#its a lot of baggage to carry but hes getting there

[itafushin]

Do you have headcanons about macaque's recovering process from bpd and his copying skills (like about holding back extreme emotions or apathy, how does he regularly motivates himself to keep healing and so on)?

thats honestly a really good question...strap in, its a long one

macaque is definitely prone to bad spirals and bad episodes, as evident in the show, and he tends to internalize a lot of it and lash out in aggression. because of that i feel like starting the healing process was really hard for him. with lbd off his back and a lot more free time, im sure he thought alot about the things he did in the last few centuries. he probably stayed holed up in his dojo for a good while after the lbd stuff and just...thought. all that thinking led to spirals and breakdowns and he spent that time crying more than hes ever cried in his life. but afterwards i think he felt fine, stagnant even, and thats when he finally decided he could move on.

its hard giving up your fp and if hes anything like me im sure he didnt want to let go. he didnt want to break off those ties he had with wukong because those were familiar, safe. he fell back onto bad habits a lot, (i headcanon that he has s/h stims and he pulls on his fur when hes really stressed which adds to his bald spots), and found himself in spots where he felt the urge to go and fight wukong again, like before. during times like these his shadows are actually really helpful ! they help ground him and im sure rumble and savage help talk him through his breakdowns when theyre alone together. they help drive him to keep going, i think, because they know as well as he does that he needs this.

i think mk is another big motivator for macaque too, if not the biggest. he cares about mk so much, way more than he was ever expecting to, and i think he does hold some guilt and remorse about the way he treated mk. he wants to repair their relationship and actually become friends in the genuine way that mks friends with everyone else. and mac knows he cant get that if hes still holding onto the past, ya know. he wants to be someone mk could go to when wukong isn't available (he makes that...very very clear its honestly a little endearing) so i think he always thinks about mk while hes going through the process of healing.

and honestly, repairing his friendship with wukong could be something of a motivator too. he wants them to have something thats normal, im assuming, and maybe thats why he hangs around ffm still. but its also a little bit of a bittersweet memory of sorts, to see everything still as it was. to see bits of him still there.

with the holding back extreme emotions, macaque is the type to bottle everything up util he explodes. which isnt...healthy AJVKSKCJ i think overtime and mk exposure showed him its okay to feel those things...its okay to cry and to be upset and to just. be a person...obviously he only ever lets himself feel those things in the privacy of his dojo but hey, at least its something !

he does have set backs, as everyone does because healing isnt linear, and he still has days where its almost like hes back to being that hard-headed smartass trying to kill everyone...but i think now its a bit easier to deal with those days because he has a support system. he has people to rely on that wont shun him away, even if things are rocky between them all. but hes trying and he'll keep trying because as much as he lets it on, i dont think he actually enjoys being alone as much.

#🏮 #shadow talks #I HOPE THIS ANSWERED YOUR QUESTION ANON #alot of my headcanons and thoughts about bpd macaque are big big projections so if you squint reeeeeeally hard #youll figure out how /i/ deal with my bpd #its hard on macaque i think. to deal with this #its a lot of baggage to carry but hes getting there #its all in the baby steps #i dont think he cut off his fp relationship with wukong until the very end actually...i think he works on finding himself first #because cutting that kind of relationship even if in order to replace it with something else is so so hard and so so soul crushing #i think macaque wanted to keep wukong as close as possible even if it was one sided just in case he didnt like who he found in place #of himself #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk macaque #lmk mk #lmk wukong #the six eared macaque

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

#I JUST- SHDIAUDJSHDSHEYEYRYRYRY guys. guys #i know none of you see my vision and thats okay. i will make you see my vision. i will force you to see my vision. i will- #like jesus fucking christ oh my god. its so interesting and gives me so many emotions and just!!! #i know im not making sense bc none of my moots are sui sq fans and also like half of the content fucking me up specifically here is in my #head because i cant stop thinking about my absolute power fix it au but like!!!!!!! #also the fact i have a fix it for a comic that isnt out yet is so funny to me. its literally fucking real though. god knows we need it #may my own content carry me through the dark times (extreme villain waller arc) #anyways this fucks me up so bad you dont even know. someday ill actually explain it #dc hire me to write a suicide squad ongoing PLEASE. i could do it so good it would be so fucking good dc PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #also like this isnt me shipping them btw. like 110% not that. just to clarify. #i wouldnt even call it a friendship bc like. theyre not friends really. he has the most equal dynamic with her i would say but it still isnt #equal. shes v much his boss even though they have an understanding and respect there #like she believes and trusts in him much more than anybody really even himself. like she sees the good man and the leader even when he #doesnt. but she isnt nice about it. and there is a lot of conflict between them when there needs to be #like as much as ben is “wallers man”--the team leader she wanted from the beginning before rick flagg pushed his way in #ben i would say is still a very moral person even when lost and unsure of himself and his goodness (which is like one of his main things) #like i feel like while amanda can lean very into a “the ends justify the means” mindset in her worse moments and do bad things to get #herself out of a corner ben has like a deep and meaningful understanding of how the choices of your methods and how you act can weigh on you #like even though he was brainwashed and whatnot (thats still the story right? i cant remember) he holds a lot of guilt and baggage over his #actions and i think is able to temper amanda's worse tendencies in terms of that by calling her out when he recognizes that behavior #idk. i just really think that amanda waller and the suicide squad as a whole has lost its way without a more moral authority presence there. #like someone who can call her out and keep them more on track. which i really thing ben is and could be #i just very much am interested in their dynamic and how that would look like as equals and how i think they could help each other. #which ofc is what my wip is about and revolves around #blah #sui sq

[mangosmoothiepussyv3]

its over isnt it, why cant i move on?

#personal #been thinking about my ex a lot #probably bcus theyre birthday is coming up #ive been getting a lot of reminders of them #so ive been nonstop listening to this song #i spent so many years of my life with them #from 16 to 20! #so many years!!! #so of course it's gonna take awhile to move on #i dont wanna tell my bf about this bcus i dont want to hurt him #or smthing #idk its a mess #I'm carrying so much baggage from my previous relationship #i get so worried that hes cheating on me like my ex did

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I Can Go Anywhere I Want- Just Not Home | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. I've been BUSY with school and this one took fucking forever. But it means a lot to me, I hope you like it. :)

Word count: 13.3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: do me a favor and pretend Bucky didn't disappear in the blip. ok thanks bye.

Warnings: talk of financial struggles, food insecurity, housing insecurity

A familiar shape stepped onto the sidewalk just ahead, freeing itself from the shadows of a rundown motel. The lines and curves of this body forced your heart into your throat. Time seemed to stop. The world round you ceased its turning. You’d know those broad shoulders anywhere, and you’d remember that sharp jaw even after your soul left this mortal coil. 

You stood there, your feet rooted in the concrete, watching him with a longing that tore through your chest. How long had it been since you last saw him? How many months had passed since you last spoke? You made yourself stop counting the days long ago; it was too depressing, too pathetic. But while you forced your brain not to continue the tally, your heart kept count. 

His sudden motion caught your attention, pulling you from your thoughts. The shape that once resembled home headed down the street, slipping through your fingers a second time. But you couldn’t let him get away- not again. 

Even after you freed your feet and increased your pace, he remained ahead. His long legs carried him away from you as he glided past people on the sidewalk. His hands rested in his pockets, concealing his trademark from the world. His head bowed forward, he kept his gaze down. He didn’t want to catch the eye of the public. But he caught yours. 

“Bucky?” your call came out a desperate plea. Blowing his cover wasn’t your goal, but he was too fast. You had to stop him before he vanished again.

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice. You could’ve sworn you saw his head fall another inch or two, as though he were disappointed to know you’d found him.

But he turned. And for the first time in almost a year, he faced you. 

“Bucky.” It wasn’t a question this time, but an affirmation. A reassurance. An unstoppable smile pulled at your lips, a sigh of relief left your chest. You almost wept. “Hi…” 

The darkness that clouded your mind in his absence parted all at once, making way for a golden glow of twinkling lights. You hadn’t seen him since the battle. Since the shimmering portals. Since everyone returned home after Thanos fell. 

He simply stopped answering your calls. Your texts. He didn’t return your voicemails. 

To this day, you wondered what you did wrong. What you did that pushed him so far away. It wasn’t like him to ice you out, to cut you off without warning. He had baggage, sure, but he never shied away from you. Not like this. At one time, you were his closest friend. His most trusted confidante. And he was yours. You spent every moment together, taking shelter in each other. But not anymore. 

Each night, you recounted the last time you saw him. You analyzed every detail, scrutinizing the minutiae of the interaction. Maybe you said something that offended him. Maybe you did something hurtful. But no matter how hard you wracked your brain, not one single red flag made an appearance. And it made Bucky’s sudden disappearance from your life all the more maddening. More hurtful.

Sometimes, you liked to think that he just used you. That he got what he needed from you and moved on. It somehow softened the blow of his loss. Painting him as a manipulator took the blame off your shoulders and made him the villain. But you could never convince yourself of this narrative for long. Bucky wasn’t the type of person to use others. He gave and gave until he had nothing left. Or until he left.

With a few strides, you closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s so good to see you, Buck,” your instinctive reach for a hug left your arms hanging in the air as he took a small step back. It was then you realized just how embarrassing it was to drop your arms to your sides after an unwanted embrace.

“Hey- hi,” he cleared his throat and cut his eyes to the side, almost like he couldn’t bear to look at you. He stared at the passing cars, the flier-covered streetlight. Anything to keep his gaze from lingering on you. He wasn’t sure he had the strength. 

But he couldn’t help himself- he had to look at you. And as his eyes finally landed on yours, a familiar warmth sliced through his trepidations. He’d been aching for so long now; he’d didn’t know what a life without pain felt like. Every day, he hurt. He suffered. But the biting agony stilled as he stared at you. 

His lungs filled to capacity for the first time in months. The knots in his stomach untangled themselves. He’d forgotten how light he felt around you. You had a way of making things feel so easy, so simple. Everything in his life was complicated, and each day grew more difficult than the last. No matter how hard he tried, he never quite got his head above water. But with you standing there before him, he broke through the surface for the first time in ages.

He drank you in for a long moment, taking inventory of the ways you’d changed, and the ways you’d stayed the same. Your radiant smile still poked dimples into your cheeks. Freckles still splashed across your skin. But he noted the all too familiar braid in which your hair was twisted. The letter ‘N’ dangling from a dainty gold chain around your neck.  

Bucky knew losing Nat wasn’t easy on you. Knew that you’d been mourning her all on your own. He should’ve been there for you, should’ve been your shoulder to cry on. He hated himself every day for making you go it alone.

“It’s um,” Bucky didn’t know where to start. “It’s been a while…”

A quiet, awkward laugh rasped out of your throat at his understatement, “Yeah, you could say that.” 

A long pause forced its way between you. Things with Bucky never used to be this awkward, this tense. He was nearly a stranger now. And it killed you. Your friendship always flowed without difficulty, without pressure. It became second nature. The two of you moved together almost as though choreographed, anticipating the other’s actions instinctually.

But those instincts died and were buried, along with your hope of ever patching things up.

“Um, are you- where are you headed?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“I was just gonna- I thought I’d grab some breakfast.”

“Oh! Me too!” Finally, you had something in common. “Can I-” you quickly rephrased, fearing you may scare him off. “Do you wanna go together? Maybe we could catch up?” You knew you were throwing yourself at him, but you couldn’t stop. You were so overwhelmed, so desperate to be near him; you didn’t care how crazed you seemed. 

Bucky’s shy smile made an appearance, “Yeah, that would be nice.” He kicked himself for not appearing more excited, more overjoyed by the reunion. But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything other than anxious. 

The walk to the diner was less awkward than you anticipated. The conversation flowed a little smoother, the words came a little easier. But it was still clunky. And though more silence than you would’ve liked hung in the air, you breathed easier knowing that he was merely a few inches away. 

Things between you simply needed to thaw. You needed to shake the rust off and find your way back into the groove you carved out for one another. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I thought you said you were getting breakfast,” you joked, “not just coffee.” You sat across from Bucky in a beat-up booth, it’s cracked, torn vinyl dating the restaurant. When the waitress asked for your order, Bucky insisted you go first. And when you’d finished rattling off your perfect breakfast, Bucky dismissed her with a “nothing for me.”

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, “I’m not really hungry anymore.”

“Wow, I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on people,” you said, only half-joking. Maybe he really did hate you, after all. The months of dead silence suggested as much. 

More often than not, you tried lived in denial. You told yourself any lie you could come up with- anything to ease the pain of missing him. Even after his less than enthusiastic reaction to your reunion, you buried your head in the sand. Surely, he was just surprised to see you. He just needed some time to warm up, to come out of his shell.

But he only ordered coffee; clearly, he didn’t plan on staying long. He had an escape strategy locked and loaded. You knew he planned to fulfill your request for a catch-up session and run for the hills as soon as he emptied his mug. Upon your realization, everything came crashing down. His scant order slapped you with the cold hard facts: he’d cut off all communication, ignored you for months, and seemed to lose his appetite at the very prospect of sharing a meal with you. 

Maybe missing him was a waste of your time.

“No, it’s not like that,” very real concern coated Bucky’s words. “I’m so- I’m really happy to see you.” 

His fingers twitched as the logical side of his brain shut down his attempt to touch you. All he wanted to do was reach out and rest a hand atop yours, maybe stroke your knuckles a few times. It was something he used to do all the time, something that, at one point, reassured the both of you. But things were different these days. He didn’t have the right to be so familiar with you, not after he chose to make himself a stranger. 

He gripped his coffee mug with both hands, stemming any impulses to reach for you. “How have you been?”

There’d been a time when you would’ve told him everything. You would’ve spilled your soul and let loose every ugly detail of your life. Being honest with each other used to be easy. Neither one of you had to fear judgment or ridicule; you were safe in the other’s hands.

But those days were long gone. He clearly didn’t want to be your best friend anymore- he barely wanted to know you at all. He was, at most, an acquaintance whose soul used to be tied to yours. And so, you opted to forego the truth. You didn’t tell him that you cried yourself to sleep most nights. You didn’t tell him that you missed him so badly it caused you physical pain. You didn’t tell him that you needed him. Instead, you gave him what he wanted: an easy, canned response.

“I’ve been good,” you forced a smile to your face and shrugged. “Just been working, doing the whole SWORD thing.”

He raised his brow, “Oh, wow. You work for SWORD now? I had no idea. Good for you.” 

He feared his feigned surprise came off too fake, too forced. But you didn’t seem to clock it. You really believed that he was out of the loop, but you should’ve known better. It was ludicrous to think he’d ever be uninformed about your life. Of course, he already knew you worked for SWORD He knew that you moved into a new apartment. He even knew that you were planning on adopting a cat soon. He asked Sam about you almost daily, scrounging for any details he could get. 

He just needed to know that you were okay, that you were safe. And happy. 

“Yeah, I started a few months ago. It’s been-” You paused a moment, allowing the waitress to set down your food. The table in front of Bucky looked so empty; with no food anchoring him to the restaurant, he could leave at any moment. “It’s been alright. But how about you? What have you been up to?”

He took a moment to formulate his response. He needed to be careful. Precise. Allowing too much to slip could ruin everything. “I’ve just been working with Sam,” he shrugged. “We had to take care of that whole Flag Smashers thing.”

“I saw that!” you said, your mouth full of pancakes. “You guys did a great job.”

