#but I feel miserable and lonely and sad and just Very Not Good

[teacupchimera]

I...sad

[innocet]

I know that life is sooo long and I’m so new at it but it’s so hard not to get trapped in thinking that I’ve already Peaked. I had it so good like six months ago and now I’m somewhere new and scary and I miss my friends and my campus

[monstermp3]

.

[inbarfink]

Okay, so here’s the thing….

We are still at a very early point in the narrative of ‘Fionna and Cake’ and therefore at a very early point in Simon’s character arc. It’s pretty clear that “I need to become Ice King again” is not the end point by any meaning of the word. But I am wondering where we’re going to go with this, cause… The series has yet to really tackle how miserable Ice King himself was a lot of the time. And how often he hurt people. 

Like, yes, I was an advent advocates for 'trying to bring back Simon Petrikov was a really really Bad Idea on Betty's part, it was more healthy to focus on making sure Ice King was as happy and healthy and harmless as he could be', but I am also fully aware that he started the show being both extremely lonely and extremely sad and also a serial kidnapper who was very much a danger to those around him. And as much progress as he made during the show, getting Ice King to that point was a very serious struggle with a lot of backslidings and problems.

'Friends Forever' is, for example, an episode that stuck with me for a long time as a really heart-wrenching demonstration how even in that late stage, when he has buddies and people trying to seriously take care of him - Ice King was still very capable of seriously sabotaging his own relationships and hurting others and himself.

And it does make sense narratively that, like, characters like Astrid and Fionna and Cake, all of whom lack the full context of what Ice King's life was like (Fionna and Cake really just saw Simon at his worst and only got snippets of clips of Ice King and since Astrid was born after Humans came to Ooo that means she was also born after the events of ‘Come Along With Me’) all see Simon as a downgrade. Because they really don’t understand how bad Ice King was beforehand. 

And thus is does make sense that with Simon's current mental state, and how he is surrounded lately with these kinda people who never really knew Ice King and don’t really understand how terrible and miserable he could be, and now hearing that his ‘sanity’ just took away magic and whimsy from some else’s whole universe, and how it feels like the actual gods of the multiverse are telling him that he should be Ice King, that he's supposed to be Ice King....

It makes sense that he might start kinda... romanticizing that time in his life again. 

You know, the big thing about the outlook that Betty should’ve accepted Ice King as who he is rather than basically destroy herself to bring Simon back wasn't about whatever Ice King or Simon Petrikov were better or 'cooler' than the other. It was about, like, embracing change. Not obsessing about a past where things were ‘Better’ but seeing what is the best you can do with things as they are. Moving forwards.

And we all know how Simon feels about moving forwards right now…

And obviously that's a pretty bad mindset, even if it's understandable how he got there...

And honestly, if we do explicitly acknowledge that, hey! Ice King’s life was often just as much of a depressive spiral as Simon's is right now! There might be an element of… resignation in Simon’s decision. 

Because Simon's downward spiral since getting cured is not a demonstration that he was better off under the Ice Crown's curse.... But, to him, more a demonstration that he doesn't need the Crown to screw up his own life anymore.

‘Cause as both as Ice King and as good ol’ ‘sane’ Simon Petrikov he is just as capable of being lonely and depressed.

And just as capable of losing his own identity.

And just as capable of pushing his loved ones away and ruining his own life.

And just as capable of becoming a weirdo obsessive.

And just as capable of making little girls cry.

He even started kidnapping people again! That’s the Ice King Classic!

So on some level, maybe Simon is resigned to the fact he’s always going to be SOME sort of screwed up lonely sadman who hurts others. And if that is his fate, he might as well be the screwed up lonely sadman who is mostly oblivious to how sad he really is and can shoot ice from his fingertips. And his arc is going to be about realizing that, whether he is Ice King or Simon Petrikov, healing and change ARE always possible for him.

But we’re gonna have to see where it goes…

[youryanderedaddy]

Bad dog

tw: very trippy and edgy rawr, hinted captivity, hinted abuse, insults, victim blaming

During the coldest nights, as the fireplace tickles your cheeks red, he likes to tell you over and over - with the slightest of smiles, the story of how you two first met. As if you don't remember it. As if you don't regret every second of it.

You with your long raincoat crying, barely coherent, searching for escape, for a savior to run into. Clinging to any stranger who looked kind enough, who had innocent eyes, who wasn't drunk or drugged out of their mind - but in that type of neighbourhood after dark, you hardly met any respectable people. Heavy stench of wet tobacco sinking to the very fabric of your flimsy dress under the cargo (feeling like a whore and looking like one, he often adds with a biting chuckle) - your heart was beating, clapping like a dying bird's wings, and if it could speak with a human voice, it would be screaming. You were being chased.

You don't even recall his name or his face anymore. Maybe an angry lover? A crazed admirer? Your father, drunk and bitter after a fight? Back then you were so terrified you could describe him in your sleep, but now nothing seemed as scary as it did back then. Darkness has become your sanctuary and even the monsters pity you. You were afraid you were losing your mind, once, (don't be silly, he had said. you were crazy from the star, doll.) you could feel his hands on you, but whose hands were they really? Why were you running in the first place?

He was screaming. Threatening to murder you, maybe. You were shaking and wet and you just needed a hug. And perhaps one hundred martinis followed by the most gruesome, toe - curling, humiliating fuck of your life. The type that leaves you feeling filthy, bleeding, and not even in a good way. The type you could control and write down, and fully envision with director cuts and quotes and props, as if come out of your own personal fucked up pink little porn studio.

You needed someone - something. A friend? A kind soul that happened to pass by? You had watched too many movies. You were naive - all those offices, all those mass corporate names, those leather seats at the top floor right next to the big boss, those tears and sweats to climb the ladder and yet, you were still a naive, stupid little girl. Believing in fairytales, in the power of love, tenderness, believing that out there exists someone who might just take you as you are for free. Someone who will hold you without bruising you. Someone who will save you without destroying everything you are. Someone who will fight those fights for you without somehow perversely enjoying breaking down all those walls, all that independence you had created for yourself.

You're not a child anymore. And as you look at the man across from you, with his crazed eyes, with what he thinks is love, you're not sure if you're the naive one. You're not sure if good exists, if love is real or just some commercial bullshit. A lie that communists invented to get free sex, or whatever.

"You looked like a nasty little street rat. You jumped into my arms and I was thinking," He speaks and speaks and speaks, and God, you're tired of hearing. You wish your ears would bleed out before he is finished with the story. "Maybe I should blow your brains out. One less sad whore on those streets." He grips your thighs painfully and you kick him in the groin, but he only groans in return. Freak. "But then you opened that cute little mouth of yours and-"

And you begged him to help you. To save you. To take you away from this miserable life of yours.

"You looked so helpless. I couldn't help myself."

And that's why he decided to chain you like a dog and fuck you black and blue. Because he couldn't help himself. And because you couldn't help yourself, you had invited him. Your body was calling out to him. If you weren't so sad, if you weren't so lonely, so helpless. If you weren't in the wrong place at the wrong time, you wouldn't meet the wrong people. If you had only been a good girl. If you had just stayed put. If you didn't entice bad men - even as a child. Even as you were spilling your guts out, maybe your blood was just that beautiful.

"You basically threw yourself into my arms. It was love at first sight."

Right. It was love all along.

[vampiricgf]

Home Is Where the Heart Is

stepdad leon kennedy x stepdaughter reader

wc: 2k+

warnings: stepcest, masturbation, fingering, intoxication, creampie, hickies, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl), reader is in their twenties but he's older

I need him so bad somebody has to step up and shoot me with a tranquilizer dart or something before I become completely delusional

You sigh as the door clicks behind you, the final death kneel of yet another failed, miserable date. The sound of low, canned tv voices drifts from the living room and you feel yourself deflate even further, not wanting to have to go through the motions of telling your stepfather about yet another boring, unfulfilling date. 

Maybe I should just throw my phone in a fucking river and become a crazy hermit-

“Hey, you just get in from the date?” His voice reaches you from around the corner in the foyer and there's no avoiding it. Time to tell him yet again that his step child has basically zero prospects and is doomed to be living here until she’s an ancient crone. Surely he’ll be thrilled about the idea of having to support you forever. 

“Yeah, it was fine.” You shrug, leaning against the wooden open frame of the archway as he meets your gaze and your bag drops from your loose grasp to rest against the wood flooring. He's unfocused, a little disheveled. 

Looks like we’ve both had shit nights if hes already drinking. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he gives you a sympathetic expression, “but plenty of fish in the sea, right?” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” You sigh, turning to make way for the stairs, for the refuge of your bedroom and a few solid hours of unconsciousness where you could pretend you weren’t an embarrassing, lonely burden. “Good night, dad.” 

“Night hon,” you hear from behind you as you ascend to the second floor, debating on if you should wash your face or if you could get away with skipping it for at least tonight. 

Plenty of fish in the sea, yeah easy for him to say. Even if it had always felt weird you knew your stepfather was attractive, good looking and a little mysterious with the whole government agent thing. Not even you really knew the specifics, weren’t sure if even your own mother had known at all before her passing. The sudden thought of her makes your throat tighten up and you decide that yes, you can skip the stupid skincare tonight because sometimes you just have to lay in bed miserable for a bit. 

Maybe masturbating will help, at the very least it’ll get you closer to being exhausted enough to pass out and if Leon is downstairs you don’t have to be as paranoid about noise like you are most nights. 

As you flop against the plush surface of your bed once the door shuts behind you your hand fumbles blindly at the nightstand on your right, searching for the drawer handle. With a huff you prop up on your elbow, yanking it open to reveal the sight of a sleek, glass dildo. It had been a treat purchase, something to reliably cheer you up on nights like this, of which there had been more than you cared to admit to yourself. The only thing you were really sad about, as you peeled off your shirt and slid down your jeans, was that you wasted a nice matching underwear set on no one. 

