#Agile Conference | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cassiemaebarnes · 2 months ago

Text

Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Bucky x reader

Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.

Word Count: 3600

Later that afternoon, while everyone else was still in meetings, you made your way down to the training room for your solo workout. It wasn’t going to be long before you started training with the rest of the team.

You ran through your typical stretching and warm ups quickly before pulling up the workout Steve sent you. Today was mainly focused on speed and agility.

You were in the middle of some agility drills, bouncing between cones and pivoting sharply, when your foot landed wrong. Your ankle twisted beneath you, and a sharp jolt of pain shot up your leg as you stumbled, barely catching yourself before you hit the floor.

“Shit,” you hissed, rolling onto your side as you reached down to grab your ankle. You took a breath, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it felt.

After a minute, you pulled yourself up and tried to stand, but as soon as you put weight on your foot, pain seared through it and your leg buckled. You landed hard, realizing walking it off wasn’t an option.

You sat there, breathing heavy, a little bit of panic creeping in. You looked down at your ankle, which was already starting to swell, and you reached over for your phone.

There was really only one person you wanted to call.

You didn’t want to interrupt their meeting, but you knew you couldn’t just sit here until they were done. You finally tapped Bucky’s name and lifted the phone to your ear. He answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

You tried to keep your voice steady, but it trembled just slightly as tears began to run down your face. “Bucky, I think I sprained my ankle. I’m in the training room.”

There was a pause. Then the sound of a chair scraping and hurried footsteps. “I’m coming.”

And he hung up.

In the conference room across the compound, chairs shifted as Bucky stood up so fast his coffee nearly tipped.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, brows raised.

Bucky didn’t even slow down as he jogged out. “Emergency.”

The door slammed behind him.

Sam blinked. “Emergency?”

Tony leaned back with a smirk. “Anybody wanna take bets that ‘emergency’ is code for ‘something happened to Sleeping Beauty’?”

Nat raised her hand. “I’ve got ten bucks on that.”

“Please,” Sam scoffed. “He sprinted. She probably stubbed her toe and he’s already planning to carry her to med bay bridal-style.”

Steve sighed but didn’t argue. “Let’s just hope she’s okay.”

Meanwhile, Bucky practically kicked open the doors to the training room, scanning the space until he spotted you sitting near the far wall, holding your ankle.

He was by your side in seconds, crouching in front of you. “Hey. What happened?”

You gave him a sheepish look. “Caught it wrong during drills. Thought I could walk it off.”

He gave you a look. The really? kind.

You shrugged. “Okay, I was wrong.”

“Let me see,” he said gently.

You nodded, and he eased your shoe off, careful not to move your ankle more than necessary. His brows knit together when he saw the swelling. “You’re not walking on this.”

“Wasn’t planning to anymore,” you muttered.

Without another word, he slipped one arm under your legs, the other behind your back, and lifted you effortlessly off the mat.

“You know,” you said as he started carrying you out of the room, “we really gotta stop making this a habit.”

He smirked down at you. “Can’t help it if you keep giving me reasons to carry you.”

You just shook your head before letting your head rest lightly against his chest, already knowing the group chat was going to explode again.

Once you were in med bay, Bucky gently set you down on a cot, his arms lingering a second longer than necessary before he stepped back and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. He crouched in front of you again, his fingers brushing your ankle carefully as he adjusted it into place.

You winced slightly, and he immediately looked up, concern etched in every line of his face.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’ll be more careful.”

“I’m okay,” you said softly. “You don’t have to look so worried.”

“You called me,” he said, like it was explanation enough.

Your heart tugged a little at that. “Of course I did.”

There was a pause – quiet, warm. He stayed knelt in front of you, hands resting lightly on the edge of the cot, eyes locked on yours.

“You’re really bad at this solo workout thing,” he said eventually, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed, but before you could respond, the door swung open.

“Well, well, well,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Look who faked an injury for cuddles.”

You groaned, flopping back dramatically onto the cot. “Seriously?”

Bucky stood up and crossed his arms, sighing. “She actually got hurt.”

“Oh, we believe you,” Sam said. “That doesn’t mean we’re not gonna tease the hell out of you for sprinting out of a classified mission meeting like a rom-com lead.”

“Pretty sure I heard dramatic music when he left,” Tony added, poking his head in.

“Domestic Soldiers, volume two,” Nat chimed in, holding up her phone. “Should we update the group chat name again?”

Bucky just shook his head and muttered, “I hate all of you.”

You peeked out from under your hands to catch him trying not to smile. And you couldn’t help but smile too.

After the teasing chaos in med bay calmed down and the others left to finish their meetings, Bucky lingered behind with you for a few minutes. You’d propped your leg up, the ice pack slowly melting, and he sat on the edge of the cot beside you, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve gotta head to the last meeting,” he said softly, like he didn’t really want to.

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a sprain.”

He gave you a skeptical look, then leaned down and pulled something from behind the door �� your crutches.

“Here,” he said, holding them out to you. “For when you’re ready to hobble around.”

You took them with a dramatic sigh. “Great. Now I get to feel even more pathetic.”

“Please,” Bucky said with a crooked grin, “you’ll still be the most dangerous person in the room. Just...on sticks.”

You smiled, and his hand brushed your knee gently before he stood.

“I’ll come find you after,” he said.

You nodded again, watching him go before grabbing the crutches and slowly making your way back to your room. You managed to shower – slowly and carefully – and changed into comfier clothes, then stretched out on your bed for a while, scrolling through your phone and trying not to overthink the fifty new group chat notifications.

Eventually, hunger won out, and you crutched your way down to the kitchen.

Some of the team was already in there, scattered around the kitchen island and stovetops, making their own dinner or picking at leftovers. The room buzzed with conversation and clattering utensils, and you tried to quietly maneuver your way in.

You reached the fridge, grabbed a container, then tried to make it to the counter with a plate balanced in one hand and a crutch under each arm. But the end of one crutch snagged on the leg of a stool.

You stumbled but caught yourself with a hiss, steadying the plate.

No one noticed.

You blew out a breath, determined to not make a scene. You kept going, trying to scoot sideways past Steve and Sam. This time, one crutch clipped the edge of the rug near the sink.

Your stomach dropped as your balance gave out, and your hands shot forward instinctively.

Before you hit the floor, arms wrapped around you, steadying you mid-fall as your crutches clattered to the ground.

“You okay?” Bucky’s voice rumbled right near your ear.

You blinked, heart thudding. “Yeah – I’m fine.”

The room had gone suspiciously quiet.

Then—

“She’s falling for you, Barnes,” Sam called out, grinning like he’d been waiting all day for that one.

“She literally just fell,” Tony said. “It’s poetic, honestly.”

“You gonna carry her again, or should we give you space?” Nat asked casually, biting into an apple.

Bucky sighed but didn’t let go of you right away. “Is your ankle okay?”

You nodded, cheeks burning. “It’s fine. I’m just mildly humiliated.”

He chuckled, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear before finally stepping back. “Let’s get you a chair before they write a fanfic about it.”

“Too late,” Sam said. “I already titled it The Fall of the Soldier’s Heart.”

You buried your face in your hands as Bucky picked up your crutches and handed them to you, guiding you to a seat, laughing softly under his breath the whole way.

Once you were safely seated, Bucky grabbed the plate you’d been trying to carry and set it aside.

“You’re not cooking,” he said, already rolling up his sleeves. “You almost broke your neck trying to get leftovers.”

“I was fine,” you argued, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

He gave you a look. “You were about to do a crutch-assisted faceplant into the counter.”

Tony, still loitering near the coffee machine, perked up. “Wait a second. Is the Winter Soldier about to cook for her again?”

Sam leaned around the fridge door, grinning. “What is this, a rom-com or a cooking show?”

Nat popped a grape into her mouth. “Why not both?”

Steve held up a hand and backed out. “I’m leaving. Enjoy your date night.”

“It’s not a date,” Bucky called after him.

Sam just shook his head. “Classic denial.”

“Okay, out,” Bucky finally barked, half-laughing. “Go bother someone else.”

Tony dramatically sighed and tossed a paper towel into the trash. “Fine. But don’t think this isn’t going in the group chat.”

“I’ll send a photo,” Nat offered.

“You take a photo, and I will replace your shampoo with glitter,” Bucky warned.

She winked and strolled out. “Worth it.”

Eventually, the rest of the team filtered out, leaving behind empty mugs, crumpled napkins, and a smug silence.

Bucky turned back to you and gave a sigh of relief. “Finally.”

“You really gonna cook for me again?” you asked, amused.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, already chopping vegetables.

You tilted your head. “And hopefully it won’t be the last. You’re a pretty good cook if I do say so myself.”

He glanced over his shoulder at you, laughing. “Keep that up, and I might cook for you every night.”

You blinked, caught a little off guard, but you recovered fast. “Careful, Barnes. That sounded dangerously close to a promise.”

He just turned back to the stove, but you saw the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The kitchen settled into a warm, quiet rhythm. After a while, he set a plate in front of you and sat down beside you, just a little too close to be casual.

“Careful, it’s still hot,” he said, nudging the fork toward you.

You took a bite and raised your eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Okay, wow. This is actually amazing.”

“Told you I had skills.”

“You keep cooking like this, I’m never feeding myself again,” you said, chewing thoughtfully. “You’ll be stuck with me forever.”

He looked at you then, expression soft. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind that.”

The air shifted slightly - less teasing, more real. You opened your mouth to respond, but your phone buzzed loudly on the table. You both glanced at it.

New message from the group chat:

Tony: someone get Barnes a frilly apron, Chef Bucky is IN LOVE

You groaned and slapped your palm over your face. “They’re never gonna stop.”

Bucky reached over, turned your phone face down, and gave a quiet laugh. “Let ‘em talk.”

And with his knee brushing lightly against yours under the table and the soft, fond look still in his eyes, you realized…you really didn’t mind if they did.

Once you finished eating, Bucky helped you hobble over to the couch in the lounge. He brought along a cooler with more ice packs, a pillow for your ankle, and a blanket he draped over your lap like you were the fragile old lady from a black-and-white drama.

“I swear, you’re enjoying this,” you muttered as he fussed with the blanket.

He gave you that crooked little smirk and plopped down next to you, resting your crutches against the armrest. “Maybe a little. You make a cute patient.”

You gave him a look. “You’re lucky I can’t chase you right now.”

He adjusted the pillow under your leg and grabbed a fresh ice pack, gently settling it over your swollen ankle. His fingers brushed your skin, cool and careful.

But the cold made you flinch. “Ugh, that’s freezing.”

“You want it to work or not?” he asked, clearly amused.

You narrowed your eyes at him and dipped your hand into the melting bag from earlier, flicking a few drops of ice water onto his arm.

He blinked.

Then calmly set down the new ice pack.

“I see how it is,” he said, reaching behind him into the cooler he’d brought in, pulling out a second – very drippy – ice pack.

“Bucky,” you warned, already awkwardly scooting sideways.

Too late.

He slapped the cold pack lightly against your arm, making you yelp.

“Oh, it’s on,” you said, swiping the old pack and slapping it against his metal shoulder.

And that’s how the two of you ended up in a full-blown ice-pack war on the couch – hissing, giggling, and slipping around in melting water.

You were trying to reach the baggie that slid down onto the floor when your body twisted wrong, sending a jolt of pain through your ankle.

When you winced, Bucky instantly dropped the ice pack. “Okay, okay – game over,” he said, catching you before you slid too far. “Truce. You win.”

You grimaced and nodded. “I claim victory by technicality.”

“You claim victory by being injured,” he muttered, helping ease you back into the cushions and readjusting the ice on your ankle again. His movements slowed, and the playful energy faded into something softer.

He sank down next to you into the couch, and the two of you fell into casual conversation, laughing about anything and everything.

Your body sagged a little toward him, worn out from the pain and the laughing. Without thinking too hard about it, you leaned into his side, your head resting just beneath his shoulder. He didn’t move away – instead, his arm slowly slipped around your shoulders.

You smiled, letting your eyes drift shut.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“For what?”

“For dinner. And the ice. And not laughing when I almost face-planted into the sink.”

His fingers brushed gently against your upper arm. “I like taking care of you.”

You meant to respond. You really did.

But the comfort, the warmth, the low rumble of his voice…it all pulled you under.

You blinked awake slowly, the room dim and still. It took a second for your brain to register the quiet – the kind of quiet that only happens when the compound is truly empty. No footsteps, no clattering, no TV noise from the next room. Just the faint hum of the fridge and the low glow from the security light in the kitchen.

You shifted slightly – and that’s when you realized you weren’t just wrapped in a blanket. You were wrapped in Bucky.

Your head rested on his chest, his arm draped across your shoulders, and your hand – oh, no – your hand was tucked just under the hem of his t-shirt. His other hand rested over yours, warm and completely still in sleep.

You held your breath.

Then, with a soft sigh, Bucky stirred. His brow furrowed as he blinked his eyes open, sleep-heavy and unfocused at first.

“…Did we fall asleep?” he murmured, voice husky and low.

“I think we passed out,” you whispered. “It’s dark out.”

He turned his head slightly toward the window, then let out a quiet groan. “It’s gotta be past midnight.”

Neither of you moved right away.

Finally, you shifted, slowly sitting up. “I should probably get back to my room…”

Bucky nodded, rubbing a hand over his face, then through his hair. “Yeah, yeah…I’ll help you.”

You picked up your phone to look at the time, but saw dozens of notifications from the group chat instead.

“Oh no,” you whispered, clicking on the notification.

“What?” Bucky leaned in to look over your shoulder – and froze.

There you both were, dead asleep on the couch. One of the pictures was straight-up rom-com worthy: your face buried in his shoulder, his head tilted slightly down toward yours, both of you tucked into the blanket like it had been staged.

Then there was the boomerang.

You pulling him closer in your sleep. Him nuzzling against your hair.

You stared at it in horror. “…They were watching us.”

“They filmed us.” Bucky sounded personally betrayed.

You groaned and flopped back onto the couch, dragging the blanket over your face. “I can never show my face again.”

Bucky just leaned his head back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling like it had personally wronged him. “They were never even here when we fell asleep!”

You let out a strangled laugh from under the blanket. “We’re never gonna live this down.”

Bucky gave a resigned sigh, bumping your knee gently. “Might as well stay here. Damage is already done.”

“True,” you said, peeking out at him. “At least it was a good nap.”

He smirked, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. “Best nap I’ve had in years.”

Eventually, after the two of you had stared at the group chat long enough to accept your fate as the team’s newest rom-com subplot, you stood up with a groan and reached for your crutches.

Bucky stood up beside you instantly, reaching over and gently steadying you while you got your balance on the crutches. You looked up at him with a tired smile.

“You don’t have to walk me. I’ve got it.”

He gave you a flat look, like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing he’d heard all week. “Yeah, no. You can barely sneak a snack without falling into my arms – think I’m gonna let you crutch your way down the hall alone at two in the morning?”

You opened your mouth to argue – then closed it again. “Fair point.”

“Mm-hmm,” he said smugly, stepping to the side. “Lead the way, hop-along.”

“You know, insulting the injured isn’t very gentlemanly,” you muttered as you maneuvered into the hallway.

“I carried you twice this week. I’ve got room for a little sass.”

You grinned despite yourself as the two of you made your slow way down the hallway. Every step echoed a little more in the hush, and your crutches tapped rhythmically across the floor.

About halfway to your room, Bucky reached out to steady you again, just instinctively.

You glanced up at him. “You do that a lot.”

“What?”

“Hover.”

He looked down at you, slightly sheepish. “I just…worry.”

Your heart squeezed a little.

“I don’t mind,” you added quickly. “It’s kind of sweet.”

You finally made it to your room, and he cleared his throat, backing up half a step. “Alright, get inside before I say something dumb and end up in more screenshots.”

You laughed and opened your door. “Thanks for the walk, Bucky.”

He nodded once, hand brushing your arm lightly. “Anytime. Get some sleep.”

You lingered in the doorway for a second longer, then gave him a little smile and stepped inside.

And you could still feel his eyes on you even after the door clicked shut.

You set your crutches aside with a small wince, leaning against the wall as you made your way to your bed. As you slowly settled in, the weight of the day – the teasing, the jokes, and the unexpected comfort – finally hit you.

You thought back to the first few days. Bucky had been a constant presence, always there when you needed him, always patient, always gentle in a way that had slowly wormed its way into your chest. The teasing from the others, the way they kept nudging you both, it used to make you roll your eyes. But tonight, with him walking you to your door, something shifted. You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere between his quiet concern and that teasing smile, you’d realized – maybe they were right.

Maybe there was something more between you two, something deeper than the easy friendship you’d shared at first. The way he’d always found an excuse to be near you, the little touches that now felt less like accidents and more like promises. You’d never really thought of yourself as someone who fell into a fairytale romance, but if you were honest…it was starting to feel a little bit like one.

And yet, the thought of it felt almost too big to hold on your own, like if you admitted it out loud, everything would shift. Maybe that was why you were so hesitant. But as you lay back on the bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly what you wanted.

You smiled softly to yourself, the weight of your feelings a little less heavy than before. Maybe tomorrow, you’d figure it out. Maybe. For now, you could just let yourself fall asleep, knowing he’d be there when you woke up.

Part 5 | Masterlist

Tag list: @ordelixx @read-just-cant-stop @erinallene @crazycleo @magnoliamermaid @thewriters64 @nelachu2423 @kjah97 @awesompawsum @winchestert101 @buckyb-stan @crazyunsexycool @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @buckybarnesfic @ozwriterchick @multiversefanfics @blavikennbutcher @mysoggywaffle @nameless-ken

If you want added to the tag list or taken off, just let me know!!

Thanks for all your support!

#bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #avengers #avengers compound #marvel #grumpy #the new girl #cassiemaebarnes

374 notes · View notes

madridfangirl · 4 months ago

Text

So near, yet so far

(Jude bellingham blurb. Some fighting, some fluff, some missing each other.)

‘Stop being a baby & pick up the phone.’

Jude searched for his phone blindly when it pinged, while lying face down on a pillow, saw the message from his girlfriend, then put the phone away on the side-table.

She had sent that message after four missed calls throughout. He knew she had seen him online and would have understood that he was avoiding her on purpose.

Good, he wanted her to realise that. After everything she put him through.

The phone rang again, disturbing his sulky mood. He didn’t even look up this time.

‘Fine. Remember this the next time I don’t pick up your call.’

In this department, Jude could dish it out but absolutely could not take it himself. He always went nuts when she even remotely avoided him, following her around like a lost puppy. In fact, their whole fight had started from this.

Ananya was having a super tough day at work yeaterday. She was roped in on a deal last minute and the Managing Directors of their team had to pitch next afternoon. Which meant it was all hands on deck for the whole team. All day and most of that night.

That same day, Jude had a fantastic session at training, scoring bangers for fun, nutmegging teammates like child’s play. Especially Cama - he’d never let the boy live it down. For all his snake like agility, Jude had still managed to nutmeg that silky smooth footballer. And had even secured the video of it, which he had immediately sent to Ananya, along with a few others with his shooting.

Later, Carlo had called him to the side and praised him for his sharpness. He even invited him to accompany Carlo for the next pre-match press conference. It was a big Champions league away night, which meant it was a high-profile presser that Jude was being entrusted with.

It had been a great day overall. Plus he was having a great hair day as well, & took a couple of selfies in the gym (shirtless, sweaty, just what she liked) which had immediately made their way to her inbox as well.

She was supposed to get off work sooner today, given her MDs were due to travel the next day. He had no idea the pitch had to completely be overhauled at the last minute and that she was dying at work while he was having a gala time.

When he didn’t get any response even when he got home in the afternoon, he started to wonder if something was off. If he had missed some important day or did something or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But he couldn’t think of any such thing.

‘Hey, just checking in, all good?’

One hour went by. No response.

‘I’m home, what time will you get here? Italian is good tonight?’