“Thanks, yeah,” Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink. “And I had my pardon hearing.”

You nodded, “I watched all the news coverage about it.”

He forced his eyes down to his mug; he never used to get embarrassed around you. “You did?”

“Of course.”

Bucky wanted you there that day. He wanted to rest his hand in yours and experience the peace only you could provide as he waited for the judge to call his name. And when he finally received his pardon, he wanted to turn around and see you- wide smile, eyes brimming with happy tears. He wanted to wrap his body around yours and thank you for being his rock. 

But he didn’t invite you along.

He, instead, sat alone in the hall, with no one to hold his shaking hand, until a bailiff ushered him into the courtroom. Sam wanted to be there, but his nephew begged Captain America to make an appearance for Bring Your Dad to Work Day. And who was he to say no?

When the judge awarded Bucky his pardon, no one cheered. No one ran to his side and granted him a congratulatory hug. He collected his papers and made his way out of the courthouse. Alone. 

He got a heap of texts and calls from you that day, though. He watched his phone ring with your name and picture taking up his screen. He poured over your kind texts and listened to your congratulatory voicemails. Even after he shut you out, you made sure he knew that you supported him. That you still cared. But he didn’t return your messages.

He did, however, listen to your voicemails on a loop. Hearing your voice again gave him an escape, a life preserver. You’d never know how much those messages meant, how often they saved him. He promised himself he’d tell you- one day.

 “Honestly, you shouldn’t have even needed a pardon,” you said with an eyeroll. “I mean, you didn’t do anything. None of it was your fault.”

Bucky had nearly forgotten how unabashedly supportive you were. How you were always on his side, no matter what. He wondered why you still wanted to be on his team after months of silence.

“Well, the US government feels differently,” he sighed out a soft laugh. “And it’s taken care of now, so it’s all good.”

He appeared hopeful, almost optimistic. He had Sam, he had his pardon- he seemed to be doing well. And though you wanted more than anything to be in his life, you just wanted him to be happy. Maybe your friendship didn’t serve him the way it served you. Maybe he felt like you didn’t give him what he needed. Maybe his life was better without you in it. The thought stung. It forced your throat closed, nearly sending you into a choking fit. But you swallowed your pancakes along with your pride, and vowed never to beg Bucky to come back to you. 

“Good. I’m happy for you.” You stopped yourself from reaching for his hand. “Can I ask something that might be a little invasive?”

Bucky’s heart stopped, “Um, sure.”

“I saw you coming out of that motel…” you shot him a suggestive glance. “What was that about?”

Bucky stiffened. He grew tense, anxiety flooding his system. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… was there maybe a little-” you raised a brow at him, “hook up situation going on?” 

He laughed at your overdramatic wink, the way you licked your lips. And he thanked his lucky stars you came up with a cover story for him. “Oh, yeah…” he grew bashful about his fictional sexcapades. “It’s just a- it’s casual, you know. Nothing serious.”

The confirmation of your suspicions made your jaw drop. Bucky Barnes, the old-fashioned gentleman, actually had a friend with benefits. He’d had a secretive, motel rendezvous. Hell, he probably had hickeys and nail marks hiding under his shirt. 

A pang of jealousy tore through you like the nails of his lover. Why did she get to be near him? How did she rank above you? The unsettling feeling of envy almost possessed you, but you pushed it aside.

“Woah, look at you,” you feigned appluase. “I always knew you were a ladies’ man, I just never got to see it in real time.”

He rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I’m a real heartbreaker.” He regretted his word choice immediately, knowing full well he broke your heart.

You sidestepped his comment and forced the conversation forward, his comment stinging your open wound. “Seriously, Buck. I’m happy for you.” Once again, you stifled the urge to touch him. “You deserve to have some fun.”

He stared at you for a long moment, a genuine smile on his face. You were so sincere in your support of him, so unashamed of how deeply you cared. Sam was an incredible friend, of course- but you were his soulmate. He was tied to you with an unbreakable thread, unable to free himself even if he wanted to. And he wanted to. But not because he didn’t adore you; it was a simple matter of worthiness. 

But no matter how hard he tried, he still thought of you daily. Almost constantly. He missed you, pined over you, wished he could exist in your world. But he couldn’t- not yet. 

He shook the grin from his face and pulled his gaze down to his mug once again. “I’m um- I’m sorry I haven’t been around. Things have just gotten…” He cleared his throat, “I’ve been really busy.”

A scream scratched at your throat, but you forced it away with a bite of eggs and a swig of coffee. Of course, Bucky was busy. But he wasn’t the only one. It seemed that SWORD wanted to run you ragged. They were always assigning you extra operations and looking to you to solve problems. But even with the mountains of work, even in your sea of grief for Nat, you still managed to reach out to Bucky. You still called, still texted. 

But he clearly didn’t want to make the time for you.

“I totally understand,” you lied. “Shit has been crazy. Don’t worry about it.”

You worried about it every day.

Breakfast wrapped up all too soon. Bucky argued when you paid for his coffee, you hushed him with a promise to let him cover yours next time. And in the blink if an eye, you found yourself standing next to him on the sidewalk, praying he wouldn’t walk away.  

“I should really get going,” he said, taking a step away from you. “I have a meeting.”

“Cool, yeah,” you forced a smile, “this was great- I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, me too.”

It seemed to you that Bucky couldn’t care less if he ever saw you again. He was disengaged, disinterested, inching ever farther away. He tried to be subtle about it, tried to slowly escape the interaction. But you caught his tiny steps in the opposite direction. His body remained closed off, the space between you growing with each long, awkward pause. 

But even so, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t let him walk away without knowing if this was the last time you’d see him. 

“We should do this again-” you sounded so needy, so anxious, but couldn’t find it in you to care, “but only if you want.” Never had you felt so pathetic. There you were, practically begging Bucky to signal that he gave a shit about you. 

But all he could muster was a nod. 

“Awesome,” you pulled out your phone. “Do you still have the same number?”

Again, he nodded. 

It killed you. All this time, you’d hoped that he got a new number and simply forgot to tell you. That your texts and calls went unanswered because he didn’t receive them. But he did, indeed, receive them. He just chose to ignore them.

With a swell of tears gathering behind your eyes, you sped through your goodbyes. You threw Bucky a hurried “great to see you, I’ll call soon” and quick smile before turning away and heading for a hiding spot, a concealed place to cry. The person you cared about more than anything, the person you adored, the person for whom you’d lay down your life, didn’t want you anymore. The bitter taste of rejection coated the inside of your mouth. And as you ducked into a bodega down the street, you feared you might get a second look at your breakfast.

You were gone too soon. Bucky wanted to call your name, to run after you. Even after months apart, he could still sus out when you were upset. He remembered your tells. Your dead giveaways. The way your jaw hardened against oncoming emotion. The tendency of your voice to grow thin and hollow as tears loomed on the horizon. 

He knew he hurt you. 

But he found himself stuck, his body defying the orders of his brain. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He could only stand there, helpless, watching as you disappeared. 

He knew you couldn’t possibly be happy with him after he abandoned you; he was surprised that you even acknowledged him on the street- let alone invited him to breakfast. And after the way he acted at the diner, he was shocked that you asked to see him again. 

The conversation you had replayed on a loop inside his head, and he kicked himself for being so closed off. So cold. He’d sullied your reunion so severely- it was almost aggressive. He was dismissive. Curt. And he lied to your face- multiple times. 

He was so happy to see you- he didn’t want you to think otherwise. But he didn’t expect to run into you like that. He didn’t expect to be near you for another few months, at least. He had a plan, and he was doing his best to follow it with as few setbacks as possible. If he kept his head down and pushed himself, he could get to the point where he could explain. He could tell you the truth and make you part of his life again if you even wanted anything to do with him. Though he wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

But running into you outside the motel wasn’t part of the blueprint. And he panicked.

He'd held you at arm’s length, never daring to get too close. He kept everything superficial. Surface level. It was the shallowest interaction he’d had with you to date. And it felt wrong. It didn’t fit who you were as people, who you were as friends. Your bond was never the skin deep, small talk type. No, you delved into one another’s deepest thoughts. Bared your souls. He’d never kept a secret from you- nor you him. But that was a different time.

Disappointed, Bucky unrooted his boots from the concrete and trudged off in the direction of his morning meeting. And while he did his best to focus, to participate, he could think of only you. The heartbreak in your eyes. The hurt in your voice. A wave of nausea barreled into him as he replayed the interaction again and again. You deserved better. And Bucky wished more than anything he that could be better. For you. 

But two nights later, your phone rang.

It was late- nearly midnight. You were curled up on the couch under a blanket, neck deep in your Vampire Diaries rewatch when your phone started to buzz. An unfamiliar number popped up on your screen, accompanied only by Siri’s suggestion of who might be calling.

‘Maybe: Kings County Jail’

You stared at it for three rings, wondering how someone from the jail got your number. And just as you were about to deny the call, something in your gut told you to answer it. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was divine intervention. Either way, you hit accept and held the phone up to your ear. 

“Um, hello?”

An automated message responded, “You are being contacted by a detainee at Kings County Jail. The detainee-” the recording paused, leaving space for someone to state their name.  Your favorite gruff voice followed, “Bucky-”

“-is trying to contact you. Do you accept the charges?”

A riptide coursed through your brain. Questions upon questions piled up, each one trying to escape your lips first. But you swallowed them for the time being. 

“Yeah- yes, I accept.”

The line connected, and Bucky’s soft “hey…” came through from the other end. “Thanks for picking up.”

“Buck? Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “Yeah, I’m- I’ve been better. But I’m fine. I was just wondering if,” he couldn’t believe he was doing this. “I was wondering if you could come bail me out?”

He gave no context, no reasoning, for his stint in the county jail. But you didn’t care. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Even after he ditched you and left radio silence in his wake, even after he practically ran from your reunion at the diner- you’d do anything for him. And there was no way in hell you’d ever just leave him there; you couldn’t. Bucky didn’t belong behind bars.

And so, you pulled yourself off the couch, found some shoes, and headed in his direction. 

The bail money didn’t matter to you. Sure, things were easier now that SWORD paid you the big bucks. But even if your account was running on empty, you’d sacrifice your last remaining cents to free Bucky. 

A guard led him down the hall by the arm and shoved him through the door. This wasn’t how he wanted you to see him. None of this fit into the plan he’d so carefully crafted all those months ago. But there you sat in the lobby of the police station, clad in your sweats, waiting for him. The shame nearly tore him apart from the inside out. 

But as he locked eyes with you across the room, he didn’t find the judgement or irritation that he expected. You should’ve been angry with him- why weren’t you angry with him? He’d called in a favor after abandoning you. He made you come down to the police station, made you pay his bail. You should’ve left him to rot in a jail cell. But you didn’t. Because you cared. Even after everything he did, you still cared about him. He wished you didn’t. He wished you’d scream at him in front of everyone- but you were too good for that. Too kind. 

He threw you a bashful wave, but averted his gaze when a warm smile crossed your face. He couldn’t quite stand the way your gracious expression made him feel. Why did you seem so happy to see him? Why weren’t you furious- or even a little frustrated? 

As he waited in line to gather his backpack and personal belongings from the desk, he hoped for something to prolong his time away from you. A clerical error. A massive stack of paperwork. What was he supposed to say to you? How was he supposed to explain this whole mess? He needed time to put his thoughts in order. To organize his lies. 

But, for the first time in history, a United States government agency did things efficiently and without error. And after only a few minutes, he made his way to your side. 

“Hey,” he granted you only a flash of eye contact before dragging his gaze to the floor. “Thanks for- thank you for coming to get me. And for paying my bail…”

You shrugged, “yeah, absolutely”.

“I’ll pay you back, I swear.” It was then he realized that he didn’t want you to be angry with him. Sure, you cursing him out in front of everyone would be easier. Less complicated. But he’d rather die than upset you again. 

“I know. I’m not worried about it,” you granted him another kind smile, “I trust you.”

It was a dagger to the heart. How- and why- did you still trust him? He’d excised you from his life without warning and left you in the cold; he wasn’t worthy of your trust. 

“Are you all good here?” you asked, “Should we get going?”

“Sure- yeah.”

The walk to the car was quiet; Bucky couldn’t bring himself to walk next to you. Existing in your sphere, being seen by you- it was too much for him. Too shameful. Even if he was only in your peripheral. And so, he opted to position himself a few paces behind you. In the safety of your shadow. 

He got settled in the passenger seat of your car as you turned the key in the ignition. But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull out of your parking spot. Everything in you wanted to ask how he ended up in handcuffs. He wasn’t a troublemaker. He wasn’t violent. He wasn’t the type to make waves. Something bad must’ve happened- something out of his control.

But you knew it wasn’t your business. He clearly didn’t want you around anymore, didn’t want to clue you in on the details of his life. And you never liked to pry. 

As the seconds passed, however, your resolve crumbled. No matter what happened between the two of you, you’d always care about Bucky. You’d always worry about him. And your concern finally got the best of you.

Before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out of your mouth. “Are you okay?” you stared at him, anxiety brewing in your chest. “You don’t have to tell me what happened- I won’t force you- but I’m worried about you.”

He nodded, “I’m fine.” It wasn’t rude, but his tone didn’t invite further probing. 

With a sigh and an unconvinced “okay”, you put the car in drive and prepared to take Bucky home.

Your blinker clicked incessantly as you waited for a few cars to grant you a clear path. Bucky had ample time to give you directions, but he remained quiet. He didn’t offer up information of any kind, not even a neighborhood. It broke your heart that you didn’t know his address.

“Um, where do you live? Should I turn left or right?” 

You waited patiently for an answer that Bucky didn’t seem to have.

“Actually, do you mind if-” he flashed you an apologetic smile, “could we just drive around for a while?”

Maybe he had some residual adrenaline from being arrested. Maybe being in jail gave him flashbacks to his captivity under Hydra. Either way, you knew he wouldn’t have asked to go for a drive unless he really needed it. Part of you was surprised, though, that he’d willingly spend more time with you. That he’d choose to share a confined space with you. He was all too happy with removing you from his life, and practically sprinted through your reunion breakfast. But after so many months of missing him, you’d take whatever extra time you could get.

The drive was quiet, though it did seem to help Bucky relax some. His leg stopped bouncing; his shoulders loosened up. Being around you had that effect on him; it wasn’t something he could help. But as he mellowed out, the questions swirling around your brain only multiplied.

At a red light, you tested the waters. “Can I ask you something?”

Bucky nodded. 

“What happened tonight? How did you end up in jail?”

A litany of emotions ran across Bucky’s face. Frustration, worry, shame, and sadness tied his expression in a knot. Part of him wanted to lie. He could say it was a bar fight. He could make up an elaborate story and placate you for the rest of the ride. But you bailed him out. You answered his call and showed up for him when he needed you. You sat, clad in your pajamas, in the waiting area of a dirty police station. For him. He owed you the truth.

“I was arrested for sleeping in the park,” he said, his tone flat.

It wasn’t at all what you expected to hear. No answer formed on your lips. You couldn’t pull your eyes from his face. The words sunk in, burrowing their way through your flesh and plunging into your heart. 

“Um, it’s- the light is green,” he said, snapping you out of your trance.

You hit the gas and accelerated on autopilot. And as soon as you made it through the intersection, you pulled over. Bucky’s confession knocked the wind out of you and robbed you of your focus. And if he had more to say, you wanted to give him your undivided attention.

“Why are we stopping-”

“Buck, why were you sleeping in the park?”