Eyes closed you let your mind drift as your hands run over your own skin, touching and teasing in just the way you enjoy, already biting your lip at the prospect of wearing yourself out on the little glass toy. But as your fingers brush over the dampness of your underwear, legs spread, you can’t help the way your mind drifts back to him. Your stepfather, all dirty blonde hair and eyes like the tides. It wasn’t fair. If you weren’t related by marriage he would be the type you’d be salivating over, desperate to drag into bed just to let him-

You failed to hear his footsteps on the stairs, failed to hear the doorknob being gripped and the heavy wood being swung open until it was too late. With a strangled cry you scramble back, hands pressed uselessly to your heaving chest, legs squeezed together and eyes wild as you stare at him in the doorway, holding your bag you’d left sitting in the open archway. 

“Oh my god dad-”

“I’m sorry, sorry, you left this and I, I figured you’d want it.” his voice trails weakly, lame, as his eyes look everywhere but at you and your skin burns with embarrassment and something else that makes your ribs feel like they’re being crushed. The secret shame of the fact that you’d been about to finger yourself to the thought of him and now here he is, in the flesh.

“Thanks but can you get out, like right now?” 

Despite your attempt at firmness the words fall flat somehow, betrayed by your still present desire and you can feel it. Feel the way his eyes now stick to you like your body is made of gummy taffy and he’s helplessly caught in the trap of it. The silence extends, growing heavy on the strange tension now gathering in the air like storm clouds. Your nerves are alight in a way that you can only describe as primal, high strung and waiting for some sign, some movement to indicate where this is going because suddenly you’re aware that you’re not the only one in control of it. 

“You’re too good for any of those guys anyway,” he speaks like a man deprived of water for hours, slightly hoarse and you can’t help the little shiver that quakes down your spine at the compliment. 

“Thanks, but… I didn’t mean for you to, you know, see.” 

“I’m sorry,” and hes stepping across the threshold and you know, you know this is descending into dangerous territory. The sort of thing you can’t come back from once it’s started. You feel your lip wobble, feel the familiar sting of tears about to gather in your waterline though from the humiliation or not is unclear. What is clear is that your stepfather at least has a semi at the moment, the slight bulge in his pants stroking your ego. “I could help you, if you want?”

You can hear it, naked desperation, and not for the first time you feel a pang of sympathy for him. You know it’s been hard, lonely, after all this time and not just for you and it’s like your body is suddenly attached to marionette strings, shyly nodding your head and uncurling from yourself. It’s strange, being so conscious now of the underwear you have on and the fact that you’d used a little of that sparkling dust stuff that makes skin look just an extra bit more tempting when it’s on display. 

You wonder if he’s ever thought of you before now, in this way. 

He lifts one knee, moving slowly, pressing down on the mattress next to your trembling legs, and his eyes don’t stop wandering your face, searching for any sign you’ve changed your mind before completely kneeling between your legs that have practically spread themselves. As one of his palms meets the blazing flesh of your thigh you can’t help the gasp that escape you, the way you reflexively move your arms to hug yourself, hide yourself again. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he says it like he’s soothing an anxiety ridden animal but it helps, the familiar affection of his voice immediately making your muscles relax minisculely. “It’s just you and me.”

And those words, just you and me, speak to the now overblown need pooling in your belly and you can’t help the way you unfurl for him, like some night blooming flower with all of it’s most tender parts exposed. The air feels balmy and thick against your skin as his hands, both now grasping your legs, run up and down your thighs in a relaxing rhythm. 

You watch as his eyes flick down to your underwear, you can feel how damp they are and you bite your lip as you see his posture shift as he takes in the sight of your barely clothed pussy, needy and already soaking the thin material. 

“What were you thinking about?” he asks as one index finger starts tracing the hemmed edge of them, barely touching where you ache for him to put his fingers. Your hips squirm in response, trying to move so that his touch will land where you need it. But he can see what you’re doing and evades your attempts, making you whine. 

“If you want me to touch you, you gotta answer.”

“Was thinking about you,” you trail off, hesitant, “I wondered if you think about me.”

Finally he gives you what you want, running his finger over your slit , pressing down right on your throbbing clit just hard enough to make you gasp, your back arching ever so slightly against the mattress. “Shit, you’re so wet.”

He doesn’t answer you and you don’t need him to, already knowing the answer would be that he has and it makes smug satisfaction practically ooze from your body as you preen under his touch. Those calloused, thick fingers slipping past the barrier of your panties, making your mouth drop open and loosely you can recognize that the situation is beyond fucked, getting fingered by your stepfather isn’t something you can just come back from when daylight breaks as if it had never occurred but for now, none of that really matters. 

All that matters is the way his fingers slip inside you so easily, curling just right against your slick walls before pumping in and out, a steady pace as his other hand rubs circles against your hip to calm your twitchy muscles. The sounds of your harsh breathing and the faintly wet squelching of your pussy makes you lightheaded, delirium dripping down the back of your throat and acting like lighter fluid for the kindling of lust inside your gut. 

It feels like you’re being scorched, branded, from the inside out as the pace of his fingers gets more rapid, his thumb pressing against your clit to make you see stars behind your squeezed shut eyes. 

You can hear yourself babbling but it feels distant, far away and dreamlike as the tether between brain and body gets yanked tighter and tighter with each pass of his fingers, unrelenting even as you writhe and gasp against the sheets. 

“Kiss me,” you manage to squeeze the demand from your lungs and he’s quick to oblige, not leave his little girl begging. As your lips pressed together in a mess of rushed teeth clicking and spit slicked movement you feel him pull his fingers from you, hurriedly pulling down his waistband just enough for his cock to spring free. 

And you’re so eager for him, hand snaking down between your bodies to wrap your hand around his shaft and the moment you do he buries his face against the side of your neck with a groan, hips jerking as your thumb smears the fat beads of precum over the tip that you’re sure must be all flushed, a pretty shade of pink. His other hand is pulling your panties to the side and you know what he’s asking for without a word, rubbing the tip through your wetness as he shudders against you, teeth scraping the delicate skin of your throat. 

Feeling bold you angle your hips upward at just the moment when he moves his hips to push through your folds, but the motion makes his tip push deliciously against your entrance, the slide made effortless by the way he’d worked your pussy just moments ago. 

The feeling of it, being so completely full of him, the way he crowded every sense from sight to sound to touch was transendant. Rapturous, like being made whole after not even realizing you’d been incomplete, not realizing there was an entire missing piece. 

And suddenly any remaining guilt you felt for this vanished, dissipated like a wisp of smoke being blown away from a freshly extinguished candle. All that mattered in the world was the present moment, the two of you in this bed and your eyes rolling back as your spine arched at the feeling of him bottoming out inside you, the way he sucked at your neck in between little nips from his incisors. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he gasped against you, moving from yout neck to your lips as his hips began to move, caging your head with his forearms. 

You can’t make your mouth form words, tongue feeling heavy and useless as a wad of cotton in your mouth as you moan in response, fingers twisting into the material of his shirt as you urge him on and the edges of your mind fray with every hit of his tip against the spot you can usually only reach with the dildo in your bedside drawer. 

His rhythm is sloppy, nonsensical, but you don’t mind, not when your own fingers are circling your clit just the way you like and you can feel yourself tightening around him, feel the way your bodys pulling him back in voraciously. This was what you needed, not some random asshole from an app that wouldn’t be able to fuck you half as well, no. A part of you always knew your stepfather would take better care of you, he always has. 

“Want you to come inside, please,” you whine out and hear his little oh fuck muffled against your mouth as you swallowed down his groans like they were the finest vintage as your own orgasm rushed in, like high tide when you least expect it, flooding the shoreline in a relentless barrage. It’s not hard to tell he’s particularly powerless against the way your pussy squeezes around him, growing ever tighter like you’re trying to wring every drop from his body and gives it to you readily, eagerly, with one last harsh thrust before his balls rest heavily against your ass and hes panting, struggling for breath against you as you feel warmth spreading, flooding hot and sticky inside as you two stay locked together. 

When the sun comes up, maybe you’ll feel a modicum of shame for what happened but in this moment all you can feel is a boneless type of bliss as his arms slide underneath you, hold you tight against him in a perverse pantomime of a hug with his cock still inside you as he mumbles into your hair. 

“You’re such a good girl, always been my good girl.”

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of the break up has different effects on both, Azriel and Reader.

A/N: yall I'm sick🥲 the updates might be late but I'll try to post as much as possible. Hope you like this one!

Pieces Masterlist

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It's been one month.

One month of Healing.

When azriel left, I told myself that I will not contact him until I'm ready. Doesn't matter how much I'm missing him or wanting him. I will not talk to him until I know I won't take him back the second I see him again.

I gave myself two days. Two days to sulk all I wanted. I spent the whole time crying and feeling miserable about myself. Before Az left at least, I wasn't by myself. At least I saw him once a day.

Now? Nothing.

I am totally alone. His absence hit me Hard. Everything I saw, almost brought me to my knees.

The kitchen where we would make dinner together, laughing and joking with each other that many times ended with us covered in flour and syrup.

The couch where we would sit cuddling and talking until we fell asleep, always waking up with strained muscles.

His office where he would sit on his chair in front of his desk, writing out reports and whatnot while I sit in his armchair reading my book. Just enjoying each others company and occasionally taking breaks to make out on the very deck, and then some.

After those dreadful days though, I called Feyre and Mor and had a very much needed girls night. We took out a wine bottle and I spilled everything to them. My mind was too drunk to think my feelings about Elain might offend Feyre but she genuinely felt sad for me and embarrassed about her sister. The poor girl even apologised to my about Elain's behavior to which I immediately told her it wasn't her fault.

When I told them how lonely it got being alone in a big house like this, they suggested maybe I should get a job or something to keep my mind distracted and promised that they'll visit me often. So I did juat that.

I found a part time job at a local library. I have to admit, I'm really enjoying it. I'm the second assistant to the sweetest lady, Hilda, who owns the shop. I don't do much, just help her in small things like adjusting books on self or helping in shipping books out or in. Layla, the first assistant, handles most of the work around the shop. My job is basically doing what she asks of me. The salary isn't much but I don't care because it's never been about money.

The first week was very hard. Everyday after I came home, the silence felt like a slap on the face, reminding me of everything I lost.

But, slowly, I became comfortable with it. Now it's doesn't hurt me as it did before.

