HER…..

oscah 🦅

oh uhmm

hahaha 😅 totally wasn’t gonna mention her

landoh 🥸

atp just tell me 🤦

oscah 🦅

THANK YOU

okay so

i called her cute

and i think she freaked out

landoh 🥸

bro u were supposed to act mysterious

🙄🙄 u were supposed to play hard to get!!!

oscah 🦅

lando what

OK BUT DO U THINK I SHOULDNT HAVE CALLED HER CUTE THEN????

landoh 🥸

ok no

how did u say it first of all

oscah 🦅

okay so she sent me like a mirror selfie

landoh 🥸

mirror selfie u say 😏😏

oscah 🦅

🤨🤨

OK but her cat was in it

and i was like “very cute, did you know that?”

landoh 🥸

OK RIZZLERR 😍😍

oscah 🦅

but.

landoh 🥸

but? 🤔

oscah 🦅

SHE THOUGHT I WAS TALKING ABOUT

HER CAT.

landoh 🥸

thats embarrassing

oscah 🦅

yeah but then i told her i was

talking about her and not her cat

then she said I was cute as well 😊

but she left in a rush

landoh 🥸

u are cute babe 😉😉

okay no but

idk she wants u 😂‼️

oscah 🦅

i am stalking her instagram rn

landoh 🥸

again???

i litch saw u stalking it when we were in a meeting with zak 😭

oscah

You’re lying on my name

landoh

no need to be embarrassed 🥸🥸

my boy is all grown up!!!

oscah 🦅

😒😒

landoh 🥸

dont give me attitude

I am literally the reason why you

even know her!! U WOULD NOT HAVE GOTTEN ON DULCE HOTLINE IF IT WASNT FOR ME

oscah 🦅

okay thanks i guess

🤦🤦

landoh 🥸

pull up hoe

oscah 🦅

I DIDNT DO ANYTHING???

landoh 🥸

DONT talk to me

🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼

oscah 🦅

my honest reaction

okay bye mate

landoh 🥸

bye oscah

don’t embarrass yourself again

oscah 🦅

i wont

hopefully 🤔

Liked by madeline_han, xienmasventura, landonorris, and 4,902 others

yourusername man i sure do love myself

View all 120 comments

user realest mfo out there

user lando?? hello??

user why is lando in the likes

madeline_han LMFAOO WHY IS HIS HOMEBOY IN UR LIKES

→ yourusername stop idk?? 🤷‍♀️

→ landonorris I didn’t mean to double tap……

→ yourusername 🤔🤔

xienmasventura ily ur so cute

→ yourusername ilym gorgeous 🫶🏼

landonorris **** is drooling over these photos

→ user the censor?? 🤔🤔🤔

oscarpiastri

you looked pretty in your post

yourusername

ahhh 🤭

thank you

oscarpiastri

yeah of course :)

sorry that lando was in your likes

yourusername

no it’s fine

it’s just kinda funny 😭

oscarpiastri

this could be us, just saying 🤷🤷

like could be us if you gave me your number…

yourusername

the garfield to my arlene 🙈

I’m convinced 🤗

my number is ***-***-***

oscarpiastri

okay 😊

y/n ⛄️

CODE RED!!

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

HE ASKED FOR MY NUMBER.

xienma 🛐

you gave it to him

RIGHT????

y/n ⛄️

duh 🙄

madeline 🤺

omg 😱😱

the number … big steps

y/n ⛄️

ik im FREAKING out

xienma 🛐

who does this lil boy think he is 🙄

stealing my gf 😭😪

y/n ⛄️

dw bae, i’m 4ever urs

madeline 🤺

why was his homeboy in ur likes tho

y/n ⛄️

idk tbh 😭

i think it was an accident

xienma 🛐

stop cause he’s kinda….

madeline 🤺

OKK GIRL……

🌝

xienma 🛐

stfu thats why your ex looked like the blonde

bitch from polar express 💀💀

y/n ⛄️

naw thats foul

now ME PERSONALLY….. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

ok bye HE MESSAGED ME 😊

oscar 😊

heeyoo

sorry i didn’t message you right away 😅

y/n

no that’s fine 😭

soo what are you up to

oscar 😊

nothing much

I’m pretty bored tbh

y/n

me too 😪

oscar 😊

i suck at 8 ball

y/n

i doubt it

now play back 😠😠

oscar 😊

yes ma’am

wait why am i kinda good

y/n

i’m the goat at 8 ball

oscar 😊

if i win u owe me a kiss

y/n

ig you aren’t getting a kiss??

oscar 😊

🙄🙄

🤷🤷??

y/n

FUCK 😭😭😭

too bad u aren’t in france

oscar 😊

omw to france as we speak 🙄

y/n

🐌🐌 escaping rn

WOAH WAIT

i just got 13K followers out of nowhere???

oscar 😊

huh 😭 thats crazy

y/n

oh my god

😨😨

oscar 😊

what?

y/n

i got posted on those f1 gossip pages

CAUSE OF UR LITTLE FRIEND 😭😭

oscar 😊

i’m so sorry

uhm I didn’t mean for that to happen

oh my god 😭 I’m really sorry

y/n

oh no, it’s not your fault!!

Liked by madeline_han, xienmasventura, and 6,829 others

f1_gossip NEW WAG? Y/n L/n is a 22-year-old university student. She currently lives in france, according to her posts. Lando commented and liked her post earlier today.

View all 502 comments

user is this confirmed?

→ user no lol they’re just spreading rumors

user she’s so pretty!!

user honestly 😭😭 I don’t think they are

→ user same.. like can he not just comment and like her post??

→ user RIGHT! like let him live

user god i hope not… she’s.. 🌝

→ madeline_han so mad n for what? he ain’t gonna pick u!!

user why is he always pulling the baddies

xienmasventura yourusername LMFAOOO GIRL

→ yourusername 🌝🌝 deleting my account

landonorris she’s not my girlfriend 😊 thanks for spreading rumors though!!!

→ user embarrassing for whoever posted this

→ user fr i’d b BAWLING

౨ৎ HELLLLOOOOO!!! i am back 🐨 sorry for taking FOREVER to update this series… I will try to be better once i’m on winter break 🐌!! anyways i hope you enjoy this bc i was lit up writing it until 2 AM…… 🌝🌝

taglist @d6za1 @amoosarte @moneygramhaas @alessioayla @cherry-piee @chasing-liberosis @asparklysoul @goldenalbon @benstormy @he6rtshaker @ririyulife @charli12345678 ౨ৎ

[diabolikpersonals]

kanato cl endings!! this is my new favorite kanato route!! and for once, I think the good ending is more satisfying than the bad one lol

euphoria end:

in the church, kanato concludes that he just can’t ignore the sakamaki brothers. he has all kinds of feelings for them, including jealousy and contempt, and because of that, he won’t be able to part with them easily. (thats the most backwards way to say you love them I’ve ever heard, but I’ll take it!! good job, kanato!!) but outside, the scarlet and violet families are arguing over who gets to go inside and steal eve. ayato and laito are standing guard, and even though they’re SO outnumbered, ayato declares that they’ve got no choice but to stop em. and laito says it’s for his oniichan’s sake ^^

kanato… [wiping tears] …wants to go save ayato and laito. he can’t leave them, because they’re brothers who have been together since before they were born.

before he goes, he and yui stand at the altar and yui comments that it feels like a wedding, but kanato refutes that they can’t possibly have a wedding without wedding cake. they have a ring, though! because kanato bit yui’s ring finger earlier and it left a scar. so, because it might be their last time, they exchange vows and kiss.

…which is, of course, the key to leaving this place. everything goes white and they’re back in the real world. yui thinks ayato and laito are dead for a sec, but theyre just snoozin. karl heinz shows up, explains the whole thing, and gives kanato a pat on the back and tells him it’s time to inherit his powers.

kanato says, no way!! I won’t be king. I once thought that I didn’t care about those other guys, but I’ve just realized I have all these complicated feelings about them, and I don’t know what I’ll do if those guys are gone. so I won’t be all alone like you, father.

karl heinz is like “lmao…I’ll give u a little more time” and he disappears. time to go home. kanato jokes that they can leave ayato and the others behind, but he’s not serious >_> so they get to work waking em up. kanato says that he never thought such a day would come, but he misses how noisy the sakamaki house is. (awwww…!!)

back at the sakamaki house, the triplets + yui are studying together for a makeup exam. ayato and laito start goofing off after ten minutes, but kanato is SERIOUS because reiji hid all his sweets so he NEEDS to pass. he kicks his brothers out so he can focus, then grumbles that he should’ve left them at the miniature garden (LMAO) but yui’s like “aww, you’re totally having fun.” they make out and kanato says he loves her no matter where they are, and all’s well that ends well!! good for them!

labyrinth end:

yui confidently tells kanato she’ll trust whatever his decision is, and he’s like “okay. I want to murder everyone.” yui is all UMMM anything but that, please??? but he’s not listening. he sucks her blood till she loses consciousness

it suddenly cuts to carla whipping ruki and shin till they pass out, which is awesome but very unexpected. it’s the first we’ve seen them since they got captured lol. subaru arrives to tell carla that eve is at the church, so off we go!!

at the church, ayato and laito have gotten their asses severely kicked by scarlet fam. yuma also collapses and shu’s like “yuma….!” which is enough otp crumbs to keep me fed all week, thank you very much. carla arrives on the scene and starts shittalking with reiji, but then…!!