Bucky let loose a deep sigh that seemed to come right from his soul. “Because I don’t have anywhere else to sleep,” he shrugged. “I ran out of money.” He was silent for a moment, wondering just how honest he should be. “I’m supposed to be getting some POW benefits from the government, but you know, bureaucracy is slow.”

“Oh, Buck…” After everything he suffered through under Hydra, after the way the US treated him upon his arrival home, the least his country could do was pay him back. Or provide him with a safe place to sleep. But, once again, they failed him.

“You know that motel you saw me at the other day? I wasn’t there for a hook up; I’ve been staying there-” He corrected himself, “Well, I’ve actually been staying at a few different motels. None of them are extended stay, so I can’t be there more than a few nights.” 

He noticed the way your eyes grew sad, the way your mouth fell open the slightest bit. Heartbreak was written all over your face. “Sorry to disappoint you, I know you hoped I was getting some strange with someone from Tinder,” he shot you a wink and flashed a smile your way. But you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

Bucky, of all people, deserved a comfortable home. Someplace warm. Permanent. Someplace he could call his own. Someplace he could feel safe. But, instead, life gave him the short end of the stick. Again. 

“Anyway, no matter how cheap those motels are, paying for them every night adds up, you know? So, now I’m broke,” a rush of heat flooded his cheeks. Admitting to his situation was so embarrassing, so shameful, he thought he might drown in it. He was a grown- overgrown- adult who didn’t even have a roof over his head. “I got a warning from the cops last night -and the night before- for sleeping in the park. But tonight was my third strike, so…” He shrugged, “they arrested me.”

“Jesus Christ, cause not having a place to live is criminal?” you scoffed, “This country is ridiculous.”

“Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying,” Bucky quickly added on. He didn’t want you to think he wasn’t working on it, that he was slacking, that we was complacent in his situation. “I tried for a long time to get an apartment, but I either didn’t have enough money for the deposit or I’d get turned away when they realized who I was. Though it’s not like I could ever make rent…” 

When he learned how much an apartment in Brooklyn cost these days, a suffocating sense of hopelessness swallowed him whole. He knew he’d never be able to afford the one place he ever really saw as home.

“And I tried a few shelters, but they wouldn’t take me, either.” He didn’t know a shelter could turn people away; experiencing it first-hand broke him. “So um, the motels were my only option.”

Sobs blocked your airway and burned the inside of your nose. Tears pooled along your inner lash line; you prayed to god Bucky wouldn’t see them. You could sense his shame, his embarrassment; the last thing he needed was you crying over his circumstances. 

“What um,” you fought to keep your voice steady. “What about Sam?”

Bucky shrugged. “Sam’s been helping me with all the stuff for my benefits and getting my record expunged- he’s been a godsend. And he’s offered to let me stay with him more times than I can count. He’s offered me money- he even snuck some cash into my jacket pocket the other day,” Bucky gave a soft laugh. “But I can’t take any more from him; he’s already done too much for me.”

“I get that…” You knew Sam would happily let Bucky crash. But Bucky wasn’t the type to impose. “Sam’s a good friend.”

“He’s the best. I’m gonna pay him- and you- back, either when my benefits come through or whenever I can get a job. Whichever comes first.” It was a promise, a verbal contract. He didn’t want you thinking he wasn’t good for it- even if he wasn’t good for it quite yet. He knew he would be someday. And as soon as he had the money, you and Sam would be his first priority. 

“I keep applying for jobs on the off chance that someone will cut me some slack, but until my record gets expunged, I’m fucked. Every place I’ve applied to has done a background check, and every time, my name is surrounded by red flags.” He let out a sigh, “I’m still a criminal.”

Your heart buckled. He wasn’t a criminal- he never should’ve been burdened with such a title. He didn’t do anything wrong, he didn’t choose to be the Winter Soldier. But people didn’t care about the truth.

“What about SWORD?”

He shook his head, “They don’t want me. Hiring an ex-Hydra assassin doesn’t really work for their image. They’re trying to steer clear of the whole SHIELD thing…”

The two of you sat in silence for a long moment. Bucky hadn’t originally planned on laying everything so bare, he just couldn’t help himself. Opening up to you came naturally. But in the quiet, he felt naked. Exposed. He regretted spilling the details of his pathetic existence for you to see. 

But you’d never judge him. You simply wanted better for him. And wished he’d come to you when times got tough. 

The shards of your broken heart sliced through you with every breath. Imagining Bucky in rundown, roach infested motels or sleeping on an uncomfortable park bench on a cold night made you want to vomit. Waves of utter devastation crashed into you one after another, barely giving you enough time to breathe. But you couldn’t allow yourself to fall apart. Not when Bucky needed you.

When you finally steadied your breathing, you spoke. “Buck, can I ask- and I don’t mean this in an accusatory way,” you prefaced, “but why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because I care what you think about me,” he said, almost automatically. “Your opinion of me is important.”

“Well, my opinion of you hasn’t changed now that I know what’s been going on…”

A smile fought its way to Bucky’s lips. Logically, he knew you didn’t think less of him now that you knew the truth. He knew you were too kind to look down on him. But his anxiety didn’t think logically. The smile lasted only a second, as his worries about your perception got the better of him. 

“My life is a disaster,” he said. “I have almost nothing to my name. I don’t have any money. I don’t have a place to live. It’s humiliating.” He ran his palms up and down the length of his thighs, fighting the nervous energy. “I wouldn’t have even called you to bail me out if Sam was in town; I didn’t want you to know about all this.” 

Without a word, you pulled back onto the road. 

Bucky eyed the surrounding street, “Um, where are we going?” 

“My place,” you kept your eyes on the road. “I’m taking you to my apartment.”

Panic bloomed in Bucky’s chest. “Oh, no, it’s- that’s okay. I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.” A swell of anxiety barreled into him at the thought of you taking him home like a dirty, stray dog. He didn’t want to be a charity case or your good deed of the day. And as much as he would’ve loved to spend time in your home, he wished to do so under different circumstances. Circumstances that didn’t involve pity.

“You can really just drop me off anywhere-”

His words tore through you. “Buck, it’s late,” you cut a glance at him. “And it’s cold out. I’m not just leaving you on the side of the road somewhere. I-” you cleared your throat, “I care about you” 

Part of him wanted to open the door and jump from the moving car. Surely, it would be less humiliating. But the look on your face kept him from pulling the rip cord. Concern pulled your brows together. Worry made you bite at your lip. You genuinely cared about him, genuinely wanted to help. And though he could actually feel embarrassment seeping from his pores, he chose to stay. Because you caring about him trumped any and every other feeling.

“Okay, so, this is my place,” you said as you led Bucky though the front door of your apartment. You flicked on a few lights and kicked off your shoes, “make yourself at home.”

Bucky didn’t know how to do that anymore.

He stood stone still just inside the door, too overwhelmed and unsure to move. 

“Um, so, obviously, this is the kitchen- and that’s the living room,” you said, pointing to an area with a massive suede couch. “My bedroom and the guest room are down that hall, laundry is to the left, and guest bathroom is to the right, next to the office.” 

Bucky was impressed. The apartment was beautiful. You’d decorated to match your warm personality; it made him instantly comfortable. And it was nice- fancier than anything he could ever dream of affording. He was so proud of you. He knew you’d worked hard to get here, and seeing the fruits of your labor brought a smile to his face. He only wished he could’ve been a part of your journey. 

“This is really nice,” he said, taking a few more steps inside. “Is it all yours? Or do you have a roommate?”

“Nope, no roommate. Just me.”

Bucky’s brows lifted as he drank in the space. You paid for this place all on your own, no help from a roommate. He wondered what it felt like to be that stable, that secure. He never knew where he was sleeping from one night to the next, and you practically lived in a penthouse. 

“Um, we can sit, if you like,” you gestured toward the fancy couch, “it’s more comfortable than it looks, I promise.”

But Bucky didn’t go for it. “Actually, would you mind if I took a shower? I’m just- I feel pretty grimy from the motels. And the park. And the jail,” he felt his cheeks flush at the admission. He really was the filthy mutt you brought home from the pound. “I just don’t wanna sit on your couch when I’m gross like this.”

“Oh, sure. That’s- I totally get it. I should probably change my clothes, too.” 

With a wave of your hand, you gestured for Bucky to follow you to the bathroom. As you guided him through your apartment, he admired the art on your walls and the expensive rugs covering your floors. 

With a clearing of your throat, you gestured to the guest bathroom. “Everything you need should be in there but let me know if I can get you anything else. Can I throw your clothes in the laundry? I’ll wash whatever’s in your bag, too.”

Bucky gave you a strange look, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think you want me walking around here in a towel.”

You didn’t necessarily shy away from the idea, but this wasn’t the time for a suggestive response. “Okay, but- what are you gonna put on after you shower?”

Bucky shrugged, “I don’t know. Whatever I have in my backpack.”

You eyed the bag slung over his shoulder and imagined the heap of clothes he’d balled up and shoved inside. “Are they clean?”

Bucky thought for a moment, “Define ‘clean’.”

“Buck,” you laughed,  “just let me put your stuff in the wash.” You gave his backpack a gentle swat and motioned for him to relinquish it to you.

“So, you do want me walking around in a towel,” Bucky quirked a brow at you. “I knew it.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, “just come with me.” 

Bucky did as he was told and followed you into your bedroom. It cloaked him in an instant warmth, a sense of home he hadn’t experienced in eighty years. The whole room seemed to glow with a cozy, welcoming aura. He wondered what it was like to fall asleep here every night, to wake here each morning. Well-loved books populated a large bookcase in the corner, an armchair sat near the window. Bucky could practically see you curled up on its large cushion, your nose buried in Pride and Prejudice. But a photo on the wall near your bed caught his eye. 

“Is that me?” He took a few steps inside your door and found his suspicion to be correct. 

It was a slightly out of focus candid shot of you and Bucky laying on the floor of the war room at the compound. Nat snapped it as the team talked through different strategies to bring everyone back from the blip. In the photo, you sported a massive smile, and had your face smushed against Bucky’s arm to stifle your laughter. Bucky’s eyes were squeezed shut, his metal hand covering his mouth. You were both exhausted, and loopy, enjoying a moment of levity amidst a sea of tragedy.

“That’s my favorite picture,” something about your words came off sad. And Bucky knew it was because of him. The joy, the closeness exhibited in the photo didn’t exist anymore. He’d stripped your friendship of everything warm and left you out in the cold. Alone. 

You made your way over to the dresser and fished around in the bottom drawer, “let’s find you something to wear.”

“Um, I don’t…” Bucky chuckled, “I’m not gonna fit into any of your clothes.”

You cut glance at him, “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you…” With a grand gesture, you unearthed a pair of sweatpants, “your clothes.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open. He stared at the pair of charcoal gray sweats he lent to you ages ago, the pair you loved, the pair he told you to keep. He didn’t say anything when you plopped them in his hands; he was too stunned to speak.

“And here’s this,” you said as you draped a faded blue ‘NYC’ t-shirt over his shoulder. He’d loaned you that shirt so many times back at the compound, you wore it more than he did. Eventually, he started putting it in your closet instead of his on laundry day.

“Now, give me your bag and I’ll throw your stuff in the wash.”

Bucky finally dragged his eyes from the pair of pants and furrowed his brow at you. “Why do you still have this stuff?”

Something in you grew nervous. Was he mad? Or did he think you were a creep for holding onto his things? Maybe it was too weird of a gesture. Maybe you should’ve let him hang around in a towel after all.

“Cause I like wearing it,” you said with trepidation in your voice. “Your clothes were always more comfortable than mine. And I-” you cut yourself off. Saying ‘I miss you’ was too much. Instead, you rerouted, “I like to wear oversized stuff.”

Bucky nodded and gave a quiet “right” before thanking you and heading for the bathroom. At your request, he left his bag in the hall. You scooped it up and dumped his clothes into the washer before doubling back to the bathroom, where Bucky had dropped his dirty jail-clothes outside the door. You changed out of your dirty clothes from the police station and threw them in the laundry with Bucky’s. It was the closest you’d been in months.

Bucky nearly teared up as the water sliced through the layer of grime coating his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a shower this hot. The motels always seemed to have faulty water heaters that only allowed for subzero temperatures. And at some of them, the water didn’t quite run clear. Sometimes, there was a brown tint. Other times, it was gray. And showers like those left only him feeling dirtier. 

But he didn’t want to think about the rust-eaten pipes of the decrepit motels in which he stayed. Instead, he basked in the nearly scalding water, the tiles that didn’t have moldy grout. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like a husk of himself, but a real person. All his time shuffling between park benches and rat-infested motels had stripped him of his personhood. And something as simple as a shower restored it. Though, deep down, he knew it wasn’t the incredible water pressure or the lavender body wash that had him feeling human again. It was you.

With the entirety of Bucky’s wardrobe in the washing machine, you paced lap after lap around the kitchen. Only a few days ago, you feared you’d never see Bucky again. And now, he was in your shower. After your chilly reunion at the diner, you couldn’t help but be mad at him, no matter how much you’d missed him. He was cool and aloof. He didn’t open up. And he didn’t seem at all interested in repairing your friendship.

But listening to him in the car laid almost every piece of the puzzle out before you. And though there were still gaps and empty spots, you nearly had the picture complete. Bucky didn’t ice you out because he hated you or didn’t want you anymore. He was simply too embarrassed to admit what he was going through. 

A sharp twinge of guilt needled at you. You shouldn’t have been mad at him after what happened at the diner. You shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions or assumed the worst. Bucky deserved better. You should’ve known in your heart that he was only pushing you away to protect himself. It was his nature; it always had been. You’d just been too hurt to see it.

“Your shower is unbelievable,” Bucky said as he padded into the kitchen, his hair still damp. “And those towels? They’re amaz-” A stack of Tupperware on the island caught his attention. “What’s all this?”

“Leftovers. I cooked dinner earlier tonight…” You shrugged, “I thought you might be hungry.”

He shifted his wide-eyed gaze from the food, forcing his eyes to land anywhere else. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m fine.”

You quirked a brow at him, “You’re not hungry?”

“No.” It was quiet but firm. 

“Really? Cause the Bucky I knew needed to eat like, six thousand calories a day.” Bucky’s insatiable hunger was a running joke between the two of you back then. He always finished your food when you couldn’t clear your plate, and snacked on anything he could get his hands on. On one occasion, he even fell asleep in your bed with his hand in bag of honey mustard pretzels. Hearing him refuse food was strange, almost alarming. “You always called yourself ‘Earth’s hungriest hero’”.

Bucky gave a small laugh, “yeah, damn super soldier serum will do that to your metabolism.”

You stared at him, “So…” 

“So?”

“So, do you want something to eat?” 

“No, really,” he shook his head, “I’m fine.” 

But you noticed the way his stare always returned to the stack of containers. Even after he’d pulled his focus from the food, his eyes found their way back. You sensed a longing in him, a deep desperation that left you gutted. Any jovial, lighthearted quality your words held fell to the wayside, making way for concern. 

“Buck, when’s the last time you ate?”

Bucky did his best to think back to his last meal but couldn’t find an answer. Part of him wanted to lie, to appease you with details of a made-up dinner from earlier that night. But he didn’t get the chance; his pause was too long for your liking. 

“Okay, if it’s taking you that long to remember, you need to eat.” It wasn’t an offer or a request, but an order. “Help yourself.”