There were many times when I think of Azriel, tears filled my eyes, but I never let them free. I sucked them in and did anything else that didn't made me cry, like taking baths, baking my favorite chocolate brownies, reading in front of the fire place while drinking hot coco or calling my friends to take me shopping.

And as time went. I started to heal. I started to feel good, happier with myself. And without even realizing it, I started to love myself.

-☆-

Azriel

It's been one month.

One month of regretting everything I did to my mate.

I've spent my whole month sulking in this room, crying and regretting everytime I chose Elain over my wife. I haven't slept at all since I came here, just enough to keep me functioning. My appetite is gone. I don't eat unless Rhys come and force feeds me like I'm some baby.

I told Rhysand and Cassian everything the first morning i stayed here. Which earned me a flick to head by Cassian and a very disappointed look from Rhys. Even though they didn't give me any scolding(which I very much deserved), the flick and expression said enough.

Rhys has refrained me of any work, handling it himself or having someone else do it. While I have been sitting around here and hating myself. It seems like even my mind has declared itself an enemy, showing me memories of everytime I dismissed Y/N and hurt her in any way at most random times, cutting a deeper cut in my heart everytime.

"Hey Az, I was thinking if we could go out for dinner tonight? There is this new amazing restaurant I saw while walking near Sidra. I really want to try it." She told me as I put on my coat, ready to go.

"I can't, I have a mission for today. Rhys told me it's important so I can't skip. We'll go some other time. Okay?"

"Ok."

I could hear the excitement in her voice when she asked me and the hurt when I rejected her and promised to go another time. The time never came. She never asked again. And I never noticed.

"Az, are you awake?" She whispers in the dead of night. Both of us sleeping on the bed. My back to her, hoping to fall asleep quickly because I have early training tomorrow.

Cassian is spending time with Nesta more, so Rhys has told me to go to an illyrian camp to check how things are going. I have to wake and go there early to catch them off guard to see what's truly going on.

I can't do that if Y/N doesn't let me sleep.

I didn't answer her that night, hoping if i dont respond, she'll think im asleep and doesnt call me again. She really didnt call me again. I prioritized my sleep over her. Her voice sounded so small. She needed me. And I didn't care.

"So, I saw a really cute baby in garden today and..." I drone out her babbling and try to quickly I can get out of here, I promised Elain to help in her garden today. She'll be disappointed if I show up late.

"Az? You're listening to me right?" She suddenly questions, I clear my throat and answer a small, of course, she nods and takes a deep breath, not saying anything anymore. I sign in relief of the silence.

I put my head in my hands and tug hard on my hair, wanting to feel hurt, hurt the kind that she clearly felt and I didn't care.

I hate myself more and more as memories flash through my mind. I can't even cry at this point. I wished she'd hit me when we fought. Slaped and paunched some sense into me. I don't blame her at all for not talking to me. Gods, I wouldn't even blame her if she left me. I deserve it.

How do I fix this?

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Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 8

Twinkles

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Little Birdie Next Part: True Romantic

Word Count: 7,072

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

A week and a handful of days was exactly how long you actually made it into your two weeks before you found yourself with a mind just as hectic and busy as it was the day you left the compound. But the only difference now was that it was you and your thoughts back on an empty road on the way back to the compound.

You figured that processing your feelings and settling back in at home might've been good for you. Maybe being back in the environment that caused all of the physical and mental injury would help move the healing along faster, help you make amends and tie up all the loose ends you needed in order to really solidify your place in such an environment.

Plus, you still wanted to talk to Bucky again. You needed to bury the fight for good. And Steve... lord knows you still have a lot to figure out between the two of you... and Bucky. Okay... there was still a lot of figure out with the three of you.

The road was so dark and almost lonely with the lack of traffic happening at 10pm on a weeknight. For some reason, not even your playlist or the almost freezing temperatures outside competing with your car heater was distracting your brain from the only thought it could conjure up, which was to call Steve.

You didn't know why you wanted to talk to him, or even what to say, but your fingers even pulled up his contact on your car's display just in case.

It was already late, and you had no reason, but you couldn't stop thinking about him. Wondering if he was already asleep, you took the leap of faith and pressed call.

Your intuition was right, because before you could even press call, Steve's name popped up on the little screen and your car informed you that he had called you first.

"Hello?" You spoke, eyes glued to the open road.

"Hey, Bug." He spoke back, voice deep and raspy as if he was half asleep. "What are you up to?"

"Funny you should ask, I was literally just about to call you but you beat me to it." You told him with a smile, well aware he couldn't see it.

"Oh really? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I don't know why I wanted to call you, but my brain was telling me I should." You explained. However, you could recognize now with the sound of his voice that there was something going on with him. He sounded sad, or maybe frustrated and definitely tired. "What's going on with you?"

"Funny you should ask" A very fake and lazy chuckle sounded. "I'm miserable at the moment, can you tell?"

"Just a little." You lied. He definitely sounded miserable. "What happened, Stevie?"

"The stupid heater in my apartment isn't working and it can't get fixed until tomorrow." Steve started. "I'm exhausted, but no matter what I do I can't fall asleep because I'm so fucking cold. I was going to ask Bucky if I could sleep at his place tonight but I saw Nat's location was in his apartment so that flew out the window."

It took a slight moment to figure out why Steve was complaining about the temperature when he was usually the kind've guy that could put up with anything. But when it clicked, you felt a billion times worse for him.

You remembered a few times Steve has confessed to you that he can't stand the feeling of being cold.. 66 years of being stuck in ice will do that to a person.

Though he had no memory of all of those long years, his brain seemed to hold onto what he felt during the first few moments of the plane he crashed straight into the arctic.

So every time Steve found himself alone in the cold, he swore he could feel his skin sting. His heart would race no matter how hard he tried to get it to slow down, it felt like the floor would start dropping below his feet, and the entire time he was waiting for pain that never came. The longer he stayed cold, the worse it would spiral.

Your eyes darted to the time displayed in your car, 10:54 pm. Then they read the outside temperature, 36 degrees Fahrenheit.

"That sounds awful, I'm sorry" You pouted. "You have my key, why don't you sleep at my place?"

There was a deep sigh through the phone line, and a few moments of silence as he contemplated what to say next. "It's okay. I'm actually not even too sure why I called you, I think I'm just trying to calm myself down."

Your pout deepened and your heart cracked. "Steve"

"Hmm?"

"Go sleep in my bed." You commanded.

"It's fine, Bug. I just wanted to talk to you. Why does it sound so... rumbly?" Steve tried to change the subject.

"Oh, because I'm driving right now." You explained. "Im using my phone's Bluetooth to turn on the heater in my apartment for you so it'll be nice and toasty when you get there."

"It's so late, why are you driving?" He asked.

"I'm actually on my way home right now." You explained keeping it vague, he didn't know which home you were referring to. "Is 73 degrees okay?"

"Bug, I can't." Steve denied, sounding remorseful.

"You can't what?"

"I can't just accept your kindness like this."

If you didn't know him so well, you almost wouldn't be able to know just from the sound of his voice that he was on the verge of tears. But i in this case, you probably knew him better that he would've liked. "Like what, Steve?"

"I still feel so bad that I hurt you." Steve explained, practically in a whisper. He was thankful you couldn't see the way his hands were shaking or the way he had to breathe through his mouth because of how fast his heart was pounding from the sheer amount of anxiety coursing through his nerves. "I can't just go seek comfort from you and invade your space after what I did. That's not fair."

Now, you felt like crying too. "We already talked about this. We can't keep holding onto what happened or it's going to make us both miserable."

"So you're still feeling better about it?"

"Since the last time I saw you? Absolutely." You reassured him. "What can I do to help you feel better right now?"

"This is more than enough." The statement was filled with the most confidence you've heard since answering the phone.

You knew he was seeking any sort of validation that you didn't absolutely hate him, so you tried your hardest to butter him up with some truthful vulnerability "I miss you"

"I miss you too." He agreed, letting his eyes fall shut. "Any chance I can see you again soon?"

You smiled, but he didn't have to know that. He also didn't have to know that you had a 35 minute ETA back to the compound. "I'm busy tomorrow, but how about Saturday?"

"Saturday works great." He declared, still miserable but he tried to be enthusiastic. "You're coming back to the compound on Saturday?"

"Yep, I'll be there." Again, not a lie. "What do you want to do on Saturday?"

"Sleep? Take a nap? Watch a movie? Take a nap while we watch movies?"

You laughed at his suggestions. "That sounds great. And what are you going to do right now?"

"Hopefully sleep and take a nap and sleep some more."

"Think some warm thoughts?"

"I wish I was a marshmallow on a stick." He mumbled.

"Love you lots, go sleep in my room."

"Love you more, no." Steve denied again. "I'll let you go now. I think I'm starting to feel a bit better."

"You think or you know?"

"I'll only know once I hang up."

"Well if you don't know, just call me back, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for talking to me, drive safe." He didn't want to hang up, but he also didn't want you to think he was being clingy or dramatic so he decided to cut the conversation short. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"Sure thing. Think about the marshmallow!"

A very small smile tugged at his lips. "Goodnight, Buggy."

"Sweet dreams, Stevie."

The phone-line ended and your music started again. Much like before, the road was still lonely, and you were still unable to get your mind off of Steve. Maybe even more so now than before the phone call. But there was nothing much you could even do for him from the middle of the highway, so you sang along to your playlist that was playing a bit too loud, and tried your best to ignore the uncomfortable sting settling in your lungs as anxiety took over the closer you got to the compound.

That anxiety only worsened as you pulled up, and parked in your reserved spot. You flung your bags over your shoulder and walked through the lobby to get to the elevator and up to your apartment.

The luxurious smell of the building, the sounds of the automated doors and buttons, mostly everyone walking around in their designated uniform, and all the familiar faces reminded you of the really dark place your mind forced you to live in for the long weeks before you left.

Your apartment was no help either. Dragging your feet through the living-room and into the bedroom made memories of all the hours you were stuck in bed flood back so fast you felt physically nauseated. The tossed around blankets over your couch and your bed left unmade was nothing but evidence of how fast you left the compound in the first place. As if you set out on an emergency mission to save yourself.

