#but he actually never says any of that stuff and is so emotionally closed off and scared all the time

[bluegarners]

writing from bruce's perspective

[hearts4golbach]

ABC fluff headcanons for carrington??

ABC Fluff Headcanons.

pairing:

Carrington x Fem!Reader.

a/n:

not proofread

warnings:

sexual stuff mentioned

word count:

1.2k.

A- affection. (How affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

he is so affectionate. sometimes you have to pry him off of you when you need to go to work or leave.

B- Best friend. (What would they be like as best friend? How would the friendship start?)

literally your dream best friend. you'd have the kind of friendship where you don't really know when it started, but you're super close and that's what matters. you'd run around and record with him all the time. you two would be like Jake and Johnnie, but y/n and Carrington. :).

C- Cuddles. (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

he loves cuddling. he loves being as close to you as possible and would never let go of you if he had a choice. spooning is his favorite. sometimes he lets you be the big spoon, and he loves it more than he'd like to admit.

D- domestic. (Do they want to settle down? are they good at cooling and cleaning?)

he definitely would want to settle down after a little while. he's pretty average at cleaning, and cooking isn't one of his strong suits. he'd learn to make your favorite meals perfectly, though. eventually, a few certain meals made by him would feel gourmet.

E- ending. (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

truthfully, he wouldn't be able to face you if he wanted to break up. he'd call or text, but most likely not break up with you in person.

F- fiance. (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Carrington thinks marriage is useless. he'd rather get you a promise ring and call you his wife instead of being legally married. Commitment doesn't scare him, but he thinks marriage is unnecessary.

G- gentle. (how gentle are they, both emotionally and phsyically?)

Carrington wouldn't hurt a fly. he's very gentle, even though he's very rambunctious. he knows how to comfort you, so there's never conflict. he doesn't treat you like you could break at any moment, but he is in fact very gentle. to him, you're more precious than anything and anyone and wants to prevent losing.

H- hugs. (Do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

you usually hug him first, and he always appreciates it. he squeezes you tight. he lives when you hug him so he can smell the new shampoo you've been trying or your signature perfume that reminds him of your first date.

I- I love you. (how fast do they say the L-word?)

he'd say it pretty soon in the relationship, most likely before the 3 month mark. he doesn't go throw the phrase 'i love you' around. if he says it, he means it.

J- jealousy. (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

he gets extremely jealous. no questions. he doesn't care who it is or what the situation is, he always gets jealous over the smallest things. he's not overbearing, though.

K- kisses. (What are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you?)

his kisses are actually magical. his lips are very soft, for sure. he loves to kiss your lips, that's his favorite. he also loves kissing your stomach (especially when he goes down on you) and your neck, of course.

L- little ones. (How are they around children?)

since he acts like a little kid (sometimes) he's amazing with children. if it's not annoying kid, he has fun whenever he's entertaining them. he loves to entertain people in general, and kids are probably the easiest to do so.

M- morning. (How are mornings spent with them?)

'you rested your head on Carringtons bare chest, cuddling up closer to him. it was a cool morning, if 11 am is considered morning, and you were laying in bed comfortably with your boyfriend. one hand gently scratched your back while the other ran through your hair. he loved spending the mornings like this.'

N- Night. (how are nights spent with them?)

whenever you stay the night, he loves having mini dates. whether you order out, make dinner, watch a movie, or just cuddle he never leaves your side. especially since his schedule is super busy, he gives you his full attention.

O- open. (when would they start revealing things about themselves? would they say everything all at once or slowly reveal things?)

if you're open with him, he's open with you. hell come to you about problems and you do the same. he tries very hard to communicate effectively and in a healthy way.

P- patience. (how easily annoyed are they?)

you two go around annoying eachother. since your humor aligns, it's hard to really annoy him.

Q- quizzes. (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail or easily forget aspects of you?)

his brain sucks up every little detail about you like a sponge. he knows you like the back of his hand.

R- remember. (what's their favorite moment of your relationship?)

his favorite moment would be the first time you played minecraft on stream with him. that night caused so many inside jokes to be created. gaming together really strengthened your bond.

S- security. (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

he is veryyy protective. someone looks at you in any suggestive way? he makes sure it's known that you're his. if someone is threatening you, he's ready to take a bullet. he really loves it when you protect him from hate online, but he doesn't need that kind of help.

T- try. (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he loves celebrating any tiny event. whether it's a birthday, anniversary, collab, promotion, you two are celebrating. whether it's in bed or a small get together, it's recognized. Celebrating anniversaries is one way he shows how he loves you. he brings you little gifts and trinkets from the places he records or events he goes to.