But once again, he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to impose-”

“It’s not an imposition,” your words came out with an unexpected fierceness; it almost sounded like a scold. The idea, the mere suggestion that Bucky could impose on you was ridiculous. You took a breath and softened your tone, “I live alone, and every recipe is for more than one person. There’s plenty.”

Before Bucky could refuse again, you opened the Tupperware and allowed him a look at the fruits of your labor. “There’s roasted chicken with rosemary and thyme, garlic mashed potatoes, and maple-glazed brussels sprouts.” Bucky’s eyes lit up. You could practically see drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. 

A sense of satisfaction enveloped you, like you’d finally banished Bucky’s unnecessary fear of imposition. But just in case he wasn’t sure, just in case you hadn’t won him over, you threw one last piece of information his way. “Oh, and there’s chocolate chip cookies over there.”

Bucky was almost overwhelmed. He took in the beautiful spread and gave the cookies a long glance; it was almost too much. “Woah, you weren’t kidding…” He gave a small laugh, “this is a lot of food.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know how to cook for one.”

With that, you handed Bucky a plate and let him go to town. He filled his dish with chicken, mashed potatoes, and brussels sprouts. But the look on his face signaled more relief than joy, more solace than happiness. You wondered how long he’d been without food, how long he’d worried about where his next meal would come from. As he stood over those plastic containers, that anxiety vanished- for the most part.

A debate raged inside of Bucky’s head. He was famished, literally starving. And you’d given him full access to a massive meal. But he didn’t want to overdo it. He knew he shouldn’t empty your Tupperware and leave you with nothing; he just he didn’t know when he’d eat again. And he could practically feel his body digesting itself. 

Before he could tighten the reigns, though, you spoke up. “Seriously, Buck, don’t be shy. I can’t finish all of this- it’ll just go bad.”

He nearly broke down. For so long, he knew only wanting, only appetite, only emptiness. And you offered him a respite. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in…” Once again, his pause was too long; it crushed you. “Anyway, I really appreciate this.” He pulled his gaze from the food and gave you a long look filled with admiration. “And I’m impressed- I didn’t know you were such a culinary talent. I distinctly remember you burning ramen noodles to a blackened crisp more than once.”

The laugh that erupted from your chest filled the kitchen, “Well, I distinctly remember you eating my disgusting ramen without hesitation.”

Back when things were good between you and Bucky, you’d always volunteer to make dinner. Between strategy sessions and long, complicated meetings, the team simply forgot to eat. But you knew they needed nourishment to make defeating Thanos a realistic option. No one, however, wanted your charred ramen. Except for Bucky. He always accepted your offerings with a kind smile and a mountain of appreciation. He was grateful, no matter how awful it tasted, because it came from you.

“My therapist actually suggested I get into cooking,” you told Bucky as he popped his plate in the microwave. “I was really depressed and stopped caring about eating or taking care of myself. It felt pointless. But she told me some people find comfort in cooking. It’s almost meditative, you know? And if you focus on the recipe, you can’t think about all the um, the painful stuff.” 

Bucky knew he was ‘the painful stuff’.

“There was a bit of a learning curve, but now,” you shrugged, “I love it.”

“Oh, wow, that awesome. So you get some peace and a delicious meal? Sounds like a good deal.” He mulled it over, wishing he had a kitchen into which he could retreat. But the motels only ever had a microwave, and most of the time, it didn’t work.

“I had a therapist- well, a court appointed therapist,” he said, “she was the worst.”

You sighed. Why were things always so hard for him? Why did people treat him so terribly? 

“What was so terrible about her?”

“Honestly, I think she hated me,” defeat coated his words. “She was mean- I know that sounds childish, but I mean, the things she said were biting. They hurt. And she did it on purpose. I left every session feeling worse.” He thought back on his sessions with Dr. Raynor, on how she broke him down piece by piece until he was only a pile of ash. “She said I wasn’t a victim, and that I needed to take responsibly for the things I did and the choices I made.”

Anger surged inside your chest, “The choices you made?”

He nodded. “She was actually so terrible that I thought she worked for Hydra. I thought they were trying to get me back and that she was working undercover with them to manipulate me.” A small laugh broke free from his chest, “But she wasn’t. She’s just an asshole.”

“Jesus Christ, Buck…” You couldn’t imagine anyone being so awful, so hateful, toward Bucky. He was kind and warm. He showed people compassion and understanding. Why the world didn’t show him the same baffled you. “I hope you don’t see her anymore.”

He removed his plate from the microwave, “Oh, I don’t.” 

You sighed with relief, but it was a short-lived respite.

“I couldn’t afford to.”

He dove into his food before you could even usher him to the table. Between huge bites of potatoes and chicken, he praised your cooking. He swore on his life that this was some of the best food he’d ever had. It warmed your heart for a brief moment, but reality put a stop to the fuzzy feeling. Sure, you were a good cook. But you were certain than Bucky’s gushing compliments were the product of his empty stomach. He couldn’t even determine how long it had been since his last meal; of course, he was going to inhale his food with gusto and deem it ‘the best’.

It gnawed at you to see him like this. He laughed as you guided him to the table and settled into the seat across from him, but you didn’t match his lighthearted energy. He’d been struggling, suffering in silence without knowing where he’d get his next meal. For decades, Bucky knew nothing but pain. He was tortured, abused, treated like an animal. Hydra infected him like a parasite and devoured him from the inside out. They saddled him with PTSD and enough demons to fill even the deepest pits of hell. And after all that, life refused to give him a break. It killed you.

“I thought- correct me if I’m wrong, but- I thought court appointed therapy was paid for...” 

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Bucky said with a mouth full of brussels sprouts. “It depends on the situation”. He threw a shrug your way and speared a piece of chicken with his fork, but a thought stopped him from shoveling it into his mouth. “Even if my appointments were supposed to be covered, I don’t think anyone wanted to give me anything for free.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Only the sound of Bucky’s fork scraping his plate interrupted the blanket of quiet. But the stillness made him squirm. Suddenly, he piped up.

“So, I did the required amount of sessions with that therapist and promised myself I’d never go back. It was tough, but I made it work. I scraped by.” His gaze took on a hollow quality, “That’s when I started staying in the really shitty places. The ones with asbestos and mold. And there was this one place where the sheets were stained with what looked like blood.” He grimaced, “I haven’t been back there.”

You forced a laugh, “Good call.”

Bucky shifted his focus back to his plate; he’d sprinted through his meal, leaving only a few bites remaining. The flicker of a frown ghosted across his face. The food was gone too soon, replaced by an empty plate. He was tired of everything in his life being empty- his bank account, his stomach, his heart. But he didn’t dare let himself wallow in self-pity with you sitting mere inches away. Instead, he overcorrected with a large smile, hoping you hadn’t noticed the look of disappointment he wore just moments earlier. He’d rather die than appear ungrateful, even if his hunger pangs had already returned.

“You can help yourself to seconds, there’s more than enough,” you took a look at the containers still sitting on the counter. Even after he’d piled his plate high, not a dent was made. “You can have thirds, fourths- I don’t care.”

Bucky shook his head as he cleaned his plate, “No, that’s alright. I’m good. Thank you, though.”

It was an egregious lie; maybe the worst you’d ever heard. 

“Buck, I can practically hear your stomach rumbling from here.” You knew him. Even after all this time apart, you knew him. You knew he was still hungry, especially after having gone so long without eating. His metabolism burned through fuel at a massively accelerated pace; he needed the calories. “Please, have some more.”

Once again, he shook his head. “I’m okay, really,” he gave you a smile. “Plus, I don’t want you to think I’m a freeloader.”

His words struck you in a strange way. Bucky never used to worry about your perception of him. And you never thought twice about how he saw you. There was a mutual respect and sense of comfort that didn’t fall victim to judgement. You accepted each other without hesitation. But Bucky couldn’t find his sense of security. He shifted in his seat and averted his eyes every so often, fearful of your inner monologue.

“Why are you so worried about what I think?”

Confusion lifted Bucky’s brow, “what do you mean?”

“You just said that you don’t want me to think you’re a freeloader. And in the car earlier, you said you didn’t reach out and ask me for help because you care about what I think.” You shrugged, “I just want to know why my opinion matters so much to you.”

“Because you’re my friend,” his tone was sure, steadfast. “I’ve always cared about your opinion.”

“Yeah,” hearing him call you his friend eased some of the tension in your neck. “And I care about what you think of me, too, but- I was never worried about it.” A sudden thought popped into your head, “I mean, I’ve been worrying about it lately, cause it kinda seemed like you hated my guts for a while there, but…” 

Bucky stared down at his empty plate. He didn’t want you pulling at this thread, didn’t want you unraveling his thought process. He prayed you’d drop the whole thing and move on. 

You didn’t.

“Sam’s your friend, too. Don’t you care what he thinks?” You feared coming on too strong, but you needed answers. “He knows about what you’ve been going through. You let him help you. You didn’t-” you stopped yourself. 

Bucky gave you an expectant look, “I didn’t what?”

“You didn’t cut him off.”

Bucky’s face fell. You never meant to hurt him, to make him feel bad about pushing you away. No matter how badly he hurt you, you’d never throw it in his face- especially after you learned why he did it.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”

 “No, don’t apologize,” a sad smile crossed his face. “You’re right.” He was quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He planned on having this conversation with you someday, months from now. He didn’t have his script organized, didn’t know how to best express what he was feeling. Worry encapsulated him. What if he misspoke? What if he messed things up even worse?

“Things with Sam are different. He and I became friends because of Steve. We promised him we’d look out for each other.”

It sounded all too familiar. “You and I promised each other the same thing…” It was a pinky promise made on the living room floor of the compound. In the middle of the night, by the light of the fireplace, you swore to be there for one another come hell or high water. Never did you even consider breaking that covenant, that bond. You upheld your end of the bargain without issue. But Bucky fell short. 

He thought about that promise every night, berating himself for breaking it until he fell asleep. 

He sighed, “I know we did, but- that’s not the same thing. You and I became friends when everything fell apart. The entire universe was in chaos, everyone’s lives imploded.” He dragged his gaze downward, “You and I were on an even playing field back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back then, we were equals,” a faint smile flickered on his lips at the thought of those days he spent with you. They were dark, sure, but he remembered them fondly. Those were the days when he never left your side, the days when we woke up and fell asleep next to you. His favorite days. “We slept on the floor at the compound. We lived off ramen and red bull and worked around the clock to try and figure out how bring everyone back. We struggled. Together. But now…” He looked around your beautiful kitchen, “everything is okay again, and everyone has gone back to their lives. You’re doing well- really well. And I’m stillstruggling. I’m in almost the exact same position as I was back then.”

Words formed a traffic jam in your throat. Each new idea of how to comfort Bucky seemed too sappy, too corny. Just as a new phrase tried to exit your lips, you swallowed it. How were you supposed to make him feel better? How were you going to make any of this okay?

Bucky knew you were at a loss. He could see your desperate attempts to come up with a fix-it phrase for his situation, a way to assuage the way he felt. All you ever wanted was to make him feel better. “You have this great apartment and you’re working for SWORD. You found your way out. Meanwhile, I’m scrounging together any cash I can find to pay for a few nights in a rat-infested motel. Or I’m sleeping in the park- and getting arrested for it.”

He was going through a hard time- a really hard time. His life was in shambles and a new hardship greeted him at every turn. But you couldn’t make sense of his departure from your life. If anything, he should’ve grown closer to you, shouldn’t he? He should’ve leaned on you, asked you for help, sought comfort in your arms. 

“I guess I’m just- does that automatically mean we can’t be friends?”

Bucky’s humiliation piled on top of itself. It grew with each breath, with each passing moment. Admitting just how destitute he was, how utterly lacking- it destroyed him. “No, but- who wants to be friends with that guy? Who wants to hang out with the guy who can’t figure his shit out?” A strange mixture of frustration and melancholy dripped from his words. “I have nothing. And I’m just not- I can’t be your friend yet.”

His words hit you like a train. “We were already friends; you were my closest friend-”

“We were rock bottom friends,” his voice was low, hollow. “We were wartime friends.” It came out almost as a recitation, as thought this was something he told himself to justify his actions. 

You swore he made up that phrase right there in your kitchen. It seemed more like an excuse than an explanation. “What does that even mean?”

“A wartime friend, it’s- it’s the person you cling to when the world implodes. The person you’d never actually be friends with in real life, but you lean on them when life falls apart because they’re just- they’re there.”

The day you two met, Bucky found you crying in a supply closet at the compound. You were at the end of your rope, heartbroken over the loss of friends and family. Never had you experienced such an earth-shattering loss. You had no one- nothing. But Bucky was there for you. For a moment, you weren’t alone. You had someone. And he quickly became your favorite someone.

“People get desperate during wartime, you know?” Bucky continued, “They’ll befriend anyone if it brings them even a sliver of peace or comfort.”

“So, you thought-”

“I thought for sure that’s what you were doing.” 

Bucky stood from his chair. Anxiety ate away at him from the inside, leaving him unable to sit any longer. “I mean, you knew who I was. You knew I was a mentally ill, train wreck of a person. I figured we’d buddy up until the clouds parted- since neither of us had any other options- and then when things when back to normal, you’d find your real friends.”

He considered himself a consolation prize, a leftover. He didn’t know that, from the very beginning, you considered him a ‘real’ friend.

“But after knowing you for a few days, I wasn’t okay with that anymore,” his words came out hurried, almost frantic. “I wanted to be friends with you for real. I wanted you to want me around after we fixed everything. But I knew there was no way you’d want me as a friend outside of the shitstorm.” 

The realization played out across his face in real time. You watched happiness turn to disappointment, to despair, to desperation. 

“So, I just resigned myself to enjoy our time while it lasted. I knew it was all the friendship I could ever hope to get from you-” A shy smile pulled at his lips, “though, I was lucky to be close to you for any measure of time.” 

The smile faded, “but then when it was all over, and things went back to normal, you kept reaching out. You kept trying to get in touch with me and I- I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t make sense of it-” 

You gave a small shake of your head, “I missed you. I needed you. I just wanted to see you…”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to react. I panicked.” The nervous energy left Bucky’s buddy all at once. He slid into his chair and let his spine rest heavy against the wood. A sense of dejection befell him like and angry, icy sleet. “I didn’t want you to see me struggle in real life. I didn’t want you to see how much my actual life resembled the disaster we’d been living in. Cause when you look at my situation in the cold light of day it’s…” he swallowed the urge to hide from his humiliation. “It’s ugly. There’s no romanticizing what I’m dealing with.”

“I know you’re going through a lot right now.” For the first time in almost a year, you reached across the table for his hand. And for the first time in almost a year, he let you. “But Buck, you are not the only person struggling. I know it feels that way, but there are still so many people trying to get their lives on track after the blip- I’m still trying to get my head right. No one has a perfect life.”

Bucky gave a gentle scoff, “I know, but yours is a lot closer to perfect than mine.”

Again, you found yourself at a loss. No pep talk, no encouraging words, could make Bucky feel better about his situation. And nothing you could say had the power to fix how he felt about the state of his life. Instead of speaking, you opted to wrap his hand in both of yours the way you used to. You only hoped it would comfort him like the old days.

After a while, Bucky spoke again, “I just wanted to get my life together before I saw you again. You know? Cause my situation right now is embarrassing. I was afraid to admit the truth of my reality.”