This was a harmless enough message, or so he thought.

‘Talk later.’

That was all she had time & energy to type back.

Food was the last thing on her mind when she saw his message. She was surviving on two apples and 5 cups of coffee all day and would probably have to pull an all-nighter by the looks of it, on a day when she was supposed to get done by 6 pm. An anomaly. A massive anomaly in her line of work. But Satan was intent on ruining her happiness.

Her team was cooped up in the conference room while her MD was on a zoom call from his mansion on the outskirts of the city, spelling out 1000 changes to the formatting while sipping a glass of red wine.

One day, she’ll get there too. But till then, she had no choice but to slog her ass off. Like the rest of her team.

In the middle of that, her phone kept buzzing. She just put it on silent and threw it in her bag. Her plans for the evening all but forgotten.

It was 6:30 pm already, and Jude figured she would have left by now. So he made the cardinal sin of calling her, twice.

‘Are you ok?’

Still no response.

‘Are you mad at me?’

He started to get worried now. And called Roma. Who was also in the room with Ananya, as frazzled as her friend, as knee deep in work as the rest of them.

Her phone was on silent too. The executive director absolutely hated any sounds when they were all cooped up together like this.

30 mins later, they finally got up for a pee break, first in over 5 hours. Ananya and Roma rushed to the loo with their bags, looking at their phones at the same time.

5 missed calls, 15 messages between the two of them. All from Jude.

Ananya was furious. She was actually hangry, which made her even more irritated with this. Even her family knew not to bother her when she was having a tough day at work, just one message was enough for them to know she’d be out of reach for a while. Jude knew that too, but still had bombarded the both of them. And what in god’s name was he doing calling Roma? It just made her look stupid in front of her friend. She didn’t like people calling her friends to check in on her, a pet peeve since childhood.

But this boy just didn’t understand.

The said boy happened to call again just then.

‘Yes?’

‘Oh hey - finally. Where were you?’

‘On Mars.’

‘Huh?’

‘Where do you think I could be, Jude? Obviously I’m working.’

‘But, I thought you were getting free early today.’

‘Yeah, not happening.’

‘When you will get done?’

‘No idea. Not anytime soon.’

‘But…we had the whole evening planned, food is also on its way.’

‘Let me go say that to my MD and maybe he’ll let me go’

The crankiness and sarcasm in her voice was increasing with every passing second. And Jude couldn’t help but wonder if it was anything more than work that was causing that.

‘Ok gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow?’

Wait what? So she was seriously not coming home all night?

‘We are travelling for the match tomorrow.’

‘After than then.’

‘International break. This was the last night before I’m on the road for 12 days.’

‘After that then.’

Her voice was curt and her attention was elsewhere, like she was barely even listening to him anymore.

‘Are we good? You’re not mad at me for something?’

‘Oh for the love of god not everything is about you. I’m dying here. DYING. You’re not important right now. I told you I was busy, so pls try to understand.’

Jude was silent. She hadn’t said she was busy. She just said talk later. How was he supposed to decipher this is what she meant? How could she be cross with him for this?

‘Bye now. See you when I see you next.’

‘Bye.’

He stared at his phone long after, and at the screen where a game of FIFA was loaded, waiting for her. The food was on it way too, which he called to cancel immediately.

It was next evening. He was in the team hotel after a long flight. But still, 24 hours later also he was in a pissy mood.

Ananya had worked all night, came back in the morning, slept for a few hours and was back in office now, on standby while the MD meeting was going on in London.

She finally got some time to focus on her irritated boyfriend, who she was trying to reach for the last 2 hours, and finally sent this message to get his attention.

Silent treatment was beyond his coping ability, they both knew that perfectly well.

‘Sure - be more mean to make up for being mean earlier.’

‘I wasn’t mean to you. I was just busy.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘Jude - I didn’t sleep all night. Didn’t have a proper meal in 24 hours. So of course I was on edge.’

‘You said I wasn’t important to you.’

‘Not important in that moment.’

‘Same thing.’

‘Big difference.’

‘Even after everything you’re still talking to me like this.’

‘How else should I talk?’

‘Like you want to make it up to me?’

‘Make it up to you?’

‘Yes. Massively.’

‘I should make it up to you coz my work is sucking the living life out of me right now? Sure, that makes sense.’

‘You forgot yesterday was the last day we had together in almost 2 weeks.’

‘It was not in my control. What could I have done?’

‘Could have felt bad for not being with me? Like I was feeling bad? Five seconds for that was too much to ask for?’

That made her take a pause. She was still learning to cope with the mad pressure that came on sprints like these, and didn’t always react in the most even-tempered way. Could she have taken a minute to talk to him softly and explain the situation? Possibly yes. But she was still leaning the ropes and all the first-year associates were as frazzled as her. Heck she only had 1 minute for a pee break, which is when she spoke to him. Why couldn’t he understand that pressure, when she understood his work pressures and how the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders at times?

‘You needed to be here to understand what it was like.’

‘Darling - I know what professional stress is.’

‘It’s different for you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You are Jude fucking Bellingham.’

‘And don’t you think that means 100x pressure?’

‘No. Because you’re not some first year associate who is expected to work 16 hours a day, 6 days a week with near-perfect output.’

She could hear him breathing heavily at the other end. But he didn’t say anything, neither did she.

This was one of those moments where their crazy schedules got to them. As did the high-pressure of their jobs. For no particular fault of either of them. They were both fiercely ambitious, and driven in their careers. Which meant personal life suffered at times.

Ananya always wondered till what point would this be sustainable. If he’d turn around one fine day and would want more from her. That more was not in her control to give. Unless she sacrifices her dreams.

‘We’re going in circles.’

He broke the eerie silence. Another thing he wasn’t too fond of. Awkward pauses made him uncomfortable.

‘Yes we are.’

‘Did you manage to get some rest?’

‘Slept for a few hours. You?’

Jude was a sound sleeper otherwise but for the life of him could not sleep on a plane well.

‘A little bit.’

‘Match is day after right? You should get some rest.’

‘Yeah, will crash soon.’

He didn’t want to sleep before talking to her. But he absolutely didn’t want to be the one making the call.

‘The presser was nice.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘Could have smiled a bit more. Your fan pages were waiting for classic Jude happy face.’

‘Nothing to smile about in my life.’

‘Stop being dramatic.’

‘Stop being mean. And stop being so far away.’

The sincerity & longing in his voice melted her on the spot.

‘Babyyy.’

He immediately felt lighter.

‘What I wouldn’t give to hold you right now.’

Sleeping without her being next to him just wasn’t the same anymore. He slept better now when she was in his arms.

‘Me too sweetheart, me too.’

She could use a Jude hug too. Desperately. And a nice, long, peaceful sleep. But no relationship was perfect, this was something they just had to deal with.

‘Say something nice.’

‘I love you my dashing boy.’

‘More.’

‘So cute. So sweet. So sexy.’

‘More.’

‘One of the best players in the world.’

‘One of the best?’

‘Yes. The best midfielder though.’

Jude didn’t push further, knowing this was the best he’d get. She wouldn’t lie when it came to football. Not even to him or for him. This was enough for now.

‘Missing you.’

‘Me too, babu.’

Jude loved it when she used this particular Hindi word of endearment for him, which was the equivalent of baby. She often used many such words when they were snuggled together & she was cooing to him, explaining the meaning of each of them. He understood quite a few by now.

‘I can’t sleep. What do I do?’

‘Keep talking to me. And hug a pillow.’

‘Way ahead of you.’

They both hugged pillows while sleeping now, when they were not next to each other.

‘Now tell me about yesterday.’

Excitement seeped back into his drowsy voice, but the exhaustion was evident. Midway through, he started slurring some words and a few minutes later he was almost asleep, while still mumbling things to her.

‘Honey, put the phone down, turn off the light & get some rest, yeah?’

‘Yeah, ok.’

He mumbled, already near crashing.

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Mmmm will dream of you, beautiful.’

With that, the phone dropped from his hand, while the lights were still on and the TV was on mute. But it didn’t matter. He got what he needed, so did she.

...........................................................

Wanted to do a realistic comfort fic, for all the madness happening around us.

Hope you liked it! Wrote this in 2 hours so not edited properly.

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic

259 notes · View notes

reginaphalange2403 · 2 years ago

Text

Never Again

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Despite an intense dislike for one another, you and Bucky begrudgingly get paired together for a mission. You’re forced to look past your differences when things so south.

Warnings: Canon level violence, asshole Bucky (at first), enemies to lovers vibes, other mcu characters make appearances. Word count: 6.1k

a/n: AHHHH my first fic in like 6 months! this is also the first time I've ever written for Bucky or written anything like this. It was a lot of fun and I hope I did him justice lol. Enjoy!

The loud hissing of the Keurig was a rude awakening to your 7am start to the day. Unfortunately, Steve had decided to hold a team conference meeting at 8. Why he chose to annoy you all like this, you weren’t sure.

“Are you fucking done yet?” You instantly recognized the deep, rough voice muttering under his breath behind you. Bucky had his arms folded and was impatiently waiting for you to finish up at the machine so he could make his own cup.

“Already have a stick up your ass today, huh Barnes?” You spit back at him before moving to let him use the Keurig.

“Well, I wouldn’t have one if you weren’t the first thing I saw when I came down the stairs.”

Damn. That stung. “Have you ever been nice for once in your life? Or is being a dick just a permanent part of your personality?”

At your words, Bucky looked up at you and feigned offense “Oh, I’m nice” He assured you in an almost sweet tone, before turning cold again “…to people that deserve it.”

You rolled your eyes at him, muttering a ‘whatever’, and left the kitchen to go take a seat in the conference room. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an atypical conversation for you to have with Bucky. Ever since you had joined the team almost a year ago - at Natasha Romanoff’s request - Bucky had been anything but welcoming. At first, you thought it was just friendly banter, him trying to sarcastically intimidate you, but it was clear by now that he genuinely had a deep distaste for you.

Soon enough, everyone else started to file in for the meeting. Nat smiled as she took the seat next to you, her regular spot, and quietly started asking you about your morning. Bucky was the last one to enter the room, and by that point the only seat left was the one on your other side.

He glared at you as he sat down.

“It’s not my fault you’re always late to these things” You quipped under your breath.

“Don’t push it, sweetheart” Bucky frustratingly muttered, and you quickly opened your mouth to reply before Natasha interrupted,

“Don’t bother with him, Y/N. He’s always a grump in the mornings”

‘No, he’s always a grump to me’ you thought to yourself, but kept your mouth shut.

“Good Morning, everyone” Steve finally got started with the meeting, a cheery grin on his face that was all too happy for 8am, in your opinion.

“As you all know, for months now we’ve been trying to track down where exactly Ian Haverford and his men have been setting up camp and operating their illegal activities” Most recently, the team had been working on taking down a group of rouge scientists. They had somehow been creating and using a serum that was similar to the super soldier serum. A antidote that made them have increased strength, speed and agility. They then used their new enhancements to rob and kill storeowners, evade the police, and then subsequently sell the drugs and weapons that they had stolen.

“We’ve finally located their compound, up in rural Virginia, we-“

“What he meant to say was I located their compound in Virginia” Tony cheekily butt in.

Steve sighed, having to stop his own eye roll, “Fine, yes, Tony located the compound. Anyway, as I was saying…We believe that that’s where they’re making the serum. The sooner we go in, the less time they have to continue using the serum and giving it to more people. Now, I didn’t necessarily think this was a task we all needed to partake in. It really only requires two people to take down Haverford and gather intel on what chemicals they’ve been using”

Steve took a big breath before revealing who he had assigned to the mission, knowing he’d have hell to pay, “Y/N and Bucky will be heading to Virginia tomorrow morning-“

“Are you serious Rogers?!” You immediately confronted Steve’s decision as you heard Bucky next you,

“You’ve got to be kidding me” He mumbled, clearly as annoyed as you were.

Steve put his hands up defensively, “I know the two of you don’t always get along, but I was hoping this assignment would allow you to work together and actually have to interact beyond your bickering”

You had never been on a mission with just Bucky before. Of course, the two of you had been on missions with the rest of the avengers together, but never just the two of you.

Steve continued, “Besides, we need someone who’s a super soldier to infiltrate the compound. Bucky has the strength and speed to match that of Haverford’s people. And Y/N, you also have enhancements, it makes sense to send the both of you in together.” He concluded by basically saying his decision was final, and that you and Buck would be leaving on a quinjet first thing tomorrow.

During your years in the red room, you had been injected with various substances and drugs that over time had enhanced your agility, flexibility, reflexes and even your sight. But you didn’t see how that made you a necessary aspect to this assignment. You were sure Steve was just using that as an excuse, he really just wanted you to get along better with Bucky.

Speaking of which, Buck stood up from his chair as you looked over at him, he glowered at you for a moment before scoffing, “Guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it” and with that he left the room.

You stayed, waiting for everyone else to file out so that you could speak with Steve privately. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your shoulder, as she was the last one to head out after talking to Steve for a while herself. You were always sort of jealous of their friendship. Of course, you had Nat. Who was your closest confidant in the group. But you also wanted to be close with the guys as well. You supposed Steve was your friend, but sometimes it felt like he looked at you as more of a younger sister.

Finally, it was just you and Steve alone in the room and you were still sitting in your same seat, Steve standing at the head of the table. He tilted his head towards you and quirked his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something.

“Why does he hate me?” You asked quietly. You had always wanted to go to Steve for advice on how to handle Bucky, but never wished to cause a rift in their friendship or make Steve feel like he was put in the middle of something.

His eyes went soft and he sighed, “Oh Y/N” He began gently “I know it may come off that way, but Buck doesn’t hate you. He just…” Steve looked to find the right words, “has a hard time handling his emotions and how he feels about people… especially people that bring up past trauma for him”

Steve’s little hint helped you clue in to what he was trying to imply. You knew that Bucky had a history with the red room, long before you ever did, but you never really knew the details of it or how he was involved. You were saved from Dreykov almost a year ago when Natasha returned to destroy him. You were one of Yelena’s closest friends and she had introduced you to Nat, who then saw how skilled you were and decided to invite you to join the avengers, since you really had no other home to go to. Yelena meanwhile, had wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more and chose to see the world a bit before deciding to join any sort of vigilante team. Though Natasha always held out hope that she would finally join one day when she felt ready.

“But Nat’s from the red room too!” You defended yourself, “And Bucky treats her perfectly fine! It’s not my fault that my past is what it is. I can’t help the fact that I was raised there, why does he have to hold that against me?” You started to get emotional and Steve could tell, so he began to try and explain his friends behavior.

“Well, he’s gotten to know Natasha for a few years now, so I think they’re on better terms. Plus he kinda owes her one for how she saved both our asses during the whole…sokovia accords thing” Steve said the last part quietly while sort of shamefully looking down. Despite the fact that it was worked out now, that whole incident with him, Tony and Bucky still deeply bothered Steve to even bring up.

He continued after a moment, “He doesn’t hold it against you Y/N, it’s not your fault. He just doesn’t like the memories you bring up for him, the things you remind him of. And he doesn’t know how to properly process and work through them, so instead he just takes out that pent up anger and self hatred on you. It’s not fair to you, but it’s also not your fault.”

“Get him to see a therapist then” you muttered.

Steve scoffed, “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

He then walked around the length of the table to where you were sitting and gave you a pleading look, “Just give him a chance. Hopefully this mission will be the thing that finally gets him to see you in a different light. I know it’s hard to believe, but he really does have a sweet, soft side under all that brooding, if you dig deep enough” And that was what Steve left you with as he walked out, leaving you alone to mull over what he had said.

———————

For the rest of that day, you and Bucky both avoided each other. You spent most of the afternoon locked up in your room or in the gym, perfecting a few moves with Nat’s help in preparation for your assignment. You didn’t see Bucky all day, you assumed he also was doing his best to not run into you.

Now, you were seated across from him on the quinjet, an awkward silence taking up the majority of the ride to a rural part of Virginia. He barely even looked at you for the entire 2 hour flight. Mostly staring down at his hands with airpods in, or having his head tilted back and eyes closed. As you neared the end of your trip, jet about to touch down, you noticed Bucky finally didn’t have headphones in, so you decided it would be a good time to set some things straight before you literally went into battle with him.

Cautiously, you spoke up, “Look, I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye but we really need to-“

He cut you off sharply “Once we touch down I’ll take the northeast side of the compound and you can take the south side. They apparently keep their lab in a big room on the south side, so you head that way and ransack the lab while I take down Haverford, who’s quarters are up in the north end. Got it?” Not even listening to what you had tried to say, Bucky simply started barking out a game plan at you.

“Sure, but I was saying that we-“

Bucky sighed dramatically, “Look Y/N, we just need to do our damn jobs and get this over with. Alright?”

“But Steve said-“

“I don’t care what Steve said.” He snapped, “I’m not here to make nice.”

And with that, you sat in silence again for the last few minutes of the flight. The quinjet landed in an open forrest area, roughly a 10 minute walk away from where Haverford’s compound was supposed to be. Of course, you couldn’t land right next to it without risking them hearing and giving yourselves away. So, you and Bucky began the short trek to the complex, once again in complete silence the whole way there.

Finally, you arrived upon a large monster of a building. It took up almost the entirety of the empty field that it occupied, with no windows around it whatsoever. To anyone else, it looked like from the outside to be just an eery abandoned building. You and Buck snuck around to the backside where a hatch door was used to get into the lower level of the building.

“When we’re done,” Bucky finally spoke for the first time in over 15 minutes “How about we meet up back here at this door, so that we can leave asap and not waste time trying to find each other in this fucking maze. Good?”

You swallowed, remembering the “plan” Bucky had laid out earlier on the jet. You really didn’t feel right about splitting up with him. The compound was massive and neither of you had ever navigated it before. Sure, Steve had shown you a basic floor plan of it and talked about where he believed they were making the serum, but that was it. You didn’t know your way around this territory, and you didn’t know what Haverford’s men were like. And on this mission, it was just you and Buck. You didn’t have the other avengers around to look out for you, or be your eyes and ears over the comms.

“Bucky, I don’t know if we should separate. This place is big.” You finally admitted.

“It’s nothing you can’t handle” He grumbled out, which should have sounded like a compliment but came out as more of something to shut you up and get on with it.

“But what if one of us gets injured or can’t find our way back to the door?” You asked, embarrassed to be admitting your nerves to him. Bucky could see for a moment that you were genuinely anxious about this.

“We have the comms in our ears,” He began in a slightly softer tone than he had ever spoken to you before, “If you need help, just talk to me. I’ll be in your ear the whole time”

You nodded, still a little worried but trying not to show it.

“Splitting up is the fastest way to do this. And the faster we get this done, the less time we have to spend together.” Ah, there was the Bucky you knew. Back to making jabs at you. That was the last you spoke before he broke the door open and you were in.

—————————

As discreetly as possible, you made your way through the compound, quietly trying to get to the south wing without being heard or seen. Steve said that they most likely were keeping their lab in the largest room in the building, which supposedly should be through the last door on the south side. As long as you could find it, get the records and evidence that you needed, and get back to the exit in time to meet Bucky, you’d be fine.

You could hear Bucky through the comms, sounds of grunting and punching obviously coming from him fighting Ian Haverford’s men that he had come into contact with.

“Looking for something princess?” You immediately stopped in your tracks at the sound of a deep sinister voice snarling at you. Whipping around, you saw one of Ian’s goonies standing just a few feet from you.

Instantly he charged at you, but it was nothing you hadn’t ever dealt with. Before he could grab you, you took hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, affectively turning his entire body away from you. Then, using the Widow’s Bite armor that were around your wrists, you tased him in the neck, causing him to fall completely unconscious.

It was then that you realized you had made it to the end of the hallway, and thus the last door which was supposed to be their lab. Prepared for men to potentially be in there, you unholstered one of your firearms, and promptly kicked down the door.