Luckily you had a perfect excuse to not linger for too long on your own, so you dropped your bags in the corner of your room before making your bed and let your legs carry you over to Steve's place.

After making your way all the way there, and taking a big deep breath to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen, you slid his key that you never gave back to him into his door.

Then, a voice appeared practically out of thin air. "Oh wow, never thought I'd live to see the day Rogers has a girl sneaking in" Tony commented as he walked right past you in the hallway.

"This is definitely not what it looks like." You denied Tony's remark with a shake of your head, but he didn't stick around long enough to even explain yourself.

You stuck to rolling your eyes as you entered his place. It was odd being in his apartment after so much time away, but it was exactly how it always was. Immaculately clean, decorated well, and it smelled subtly like his cologne that you loved so much.

Though you wanted to stop for a moment to reflect, it did little to keep you from walking straight to his bedroom door and opening it slowly as to not scare him.

The first thing you noticed was that his TV was on and playing a movie you didn't recognize, but it provided enough light for you to see the lump hiding beneath the covers. How you still felt the overwhelming sense of comfort you always did when you'd sneak into his bed during the sad and lonely nights. Then, you realized how cold it actually was in his apartment. The longer you were there, the more the chill in the air seeped through your clothes and raised bumps on your skin.

You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, but you walked towards him slowly regardless. Then, the blankets tugged around him tighter. The smile on your face spread when you realized he was awake and hiding from what he assumed was Bucky.

"Not in the mood, Punk." Steve mumbled.

A giggle escaped you as you sat on his bed. "Rude"

You watched as his head poked out just for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he let out a little sound of complaint, and pulled the blanket back over his head.

"Hey! Where did you go?" You questioned, smile stretching wider.

He mumbled out a statement you could barely understand, but you did catch the end. "....... liar."

"What did you call me?!" You questioned, faking offense.

There was no response other than a little laugh so quiet you almost missed it, so your hands weren't shy to grab onto the lump of muscles and anxiety covered in a pile of blankets and shake him around playfully. "What did you call me?!?!" You asked again with a giggle.

This time, he poked out just the top of his head and his stupidly beautiful big blue eyes. It was painfully obvious that he was hiding a smile despite his misery. "I called you a big fat liar" he sassed.

"I told you I was on my way home." You defended yourself with a performative gasp and your right palm straight over your heart. "I never lied!"

"I thought you were Bucky!" Steve continued, still hiding most of his face. He was thankful that the hoodie pulled over his head helped hide his messy hair.

"It's pronounced Buggy" you smiled.

"What are you doing back here so soon?"

"Stop asking so many questions, I'm here to rescue you." You enthused, but it earned another groan and the blanket back over his head. "Wow, you're really going to make my first mission back a difficult one huh?"

More gibberish grumbles sounded from underneath the blanket pile. Even if you asked him to clarify the meaning of his babbles, you knew he was still going to be unwilling to cooperate.

"Fine, you leave me no choice." You huffed while standing up from your spot and kicking your shoes off. Then, you grabbed hold of what you assumed was his shoulder and his waist, then pushed with all your might to roll him over from his back and onto his side.

Laughter he was trying his hardest to contain slipped past his lips when he heard your sounds of struggle. "I'm offended that you're huffing and puffing up there."

"Oh, so now you're speaking crystal clear?" You noted, taking in a deep breath after moving the dead weight of a super soldier. "Sorry for the huffing and puffing, didn't realize you were made of pure muscle and uranium. If I did, I would've warmed up a bit first."

"Uranium?" Steve questioned still sounding miserable, still hiding from you.

"The heaviest element on earth" you clarified, lifting the corner of the blanket pile on top of him before sliding into his bed. "It's a compliment on your big strong muscles, Stevie, don't get it twisted."

"What are you doing?!" His head lifted in confusion as you got into bed with him, under the safety of his blanket fort, and started curling yourself behind him.

The front of your body was against his back, your legs tucked behind his, and your arm wrapped around his waist to hold him nice and snug before you put your chin to his shoulder and propping yourself up a bit so you could see his face. "Providing you with the love and warmth you need to feel better, isn't that obvious?"

His big blue eyes opened to look up at you for just a moment, and when they met your gaze his stomach filled with butterflies and an undeniable blush warmed his cheeks. Then, his pretty eyes gleamed with that familiar twinkle that made the corners of your lips tug upwards.

You were so much braver than he was, because before the big blow out between the two of you, a friendly snuggle here and there was no big deal. But now that you knew the extent of his admiration for you, he didn't know if he would ever find the courage to touch you again. It was too high stakes, and way too nerve wracking for him to risk. Because if he tried his hand at you and fumbled his chance, he'd never forgive himself.

You found that hesitance to be obvious, but sweet and endearing. Much like you found his reactions to your actions to be even sweeter and more endearing.

The 6'4, 250 pound weapon of a man was nothing but putty in your hands now, and that did a number to your capacity to fight off your own repressed feelings for him. If he was putty, then you were melting like a snowman on a summer vacation. Neither of you stood a chance against each other, both of you were letting your walls fall not only down, but also apart.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut so hard that his whole face scrunched up, and let his head hit the pillow once more. "Why am I the little spoon?"

"Because I know you well, Stevenson" Your smile widened.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You have the most obvious little spoon energy of any person I've ever met before." You explained. "That's not a bad thing, it's just a fact. Are you not loving this?"

"That's a trick question" He huffed in complaint before nestling closer to you. "You're so warm."

"See? That'll make you feel better soon. And now you don't have to be alone, so we can take some nice deep breaths until our anxiety floats away... but of course if you hate this too much I can just leave..."

There it was. The biggest relief to Steve's mind and heart... your sassy and sarcastic spunk was starting to shine back through you. Though he still felt like pieces of yourself were lost, the smallest pieces of you were a victory to him. If he was just a little less anxious, he'd find it within himself to bounce off of your sarcasm, but right now he just needed his mind to be less busy.

Steve shook his head shyly. "I really don't hate this."

"See? So just relax." You reminded him as you settled in and let yourself fully lay down behind him. "You're so tense."

"I can never get myself to relax when I'm cold." He explained to you. "It feels like I'm waiting for something that never happens."

You could read between the lines of his words. He was waiting for a plane crash, a physical feeling of pain that he associated with being so cold.

"Nothing is going to hurt you, Stevie." You reminded him gently. Of course he knew that, but sometimes anxiety lies to brain if its victim. Sometimes a small reminder is all you need.

"I know." He agreed with a small nod, trying to get his hands to stop trembling.

"You know it's 42 degrees in here? I read the thermostat on my way in."

"Feels like it" Steve complained.

"My place is a toasty 73."

"That's lovely." He mumbled. "M'happy for you."

"You're so stubborn." You huffed, shoving your face between his shoulder and neck and placing your hand over his heart.

Steve gasped in fake offense. "Don't go searching for my heart rate! That's personal!"

"It's going pretty fast there, Bestie." You smiled, feeling it thunk against your hand before removing it from his chest and sliding it up to his shoulder so you could squeeze him just a little tighter.

"You're not helping, Bud" He admitted, trying his hardest to contain his feelings for you from oozing out through the very loose seams of his heart. The way you were squeezing his body against yours with such a lovely and gentle pressure was not helping it stay in place.

"It's pronounced Bug." You joked again. "It's obvious to me that you're still harboring a lot of guilt and that's half the reason for your anxiety right now, so we're going to stay like this until we talk it through and your hard head softened up enough to realize that I love you, and it makes me sad that you're not feeling great right now."

Steve audibly whimpered and shoved his face into his pillow, hiding away once again. "I just feel bad."

"We've already been over this. All is well."For a few moments, you had a new found sense of guilt. It felt like you had gone way too far in punishing him when it felt as though he was already punishing himself far more than he deserved. "Misunderstandings happen, arguments happen, fights happen, but it's just how the world works and it's a testament to how much we really care about each other. If we didn't care to have each other in our lives then there would be nothing to fight for, right?"

Still in hiding, Steve gently nodded his head.

"I've known you for how long?" You asked.

"Nine months" his muffled voice responded from somewhere between his face and the pillow.

You smiled. "How many days a week have I seen you in those 9 months?"

"Almost everyday, except for the last few weeks" He pouted.

"That's 279 days we've spent together and after every single one of those days, good or bad, I've still chosen to see you, or talk to you, or even think about you. And all of that, all of this has led us to right here, right now. You know why?"

Another grumpy grumble only fueled your fire to complete your mission of soothing the anxious soldier. "Hmm?"

"Because love is unconditional." You stated confidently. "And I can't let anyone I love be somewhere that's making them miserable. That's why you let me go, right? You gave me a chance to leave the compound."

Again, Steve nodded.

"And that's why I can't let you stay here tonight." Your hand squeezed the top of his shoulder. "...are you convinced yet?"

Suddenly, his head popped up "I like hearing you talk so I'm just listening while talking to work up the courage to get out of bed."

Your giggle sounded like heaven so close to his ear as you propped yourself up behind him again. "I had two more tricks up my sleeve, do you want to hear them or are we all good here?"

"I want to hear them"

"Okay the first one was that I was going to use our rooms as metaphors. We could stay here together and be uncomfortable and cold, or we could be cozy together in my warm fuzzy bed but we have to choose to move on."

"So deep and philosophical" Steve grinned. "The second one?"

"Oh the second one is cheap bait. I was going to tell you I have a family size bag of m&m's on my kitchen counter."

"Is that the truth?" He raised an eyebrow, looking back at your face to search for a bluff.

"The whole truth, and nothing but the truth." You confirmed.

"What kind of m&m's?"

One word to seal the deal, you knew it would get him up out of bed and straight into your apartment. "Mini"

"Get off of me, I have important business to attend." Steve joked with a very gentle sense of urgency, shrugging you off of his back.

You let him go and felt a sense of pride when the big beefy soldier got out of bed to follow you.

"Emergency mission?"

"Very important" he agreed, trying not to wince as the cold hair hit his skin again.

"Then put some pep in your step Rogers, we've got a mission to accomplish!"

He giggled and followed you through his room, into the living room and nearly out the front door before he passed a mirror and stole a glance at himself.