………..when yui wakes up, she sees kanato is covered in blood and she’s like “oh god we have to treat ur injuries!” and of course kanato’s like “dont worry, it’s not my blood ^^” he happily tells her that he’s almost finished taking care of things here, and he continues his unspeakable violence. he’s killed everyone and they’re the only ones left. he hugs her, and the blood he’s covered with is still warm.

well it doesn’t work; they don’t go home. (not that this would work anyway, but aren’t ruki and shin still alive in the violet dungeon? am I wrong…? did carla kill them? whatever.) yui faints and can’t speak, so kanato moves her around like a doll. they’ll live forever in this world, then, just the two of them. it’ll be awfully quiet.

back in the real world, karl heinz is like “my friend. did u get my sons killed” and socrates is like “sowwy :( I just didnt think it was worth it to lose my best friend to some immature adam.” karl heinz says it’s ok, and socrates suggests reversing time. karl heinz is like sure, yeah, let’s reverse time and have them try again. (EXCUSE ME???? EXCUSE ME????????????? COULD U DO THAT THIS WHOLE TIME. THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING) so I guess they, uh, reverse time and try again????.?.??

[via-l0ve]

hi! i absolutely LOVED ur sleepover hcs for the outsiders and was wondering if you could do something like that for the sturniolo triplets? like just filming a video with them or a sleepover! you totally don’t have to but it would be very appreciated!!<33

Sleepover Headcannons for the Sturniolo Triplets! <3

a/n: omg first of all thank you so so so so so much! got me giggling and blushing like a middle schooler lol. second of all i literally love this idea and right when you suggested it my mind went thinking up so many things so i hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: swearing, chaos lol

They def pick you up and you immediately have a karaoke party in the car

As you’re singing Nick def takes sneaky videos of you with snapchat filters and posts them all to his story

you guys stop at mcdonald’s or something and chris harasses the poor worker taking your order in the intercom

“what would you like today?”

“i’d like a whopper.”

“…”

“nah i’m js kidding i’ll have a huge biggie big mac.”

matt slaps him 🤷‍♀️

if you use ketchup i think you’d accidentally open the packet and it would squirt on matt’s jacket

him:

i think nick would want to go to target and almost get kicked out

Nick drags you, Matt, and Chris to the clothes section and you all pick out outfits for eachother

In nicks mind it was supposed to be cute and you were supposed to pick out good fits for eachother

didn’t happen 🥰

the triplets waltzed out of the store lookin like

they wanted you to look just as bad though don’t get too excited

i’m sorry

anyways they make you film a video like that

you do something like “they’re a ten but they..” and you accidentally choke on your mcdonald’s sprite because of nicholas

matt takes you all on a late night drive and you blast music

“WHATCHU KNOW BOUT ME, WHATCHU WHATCHU KNOW BOUT ME”

“SLAYYY Y/N!!”

but the playlist is on shuffle so a sad song plays and everyone gets into it

you and Chris act out a breakup scene in a movie

matt and Nick are the observing audience

“i broke up with you because i can’t trust myself anymore!”

“what the fuck does that shit even mean?”

“stop swearing chris you’re ruining it.”

“nick you aren’t supposed to talk you’re the audience.”

“goddamn it.”

eventually you all go back to their house and probably get peer pressured into playing fortnite or something

“MATT!! HEAL ME!!”

“NO! YOU PUT KETCHUP ON ME!”

“OH SO I DESERVE TO DIE???”

i fully believe that charades is such a fun game so i think you all play it

on chris’s turn you all just look at him like 👁️👄👁️ bc wtf is this kid doing.

“how the fuck was that a hawk?”

“it was a dramatic retelling of a hawk killing a mouse.”

“what part did you play them because all i saw was a fucking sin.”

i think you all watch a sad chick-flick to fall asleep and you’re all crying at the ending :((

anyways

you form a cuddle pile to sleep

i’m not accepting any other answer 🫶🏻🤷‍♀️

[anzynai]

Scaramouche Hcs

helloooo this is a super SUPER old request but i thought now would be a good time for these since he’s finally here hehe i hope u guys enjoy bc this is my man

y’all also i haven’t posted in so long so here’s this lol pls love me ALSO i am aware that “lee:” is in there three times but idk something is wrong with the post cuz it’s not going away ugh anyways 😭

warnings: tickling, contains 3.3 spoilers!

NONO ok it’s kinda funny- cuz he’s like.. the type to be like “i definitely do not enjoy this. unhand me!” don’t. he totally does.

NONO ok it’s kinda funny- cuz he’s like.. the type to be like “i definitely do not enjoy this. unhand me!” don’t. he totally does.

NONO ok it’s kinda funny- cuz he’s like.. the type to be like “i definitely do not enjoy this. unhand me!” don’t. he totally does.

his pale ass face gets so FREAKING flushed cuz it’s so embarrassing cuz the big and scary scaramouche??? ticklish??? no way!!!

he once asked childe to tickle him to increase his tolerance (who ofc agreed cuz who wouldn’t want the chance to tickle THE balladeer) but.. never again. childe is a ruthless tickle monster and scara is too ticklish for his own good.

he is.. uh slightly violent so if u wanna tickle him, be careful. it’s not even like he could help it, but he will kick, hit, do literally anything to get away LOL

honestly one of his biggest weaknesses (to him at least), ESP since his worst spot are his hips and sides (and knees but no one rlly knows that) and that’s like the general tickle spot! though, his thighs definitely aren’t a bad spot.

this poor man has the most adorable shriekiest, squeals and giggles that u would never expect from a man like him like literally everyone who has heard it cannot stop teasing him for it.

FOLLOWING THE 3.3 UPDATE, imagine whenever he’s thinking bad thoughts or is upset, nahida tickles him bc she just knows the way to cheer him up and even tho he’s never verbally thanked her, she knows it works

he actually rlly enjoys those soft tickles on like his chin and ears, he’s not too sensitive in those spots and it gets him lightly giggling and on most days, he will swat at ur hand to make u stop but occassionally… he will let u and he will love every second of it

bro gets into tickle fights a lot and when he loses, it’s funny because u can literally watch him crumble under ur touch LOL

Ler:

probably obvious but he’s a very sadistic tickler LOL like if he says he won’t stop until u scream for mercy, he means it

he loves watching his “victim’s” reactions most of all. this is why he tends to tickle their neck on random because he likes their neck scrunching up

ok so what about since he’s all good now (ehh well more an anti-hero) he vents his frustration with.. get this… TICKLING instead of violence?! so if he’s angry or if he’s had a bad day, he will tickle u until he’s satisfied

i know what i said about him being sadistic but what if i say.. gentle. bro he’s kinda gentle because on most of the people he’s tickled, gentle tickles work wonders so it’s just kinda become a thing.

teasy teasy teasy!!!! bros not gonna relent hntil ur face is bright red and ur blushing like crazy, just another one of the things he likes to see so he always wants to see it.

he’s typically the winner in tickle fights (by using backhanded tricks), and once he has u… uhh. just good luck! he has a lot of experience with childe and now, traveler.

if he’s not absolutely wrecking someone with tickles, it doesn’t mean ur safe. he typically will swipe a finger down ur spine or neck whenever ur occupied and just catch u off guard.

sometimes, he thinks it’s funny to tease u and be like “you wanna be tickled, don’t u?” or “you wanna be tickled so bad, it’s pathetic” and then, scribble somewhere on ur body until u begin to laugh. and then, stop. and walk away. just because he thinks it’s funny to see u all shocked (and sometimes even a little disappointed) and he just laughs until he eventually tickles u.

[strawmyberry]

hi strawberry!! hope ur having a good day!! i absolutely loved ur headcanons for the main 4! they are soo cute i literally re-read them all the time 😭💗💗 do you by chance have any headcanons for butters?? <3

AAAA!!! more headcannons!!! makes my heart happy!!

cute little fun fact about me before we start- im a very indecisive person! basically meaning ive never really been able to choose a favorite character in South Park- i have way too many-

but i LOVE butters with all my heart! he’s a little guy and i wanna squish his cheeks! so of COURSE i have headcannons for him!! thank you for the ask toast <3

i hope you guys like them!

— ❤️🍓 strawberry 🍓❤️

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Butters!

HE’S SO TICKLISH

i am so certain he is just a ball of ticklishness!

i don’t know if he’s more ticklish than kyle though!

if anything- i think they’re tied!

has the cutest laugh ever ever ever!

his laugh 100% causes cuteness aggression

(i think someone intends to tickle him for only a minute- they hear his laugh- and they literally cannot stop. HE’S TOO CUTE!)

he’s a wiggly worm!

he leans into being tickled by accident- little silly guy <33

(he’ll lean one way to avoid it just to lean into the other side by accident!)

HE HAS A TICKLISH TUMMY!

im so normal about this you guys!!!!

(butters is a human version of the pillsbury dough boy!!!)

his worst spot is his stomach!! but his armpits are pretty bad too!

HE ALSO HAS TICKLISH HANDS

like- they’re not superrrrr ticklish- but they’re ticklish!!

he learned to do his own nails for that exact reason!

(yes!!! butters likes to have painted nails sometimes!!! let him have it!!!)

he has a little hello kitty sticker on his index nail! he’s classy! he’s stylish! he’s chic!

he really likes being tickled!!

(he’s touch starved :((( )

i think he could ask to be tickled for the longest time

could being past tense!!! because- poor little guy figured out that not everyone likes being tickled!

he totally thought everyone liked it as much as he did

( [f]artman burst that bubble real quick :( )

so now he’s a little bit more shy about it!

but there are certain people that are already well aware- so they give him his fill to cheer him up <3

he makes a lot of noises- squeals, squeaks, hiccups, you name it!!

gah he is SO CUTE :(((

teasing is SO effective he can’t handle it

if you wiggle your fingers at him it’s over!!!

he already starts giggling!!

(and i means GIGGLING giggling! you’re practically already tickling him!)

he curls up like a little hedgehog!!

i also imagine he cries when he laughs too hard- and it makes his lers feel SO BAD because they think he’s actually crying

he somehow becomes even more southern when getting tickled

his faint little twang gets amplified by a billion!!