You nodded, “And that’s why-”

“That’s why I was so weird when we ran into each other the other day,” he confirmed. He cringed at the way he acted, the way he treated you. It was all wrong. “I knew you saw me leave the motel. I knew I couldn’t pay for a meal at that diner. I was afraid that, as we spent more time together, you’d put the puzzle pieces in place and figure out that I’m a mess.”

His sense of frantic desperation reclaimed him all at once. He leaned forward and captured your hands in his own as his gaze bore into yours. “I never wanted to cut you out of my life- you have to know that. I need you to know that.” 

Tears formed along your lash line, creating a haze around your vision. “I know.”

“I just needed time,” he said. “I needed time to prove that I’m not a loser, that I’m good enough- I just wanted to be good enough for you.”

“Buck, you didn’t have to prove anything to me. And what do you mean you needed to be good enough? I’ve only ever wanted you to be yourself...” It was the most certain, the surest you’d ever been of anything. Bucky was exactly enough. He was himself, and that was all you could ever ask.

“And hey, I bailed you out of jail tonight without having any idea what you did- I didn’t even ask. I didn’t care. I was going to be there for you, regardless. Because I care about you.”

The storm clouds in his eyes parted. He hadn’t even thought about that, about how you paid for his release without context. If ever he doubted how you felt about him, that gesture was enough to set him straight.

He bowed his head a moment, thanking his lucky stars for your gracious nature. “I know you care about me. And I’m so sorry I abandoned you like that- I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know what to do…”

“It’s okay,” you sniffled. 

Bucky freed your hands for a moment, allowing you to wipe the tears flowing down your cheeks. He recaptured them as soon as he could, even if your knuckles were still damp. 

“Well, it’s not okay- like, don’t do it again,” you joked. “But I understand now why you felt the way you felt. And you understand that I want you in my life, full stop. Right?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah, I get that now.”

With the deepest sigh of relief you could muster, you banished the feeling of abandonment Bucky with which Bucky saddled you. You shed your fears, your worries. The deep pit that formed in your stomach all those months ago closed, the prickling anxiety in your chest faded away. And for the first time in long time, you breathed easy.

“Just so you know- and I don’t wanna hear any complaints or refusals on this-” you gave Bucky a look, prompting him to nod in agreement. “You have to have at least one more plate of food.”

A rebuttal brewed beneath Bucky’s surface, his fear of imposing rearing its ugly head. He’d already called in a massive favor, had you pay his bail, used your shower, and eaten your food. The anxiety of overstepping vibrated inside his skull. But he kept his promise and nodded in agreement. 

“And-”

“And?” he gave you an exasperated look. 

You gave a firm nod, “Yes, there’s an ‘and’!” 

Bucky sighed out a tired laugh, “What more could there be?” A sudden darkness eclipsed his expression. His smile fell, his laugh halted. Anxiety had him by the throat. His snaked his hands away from yours and tightened them into tight fists. “I already feel like I’m taking advantage…”

“You’re not. I promise.” All at once, you were fed up with sitting across from him. You needed to be closer, as close as possible. Bucky needed to feel your sincerity, to hear your words loud and clear. In a flash, you gave up your seat across the table for the one right next to him. “You can’t impose or take advantage- not here. Because…”

Bucky eyed you with a nervous glance, “because?”

“Because… you live here now!” A victorious laugh fluttered out of your throat, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

Shock overtook Bucky’s expression. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. His heart raced, his hand shook. All color drained from his face. “No, I can’t- that’s too nice…” He stared at you, “Are you serious?”

You nodded, “Dead serious. This is your home now, too.” Suddenly, you felt the need to clarify. “But only if you want. This isn’t like, a hostage situation or anything.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a loud laugh that nearly brought tears to your eyes. He hadn’t felt this carefree, this at peace, in a very long time. He didn’t remember the last time he laughed this way. 

“Well, that is a relief,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d love to live here with you, I’d be- I’m so…” Suddenly, his hands found yours. He squeezed your fingers until your pulse throbbed against your skin. His anxiety practically seeped into your bones. “But I swear, I’m not gonna stop looking for a job or trying to get my benefits. I promise. I’m not gonna sit around like a deadbeat and mooch off you-”

“Buck, don’t worry about that right now, okay?” 

He shook his head, “And I won’t stay here too long, I’ll-”

“Hey,” With great effort, you pulled your hands from his and places your palms against his cheeks. “There’s no move out date. There’s no ticking clock. You’re allowed to live here as long as you want- I want you here.” You shot him a smile, “Plus, I’ve missed you- a lot. So this arrangement is good for me, too.”

A swirling cloud of worry hovered above Bucky’s head. He was overwhelmed, you could tell. He tensed his jaw, his shoulders. His every muscle went rigid. “But are you sure? This is generous- it’s too generous.”

“I’m sure. Here-” You stood from your chair and gestured for him to do the same, “I thought you might need this.”

With that, you enveloped him in a tight hug. Back at the compound, a hug from you could solve any and every problem for Bucky. And his embrace did the same for you. There was something so warm, so welcoming about the arms of the other. It was salvation, it was solace. It was home. Without a place to live, Bucky could survive. But without you, without his home, he’d been lost. As he wrapped his arms around you, though, his entire world changed. And the severed soul tie you feared would never heal grew back once again, stronger than ever.

-----------------------------------------

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

#bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #fatws bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

[thinemoonshine]

⋆ ˚｡𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x nishimura riki content(s): fluff, jungwon’s defeat by ni-ki’s pettiness, ni-ki lets (y/n) wear his clothes, jake and heeseung third/fourth-wheeling(?), ni-ki's lowkey down bad type: oneshot word count: 975

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: ni-ki and (y/n) are like peas in a pod—inseparable and close as close can be—so naturally, they do a lot of things together. some where the others don’t even have the privilege to do so with (y/n) such as sharing clothes ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

riki, (y/n)'s capeless hero

“Hey, Riki. Ni-ki. Riki Ni-ki ding dong,” (y/n) calls as she knocks on the open door of his bedroom that he shares with some of the others.

The said lad furrows at the odd nickname and turns around to look as he sits criss-crossed on his bed. “What?”

Her eyes wander around the room to his wardrobe before back at him. “Can I… borrow a shirt? Or a hoodie? Or anything, actually. I wanna change out of mine because it feels so stuffy.”

Unlike the others, she doesn't stay at the dorm and instead, at her own small apartment nearby but she tends to spend a lot of time at the dorm whenever they have schedules— but never overnight. Because of this, she's grown tired of carrying extra baggage for when she freshens up after their morning events before going to their evening ones. And sometimes, she just wants comfort that her outing clothes can't offer. So, what else to do than ask for some little generosity?

Her teammate stares at her and she stares back and an abrupt staring contest begins before he stands to his feet.

“Wait,” he says simply before rummaging through his clothes, eventually pulling out a pink and white tee with its colours blending into each other in gradients. He approaches her. “Here.”

With a quick “thanks!” she then, leaves to change.

“Ni-ki Riki!” (y/n) summons as she slides through the corridor with the help of her socks and she’s caught by the youngest male who exits his room at her beckoning.

His hands on her shoulders to hold her from crashing into him. He blinks fast with eyes widened slightly from surprise as he looks down at her.

“Thanks for the shirt! I feel like I can breathe so much better now without that high-neck collar choking me,” she expresses with theatrics before breaking into a playful grin again. Her eyes are upturned, cheeks rounded at her smiley face and she’s practically buzzing at her newfound comfort.

Ni-ki’s eyes are fixated on her, their cutting sharpness unable to conceal the tenderness and endearment of his gaze as the corners of his lips hook upwards. “Looks nice.”

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow.”

“Keep it.”

riki, the exclusive clothes-lender for (y/n)

Ever since he lent (y/n) his shirt, it's become exclusive (to the members) that he is her official clothes-lender. Mainly because, no one else is allowed to. Not that she rejects them— but Ni-ki prevents them.

A giddy Jungwon spots (y/n) sitting on their couch scrolling on her phone and he approaches with a colourful hoodie in his arms. "(y/n)! This hoodie will look grea—"

"(y/n)~" Riki calls with his deep, bass tone in a short sing-song tune. He swerves in front of Won and drapes his hoodie onto the girl's head when she turns to look— blocking her vision from seeing both him and Jungwon. "You wanted this one right? You liked the wording."

"Oh! Um, thanks, Ni-ki! My shirt is fine for now though so—"

"You should change. They say it's gonna get cold soon," Ni-ki claims, lying through his teeth and (y/n), although slightly finding it odd, decides to listen.

She pulls the clothing from her head as she stands, brows raising at the sight of them. "Jungwon! Didn't know you were here too."

Just before she can look down at the piece he holds, Ni-ki spins her around by the shoulders before pushing her gently. "Go, go."

And once she's out of frame, he turns to his hyung who's staring with confused, round eyes and Ni-ki pulls his lips to a line.

"Don't worry, hyung. It's settled now."

At some point, he has clothes set aside just for (y/n). Once again, emphasis on the just.

Heeseung passes by Ni-ki’s room and sees the pile to which he curiously reaches out for— only to get jumpscared by the maknae who appears behind him suddenly.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing. Whose clothes are these?”

“Those are (y/n)’s,” Riki says as he slowly lowers the older’s outstretched hand.

The older furrows. “These look pretty big, though. And why are they in this room? Are you sure they’re—”

“(y/n)’s,” the other will say again despite the said girl not even knowing what these clothes look like yet. But he’s decided they’re hers so they are hers.

An awkward chuckle sounds from his hyung who slowly retracts his hand before Ni-ki can lower it any further to the floor and he takes backward steps out the room.

riki, the (not) discreet no.1 fan

"She looks cute, doesn't she?" Jake gushes at their female member who's sitting at the dining table, knees against her chest but unseen from the way they're hidden under the large hoodie she wears.

Heeseung chuckles with a nod. "She's practically wrapped all over by the hoodie. Just her toes and head popping out."

Light laughter emits from the two as they admire the oblivious lass who's resisting the urge to gnaw the edge of her phone at the stressful game she's playing.

"Yeah. She's cute, right?" Ni-ki abruptly appears beside his hyungs, smiling at the girl from afar. The other two whip their head at him, jumpscared by his abrupt presence. He turns to them, his smiley face contrasting the two who wears expressions of confusion. "That's my hoodie."

"...Yeah, you told us that 3 times in a span of 7 minutes earlier," Heeseung says with a dead expression and a nodding Jake besides him.

But fanboying Ni-ki barely bats an eye at his monotone as he dreamily gazes at a raging (y/n) who's knocking her head on her phone screen. "That's my hoodie she's wearing."

"Uhuh..." Jake sounds as he and Seung quietly slide away and Ni-ki walks to (y/n) with a skip in his steps.

"(y/n)~~" He sings with moe flowers practically fluttering around him, contrasting the dark, gloomy lines that surround the defeated (y/n) by her game.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x female reader #ni-ki x reader #enhypen oneshot #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagine #enha oneshot #enhypen 8th member #riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen maknae line #maknae line x reader #jealous enhypen #jealous ni-ki x reader #jealous ni-ki #enhypen soft hours #riki headcannons #ni-ki imagines #enhypen fluff #enha soft hours

[beenbaanbuun]

messy room w/ seonghwa

words - 🤷‍♀️

genre - fluff and also angst

warnings - depressed reader, supporting seonghwa, self hatred, kissing

——————————————————————————

“you’re judging me, aren’t you,” you mumble from your position behind seonghwa. he stands in the door to your room, brows furrowed and hand covering his mouth. you can’t tell whether it’s in shock, pity, or disgust. probably a mixture of all three.

he hums in response, taking a few steps into your room. he’s careful to avoid the piles of clothes that litter your floor. it doesn’t leave much room for him to walk, but he tries nonetheless.

“i’m not judging you, darling,�� he comes to a stop in front of your unmade bed, “i’d never judge you for something like this.”

the door swings shut as you kick it with your foot, and with a deep sigh you take a few steps into your bedroom. you get to your bed quicker than seonghwa had since you knew the path well by now. every few steps you reach a new pile of clothes, and you gently push it to the side with your socked feet. it’s less for yourself, more so to make it easier for seonghwa to traverse around your room without tripping up.

“don’t lie, hwa,” there’s a pile of books at the end of your bed that you push to the side to clear a space for the two of you to sit. your thighs meet the mattress first. it takes a second for seonghwa to follow, “i know you hate the mess. i really didn’t mean to let it get this bad.”

“i know, sweetheart,” he coos as he places an arm around your shoulders. his grip is firm as he pulls you to lean against him. it doesn’t take much for you to get the message and lay your head on his shoulder, “but i don’t mind.”

“i’m still sorry.”

he snorts as you apologise.

“you’re sorry for your own room being a mess?”

well, when he puts it like that, it sounds silly. it’s your space to mess up, he’s right about that. and he’s never one to dictate what you can and can’t do, especially not in your own apartment. not to mention that he loves you - something that he never fails to make clear - even with all the emotional baggage you carry with you.

still, as you stare up at his face and watch as his gaze flickers around, theres a pang that shoots through your heart. it feels a lot like guilt. like you’ve disappointed him in some way. and to be honest, you might have, but he’d never tell you that.

he never did tell you those sorts of things because he always claims that you could never disappoint him. you doubt that, but he defends himself to the ends of the earth. its annoying, sometimes, but not nearly as much as it is endearing. his pouty lips that only ever appear when he’s fighting his case always had a way of making you give in to him.

“yes,” you double down on your apology, “i feel like i should be trying harder, like i always tell you i will.”

he sighs, pulling away from you just a little so he can look you in the eyes. he’s stern, but shows no signs of anger. no sign of disappointment.

“and i always tell you that you don’t need to try harder when you’re already trying your best.”

“yes, but-” he puts his hand over your mouth to shut you up. you whined from behind it, briefly tempted to lick it before deciding that it’s not the time. you could save jokingly around with him until later.

“you’re burnt out,” he drops his hand, resting it on your thigh. there’s a soft look on his face that makes you feel precious. it’s not often you feel that way, but somehow seonghwa always brings that side out of you, “and if you carry on pushing yourself, it’ll only get worse. you need time to recover, darling. you can try harder when you feel like you can, okay?”

you can’t help it when you put your hand over his own and give it a thankful squeeze. it isn’t much, but with the way his body visibly relaxes and a tiny smile rises to his face, you know that he gets the message.

it’s like that for a few moments. just the two of you in silence sitting in the middle of a room that looks like a bomb could’ve gone off. his eyes still flicker around the room every so often, but they always return to yours. and you’re more than happy to sit and revel in the genuine softness that he stares at you with. you hate to put a label on exactly what the look means, but you can’t help but settle on the word love.

it’s rare that you’re the one to initiate intimacy, but in that moment you couldn’t stop yourself. it’s like seonghwa’s plush lips have their own gravitational pull, dragging you closer and closer until yours are on his, moving in perfect time with one another. his hand stays in your knee, offering comfort. your hand stays atop him, grounding yourself as you let your usually loud mind fade into peaceful silence.

and then he pulls away, chest rising up and down as he struggles to catch his breath. his pink lips glisten as they part, the layer of your spit you left on them acting as a gloss. a giggle leaves your mouth as you take the hand that isn’t glued to seonghwa’s to wipe it away.

“you take such good care of me,” he coos as you pull your fingers back.

“i hardly think that’s true,” you refute with a small smile, “you’re the one who always has to look after me…”

he hums.

“i do it because you’re special to me,” there’s pressure against your thigh as he squeezes it, “you’re the leia to my han, my rosie to my sam! you’re my girl…”

“and you’re the biggest nerd i’ve ever met.”