To your shock, the room had no occupants. You quickly reached over to find a light switch, and what you saw next was infuriating. It indeed was Ian Haverford’s lab. Full of tables and stations that held different mixed drugs and chemicals that he was using to create his own super soldier serum, one that he then used on himself and his accomplices. You also saw a station that was entirely made up of a large desktop connected to multiple computers.

You started to make your way towards the computers so that you could plug in your hard-drive and collect the data that would supply the team with how Haverford had been making the serums. But before you could get there, a white, powdery substance started to sprits down from what looked like emergency sprinklers that were on the ceiling. The substance reeked like chemicals, similar to that of bleach but not as strong. You began to cough a little, trying to wipe the shit out of your face and eyes. You had no idea what the fuck it was or what it might possibly do to you.

“Bucky” you half coughed half called his name into the comms, “Bucky something happened”

“What?” He grunted out, clearly still in the middle of fighting someone.

“I just got sprayed with some kind of white powder stuff. I don’t know what it was. It must have been part of some kind of booby-trap that they had on the lab, since I kicked their door in, it went off.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky immediately asked, seeming genuinely worried.

“Yeah I mean, nothings happened yet, I’m still fine. But-“

“I’m a little busy Y/N, if you’re fine for now, just get the data from the lab and head out fast. I don’t have time to keep talking” he quickly rattled off to you, and you heard a loud scream coming from a guy that Bucky obviously just injured.

You swallowed, still very nervous about whatever the hell just happened to you, but you didn’t want to distract Bucky any further and potentially get him hurt, “Alright. On it.”

Plugging the hard-drive into the main desktop, you waited patiently as thousands of files started to download from Haverford’s database. As you stood there and waited, an annoying, high pitched ringing began to go off in your ears. At the same time, your vision slowly started to blur slightly, as if you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses. A lump formed in your throat and your heart practically dropped into your stomach, you hated to admit it, but this was deeply scaring you. You’d never been poisoned before.

You rubbed your eyes, hoping maybe it would help, but nothing happened, the blurriness just got worse. On top of that, your head started to pound, most likely due to the loud obnoxious ringing. It was the powder, you knew it had to be. What else would just suddenly start causing all this?

“Y/N? You still good?” You heard Bucky ask through the comms, clearly still preoccupied with something else but wanting to check on you.

You debated telling him about your symptoms. You were teammates, he should know. But on the other hand, It was just a few mostly mild symptoms, and the files were almost finished downloading anyway. You’d grab the hard-drive, run out of the compound and meet him in just a few minutes. You could make it until then. Plus, you didn’t wish to further annoy or distract him from fighting.

“Yeah. Still good!” You tried to sound as enthusiastic and convincing as possible. It must have worked, because he didn’t question you further.

Standing over the counter, still waiting for the files to be done, you leaned over the table a bit and made the idiotic decision to close your eyes for just a second, trying to relieve the headache.

A moment later, you felt a sharp, intense fiery pain in your abdomen as someone reached from behind you choking your neck and thrusting a knife into your stomach. You were paralyzed for just a second with fear, not even able to cry out. The ringing in your ears was so bad, you must not have heard anyone come in.

Trying to ignore the pain, you instinctively kicked your right leg back hard, hitting the man in the groin and causing him to fall to the ground. However, on his way down, he didn’t miss the chance to slash you in the calve with the knife he had been holding. The stab was so quick you could only gasp in pain. A gasp Bucky must not have heard as he was fighting his own battles.

Turning around, you fumbled for your firearm for a moment before finally getting it out and being able to pull the trigger, sending a bullet right through his chest. Stumbling backwards a bit, you started to feel lightheaded and you were reminded of the red hot pain in your stomach. You placed a hand over the side the feeling was coming from, and immediately felt a sticky hot liquid coat your fingers.

You didn’t have time however to investigate the stab wound, because as you glanced up, you could see through your blurry vision that 3 more men were walking in through the kicked down door.

Lazily raising your gun again, gripping the table to keep from toppling over, you aimed as best you could, with ringing ears, blurred vision and now two stab wounds. Thankfully, your training in the red room had taught you how to aim with even a blindfold on, and with a few quick shots, the men were taken down, now lying limply on the ground in front of you.

Bucky heard the gunshots through the comm, but since you never called his name or made a noise that would indicate you needed help, he assumed you had it under control.

You let the gun fall from your hand, now that you were alone and for now, out of danger, you were finally able to feel the extent of your injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Ever so slowly, you peered down at your stomach and saw that the hand you’d been holding there was almost entirely now coated in blood. Without meaning to, you fell to your knees, which then painfully reminded you of the other deep wound in your calve. However, you were so tired, and the loss of blood was making it hard to do anything other than focus on breathing.

You knew you needed to alert Bucky. You couldn’t just lie here and wait, you didn’t have that kind of time.

“Bu-Buck” you whimpered, trying to be loud enough that the comm would pick it up. But even just trying to talk was proving to be exhausting. You knew you were losing what was probably a lot of blood. Wet hot tears started to roll down your face, you were dangerously close to just giving in to the blood loss induced exhaustion and closing your eyes.

——————

Bucky, meanwhile, had finished taking down the men on the other half of the facility and was waiting for you outside at the spot you’d both agreed you would meet. He spoke over the comms, “I took down Haverford and his men. I’m out here now. Hurry up.” Short and to the point. How he always was with you.

Immediately, more tears welled in your eyes at hearing his voice. You were desperate, in pain, and exhausted. Despite having a deep distaste for Bucky, you knew you needed him. You needed him to come and find you. You didn’t have enough strength to speak, but luckily the sound of his voice finally brought your own voice back and you mustered up a deep, pathetic and painful whine from the back of your throat…and it was enough to be caught over your ear piece.

He stood there for a few minutes, getting antsy. Especially since he didn’t hear fighting noises over comms, he assumed you were just taking your sweet time making it back to him.

After a bit of waiting he sighed, grumbling “C’mon Y/N, what the fuck could you possibly-“

His complaining ceased as soon as he heard your one singular cry through the comm. Bucky’s eyes went wide, heart dropping into his stomach. He’d never heard a sound like that come out of you before.

“Y/N?” He called your name in an almost scared tone, “Are you okay?”

No response.

Bucky swore under his breath, “I’m coming, just hang on” he made that promise to you like it was an oath, and raced back inside the building.

Sprinting to the side of the compound that you were tasked with handling, Bucky searched frantically through the hallways, popping his head into every room trying to find you….until he did.

You laid there, blood seeping across your shirt and a pool of it surrounding your one injured leg. The men that you had disarmed and killed were sprawled out around you.

After his initial shock wore off, Bucky ran to you, kicking one of the dead arms dealers out of the way to get to you. He dropped to his knees, eyes scanning your wounds.

“Oh, Y/N” He whispered with guilt and sorrow dripping from his tone. A million emotions flashed across his face. Including anger at the men who had attacked you, but mostly at himself for allowing this to happen.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the tears finally flowed freely now. Aside from the pain, you were relieved. Despite you’re not getting along, in this moment you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to hold you, and tell you everything was going to be just fine.

“Okay” he whispered in a stunned tone, trying to calm both you and himself down. His hands hovered over your body as he took in your wounds and decided what he needed to do.

“Okay, alright.” That time, it came out more sure, “It’s alright, doll. Just keep breathing for me.” He tried to comfort you as he whipped out his phone and let Tony and the team know they needed medical there immediately.

Bucky then swallowed, giving you a remorseful look for what he was about to do.

“Okay sweetheart,” he began tenderly, as he took off the black jacket he had on, and then promptly ripped the sleeve of it off with his metal arm.

“I’m gonna have to tie this around your leg to stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, but I gotta do it” He gently explained what he needed to do, waiting to see a sign in your eyes that at least you understood. You gave him a very weak nod, and that was all he needed to then wrap the sleeve tightly around your upper calf.

He was right, it did hurt. But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected or weren’t prepared for. However, you believe Bucky only told you about having to wrap your leg, in order to half distract you from what he did next.

A blinding, nauseating pain quickly overcame you as he took the rest of the jacket he had, and with his metal arm and half his body weight, pressed it over your abdominal wound.

You immediately cried out and instinctively reached for Bucky’s arm, trying to push him away.

“Shhh, I know, I know baby” Bucky, who almost sounded pain-stricken himself with guilt, began to hush you, “I know it hurts, but I have to, I have to” He grabbed your hand that had tried to push him away, and let you squeeze the life out of his own as he continued applying pressure. His thumb softly grazed your knuckles, trying to soothe you.

While continuing to comfort you, Bucky began to look around as if he expected someone else to also come to your aid. It was then that he realized he’d need to get you out of the building in order to get you onto the quinjet. There was no way the medical team would be able to find their way around in here to get to you in time. And he could see that you’d already lost a lot of blood, and even with the tourniquet and pressure he applied, you were still losing some.

He took a breath, staring into your eyes with a serious yet remorseful look on his face, “Ok doll, I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you out, but we can’t let up pressure on your wound” he explained, “So, I’m gonna need your help.”

Bucky then took the hand of yours that he was holding and gently guided it over to your abdomen. Lifting the jacket, he placed your hand over your own wound, you whimpered a little at the contact. Bucky swallowed, “I know doll, but I need you to put pressure on it like I was, okay? Can you do that for me?” He looked at you pleadingly, praying that you understood what he was saying.

Having to bite your own lip to keep from crying out again, you started to press down on your stomach with the little strength you still had. Bucky could tell you were trying by your obvious change in facial expression, “That’s it. Just like that, that’s my girl” he praised, quickly swiping one of your tears away. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but it would do.

Ever so gently, trying to avoid hurting your injured leg, Bucky gracefully slipped his arms underneath you and scooped you up, holding you close to his chest. You moaned a little at the shift in movement, “Shhh, I got you doll. I got you” he whispered into your hair as you shoved your face in the crook of his neck.

He quickly made his way back out of the compound with you in his arms, thanking god when he saw the medevac quinjet was already out there waiting for you guys. Bucky tenderly laid you down on the stretcher, taking hold of your hand again as soon as he was able.

“She was poisoned with something and then stabbed in her lower left calve and left quadrant of her abdomen” He immediately started rambling off what had happened to the medical team and Dr. Cho.

“Poisoned with what?” Someone asked, he didn’t see who it was cause he wasn’t taking his eyes off of you.

“I- I don’t know.” Bucky admitted, “I think she said it was white and powdery, I can’t remember.” Internally, he was kicking himself so hard for not having immediately ran to you when you told him about the poison. He shouldn’t have just written you off and told you to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

Bucky sat on the little bench in the quinjet right next you, still holding your hand, while the team got to work on your injuries. Technically, he should have been sitting at the front of the jet, out of their way, but no one was going to tell an upset Bucky Barnes what to do.

As they began working your leg, removing the tourniquet and getting a shot of lidocaine ready to numb the area, you saw them preparing the syringe out of the corner of your eye. You begin to hyperventilate, letting out a small whimper of fear. You hated all things medical, which stemmed from a deep rooted fear that dated back to your red room days. After years of being practically experimented on and shot up with god knows what, you didn’t particularly love the sight of needles. Even if you knew you were in a safe environment.

Bucky, who was still diligently sitting right beside you, immediately recognized your anxious reaction. He too knew that fear all too well. While he didn’t like to admit it, his time as the winter solider and being left at the hands of hydra often caused him to have visceral reactions to medical paraphernalia.

“Hey, hey” he softly called to you as he gently held your chin and brought your face to meet his, “It’s alright doll, you don’t have to look down there. Just look at me. Right at me.” He held your eyes, squeezing your hand a little tighter to let you know he was there. “That’s it. Just keep looking at me, Y/N. I’m right here” And that’s how you eventually went unconscious, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he quietly shushed you and ran his hand through your hair.

——————

The harsh lights of the medical wing practically blinded you as you tried to let your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings.

“Hey hon” you heard a soft voice coming from your right side, whom you instantly recognized as Natasha.

“Well there she is” another voice, coming from your left who you thought was Steve, spoke up, sounding relieved at the fact you were awake. Your suspicions were proven correct when Steve leaned over slightly into your line of view.

“Welcome back, Y/N” he smiled, clearly exhausted but delighted by your opened eyes.

Your voice came out raspy and weak as you spoke for the first time, “H-how long have I been out?”

Natasha grabbed a cup from off your bedside table and offered you some water as Steve answered you,

“About three days. They had to get the bleeding under control and repair a portion of your stomach that was perforated. They also gave you some antibiotics to combat whatever the hell it was you were poisoned with,” he explained, “they seem to be working though. Doc says as soon as you’re strong enough, you can finish recuperating in your own room” He ended his spiel with a smile, but there was still one question he hadn’t answered that you were desperate for.

“W-Where’s Bucky?” You wondered why he wasn’t here, as you didn’t see him next to Steve or Nat.

“He’s right here, Y/N” Steve motioned to the back of the room where you couldn’t see, but Bucky was standing in the corner, eyes red and sunken in like he’d been crying. He immediately picked his head up when he heard you mention him.

“He hasn’t left this room in three days” Steve whispered to you in a hushed tone, hoping Bucky couldn’t hear him.

Nat cleared her throat, “We’re just gonna go get some coffee” she looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the door, beckoning him to follow her. They both left, leaving you and Bucky to yourselves.

Slowly, Buck made his way over to your bed, taking the seat that Steve was just in.

He was almost fearful of what to say, surprised that you had even asked for him in the first place. He blamed himself entirely for what happened, and was positive that when you woke up, you’d want nothing to do with him. And he wouldn’t blame you.

“Hey doll” he croaked out, voice sounding strained, “How’re you feeling?”

You swallowed, “My stomach hurts, and I have a headache” you admitted, still in a bit of pain from your wound healing.

Bucky nodded, “Do you want me to get the doctor? They might be able to give you more pain meds.” He asked, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. You didn’t know, but for the past three days Bucky had remained diligently at your bedside, alerting medical staff of any slight change in vital signs or if he thought you were cold and needed more blankets. He’d only left a few brief times when Steve had to force him to go eat or use the bathroom.

You shook your head, “no, no I’m okay. Promise” You offered him a slight smile.

Bucky stared down at his hands for a moment before he spoke up again, “Y/N, I am so so so sorry. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to you and not had us split up.” He spoke with such guilt and shame you almost felt bad for him, “I was so focused on my own agenda and being a dick to you, that I completely ignored when you needed help. I can’t even-“

“Buck,” you interrupted him, reaching over and grabbing his hand with the little strength you had, “this isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the men who stabbed me. That’s it. No one else’s” As much as you knew he fucked up with the way he treated you, you certainly didn’t think he should have to take responsibility for you getting hurt.

“But if I had come as soon as you said you were poisoned, if I had just listened to you instead of choosing to be an asshole, you probably wouldn’t be in this hospital bed” he insisted, eyes getting watery.

“Well, you were an asshole, I’ll give you that.” You smirked at him, trying to get him to relax, “but you also saved my life.” Bucky looked up at you, “You tied the tourniquet which kept me from losing more blood, and then made sure I didn’t have a panic attack on the quinjet. You might have fucked up a little Bucky, but you certainly made up for it” you gave his hand a little squeeze.

For the first time since you went under surgery, Bucky smiled, “All the same, I’m never separating from you during missions ever again.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “that sounds a little suffocating, don’t you think?”

He shook his head, “Nope. Not to me. Nothings ever happening to you while you’re under my watch again”

“Well if that’s the case,” you scooted over a little in the bed, “will you keep me warm before I freeze to death in here?” You were genuinely very cold and were hoping for someone to bring you another blanket, but you supposed having Bucky there would do.

He chuckled softly, “you got it.” Lowering the hospital bed rail, Bucky climbed in and laid down next you, pulling you up close to him with his arm around your shoulders.

He placed a brief kiss along your hairline, “get some rest, doll. I’ll be right here.”

————-

Taglist: @patzammit @dpaccione @fdl305 @gh0stgurl

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes enemies to lovers #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x red room reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

2K notes · View notes

moomuzan · 6 months ago

Text

༘⋆CHARA. — bnha men , kny men

ੈ INFO — single! dad! headcanons

༉‧TAGS — fluff , aged up

➶ ˚A/N — not to brag but i‘m devastated. this is so cute

#BAKUGO

Always Grumpy™ Dad.

Looks perpetually annoyed, even when he’s doing the most doting dad things.

“Don’t forget your lunch, brat!” he yells, shoving an intricately packed bento with heart-shaped rice balls into his kid’s hands.

When his kid’s team loses at a sports game, he’s the one fuming more than the children. “What do you mean that goal didn’t count?!” he yells while the coach desperately tries to calm him down.

Bakugo insists on strict homework sessions but barely understands the material himself. “Why the hell does this math problem have letters in it?!” He’s that dad who ends up calling Kirishima to “help” while pretending he’s got it under control.

Secretly Soft Dad: His kid walks in on him sewing their torn plushie back together at 3 a.m. “You didn’t see anything, got it?!”

#TODOROKI

Clueless But Trying Dad.

Todoroki is completely out of his depth when it comes to parenting. His child once asked him what’s for dinner, and he handed them soba for the fifth time that week. “It’s nutritious.”

He attends all their school events in the loudest Todoroki way possible: deadpan clapping. If they lose? He pats their head and says something like, “Winning isn’t everything. But… next time, we’ll destroy them.”

His child asks for help with a school art project, and he approaches it like it’s a battlefield. The result? A horrifying abstract mess. His kid still proudly shows it off, though.

“If you finish your homework, we’ll get ice cream,” he promises. Somehow, he is the one who eats three scoops by the end.

#KIRISHIMA

Encouragement Overload Dad.

Kirishima hypes his kid up for everything. “That macaroni necklace you made? It’s a masterpiece! We’re putting it in a display case!”

He cries during parent-teacher conferences when the teacher praises his child.

He volunteers to coach his kid’s sports team but gets way too invested. “No, no, you gotta feel the spirit of the game!” His pep talks last longer than the matches.

His kid asks for help with science homework, and Kirishima tries to turn every answer into something about being “manly.” “Volcanoes are super manly because they erupt with power!”

#MIDORIYA

The Scrapbook Dad™.

Deku documents everything. First steps, first drawing, first sneeze. His kid can’t even eat a sandwich without Deku taking a hundred pictures.

His kid complains about being tired during gym class, so Deku creates a whole training schedule. “We’ll work on stamina first, then agility!” His kid just wants to nap.

Homework: “Let’s research this together!” He ends up learning the entire curriculum while his kid stares at him, confused.

Crying at EVERYTHING: His kid does the smallest thing, like tie their own shoes, and Deku is wiping tears off his face. “You’re growing up so fast!”

#DABI

“Cool” Dad.

Dabi tries to act indifferent about everything, but when his kid brings home an art project, he lowkey keeps it on his fridge for years. “Don’t read into it.”

His kid always steals his snacks, and he complains every time, but he still buys extra just for them.

At a school match, he heckles the referee when they make a bad call. “Oh, come on! What, are you blind?” When the teacher tries to scold him, he just grins and lights up a cigarette.

He tries to tell his kid a bedtime story but gets bored halfway through and starts making up weird, chaotic endings. “And then the princess set everything on fire. The end.”

#TANJIRO

Soft Boy Dad.

Tanjiro packs lunch boxes with cute little notes and carved fruit animals. His kid opens their lunch in front of their friends and groans, “Dad, stop making my sandwiches into hearts!”

He cheers for his kid even when they come in last at a race. “You gave it your best! That’s all that matters!”

Tanjiro tries to help with math homework but ends up confusing himself. “Wait… so the train is traveling at 60 kilometers per hour…” His kid eventually takes the textbook and says, “Never mind, Dad.”

His kid tries to bake with him, but Tanjiro somehow sets the kitchen on fire. “We can fix this! It’s fine!”

#TENGEN

Flashy Dad™.

Tengen insists on making everything extravagant. His kid gets a birthday party with fireworks, live music, and a five-tier cake. “What? This is normal parenting!”