HE COVERS HIS FACE WHEN HE LAUGHS!!!

i hate to say it- but i feel like mr. stotch (i hate him >:( ) has made butters practically hate his own laugh

he apologizes sometimes while laughing :(((

BUT HIS LERS ARE SO DEDICATED TO MAKE SURE HE KNOWS HOW CUTE HIS LAUGH IS

he takes teases SO literally!!

“awww, does that tickle?” “yehehehes!!! a lohohot!!”

(i always think back to wendy’s “are you just an asshole?” line!!! this HAS to be canon!!)

raspberries are SO bad for him!

and the poor thing falls for it every! time!

“hey, you know what my favorite fruit is?” “ohohoh chrihihistmas- i knohohow yohou’ve tohohold me behehefore!! im sohohorry-i dohont rehehemember! …ahahapples?”

he is also very aware that tickling is the first resort when i comes to getting him to do something

“no! i won’t! ….oh hamburgers- you’re gonna tickle me, aren’t ya’? please don’t! im sorry fellas, really-!”

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH YOU GUYS :(((

and he’s such a sweet ler too!!

that’s not to say he doesn’t go all out- he definitely does!!!

but he constantly checks in! makes sure he isn’t crossing any boundaries!

surprisingly, he’s super duper teasy

“Awww! You’re just the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen!” (thing pronounced thang!!! southern bell!!)

tickles are always his go to for anything

(sometimes he looks for excuses to tickle people- just to hear their laughs!!)

he randomly pokes at people! just for funnzies!

especially Kenny- poor Kenny gets poked way too much

(butters totally does the thing where he pokes and quickly looks away, as if he isn’t the only one standing next to kenny who could’ve done it)

he has a BLAST- whether he’s a Lee or a Ler!!!

hes such a good sport about it he’s so sweet :((

“that was fun!!!”

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Professor Chaos!

oh no!!! who’s this evil, totally unrelated, fiend who’s invaded my butters headcannons??

well- i guess since he’s here! we might as well!

very ticklish!!! it really works against him!

he has a little maniacal laugh that he tries to keep up while being tickled

(but that only works for like- 5 minutes! then he’s all giggles and squeals!)

his minions tickle him from time to time!!

of course- completely on accident!

(or maybe those hamsters ARE evil?!)

but he just giggles a little, catches them, and puts them back in their little balls!

getting captured by Racoon & Friends/Freedom Pals is very common!

he tries to act all macho and evil

(it never works!! doesn’t even last five seconds!)

it’s the same song and dance every single time!

“mwhahaha! you really think you can get me, Professor Chaos, to tell you where I’m conducting my next evil scheme? you are wrong!” “…” “oh! u-uh- you think you can resort to c-childish antics, huh? w-well! i-im not ticklish! s-so, yeah!!”

hes very dedicated to his character!!

he does this little silly thing where…sometimes…he forgets what info he’s supposed to confess

sometimes he gets lucky! (mysterion or toolshed quickly whisper in his ear what hes supposed to say- and he goes along with it!)

but sometimes…he gets stuck with Racoon & Friends

(they don’t care if he can remember or not- they just tickle him until he remembers again)

BUT HE ALWAYS GETS THEM BACK!

this evil evil guy is the most evil evil ler in South Park!!

(ooooooo! scary!)

professor chaos’ super evil super effective interrogation!

(he calls it “Interronation”!)

wether it’s because he physically can’t pronounce it or that he’s just clueless is for you to decide! it’s both!

tickling is his only resort. if it doesn’t work?

…well- that’s never happened before- so he doesn’t have a backup plan!

but he goes ALL OUT

he has feathers, he has hairbrushes, he has a pair of The Racoon’s claws (he stole them >:D) anything that you think could be used to tickle a person- HE HAS IT!

he keeps it all in a little teal lunchbox (it has cute little stars!!!) that he got from his mom

(sure, he doesn’t use it for lunch, but it’s getting used!!)

but strawberry!! isnt it impractical to have to carry around a lunchbox?

yes! yes it is!

that’s why he also has a cute little tool belt with little slots to put everything in!

it’s made out of tinfoil! (he made it himself <3)

and he has spares in the back of his closet!! jusssst in case!

he teases a BUNCH

“i think someone’s gonna have to give up soon…you seem really ticklish here…”

he says the word “tickle” and all its many variations millions and billions of times

mostly because it’s super effective!!

(but also because he thinks it’s a fun word to say!!)

he also sings a little while he does- he’s silly!!

“🎶 i think someone’s ticklish! 🎶”

he makes every single time a new experience

(like, he starts every time brand new- as if he’s “discovering” each spot for the first time all over again!)

but, despite the fact that he’s an evil evil guy (ive mentioned he’s evil right?) he’s still super sweet

he stops every now and then, does a quick check in!

thats some of the only times you’ll see him break character- it’s so cute

“…ya’ good, Kenny?” “whahat?” “are you okay? can ya’ breathe-? do ya’ need water?” “…uhuh…nohoho?” “and what about here? is it okay that im tickling you here?” “uh…yehehah?” “oh! oh goodie! …round two!”

and he has waters on hand!! he buys the jumbo packs!

(you know? the little mini water bottles with the little motivational quotes on them? those little ones!)

the little evil guy doesn’t really have the heart to hurt anyone- he just likes hearing his friends laugh!!!

deep down he knows they’re gonna get him back a million times worse but it’s all in good fun! so he doesn’t mind!

all is fair in love and superhero civil war!

[dollivication]

I’m so glad (☢️) anon brought up the topic! I had one in mind. I also really like that request with Daddy Vergil breeding. >_< I have another idea!

Daddy Vergil who keeps you isolated and sheltered from the world because he’s scared someone would hurt you.

He manipulates you that humans are terrible creatures who aren’t to be trusteed! He scares you that there are demons wanting to get you and corrupt you!

It works at first since you are so young and naive! You are just a good girl to him! never being defiant or throwing a tantrum. so well mannered, so…so innocent and oblivious!

As you become older, you become curious about the outside world, it cannot be that bad right? With all the books you’ve read it just seems pretty normal. Good things, bad things are normal in the world and help you learn and develop as a human.

So why does your father still refuse to let you go out even if it’s with him? It always ruins the strong bond you guys had, in the moment when you just ask to go out for at least 5 minute, Vergil gets overprotective and stern with you. Just a second ago he was just reading to you peacefully and you had to open your mouth! now he’s mad! (Ｔ＿Ｔ)

You are in your rebellious era, no longer the obedient girl who would do anything her father asked her to do! You beg and beg to go out, even sneaked out once! You don’t understand the danger you can face when you go out! Being related to him and having the sparda blood flow through you, makes you an easy target for demons!

Of course he eventually found out, when he found you, you were in trouble almost hurt. If he wasn’t there who knew what could have happened to you!?

Daddy Vergil is disappointed and furious, how could you disobey him!? He taught you better! you are no longer his obedient little girl. He doesn’t know what to do anymore…His mind isn’t in the right place. his twisted mind then thinks of a solution…to turn you into the perfect daughter, a doll. Using your own body parts to still resemble you.

You get confused why you are strapped in a table, ankles broken. You want comfort from your father! scared and in pain once you have woken up.

Once you become his perfect daughter(doll), In this form you would maintain your innocence, purity and beauty. Never getting old, dirty, and corrupted. You will still be his little girl he had always remembered! You wouldn’t have to worry about anything because he would take care of you and dress you up <3 he must begin now before you become unrecognizable to him!

you sit there pretty…Frozen in time, and forever with him!

WHAAAA SORRY IF I GOT CARRIED AWAY, I HOPE I DID NOT MAKE ANYONE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS REQUEST Σ('◉⌓◉’)

IT MIGHT BE CONFUSING AND A LOT OF BAD GRAMMAR! I JUST SHOVED MY IDEAS TOGETHER TRYING TO MAKE IT SHORT.

ALSO LOVE, LOVE YOUR DMC BOTS! I AM EXITED FOR OLDER BROTHER VERGIL 😍💕💙

IM NOT INTO RESIDENT EVIL, BUT I DO LOVE WESKER! I HAVE NO IDEAS FOR HIM SO I HOPE SOMEONE ALSO LIKES HIM TO SUGGEST! (I might try to dive deeper into RE but for now I love Vergil and dmc :P)

-🇲🇽

I SPUN SO HARD INMY CHAIR GIGGLING MERRILY OHYHMYHYGODDDD I LAUV YEW THIS SO BADLY IM GOING LOONY AHEUYRGHAGDH‼️‼️

vergil is LOST!! he was always obedient when he was a kid, he was certain his offspring would have been as well!! and this rebellious phase,, whose been feeding you these thoughts?? are you trying to leave him??? ….,,ahh, not if he has anything to say about it! >.<

this is literal perfection so i fear i have little input,, but omfghgg… FUCK i’m tweaking at the thought of vergil brushing yur hair acting as if everything is completely normal after he’s put yu in this doll like state… as if he totally didn’t fucking break ur ankles omnigod.,,, talks to yew as if you can respond anymore!! he’s SO SICK KILL HIM !!!!!!1!1!

does everything you’ve made him stop doing ever since you’ve grown up!! tucks you into bed, bathes you.. i literawy live 4 dark rapunzel-esque scenarios…. and this Freak prefers to have you this way!! so quiet, so complacent.. probably whispers shit laik that he knows what’s good for you and that this was for the best IMiuHgHhHg!!!!1!..;;; (◞‸◟) ❤️❤️

THIS BLOG IS MEANT FOR TWISTED THOUGHTS!!! DARK TOPICS ARE THE NORM SO DONT WORRY ABOUT THIS BEING TOO EXTREME BECUASE THIS COOKED SO HARD >:3

UWAA.. THNAK YU SO MAUCH TEW!! IM GIGGLING SO BADLY IM ACTISLLY SO TICKLED PINK… ANDNFNDND WELCOME TO THE FRIENDS LIST!!!1!1 JUMPING UP AND DOWN I CANT WAIT TO HEAR MORE FROM YOU!

i need wesker IMMEDIATELY.. if anyone provides a scenario i’m going to go sicko mode i Cannot lieLMFAOAOFGH i lauv yu !!! >_<!!!