“glad to see you’re feeling better,” he smirks, “now you get cosy and i’ll make a start on cleaning this monstrosity.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa fanfic

[andraxicated]

Pairings: blade x reader | jing yuan x reader Synopsis: After a tragedy that consumed two of his companions, the face that he secretly longed for unexpectedly appeared before him once again. But this time his heart is filled with hate. Tags: angst | stellaron hunter! reader | enemies to lovers | past tragedies a/n: can I say the stellaron hunters are the coolest faction ever. like its where badass bitches belong! | i'll release jing yuan's route some time later lmaoo i'm so bored i do shit like this | trying out my favs with fav/popular tropes while i still have the brain

During that time when Blade got caught by the Xianzhou, you felt like your heart leaped out of your chest as soon as you heard the news from Kafka, who was sporting a rather laid-back smile.

"What? Don't look at me like that. Bladie is going to be fine. He's a big guy now." she said while going through your own collection of coats, something you picked up while shopping with her and the guy that follows behind like a guard dog.

He always looked at you with a scowl when you were a new recruit. Simply speaking, if looks could kill, you'd be dead long before this unserious turn of events...where Kafka also got caught. Yet this time upon silently watching the fiasco from somewhere, you're not the least bit worried. How could you when the woman herself was smiling like a maniac as she was caught by the master diviner. You seriously think it's time for you to leave this group of wild lunatics who casually gets taken as prisoners.

As you sigh and leave, Kafka's voice suddenly rings in your ear.

"Be patient, Elio will talk to you soon about a very important mission."

A mission that entails "saving" her but unfortunately, Blade had escaped and is standing before you with the usual expression on his face. Sure, this guy probably carries a lot of baggage but you can't help but feel uncomfortable with him. Especially when a little fight occurs between the two of you about who gets to save Kafka.

"What are you doing? Elio tasked me with this. I met him!"

"..."

Then he suddenly takes off while you follow after him, taking down enemies behind like some kind of sidekick while he attempts to take the spotlight of appearing before the trailblazers. But of course, you don't let him. You remain firm in doing what Elio told you, glaring at Blade while holding off the pursuers together.

You roll your eyes as he acts a little goofy in your sight, acting all charismatic with his sword drawn and all that. You even failed to hold your laughter with the way he dove, quickly pulling out your phone to snap a photo of Blade, then sending it to Silver Wolf because you're too scared of the consequences if you dare send it to the group chat. Blade might actually kill you if that happens.

look at him, he looks so stupid

But unbeknownst to you, the general himself saw you that time, and for him, it seemed like everything stopped and faded into the background. Your swaying hair and glowing eyes were what stood out at first. But then—you also had a face that eerily resembled someone from his past.

It is now revealed to the Xianzhou that the Stellaron Hunters aren't threats. You had no reason to come back to the Luofu anymore, it's all up to their alliance on what to do with the problem they're currently facing. The Stellaron Hunters had done their part as Kafka had said, but before you could board the spacecraft, you suddenly voiced out your decision—or rather, Elio's decision for you.

It felt ridiculous, really, listening to someone and doing whatever they tell you like a dog. It didn't feel good to you but as soon as you landed in the Luofu, something pulled you to stay there just as Elio had said.

"I'm staying. You guys should go ahead."

Kafka turned to you with a little smile on her face, seemingly understanding the situation. But surprisingly, Blade stiffly turned and had an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed mad—his furrowed eyebrows were a clear indication.

"Why?!" he's a man of few words but this single question made his voice akin to a roar. Even Kafka turned and boarded the craft, leaving you and Blade alone.

"Why not? Elio told me." You lied, he never told you to stay. Yes, he had an influence with his persuading words. But naturally, you'll take this route to feed on your curiosity because it always feels like there are missing pieces inside you. "I'll be staying here and that's final. It's none of your concern." You said while crossing your arms and Blade's eyes squinted.

You saw that he has his fists clenched, veins popping out as you raised your brows, also getting mad at whatever show he was putting on.

"What is it to you? Can't the Stellaron Hunters function without me?" And when he doesn't reply, you just roll your eyes and waved to leave.

Blade watches you go farther and farther until you're a dot in his sight, just like the moment when you followed after the woman who made him suffer over and over again. Your cold lifeless eyes and your face lined with blood as you watched the life drain out of him will forever be a memory that haunts him.

You weren't one of them. But when he saw you once again in this lifetime, he decided...that you'll also have to pay the price.

#ok bye im tired #who did this to you is coming soon #i refuse to remove that from the narrative #honkai star rail headcanons #blade x reader #blade x reader angst #blade x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail blade #honkai star rail #hsr angst #hsr x reader #blade x y/n #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines

[eitaababe]

EVEN IT'S A LIE !

epilogue.

[ a / n ; i finished! who would've thought. ]

series masterlist. | previous.

— two years later !

after having to deal with the baggage from ao'nung, the past couple of years had been nothing short of focusing on yourself. with the help of your friends, you were able to find yourself again, assuring yourself you'd never let a man dictate the way you felt about yourself ever again.

of course, avoiding ao'nung when you go to the same university is nearly impossible. you see each other in passing every few months or so, trying your best to limit any sort of contact with each other.

you'd grown closer with rotxo, with him being a better friend to you than you ever could have expected. it's strange, how well you're able to avoid ao'nung when your best friends with the two people closest to him.

still, the limited contact keeps the damage to a minimum.

because you'd be lying if you said you didn't think of him from time to time, the three words he claimed to be nothing but the truth. and how you were deceived into feeling the same.

but you're content, and over time you'd started to find yourself again. making it a weekly thing to just go out on your own, to your favorite cafe for some alone time.

so when you walk in, the last thing you expect to see is ao'nung's face behind the counter, an apron tied around his figure.

you feel your throat go dry when his eyes widen, and he tries to keep as professional as he can, clearing his throat before speaking up. "what can i get for you today?"

"uhm," you stutter, blinking multiple times before bringing yourself back to reality. it's more than a shock, seeing him in a place that was supposed to bring you peace, and now is making your head spin in such a way it makes you forget your usual order. "just a iced chai, please."

"you wanna take a muffin with that?"

you're surprised as the question slips out his mouth. you've always liked to pair your drink with some sort of muffin over the years, a small detail you definitely didn't expect him to remember.

"uh, yes please. how about a-"

"blueberry." he says quietly and in sync with you as he jots it down casually. you don't understand how he seems to be so nonchalant over this, like the interaction isn't so out of the blue for him.

you both stand there silently as he finishes up the order, and you pay, your eyes meeting after. and when they do, it's like you could fall into him all over again. his eyes are like the ocean, waves so dangerous yet you can't help but want to jump in. you have to pull your gaze away, breaking you both out the trance.

"look, i'm- i'm really sorry," he breathes out, and taking this as an opportunity as nobody else is in line behind you, and the cafe is experiencing its dead hour. "i know it was years ago, but i was an asshole. really. and i just- i've worked on myself, and i've had time to reflect, and i still can't believe i did what i did."

you smile at the sincerity of his voice, and you can do nothing but believe him. it's true, he's grown as a person in the past years and so have you. you can practically see how he's matured, carrying himself with a calm sense of confidence, different from the cockiness that once was.

"it's alright, really," you assure, nodding as you're finally able to hold a civil conversation after all this time. "i mean- we're both really different people now. we've grown, and learned, and it's water under the bridge, honestly. and i know it might not mean much," i chuckle. "but i was finally able to bring myself to forgive you."

"it's a lot," he admits, smiling back at you with a certain sweetness behind it. "it's everything. really." he assures, and this time, you're sure he means it.

after a few smiling moments you glance down, deciding to take a leap.

"would you like to join me? maybe for just a bit, i know you're working. but.. just as friends."

because despite what ao'nung did to you, there's always a soft spot for him in your heart. always a part of you that will know him, no matter how much he changes. and maybe you don't realize it either, but it's just the same for him.

his smile grows even wider at the invitation, and you can feel your heart swell at the sight.

"i'd love to."

[🏷️ ; taglist. / closed ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @halibanana @teyums @lightskinloak @ipoopedmypants47 @aonungmybf @il0veheartz @chittakii @jjkclub @universal-s1ut @ilovejakesullysdick @calums-betch @izuoyarmin @yeosxxx @cl0esblogg @alwayswndr @iheartamajiki @jenniferdixon05207 @manumanulau @myh3artttt @sugarrush-blush @be3flow3r @cupidsl0ve

#[ — ⌛️; even if it's a lie ! ] #[ — 🌎 ; avatar ] #ao'nung avatar #avatar x reader #ao'nung smau #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung series #ao'nung #ao’nung fluff #aonung avatar #aonung x reader #aonung fluff #aonung angst #ao'nung angst #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung fluff #avatar angst #avatar smau

[katz-chow]

baggage claim

a/n: having a bad night, this is my version of comfort…also self indulgent like most of my writing.

warnings: chubby!fem!reader, parental trauma, body issues, soft simon, hurt/comfort

there’s a lot of things that simon have not experienced quite yet, such things is the american airport system and how complicated tsa is. however, he landed, he walked, and there he’s faced with the rounding carousel of multicolored bags and suitcases.

he checked his ticket and looked up at the display of numbered areas. ‘11’, that’s the one.’ he watched the mouth of the conveyor belt, its plastic fringes flap against a purple suitcase…definitely not his. but still his eyes trained on that particular spot. then he let his mind wander.

long distance relationships were hard, long distance military relationships were harder. plane rides from deployment back to manchester then plane rides to another continent across the pond, lovely, just how he wanted to spend his first few days on leave: absolutely jet-lagged.

but then he thought of you, precious, precious you…oh his darling lovie and how your eyes shines whenever they make contact with his. you made it worth it. you made every crying baby on the plane, every overpriced water, and every awkward “thank you for your service” and then a bad american accented “thanks”; you made this airport journey worth it.

from here he spots his camo duffle. making way through the people, who’s eyes also trained on the infinite, snaking black, he hoisted it up and carried it with the strap on his shoulder.

his phone buzzed, whatsapp. you.

‘i’m in the lobby, by gate 2!!’

‘I’ll see you there.’

‘🥰😻🫶’

‘❤️’

and just like that, a few minutes later and a lot of sign-reading, he escaped the labyrinth of an american international airport. you stood there, hoodie and sweats on and your head bowed towards your phone. the dark sky outside and the oddly green-ish fluorescent made you look washed out, dull even. but simon knew you, he found you, he always did.

you look up, you wave, a smile adorned your face. you didn’t run up to him and tackle him in a hug that only a soldier could’ve done. and he didn’t have to lift you off the ground from the momentum of the hug, his bag dropping to the tile flooring.

instead you stood still, phone in pocket, as you waited for your boyfriend to get to you. simon didn’t understand, but he figured you might just be tired—which was fair, so was he. so he dropped his bag and wrapped his much larger arms around you, squeezing you tight and breathing you in, nose buried into the crook of your neck. “missed you…”

you smile, arms tight in between your chests as he holds you. he lets go eventually and you feel your body relax. “missed you too. let’s go home” you smiled politely.

simon’s eyebrows furrowed for a quick second but followed you anyway. thoughts ran through his head as he looks at the highway in front of him, one of his hands on your thigh as you drove the two of you home. he recalls the interaction you two had in the airport lobby. you’re distant, opting to curl up into a hug rather than hugging back and rocking side to side or jumping up and down. something’s different, something’s wrong.

his mind snaps back too as you took the exit, signaling the end is near of your driving adventure. the hum of the engine and the bumps of the road filled the air. no music. he furrowed his eyebrows again, medical mask now thrown away as he got into the safety of your car.

and now the safety of your bedroom, which is oddly quiet as he laid in bed, back slightly up as to prop himself up against the headboard. his eyes look at you drowsily as you sat on your vanity in front of the bed. you worked the multitude of skincare on your face and neck, patted it dry, and then climbed into bed, face the same emotion.

simon couldn’t take it anymore. “are you okay, lovie?”

you hummed in assurance, opting to set him down by wrapping your arms around his waist, urging him to lay down with you. he does and he holds you close, sleep flooded him, and just as quickly his succumbs.

he woke up to the sound of a hurt animal next to him, clearly in pain. he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and looked over at this hurt animal. it was you, curled up, and softly crying.

his heart stopped as he noticed your trembling figure, even with your face pulled away from him. "lovie? are you okay?'

you hold back a whimper as you tried your best to hold back the tremble in your voice. "i'm okay...go back to sleep simon."

he grumbled as he shifted over to you, wrapping his burly arms around, pulling you close. "tell me what's wrong."

the thoughts echoed in your head, resulting in a chill that ran through each muscle of your body, or lack thereof. your mother's words criticizing how you look flows through you mind, drowing out simon's. you grip onto the back of his hand and moved it away from your stomach, ashamed of how plush it was. you can just imagine it, the way it spills out of your shirt, the different rolls, how you sit, how you stand relaxed... you hated it.

simon poked his head up, surprised by your adjustment, but respecting it anyway. his big palm then instead rubs your arm comfortingly. "will you tell me?"

"i hate it."

"hate what?" he inquired, voice low and rumbling. his breath felt hot against your ear as he whispered, fighting sleep away while also wrapped up in your soft blankets.

you finally catch your breath and turn over to him, tucking yourself under his chin, feeling his stubble as you do. you sniffled, opting to breath in his scent and distract yourself from the past with the present. "i don't like how i look."

he sighed and clicked his tongue, arms tightening around you. "has this been bothering you all day?'

he felt you nod under him as he nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head. "what's wrong with how you look, did someone say something?'

he felt you respond again, a shake of your head which led to more rubbing against his neck. "i just don't like how...big i am."

"you don't like your stomach? how soft and jiggly it is? how warm it makes my hands fill, hmm?" he sniffed and sighed, closing his eyes on top of your head. the scent of your lingering shampoo quickly lulled him in. "i love how you look, and don't say any of that shirt your mum said. don't say that shit about how i deserve better than you or something."

you moved your head away from his warm chest to protest, to say that it's true but he growled and held you tighter, preventing you from moving away. "don't even try. it's true alright? i love you and how your stomach feels when i knead it."

you whined and sniffled, his love filling up in your chest-which was once heavy with doubt. it was silly, you decided, that you think he wouldn't like you after coming back from deployment just to stare at you and gag at how ugly you look. of course not.

"you're my baby, you're mine." he reassured you, a pat and rub on your head and then a kiss on your forehead. "and i think you're beautiful."

"okay," you mumbled as he hummed a distant song that you recognize but don't quite remember all the words to. he hummed and kissed you and rubbed your head, fingers raking through the strands.

"now can we sleep?" he complained as you feel a smile form on his lips.

you pulled away from him, pouting audibly, "it's so cold."

"woman, i am literally hold you under two blankets."

yeah you were going to be alright.

#katzwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #fanfic #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x female reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod

[trashiewrites]

Hello💗💗💗, I was wondering if you could write headcanons about König, (fluffy and spicy), I haven't seen to much of him, so I would really appreciate it.

Kiss, kiss👄

OH HOHOHOHO ANON THX FOR FREEDOM! Alright, I read Wikipedia. Now let's get to this! IM SORRY IF I BUTCHERED HIM VERY LIMITED INFO

WARNING AFTER THE FLUFFY IS SOME SPOICY AND DOES MENTION KINK NOT IN SPECIFIC BUT YEAG

ALSO READER IS FEMALE

We Gonna start sweet~

Meeting: 

+You met him on a mission and he caught your attention! You knew he wasn't very chatty but that was no biggie. 