He’s the dad who shows up to the sports match wearing a custom jersey with his kid’s face on it. His cheers are deafening, and his kid is mortified.

“Math? Who needs math when you’ve got style!” He distracts his kid with ninja flips instead of helping with homework.

The first time his kid brings home a crush, Tengen interrogates them with full dramatic flair: “What are your intentions with my precious gem?”

#GIYUU

Quietly Overprotective Dad.

Giyuu doesn’t say much, but he watches everything. If someone so much as looks at his kid wrong, his glare could freeze them solid.

He sits silently during the entire match, but the one time his kid scores, he claps once. His kid notices and beams because that is high praise from Giyuu.

His kid asks for help with history homework, and Giyuu stares at the page for ten minutes before mumbling, “This wasn’t in my era…”

His kid falls asleep on the couch, and Giyuu carefully tucks a blanket around them, sitting beside them in case they wake up.

#ZENITSU

Over-the-Top Drama Queen.

His kid gets a scraped knee, and Zenitsu screams like it’s a mortal wound. “My baby! You’re too precious for this world!”

Loudest Sports Parent

He cheers so loudly at matches that the referee tells him to sit down. He’s also the dad who cries when his kid loses.

His kid brings him a math problem, and Zenitsu panics. “This is witchcraft! Why does the answer have letters in it?!”

Clingy Bedtime and drop-off Rituals: “One more hug! Okay, now one more! Alright, just one more after that!” — *Cries.*

#INOSUKE

Wild Dad™

Inosuke’s idea of parenting is throwing his kid in the air “to build their strength.” He accidentally throws them too high once and panics mid-air.

Unhinged.

He barges onto the field mid-match to yell, “NO! YOU CHARGE STRAIGHT AT THEM! NO FEAR!” His kid tries to explain that it’s not how soccer works.

His kid asks for help, and Inosuke just growls at the book, as if he can intimidate the answers out of it. Eventually, they both give up and eat snacks instead.

His kid brings home a handmade macaroni necklace, and Inosuke wears it for weeks. “It’s armor from my spawn!”

46 notes · View notes

airaibunny · 20 days ago

Text

taylor swift x fem!reader - "choose you" (warnings: angst, mentions of blood)

a/n: holaaaa! sorry for being away for so damn long, i was in a slump and nothing in my life was going my way. IM BACK NOW THOUGH!!!! hope you guys enjoy this, i had fun writing this one

word count: 1.2k

when you started dating taylor, you were very aware of the fact that any wishful attempts for privacy were futile. you knew that the cameras and fans were ever-present wherever she stepped, but your preconceived ideas were still no match for the real situation.

that is why instances like these are still so outrageous to you. they truly did come out of nowhere, what seems to be a million of them. one second it was one fan and the next it was a mob—a suffocating, endless mob.

"keep up," she whispers lightly, moving past everyone with an agility only acquired after many years of practice. you giggle as she pulls you along; this is strangely romantic. she is clasping your hand as if you would dissipate if her fingers left yours for an instance.

"i'm trying," you whisper back, still chuckling to yourself like a little girl. you look up at her face, expecting to find an expression akin to yours, but it seems to be quite the opposite.

she finally spots the black suv up ahead and thrusts you in front of her, throwing an arm around your waist and continuing to push you along. "don't trip," she practically barks at you, but you shrug it off. the novelty of the situation is very amusing to you, but you can understand why doing this for 18 years might cause it to lose its luster.

you arrive at the vehicle and she hurriedly opens the door and shoves you inside. she wastes no time in following suit and closing the door. you sit in what seems like the quiet afterglow to you as the chauffeur drives away, only breaking the silence when you've regained your breath.

"guess we have to beat them off with a stick next time," you joke as you pull out your phone to check your makeup. taylor doesn't respond immediately, so you try again. "we could get a nerf gun and just-"

"this is what you signed up for."

you turn to meet her gaze, genuine indignation etched on her face. you lick you lips and chuckle, not wanting to fully process what she said. "it was a joke, tay," you shoot back, trying to ease the tension competing for air in the now seemingly cramped backseat.

"it's not a joke to me. this is the reality of the situation," her words are laced with a certain coldness you've never noticed before. your eyebrows furrow as she speaks, you can't understand how you merited this reaction.

"i know, taylor. it was a joke, not that big of a deal. i don't actually care."

she scoffs at your response. "yeah, right," she looks out the window to try dismissing the conversation, but you don't accept that. "yes, right. you're making a big deal out of nothing, tay."

you're genuinely growing somewhat bitter by this point, you don't understand why this is such a huge ordeal.

"you're right, i'm sorry. i don't want to talk about this any more," she takes your hand to her lips and plants a kiss on the back of it. when she lets go, she tosses her head back and closes her eyes. you decide to respect her wishes, but you can't quite shake off the new strain on your shoulders.

you try to forget about it the rest of the ride to taylor's house, but it's still fresh on your mind when you walk through the front door. you both toss your bags on the couch and continue to the kitchen, where taylor grabs a glass of water and you a protein bar. you blurt out your next words without thinking, just trying to get her to give the earlier conference a satisfying ending.

"the day they invent invisibility suits, you need to invest in one, desperately," as soon as you complete your thought, she slams her glass down on the counter, causing it to break.

she clenches her jaw, you both realize that her hand is bleeding at the sane time. "oh my god!" you rush to her side, but she swipes her hand away. "taylor, what the hell?"

she lifts her head and she genuinely looks livid. "i told you to stop talking about it!" you can hear the pain in her voice, but it doesn't seem to be stemming from her physical injury exclusively.

"well, i don't understand why this is a problem! i'm just cracking a few jokes." she snaps back in a mere second, shouting back at you.

"because one day you're going to stop thinking it's funny!" she takes a sharp breath before continuing, quieter this time. "one day you're going to realize it's too much and you're going to leave," her voice breaking with the last few words causes a strange feeling in your chest, one that you didn't expect to experience today.

you brush her hair out of her face and force her to look at you with your hand.

"taylor, i'm never going to do that."

a tear rolls down her cheek, making your own tears swell up in your eyes. "you are the love of my life, taylor alison swift. i want every bit of you. i will endure anything if it means getting to endure it with you."

the tears are streaming down her face, the sight of her now bloodshot eyes finally make you break and you join her in crying. she grimaces and inhales before speaking again.

"what if you change your mind, y/n?" she chokes back a sob that breaks her sentence, "my biggest fear is you changing your mind."

you wipe a tear from her face to no avail. more keep falling. you take a second to stare at her with a bittersweet smile on your lips.

"i'm never going to change my mind," you kiss her, "do you want to know why i know that?"

"why?" she inquires, gazing into your eyes with a look you hope to never notice in her expression again. "i know because i've experienced life without you," you answer softly, your voice trembling, "and it is the single most unbearable thing i can think of."

her expression softens at your words and you instantly feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"there's nothing in this world that would ever make me want to go back to that. not a single camera or fan can make me let go of you. i don't care if everyone watches our every move, i don't care if it's hard, i don't care if we're the subject of every headline. if it means getting to be with you, i will go through it all with a smile on my face. i will choose you every time, taylor. i love you."

her tears have partially subsided by this point as you gently stroke her face. she takes your hand and plants a kiss on the back of it like she did earlier.

"i love you too, but are you sure?" she presses her lips together and furrows her brows lightly. "i'm so sure it hurts," you smile, wiping away the last of your tears before kissing her. you both seem to have forgotten her still bleeding hand until she winces and looks down.

"oh shit," she exclaims and her eyes widen. "oh shit is right," you bring her hand closer to your face and examine the cut, "let me take care of this for you."

you look back up at her and you lock eyes for a few seconds, exchanging a silent vow as the corners of her lips turn into a smile.

#fanfic #fanfiction #wlw #angst #taylor swift wlw #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift #taylornation #taylor angst #taylor swift x y/n #taylor swift fanfiction #taylor swift fic #taylor wlw

29 notes · View notes

what-if-i-like-my-mechs-older · 3 months ago

Text

Pt20

(I'm not great at describing scenery, so just some conference like room with different tables and large switched off screens and lamp like lighting is what it looks like for them.)

(Also TC talks somewhat about a kink of his, but it's not the main focus of this ramble.)

"You know I've thought about putting a human in my mouth."

Thundercracker laughed awkwardly as he leaned on the table next to Orion, even his laugh was nervous.

Megatron who was in the corner checking over the reports from Soundwave cast him a look and then one over to Orion, but didn't say anything.

In some of these cases he was just curious as to how Orion would react to such things.

Optimus had his feet up on the desk and kept reading the non classified documents he'd been given, simply checking for mistakes in spelling, he however did not look up as he swiped to the next page, wishing he was repairing space bridges instead of this. Desk duty at least in the Elite guard had been the absolute worst.

But then again he'd been fixing Sentinels problems at the time and of course that mech always took the credit for literally everything.

"Uhhh you mean you want to eat...humans, Thundercracker? Is it?"

Orion's ear fins twitched nervously.

"Oh Primus no! What in the ...no I mean like um...uhhh..."

Both mechs looked at him this time , fingers hovering over their data pads.

"So hum anyway how do you know my name exactly?"

Megatron , placed his glasses on the desk he wasn't going to let his seeker get out of that so easily.

"No, Thundercracker you had something to say, by all means continue, it is not as if Orion isn't being grounded right now as it is, have a conservation , let the whole 'class' hear."

"Megatron, don't torment him , he-"

"Orion, this is my soldier and if he's just going to come up to you with out so much as a hello how do you do before starting with his fantasies he doesn't get to just change the subject."

Megatron stopped him from defending Thundercracker with a firm tone and looked back at his soldier.

"Well, I um...over time...on this mudball, I've seen things, people and...have become a little...fascinated by them....and size difference."

Orion really did feel for the seeker, he was absolutely floundering.

Thundercracker's fists clenched as he stared up at the ceiling making a frustrated noise.

"I saw your sand guardian video , your human form, and it was hot okay, I want to rip of your humanoid versions layerings from it's body, put you in my mouth and use my tongue in ways until you're squirming and overloading repeatedly in my mouth!"

He glared at Megatron as if to say 'there , you happy!'

Megatron's smile had a sadistic twist that said

'Extremely so.'

Orion however was unfazed and had returned to his documentation.

"Wait you're not bothered by that?"

"Compared to the fan mail I received after helping to defeat Megatron and the other Decepticons, that was was tame, I've read things that make me wish I could unread them."

Thundercracker took a seat and both Decepticons pulled in closer. Even though no one had really said it, they wanted to know more about his world.

"Your Megatron must have been a weak fool, to be defeated by such an agile frame such as yourself."

Megatron chuckled.

"Like him you underestimate me, but maybe that is a Universal trait. If Optimus has not stopped you in this world , perhaps you simply have not pissed him off enough to try?"

Thundercracker sucked in his lips after that comment, desperately trying not to laugh, especially at the expense of his Leader.

Megatron looked unimpressed and even less so at Thundercracker.

"So, did you kill him?"

"No, he told me to end it, I didn't. He needed to pay for his crimes, go on a fair trial...funny enough he's now turned Autobot and on a Ship with Rodimus Prime."

(I just made a mtmte reference there , yes I did , fite me...but not really ....cause I am writing this for me so shush)

"I see, and you and him, do you enjoy my company because of him?"

Orion knew what Megatron was referring to and swiped to the next page after clearing that one.

"You two hardly look alike, but no, we grew to have a begruding respect for one another, his sites were set on Rodimus. Rodimus will be fine he has enough attitude for the Universe."

Thundercracker blinked, that was certainly interesting

"So you wasn't disappointed that you and he never."

"Not one bit-"

He turned back to Megatron , cooing over him but his voice was patronising as he patted his face

"So you don't have to worry your little self about me comparing the two of you at all."

"Little! I'm not-"

Orion pressed one of the yellow marks on the back of his hand that opened up a panel in his palm as he showed him the size difference of himself next to his version of Megatron.

"What am I looking at here?"

He leaned in closer to the image as it slowly rotated , as did Thundercracker.

"You must be exaggerating, that's...he's roughly the size of Devastator..."

Megatron looked at the image and then up at Optimus and then at the image again.

"Of course I had help from my team mates, one whom died putting the Allspark together."

The Decepticon leader poked at the image, which distorted at the interference.

"If he was in this room, could he even stand?"

Orion looked around the room.

"At best, he could stand while being partially bent over."

Closing off the image Orion then turned the next page as if he hadn't just blown their minds with size differences and tidbit information.

"I am supposed to be doing tedious work here, I missed our time this morning sir, how else am I to learn discipline and take you seriously if we sit around talking like protoforms behind the academy gossiping."

Orion huffed , a finger tapping impatiently on the back of his data pad.

"Alright, alright, just please , what was my counter part like?"

Orion turned his head slowly to Thundercracker and forced a smile

"You were a piece of Starscream, he made clones, all that took on a piece of his personality, your counter part didn't exist until he built you and placed a fragment of the all spark inside your chest."

"Oh...uh which trait did he have?"

It was obvious that Thundercracker was disappointed at this information.

"Ego, he had Starscream’s ego."

He placed his Datapad down and held out a hand for him....no wait , that custom might not even exist for Cybertronians.

He took an unexpectant Thundercrackers hand and shook it

"But it's nice to meet you, you and Skywarps are firsts for me."

"You have odd hand gestures Orion, first you make a promise by curling your little finger with the Casseticons and now this handshake?"

Megatron grumbled , taking Orion's hand away from Thundercrackers and looking over it as if it would explain some mystery.

"There's nothing secret about it, it's just a formal greeting."

"I see, and me, do you have any special greeting for me?"

"I uh..."

Orion was trying to go through his Data banks, thinking of all the films he'd seen on movie nights with Sari and even Issac.

"Well I never researched exactly where this one came from , but if I show you, it is platonically done as family members and friends also greet each other like this."

"If I find it agreeable, it must only be for me then."

Megatron stated waiting to see what this oh, so 'special' greeting was.

Orion went to his feet and motioned for him to do so aswell, he did and then Orion kissed each of his cheeks and hugged him.

"And then I think I say something of affection, however the affection type depends on the relationship between the two parties I believe."

Orion had been about to pull away only for Megatron to instinctually put his arms around him.

Hugs were rare amongst the Decepticons...it wasn't exactly common practice, but ...apparently he wasn't ready to let go of this one.

First piece

#transformers animated #transformers g1 #optimus prime #megop #megatron g1 #optimus tfa #writing this for me #cross over #thundercracker #transformers #rodimus mentioned #tfa megarod mentioned

25 notes · View notes

grison-in-space · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I would like to tell you about the other type of bat that maneuvers well on land, the common vampire bat. https://www.batcon.org/bats-that-run/. I was at the conference where the first (I think) footage of a vamp on a treadmill switching from crawl to gallop was shown, about 20 years ago, and let me tell you when it started to run the audience went *wild*. A bunch of scientists losing their shit like that is a thing rare and beautiful.

But also, yeah, bats are the worst of the extant true fliers. We've had the least time to adapt to it.

Yes! I also love the shit out of vampire bats, and they have to be maneuverable on the ground because their prey wakes up sometimes and you gotta get out of there. Especially if you're pissing the whole time so you can get the heavy water out and you can filter the useful stuff!

I would not in the slightest say that bats are the worst of the extant true fliers, though. Like I said, bats beat birds all hollow when it comes to maneuverability in the air and agility. Consider the swifts, who share the most common lifestyle with bats: eating flying insects on the wing! Swifts are so successful precisely because they have gone all-in on flying in ways that make them remarkably batlike: they are rather clumsy and tend to cling with their whole bodies to surfaces, are fond of caves, eat on the wing, and among the swiftlets, a few have even evolved rudimentary echolocation.

By contrast, bats are even more maneuverable in the air than a swift. Their membranous wings allow some species to scoop insects into their mouths using hind limbs or tails, which swifts cannot do with their relatively stiff feathers. The muscles in the wings of bats allow them to shape the flying surface superbly cleanly and specifically, and their wrists and hands let them adapt the wing surface to prevalent air conditions, too. This is why hovering, for example, is a common ability in bats and very very rare in birds.

Bats are expensive fliers, sure. But that doesn't mean that they're worse at flying. They're just specialized for a very different, high-metabolism, precision kind of flight, and a huge part of that is a function of phylogenetic constraints that serve to provide bats with advantages and disadvantages relative to birds. (For example, the respiratory system of birds is inarguably far superior to the diaphragm and lungs mammals use in terms of oxygen metabolism during flight, but that's not the kind of thing bats are likely to invent, given time to do so; on the other hand, the swiftlet echolocation story is fascinating but mammalian hearing being tuned to high frequencies not otherwise attainable by vertebrates allows echolocation to develop into high-resolution sensory pictures; it also allows much more in the way of bat eavesdropping on insect prey than birds are able to accomplish.

I just. I do love bats an awful lot for someone who has never worked on them and probably never will--I am very comfortable in Rodentia at this point. They are so clearly themselves and they provide so many really delightful ways of looking at the world in a way that is different from birds, and I really love the ways that convergent evolution of flight demonstrates to us that even less efficient ways of getting a job done can still have unexpected benefits.

#day job #bats

19 notes · View notes

breanime · 2 years ago

Text

Bre's Random Thots: HOTD and TLK Edition

In relation to this poll-- don't forget to vote!

Warning: Steamy, NSFW, yandere tendencies, if you know what I am, you know what this is gonna be lol

Characters: Aemond Targaryen, Sihtric Kjartansson, Finan the Agile

I'm considering writing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson, Uhtred Ragnarsson, Cregan Stark

Obsessed Arranged Marriage--Aemond Targaryen

Aemond found no sleep the night he was told that his hand had been promised to you, afraid if he closed his eye, he would awaken from this dream. You were to be his. You, with your sharp wit and bright mind and pretty face and soft-looking, plump lips. Aemond had spent months pining for you, fixated on his sister's pretty new friend, wanting nothing more than to touch you, hold you...

Claim you.

And now, you would be his, bound to him by law and vow, promised to him through weeks of negotiations that neither of you had been privy to. He had spent the first part of the night pacing, thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. What if your family withdrew and broke their promise? What if, after the vows had been said, you did not accept him? What if you never loved him? Aemond's pacing had ceased at that thought, his stomach churning in a swirl of despair and rage at the idea of you rejecting him. But then, as he pictured you, his mind supplied him with an answer to his silent question. What if you never loved him?

He would have you still.

Aemond stood, silent and tense, as he pictured you, his pretty wife, bound to him until death took you both. Even if you never loved him, he would have you. You would be his, and he spent the next portion of his evening imagining, in great detail, all of the ways he could claim you. He pictured the way your mouth would look around his cock, stuffed with him, eyes wide open and gazing up at him as you sat on your knees. He thought of the sounds you would make as he fucked you--no, made love to you--no. Fucked.

The last of the night, until the sun rose and his body, already dedicated to pleasing you, sagged with exhaustion, was spent fucking his fist, pretending it was your mouth, your cunt, your tight, tiny asshole, until Aemond had emptied his balls.

And still, he wanted you.

Aemond watched the sun rise over King's Landing, heard the low grumbles of Vhagar rising in the distance, and sighed. His hand was still feebly wrapped around his now soft cock, abused to exhaustion at just the thought of you, his wife to be.

He felt himself twitch in his hand, tempted at the reminder of what you would become to him--his wife, and Aemond couldn't help but smirk, amused at his own desperation. You were to be his, and his alone.

He would have you.

Sihtric Kjartansson--Modern Jealous

Sihtric had an Instagram for two reasons: one, because Finan said it was weird not to have one, and two, because you had an Instagram.

He scrolled through his feed, ignoring most of the posts, but taking note of a few. Edward posted a picture with Uhtred at some conference the latter had been forced to go to, using Sihtric's friend to gain clout, no doubt. Meanwhile, Uhtred posted a story--tagging Sihtric, of course--showing the guys going absolutely insane at the bar last night. Sihtric bit his lip as he watched the story, his mismatched eyes immediately finding himself in the background, even with Uhtred's shaky camerawork. Sihtric was easy to find, after all.