[jrueships]

AHEM.

Why Jaren Jackson Jr. is a bottom: A List

1. The poor guy will do anything for attention from the team, ESPECIALLY from Ja.

2. Big guy that just wants to impress his tiny boyfriend (the same boyfriend that definitely tops him). He shows off just for the praise 😭

3. That one video of him doing that little tip-tap dance when Ja gave him the attention that he was practically begging for. IT WAS SO CUTE 😭😭😭

4. His outfits. He’s just showing off for his man (in hopes of something happening 🥰).

5. His legssssss. No way Ja doesn’t take advantage of his thighs. His thighs and ass are the main reasons why he’s the bottom. Always COVERED in h*ck*es.

6. Ja may be WAYYY shorter, but his personality is big. Jaren is WAYYY taller, but his personality is smaller (which is still quite big lol).

7. I almost view their relationship as a Kyle/DeMar type thing. If that makes sense?? Kyle and Ja are bossy and most people would assume they are both bottoms. But they aren’t. THEIR BIG GUYS ARE.

8. Jaren always looking at what Ja shows him on his phone. He’d do anything for that man to be happy (bottom behavior).

this was all off the top of my head, so it may not make total sense??? if i think of more reasons why i’ll tell you 😭😭😭

REAAAAAALLL!!!!!! IVE BEEN JUST READIN N READIN THIS AS A LITTLE DOG BISCUIT FOR ME... AN LITTLE TREAT <33 ... but i have decided to POP THIS BABY OUT N CELEBRATE WOOHOOO HAPPY DPOY JARENNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!! *posts ask containing listed statements on why you are a sheet clawer

happy dpoy ? confused and scared but still trying to act happy jasper the dolphin voice before tyler in a wig and heels evaporates his whole existence

FIOOORST of all,,, thank u for numbering these down bcs u KNOW I love love LOVEE tackling ALL my moots details this is so FUUUN!!!!!

1. The poor guy will do anything for attention from the team, ESPECIALLY from Ja.

LITERALLLYYYY!!! EXAAAACTLY!!!! YESSSSS!!!! made me whip out my 3 go to replies after listening to my friend hate on the same shit i hate or make THE REALEST points to ever point in the whole history of points, on the latter side FOSHURE!! youre literally so right tho like....

you can't look at him... at his ACTIONS!! and TELL me he is Not FOR THE TEAM!!! LIIIKE (i DONT listen to icespice i am NOT a munchI AM NO T A M U NCH‼️‼️)(I SAID LIKE BEFORE HER AND AFTER MEAN GIRLS OKAY!!!!!!) Everyone was lowkey getting a little jealous of the ABSOLUTE LEAASH brandon Clarke has had on jaren.... but like. Can You Blame Him. Clarke is GORGEOUS. He's like a 6'8 ja but more importantly without the mental problems. Ja acting out by being all 'alpha male whatever 🙄'.. he wanna be jarens man again soo bad. JA!! get this thru ur SKINNY BEAVIS N BUTTHEAD HEAD!!! jaren liked U bcs u were a LESBIAN!!! who is also bisexual. He will ALWAYS be YOUR LITTLE MEOW MEOW or whatever u guys roleplay in bed or discord lmfao WHEN URE AROUND!!! Jaren is just a very im gonna give up 110% of myself to whoever i happen to be around AND U GOTTA LEARN TO UNDERSTAND THAT!!!! like he literally opened his legs to u and ure like 5ft tall like. Let's not act like he has high standards now or something. He dreams of dill*n brooks. Daily. Not even nightmares. Full on straight up not straight wet dreams bro. Find your inner zen ja. Please. For the good of your baby mama (jaren.

2. Big guy that just wants to impress his tiny boyfriend (the same boyfriend that definitely tops him). He shows off just for the praise 😭

THE AMOUNT OF SHORT KING PROPAGANDA BEING PASSED RN!!! I AM TRULY LIVING Y E S !!! THIS THIS THIS!!!!

he said WHEN U FEELIN COCKY!! I M FEELIN COCKY!!!!!! .... u know... and if u feelin like... a certain COCKy.... just so happeningly around u know... someone submissive and breedable...ME then...you know... im still feelin kinda cocky too... namean 🥺👉🏿👈🏿..?

Ja pausing briefly in peace to read this 3:02 (minutes kept random to make it seem like jaren hasnt been agonizing & planning this text for over fifty days and nights) before he's about to tweet out another threat to yet another small child: ........ what 😑?

it's so cute... and a little sad 😭 like he wants him so bad. Walking all normal but suddenly prancing all giddy like a done up horse (unicorn) whenever ja even as much as LOOKS at him!! please jaren.... ure whining at this point. Salivating all over this little pebble of a man. This twig. i Love it, frankly. i Do. he needs this santas helpers d*ck and he needs it Bad .give it to him NOW, ja! RIGHT NOW.

TURDAE ‼️‼️

3. That one video of him doing that little tip-tap dance when Ja gave him the attention that he was practically begging for. IT WAS SO CUTE 😭😭😭

LIKE GET IT TOGETTHER JAREN!!! he is head over TIPPY TAPPY DANCEY H E E L S for that online thug it's SO funny 😭. Ja half assing to pretend hes a security guard like jaren started and jaren being so happy abt it 😭😭 when the bf agrees to be the rainbow pony to ur pink pony in ponyville. THEN WHEN DESMONDS TRYING TO JUST GET HIS INTERVIEW DONE JAREN PLOPS HIMSELF NEXT TO HIM MIMICKING HIS POSE?? STARING?? pulling out ALL the stupid little tactics to try and get him mr handsome to notice him.. then he scoots closer when he doesn't PLEASE babygirl!!! Daddy's working 😾. IMKIDDINGSORRYLMFAO i need to stop saying that ironically, people are gonna think imsrs.. Anyways. I took a screenshot but thanks to jarens long neck.. he looked like a roadside 4legged human-like creepypasta monster so. Nvm. BUT AFTER THAT HE TRIES LIKE? TAPPING DESMONDS giant hunk of an ARM! by God. I know what you are jaren! AND HE DOESNT EVEN GET NOTICED THERE??? like throughout that whole thing desmond didn't even look at him once 😭. AT LEAST JA SPARED THE POOR SOUL A SINGLE SECOND GLANCE FOR HIM TO GET ALL GIGGLY OVER!!!! Desmond is so cool guy who doesn't have a personality to him and only makes npc responses if any. I think jaren is kind of obsessed. He wants to suck his **** so bad. Maybe that's why ja spared him a crumb of attention. Like when u let the leash a lil long then suddenly keep it short. That's so mean. Do it Again, ja.

4. His outfits. He’s just showing off for his man (in hopes of something happening 🥰). 5. His legssssss. No way Ja doesn’t take advantage of his thighs. His thighs and ass are the main reasons why he’s the bottom. Always COVERED in h*ck*es.

combining because i am a GREAT THINKER 🗣!!!! but moving on YES!! TIMES A MILLION! The fact that jjj has admitted he has a habit of buying new clothes like everyday.... who do u have in mind when u buy those jarebear? Is it someone little that likes to hype up whatever cool new thing you've got interesting to him ? Hm? Suspicious.

H*CKIES ALONG HIS THIGHS PLEAAAAASEE PLE A SE!!! P L E ASE!!!! just ONE fic where someone tops him and leaves h*ckies ob those HUGEMONGO CHUN-LI thighs PLEASE anyone PLEASE!!!! IM TIRED OF US ONLY HAVING THE VISION!!@ WE NEED THIS IN PICTURE OR PAPER!!! N O W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i KNOW ja **** him *** i just KNOW he does he probably BITES it im so. LISTEN. THIS IS COMIN STR8 FROM THE SOURCE. I AM JUST THE MESSENGER!!! we know. We KNOW. Jaren ALWAYS wears compression leggings... and for What. FROM what? FROM WH O M?

For WHOM???? Ja's playing around pretending to help the pt stretch jarens legs by coming from the side or behind and he kinda grabs his thigh-like and grips it a little teasingly cus he knows.. it's a little Sensitive. From last night. Well it better be anyways. And his fingers squeeze near that inner thick of the thigh and jaren let's out a jolt and a lil HEY :oO !!!! That makes the pt guy usher ja out (he just thinks they're playin.. has no idea.) (Jaren intends to PLEASE JA. KEEP IT THAT WAY!!!) And ja snorts n snickers n scampers off Knowing that Jaren Knows HE knows. And jarens trying not to giggle, trying to keep his frowny face or roll his eyes like that wasn't anything but annoying. Like his face isn't feeling like a forestfire right now. it's Sick. it's Sickening. . . M o r e.

6. Ja may be WAYYY shorter, but his personality is big. Jaren is WAYYY taller, but his personality is smaller (which is still quite big lol).

HE IS A S H O R T KING!!@@! MAMA AYE!! i belive in his SHORT KING SUPREMACY!!! okay!! Jaren is but a mouse compared to his giant ego. When jaren tries shoving someone it's like... ok little guy. Let's get you to bed. When someone shoves ja it's Uh Oh. For Real. Top girlboss bottom malewife relationship my Beloved. LOVE hearing other's thoughts n comments on players personalities !!!! it's so cool!!