Strands of wild blonde hair were sticking out of the front of his hoodie pulled over his head. Socks on his feet, sweatpants, and the very obvious sleep deprivation causing redness under his eyes was not his best look.

"Oh wow, hope the hallways are clear because I'm going to scare people if they see me like this" Steve laughed at his reflection, getting his slippers on his feet.

"Maybe people will start treating you like you're human if they see you in something a little less business casual." You smiled, feeling happy that you got to see the usually put together soldier in such a state.

"I'm accepting it for what it is, because there's no amount of brushing or product in this world that would be able to fix my hair right now." He shrugged, following you out of the door and into the hallways.

"It's cute, you can pull it off."

No longer being able to hide his blushing cheeks from you, he bowed his head to the floor and trailed behind you all the way up to your apartment. His eyes stayed glued to the floor even as you unlocked your front door, he took that moment to fill his lungs with a big breath of air to try and snap out of the anxious daze he was in.

But as the door swung open, a big wave of warm air washed over his body and you took a step aside to let him in first. Only when he stepped into your warm living room did he feel like he could actually breathe again.

The floor felt a little more stable, his legs a little more steady, and the world seemed to have stopped its crashing and burning.

As you locked the front door and kicked off the shoes, Steve looked at your couch and suddenly felt a whole new wave of anxiety over the memories replaying in his head of that very night everything changed all because he sat in that one spot on your couch.

Then he thought of the last time he was here, the anxiety and gut wrenching guilt he felt as he trudged up to your apartment after nobody had seen you for a while, the way his heart dropped into his stomach when he found you asleep in your be-

"Stop thinking." Both your hands reached up and squeezed his shoulders from behind him. "Go to bed."

Immediately snapping out of it, he chuckled at the way you knew him so well before dragging his feet into your room, kicking off his slippers, and burrowing himself underneath your blankets this time.

You walked in a few moments later, bag of m&ms in hand, and a content grin on your face and warmth in your heart at the sight of Steve in your bed. He was already lying on his stomach with his arm above his head, and his head tucked into the ditch of his elbow.

After placing the bag of chocolate on the nightstand, you pulled the blankets over his back and sat next to him.

"Nice and warm?" You asked him, left hand rubbing small circles over his shoulder blade.

"like a marshmallow on a stick" his sleepy voice sounded.

"Cozy?"

"Mhm" Steve nodded.

"Like a bug in a rug!" You enthused, earning his laughter. "I'm happy you're here, Stevie."

"I'm happy that you're here." He turned his head to look at you, big blue eyes twinkling just for you. "A big part of me thought you'd never come back."

You let out a sigh, not being able to come up with much of a good reason why you came back. "Just felt like I had some unfinished business I had to take care of."

"Does that mean you know what you're going to do?"

You knew he was once again asking about your choice in quitting, staying an agent, or becoming an avenger, but you still couldn't quite get the insecure voice in the back of your heart and forefront of you brain to quiet down yet.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to tell anyone until after it's official so nobody tries to get me to change my mind." Your lips pressed together, contemplation turning your smile into a contemplative grin. "So right now I'm going to take a shower as fast as I can so I can get back to the blondie in my bed, then after that I'll probably lay awake all night wondering if I even know how to make good choices for myself."

"Wow, not even me?" Steve faked offense.

"I didn't even tell my Mom" You reassured him. "But I have a meeting with Fury in the morning to make my decision official so, you'll know tomorrow."

"So we're both going to be lying awake all night?"

You chuckled. "No, because I can tell you're exhausted and I already know you're going to fall asleep the second the second I stop engaging you in conversation."

"You're so mean." He smiled, eyes still wide and twinkling.

"Tell me about it." you agreed. "Are you going to be okay if I go shower really quick?"

"Mhm, I'm a big boy." He nodded.

"Okay big boy, you go to sleep, and I'll be right back" You squeezed his shoulder before getting up.

Steve was quick to let the exhaustion close his heavy eye lids, and he focused on emptying his head of it's constant racing thoughts. He listened to the sound of your drawers opening and closing, then the bathroom door closing behind you.

The sound of the shower turning on and the flowing water helped provide some comfort as he realized he finally felt safe and warm again. A lazy smile unintentionally spread across his face when your music followed, but it was playing so low he could barely hear it. One thing he knew about you was that you had to listen to music through completing any task, and you loved to share that music with everyone around you. But right now, it was quiet in consideration of him, and that was far more touching to him that you'd probably ever assume.

But that was just the effect you had on Steve, every little thing you did was so endearing to him and he just couldn't help himself for falling into you as if you were a trap perfectly designed to capture him.

Thoughts of you consumed his mind now, so much so that he slowly started slipping into a dreamy state, that was until not even two minutes after you had left him the bathroom door had opened again and he heard you walking around your room once more.

Assuming you had forgotten something, he paid it no mind. That was until your footsteps approached him, and he heard your voice whispering.

"Stevie?" Your voice was calm and gentle, and the shower was still running. "You still awake?"

"Yeah" his eyes opened again, and eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"Sorry, I just- I was thinking about our phone call earlier" You started before sitting down next to him again. "It's just not fair so I didn't want you to fall asleep before I had a chance to tell you."

"Not fair?" He questioned sleepily, forcefully blinking to keep his heavy eyes open.

Your nervous tight lipped grin told Steve everything he needed to know. Maybe it was just the lighting in your bedroom, or perhaps anxiety and exhaustion making him hallucinate but he swore he caught a slight blush on your cheeks.

"I can't help but to feel like maybe some of the anxiety or negative feelings you still have are because I haven't given you enough reassurance, and I'm sorry." You tried to read his expression as well as he was reading yours, but you picked up nothing but exhaustion and relief. "You know how much I love you, right?"

A small grin took over his lips and he let his eyes close in contentment, feeling a little too tired and comfortable to keep them awake anymore. But he nodded nonetheless.

"You know that your friendship and support has been a pivotal part of my career and personal growth, and I'll be loyal to you no matter what we go through?"

"I do now" he nodded again.

"Remember how I said we can explore the cute little twinkles in your eyes when things settle?" You started. "You know that's not just because I'm comfortable with it, but because I like you too, right?"

His eyes snapped open and eyebrows furrowed as if you had just set off a bomb in the bed he was sleeping in. "No, that was not made clear."

Steve swore his cheeks got so hot he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through the skin.

"Okay, well now it was!" You said with a calm and enthusiastic attitude that he could never even dream of achieving if a confession like that just rolled off his own tongue. "Glad we had this talk, I'm going to go take a shower now."

He was in pure disbelief as you stood up and walked away. "No insight on that? No further explanation?"

"You're really tired, don't want to bore you with the details." You shrugged with a playful giggle.

"I'm never going to sleep again" He said louder as you got further away.

"I don't believe you! Besides, the shower is running and I don't want to waste water." You pointed out. "I'll be right back!"

The bathroom door closed behind you, locked, then your faced scrunched up as your silently screamed and danced like a teenage girl. That locked door also gave Steve the space he needed to whimper into his elbow and mourn the person be was before his knowledge of your feelings.

You had simultaneously killed the man he once was, and birthed a new version of him. One whose thoughts were far more insufferable than the last, with approximately 4 billion questions to interrogate you with, and also less and more anxiety at the same time.

As promised, you showered quickly and changed into a loose t shirt and tight shorts you worked out in occasionally before making your way back to your bedroom. Tossing your dirty clothes into the hamper, you quietly turned off your bedside lamp leaving the room dark and slowly got into bed where Steve was, now laying on his side facing the middle of the bed.

As you got under the blankets and settled in next to him, you noticed he had taken his hoodie off leaving him in a shirt with his pretty blonde hair to be crazy on its own accord. Feeling happy that he was finally warm and content, you let your head hit the pillow, your body facing his as well.

You couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but you didn't pay it much mind. Happy to be back with your best friend and in your own bed, time slipped away from you as fast as your conscious.

Unsure how much time had passed, an undeniable cheeky smile spread across your lips when Steve's heavy forearms reached out to you and planted itself on your waist. His touch was tentative and very experimental, your smile widened as you could feel how hesitant he was to let the full weight of his arm rest on you.

To applaud his bravery and encourage good behavior, you placed your hand on his forearm to welcome him to relax and maybe even come a little closer if he felt like it. But he immediately ripped his arm away.

"...sorry" he mumbled quietly.

You reached over to grab his wrist and pull his arm back to right where it was before deciding that you needed to be brave for him. So you moved your whole body closer to his, pulled his arm around you, and you put your arm around him. "I was trying to pull you in, not push you away."

"Sorry again" he chuckled lazily.

You could feel his body relaxed as you tangled your legs with his, and snuggled your face into his chest. How he always managed to smell like a slice of heaven was beside you, but you were happy to reap the benefits.

Tightening his arms around you and nestling his chin into your hair, he felt like there was nothing that could ever get him to give this up. There was no emergency in the world that could pull his mind away from the happiness and comfort he felt in your embrace. Really, nothing was going to hurt him.

"Comfy?" He asked you, voice deep and raspy.

"Snug as a bug in a rug." You confirmed, making him giggle.

"Sweet dreams, Buggy."

"Goodnight, Twinkles." You said, knowing he would hate the nickname you had thought of.

"How dare you" He complained regardless of being able to hear the smile in his voice.

"Sorry, Twinkles. It's stuck now. Nothing I can do to change it."

"If you insist"

You internally celebrated the win. "Love you."

"Love you more."

As the night fell and the morning rose, Steve didn't remember a single thing. He slept like the dead, and woke up in pure bliss the next morning.

He wasn't sure he had ever been so comfortable in his entire life. The two of you weren't really cuddling anymore, but your sweet little face was still facing him, and your arms still held onto each other while your bodies drifted and sprawled out to their own contentment.

Gentle morning light, your calm and gentle breaths, he could've stayed like this forever.

He looked around and noticed you were sleeping on your tummy now, one of your legs were hiked up so your knee was against his thigh, and you had kicked most of the blankets off of yourself in your sleep. Though the heater was on and he wasn't concerned about you being cold, something caught his eye and piqued his interest.