+ You accidentally scared him off cause he isn't used to such attention. Poor baby needed a minute. 

+You didn't know but you thought he just didn't like you. 

+When you stopped talking to him, he would search you out. Cause he liked to listen and no one talks to him. 

+ you got the hint after a bit of him making very subtle hints. 

Relationship:

 +Definitely a friends before lovers thing going on here. 

+Not even being his closest friend, you barely saw him without his face covered. EVEN DATING, IT TOOK HIM A YEAR! Then again, I do not blame him. 

+ If he shows you his face, you are under oath to not tell a single soul. If he shows you his face, HE TRUSTS YOU WITH HIS LIFE! YOU COULD NEVER BREAK THAT!!

+You really get him to reach the limits of his comfort zones when it comes to PDA. He really likes it but he's much too scared to initiate it himself. 

+ Bubbly GF with tall intimidating BF All the way. Sir scared men away for miles and not a single soul knows he's such a sweetheart. 

+very much a gentleman, the Gentlest of man's ever FR FR!

+YOU TWO ALSO HAVE POKE BATTLES! POKING EACH OTHER RAPIDLY TILL SOMEONE CANT TAKE IT. Mainly you, cause this man plays a dirty poke game...

+he loves to listen to you talk about your day while he does his various hobbies.

+Once you finish he like to show you what he did. Most of the time its really cool and he’s so proud of himself when you like what he did.

Comforting:

+Comforting each other was def a challenge for both of you. König has to reach out of his comfort zone to be there for you when you needed him most and you comfort König without overwhelming him and making it worse.

+It took a few months to get it down for both of you.  

+When he is stressed he realized soft reassuring touch helps him a lot. Touch is huge for him and luckily you saw no problem with that. 

+The best way to calm him down is in a private place, remove his helmet, and rub his head. Running your fingers through his hair. 

+for you, he tries his best to be ideal but, in the happenstance where he can't, he will still be with you the entire time. Listening intently to all your issues, he knows he can't fix all your issues and cure all your pain. But he wishes to help you love your scars and carry your baggage. 

+You two rely on each other, and to him, he can't see it any other way. He is overjoyed by having someone willing to understand and learn how to help him. 

+In turn, he is your forever, he hasn't told you yet but it's in his head already. He isn't leaving and is def ready to kill for you.

OKAY OKAY

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NOW ITS TIME FOR SOME RANDOM SPICY SHIT

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LOOK AWAY CHILDREN

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BEGONE NOW

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OKAY, they should be gone

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I REPEAT NO KIDS! NADA YOU HAVE HAD PLENTY WARNING FROM THIS POINT.

Okay spicy time:

X König I could see as a switch.. but I'm more leaning to a bottom. If he had to dom he’d be the softest dom ever.

X being dom scared him cause he doesn’t want to hurt you and that terrifies him. You reassured him that's its okay and he can try if he wants.

X HE DID WANT TOO

X Surprisingly, he handles himself well. I mean r e a l well. Like you were screaming in pleasure well. That surprised you alot.

X “are you sure you never done this?” He only nodded back.

X when you top, he melt. By the end of the night he’s so high of bliss that it takes him a minute to move.

X and if you wanna know, yes, he is packin’. A real good balance of length and girth.

X about kinks though, he has some he wants to do. But he doesn’t tell you till you asked him. What chocked you most is how much he wanted to try. Like a list…

X NOT THAT YOU WERE AGAINST IT!

X You went through marking all the ones you didnt feel comfy with and he was very hap. He now refers to his “To do list of Sexy time things” when he feels spicy.

#könig #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #modern warfare #cod mw #cod mw22 #könig HCs

[oniku-niku]

Katsuki was pacing back and forth in his living room after he read the last text you sent.

What kind of news do you mean? Good news? Bad news? Fuck, were you planning to tell him you’re staying there permanently? His hands have been clammy ever since and he thought to ask you but he decided against it in case you were busy finalizing anything before leaving. 

“Katsuki, settle down. (Y/n)’s gonna get here when they get here, Honey.” his mom’s voice called out from where she was sitting on the couch. He gave a small huff before plopping down right next to her. Though she seemed calm on the outside, Katsuki could see the slight bouncing of her leg as she was reading the newspaper. 

Mitsuki Bakugou wasn’t stupid, she could tell something happened between the two of you. Her son has been calmer in the past two years than he ever has in his life. She’s noticed how he always casts a glance at his phone, a sparkle erupting from his eyes when he reads a message from you. She wanted to ask about it but chose not to because watching her son fumble while typing was kind of endearing. 

Though she didn’t talk to Katsuki about it, she did gossip with Masaru when the two were in their shared bed for the night. 

“Our Katsuki has grown up a lot, hasn’t he?” she sighed, glancing over at her husband. He let out a chuckle, removing his glasses and resting it on the bedside table.

“He sure has, I know you’ve been enjoying seeing him all flustered, but imagine what he’s going to be like when (Y/n) does come back.” and the two started giggling with each other.

“Oh lord, I hope we get a video of it. (Y/n)’s done a number on him, haven’t they.” She agreed.

“Dude what does (Y/n) mean by ‘news’?? Do they not know how rude it is to just leave someone on a cliff hanger like that?! And then we have to wait a whole day to find out the answer?! This is a sick game.” Denki whined from the other couch across from them. Him and the rest of the group were in his house just waiting around. 

“You know what can get your mind off of it?” Mitsuki laughed, looking up from the papers in her hand. Denki looked at her with hope dancing his eyes. “You kids can go do your jobs as heroes.” she stated and the way Denki’s face dropped at her answer made her stand up with a chuckle.

“Honestly, their flight is 10 hours. Instead of waiting in my house and torturing yourselves, go and find some criminals and stop eating my food!” she exclaimed before making her way to the kitchen.

“That’s cold Mrs. Katsuki’s Mom! But I mean if the city really needs me or whatever I guess I’ll go.” Denki playfully rolled his eyes before getting off the sofa. The rest of them followed suit and before they could make their way towards the door, “Yeah yeah, here are some snacks for the road! Be safe!” they all took the cookies from her hands and waved thanks before leaving. 

It was an excruciating 10 hours, not only for Katsuki with the waiting around while he got bored fighting criminals, but also for you, who’s ass was feeling numb due to sitting for so long. The little ‘ding dong’ from the pilot’s intercom rang.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we have at last reached our destination here at Air Japan, we now ask that you put on your seat belts and give us a few moments to get everyone landed safely.” and with that, the sound of everyone’s seat belts clicked into place as the plane began its descent. 

“Welcome to Tokyo International Airport, our flight attendants will help with carry-ons, all luggage can be found at baggage claim on the lower floor, thank you for flying with Air Japan.” and everyone was bumbling to get their stuff to get off the plane.

It wasn’t until you were walking through the exit tunnel that your heart started palpitating, you could feel it in your palms as you were gripping your bag. The deep breath that filled your lungs did little to help with the nervousness in your steps as you got closer to the entrance. 

What am I so worried about? I saw these guys on Katsuki’s birthday when they all flew over. Why am I nervous to see them all again now?

You made your way down a level to get the large suitcase that arrived separately before looking around for your large group of friends. You thought you should call one of them but then a flash of blond hair caught your eye. 

Through the other side of the glass wall was Katsuki, just Katsuki, staring back at you with a faint smile resting on his face. You took another deep breath before making your way towards him, but you barely got three steps outside before he threw himself onto you. His arms wrapped itself around you, pulling you into his embrace. His nose took in your scent as if it was the one thing keeping him from falling. 

“You’re here, finally.” he grumbled into your hair and that was all it took for you to wrap your arms around him too. The two of you stood there for a good minute, arms not wanting to let the other go. He reluctantly did when the sound of a honking taxi ruined the moment. 

“It’s good to be back..” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and the next inhale you took in was filled with his intoxicating cologne. 

“Come on, you must be tired, let’s get you back home.” he brought you to his car and when the passenger’s door was open, there was a gift bag resting on the seat. You made eye contact with him as he went around to the driver’s side.

“It was supposed to be the gift for you when you left. I told you I’d keep it until you came back.” he smirked before you both settled into the car. He motioned for you to take the gift out and you took no time reaching in. 

The soft fabric made contact with your fingertips before you pulled it out. In your hands rested a vermilion knitted scarf. On both ends of it were embroidered the explosion flares that matched the ones on the back of his hero mask. You couldn’t help the grin that came to your face when you saw it.

“You did this?” and you knew the answer before that question left your mouth.

“Yeah…it took a bit longer than I’d like to admit. I wanted you to have it since Canada tends to be colder than here. It killed me when I couldn’t give it to you before you left.” he explained before starting the car. 

“Well, lucky I came back when it’s starting to get cold again huh?” The smile you sent him eased his worries as the car started taking off. 

The two of you were silent for a few minutes, only the soft music playing was heard.

“So- where is everyone else? From your messages I thought everyone was coming?” you broke the silence.

“Oh, they figured you’d be exhausted from the new time adjustment so they’ll let you rest until tomorrow,” he answered.

“By the way, Izuku thought since I was the one picking you up, that you should stay with us? We have your guest bedroom all set up if you’re okay with it..” he added, his eyes not wanting to meet yours in case you rejected the offer.

“That sounds good. I really need to sleep in a familiar place tonight.” you didn’t know how tired you were until a yawn escaped you, and the soft music wasn’t helping at keeping you awake. Before you knew it, you were passed out in Katsuki’s car to the feeling of his steady driving and the passing road signs. 

When he parked, Katsuki knew he had to be gentle, let you get as much rest as you could. He went over to the passenger’s side and hooked his arms under you to carry you out. His dad opened the front door for him (he heard the car pull in and the driver’s doors shutting) and went to help bring your stuff inside. 

Katsuki brought you to the guest room and settled you down on the bed. Your unconscious self immediately wiggled further into the soft pillows as soon as he draped the blankets over you. Masaru left your bags on the floor at the end of the bed for you and the two left you alone to rest for the night.

When the next morning came around, you were disturbed from your sleep by the sound of loud yelling from the other side of the guest door.

“-Come on! It’s 1 in the afternoon! They’ve been asleep for 14 hours straight! I wanna see them!” that was Denki’s voice.

“Okay, just for that, you’ll be the last to see them. Leave my house.” Katsuki’s voice rang out. Denki laughed at his stern voice knowing he wasn’t serious. You mustered up the energy to get up, taking a moment to stretch, and going to open the door.

“(Y/N)!” Denki yelled before glomping you into a hug. You hugged back before meeting eyes with the rest of the group. Izuku was the next one to be hugged.

“I’m glad you got back alright.” Shinsou grinned before going in for his hug. One by one, everyone else got a hug too and they all let you freshen up before you met them all downstairs, meeting Mitsuki and Masaru’s hugs on the way. 

“So! What’s the big news that you wanted to tell us? I’ve been on the edge all day.” Denki asks as soon as you sit down in between Shoto and Katsuki on the big couch.

“Well, I got promoted at my firm! They want me to supervise the junior designers!” you exclaimed, but the grin on your face slowly disappeared when their faces didn’t show any excitement as you’d hoped. Bakugou could feel his heart steeling up to hear you say what he dreaded.

“Does that mean…you’ll be there permanently?” Shoto asked, the frown on his face only making his puppy eyes more heartbreaking.

“That’s the best part! They’re transferring me to their newest branch right here in Japan! I’m staying here!” and that was when they roared to life with cheers. Bakugou felt his heart settle down with joy.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT! I WAS ABOUT TO CRY!” Izuku yelled from his seat. And for the next several hours, you all spent the time talking to each other about everything that’s happened in the past two years. Katsuki couldn’t get the smile off his face, not that he wanted to in the first place.

When the evening came, you all separated ways, making sure to make plans to hang out soon to make up for lost time. 

“Want to take a walk with me?” Katsuki asked, his hand holding the scarf he made you. You nodded before going to put on your shoes. He gently wrapped the scarf around your neck before you two went to take in the November air. 

The sound of wind whistling through the autumn leaves accompanied you two for a few minutes. 

“Hey, do you mind if I read you something? I don’t think there’s a better time than now…” he trailed off, fumbling with something from his pocket. You nodded, watching him pull out a small envelope with a card inside, and you swore you could hear him taking deep breaths to calm himself. 

“Racking my brain for many days and many nights, For the right words to describe the way you make me feel. Like the fireplace warmth on a cold winter night, Like the first bite of food after starving for a meal,

Like discovering a new bloom On a long lasting plant. If I don’t say it now,  I might lose the chance.

(Y/n), I’m in love with you, I’ll say it a million times over if I must, I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes, For me to gain back your trust.” 

His voice wavered as he read over what he wrote for you two years ago. And the two of you stopped walking as he finished. His stomach was on fire and it shows through the heavy blush on his face (He blames the cold weather).

“Did you write that?” you asked, not looking over to him, your breathing was stilled, not wanting to believe your ears.

“I did. I meant to give it to you with the scarf.” he cast his eyes down at his shoes. He prayed to anything that was holy that you still had some feelings for him, that he still had a chance to make it right, that he hadn’t lost you.

“Do you mean it?” your voice was so quiet, he almost missed the question. 

“Every word.” was his immediate answer. 

He was done being stupid. He was done denying his feelings for you. He was done with his massive ego that almost cost your friendship.

“(Y/n), if you don’t feel the same way for me anymore, I completely understand. I royally messed up and I hurt you. But if some part of you still feels the same way, please give me the chance to show you how much you mean to me.” he stumbled and walked to stand in front of you. His movement had you looking up and making contact with his red eyes that had determination written all over. 

“I just, don’t want to risk getting hurt again if this is a spur of the moment thing.” you explained to him and he was quick to shake his head.

“No, I promise you I’d sooner allow Shinsou to use his quirk on me than to ever hurt you again. It’s not a spur of the moment, I’ve waited two years for you and I’ll wait even more if you need time.” His eyes were begging you to believe him, and you’d never seen him like this before.

It tugged at your heartstrings, it nipped at your fingertips, it engulfed you whole; how much you loved him.

“One date.” you held up a finger to him to indicate your point. And his eyes lit up. His heartbeat raced.

“One date. Okay, okay good, great. Thank you!” he nodded and before he knew it, he planted a kiss on your cheek when he came in for a hug. It took the both of you by surprise, but it wasn’t unwelcome, indicated by the blushes on your cheeks. 

Although he didn’t have a day in mind yet, Katsuki was planning to make you feel special whenever the day may be, and all the days after that. Yes, Shoto has called him whipped at least 6 times already, but he didn’t care (because, yes, he is.) There’s not a chance in hell he’s messing this up, he’s completely and hopelessly enamored of you, it’s about time he expressed it don’t you think?