7. I almost view their relationship as a Kyle/DeMar type thing. If that makes sense?? Kyle and Ja are bossy and most people would assume they are both bottoms. But they aren’t. THEIR BIG GUYS ARE.

THIS IS.... I DO NOT GURANTEE UR SAFETY FROM THE KYLE/DEMAR GIRLIES. but i LOVE the idea behind it. Just because a person in the relationship has the fatter ass doesn't mean they can't top ok!!!!! Im so big behind this FLAT ASSES NEED LOVE TOO!!! Shoutout sauce gardner for leading the 2 dimensional bttm booty charge. I believe in you an them bones, my bratty bttm king. anyways... ur mind may be too great for this world... cherish it. Always. Big guys bottomimg... ure so real for this. My sibling in stronghold.

8. Jaren always looking at what Ja shows him on his phone. He’d do anything for that man to be happy (bottom behavior).

YHE PHONE OBSERVATION PLEAAASEEE !!! YES!!!!

Ja just looking up: How Do I Play Papa's Pizzareea On My Phobe. 💯

And jarens smiling and laughing and staring at dreamy like he's watching ja write up their marriage vows. Jaren thumbs up jas memes physically when they don't get thumbed up digitally on reddit. He's his little 6'10 cheerleader and he will live and die by the pompom. Giggling and twirling his hair and kicking his feet and getting all happy to write in his fuzzy pink princess diary abt how ja gave him a Cool and Aloof😎 Signaturely Awesome Sauce 😎 ja head nod of approval when jaren helps him spell restaurant in the Google maps. (Jaren also got it wrong and they were 25 minutes late to the restaurant) (their table was taken but ja took care of it.) (Don't Ask How.) This 6'10 man rlly makes himself SO babygirl all for these little gremlins to ignore or sometimes nod at. It's like snow white and the seven dwarvOKAY IM KIDDING IM SORRY LOL. jarens just so. All of This. Yeah. You really read him like a book 😭😭 caught him spread eagle LMFAO! i YEARN to hear more I REALLY DO!!! DO NOT BE SHY IN REMEMBRANCE........ this is for History. this is for... Ted .

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

hi! i’m not sure if your still doing the ship asks but if ur not just ignore my yapping 😋

i’m a girl, my pronouns are she/her and i’m straight

so appearance wise, i’ve got blonde hair that goes a little past my shoulders. my hair curls naturally but when it gets wet it gets crazy. my skin is tan and i’ve got SO many freckles. on my face and going all up my arms and down to my hands. my eyes are a blue/gray (i can never really tell if it’s one or the other). i’m short 💀 like 5”3. i don’t have any super distinguishing features except a little beauty spot under my right eye, a little bit below my lashes.

i’m glad that you asked for people not to use those letter personality things because i have no idea what they are. in terms of personality, id say ima chill person. i definitely feel instead of think, i try to be nice to everyone but if you do something fucked up then i won’t be mean i just won’t talk to you. i LOVE a girls girl. im a morning person and i like to be outside. im smart. i like to read and learn and school come pretty easy to me. i like asking questions about others more than talking about myself. if i was a character, my friends say i would be a mix of rory gilmore, charlie dalton, and ferb (phineas and ferb).

hobbies: reading (philosophy and history books are my favorite), surfing, photography, collage, rock climbing, drawing during math class (fuck math. i hate math with a passion), beach

fun facts: i’m really good at poker, i scaled my first rock wall when i was six, i run cross country, its easy to make me laugh, my favorite artist is the beatles, my favorite song is either kiss her you fool, or brazil (declan mckenna)

idk what else to put, i appreciate you for this!! i love reading the ships you do for other anons i like peeking into these random people’s lives.

🩵thanks

Your Fandom Ship: Sokka (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Explanation: appearance wise I think that he loves the way that you look I mean from your blonde hair to your face that’s just failed the freckles which he makes a lot of jokes about but I just think he loves it. I just really think that he would like your features. He thinks your eyes are gorgeous and would definitely joke about you being super short. I think he would like poking your beauty mark if you didn’t find that too annoying. He really likes your relaxed personality and it kind of contrast to his in sense of him being a little bit more chaotic and cocky. I feel like he would balance him out and just kind of remind him that he needs to sit back and chill sometimes. he’s also kind of sexist in the beginning and I feel like you’re the kind of person that would also like Suki kind of change his mind and turn him around about how women aren’t really that way, but just being your bad ass women loving self so I just yeah, I feel like he would definitely you would definitely be good for him in that sense. He’s not great with school or learning in general so I think he would be able to help him a lot with that with your kind of academic personality. You’re in luck because I also believe that soccer hates math with a passion and you guys could shit talk for hours on end together and make fun of your math teacher. He would love going rockclimbing with you and surfing with you as well. I think that he’s not very used to the idea of surfing because of where he grew up and kind of icy waters and when you introduce him to him, I can totally see him as being a surfer dude. I think he wouldn’t like reading himself, but if you read him an interesting section of your books, he would be fascinated. Maybe ask you some questions. anyway, I think he’s really goofy and kind of silly more comedic personality would contrast really well with your more serious academic one and I definitely love this dynamic and ship this duo 🧡🧡

[vespertin-y]

morning liveblog! here’s the first half of ch2′s trial!!

-i don’t really like how they did himiko here...like, i get it from a character perspective - she’s in a horribly traumatic situation and frantically burrowing into her only coping mechanism - but i’d bet the reason i never see anyone hate gundham for his chuuni-ness is because kodaka never puts it directly in the way of a trial. having to tediously disprove her claims for twenty minutes does not lead people to be very fond of her.

-HIMIKO’S “NO, THAT’S WRONG!” 😭😭😭 THE SQUEAKIEST SORE WA CHIGAU YO KNOWN TO MAN....

-”wh-why is everyone picking on himiko!? you’re all worse than a drunk dad’s ramblings!” “we should let him vent. after all, it’s plainly tough being man of the house.” ARE ANY OF YOU OKAY??????

- ENG miu says a slur. yayyyyyyyy. i can HEAR her JP voice actress saying ‘baka’, i know ur fucking lying about her NISA!!!! why would you do this!!!!

-i forgot how vocal kirumi is in this trial! she’s really good at leading everyone in circles.

-”that could’ve been anyone walking around in women’s underwear! even me!“ ICONIC line.

-”we’ll scare the culprit until they screw up! that’s how a true class trial works. right, monokuma?” “puhuhu...a development like that *would* liven things up a bit.” “yup, i totes agree.” even this early, he’s already sidling up to monokuma - look at me, aren’t i so entertaining, i’m not a threat to the game at all, wouldn’t it be a shame if i died?

-”guys! i said don’t call me an idiot! it really hurts my feelings!” ok i DO feel bad for him here (the JP actor’s little voice wobble...) but also, he DID just tell them he’d risk all their lives on a *hunch* because obviously someone as awesome and heroic as him could never be wrong, so like,

-[heh...it’s true. that’s not what a class trial is about. you’re supposed to think logically, you can’t let your feelings into it...it’s absurdity, total absurdity. but then again...that absurdity saved me before, right?] BASED BUT WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY IN TRIAL FIVE

-”it’s not like i owe that idiot a favor or anything just because he defended me...but that hopeless idiot may have encouraged me a bit.” “seriously! enough’s enough! stop calling me an idiot!” this is one of the main reasons i dislike kaimaki as a ship, jeez...they want to have maki be a classic tsundere and have her go b-b-b-baka! and smack kaito or whatever, but that doesn’t WORK when being called an idiot digs at one of his greatest insecurities! it’s not charming or cute, it just makes me feel bad for him, and having her blush and be like ‘ur MY idiot tho’ doesn’t make me feel any better.

-monotaro second best monokub. the incest plotline is fucking awful obviously but his “i forgor” bit does occasionally make me laugh which is more than i can say for the others.

-that’s as far as we get before the second half starts - i’ll post that in just a moment!

[shurisneakers-side]

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

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

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

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

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

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

nvm she's me as fuck she can stay

You nod. “Wow.”

pls the disinterest

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

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

Gotta be there early to support Bucky,”

my clown ass for 8 years

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

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

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

IM GIGGLING STOP THIS

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

support ur bestie's loser bf come on now !

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

braid his hair 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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

need him

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

MF DIDNT WASTE A SECOND LMAOOOOO

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

shes cool and smart and supports local artists. literal icon

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

GET HIS ASS STEVE. CORNY LOSER (endearing)

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

he's so lovesick and everyone can see it

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

at least he was kind about it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KJHGKJDFNGDKFJGNDFKJGH OH MY GOLLY BENSONS WEKJHDGKJDFHGDF;G;FKGVGJVSDGR

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

HE DIDNT EVEN CORRECT THE SWEATY PART

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

this is so funnny like it was so casual kjfhgdkfj

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

ma'am--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AY YOOOOO BI BUCKY REP

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HOOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

:(

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

her fully confessing she thinks hes sweet and charming and funny

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

pls i laughed out loud at this

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FINE i will marry you

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

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

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

ksjhfdkjghkjghrkjhgrkjtg

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

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

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

the fuck

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

HMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

nectar, sticky in his throat.

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

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

SHES PANICKING GIRL SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO DEAL

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

im grinning im crying screaming throwing up

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

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

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

hes so cute im crying

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

“I didn't say anything.”

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

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

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

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

DO U WANT ME TO CRY BE HONEST

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

wait thats so cute shut up aw

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

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

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

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

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

call him girl omg get back into the building

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not worried.

oh bc i would be losing my mind rn

a mere play he put on for the free kick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THIS IS MAKING ME SHORTCIRCUIT

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

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

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

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

“But what if it is?”

sound logic soccer boy let's kiss

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

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

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

theyre so boyfrengirlfren coded wdym they arent DATING ET

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

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

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

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

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

stab me why dont u

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

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

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

i will climb you in this car james

His skin flips green.