He was always standing next to you.

In the video, Uhtred was showing the crowd to the camera, grinning widely with Finan at his side, gesturing to a very drunk Osferth off to the side, clearly flirting with some girl while another watched, arms folded. Aldhelm was there as well, smiling shyly, eyes on his cup, as Aethelflaed, always that much more affectionate when tipsy, laid her head on his shoulder. Sihtric smiled warmly for a moment at the memory--it had been a good night, last night. The smile, however, quickly slid into a smirk as the images flashed in front of his eyes, documented by Uhtred. Sihtric saw himself, his tattoos glistening against his skin, holding you to him, his large hands on your waist. You were laughing, and Sihtric could almost hear the sweet sounds of your pleasure over the music, could see the way the sweat slid down your neck as you laughed. Even now, he felt himself stiffen, his cock rising at the thought of your neck, exposed for him, covered in his kiss, his bite. He had experienced a similar thought last night, and Sihtric watched as he acted on it.

In the video, Sihtric pulled you that much closer, one of his large hands gripping your ass, his tattooed fingers curling into your soft curves until his face was buried in your neck. He watched himself latch onto you, and his eyes widened as he saw, for the first time, the face you made when he did that. Sihtric grinned, teeth bared like a wolf, as he watched the way your face contorted; your cute little nose scrunched up as your pretty mouth fell open in a gasp, how your tiny little hands clung to him, wanting him closer, and Gods, Sihtric couldn't wait to see you again and get you closer, fuck, the way you looked, he just--

--the video morphed into the next slide, and Sihtric was reminded that this was Uhtred's story, as vivid as the memories were, what he was looking at now (a scowling Brida flipping off the camera while Cnut, red as a tomato, raised his empty glass in a toast), was public. Anyone could see it.

Anyone.

Could see it. You. Your sexy, beautiful face alive with pleasure.

Sihtric scowled, suddenly frustrated. That face was for him, and him alone. It wasn't fair that others could see it, would see it... but then again, Sihtric thought, barely registering the next slide of the story being shown-- Osferth with a third, different girl--maybe this was too his advantage. Sihtric enjoyed marking you up, displaying his claim on you. He liked to touch you too, keep an arm on you or his hand on your thigh, so everyone around could tell that you were his girl. And so now, with this video, that fact was broadcast that much further. really, he should be thanking Uhtred. Because now, everyone who followed him (which were a LOT of people, it was insane), could see those few seconds on his story and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were Sihtric's woman. The story flashed twice more, depicting Finan and Uhtred teasing Aldhelm-- about his crush on Aethelflaed, Sihtric knew, and then a video of a fondly exasperated Hild in a Sihtric-Uhtred-Finan bear hug while Osferth could be seen making out with a fourth girl in the background, before the story--and Sihtric's temper--flashed again.

The next image was of you and Uhtred. This did not spark Sihtric's temper at all; he loved how close you were with his friends, they all adored you, and Sihtric felt he could trust any of them to look after you if he was ever gone. In fact, the picture was cute. Sihtric took a screenshot so he could keep it. You stood beside Uhtred, posing the same as him, your face smug and proud in a perfect imitation of his brash friend. Since you were copying Uhtred, you were standing like him, feet apart, face forward, chest pushed up, that cute expression on your face making Sihtric's heart swell with affection. Immediately afterwards, Uhtred's story switched to a text box, and Sihtric saw that Uhtred had tagged him in it. The text read: "Stop asking about her, she's with @Sihtric" accompanied by an emoji rolling its eyes.

And that'd when the jealousy went from mild to... something else. His thumb moved as quickly as his mind did, until he was hearing a ringing tone followed by Uhtred sighing, "Yeah, Sihtric?" He already knew where this was going.

Sihtric knew he was being ridiculous, overprotective, and unnecessarily possessive, but he didn't know how else to be. You were his, and his only, and he thought he has made that clear. He answered Uhtred with a low voice, eyes narrowed.

"Who's been asking about my woman?"

Waking Up Together--Finan the Agile

Finan loved waking up with you. He loved how you cuddled into his chest, loved the way his big arms engulfed you, loved how soft you felt against him. He almost always woke before you did, a habit of his warrior lifestyle and constantly being on the move. He didn't mind it so much now, though, because it gave him some quiet time to reflect before the day took his mind away.

He loved you.

Carefully, because even after all this time, Finan still secretly feared he might somehow hurt you, he ran his fingers down your arm. Your skin was warm under his touch, and Finan smiled to himself as you nuzzled into his broad chest. He found himself kissing your hairline, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in your scent. He had humped you on the riverbank last night, his forehead pressed against yours as he fucked into you. Finan sighed at the memory, his cock, already half-hard simply from being near you, growing even harder as he recalled the feel of your wet pussy pulsating around him. He kissed your forehead now with a tenderness that would have surprised many if they knew about it. But you did that to him, brought out his softer side, his need to protect you, to take care of you, to bring you pleasure and security and to love you.

But then again, you brought out another side to him as well.

Finan smirked, kissing down to your nose, as he thought back to earlier the previous day, sometime after him having you for breakfast, his strong hands keeping your legs open as he licked into you and before him pressing against your round ass, his cross slapping into his chest with every thrust shortly after he fucked you on the riverbank, to right after suppertime.

Finan held you close now as he thought back to the way he had slammed you on the table, tearing your dress, grinning wildly as the fabric ripped, exposing your perfect breasts to his probing tongue and hands. He had his face buried between your tits then, biting into your supple flesh and then soothing it with his dripping tongue. He had no patience then, and he took you hard and fast, much to your mutual satisfaction. Finan had fucked you like a beast, hands gripping your hips and pulling you to him as you laid on your back, legs in the air, head thrown back in pleasure. You always took him well, and Finan adored the way you loved a rough fuck. He was so big, so thick, he loved the way you would tremble taking him.

Now, Finan was fully hard. He wanted you, and he sighed sweetly as he held you, lips brushing against yours. Your nose twitched at the feel of his beard against your soft face, and Finan chuckled. He leaned forward, the mattress moving beneath him as one large hand fell to your ass, cupping it firmly as he pushed you even closer, his hard cock pressing against your soft tummy. He felt your lips pucker, and he knew you were waking up. He kissed you, soft and slow, his mouth pressing into yours with a low groan, moving against you until your lips parted. His tongue slid into your mouth easily, and he rolled on top of you, smirking when you spread your legs to make room for him.

"Good mornin' to ya, love," he whispered, his accent thickened from waking up and from the deep, insatiable desire he felt for you, "Can I fuck you?"

************************************************************************

Okkkkk goodnight! Please let me know what you think, how you feel, which one you liked best. I wrote this all at once just now, so please know that NONE of these are WIPs (Work In Progress), I just was inspired by the awesome fics I've been reading lately, and @fvckthisbxtchup specifically got my engine revving today, so if you did like any of these, thank her! Love you babe!

Again, please let me know what you think of these. I haven't written in a long time, I'm rusty, I admit that, but I also had so much fun writing these, and I wanna interact with these fandoms more so... this! This is my third time writing Aemond and my first time wiritng Sihtric and Finan, so let me know how I did! :D

I did this poll regarding some more snippets or fics or drabbles or whatever I may do in the future, please vote if you haven't already!

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #sihtric kjartanson #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric x reader #sihtric imagine #finan the agile #finan imagine #finan x reader #the last kingdom

164 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 3 months ago

Text

I started reporting a Profile of the Senate Majority Leader, John Thune, based on a simple premise. With Democrats shut out of power in Washington, the fate of Donald Trump’s sweeping plans was in the hands of congressional Republicans, and no one would have a more significant role than Thune in determining the outcome.

But Trump, from his first weeks in office, has instead threatened to render Congress almost irrelevant. He has governed by fiat, through executive orders, defying congressional spending statutes and daring the courts to try to stop him. With the help of Elon Musk’s buzz saw, Trump has mounted an unremitting assault on the legislature’s exclusive authority to control federal spending, which is its main leverage over the executive branch in the Constitution’s separation of powers.

Trump appeared unlikely to face open resistance from the Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson—happy to be known as MAGA Mike—whom I had written about last year for the magazine. I found Johnson to be a politician of exceptional agility. In the aftermath of the 2020 election, he had endeared himself to Trump by selling his House Republican colleagues on a politically elegant, if legally questionable, way to reject Joe Biden’s victory without having to endorse Trump’s demonstrably false claims of widespread fraud. And since becoming Speaker he has astonished Washington with an uncanny ability to hold together both the squishily moderate and hard-right factions of the raucous House Republican Conference while building an ever-closer alliance with Trump.

Thune seemed different. Whereas Johnson first entered the House, in 2016, on Trump’s coattails, Thune is a Republican of the Reagan-Bush vintage, first elected to the Senate, from South Dakota, in 2004. After the 2020 election, he declared that Trump’s demand to reject the results “would go down like a shot dog” in the Senate. In a party led by a President notoriously careless about the truth, Thune is invariably described by even his Democratic opponents as unusually honest. Former Senator Lamar Alexander, a Tennessee Republican and a friend of Thune’s, told me “you don’t think of guile when you think of John Thune.”

I hung around the U.S. Capitol’s Ohio Clock Corridor, just outside Thune’s office, for months for a chance to ask him how he handled his relationship with Trump: “Very carefully,” he told me, with a chuckle, when we finally sat down. But he also insisted that “the Senate has a unique role in our democracy, and our job is to defend that role, and at times, if necessary, to push back.” He has vowed to preserve the Senate filibuster, a rule that would enable the Democratic minority to severely curtail efforts to engrave into law Musk’s cuts and the rest of Trump’s agenda. In the end, Thune’s “pushback”—hard to discern at the moment—may determine the relevance of the Senate, and of the separation of powers.

On January 8th, in an ornate hall of the United States Capitol, five Republican senators stood behind President-elect Donald Trump as he talked to the Capitol Hill press. Four listened impassively, but John Thune could hardly stand still. As Trump began describing a “lovefest” in Greenland over his plans to annex it, Thune turned away, as though distracted by oncoming footsteps. He crossed his arms, stared at his feet, rocked from side to side, moved his hands in and out of his pockets, and fidgeted with his suit jacket as Trump spewed falsehoods: that the diversion of water for “a tiny little fish” had kept Los Angeles from putting out fires; that illegal immigrants were mainly murderers or mental patients; that China was “running the Panama Canal.”

After Trump left, Thune, who was about to take over as the leader of the Senate’s new majority, gamely echoed the President’s insistence that Republicans stood “united on his agenda.” Yet Thune, as he often does, subjected that agenda to notable edits, making Trump’s platform sound like that of a Reagan-era Republican: bolstering the military, bringing down taxes, “securing the border,” producing more energy. He said nothing about Trump’s signature policies—across-the-board tariffs, mass deportations, a purge of the “deep state,” pressing Ukraine to end its fight against Russia, pulling away from NATO. Asked about Trump’s wildly impractical campaign promise to stop taxing tips, Thune said only that the idea was “on the table.” Would Trump’s priorities be packaged in one big bill or two staggered ones? And which chamber would take the lead? All this was “an ongoing conversation—I’ll put it that way,” Thune said, as an aide hurried him off.

Thune, a fourth-term senator from South Dakota, is an awkward leader for Trump’s ruthless Republican Party, in part because even Democrats invariably describe him as amiable and honest. A senior Democratic aide told me that Thune is “incapable of lying.” Kevin Woster, a former reporter for the Sioux Falls Argus Leader who covered Thune for decades, told me that the senator used to hold weekly conference calls with South Dakota journalists. When Thune tried to sell Republican talking points about the perfidy of whatever Democrats were doing, Woster recalled, “I’d ask him, ‘But, John, Republicans really did the same thing, didn’t they?,’ and he’d say, ‘Yeah, we’re really at fault, too. That’s true.’ Who does that?” Before Thune became the Party leader, journalists would crowd the hallway outside his Capitol office. Unlike Mitch McConnell, the taciturn and cunning leader at the time, Thune genuinely tried to answer questions. He was seldom cutting or caustic, and rarely tossed off a memorable line that might begin or end a newspaper article. As a veteran congressional reporter told me, Thune could be counted on for a reliable “middle quote.” A Republican aide who knows Thune described him to me as hypercompetitive but also “Midwestern nice.” (“Southern nice”—like Mike Johnson, the Louisiana Republican who is the Speaker of the House—can be double-edged, as in “Bless your heart!”) Lamar Alexander, a former Republican senator from Tennessee and a friend of Thune’s, noted a contrast between him and the two most recent Majority Leaders, McConnell and the Democratic senator Chuck Schumer: those men are renowned for their guile, and “you don’t think of guile when you think of John Thune.”

We sat down in mid-March for an interview in Thune’s grand new office, and I asked him how he communicated with Trump, given their differences in style and substance. “Very carefully,” he said, with a chuckle. Did he find it difficult to work with a President so little concerned with accuracy? “Well, I mean, we’re very different personalities,” Thune said—“a very big personality” and “a boring Midwesterner.” He argued that Trump had “qualities very useful for his job,” such as “enormous stamina.” Although Trump is beginning his second term as President, Thune expressed sympathy for him as “somebody who hasn’t been around a legislative body for any length of time” and for whom “in some ways it is all a little bit of a foreign language.” Thune said that he ran for leader “to be a bridge to the White House.” He added, “I’ve always felt like I can sort of get along with anybody,” noting that his relationship with Trump “on a personal level has gotten more comfortable over time.” He concluded, “I’m straight with him, and he’s straight with me.”

Thune’s candor often stood out in the course of Trump’s rise to power. During the 2016 race, Thune condemned Trump’s expressions of bigotry as “inappropriate.” After the leak of the “Access Hollywood” video, on which Trump boasted about grabbing women by the genitals, Thune was one of the first Republican senators to demand that Trump quit the race “immediately,” though the election was only a month away. And, even after Trump’s victory, Thune never masked his opposition to the President’s most cherished plans. In a 2017 television interview, he objected to the mass deportation of illegal immigrants, adding that “a lot of my colleagues” shared his view. He has called across-the-board tariffs “a recipe for increased inflation” that would punish South Dakota farmers and ranchers by setting off trade wars. He has consistently stood with what he calls “our trusted intel community” on the conclusion that Russia indeed meddled to help Trump in the 2016 election; he has called Vladimir Putin “a murderous thug” whose invasion of Ukraine proved “the value of NATO.” Thune also often praises wind energy—a booming industry in his home state—even though Trump considers turbines loathsome eyesores.

Trump’s demand that Congress refuse to certify Joe Biden’s 2020 election win elicited one of Thune’s few memorable turns of phrase: he told journalists that the request would “go down like a shot dog” in the Senate. After January 6th, Thune called Trump’s role in the riot “inexcusable.” Linda Duba, a friend from South Dakota and a retired Democratic state legislator whose children used to run in track meets alongside Thune’s, told me that she once asked him what working with Trump was like. “Not fun,” Thune had said. Another old friend was blunt: “I think he thinks Trump’s an ass.”

Trump, for his part, used to mock Thune as a McConnell lackey—“Mitch’s boy.” After the “shot dog” comment, Trump accused Thune of “weakness” and sought to back a primary challenge against him. Trump mouthpieces tried to block Thune’s ascent to Party leader; Tucker Carlson, for example, declared that Thune hated “Trump and what he ran on.”

The senators, though, keep their ballots secret. Without fear of Trump’s retribution, they chose Thune, by a vote of 29–24. The selection of a non-MAGA Party leader suggested that Senate Republicans may not be as reflexively devoted to Trump as many liberals assume. It was also a measure of the senators’ cynicism: Thune represents what they might stand for if Trump weren’t looking. Yet the gap between the senators’ private votes and their public fealty to Trump also poses a risk to Thune’s status as leader. With each biennial congressional election, more MAGA diehards have joined the Senate while Reagan-Bush holdovers have left (or reinvented themselves as America First converts). Given Trump’s towering popularity among G.O.P. primary voters, only a handful of the fifty-three Republican senators have been willing to risk even a slight public break with him. And, were the President to turn against Thune again, some MAGA true believer would surely be eager to replace him. John Barrasso, a Wyoming senator who was considered a leading contender to succeed McConnell, now serves as the second-ranking Republican in the chamber. After the November election, he staked out his position as a MAGA champion by declaring, while standing next to Thune at a press conference, that Trump’s return marked “the remaking of the Republican Party for the better.”

When Thune gave his first floor speech as Senate leader, he pledged, in effect, to stand up to the President. He vowed to preserve the filibuster—a Senate rule that checks the power of a majority by requiring sixty votes to cut off debate and get almost anything done. It would take only a simple majority to change the rule if the Majority Leader scheduled a vote on it, and Trump, during his first term, unsuccessfully demanded some thirty times that McConnell and the Republicans do so. It is axiomatic on Capitol Hill that Trump will resume that push the next time the Democrats use the filibuster to thwart him.

To everyone’s surprise, however, the new Trump Administration has made the filibuster almost beside the point. Instead of trying to bulldoze the Senate, Trump has simply driven around it. He has sought to govern by fiat, through executive orders, brazenly ignoring federal spending statutes and daring courts to try to stop him. Several Republican senators told me they worried that Congress—paralyzed by decades of partisan gridlock—had already ceded too much of its power to the executive branch. As Elon Musk’s so-called Department of Government Efficiency swings its chainsaw through congressionally mandated federal spending, Trump is now threatening to push the legislature from ineffectiveness to obsolescence.

In the mid-March interview, Thune acknowledged that, “right now, there’s a tension” between the Senate and the executive branch. He said several times that the Trump Administration was “testing limits”—including through “stuff that DOGE is doing.” Yet Thune insisted that “the Senate has a unique role in our democracy, and our job is to defend that role, and at times, if necessary, to push back.” DOGE’s handiwork “will get litigated,” he predicted, and, “at the end of the day, the structure works, and, I think, the institutions stay standing.” Thune, in other words, was counting on the judicial branch to protect the legislative branch.

Saxby Chambliss, a former Republican senator from Georgia and a friend of Thune’s who talks to him often, told me that Thune is ready for “adversarial conversations” with Trump, and that he will “be as tough as he needs to be.” Joe Manchin, the Democratic-turned-Independent former senator from West Virginia and another close friend of Thune’s, agreed. He said that, with MAGA loyalists now dominating the House of Representatives, and the Democrats flailing at one another over their own impotence, Thune was “the keeper of the seal.” It would be up to Thune alone to “convince the White House that we have three equal and independent branches of government.”

In a city aptly described as Hollywood for ugly people, Thune could pass for an actual movie star, with pale-blue eyes, a square jaw, and Mt. Rushmore cheekbones. Now sixty-four, he has salt-and-pepper hair that is still thick enough to part neatly on the side, and the broad shoulders, thick arms, and narrow waist of a basketball player. His morning workouts at the Senate gym are legendary. Until a recent knee injury, Thune held the informal title of the fastest man in Congress. (He has likened that honor to “the best surfer in Kansas.”) The phrases “looks the part” and “central casting” come up in nearly every conversation about him. John McCain, a two-time Presidential contender, used to joke that he would have won the White House had he looked like Thune. The South Carolina senator Lindsey Graham, who liked to respond that McCain’s wife, Cindy, “would be happier, too,” told me that Thune “is a guy you really want to hate—so tall, good-looking, beautiful wife—but you can’t, because he is so genuinely nice.” Some journalists who cover the Capitol have given Thune the nickname Hot Grandpa.