➤[Series Master List] ➤[Blog Master List]

Taglist: @tspice283 @hypernovaxx @htmllost @windex-princess-ami @officiallydarkgeek @thekaylahub @definetlythinkimanalien @lunamoonbby @jasmixs @graywrites20 @mikeyswifie @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tati-the-fangirl @pasteldaze @nerd-nowandforever @moonroyalt @blaaiissee @thesunxwentblack @arghypsse @leathernourishingshoepolish @bo0tyyyshakerr9000 @deadpoolsvodka @bokutos-biddys @blxck-coffee @sauce-pansexuals @lovejuliana @chxrrychips @deepressed @purplepotato13 @kara062284-blog @nekogal16 @karasunoya @lainalainalain @kazuumii @keigopika @popcatx0 @yappydoo

#bakugou #bakugou smau #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smau #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha smau #bnha x reader smau #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki smau #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader smau #smau #fake texts #bnha fake texts #bakugou fake texts #bakugou x reader fake texts #fluff #angst #slow burn

[kimkhimhant]

ok i have a kimchay ask and it’s kinda two fold

when you first watched kp did you expect kimchay to be together at the end, or had you already accepted they werent gonna be endgame? and then also, what’s your biggest headcanon/favorite idea about what happens to kimchay post canon? when it ended and they werent together, did you have a first thought of like “i’d really like them to meet like this” or “i think they’d meet like this” or even “they’re never gonna be together”?

best wishes for getting back into fic writing mode!!!! 💝

i definitely did not expect them to be the couple with an open/unhappy ending :') the distress i experienced – little kim-hyperfixated me... i was a wreck. i've been a kim apologist from day one, so i was also really distressed over the reactions from so many people in the fandom lmao (i still am.. oops) but anyway. my immediate reaction was like.. "that's it? kim sent the song and chay cried and we don't get to see what happens next?" i am a firm believer of that moment being the turning point for them to slowly make their way back to each other.

i've written a few kimchay reconciliations by now, and i think my biggest headcanon is pretty consistent: that they come back together, but its different and better and also harder this time, because it's more genuine but also comes with all their baggage – Chay has anger and trauma in the aftermath of everything that's happened to him, and Kim doesn't have the Wik persona to hide behind, so all of his traumas and secrets are thrown into the mix.

honestly, when the show first ended, i was a little upset, but after thinking about it more i realized that something like this was essential in their relationship, in order for them to progress to a healthy place. Chay's idolization of Kim/Wik as an ideal had to be broken – Wik was a dream, on a pedestal in Chay's mind, and clearly him ghosting Chay repeatedly wasn't enough to disrupt that, but after everything that happens, Chay is forced to adjust his perception of Kim, and see him more as a person, with faults and flaws and fears and all. it's essential for a multitude of reasons – for Kim and for himself – because it balances out their power dynamics. Kim isn't an idol whose value is above Chay anymore – Chay has just as much worth – and also Kim isn't an emotionless god anymore – he's just as human and imperfect as Chay.

meanwhile, Kim is forced to confront his own mistakes and aversion to honesty and intimacy. he's forced to put in work to dismantle his own emotional walls and acknowledge his feelings and desires, because he can't just be Wik now, and because Chay isn't so naively enchanted by him. he has to be real and honest and let Chay in in order to keep him.

So i think, they'll absolutely end up together, in the end, no matter when it happens, and i think it'll be better than it was <3

thank you so much for this ask! i maybe got a little carried away on that last bit but i have a lot of feelings about it lol

#benji talks #asks #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd

[dominustempori]

SPOILER ALERT FOR THE GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE TRAILER!! (long post, fyi)

Alright Ghostheads, I'm writing all this down now, so I won't forget all these thoughts and observations I'm having JUST a few hours after this awesome teaser for the "Afterlife sequel" has dropped.

I'm sure I'm missing some bits here, so comments are duly welcome, just don't go all negative energy on me =)

Definitely felt a similar vibe to when the first trailer for "Afterlife" came out like 2 years ago now. Normal summer day, good background music, then...sh*t happens. Even worse than that burst of PK energy from the mine shaft. And yeah, I saw bits of "Day After Tomorrow," I'd be lying if I didn't get JUST a little hint of that, but only because, you know, massive storm system overwhelming the south shore of Manhattan. But anyway.

2. I SWEAR that one building shot from the side is 55 Central Park West, aka Spook Central. Probably not significant plot wise this time, just a nod to the original movie. And considering I toured some of the filming sites on my trip to NYC this past summer, SURE looks like it!

3. Deadly icicles ripping up the streets? Like the earthquake tearing up the asphalt in the original movie only BETTER!

4. The discourse is already happening about details...I know some people like Ecto 1-A from GB2, and some fans are still angry about "they ignored it in Afterlife! It's so canon! WTF Jason Reitman?" Yeah...missing the point? [They're not DELIBERATELY ignoring GB2! I LIKED GB2! A lot! Not perfect but still I LIKE IT! Probably a lot more than other fans! The film only had so much time to focus on the past to keep the story moving, so only put in so much of the lore to help a new audience along. That's my theory I'm sticking to it.]

ANYWAY...yes the car IS the original Ecto 1, NOT the 1-A (which was WAY too busy for its own good, just sayin'). I saw the plate on a freeze frame, it's Ecto 1, the original.

5. Enter the exposition cut scenes. or whatever you want to call them. Swear to God that Patton Oswalt, Kumail Nanjiani, Dan, McKenna, and Logan are NOT at Ray's Occult Books...I mean come on look at those glass cases! It's GOTTA be the NY Public Library (throwback!) Patton's character is most likely a staff member, probably a librarian (related to Alice? God I hope so!) [GBs do their research yo! If that's one thing I love about the IDW comics, is how Ray and Egon and Kylie RESEARCH.]

That one bit with the frozen dude with the eyepatch? Looks like a flashback. Like, maybe Manhattan in the...late 1800s? Recurring hauntings is def a thing in the GB universe. Another secret society? Which, yeah, they did to death (sorry) with the Gozer thing, especially in the video game.

6. Liking all the concerned closeups. Paul Rudd still looking good, and I REALLY hope Carrie Coon as Callie has full on dropped the baggage about not having her Dad in her life. Well, mostly. Turned me off from her QUITE a bit in Afterlife, but that's just me. Finn's hair lookin' good short, love how McKenna still rocks the OshKosh look, and Logan with the retro vibe.

7. James Acaster HAS TO BE an adult Oscar. I WILL fight people on this =) Not Louis' kid, not Janine's... (well, maybe?) Peter and Dana are OFFICIALLY still a couple, what's to stop Peter from adopting the boy he saved in GB2? Or at least, maybe they have their own kid later on...? Damn I hope he's Oscar. I mean come on, this is still "Ghostbusters: the Next Generation" in my mind.

8. HAUNTED LION STATUE!!! (Yeah, that's right from Real Ghostbusters...kinda) It's the Library! And on another freeze frame...it's going after Ray (GASP!) That little elevator? Maybe they're going to...Special Collections? Remember the video game? Maybe? Squee?

9. DUDE, it's attacking GBHQ! Blew the freakin' doors off! It's gonna...NO NOT LUCKY! Dude she (they?) is getting the short end of the stick again...first she gets possessed by Zuul and now...please don't kill off Lucky, Gil! Also OGBs FTW!!! yeah Winston! bad ass mf as always! And man does Pete look proper scared. Go Bill Murray!

10. I'm presuming that the big bad/entity was originally trapped and stored in the ECU, hence the blinking red light in the post credits scene from Afterlife. And it's whatever's pushing out the cinder blocks this time around...and freezing Lucky in the basement of HQ? And it's the...thing pushing its demon horns in...(so far others are calling it a minotaur - totally NOT. this guy is so reaching, i mean an old obscure RGB comic reference from a wiki page? dude, just...no. a cross between a White Walker and Slenderman? yeah THOSE I get. I'm personally thinking some ancient demon from a summoning gone wrong...or maybe right in this case.) any case, DUDE with those icy blue staring eyes and 20 feet tall...f*ck yeah.

11. Also F*CK yeah Paul and Carrie in the jumpsuits! YES!!!

12. Alright, I can sort of buy a hidden room in Kumail's character's (presumably?) apartment, secret door at the back of a kitchen pantry with some pretty lead/silver tiling...but, what's with the horn? (SUMMONING HORN! Read the Bartimaeus Trilogy people!) and the shackles? the bells? well, yeah noise to drive away evil spirits...or not? again... SECRET SOCIETY! Or maybe Lucky and Trevor have their own place now? Nah, maybe not...wait and see I guess.

13. Dude...Paul Rudd is TALL, boy! Would like to see if they've actually gone and married...or, too soon? Nah, romantic/life partners is good.

14. I WANT THAT RED WINTER JACKET WITH THE PATCH! SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY!

15. Also, Paul's reaction...SO my own after watching this. He is still fanboy-ing out and I LOVE IT.

Holy hell that was a long post. First genuine reactions on the day. Online journaling. All good.

OK peeps, let me have it. What are y'all thinking?

Until March 29!

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #frozen empire #ghostbusters afterlife #carrie coon #paul rudd #mckenna grace #logan kim #kumail nanjiani #patton oswalt #james acaster #original ghostbusters #Youtube #fin wolfhard

[iratusmus]

so bizarre to me when people give fiona a redemption arc like making her evil wasnt literally like the fundamental core of making her an actually interesting character. like . ok actually i was mostly planning on just leaving the post as this but im going to make a proper post whining about this because ive seen it far too often for my liking.

it appears to me that a lot of people do this because they dislike fiona/scourge which is like. sure i get it. but you could literally just... break them up . and have her continue being awful on her own. like scourge is not the reason she switched sides and i find the idea. 1) a bit misogynistic frankly but thats more of a personal gripe than anything else like god forbid a woman make bad choices of her own volition and not because a man forced her hand into doing it (YES i am aware that abuse makes this more complicated than that but also we .... already have a relationship in archie sonic that fits this exact bill. yes it wasnt written well but the wonder of fan works is that you can always make it better. so why are we repeating it again 1:1) and 2) demeaning to the point of her character.

like. ok. lets go over the facts real quick. as a kid fiona got put in robotnik's salt mines and got accidentally left behind bc sonic & co couldnt find her. she realized that nobody was going make the effort to go save her, so she dug herself out and started life on the run as a treasure hunter/thief. she didnt ever really accept the fact that sonic and mighty not saving her wasnt really their fault, and even after becoming a freedom fighter, nobody ever said anything or apologized or said "hey wow that kind of sucks you went through all that". she never really made any actual friends within the ff or formed any meaningful bonds. she starts dating sonic, but its pretty clear that the only reason they're dating is that she's his rebound post The Slap. the moment her history with bean & bark came up - after she used that knowledge to save everybody - sally immediately turns on her and sonic is the only person to try to stick up for her. as bark and bean leave, bean also insinuates that fiona isnt really a freedom fighter, and that she's still basically one of them.

fiona is a "bad" trauma survivor. when i say "bad" i mean in opposition to the ideal tumblr trauma survivor - the sad poor uwu bean whose trauma only inclines them hurt themselves and they become more sympathetic kind etc. as a result. fiona, on the other hand, blames sonic (whose fault this is, frankly, not) for her experiences, and becomes more jaded and mean. she has no real support system and people repeatedly tell her that she hasnt changed and that she wont change and she cant change. shes already got all this baggage by the time her relationship with scourge starts carrying actual weight - he's offering her a way out. if none of them are ever going to really accept her being "good", then she might as well just give into her worst impulses and join hands with scourge, who, notably, has no stake in this - he doesnt have any obligation to be her friend like the freedom fighters, and more than that he likes her specifically because of the part of her that everybody else hates. the important part here is that he encouraged her to switch sides, he didnt make her switch sides.

id say fiona's character in a writing sense is an exploration of the failings of the freedom fighters to support a trauma victim, and how those failings, while unintentional, lead that victim to specifically turn against them. she says "ok actually screw all of you guys" and gives up on trying to be good because nobody ever gave her any real encouragement and decides to put herself on a path of self-destructive revenge and inflicting her misery onto the general population. we can also recall at this point that this motivation is entirely removed from scourge and you can literally break them up and still keep her evil.

the other important point here is that she purposefully chose that path of turning evil as opposed to leaving the freedom fighters or going somewhere else or like literally doing anything else. she literally could have just left but she did not and thats what makes her Interesting. prompted by her unhealed trauma and personal baggage she made those bad choices for herself, and frankly i cannot for the life of me understand why people think that walking back that character development (and yes i mean character development. character development can also mean getting worse) for ..... what. snarky but with a heart of gold generic protagonist girl? come on guys

#besides what happened to not having enough female villains smh #archie sonic #fiona fox #iratusmus.txt

[we-out-here-simping]

tara's fic masterlist

All my work in one place! and if you like them then support them!-- whether its a comment, reblog or even a like! it keeps me going

18+ blog mdni

PROMISE (gn!reader)

summary: you escaped the lab in 1980 at the age of fourteen and after getting sort of adopted and then fully adopted by hopper along with eleven. and now it's the year of our lord, 1985, the lab still haunts you but you live a somewhat peaceful life with your newly acquired boyfriend. things get a little strange.

LIVING FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL (desi!fem!reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Summary:  a two-parter where your cousin was getting married to a guy in Hawkins, Indiana. While the idea of searching for Bollywood movies in a mostly white town seemed like a fruitless endeavour, you were bored— so, you set foot in family video where you meet Steve Harrington. The cute boy and you quickly become friends. Steve realises that he was falling for you but he also realises that you were only going to be in Hawkins for a few weeks.

WASTING TIME (gn!reader)

summary: its 1986, and given everything that's happening in your town, Steve ends up pushing you away.

YOU, ME, LONELY (fem!reader)

summary: you love steve and steve loves you, but maybe you both wants different things from life

KISS IT AWAY, HONEY (gn!reader)

summary: you have a perfect and loving boyfriend, and everything should be great but something is just not right.

WE'RE WANDERERS, THE LOT OF US. (desi!fem!reader)

Summary: Steve's best friends convince him to travel to a country they know almost next to nothing about for a vacation. so, with clothes in a suitcase, emotional baggage in the carry on and most of the money in their wallet from Steve's dad's earnings and Eddie's recent gig, they fly to India. it is there that Steve keeps bumping into a girl who looks like she has a personal raincloud following her at all times.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x hopper!reader #desi!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x desi!reader

[quitealotofsodapop]

And since he's immortal he could theoretically be there right up until MK is born, but he'd honestly rather not be buried that long because A) that's what happened eith him and it really messed him up and B) he just doesn't want to imaging how painful a fully grown and overbakrd baby would be

Wukong's willing to "bake" for 500 years because the books he stole borrowed from Gold Star and Lao Tzu/Laozi said thats the time required for a Stone Monkey buried underground needs to generate a whole Stone Egg without the parent unknowingly turning their surroundings into a desert (buried too shallow) and/or stealing the life force/dao of another creature or many creatures (being awoken "early").

Its like a more dangerous version of the parental debuff in the TMKATI au. Some magical energy is required to make the body out of "nothing".

If he didn't bury himself deep enough then; 1: FFM would resemble a barren rock stripped of all life force, and 2: His egg would unknowingly grow to a size so big as to rip him apart like he did to his parent. And the kid would be fully grown adult like he hatched like, adn he doesn't want to give his kid that kind of baggage.

But if he woke up "early" without a powerful regenerating source of life energy (in nature it would have been provided safely by being surrounded by the parent's family members/troop); he'd turn to a super-deadly conduit of life-draining aura that could kill a lot of creatures - including his monkeys!

So 500 years slow-cooking it is. At least his kid will be ready to pop out toddler-sized the moment he's woken up.

So of course things don't go according to plan and Wukong gets woken up almost 20 years early, forcing him to carry the Egg for a while longer like a furiously-overdue pregnant person. He's munching on any source of food in sight to avoid actively draining mortal beings of energy.

#stone egg talk #SWK is MK's stone egg dad au #pregnancy tw #sun wukong #lmk #lmk aus #lego monkie kid