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

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

INVOKING EEAAO OHHHH YOU ARE SO EVIL FOR THIS ANGIE. I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

FUCKING !!!!! YES!!!! FUINALLY LETS FUCINGG GO!!!!

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

OK CONSENT KING !

“I'll go out with you.”

i can now die happily

also!! your prose was so alight and quick, but there was also so much care that was put into it. like a painting. do you get me. a painting with honey.

tldr; angie marry me we can write a romcom together and i will make u so happy i promise

Flirting and Football- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely can’t remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partner’s book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.

She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises. 

You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.

She doesn’t seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.

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

You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinn’s glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.

“Is he in psychology too?” you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.

“Bucky? Oh no,” she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. “He’s in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.”

You nod. “Wow.”

“I know, oh my god.” She fans herself. “Did I tell you he basically won the last game?”

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

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.”

“Okay then,” you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. “I didn’t go to the last game, so what do I know?”

Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t go?” she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. “Why?”

You shrug. “I had to do something.”

“You have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But don’t fall in love,” she warns with a giggle. “He’s mine.”

“Promise,” you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. “Well, I have to go. This was helpful, though,” you lie.

“Oh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,” Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.

“Right,” you respond, standing. “I hope everything goes well with him,” you say as you walk out.

She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.

It’s cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruce’s contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.

“I hate you so much right now,” you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.

“What? What did I do?”

“‘I’ll be there!’ ‘How could I miss studying physics?’” you mock, imitating his voice. “You left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!”

“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.

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

“Okay, okay, I know. I’m sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.”

“Whatever and ew,” you complain. “And I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“What? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.”

“Don’t worry. The dorm isn’t that far and you’re not exactly the most threatening anyway,” you remind. “I’ll be fine. ”

“Fine. Keep me on the line and be careful,” Bruce tells you.

“Of course,” you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that you’re nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. “How’d it go with Thor today?”

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

“You’re not,” you amend. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am,” Bruce confirms.

“I don’t know how you find the time to juggle everything. It’s kind of terrifying,” you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.

“I know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but it’s the opposite. It’s not juggling if I have help carrying everything.”

You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. “I’m here.”

“Finally.” You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.

“Hey Wanda, Piet.”

Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.

“Okay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?” you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.

“Before the game? Sure,” he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.

“You’re going?” you question. “I thought Thor was benched.”

“He’s off!” There’s a whoop you recognize as Thor’s that makes you smile. “Which is why it’s an important game we need to go to.”

“We?” you echo.

“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.

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

Pietro cuts in, “You have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?”

You purse your lips and squint at him. “Didn’t you guys win last game?”

“Still! Come on, please,” he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.

You search your brain for excuses. “I have things to do.”

“If it’s not ‘stay home and binge a series,’ I'll let you skip,” Bruce chimes.

You frown as the siblings grin.

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

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically. “But I want it noted that it’s only because I really like cookies.” You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.

Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Standing in the middle of students I don’t know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,” you disagree, but she ignores you.

“Even Vis is going,” she argues. “And you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.”

You mutter incoherently.

“We’ll leave at three,” she instructs with a smile.

-

“I could be doing so many useful things right now,” you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.

Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise you’d committed to with a hook of your pinkie, you’d sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.

You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although he’d laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didn’t want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.

The word you’d been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where you’re slumped with your best friend.

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

You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Thank you, Thor.”

“Of course! And you all know Bruce, of course.”

There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. “I, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. “I’m Steve.” He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. “That’s Bucky.”

You smile at them, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. “I meant Steve.” Steve looks startled. “I saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!”

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

You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steve’s surprise takes a second to process.

“Wait, me?” Steve points stupidly at himself. “My art?”

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

“I told you,” Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. “I wish you woulda let me go. I could’ve seen the art and met her sooner.”

His friend sends him a furtive glance. “Is this your first time coming to a game?” Steve wonders as he turns back to you. 

You shake your head. “Pietro is my roommate’s brother and Thor’s my best friend’s boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but it’s my first time being back here.” You gesture to the hall. “I’m usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.”

Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.

Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. “Well, I think you should come around more often.”

You scan him for a second. “Why?” you ask genuinely.

He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thor’s booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. “Duty calls, I guess.”

“So you’ll come around?” He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. “Huh,” he says.

“What?” Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Bucky’s features crease in that way, but he’d prefer hearing it from his friend’s mouth.

“Just… wondering why I’d never seen her before. Pretty.”

“Uh huh.” Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isn’t going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. “‘Thought it was because the line didn’t work,” he finally tells him, catching Bucky’s attention.

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?”

Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

-

The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.

Why you don’t have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but it’s the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle this—the attention, the blushing, the flattery.

The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isn’t on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.

You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.

Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.

“Hey,” he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.

You return it a pause later. “Hey, um—thanks…” you struggle for a second before you’re cut off.

“Bucky!” the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes it’s Quinn, the girl he’d gone out on a date with a while ago. “I saw you on the field yesterday,” she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “You were amazing.”

“I appreciate it,” he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. “I should go, I needed to talk to her,” he starts, acting quickly. “But it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.”

Quinn’s fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. “Thank you!”

Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out again?” She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.

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

“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.

“Hey again,” he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.

“Hey, Bucky.” Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didn’t remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. “It was a good game yesterday.”

“Thank you,” he replies easily. “How was I?”

You cock your head at him. “Fine? You… were a soccer player.”

Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. “He’s asking if he lived up to the stories,” he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. “‘Does another pretty girl think I’m great too?’” he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.

You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. “Stories?” you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation he’s usually welcomed with.

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

Your eyebrows raise. “‘Winter Soldier?’” you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.

“’S my nickname,” Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.

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

Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”

Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. “You wound me, doll.”

“I wound you?” you giggle, unable to help it. “This is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I don’t know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.”

Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”

“Oh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?” you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. “You were fine, I’m sure,” you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. “Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?”

Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. “And me, little flower?”

You roll your eyes. “You were fast. Like always.”

“That’s code for ‘the best out there,’” Pietro tells Bucky.

“I think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,” Bucky retorts, turning back to you. “‘Got a favorite player yet?” He asks you.

You tilt a brow at him. “On the soccer team?”

“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.

“Based off of what?” You counter.

“Anything.”

“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”

Pietro clears his throat loudly.

“What if I get you the best seat possible next game?” Bucky offers.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m good where I am.”

“She barely pays attention anyway,” Wanda informs. “All she does is complain.”

You nod. “And I can do that in any seat.”

“Alright… what if you wear my jersey at the next game?” Bucky continues.

You raise an eyebrow. “And you’re convincing me, right?”

“You should be swooning right now,” Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.

“Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”

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

“Right,” you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. “I gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.” You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“Me too!” Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he can’t see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. “Huh.”

A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. “Nice work,” he lies.

-

Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but it’s exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.

You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.

Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruce’s contact name.

“The thing,” you mumble, remembering Bruce’s insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.

“Hey, are you ready?” Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.

“Sure,” you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is you’re going out with can’t be too picky. “Ready for what again?”

“The team’s win? We’re going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.”

You purse your lips. “Are we going to a bar?”

There’s a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. “...No.”

Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. “Then, yes, I’m ready. I guess.”

“That's great!” Bruce praises. “Because we are outside.”

You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. “We?” you repeat as you look around, confused. “Are Wan and Pietro with you?”

“They’re probably already there. And ‘we’ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.”

You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.

“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”

There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended ‘that bad?’ before you hang up, waving to Bruce’s car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. “Hey, doll, you look great.”

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

“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.

You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize you’ll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.

“You tryna cop a feel? Could’ve just asked,” Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.

“Oh please,” you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. “Excuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isn’t that great of a driver. He’s in his twenties and gets night blindness.”

Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.

“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”

You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you don’t lose it. “How’d you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?” you ask, recalling the nerves with which he’d told you about it a couple of days ago.

“Wonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,” Thor replies cheerily.

“You didn’t even need to,” you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.

“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.

“Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.

“Not the same thing. Not even close.”

You laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you promise. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.

“Hey, how was art today?” you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Bucky’s brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.

“You were right. I was being too judgemental,” Steve sighs. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Listened to who?” Bucky buts in. “How did you know Stevie had art today?” he continues, trying to keep his tone light.

“We talk.” You shrug. 

“Oh,” Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. “Do you?”

“Yes.” You nod before actually yawning that time. “I’m sorry.”

“You should sleep more,” Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.

“I have things to do,” you defend. “I sleep enough, it’s the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,” you defend. “But if it pleases you, I’ll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.” Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.

“It will,” Bucky says.

For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.

He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when you’re so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.

You’re more open than he’s ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he can’t stop staring at you.

Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. “Sorry.”

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

-

The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it weren’t so ridiculously important to him.

He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if you’d come before, only to go unnoticed by him. There’s a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.

The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen before—though he hasn’t seen many looks on your face before—but it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that it’s unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriend—who’s been dubbed Vision—is dangerous. Cocky.

You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companion’s reply.

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

“How’re my favorite geniuses?” Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Bucky’s daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.

“Oh, you know, out-geniusing the other,” you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.

“Hey Dolly,” he smiles. “I thought you had too many books to read to go out.”

“I finished them all,” you respond. “And ‘Dolly’? How old are you?”

Bucky clicks his tongue. “What would you prefer, sweetheart?”

“My name,” you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. “Do you remember it? I imagine it’s hard to keep track.”

“Of course I remember.” Bucky scoffs. “I don’t think I could forget.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Right, I’d imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.”

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

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.

Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you criticise.

His hand drops and he pouts. “C’mon, pretty please.”