Thune’s physicality played a role in the chance encounter that started his political career. He grew up in the tiny town of Murdo, South Dakota, the fourth of five children. His father, a decorated Navy vet who’d been a star basketball player for the University of Minnesota, taught and coached at the town high school, where Thune’s mother was a librarian. High-school sports were virtually the only entertainment in town. Bruce Venard, a friend of Thune’s whose family owns an auto-repair shop there, told me, “In those days, if you wanted to be somebody, you showed it on the basketball court, on the football field, on the track.” Thune was a standout in all three sports. In one high-school basketball game, he sank five of six free throws. Later, at a store, he ran into Jim Abdnor, a Republican congressman from a nearby town who often turned up to cheer for high-school sports teams. “I noticed you missed one,” Abdnor teased him. Thune’s parents were Democrats. But Thune became Abdnor’s protégé.

In 1980, the year Ronald Reagan first won the Presidency, Abdnor took George McGovern’s Senate seat. Thune, who’d graduated from high school the previous year and followed his older brothers to Biola University, an evangelical school near L.A., volunteered for the campaign. After earning a business degree at the University of South Dakota, in 1984, he joined Abdnor’s Senate office as a legislative aide focussed on tax policy. (Abdnor, who never married, hired a series of young men from South Dakota, forming a kind of surrogate family. Some lived with him in his apartment near Washington, working as a combination of driver and aide. They called themselves the Li’l Abdnors.)

Abdnor lost his seat to Tom Daschle in 1986, and Thune followed his mentor to the Small Business Administration. Adbnor’s connections then set Thune up for a series of political jobs back home, including state railroad director and executive director of the South Dakota Republican Party. He was elected to the House at the age of thirty-five and ran for the Senate six years later, in 2002, against the Democratic incumbent, Tim Johnson.

In retrospect, the parallels to the 2020 Presidential campaign are uncanny. Thune led by more than three thousand votes on Election Night, but by morning the tables had turned. Late returns showed an unusually high turnout on a large Oglala Sioux reservation. Thune lost the race by just five hundred and twenty-four votes. South Dakota is sometimes called the Mississippi of the North because of pervasive racism toward its Native American minority. Operatives and donors urged Thune to demand a recount, reasoning that, even if the effort failed, allegations of reservation ballot stuffing would galvanize the Party’s base—much as President Trump’s allegations of voter fraud in predominantly Black cities energized his core supporters in 2020. But Abdnor, who was serving as an adviser to the Senate campaign, had always preached a more high-minded politics, and Thune decided to concede. Lee Schoenbeck, a former Li’l Abdnor who volunteered on the Senate campaign, told me that supporters “went out and made affidavits and did all the things that happened in 2020, and John just said, ‘No, I am not doing it.’ ”

Several Li’l Abdnors, who keep in touch with one another, told me that most of them disdained Trump’s incivility and lawlessness. Schoenbeck said, “The attack on America’s Capitol is something I don’t think Jim Abdnor could ever have gotten over, and that is all I am going to say about it.”

Two years after losing the 2002 Senate race, Thune challenged and beat Daschle, then the Democratic leader. In his victory speech, Thune addressed Abdnor: “Jim . . . we got your seat back!”

Thune arrived in Congress at a time that now looks like a high point of its power and effectiveness. In the nineties, lawmakers debated issues, committees drafted bills, and the parties compromised to tackle urgent problems. Congress sent Presidents George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton major legislation on trade, crime, environmental protection, financial regulation, civil rights, and other issues. Negotiations between the parties even closed the deficit, briefly. Philip Wallach, a fellow at the conservative American Enterprise Institute and the author of a timely book, “Why Congress,” told me that, looking back, “it’s really amazing—nothing like that has happened in the last fifteen years.”

Wallach argues that the Founders intended Congress to defuse the kind of polarization currently vexing our politics. In the Federalist Papers, James Madison worried about what he called “the violence of faction”—he feared that rival parties would put their own interests ahead of the common good, that a party in the majority would tyrannize the minority, and that an all-or-nothing battle for the upper hand would tear apart the Republic. Presidential elections could provide no remedy, because they are winner-take-all contests; the same is generally true of court verdicts. Congress is the sole branch of the U.S. government in which opposing factions can broker mutually acceptable solutions. In the Senate, especially, a tradition of unlimited debate—the origins of the filibuster rule—all but forced compromise by blocking a simple majority from taking action on its own. The necessity of power sharing also meant that Congress could provide a check against despotism even if the same party held the Presidency and a majority in both houses.

One turning point, Wallach told me, was Newt Gingrich’s Republican takeover of the House of Representatives, in 1994. Gingrich relished partisan warfare, demanded loyalty from his rank and file, and turned district elections into contests between the national parties. Political scientists have identified long-standing trends that have contributed to the deepening polarization of Congress, including the growing ideological homogeneity of each party and the breakdown of the media into echo chambers. But Wallach is surely correct that Congress, the branch of government designed to mediate factional conflicts, has succumbed to them—and even made them worse.

To more effectively wage partisan battles, Democratic and Republican leaders in both chambers consolidated their own power. Instead of relying on committees to draft bills, party leaders increasingly negotiated significant measures behind closed doors, then brought them to the floor for up-or-down votes—often in the form of giant “must-pass” bills against a tight deadline, such as measures to keep funding the government. In the Senate, the concentration of power has been especially stark. Senators used to take pride in proposing amendments during floor debates, facilitating bipartisan dealmaking even against party leaders’ wishes. Yet those leaders now often block individual senators from such freelancing by allowing consideration of only a limited number of amendments and then filling those slots with innocuous proposals of their own choosing—a tactic called “filling the tree.” The former Democratic Majority Leader Harry Reid pioneered this strategy in the two-thousands, and his successors from both parties have kept it up ever since.

In the Congress of 1991-92, Wallach noted, the Senate adopted more than sixteen hundred amendments. In 2023-24, that number fell to two hundred. And the last Congress passed just two hundred and seventy-four bills—down from about seven hundred a year during the late eighties and fewer than any Congress since before the Civil War. Of those two hundred and seventy-four bills, the ten longest were assembled by the party leaders, and they accounted for four-fifths of all the pages of legislation passed in that Congress.

Lawmakers sometimes grouse about their loss of power. Ten years ago, Mark Begich, then a Democratic senator from Alaska, tried, unsuccessfully, to instigate a revolt against Reid’s tree-filling. Lamar Alexander, another critic of the practice, told me that being elected to the chamber now resembled “joining the Grand Ole Opry and not being allowed to sing—it’s very disappointing.” Senator Ted Cruz, of Texas, complained to me that “what used to be an integral part of legislating—offering amendments, changing bills on the floor—has largely disappeared. Bills are drafted privately by the leaders of both parties, and ninety-eight other senators acquiesce to allowing two leaders to arrogate that power to themselves!” He continued, “Mitch McConnell ruled the conference as a monarch. He made the decisions, and he shared his thinking with no one.”

Thune is in some ways a throwback. At a time when cable-news coverage and online donations reward the noisiest partisans, he has built a reputation for quietly working in good faith with Democrats on the committees he has sat on, among them Agriculture and Commerce. Chris Lewis, the chief executive of Public Knowledge, a left-leaning advocacy group, told me that Thune opposed its positions on most issues, but called him “a straight shooter” who looked for “common ground” on such issues as rural broadband access. Several senators told me that, at the end of last year, Thune negotiated an agreement with Democratic leaders that allowed Biden to equal the number of judicial confirmations made during the first Trump Administration. In exchange, the Democrats agreed to drop a handful of liberal appellate nominees whom Republicans found especially objectionable, leaving those seats open. Senator Kirsten Gillibrand, a New York Democrat who participates in a weekly Bible study with Thune, told me that “he was fundamental to all the bipartisan work we did in the last cycle.” For example, Thune helped initiate talks on an immigration bill, even letting legislators use his office. In the end, the bill became a classic example of partisan paralysis: when Trump indicated that he preferred to leave the border problems unaddressed, so that he could keep campaigning on the issue, the Republicans killed the legislation.

In today’s Senate, bipartisan committee work produces little major legislation signed into law. An unusual spate of bipartisan bills that were produced early in the Biden Administration—on infrastructure, semiconductor manufacturing, and gun control—emerged from White House negotiations with “gangs” of senators informally deputized by their party leaders, not from traditional committees. As a result, Thune has few major laws to his name. In 2017, he was one of four Republicans McConnell charged with hammering out an internal Party consensus about a tax package. But this was an all-G.O.P. effort passed through a fifty-year-old process known as reconciliation, which allows a simple majority of senators to approve certain budget-related measures.

Candidates for congressional leadership now routinely pledge to bring back “regular order”—committees drafting bills, amendments debated on the floor. Thune promised this, too—“sort of,” Senator Josh Hawley, a Missouri Republican, told me. He said that he’d seen “no effort to reverse that trend and actually reëmpower senators.” Few lawmakers believe that such a restoration is imminent.

Similarly, the tradition of the filibuster—which increases the leverage of individual senators and circumscribes the majority—has grown tenuous. Each party, when in the minority, has used the filibuster to obstruct almost any action; then, when back on top, it has chipped away at the rule. When Democrats controlled the Senate during the Biden Administration, only the opposition of a pair of moderates—Manchin and the then senator Kyrsten Sinema—saved the filibuster from extinction. Now the Democrats can thank those two holdouts for preserving their best chance at constraining Trump.

Congress, stymied by gridlock, has increasingly failed to exercise even its most vital prerogative: the authority to control taxation and spending, which is the legislature’s main leverage over the executive. The first article of the Constitution, enumerating the powers of Congress, stipulates that “no Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by Law.” But Congress, unable to pass annual appropriations bills, now often relies on so-called continuing resolutions that essentially extend current spending levels in order to prevent the government from running out of money. A recent study concluded that since 2012 Congress has used such resolutions nearly half the time. Wallach said, “This sense of fiscal autopilot is really profound.”

In his book, Wallach projected that, if Congress continued its course of the past decade, it would eventually become either a useless circus or a mere rubber stamp, in either case ceding its authority to an increasingly dominant White House. Two months into the second Trump Administration, Wallach told me that Congress appeared to be devolving into that also-ran status much faster than he’d ever imagined. Moreover, after years of shrinking congressional power, the public seemed undisturbed. “Imagine being a young person who has only lived in the twenty-first century,” Wallach said. “How seriously could you really take the idea that all policy is supposed to come from Congress? The executive branch seems like the originator of all the most important policies going back your whole political consciousness.” Trump’s attempts to ignore or bully Congress look like a natural progression, not an aberration. “If Trump says, ‘I am going to embrace the idea that the White House is in charge and get a lot done,’ I don’t know how shocking that is to people,” he went on. The Republicans in control of Congress, he noted, had so far barely mustered any opposition to Trump’s strong-arming: “If we follow this trajectory, Congress will certainly be more marginal than ever before in American history.”

When factional loyalty supersedes all, a President whose party controls Congress hardly needs to worry about the courts, which have little enforcement muscle of their own. A President determined to go it alone could arbitrarily hand out or withhold federal grants, contracts, and jobs; impose or remove selective tariffs according to whim; exploit his public office for personal profit; promote friends’ interests; direct or squash criminal prosecutions; reshape regulations to benefit favored businessmen. In fact, Trump has already attempted all these things. A President unencumbered by congressional oversight might wield such powers over media companies, universities, labor unions, trade associations, and the donors to advocacy groups or political campaigns. By rewarding obeisance and muffling dissent, he could make voting out the ruling party more and more difficult. That is how authoritarians operate around the world.

Lamar Alexander reminded me of a maxim from the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, the conservative icon. Scalia said that “every tinhorn dictator” and “President for life” has a Bill of Rights; it’s the separation of powers that has kept Americans free.

When Trump first took office, in 2017, Thune joined other Republican congressional leaders in what amounted to an opportunistic bargain. They basically ignored the new President’s falsehoods, insults, conspiracy theories, protectionism, xenophobia, and the rest of it. In exchange, they tried to capitalize on his supporters’ passion in order to score G.O.P. victories on issues such as tax cuts and judicial confirmations. With characteristic forthrightness, Thune, who was then the third-ranking Senate Republican, told the Times that Republicans had accepted Trump’s tendency to “say things on a daily basis that we’re not going to like.” But, he added, if senators “stay focused” and “get that stuff enacted—those would be big wins.”

McConnell took this bargain to a duplicitous extreme. He was publicly enthusiastic about the agenda of the new Administration, but behind the scenes he conspired daily with Paul Ryan, then the Speaker of the House, to curb Trump’s impulses. Both lawmakers describe their efforts in a new biography of McConnell, “The Price of Power,” written, with his coöperation, by the journalist Michael Tackett. Ryan explains that he and McConnell saw Trump as “an amoral narcissist” with “zero regard” for the Constitution who would “shoot the messengers” whenever they explained the limits of a President’s power.

McConnell gave Tackett access to private oral-history recordings he made during the first Trump Administration, and they are scathing. In the recordings, and in later interviews, McConnell describes Trump as unfit for office; “uncontrollable”; “not very smart, irascible, nasty”; “beyond erratic”; “stupid” and “ill-tempered”; a “sleazeball”; and “despicable.” After the 2020 election, McConnell said that Senate Republicans were “counting the days” until Trump left office. McConnell called Trump’s role in the January 6th assault on the Capitol “an impeachable offense,” and Tackett describes the Majority Leader’s decision to vote against impeachment anyway—on the basis that Trump had left office, and voters and judges would keep him out of politics—as “likely the worst political miscalculation of McConnell’s career.”

By opening up to Tackett, McConnell essentially dropped his mask. Lindsey Graham, a former Trump critic who has reinvented himself as the President’s golfing buddy, told me that McConnell had been too honest. “Mitch has burned every bridge” and squandered his influence, Graham told me. Thune “would never do that,” because of that Midwestern niceness. Yet Thune, a McConnell lieutenant and confidant throughout Trump’s first term, has hardly distanced himself from the former Majority Leader. In interviews, Thune has said that he still asks McConnell for advice, crediting him with “an outsized influence” on issues such as national security.

In fact, the Trump takeover of the G.O.P. so dispirited Thune that in 2022 he contemplated retiring. He lamented to journalists that too many “quality people”—Reagan-Bush Republicans—were leaving the Senate. If Democrats ended the filibuster, Thune added, the Senate “won’t be a fun place to be.”

A friend of Thune’s told me that the senator had gone through a period of soul-searching that bordered on depression: “He was asking, Where did his life go? And what had happened to his party?” But the friend said that Thune’s thoughts of retirement had collided with his feelings about January 6th: “Who is going to be there to certify that the votes are counted in the next election? Who is going to be there to stand against the crazies?” At the end of 2021, Senator Susan Collins, a Maine Republican and another friend, told the Times that she would “truly be beside myself” if Thune left the Senate. As if to persuade him to stay, she added, “We’ve just got to plow through this to the post-Donald Trump era, which I believe is coming.” Sinema, a former Arizona senator who left the Democratic Party and became an Independent, is a good friend of Thune’s. She told me that he had stayed “to protect the institution—and by ‘the institution’ I mean the American system of governance. He believes in the fundamental principles our Founding Fathers laid out. You know, the separation of powers.” (A person close to Thune told me that the senator and his wife “ultimately concluded that he had more to give and wanted to leave it all on the field.”)

In 2024, when Thune announced a bid to succeed McConnell as leader, Trump’s hostility posed the biggest obstacle. The favored MAGA candidate was Rick Scott, of Florida, who had previously tried to oust McConnell. Such contests have always been settled privately among senators, out of shared pride in the institution’s independence, but Scott seemed to enlist MAGA celebrities to undermine Thune. He went on the podcast of the far-right provocateur Laura Loomer, and afterward she slammed Thune on social media as “a snake” who wanted to “KNEECAP Trump’s second term.” Musk called Thune the Democrats’ favored candidate; Tucker Carlson accused him of plotting “a coup” against Trump’s agenda.

Thune’s secret weapon was a floating dinner party. For years, almost every week that the Senate was in session, he gathered a rotating group of six to twelve fellow-senators for a jovial dinner at a restaurant near the Capitol (Bistro Cacao, La Loma). Thune mostly hung back and listened as his colleagues drank wine and traded gossip, jokes, and updates about their families. The dinners stood out as a rare recurring opportunity for building camaraderie among lawmakers who sometimes had little in common. Senator Markwayne Mullin, of Oklahoma, a former mixed-martial-arts fighter who dropped out of college to take over his father’s plumbing business, told me that at these dinners he’d made a surprising discovery about Cruz, an Ivy League-educated lawyer known for ideological grandstanding. “Ted Cruz is the funniest guy in Congress,” Mullin said. “If he fails at the Senate, he’s got a life as a comedian.” Sinema and Collins were frequent guests, as was Steve Daines, a Montana senator who was often mentioned as a potential dark-horse challenger to Thune in the race for Party leader. Manchin told me that Thune always graciously charged the tab to his political-action committee—“I jumped him one time and got to pay before he could grab it”—and that “those dinners became his political base.” Manchin admired Thune so much that he offered to caucus with the G.O.P. if Thune needed an extra vote to become the Republican leader.

Several of these dinner companions—notably Mullin, Graham, Daines, and Senator Kevin Cramer, of North Dakota—were also close to Trump. All four told me that they had undertaken a quiet campaign to help Thune win Trump over. Graham said that their message about Thune was “He wants you to be successful, and everybody likes him.”

In the run-up to the 2024 Presidential primaries, Thune voiced his hope for “other options” besides Trump; he eventually endorsed his fellow-senator Tim Scott, of South Carolina. But behind the scenes Thune was selling himself to the former President, too. Mullin told me that he helped “coördinate the very first phone call,” and that Thune “took it from there.” After that, Mullin said, “one of them would call me and say, ‘Hey, I just got off the phone with your buddy,’ and you saw a relationship develop.” He argued that it testified to the character of both men “that they could bury it that quick.” Thune endorsed Trump in February, 2024, visited him at Mar-a-Lago the next month, and returned again in September.

Trump himself never publicly backed any candidate. But by November Mullin was discreetly suggesting that Trump was for Thune. Mullin told me, “If John Thune had asked Trump to endorse him, I am confident he would have.”

In the end, Graham said, it was Thune’s appearance that brought Trump around. Graham insisted to me several times that “Trump likes the look—the look matters a lot to Trump. Just look at the Cabinet.”

Trump’s second Inauguration carried echoes of January 6th. maga pilgrims again converged on Washington. Trump moved his swearing-in ceremony indoors, owing to inclement weather, and the next day Republican lawmakers gave constituents tours of the Capitol. Roving bands of Trump superfans filled the halls. In their “Stop the Steal” regalia, many could have passed for January 6th rioters; I saw T-shirts emblazoned with mottoes such as “When tyranny becomes law, rebellion becomes duty—1776.” Stewart Rhodes, the founder of the Oath Keepers, showed up again, too. He was sprung from prison on Inauguration Day, when Trump pardoned everyone convicted of crimes connected to the attack. The following day, at a Dunkin’ beneath the Capitol complex, Rhodes held forth to astonished journalists about the righteousness of the assault.

I joined the Capitol press corps chasing Republican senators in pursuit of their honest reactions to the pardons. The mob, after all, had targeted them. Collins, pausing before she disappeared into an elevator, called it “a terrible week for our justice system.” And Senator Thom Tillis, of North Carolina, said that granting impunity for the violence had made the Capitol “less safe.” Nearly all the others dodged the question.

Evoking the January 6th riot was in some ways a fitting start to Trump’s second term. He had already begun a sustained assault on the power of the legislative branch. On December 17th, Elon Musk had débuted the Department of Government Efficiency, which at the time consisted only of a month-old social-media account. Thune, Johnson, and their Democratic counterparts had just worked out yet another continuing resolution to keep the government’s lights on, and they’d inserted thirty billion dollars in funding for disaster recovery. Republican aides in both chambers told me that the Trump transition team had signed off on it all. But Musk used his new account to spread misinformation about the deal, including false claims that it would give lawmakers a big pay raise and fund a bioweapons lab. By the afternoon, he’d threatened to back primary challengers against any Republican who voted for the resolution. “The waste and corruption will never stop,” he declared, unless “@DOGE ends the careers of deceitful, pork-barrel politicians.”