The back of your shirt hiked up and exposed some of the skin on your back. Steve had seen you in a sports bra countless times before, even naked once, but the difference was now your back was covered in a big scar.

He frowned for you, knowing that there was a permanent reminder on your body of the asshole who went out of his way to make your life a living hell. It also left him wondering what his body would look like if it allowed him to hold onto every scar and mark obtained from battle.

Then, your stupid alarm went off and had to ruin everything. Steve tried his hardest not to curse the universe for taking this moment of peace away from him as he grabbed your phone to turn your alarm off.

He gently shook your arm until your pretty eyes blinked open.

"Time to wake up, buggy." He sweetly smiled at you.

You groaned before shoving your face into a pillow. Now it was your turn to be the dramatic one. "Says who? You can't make me"

"Says Fury, your meeting is in an hour." Steve reminded you.

"You make some good points" Your giggle sounded, poking your head back out. "Good morning, Steven."

"Steven?" Steve questioned with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Yeah, short for Stevenson!" You said matter of factly, prying yourself out of bed and swinging your legs over the side of the mattress.

"Oh right, my full name." Steve agreed with you with all the seriousness in the world. He would stop the world from turning just to entertain your humor.

"Mhm, it's on your birth certificate." You nodded. Still sitting on the edge of your bed, you started thinking about the day ahead of you. "Hey Twinkles, I have a question."

A smile stretched across your face as you could hear his sigh at the nickname that definitely wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "How can I help you, bug." Steve's tone unenthusiastic.

"I just realized I never got my new suit back, so what am I supposed to wear to a meeting with Fury?" You looked back at him fast enough to catch a sneaky smile on his face.

"Oh there is a reason you don't have that back yet, but you don't need it just to see Fury. Wear something nice-ish, you'll be fine."

"And what would that reason be?" You questioned, finally standing up and stretching out your back.

"I guess you'll find out today." Steve shrugged, still laying down, still feeling lazy.

"You boys are exhausting to be around" You joked while disappearing into your bathroom.

Somewhere between you humming along to your music, and your footsteps around your apartment, Steve drifted off again. He wasn't necessarily asleep, but he wasn't really awake either.

Time and space didn't exist in this subliminal place, he was just happy to be around you again. It was the first time since your initial argument together that he had felt truly peaceful, and he intended on soaking in it.

...that was until you threw a pillow at him.

"Hey!" Steve complained, opening his eyes to glare at you. His heart nearly dropped to the floor when he saw how pretty you looked. You had perfectly styled your hair and put on a full face of makeup, while also donning a business casual outfit that suited you perfectly. Out of habit, Steve tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was having heart palpitations. "You are so mean."

"That was payback!" You explained. "I'm leaving now."

"Are you nervous?" Steve asked, trying to get a read on your emotions.

You watched as he finally got up out of bed. "Not really. Should I be?"

"Not really." Steve shook his head with a polite smile. "Should I be?"

You shrugged your shoulders as he approached you. "Not really."

"Good. Then all is well." He opened his arms for you, and you accepted.

Ugh. You even smelled just as good as you looked.

"As much as I'd like to stay here and hug you forever, I don't think Fury would appreciate it if I was late." You smiled against his chest.

"I think he would be mad at me too" Steve agreed with a chuckle and let you go from his arms. "Any chance you'll tell me your career choice right now before the meeting?"

"No, but I'll tell you when I get out" You giggled.

"Far enough" Steve didn't want to push you. "Good luck, Buggie."

"See you later, Twinkles."

Next Part: True Romantic

Tag List: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

Ruki (on X):

From January to July, so many things have happened.

Amidst the whirlwind of days, I questioned what is right and what is normal? While swaying between emotions and reason, I was constantly making various choices, and desperately running through each day.

In such times, I was supported solely by everyone's concerned voices and the words "I love you."

Thank you always.

And although it's been a while, I wrote on Instagram. I hope this reaches everyone who loves me. ✉️

It's been about two months since my last post.

Seeing the closet still filled with winter clothes, I realized that this year, for me, there was no spring. Time stopped in winter, and then summer came.

I noticed that I had been putting off such a basic thing as living, and I finally did a long-overdue wardrobe change the other day.

Life is built on daily choices, an accumulation of decisions.

Only you can decide if those choices and your life are right or wrong.

The responsibility for your life is yours and yours alone.

I feel that trying to conform to the standards of "normal" for others will only make you feel more miserable when you are going through a tough time.

It's the same for everything; it's okay not to be "normal" as measured by someone else's standards.

No matter the relationship, I believe it's impossible to fully understand all of someone's inner struggles and pain. Fans' pain and our pain, human wounds vary from person to person.

Therefore, the way and speed at which wounds heal also vary for each person. The way you accept things too. It's okay if it's not the same.

Because the heart is a place that cannot be seen from the outside, others can't understand those wounds, and in fact, even we ourselves cannot measure how deep our wounds are.

Everyone, might be forcing a smile on the outside, and when they come home, no one sees the emptiness they are feeling, and they probably don't want to show it to anyone.

The way I've spent my days, I was told, wasn't very human-like, but I think that's okay.

Now, rather than sadness, I feel loneliness.

Because I am human, I know that I will meet them again someday.

So, thinking that way, I am accepting it now.

Although I feel lonely without Koron and Reita, for now, goodbye. This reminded me of when I wrote the lyrics for QUIET.

And when the day comes that we can meet again, I want to live in a way that I'll be told, "You lived a good life."

In reality, there are four of us now, but not as a mere illusion; another face is vividly present in my mind.

So, the feeling of being five members is not a lie. That will surely be forever.

After thinking about it all, I've come to the conclusion that I need to start living each day in a way that will leave a lot of proof that I lived.

I want to create music and things with more love than ever before.

Although my core approach to making music hasn't changed, what I feel I want to draw and leave behind now has changed significantly.

I want to cherish every moment, even the most ordinary ones, like taking pictures of everyday life, going to different places and feeling the scenery, the smells, all the things that I can only feel at that moment.

And if you're feeling overwhelmed right now, I think it’s okay to put everything on hold and take a break without overthinking it. It’s okay to stop pushing yourself for a while.

If I hadn’t taken a step back, I wouldn't have reached this mindset.

Then, bit by bit, listen to music you love, visit places that bring you joy, and heal your heart.

I'm gradually doing that myself too.

I hope everyone can find their own way of healing.

And if this band, the GazettE, can become something that saves or heals even just one person, I will overcome anything.

To me, everyone who waits for us is my reason for living.

The only place where you can let out everything you can't express in daily life, I believe, is at live concerts.

So, I hope we can share that extraordinary space where we can shout and make noise together as much as possible.

I've said it before, but there will be more opportunities to meet from now on. Or rather, I will make them.

I want to increase the time I can enjoy with everyone who loves me, so please wait for it.

Next is Toyosu PIT announcement, so please check it out.

Thank you for reading such a long post. I'll write again

2024.07.18

[sidsinning]

Thinking About Gojo

Thing that’s so sad about Gojo is every time he’s fucked up it’s bc of his humanity- giving Amanai more time to relax as a normal girl made him use his abilities beyond his limit letting Toji gain the upper hand, letting Geto go without killing him after his first massacre, having Geto’s corpse stolen by Kenjaku bc he didn’t cremate him out of respect, being sealed in Shibuya bc of the shock of his best friend appearing in front of him, not sacrificing the human crowd to kill all the special grades immediately- and he blames himself every time it happens and always tries to make up for it, takes responsibility for all of it- bc he HAS to as “The Strongest”

But at the same time, his humanity is what defines the best parts of him in the first place- what’s the point of his strength if not for his friends and students? He would be leading a meaningless empty existence, much like Toji when he met him. Toji was unstoppable (“the one who cast it all aside”) bc all he was focused on was fighting and winning to the best of his ability, holding nothing back no matter how guilty or innocent his victim was- but was extremely depressed and leading a miserable empty life. Just like Gojo, when Toji tapped into the “human” side of himself during battle (his pride), that was what ultimately caused him to lose the fight. Even when Toji came back as a corpse, he “loses” the fight that he would’ve won easily against Megumi if not for the love he has for his son, tapping into his humanity again. The times Toji felt at peace and truly happy at the end of both of his lives was when he was caring for his son- telling Gojo to take care of him, then confirming his abusive family didn’t raise him. Losing his humanity lets him win his battles, but leaves him isolated and aimless. Embracing his humanity fatally kills him, but leaves him happy and fulfilled.

(Gojo also loses his first round against Toji bc he got distracted thinking about protecting Amanai!)

Humanity is what fucks both of them up in battle, but without it, they have nothing but empty strength. They’d just be monsters like Sukuna.

Curse you Gege for making the only thing worth fighting for in their lives their greatest weakness. When I catch you cat man.

Gojo does not have a god complex, though being the strongest has undoubtably made him arrogant…but like who wouldn’t be at his level of power lol? What Gege focuses on when Gojo’s strength is highlighted in the series is how lonely and isolated Gojo felt bc of it. The way he uses his strength very transparently tells you what he actually cares about- the people around him. Gojo wants to laugh with his friends and have a world where his students will not suffer the same trauma as he has. To be able to stand on their own two feet without him. He uses it to protect. Sukuna transparently uses his power to fight powerful opponents and make others suffer.

Think people mistake it as a god complex bc “I am the honored one” and his lowkey sadistic joy of battle- that’s more him feeling good bc he finally gets moments where he can use this freak strength of his he always keeps docile bc he is way too strong for anyone to be a fair match to him 90% of the time. He is a different type of living organism. Pookie just tweaks here and there it’s fine he’s blowing off steam 😊💖 (but fr imagine having all his power and just…sitting all day bc nothing can challenge you) (I think he just be bored and feeling understimulated so he gets a lil too excited when he gets to stretch bye)

He was FORCED to evolve, power wasn’t smtg he was obsessively seeking out. Still isn’t. He wasn’t able to deploy Red or RCT at the beginning of Hidden Inventory, and he didn’t care beyond being a lil frustrated- like having a homework assignment he couldn’t understand. He was happy when both him AND Geto were labeled as The Strongest. He loved having a proper rival for strength- someone to understand him. He values connection with others much more than raw strength.