“Do you know what music you swing dance to?” you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. “Because this isn’t it.”

“I need to take advantage of the fact that you’re here, doll. You said so yourself you don’t go out much,” he complains. 

“Yeah, this is why!” you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.

“What?!” Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he can’t make out. When you realize he can’t hear you, you give him a pout.

“And I was just about to say yes,” you say sadly.

“Wha—” Bucky’s cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. “I have to check that out. I’ll be right back!” he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.

When he comes back, you’re gone.

The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.

-

You’re in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your book’s cover. You’re a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.

You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what you’re reading.

“So, you’re actually here, huh?” he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. “Sorry.”

“Why are you here?” you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.

“Anyone can come to the library.” Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.

“Yes. Why are you here? With me? You didn’t know my name until, like, two days ago.” You’re careful to keep your voice down.

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

“Did we?” you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.

“And, how do you know we don’t just have alternating study days?” Bucky points out.

“I am here every day,” you inform. “And if that were the case, why would you be here right now?” you rebut. “What would you be studying for? Coaching?”

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

You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. “What? Quinn said you were in… sports.”

“Well,” Bucky sucks in a breath as if what he’s about to tell you is a revelation. “Soccer is a sport.”

“I know,” you affirm blandly. “But are you actually in biomedical?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “What, do you not believe me?” he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.”

“I’m just surprised. You’ve never talked about it before.”

“We’ve talked four times,” Bucky points out. “Although I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.”

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

“I wouldn’t say that—”

You laugh quietly. “Sure.”

“But I like you,” Bucky explains, shrugging. “You’re smart and pretty and you interest me.”

You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. “You are so much better at this than I thought you were.”

“Sorry?”

“At first, I was like ‘this guy? This is the Becky people won’t shut up about?’”

“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.

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

Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. “Oh my god, you’re doing it now.”

“Sweetheart, it’s something that just happens naturally, I’m not doing anything.”

You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. “You are insufferable.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet.

You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.”

“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”

“I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.

“Alright, so if I talk to you more, you’ll go out with me?”

You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t… I’m not liking where this is going.”

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

“Oh, I was right,” you groan. “I just mean you don’t know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.”

“I will know all of that,” he pledges.

You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”

A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. “Bucky,” he says archly.

-

You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 

It’s hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.

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

He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if it’s a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didn’t make you smile so much.

He doesn’t get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.

You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because you’re finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.

Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that you’re heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and you’ve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.

You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isn’t getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. You’re alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.

It’s three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.

A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and you’re on the verge of running.

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

A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that it’s only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.

“You scared me,” you whisper. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”

“I'm sorry,” he replies sincerely. “I didn’t think—”

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

Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if you’d awoken. He doesn’t startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.

“My computer,” you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.

Bucky doesn’t pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones you’d stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.

“I should get going,” you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.

It’s silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Bucky’s hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he could’ve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.

You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if you’ll burst into tears spontaneously. 

“I was attacked once.” Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. “Walking home from the library,” you explain. “It’s why Bruce doesn’t like me walking home alone.”

“You… someone…” Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Why?” It’s painfully incredulous.

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

“I'm sorry,” Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.

“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it,” you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“For scaring you,” Bucky insists sincerely. “For the fact that it happened in the first place.” You don’t respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.

“It really wasn’t as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,” you palliate. “He hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.”

Bucky’s frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.

“So, why’d you come get me? How’d you know I was only on my way?” you chime suddenly.

“I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. “So you drove to find me?”

“Technically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so let’s go with it.” Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.

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

He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. You’re already looking at him, softer in your gaze than he’s ever seen you.

He hums inquisitively. “You think I'm charming and funny and sweet?”

You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. “I think—” you inhale in relief. “We’re here.”

Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.

“Thank you,” you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.

You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. “So, you wanna do that again soon?”

You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. “Do what again?”

He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesn’t fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. “It's the bronze one—no, the other one. How do you not—”

The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Bucky’s face.

“Thanks,” you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after you’ve set your things down and he’s not following behind you like you thought he would be. “What’re you doing?”

“You have to invite me in,” he explains.

“What, like a vampire?”

He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”

You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.

“It's cold out here,” he reminds.

“Maybe you should go home then,” you suggest.

His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.

“Or. Come inside.” At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. “Do you want to come in? You’re welcome to.” I want you to.

He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. “Really?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. “Yeah. Just come on in already. It’s cold outside, dummy.”

-

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

You’d rather not admit it, but it’s hard not to—not when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You can’t help the smiles when he “coincidentally” bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.

His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sister’s favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.

It's infuriating, you think, but you don’t mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

“I like the ocean,” you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen you’d lent him two weeks ago. “It’s the reason why my favorite color is blue.”

His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. “‘Thought it was because of my eyes.”

You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. “I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,” you tell him. “And mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,” You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.

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

You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what you’ve given him.

“You collect those squished pennies, right?” Bucky asks. 

You’re startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. “Uh—yeah. Why?” 

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

It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. “Thank you,” you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. “This is really nice of you.”

“It’s not big deal,” Bucky shrugs. “I just thought you’d like it.”

Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see it’s time for you to leave. “I gotta go,” you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” you begin.

“I want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.”

You nod along. “Right.” 

He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.

You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.

“Does Sam still have your car?” you ask as you leave the library.

“Yup. One more week, he says.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Well, he’s been saying that for two, so…”

You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.

Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutique’s window. “There’s a sale at the bookstore!”

“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.

You nod. “Can we?”

“Sure, we’ll just leave the library a little earlier,” Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.

“Someone’s sure of themselves,” you tease. “You’re walking me home tomorrow, too?”

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

Your jests die on your tongue as you realize he’s right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog you’d pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.

“Weeks,” you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 

You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?”

A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”

“Why have you been walking me home every day for months?”

“‘Thought it was weeks?”

“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.

He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms don’t let you believe that. “I don't want you to walk alone.” Then, “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Shocked pupils dart around wildly and it’s difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determination—open, honest. “Thank you.”

He smiles and it’s soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.

Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize you’ve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.

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

“Wait—” he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.

You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.

You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.

-

Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.

No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.

He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. He’s memorized the genuine curve of your lips when he’s said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesn’t know this.

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

He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if you’d fallen in love or something. You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.

He’s aware he’s a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he can’t pretend like it doesn’t inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.

He wonders if it clogs words up in yours—if it’s the reason you’re so quiet.

You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. There’s a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you don’t completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. You’re struggling with something but he can’t figure out what.

Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.

“What?” you blurt. It’s louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.

He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but it’s vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose. 

“I'm hungry,” you complain, ignoring his compliment.

“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.

“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”

“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.

“I can pay. It’s my food.”

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

You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”

Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”

You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.

Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.

Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.

“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.

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

“Yeah?”

Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.

“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”

You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.

“I have to go.”

“What? We just got here.”

“I have an appointment.”

“For what?”

“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.

“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”

You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.

Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.

“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”

“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”

“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.

Bruce stares at you.

You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”

“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”

Your shoulders drop.

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

“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.

Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”

“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”

His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.

“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”

“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.

You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 

-

For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.

The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.

Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.

You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.

You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.

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

The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.

Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”

Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.

“What? Why?”

Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”

“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 

You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.

“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.

You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”

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

Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”

“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.

You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.

He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”

As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.

He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.

You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.

You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”

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

-

You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.

The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 

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

It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.

Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.

You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.

Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.

Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.

“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 

“What? Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”

“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”

You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”

You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”

“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.

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

“B-both of us.”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”

There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”

You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.

There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.

You need to get home. You can’t move.

You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.

Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”

It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.

“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”

It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.

You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.

You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 

Bucky pulls you back in.

“Will you take me home?”

His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.

Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.

Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.

“Why?”

You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."

“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”

He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”

His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.

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

“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”

“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.

You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”

His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”

-

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

The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.

With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.

Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.

It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.

You’re not worried.

Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.

So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.

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

You’re not worried.

Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.

“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.

“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”

It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”

“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”

“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.

“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”

Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.

Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.

“I told you,” you tell her.

“He’s limping,” she points out.

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

He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.

You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.

It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.

Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.

“Hey, what’re you—”

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

“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.

You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.

“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.

“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”

“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.

He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”

“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”

His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”

“Not yet!” he proclaims.

You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.

“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.

-

You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.

He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.

He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.

If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.

He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”

You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”

“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”

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

“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”

“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.

“No.”

“Not even guys you like?”

“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”

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

You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?

I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”

Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”

“You don’t think I should?”

“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”

Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”

“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”

You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.

Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”

You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”

“I try.”

You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”

You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”

“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”

The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.

You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.

“Will you?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”

“Give it a chance.”

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

You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.

Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.

-

You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.

There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.

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

It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.

You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.

You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.

You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.

He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 

Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.

“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.

When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.

“Yeah?” he responds finally.

“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.

“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”

You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.

“See?” You say accusatorily. 

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

That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 

“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”

“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”

“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”

She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”

“You talk about me to your friends?”

You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”

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

You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”

“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”

You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.

“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”

You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.

“Thank you.”

You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.

You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.

“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”

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

You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 

You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.

Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.

“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”

He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.

Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.

Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.

“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”

“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”

“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.

You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.

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

He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.

“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.

Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”

“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”

Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.

“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”

“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.

“Yes. It was a good day today.” 

You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.

You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.

Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”

Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be different.”

“How?” His brows are furrowed.

You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”

“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.

“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”

The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.

His skin flips green.

You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.

It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.

He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.

You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”

He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.

“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”

He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.

You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.

“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.

He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”

You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.

“I'll go out with you.”