Trump jumped on Musk’s bandwagon. Then, without consulting either Thune or Johnson, he declared that any continuing resolution must also raise the limit on federal borrowing—to save him the unpleasantness of handling that chore himself when the debt reached its cap. This was an impossible demand. Many House Republicans refuse on principle to vote for a debt-limit adjustment; securing one requires weeks of negotiations and Democratic coöperation in both chambers. Still, with Musk and Trump attacking the agreed-upon deal, House Republicans voted it down.

Neither Thune nor Johnson dared complain. Johnson, who is widely perceived to owe his Speakership to Trump’s endorsement—the Speaker ballots are public—even pledged to follow Trump’s swerve. Trump humiliated him nonetheless, declining for weeks to assert confidence that Johnson would remain Speaker. “We’ll see,” Trump told journalists.

Thune is less dependent on his favor, and Trump has opted to flatter him. At a January meeting with Senate Republicans, Trump praised Thune as “very elegant,” senators present told me. Trump invited Thune to sit with him and Johnson at the Army–Navy football game, and named Thune’s son-in-law, Luke Lindberg, to a top Agriculture Department post. By March, Trump was calling the Majority Leader by a fond nickname: Big John.

Yet Trump has tested Thune, too. In the final stage of the Senate’s Republican-leadership race, Trump insisted that the contenders agree to support recess appointments; by installing nominees with Congress out of session, he could bypass the Senate’s constitutional authority to “advise and consent.” Then Trump forced Senate Republicans into confirmation votes so politically painful that they couldn’t hide their discomfort. Questioning Tulsi Gabbard about her appointment as the director of National Intelligence, Republican senators begged her to agree with them that Edward Snowden was a traitor for leaking sensitive documents and then fleeing to Moscow. During hearings on Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.,’s nomination to be the Secretary of Health and Human Services, Senator Bill Cassidy, a Louisiana physician, prodded him to repudiate his baseless fear-mongering about vaccines: “Will you reassure mothers, unequivocally and without qualification, that the measles and hepatitis-B vaccines do not cause autism?” Both nominees refused to comply. Except for McConnell, every Republican senator acceded to Trump’s wishes anyway.

Trump’s nominee for the Office of Management and Budget, Russell Vought, challenged the Senate even more fundamentally: Vought insisted that Congress did not have exclusive control over federal spending. In 1974, after President Richard Nixon refused to spend money as directed by appropriations laws, Congress passed the Impoundment Control Act to clarify that no President can unilaterally withhold such funds. The Supreme Court confirmed the next year that the Constitution forbids it, too. Yet Vought testified that Trump had actually campaigned on the idea that the Impoundment Control Act itself was unconstitutional. Trump and Vought were asking senators to surrender some of their most crucial power.

By the time Vought’s nomination came up for a vote, on February 6th, Trump had openly defied spending statutes by issuing an executive order that froze trillions of dollars in federal grants and loans. He’d summarily fired seventeen internal agency watchdogs, ignoring legislation that barred such terminations without cause and without notifying Congress thirty days in advance. And doge had grown into a shadowy team furiously slashing congressionally authorized programs and civil-service jobs, starting with Musk’s announcement, on social media, that he’d put the United States Agency for International Development through “the wood chipper.” Despite all this, every Republican voted for Vought’s confirmation.

Trump, bucking his party’s traditional commitment to free trade, has used emergency declarations to impose sweeping tariffs on Mexico, Canada, and China. He has repeatedly threatened levies and then deferred them, seemingly on impulse, sometimes after an ingratiating phone call from a C.E.O. or a foreign leader. Even more dramatic, on February 28th, Trump abruptly upended congressionally mandated support for Ukraine. In a televised meeting, he upbraided President Volodymyr Zelensky for insisting that only U.S. security guarantees would stop future Russian aggression. That morning, three Republicans had met with Zelensky, in a show of solidarity. After Trump’s outburst, the Republican senator Roger Wicker, of Mississippi, who chairs the Armed Services Committee, deleted a social-media post celebrating his meeting with Zelensky.

Thune, faced with this blitz, has so far ducked open conflict with Trump. According to Mullin and others, Thune privately explained to the President that recess appointments were too impractical to pursue except as a last resort: the move requires majorities in both chambers to vote to adjourn simultaneously, and forces the appointees to work without pay and benefits, for up to two years. Mullin said, “I am sure the President did not understand that, because I did not understand it, either.” But “one person in particular had a very strong conversation with the President about it, and that was Leader Thune—and when was the last time you’ve heard the President talk about it?” In public, however, Thune pledged allegiance to the idea that “all options” were “on the table” to get Trump’s picks confirmed, “including recess appointments.”

When Trump and Musk blew up the December spending deal, Thune feigned normalcy. At midnight on a Friday, minutes after the government had technically run out of money, the Senate passed what amounted to the original deal, but broken into pieces to hide the resemblance. “It is what it is,” Thune said to reporters, shrugging off the needless chaos.

After Trump’s pardons for the January 6th attackers, Thune, speaking to reporters, grappled audibly with his instinct for honesty. “I think that he needs to—I mean, as I’ve said, obviously—look at these things on a case-by-case basis,” he stammered, repudiating the indiscriminate nature of the pardons. But in his next sentence he said that he was focussed on “the future, not the past.”

Thune has protected vulnerable Republican senators from having to cast potentially embarrassing confirmation votes, but only to the extent that he could avoid crossing Trump. Mullin told me that Thune instructed Republicans to allow Collins the flexibility to vote no on some nominees, including Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth—a former Fox News host dogged by allegations of heavy drinking, sexual assault, and financial mismanagement. (He denies the drinking and the assault.) According to Mullin, Thune reminded his Republican colleagues that Collins, who’s up for reëlection next year in Maine, “is probably the only Republican who can get elected to a statewide Senate seat there.”

Yet Thune showed less consideration for Tillis, who is seeking reëlection in North Carolina, where he faces a credible Democratic opponent and may also confront a primary challenge—perhaps from Lara Trump, the President’s daughter-in-law. The night before the vote, Tillis informed Thune of his plan to oppose Hegseth. He would have been the fourth Republican to vote against the nomination, thus dooming it. Thune refused to shield Tillis from Trump, forcing him to tell the President personally. That enabled Trump to pressure Tillis into a yes vote, partly by threatening to back a primary opponent. Hegseth squeaked through. (Both the Times and the Wall Street Journal reported Thune’s role; with the senator under pressure from the right to rush confirmations, his staff had incentive to confirm the stories.)

When Trump is outlandish, Thune often recasts the President’s words and deeds in benign terms. At a luncheon after Trump’s Inaugural Address about “America’s decline” and “horrible betrayal,” Thune toasted him for recapturing the “optimism” of President Reagan. Thune has also tried to describe Trump’s arm-twisting of Zelensky in nobler language. After the President called Zelensky “a dictator without elections” and bizarrely faulted Ukraine for Russia’s invasion, Thune told reporters that Trump merely wanted “a peaceful conclusion to the war,” andso did Ukraine. But the Oval Office spat with Zelensky was harder to euphemize. “Last week was a missed opportunity,” he told reporters, disappearing into his office without saying who had missed it, Trump or Zelensky.

When we met in mid-March, Thune told me that he had not talked much to Trump about Ukraine, though the President had conveyed in general terms “what he is trying to achieve there.” Thune said, “I think he’s now, at least, he’s starting to . . .” He paused. “There’s more pressure being applied with the Russians.” Thune noted that, in public statements, he’s always been clear about “who is at fault” in the region, and that the U.S. commitment to NATO must remain “iron-clad.”

Thune has acknowledged, diplomatically, that he sees tariffs “through a slightly different lens” than the President does. But he prefers not to talk about Trump’s forecasts that across-the-board tariffs will be a major long-term source of revenue, potentially to be collected by a new External Revenue Service. Thune has focussed on White House statements suggesting that the levies on Canada and Mexico are intended only to push those countries to crack down on the flow of fentanyl. In television interviews, Thune confidently portrayed the new levies as “targeted,” “a means to an end,” and for “a specific purpose” only.

When I pressed Thune about Trump’s tariffs one day as he was walking through the Capitol, he was less sanguine. “I think they’re—hopefully—temporary,” he said. He crossed the anteroom of his office suite while I followed up with a question about whether he or the Senate could have any say in the matter. Thune stopped to think before turning back to respond that there was “a lot of executive-branch authority when it comes to tariffs.” He sounded almost mournful.

Despite Trump’s systematic disregard for Congress’s authority, many Republican senators, at least publicly, have brushed off worries about the separation of powers. “Who is saying that?” Mullin asked, asserting that only Democrats had expressed concerns. In another conversation, he insisted that DOGE was eliminating only “fraud and abuse.” When I asked if he thought that the entirety of U.S.A.I.D. was fraudulent, he shot back, “Have you seen it?”

Thune, in contrast, has tried to sound as though he is backing the President while still affirming fidelity to the Constitution. In a floor speech on February 6th, he took up the theme of “double standards.” He accused the Democrats, accurately, of ignoring Biden’s deviations from congressional spending statutes, such as in his failed attempt to forgive student loans, or his impractical requirement that programs for expanding rural broadband infrastructure prioritize union labor. Yet Thune was also clear that he agreed with Democrats on the fundamental issue. Congress had already “bequeathed and given up way too much power to the executive branch,” he declared, and he was “not deaf” to complaints about the Trump Administration.

Thune’s threading of the needle has been most effortful when it comes to the furious cuts to congressionally mandated programs. He has charitably called Musk’s DOGE work a “careful scrub” of federal spending and “not unusual” for a new Administration. On February 11th, as Musk ratcheted up his rampage, Thune told reporters that DOGE cuts were just part of “the natural give-and-take” between the executive and legislative branches. The courts “have a way of mediating or refereeing” such disputes, he said.

By early March, that give-and-take seemed to enter a critical stage. On the fifth, the Supreme Court preliminarily upheld a lower court’s ruling blocking Trump’s freeze on two billion dollars in congressionally appropriated foreign aid. The next day, a federal judge in Rhode Island found that the White House had “put itself above Congress” in ignoring a court order compelling the release of billions of dollars in other appropriations. On the day of the Supreme Court’s decision, I ran into Collins, who chairs the Senate Appropriations Committee, as she was leaving an Ash Wednesday observance in the Senate chapel. She’d been texting with Musk, and she told me that “his brilliance does not extend to understanding how government works, what our laws are, what the separation of powers means.” Congress, she said, would reclaim its authority in the spending bills for the next fiscal year, which begins in October, “with much more precise and careful legislating.” She expressed confidence that Thune would protect the Senate’s authority, though she acknowledged that he faced “an extraordinarily difficult balancing act.”

Senator Lisa Murkowski, of Alaska, chairs the Appropriations Subcommittee for the Interior. She told me that she’d recently sent a letter to the heads of the agencies she oversees reminding them that they cannot make major changes to staffing or facilities without notifying congressional appropriators well in advance. She said that Congress should “look inward” at its failure in recent decades to make a more vigorous defense of its powers: “It’s not all about taking potshots at Trump or DOGE or Elon Musk. It’s about the Senate saying, ‘No, actually, we have a role here when it comes to determining the direction of spending.’ ” But, she continued, the Trump White House “wants to do everybody’s job, and if they are rolling over or ignoring the legislative branch we should not allow that to stand.” Murkowski said that Thune deserved “some latitude” as he quietly sought ways to protect the separation of powers. With a smile, she said she was sure that he’d get the job done, “with a little help from his team.”

Musk himself showed up at the Capitol that afternoon for a lunch with Senate Republicans. Wearing his customary “Tech Support” T-shirt under a sport coat, he smirked and raised his eyebrows at a waiting crowd of journalists. Every Republican had stood to applaud him the previous night, during Trump’s address to a joint session of Congress. But several senators told me and other journalists that, in private, Musk had faced polite but firm complaints about his failure to notify lawmakers before making vast cuts in congressionally authorized spending, often alarming their constituents. Graham said that it had been “political malpractice not to consult Congress.” According to the senators, Musk had sought to assuage them by announcing his cellphone number, to facilitate better communication. Some noted, with satisfaction, that he appeared to have read the Supreme Court opinion issued that morning. And Graham told me and other reporters that Musk had pumped his fist in a dance of joy when senators described a rarely used legislative procedure that might retroactively legalize some DOGE cuts. The procedure, known as rescission, allows an Administration to make cuts if it submits a list to Congress in advance and majorities in both chambers approve them.

All the Republican senators have been eager to express their support for the idea of DOGE. But several left the Musk meeting gushing to reporters about the rescission proposal, clearly relieved that there might be a fix for the glaring problem that DOGE posed to the separation of powers. A rescission process would also surely force the Trump Administration to restore cuts so drastic or arbitrary that they couldn’t pass Congress. Mike Rounds, an old friend of Thune’s and South Dakota’s junior senator, told me, “They are going to break some things, and when that happens we want to repair them as quickly as possible.” Still, several senators weren’t sure that Musk now understood that only Congress could control federal spending. Rounds all but winked at me when he said that that part of the discussion was “still ongoing.”

Thune, pressed about the rescission approach as he headed toward the Senate floor, sounded far from convinced. “We’ll see—obviously, a rescission package needs to be submitted by the White House,” he said with a frown, tacitly questioning whether Trump and Musk would agree to such oversight.

When he was on his way back to his office, I pursued him again. Wasn’t it backward to slash spending and then ask Congress to legalize it? Thune started to explain the standard rescission process—the way it might have been done in, say, the Reagan or the Bush years. “It’s a tool that is available to the Administration,” he said. “If they identify savings within different agencies and departments that are real and they want us to act on them . . . ”

But Musk and Trump were not just proposing future savings, I pointed out. They were eliminating programs and firing thousands of federal employees before asking for the consent of Congress. “Well, that’s”—a long pause—“a different issue.” He grinned, pointed a finger at me, and disappeared into a doorway, as though poking fun at his own evasiveness.

Rounds told me that Thune’s strategy was to hold the Republicans together in order to preserve “the relevance of the United States Senate.” Unity would give the senators a better chance “to have a say when it comes to modifications” of the President’s actions—presumably through budget and spending bills later this year. Although Republicans wanted to “reduce the size of the executive branch,” Rounds added, the senators “have to do our due diligence.” Like Thune, Rounds said that he looked forward to courts ruling on Trump’s expansive assertions of executive power. He told me that “none of us” could support unchecked executive authority, and that Trump was now “creating an atmosphere” that would force the courts to clarify the separation of powers, possibly bolstering the authority of Congress over rule-making agencies. “This will bring it to a head,” he predicted.

Yet the White House had already started raising questions about how binding it considered court rulings. In a post on social media in February, Trump declared, “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law.” Vice-President J. D. Vance, a lawyer who has mused in the past about defying the Supreme Court, wrote in a post of his own that “judges aren’t allowed to control the executive’s legitimate power.”

At a press conference, Thune went out of his way to rebut Vance directly. “Do I believe that the courts have a very, very valid role and need to be listened to and heard in that process?,” he said. “The answer is yes.” But it is unlikely to be so simple. So far, the Administration appears intent on insisting that it does follow court rulings while nonetheless contesting decisions in higher courts, shifting to new legal rationales, finding work-arounds, dragging its feet, and, arguably, inventing pretexts for noncompliance. (The deportation flights were over international waters by the time the judge ordered the Administration to turn them around!) In the meantime, though, some of DOGE’s demolition may come to seem irreversible. Foreign-aid workers are returning home. Fired federal employees are taking other jobs. New tenants may soon occupy federal office space. Ron Bonjean, a strategist who has worked as a senior adviser to Republican leaders in the House and the Senate, told me that the Trump Administration would surely rejoice if just a small part of its extra-legislative cuts survived judicial scrutiny. Shrinking the government by even a quarter of what Trump has already done in a few weeks would be “insanely victorious” for any other Republican Administration. Trump might even relish the chance to spar with the courts when he loses. Bonjean told me that Trump wants “headlines about ‘Look how much money I am trying to save.’ ”

That leaves Republican senators caught between their desire to preserve their own authority and the political imperative to stay on Trump’s good side. Bonjean told me, “None of the senators like seeing their power usurped by the executive branch, but they know they are in a tough spot politically.”

In truth, much of Trump and Musk’s hatchet work—wiping out U.S.A.I.D.; laying off tens of thousands of employees across Veterans Affairs, the National Institutes of Health, the Federal Aviation Administration, Health and Human Services, and the Department of Education; slashing medical and scientific research—is highly unlikely to win a majority vote as a rescission package, even in a Senate with fifty-three Republicans. Carefully targeted bills to claw back less than three billion dollars each failed to pass the Senate under George W. Bush and the first Trump Administration, despite Republican majorities. The federal bureaucracy may be inefficient, but each program tends to have vocal supporters—whether they’re meat-packers, drug manufacturers, or pediatricians.

Whispers of discontent from Republican senators are not hard to detect. Some murmur that “soft power,” such as foreign aid, is a much cheaper way to buy influence than military operations, or that cutting fifteen per cent of the Department of Veterans Affairs in a single blow must surely jeopardize crucial services. A few conservatives have carefully raised their voices. Senator Jerry Moran, the Kansas Republican who chairs the Veterans’ Affairs Committee, has introduced a bill to roll back cuts to that department; he wants the government to keep paying U.S. farmers to send food abroad, too. Senator Katie Britt, of Alabama, has called for the restoration of research funding in Birmingham. The chairs of the House and Senate Armed Services Committees have warned the Administration that it cannot change the U.S. role in NATO without congressional approval.

On March 27th, Collins joined the top Democrat on the Senate Appropriations panel in a public letter chastising the White House over news reports that it planned to ignore parts of the recent continuing resolution. “It is incumbent on all of us to follow the law as it is written—not as we would like it to be,” they wrote, adding that the President “does not have the ability to pick and choose” from congressionally mandated spending. Longtime Senate staffers told me that more pushback is likely to happen out of the view of the President or the public, in phone calls to Cabinet secretaries from congressional leaders and committee chairs.

Thune, who was surely informed in advance of the appropriators’ letter, has studiously avoided opining on specific DOGE cuts. He may well share some of his colleagues’ concerns. It’s hard to imagine the senior senator from South Dakota being enthusiastic about reducing agricultural purchases, National Parks personnel, or veterans’ services. But a Thune staffer told me that the senator would likely be happy to discuss one set of cuts: those made to the Department of Education. Like Reagan, Thune has long advocated for more local control.

By early March, in the weeks before the latest continuing resolution, the White House quietly asked Republican congressional leaders to insert provisions that would retroactively legitimate DOGE cuts, such as the erasure of U.S.A.I.D. Johnson, the House Speaker, initially sounded supportive, telling reporters that “it would not make sense” to fund “an agency that doesn’t exist.” But, even if every Republican in both chambers had consented, this backdoor approach would have given Senate Democrats clear justification for using the filibuster to block the resolution and shut down the government. Johnson and Thune privately rebuffed the White House. And when Schumer, the Democratic leader, voted to keep the government running, Thune revelled in the backlash from the left. At a press conference, he called it “something of a civil war among the Democrats.”

For now, any public attempt by Thune to check Trump would likely arouse even greater anger from the Republican base. Breaking with the President could cost Thune his leadership job. But this could change in a matter of months, if Trump’s popularity falters. Bonjean, the strategist, said that, if Republican senators hear “droves of MAGA voters calling to say, ‘I voted for Donald Trump, but we are feeling too much pain from these tariffs and cutbacks,’ ” that’s when Thune’s colleagues may tell him, “We need some air cover.”

Many Democrats outside the Senate are convinced that Thune and the Republicans will never say no to Trump. Jim Manley, a former senior adviser to the Senate’s Democratic leader Harry Reid, told me, “They’ve made their bed.” Senator Raphael Warnock, the Georgia Democrat, recently told me and other reporters that the Republicans “are being rolled” and “making themselves increasingly irrelevant.” Others argue that Thune’s strategy resembles McConnell’s miscalculated acquittal vote at Trump’s impeachment: a gamble that the courts and the electorate will hold Trump to account.