It’s not a god complex. It’s quite literally him acknowledging the undeniable fact that he is the strongest and having to take care of the world bc of it. He is actively trying not to be the only card to use against curses by training his students. He knows PAINFULLY well that for all the power he has, he is just one man in one body in the end. He cannot be everyone’s trump card everywhere at once. Unfortunately the Shibuya Incident proved this to be the case- when he’s gone everything goes to straight hell, everyone dies, and his students end up traumatized but evolved in power like he did in the past. As well as abandoned by jujutsu society after being used to their marrow.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello dear librarians ! Thanks A LOT for all the work you’re doing for all the merely mortals that love you so much for that ❤️❤️

Can I make a request for a «  praying Crowley » if possible past saison 2 break up? Where we can see Crowley praying to Aziraphale. With or without knowing that the angel listens to him ?

I have done some search for myself. But I am not as good as you … by faaaarr!

So … if you can help me, I would be overjoyed 🥰🥰

Thank you again ❤️

Hi and thank you! Here are some post series two fics in which Crowley prays to Aziraphale...

Mr. Midnight-Rooftop-Boogie-Breakdown by Luciix_66 (G)

That awkward moment when you (demon) leave your ex (not ex, angel) a bunch of drunk texts/voicemail (you're screaming to the heavens at him from the roof and he cant hear you) [or can he????]

consecrated ground by c1rcusfr3ak (NR)

An angel ‘gone native’ that left Earth without a second thought, a demon on his knees in a church, and other such inversions of nature.

What You Had and What You Lost by igoogledyouuh (NR)

When Crowley could feel himself within his body again he was kissing Aziraphale. There was sickening devastation when Crowley opened his eyes to no longer feel Aziraphale’s touch on his shoulder and his cheek and instead the familiar leather of the Bentley’s backseat.

Just Called To Say Fuck You I Love You by Sodium_Azide (E)

Aziraphale discovers that being the Supreme Archangel of Heaven, in Heaven, means that one hears direct prayers. He makes this discovery when a lonely and heartbroken Crowley thinks about his angel during a sad wank session. Evocative imagery, yearning, and visceral appreciation and longing for him do a great deal to bring perspective to an angel who felt cornered into painful choices. Fuck this, he's going home.

i'd come back if you'd just call by johnllauren (T)

Aziraphale chooses to look at Crowley, to peer down into the Earth and check on him. He wonders if Crowley is kneeling somewhere, his hands folded in prayer the human style, a picture of devotion. When Aziraphale looks down upon him, though, this is what he finds: Crowley is sitting in the Bentley, pulled over on the side of the road, bent over the steering wheel, head in his hands, weeping. After Aziraphale leaves, Crowley prays. Aziraphale listens.

Please, please, please, let me get what I want (lord knows it would be the first time) by Middayluna (G)

Crowley was now alone in a world that constantly reminded him that he wasn’t alone that long ago. While drunkenly reminiscing his life from the very beginning, he meanders and finds himself at Whickber Street and prays. Or: the one where a very miserable, heartbroken Crowley prays to Aziraphale.

Prayer for the Lost (and Things that are Left Behind) by ennasthetic (T)

Heaven receives an unlikely prayer. A prayer accountant is having a strange day. ༻❁༺ Or: Crowley is drunk, and heartsick, and hurting, and he does what any human does best when facing off adversity. He prays to Aziraphale.

- Mod D

[sciderman]

ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!

Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.

Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.

I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.

I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3

hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...

i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)

i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.

it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...

[fudanshidoublevision]

“Nostalgia”.

(A Double Vision x Reader fanfiction for Children's Day.)

⚠️ C. W: Mentions of unhealthy and abusive relationships, abusive households, neglect, implied (but not toooooooo described) bullying and harassment, depressive thoughts, LOTS of reminiscing and reflection, death, dubious living conditions. It's implied Reader has only a PRESENT mother and a family. With who Reader ended up with is left ambiguous on purpose and up to you but I'm letting you have the “sweet good ending” with whoever you end up with. Swearing but not too heavy. Talks about suicide. Emotional dependency and such. If Reader posses an ability isn't discussed or even implied.

It's odd how so much can change in what seems...nothing, out of nowhere. The fact that so many time has passed is scary. Some things in our lives had changed, evolved, stayed the same or just died.

I never thought that I would become an adult, I never had so much expectations in life, honestly.

I never thought I would make this far.

Even if I was only rotting in one place and doing nothing, something my mother said that it couldn't be even considered “living”. I was just trying not to do something I could regret forever instead of digging up too much in my thoughts, I just laid there not thinking or even feeling anything.

I think she never realized that I wasn't living, that we weren't living rather that i— we, were surviving.

But for some reason you always stayed.

Even when I stopped acting like myself. Even when everyone I used to care for just, disappeared from my life because I wasn't putting an effort into taking care of our relationship. Even when I became the worst version of myself. Even when I didn't deserved anything or anyone in my life.

You always stayed, Vernon.

You were my ride or die since the fateful day that I saved you.

Well, I didn't do much really, I didn't really saved you, I just prevented something that any other living being with morals would want to avoid to happen, right? I was going through your same situation after all... Hah, we both had to endure all of that until we finished school together. I know so well how it feels to be hopeless, everyone ignoring what they are doing to you, everyone watching, yet no one doing something about it.

I always thought that you would never had ever wished or even desired to make others feel like that. But, for some reason, you ended up being just like them.

I believe that I'll never understand why you changed so much or if you were always like that, I was aware of your strange behavior and dependency on me but I never thought much of it because that's how you always behaved around me. Heh, I ignored every single red flag and warning that was thrown in my face just for the sake to hold onto you, because you were someone dear to me, someone that always had been there for me.

You were the highlight of my childhood and my teenage years, even if we kinda drifted away in the latest. You were even there when I was the grown, sad and miserable version of the kid you used to know.

Is it bad that i still hold dearly and warmly those moments we had as kids? Like the days were everything in my household...just was horrible and I didn't know where or to who run to, somehow I always ended up in your house, you always opened the door to me, no matter what or why.

Your own home seemed so cold from the outside and on the inside but...when we were together, everything just felt warmer.

...Or the times were you used your abilities to save our asses or just to escape to somewhere, anywhere, when I was locked down in my own room and you were so lonely and bored in your cold and empty house.

Go to anywhere we wanted, as long as no one of our parents got to know that we were running around the streets like not-so-sneaky rats. Hell, even your very-dangerous use of your ability saved us from being late to class. We could have done better things with it but we were young and really, really stupid.

When I used to ride my bicycle, you had to steal my seat and I had uncomfortably sit on the center bar but quickly forgot about that because anything with you just felt right, your presence used to make me so happy and I tended to forget everything, we used to have so much fun with such mundane and stupid things. When we used to drive that crappy bicycle to a concerning speed just to feel like we were flying like those heroes we used to adore and we used to imagine we were.

The times me and my family celebrated your birthday because you were like another member in my family. You were like a brother to me.

Or the times you bought me any silly or meaningless thing that I wanted to me for my birthday because you knew how much that day it used to meant to me. And how much you it meant to me your presence...and your gifts, hehe.

Nostalgia is a powerful drug.

In times like these, i look fondly at the times that you were there by and with me, even when I was talked down, thrown, dragged and abused to my core when we were “living the best and important part of our lives”.

Even if you were being neglected by the ones who were supposed to be protecting us and left alone by your own devices, money being thrown at you like that could compensate the hole they left behind.

We could only hold each other in silence because talking about it brought so much pain to our little hearts and heads.

I'm glad the two of us made it out, together. I will always be grateful of that but nothing good seemed to last in our lives since we started to became more mature.

You changed or more like, you just became the true version of yourself.

Maybe it's an exaggeration but whoever was talking to me with your voice, while using your clothes, saying things only you could only ever knew... That wasn't you, i refused to believe that was you.

Someone else stripped you down from your humanity. Of what made you, you.

But, no. That was you, with the same stupid face, the same idiotic and cocky attitude of always, your signature dimples and that mole in your face but you insisted, no, forced me to call you “Double Vision”.

For some reason, that silly and simple nickname i used to call you by stopped to came out of my mouth.

“V”.

Vernon.

Now, you were only Double Vision and nothing else, the person I used to know, gone and forgotten to do things I never thought you could be capable of doing. Not like I was innocent or had a squeaky clean historial, we were partners in crime, after all.

I was scared and just wanted to, stop. You were more erratic, territorial, temperamental when it was about me. You didn't wanted me to engage with anyone, even if it seemed that you trusted the other members of the Night Crew.

You didn't, you never did.

When we argued in front of everyone because you wouldn't let me go, that day someone died, because of me, because of my fault.

Seeing you taking the life out of someone that just wanted to be on my side, for you to let me go and being unable of doing something because I...just didn't know what to do, I was scared.

I had to force myself to accept the so-harsh truth.

The person I used to know.

You.

Was long gone and he will never come back.

Or just the the version I used to know, I'm not sure if you were genuine with anything about yourself with me, since we were kids.

Was it everything a lie? Were you just holding back until the day I was completely alone and with no one or nothing but you to drag me down with you, no matter what or who tried to get in between?

Even if you did all of this out of the selfish desire of having me all by yourself, some part of me can't quite forget you or stop thinking about you.

Since the day I could escape from you and stay with someone who felt...love for me, I began to forget little by little of you but for some reason, a part of my me doesn't want to forget you.

It hurts me deeply, to think of you. I feel a heavy pressure in my chest and my heart, when I remember you. That you exist and that you used to mean so much to me.

Things could have gone better, right? Is it wrong for me to think that things could have been different, if something, anything, was slightly different when you weren't trying to cut an arm, a finger or take one of my eyes just to have me by your side?

I wish I could only save and stay with the happy memories we made together but the person in those memories doesn't look like you at all, that's not you.

I miss you my dear bestfriend, sometimes.

But I wish we never had met each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜

AUTHOR'S NOTE???

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO PUT AN AUTHOR'S NOTE......? Doesn't matter, right?