His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey

[061801]

Ok so I wasn’t gunna do a lot of typing but I really feel some type of way about the guy I’m kinda seeing. We’ve been friends for a long time and I’ve seen him do things to others so I know how he is. I’ve never taken him seriously because of it. But that was years ago and I guess I trusted him because he is a very honest person and admits random things to me that most people wouldn’t so idk I do feel like he is genuine for the most part. However we just live 2 totally different kind of lives, we’re over 10 years apart. I am honestly convinced he thinks I am so naive and vulnerable that he expects me to just say yes and nod my head and follow whatever he says. Even though he says he’s trying not to control me and he knows I can do whatever I want; he throws in side comments like “girls who do that have no lives, girls that do that will never get a bf” etc “but if that’s what u wanna do I’m not gunna stop u” and when I get pressed he’s like ur choosing to be offended like ya im trying to find a career and the guy I like sounds like he’s insinuating that that’s how ill end up. Even tho he’s not specifically saying those words I am not gunna sit here and act dumb and say that’s not how he is predicting id turn out if I worked certain jobs.

Anyway that’s just one other argument we get into. The second most recent one wasn’t really his fault. I woke up and he wasn’t in bed next to me and he had told me before he would go up to the couch and text his ex when he was with his other ex and I’m not really the type of girl to sit here like a fool over it I’ll fuckin leave so I unfortunately figured that was what he was doing cuz I didn’t have sex with him the night prior and I went home at like 5 am. It wasn’t dramatic I didn’t argue with him I just left and he woke up and heard me. He ended things with me cuz he apparently wants to work on his religion and end up marrying another woman; that’s a whole other fucking thing. We’ve always been fwb but it’s been more serious lately and I thought maybe he’d lean away from that option but he’s still planning on it so I argue with him like wtf am I here for just to fill the void??? What’s the point and he’s like just enjoy it while it lasts. I guess but I don’t wanna waste time with someone who isn’t even gunna wife me. Anyway he said he missed me after almost a week and he wanted to see me so we hung out all that. I went to my home town with my friend and for no reason he goes i think I’m in between something here I’m weirded out. And I’m like literally what makes u think ur in between something and he’s like he (my friend) wants u so bad he’s ur sugar daddy and I know that’s what u want. Another back handed fucking comment. The way I talk about girls who have sugar daddies and don’t work is negative and he talks about them the same way. So for him to refer me as one of those girls and saying I wanna be like that is insane. And he’s like whattttt I just want you to be happy so I want you to have what makes you happy how am I being a bad guy !??!?!?! Like you’re fucking saying I’d be happy mooching off someone which i have never fucking said i would actually do. The fact you look at me that way is crazy. And he’s like ur the one taking offence that’s not my fault like buddy if I sit here and say I know u only rly get with average girls…. Whattttt I know u like average girls so that’s just what u dooooooo like fuck out of here u know what ur saying is back handed and I fucking can’t stand people who play like they aren’t. They know what they’re doing. So when I start getting all riled up about it first of all he said he was just asking if he was in the way, he didn’t ask. He said HE FELT like he was. He was basically saying that is his opinion. I’m having a good time 3 hours away and you want to basically start up some debate about how you think you are and how I explain to you for the 7th time that you’re wrong. If you feel that way then leave, secondly if I wasn’t someone ur just gunna leave as soon as u find what u need in life then I would go out of my way to make sure you don’t feel like ur in between something but I can’t take it that serious. He always says we’re not together but you’re my girl and I used to love that but like nah u don’t like when I do certain things but u don’t wanna stay with me so why am I obeying someone who’s gunna leave me lol. He says if I don’t listen to him then my life’s gunna spiral down. I need to prove to this guy that he’s wrong. So after he makes me mad cuz he knows what he’s doing and just refuses to admit it; he says you exploded and u need to enjoy ur trip. Why u wanna spend ur trip mad? BITCH I DONT U FUXKING WANTED TO START AND I EXPLAINED MYSELF CUZ U GOT ME FUCKED UP AND NOW U JUST WANNA GHOST THE SITUATION AS IF U DIDNT FUCKIN STIR THE POT like bye bye bye bye bye

[jwnzlvr]

okay I needa rant- and ur the only person who I wanna rant to (sorry..)

AIGHT SO- TELL. ME IF IM THE BAD GUY. PLEASE (also if u don’t wanna read this just ignore it I’ll totally understand)

I had this problem back that all occurred because of this breakup (I broke up with him because I wasn’t mentally okay and I wasn’t going to be in a relationship with someone, who’s feeling 100 percent into this, while I’m not.) and a huge fight ensued, but we’re not here for that. We’re here for a problem that happened AFTER this, but with the same people. now I have two really close best friends, Shae and Sonya. Now, throughout this whole ordeal with the breakup and the aftermath, Shae and Sonya were MY ROCKS. My family at this point. And one day, (there are three girls, Ash, Bella and Trinity and I wasn’t like, beefing with them, but the vibe between me and them was not like the vibe we usually got going on- strained in other words) Ash, Bella and Trinity apologise for the way the whole breakup went down and we were all goods. I told Shae and Sonya (who both said to me that if I was to forgive these three people, that would be my choice but they wouldn’t because of what they said to me and with other issues they have with them and I was like 👍) that was all goods with the three girls and Shae, she was like, all goods, but Sonya was iffy with it but I did not care.

Timeskip, im smoking with these three girls, (and I know I keep saying girls but we all the same age), getting stoned and having a nice time and somehow Shae and Sonya find out and unlike Shae (who did not care), Sonya was like “why you smoking with them?” And I’m like “because we are all friends again and we’ve smoked before” and Sonya did not like that and was like “but they literally lied to you about ___ killing himself because of your breakup” and I’m like “well guess what, they genuinely feel sorry and I know that may sound like I’m naive but they had their reasons because of how he deadass acted once I broke up with him” and proceeded to tell her that I’m okay with them now and Sonya was not having it and was not listening to me so i left the conversation and we haven’t spoken in like 3 weeks. Then, every time I hung out with Shae she’d shit talk about the three girls and how i shouldn’t trust them, and that they’ll gaslight me and manipulate me into telling them all my deepest, darkest secrets and will use that against me in future arguments which is like WHAT THE- and I’d got tired of it and I was joking about it with the three girls once when I was stoned and after that I kind of started avoiding her and now we aren’t talking and I’m just wondering if I did the wrong thing.

We also had a screaming match too.

SORRY FOR THIS YOU DONT HAVE TO READ IF YOU DONT WANT TO.

i’m gonna answer this solely bc i feel like one of those “aita for ____?” i would say go to reddit for answers but im a gossiper. i will read it all.

personally, the moment id find out those 3 lied to me about something so serious id have cut them off. i don’t care about apologies when it’s something this serious. like you can’t joke about that and i don’t think it was okay at all for them to do that.

i kinda get where sonya and shae are coming from. i know it seems like they’re just trying to get on your ass for no reason but like they’re looking out for you. and yeah, they might be right about the manipulating/gaslighting later on backfiring on you. i’m not saying ghost the 3 girls, i just think it’d be good if u kept contact to a minimum.

you didn’t exactly do the wrong thing bc sometimes u just need some time apart to reconsider. but yeah i’d listen to her and sonya.

[cocoartistwrites]

:(( thank you for being so nice!! i’m sorry u had a weird/bad experience too.

i thjnk i feel so sad about it because i feel a bit used. like i said, he was really nice during & before. but he finished kind of quickly (maybe? idk) and then he just left. he’s two years older, in college, and i’ve liked him forever. he usually dates girls that are a lot prettier. but i knew that before so it’s probably not fair to say “used”. he’s a decent guy. i dont feel like i can tell my friends because my closest ones both lost theirs to their long term bf, and me & the guy aren’t even dating casually. i would feel kind of lame or desperate if i told them i did it like that.

thank you, sorry again this is so personal haha. i really like ur advice “column” 💜

There is no nice or easy way to say that that is, unfortunately, an experience that I do think so many of us share. A disappointment, the disappointment weighing so heavily. It’s a let down. You wanted more. I wanted more. So what I will say, which I wish I’d known and believed and not bought into the cool girl tv trope shit is: demand better. You didn’t really deserve that. Tell him. You don’t have to be loud about it. You can quietly and nicely say: this wasn’t great for me and I deserved more from this.

I’ve been thinking about your message so much and I wasn’t sure how to express that and I realise that too is part of the not being able to want. I wish I’d know at your age that I could just say I wanted more. I feel like I’ve felt so much of my life making myself and my needs and my wants less for men. I’m so sorry for my younger self - an urge I still have - who always wanted to be the cool accommodating easy-going girl. I’m not! Expressing what you want is an ongoing nightmare so start well. Start priorising you.

He left? Fuck this guy man. What a total dick. Tell him. You owe him nothing. It’s not lame or desperate to want your early sexual exploration to be respected.

I would also add: he obviously didn’t go down on you or work on your own orgasm. Many men won’t. A hard battle will be learning to ask for it. But also just bc he’s older doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing. Next time you take someone to bed, tell them what you want a bit? You get into it, though I’ve always found it hard. I’ve always wanted people to know like they would in a novel. They won’t. Teach them how you need to be touched. Gently, then more. Straight in with it. Whatever you need. It is important and it does matter but you have this whole thing ahead of learning to be at least partially responsible for you own pleasure.

Look: he didn’t do it right. You deserved more. Ideally you will find it. I really want that for you. Realistically you are going to have to learn how to create that for yourself as well: ask more, verbalise more, learn more. That gets easier.

As for he dates prettier girls - that mentality has got me nowhere except finding out people I vibed with but didn’t have the confidence to go for really fancied me. You have no idea how you come across to other people. Let them be the judge of it you’re hot. I am literally right now texting an insanely handsome ex pro footballer turned masseuse I didn’t have the balls to seduce when he came to give me a massage but actually obviously despite him seeing my full naked body does fancy me. Looks are so minor. Vibe is really everything and only gets more important. Don’t get in your own way.