Still, several Democratic senators told me that they were reluctant to express impatience with Thune, because they still hope that he will defend the separation of powers. A Democratic senator close to Thune cited his retort to Vance’s post about judges as an encouraging sign that he will “stand up for the rule of law.” Senator Chris Coons, a Delaware Democrat and another friend of Thune’s, told me, “I’m pretty sure he understands just how dangerously close we are coming to giving away the Senate.” He added, “On that, history will judge all of us.”

When we met in Thune’s office, I asked if he’d ever spoken to Trump about the separation of powers. He replied that he’d “drawn lines in the sand about places we’re not going to go, one of which is the filibuster.” Thune gave DOGE another dignified gloss, calling it an “analysis of government spending” and a drive “to modernize a lot of our ways of doing things.” But he also told me that he’d made it clear to the White House that DOGE cannot cut government on its own (as Musk appears to have done repeatedly). “Hiring and firing decisions,” Thune emphasized, should be made only by Senate-confirmed department heads “who understand the mission of that department or agency, and which employees and which programs and functions are critical.” He added, “Some cuts they are going to need from Congress—I mean, they can’t abolish the Department of Education. It would take Congress to do that.” (A week later, Trump issued an executive order to gut the department while he seeks congressional approval to do away with it officially.)

I asked again if Thune had told the White House about such limits. “Well . . . ” he said, with a deep sigh. “I had a fairly lengthy conversation a few weeks ago,” as Congress was deciding on the continuing resolution. “I’ve had those conversations with the President. He understands that there are things that we have to do.” Thune said that he’d talked to some of the newly confirmed Cabinet secretaries, and was reassured to see that they were “pulling back” on “some of those things that DOGE got out there and did early.” All the secretaries, at least, understood that “Congress has to vote” on proposed major cuts or shutdowns.

In another rosy depiction of Trump’s moves, Thune downplayed many of the cuts as “a lot of Biden stuff they are trying to clear out.” In truth, much of the federal spending that Musk and Trump have attacked was in place long before Biden. But, echoing Collins, Thune said that he expected the White House to adhere fully to the spending legislation that Congress would pass for the next fiscal year, in part because the Trump Administration would have a chance to provide “input.” He argued that the new Administration would follow protocol “as their agenda and priorities start being reflected in some of these appropriations bills.” Such legislation, of course, will take even more than unanimous Republican support. It will require the sixty votes needed to overcome a filibuster—Thune’s line in the sand—severely limiting how many DOGE cutbacks survive in law.

By late March, about two weeks after we talked in Thune’s office, Trump was escalating his efforts to circumvent Congress altogether. More than fifty district-court rulings had halted Trump initiatives, finding them probably illegal. After drawing rebukes from multiple judges for failing to comply with their orders, Trump retaliated by calling for their impeachment, arguing that a mere district court should not constrain a President. One day, I stopped Thune in the hall and asked if he believed that the White House had “listened to” the courts, as he had said that it must.

Dodging conflict again, Thune said that the answer was yes; the Administration was “using the appeals process,” which was “typically how something like this would get handled.” When I noted that, until Trump, Presidents have typically complied with injunctions while pursuing appeals, Thune sought to defer judgment until the Supreme Court itself had weighed in more fully. Whether a President must follow a district-court order, Thune said, “that’s going to be the question.” He continued, “I assume these appeals are going to have to happen very quickly,” and that the Supreme Court rulings “will be final.”

Manchin, now watching from the sidelines, urged patience with such seeming evasions. “John plays a long poker hand,” he told me. “It might seem out of character right now—going along with some things that maybe he normally wouldn’t—but when push comes to shove, and the survival of the separation of powers and basic independence of the legislature is on the line, when someone’s got to pull the trigger, John has the ability, the character, and the strength to do it.”

After the courts declare it illegal for Trump to rule by fiat, and after the Democrats thwart him in Congress, would come Thune’s moment of truth, Manchin predicted. Would the Majority Leader keep his promise to preserve the filibuster? Or would he capitulate to Trump? “If John caves to that,” Manchin said, “then I will be extremely disappointed in my buddy.”

14 notes · View notes

unicomuk · 2 years ago

Text

Best Agile Conferences in UK | Unicom Seminars Ltd.

Discover the forefront of agile methodologies at Unicom Seminars Limited, your premier destination for top-tier agile conferences in the United Kingdom. As industry leaders in organizing high-impact events, we curate a dynamic platform where professionals converge to explore the latest trends, best practices, and innovations in agile development. Our conferences foster networking opportunities, offering a unique space for knowledge exchange among thought leaders, practitioners, and enthusiasts.

#Agile Conferences in UK #UK Agile Conferences

0 notes

wangxianficfinder · 2 years ago

Text

In the mood for...

~*~

1. Itmf best brother nmj/nmj is everyone’s da ge.

🧡 Where's Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

~*~

2. I randomly came across this video recently of the Japanese Rabbit Hopping Assc. today, and I immediately felt compelled to ask if anyone has written (or possibly is inspired to write) 'actually very serious rabbit agility racer Lan Wangji'

Video link if anyone wants it lol:

youtube

Tumblr story by @/mondengel2 I took it as a prompt

~*~

3. Hii!! I am really looking for fics with angst with happy ending (happy ending for wangxian mostly) coupled with Jiang Yanli betraying Wei Ying if there are any? Thanks!! @yilinglaobunny

~*~

4. Hiya!!! I've got an IIMF request: fic where Wen Yuan is actually a blood heir of the Wen and that somehow factors into the story importantly (like, he's Wen Rouhan's grandson, has special Wen powers, etc). Thanks for all the hard you you all do! @kimboo-york

sami's 'Dream of Youth' and 'Hand in Hand Together' has A'Yuan as Wen Xu's bio son. It's a minor plot point though.

The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 85k, WangXian, YZY/TLJ, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Fix-It, Family, Not Lan Sect Friendly, Bad Dads, good dads, JFM's A+ parenting, Qingheng-Jun's F- Existence, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Canonical Character Death)

Hand in Hand Together (All Your Life) by sami (T, 41k, WZL/JC, WangXian, Queerplatonic relationship, Implied future MingLi, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Slow Burn)

When Flowers Spring from Killing Things by windsweptice (B0redaf) (Not rated, 100k, wangxian, Wen WWX, Demonic Cultivation, WWX Has No Golden Core, he's got a resentful one instead, Yīn Iron, WRH pov, LWJ pov, WWX pov, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Sentient Burial Mounds, XY Is A Little Shit, WQ pov, Protective WWX, Protective WQ, Cinnamon Roll WN, Protective WN, LXC pov, BAMF WWX, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WN, BAMF WQ, Good Person WX, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Weddings) might not be everyone's cup of tea cause he's literally wen ruohan's son

~*~

5. Hello! ITMF a fic where WWX survived the siege at Burial Mounds and remembers that LWJ saved him that night at Nightless City. Then WWX finds out about the punishment LWJ had to go through because of that. And WWX takes LWJ to Burial Mounds to mend his scars and they end up together.

I saw a fanart of wangxian with Yilling Patriarch!WWX treating LWJ's scars and that was all I could think about.

❤️ A Myriad of Blossoms by Itszero (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, YLLZ WWX, Hurt LWJ, Cruel wwx, he's cruel until he's not, Protective WWX, Caring WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Dark WWX) pls pls read this because based on ur request this is amazing (pls don't hate wwx in the beginning)

~*~

6. Hello! I'm in the mood for fics where wwx is experiencing some kind of delusion or psychosis and lwj (or other characters) try to help him through it. I don't mind wether it's canon universe with the demonic cultivation being the cause, a curse or even modern au.

Thanks!

From Underneath by steppjes (M, 15k, wangxian, Character Death, Major Character Injury, Modern, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, Demons, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Grief/Mourning, Blood and Injury, Depression, Hospitals, Mutual Pining, The Troubles of Baby Acquisition, Very on brand self hate from wwx, he's going through a lot okay)

Mud on Your Feet by AvoOwO (Not Rated, 59k, WangXian, Nightmares, Sentient Burial Mounds, Possession, Panic Attacks, Night Terrors, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Sibling JC, Hurt WWX, Soft WangXian, Blood and Injury, Hallucinations, Delusions, JC Loves WWX, Insomnia, Good Sibling WWX, Sleepwalking, Sleeptalking, Protective JC, POV LWJ, PTSD, Post-Canon, YLLZ WWX, resentful energy, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Soft JC, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels)

let me sing to you by greybird_crookedbranch (T, 61k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, adorable Juniors, Minor Original Character(s)for plot purposes, Minor Violence, Demonic Cultivation, resentful energy, Trauma, Guilt, Protectiveness, BAMF WWX, Hurt wwx, Protective WWX, Protective LWJ, Baby Lans, WWX loving and being loved by tiny Lan babies, LWJ being utterly whipped for WWX, Mental Instability, Possession, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV LWJ, a tasteful seasoning of Yunmeng Bros Reconcilliation, CQL canon except LWJ is not chief cultivator, Nightmares)

out in the garden, there's things you hid away by saltyfeathers (E, 121k, WangXian, Possession, Animal Death, mass death event, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt(s), lotta hurt lotta comfort, wwx-centric, unfortunately there's also a bodily fluids warning, just like a lot of bodily fluids, there is sex and it is all in the last chapter, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post canon)

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, background 3zun, Background Yi City trio, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy)

~*~

7. Helloooo mods! It’s been a while! 💜 for the next itmf can i get some completed fics that explores wen ning in a romantic way? Like fluff and falling in love? Aside from JC , i don’t mind who he’s shipped with.

Thank you! 😊 @jikcf

the height of summer by la_dissonance (G, 8k, WN/LWJ/WWX, Getting Together, Romance, Accidental Courtship, On purpose courtship, Polyamory, Fluff, a small amount of pining, Love Confessions, WN/Happiness forever otp, Gift Giving, Secret Admirer)

~*~

8. Can you please find a au marvel or Wwx as Wanda or black widow ! Thank you 😊 @brighterthanmagicalfluff

~*~

9. Ok guys, I'm in the mood for your favorite Good Uncle LQR fics. I don't care for any other details besides that, please & thank you

小兔子 | Little Bunny by dragongirlG (T, 6k, LQR & LWJ, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LSZ & LQR, minor wangxian, POV LQR, love language: acts of service, Caring LQR, Character Study, Canon Universe, References to Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Comatose QHJ, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Podfic Available, Good Uncle LQR)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 742k, WangXian, WIP, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Sexual Tension, Supportive LQR, Light Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, WWX learns about his parents, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, LWJ is confused, Then he is 100 percent on board, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Bisexual WWX, Dual Cultivation, Slow Burn, Fix-It of Sorts, Not JFM friendly, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Blood and Gore, Supportive LXC, Protective LXC, Canon Divergence, Inventor WWX, Eventual Smut, Possessive LWJ, Genius WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Scheming NHS, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Minor Character Death, NHS gets himself a beard (not the facial kind), POV WWX, Fluff and Smut, Burning of the Cloud Recesses)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

Skate Happy by cinder1013 (E, 12k, wangxian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Skate disco waiter outfits, booty shorts, Inappropriate Marriage Proposal, secret wedding plans, Good Uncle LQR, Good Friend JGY, not entirely evil XY, wwx has low self-esteem, but it works out in the end, They buy a farm, wwx wears what he likes, Panties, Anal Sex, A+ parenting all around)

🔒 Baby, Beard and Birds by mondengel (G, <1k, LQR & LWJ, Fluff, Babyfic, Family)

🔒 An old kettle, a tiny teacup, and a new pot. by mondengel (G, 2k, LQR & LWJ)

Between the rotten apples lies a fresh grave by hamlets_ghost (T, 12k, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Canonical Character Death, (Madam Lan), child LXC, Child LWJ, Child Neglect, implied kidnapping, (madam lan), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, (also madam lan), this is not a happy fic so mind the tags please, passive suicidal thoughts (but not really?), Angst with a Happy Ending, non-linear timeline, semi-explicit discribtion of a corpse (chapter 3), Slightly hinted 3zun)

When we were small by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 7k, LXC & LQR & LWJ, Implied WangXian, Modern AU, Kid Fic, Good Uncle LQR, Neurodivergent LWJ, Baby LWJ, Baby WWX, Parenthood, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV LQR, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort)

Discordant Rhapsody by nirejseki (T, 49k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, JC & WWX, WQ & WWX & WN, LWJ & LQR & LXC, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, trauma, politics, protective LQR, protective LWJ, protective WWX, LQR centric, whump, angst)

through the eyes of elders series by Fleetling (T, 13k, LXC & LWJ, LXC & LQR, wangxian, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, CQL Canon Compliant, LQR's perspective on wangxian, mainly him being frustrated at wwx wasting his talents and then realising that oh no that backfired wangji's in love, the homeoroticness of sword fights, wangxian DOES NOT get together there's just ust and longing glances like in canon, LQR isn't bad he just wants the best for his nephew, LQR pov, LQR is a good uncle, LXC recovering from the whole JGY thing is a major part, Wingman LXC, good brothers!!!)

Good Guy Lan Qiren series by thunderwear (T, 28k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Golden Core Reveal, LWJ's POV, Fluff, Everyone Lives AU, LQR finds out about WWX's core, wwx and lqr are friends?? In My Fic? its more likely than you think, lwj in the bg like whats happening?, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining)

The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)

~*~

10. OMG I REALLY WANT TO READ REVERSE ROLES LZ AND WWX (ex: cold WWX and troublemaker LZ, Top WWX and Bot LZ) IDK 😭 @naoenowa

~*~

11. hi! I'd like to make an itmf req for canon era fics that feature a dark(ish) gusu lan/lan zhan, such as "hoards and treasures" by apathyinreverie which i loved. for instance, fics where the gusu lan interpret their rules with a darker lens, and where they might turn to manipulation/deceit to achieve what they consider right.

i know about "A Matter of Time", which is on my read list! but I'm also esp interested in seeing the dark gusu lan/lan zhan trope explored without time-travel elements. thank you very much! @potatokunst

~*~

12. Hola :) , For the next In the mood for, I'm really, really interested in Lan Sizhui fics centric, specially related to Gusu Lan or his relationship with Clan Lan.

you are my chosen family by jinyinhua (T, 14k, LSZ & LJY, wangxian, LJY & LSZ & LWJ & WWX, 5+1 Things, Good Kid LJY, Good Kid LSZ, Blood and Injury, Night Hunts, Drinking, Age Regression/De-Aging, Married Wangxian, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics)

Revolution by mrcformoso (T, 8k, WangXian, ZhuiYi, Light Angst, Happy Ending, POV LSZ, Found Family, Toxic Elders, Fatherhood, Growing Up, The Lan Juniors, LWJ Adopts LSZ, WWX is LSZ's Parent, LSZ is a polite menace, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Good Uncle WN) You might need to read the other stories in the series but if you just want LSZ feels then this can stand alone :)

this blood in my mouth by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, POV LXC, Post-Canon)

~*~

13. Hi!

For the next IMTF, I'm looking for fics where LXC finds himself a new passion and is hilariously bad at it, much to others' amusement & secondhand embarrassment. Especially lwj or lqr is suffering.

His partners, be it jgy, nmj, jc or anyone, is very supportive of lxc's passion. It could be baking, gardening, cooking, dancing etc.

For example, "The evolution of the heart" by Uglybeautiful, Radiencia..(lxc takes up magic/the art of illusion and joins a circus) @imstillthinkingaboutithmm

Magic Mishap by Regency_Bunny (T, 8k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Single parent WWX, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, Meet cute, Love at first sight, Himbo LXC, Magic tricks)

The Shape of Your Love (is Horny) by Vamillepudding (T, 25k, WangXian, XiYao, Urban Fantasy, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, WWX is Bad at Being a Demon, LWJ is definitely a Monsterfucker) had a running gag about LXC taking up new hobbies that he is horrible at, including ceramics, perfume-making, knitting, etc. JGY is very supportive and LWJ and LQR try to ignore it out of politeness

~*~

14. Hi! I’m itfm

a) tattooed lwj agenda. Specifically when his arms are tattooed and they show when he pulls up his sleeves, but anything and everything is fine

b) Ceo lwj where his employees find out he’s married or dating wwx or regular office worker lwj and his coworkers find out

Thank you! @wangxian-is-my-life

14A)

(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering (E, 36k, WangXian, Modern AU, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, lan zhan FUCKS, Fluff and Smut, Experienced LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, Pining while fucking, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Spit Kink, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, Praise Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Kink Negotiation, Pride and Prejudice 2005 (dir. Joe Wright), mentions of Wei Ying/others and Lan Zhan/others)

🔒 Craquelure & Coverups by Inessencedivided (E, 27k, wangxian, Modern, Tattoo Parlor AU, Reincarnation, Tattoo Artist WWX, Tattooed LWJ, Dreams and Nightmares, Past Lives, trauma discussions, Mutual Pining, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, First Kiss, First Time, Body Worship, Non-Penetrative Sex, Happy Ending, further tw in the notes)

Tattoos for Broken Hearts by TriviasFolly (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, LWJ has a Tramp Stamp Tattoo, that's the fic) lower back tattoo

14B)

like strawberries on a summer evening by ritualist (E, 15k, WangXianChengYi, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Modern AU, Accidental Voyeurism, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Choking, Light Dom/sub, Light BDSM, Bratting, Light breathplay, Wei Ying says no when he means yes (and everyone understands this to be the case), Mild S&M, Spitroasting, Rimming, Porn with Feelings, Polyamory) lawyers, poly 4some

~*~

15. Hi! For ITMF, could you recommend me a heavy plot fic in canon era before WWX died and revolve around him. It can be fix it/time travel/canon divergence/etc. No bashing except several character like YZY, JFM, LQR, JGS, WC, WLJ. You can bash them but i prefer not.

Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

~*~

16. I saw a lwj whump in the itmf some time ago but I can't find it.

I believe it was physical lwj whump specifically, can u help please?

hope you're having a nice day

Alter by Solmae (E, 162k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Drama & Romance, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Gang Rape, Forced Prostitution, PTSD, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture) LWJ is taken as a sex slave by the Wen, so definitely counts as whump

Bring Your Wonder (Lose Your Faith) by kianspo (M, 75k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Different Sunshot Campaign, straight boy wwx, Feelings Realization, Protective LXC, Protective WWX, BAMF WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, POV Multiple, LWJ Whump)

~*~

17. Hi! I know this isn’t your normal ship, but could I itmf WWX/NMJ fics? I recently read “Better Things To Do With A Flute In Wartime” (a WWX/NMJ/ eventual also LWJ fic) and really liked the dynamic between WWX and NMJ. Particularly how blunt NMJ was, how he valued WWX’s mind and strength from a kind of unbiased viewpoint as a sect leader and war general, and also that they bonded over unorthodox cultivation methods. Would love to see more of this couple! Thank you so much!

An Elegant Solution by giraffeter (E, 205k, niewangxian, canon divergence, arranged marriage, friends to lovers, fix-it, everyone lives au, courtship, polyamory, smut)

Crowned in Glory (fear no more) by Pip (Moirail) (E, 19k, NMJ/WWX, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Loss of Virginity, Size Difference, Sunshot Campaign, Sexual Tension, Certified dage fucker, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Rimming, Canon Divergence, Butterfly Effect, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Dubious interpretation of resentful energy)

Resent & Blossom by manaika (T, 26k, NMJ/WWX, JC & WWX, LWJ & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & WWX, Love Triangles, Pining, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, eferences to Fatal Journey, Strangers to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Murder Attempt)

Pastime (With Good Company) by nirejseki (Not rated, 25k, NMJ/WWX/LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is very thirsty, and not straight at all, same for LWJ, WIP)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

143 notes · View notes