Thank you so much for reading! And happy children's day! Even if you don't celebrate it today or don't, at all. I hope you enjoyed it! Any type of criticism is welcome...but, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, don't be so hard on me, okay? Be gentle, please.（┬┬＿┬┬)

English isn't my native language and I mostly write only for myself all these years and never shared my writing but I'm trying to learn and get better everyday! Don't think so lowly of me. ᶘಠᴥಠᶅ

I kind of wanted to write something fifty percent wholesome and fifty percent angsty. So, I just had this monster in my head nagging me to write something about childhood, memories and the horror of growing up. And, woah! What a day to post this. Plus, ABOUT DOUBLE???? SIGN ME UP, BELOVED MONSTER IN MY HEAD!

I used my own headcanons to write this thing, that's why Reader calls “V”, referenced to my first post ever. I double (HEHE), triple, quadruple checked if this had any mistakes, so wake me up if there's a mistake I missed, thank you very much.

I have 13 drafts about Double that will stay in that cold and deadly place.....

Anyways, I stayed up all night writing this because of that horrifying monster... I NEED to go to sleep.

Double haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa????? I love you!!!!! ♡ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

[inbarfink]

I'm pretty sure my very first post about 'Fionna and Cake' was about pointing out this line in "Fionna Campbell"

Is a reference to "I Remember You", where Marceline said that very same line to Ice King

At the time I just took it as another little bit of Foreshadowing for the connection between Fionnaworld and Simon.

But now that we've established a bit more about Cake's plights, and I started thinking more about this... I wonder if this line is meant to highlight the ways in which Simon's struggles under the Curse of the Magic Crown and Cake's struggles after having her Magic taken away from her kinda mirror each other.

You know, turning into Ice King took away Simon's mind and ability to reason (by pumping his brain full of Madness and Sadness) and his ability to communicate (by tanking his already-kinda-awkward communication skills) and even kinda took away his body.

And becoming an ordinary cat did all of these things for Cake as well - took away her mind and ability to reason (by giving her an intelligence closer to a regular housecat) and her ability to communicate (by making her unable to speak or even comprehend human speech)

And taking away her voice and the Stretchy body that is clearly the one she feels most comfortable with.

And ... so what happened in that scene back in IRY is Ice King, in the middle of writing a love song about Princess Bubblegum, suddenly has a moment of Clarity about how lonely and miserable he is. Enough Clarity to know that he's unfathomably sad and that there's something Wrong with him that's sabotaging all of his relationship - but not enough clarity to know what it is. So he just... has a total breakdown

Lashing out and throwing ice magic anywhere. Then Marceline, uncomfortable and worried about Ice King's behavior, tackles him and says the Line.

Meanwhile, in the first episode of 'Fionna and Cake'...

Both Fionna and Cake feel like there's something off about their lives, But Fionna can at least articulate it better as like, general ennui or a quarter-life crisis, rather than Cake's little housecat mind not really comprehending or capable of fully expressing what she's feeling at all.

Leading to concerning behavior such as her apparently not eating for the last three days.

And suddenly, she has her moment of Clarity. She sees these Portal Sparkles and she seems to know on some level that they'll do something good for her. Especially as she tries to shove her head in the ice

And later is shown obsessed with ice in general - even without the sparkles directly being around.

On some level, Cake understands the mechanics of the Portal Sparkles better than Fionna does - but on all other levels she's still a housecat and probably has no idea what is going on with her own mind as well.

And from Fionna's perspective she's just acting weird and spreading ice all over the house and lashing out at her in her confusion over her own feelings.

I think, perhaps whatever part of Simon's subconscious has subtle control over Fionnaworld noticed the similarities between Cake's situation and his own memories of being the Ice King - and thus, Marceline's old words coming out of Fionna's mouth.

The similarities don't end there, either. Cake and Simon both have to go through a lot grief with people still treating them as their old selves. General folks in Ooo treating Simon like Ice King

And Fionna's tendency to be overprotective of Cake even though Cake is now an incredibly OP shapeshifter and Fionna's still just an athletic human

And to speak for her even though she can speak for herself now

And sometimes kinda condescending to her about her own judgement

All make Cake feel, and not unjustifiably so, that Fionna still sees her as her old self, as a Housecat. She literally says so in the same episode where Fionna and Cake's friendship is tested the most.

And Cake's anxious desire to bring Magic into her world even after it was confirmed that she can at least stay as herself in Fionnaworld, I think that's also a mirror of Simon's anxieties. Simon felt like he, an ordinary non-magical man, could never truly fit in within the wacky and magical world of Ooo

And Cake might've been afraid of the same being true in reverse about being a Magical Cat in the least Magical world in the whole multiverse. At the very least she must've been worried about being forced to pretend to be a non-magical cat again like Simon tried to make her do back in Farmworld.

(Remember how her failure to pull this off almost got her eaten?)

And in the end, the resolution to both of these mirror dilemma was... kind of the same? Well, sort of. Fionnaworld now has a bit more of the Magic and Weirdness in it but it's not like Simon made Mainworld Ooo less wacky. But even with that extra bit of Multiverse Wackiness going on in Fionnaworld now... if the Normal Guy can get along among the strange and magical creatures

The Magical Cat can get along with all the normal and mundane people.

[je5hko]

MICHAEL DE SANTA HEADCANONS‼️‼️

hcs because he’s a baby girl and i love him very much

TW: angst, suicide

He absolutely loves showering and skin/hair care, this dude is fucking obsessed with it.

As i said in my other post, he CANNOT STAND the fur from animals. I believe he has an allergy, so whenever he’s around Chop, he yells at Franklin to go home with him, while sneezing very fucking loud in the middle of sentence.

He’s in denial of being depressed, even though he’s diagnosed. Also, he will not be taking any sorts of meds. Pain killers, anti-depressants, antibiotics. He hates them.

He had lots of suicide attempts while being drunk, he won’t admit it though. And most of the time he won’t even remember if he had any attempt, one time he just woke up with a gun on his lap and a broken whiskey glass.

Amanda knows that Michael had those “attempts”, and that he has suicidal tendencies. But she doesn’t do anything about it, she thinks he’s doing this to piss her off. (She pushes sway the thought that he might khs someday)

Absolutely adores physical touch from his loved ones. He might seem like he doesn’t like it at first, but inside he melts under a warm touch. Hes a pookie isnt he?

He misses being Michael Townley, he absolutely hates the way he is now. He feels old, miserable and lonely. Even though he has some “friends” he can hang out with, he never seems fully understood by them. Sure he can talk to them about his problems, but he needs them to understand what he’s feeling, give him comfort. Michael Townley didnt feel sad because of his appearance and living situation, sure there was up and downs but he rarely regretted things. He misses being him.

Loves chocolate. Will eat anything that is covered in it. Starting with bananas and strawberries, ending with a fucking tomato.

He also tried to talk to amanda about his suicidal thoughts, that he might be not good enough and he understands her why shes cheating on him. It turned into an argument about their marriage, and that it would be better if they’d have a divorce since he’s not able to treat her right. After that they slept in a separate rooms, and not talked to each other for days.

THATS ALL FOR NOW!!! I LOVE YALL

[celefrfr]

hiii!! can i get an angst to comfort joost fic where the reader is just having a really hard time lately w everything. like family, work, and just everything in general is stressing her/them out so they get really distant bc they feel bad about burdening joost and joost jusr shows up at their apartment and is like “why” and they break down in tears and it ends all fluffy?

February i almost died.

notes: this is actually a bit gotten from a real story, i removed the happy part of it , made parts different , and i just added joost lol, im good now, dont villanize my mom, she was very sad too because she knew i was always crying, shes a good person

summary: literally look at the request 👍

relationship:joost×fem!reader

WARNING! theres a part where Y/N commits sh (head banging)

Reader was always a very clingy person to Joost, always texting him, asking him to hang out, going to restaurants, but, november came, her mental health started to go down, she felt lonely, like nobody wanted her, like she was a burden, she never spoke, whenever she did she'd get ignored, she always argued with her parents, she made each of them cry at least once, she was guilty, she was close to running away from everyone and never coming back, the only thing stopping her was that she didnt have any money to use, one day, she was in her room listening to music, bawling her eyes out, in fetal position,her mom came in, she kinda screamed "go shower, and do your room." her voice cold "CANT YOU SEE HOW DOING RIGHT NOW?" Y/N screamed back "Y/N, youre never happy." her mom left and closed the door, Y/N got up, and slammed her head into the wall twice, she got white flashes each time, joost lived in an apartment, attached to hers, he could hear the banging, the crying, the screaming, as Y/N was pacing back and forth in her room just crying, joost was trying to find her , she didnt want to be a burden to him, so she ran to a public bathroom and just cried there, her eyes were already puffy from the day before since she cried everyday, when she calmed down, she went back to her house and into her room, just to find joost talking with her parents, he was almost screaming, arguing "YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER IS ON THE VERGE OF KILLING HERSELF OR RUNNING AWAY AND WHAT DO YOU DO? OH YEAH, LETS SCREAM AT HER A BIT MORE, MAYBE SHE WILL BE HAPPY, WHERE IS YOUR COMMON SENSE?" he yelled, her dad yelled back "SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF A VICTIM,SHE NEVER LISTENS" joost didnt even answer, he noticed her rooms door closing so he ran and found her on her bed, staring into nothingness "what happened?" he asked, his tone concerned, he was almost gonna cry too, Y/N didnt answer, she just fell into his arms,crying, she showed him the mark of her head on the wall to him, he didn't say anything, he just packed her bags and got her to his house, made her favorite tea, atleast attempted to, since it was an ethnic recipe, put it near his bed, and got with her, trying to comfort her, he held her to his chest, she gave him a faint kiss on the cheek, the stubble hurting her face a bit, she didnt care, since it was him "Why didnt you tell me anything?" he asked "i didnt want to be a burden to you." she answered, he didnt say anything, just hugged her, he saw her eyes getting heavy, almost falling asleep on him, she looked so cute but so miserable, the only things keeping her alive were him and her phone, he kissed her, and told her "just know that if you even ran away i would find you and come with you.", the period of her life that went from november to february finally ended, she was there, felt happy, loved, for once.