U- ugly. (What would some bad habits of theirs be?)

whenever he sleeps in, he just gives up the whole day. he spends the rest of the day being lazy in bed (if his schedule allows.) he also has a habit of being exactly 2 minutes late to almost everything.

V- vanity. (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he's always overparanoid about his looks, especially around you. he knows he's somewhat attractive, but always wants to look the best he can. he wants to be perfect around you.

W- whole. (would they feel incomplete without you?)

is this even a question? you're his other half, and if you're not with him he's not totally himself.

X- Xtra. (a random head canon for them.)

sleeps with socks on. you hate it when you're cuddling and his clothed foot tickles your leg.

Y- yuck. (What are some things they wouldn't like?)

he is definitely not the type of boy to go on outdoorsy dates. in the city, it's hard to do so and he doesn't enjoy them.

Z- ZZZ. (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

he'll either sleep in until noon or wake up at 6 in the morning. there is no in-between for him. he talks to himself while he sleeps. he'd be sleeping and you'd hear "boi what the hell boi?"

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: arachnophobes beware, there is a spider in this one (it’s fairly early into the chap tho) (also v tiny boi, not even really described). Summer has arrived! No other notes for this one, lovelies ♥ except some more second-hand embarrassment. A bit more Suguru focused in this one ♥ Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2 WC: 14k

“Has this house really been abandoned for only 20 years?” You grunted as you forced a scraper under a crumpled section of a newspaper that might as well have been glued to the ground on purpose. Your arms trembled from the strain, knuckles drained of blood, your hands fighting for their lives to finally free the paper of its wooden prison.

With a shallow yelp from you, the scraper came loose, only taking a quarter of the browned paper with it. The section ripped partially through the head of a baseball player, giving him a rather unfortunate face lift.

“That’s what everyone says,” Suguru confirmed as he worked on scrubbing a chunk of the floor like he was trying to avenge someone. His nose wrinkled in disgust when he lifted the rag and observed the dark grime stuck to it. “I asked my gran, she said that she can’t remember the family’s name, something starting on ‘Fu’. Father, mother, and their son. The mother was diagnosed with some sort of illness that the village doctor couldn’t manage, so they had to go to the city.”

“Oh,” you frowned as you sat back on your heels. “Did she survive?”

He shrugged, dipping the rag into the bucket of once clean water beside him. “No idea. They weren’t super close with any of the villagers here, so there weren’t any updates after they left. I assume she didn’t, since they never returned here.”

“That’s sad,” you spoke low as you tossed the piece of ew away in the bag beside you. “I hope they’re okay, one way or another.”

The two of you worked together in the living room, peeling useless bits of goo and gunk to clean the house inch by inch. You'd already finished with the first pass of the kitchen, hallway, and master bedroom. After getting the go-ahead from Uncle Han a bit ago (you felt weird calling him that, but he insisted), you decided to start indoors to spare yourselves from the ever rising sun. With summer approaching, the lawn had been dealt with promptly, the three of you moving through it surprisingly speedily with teamwork.

Satoru, for all his rich boy credit, was actually helping. You were honestly expecting him to maybe work for five minutes, then laze around and whine about being bored, but you were pleasantly surprised by his productivity.

For one, he’d been gathering various architecture and designer house catalogues; stuff that was in, stuff that was out, and everything in between. Whatever might strike your fancy, he was there to offer his input, whether asked or not. You could tell he was having fun showing off expensive house designs, even if it was way too early to be looking at paint colors and matching furniture. He was acting like it was his house that was getting renovated.

He was also helpful with the physical labor portion of fixing this mess up, putting those beefy biceps to good use. He’d done some wondrous work in the kitchen.

That’s not to say he didn’t whine about boredom and hardship and whatnot, but at least he was working while doing so.

Presently, he was in the smaller room opposite to the master bedroom, addressing the tatami issue. Said issue being that the material was practically cemented to the floor below, strangely crunchy for being stiff as a brick, and very much showing its age.

He was experimenting with various methods for prying it off, at his own assertion. It gave him the opportunity to lean into that primal urge to break shit, and who were you to take that away from him?

Every few minutes, you’d hear a muted thud, some strangled noises, and a delightful little swear here and there. You’d learned that he quite hated tatami as a kid, annoyed that he had to be careful with it. He was grumpy that he couldn’t run about and stomp his feet like the spoiled child he was because it’d get damaged, then his folks would get mad. Now, he had the perfect excuse to take all that pent up anger out on some actual tatami.

“You think he’s having fun in there?” You asked as you lifted off another slice of the paper, turning it around in the tight pinch you held it in. Most of the words had faded off or bled from whatever liquid got onto it years prior. You could barely make out a cut-off phrase that made you snort. Left fielder is short!

Suguru sneered at the floor. “I sure hope not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not having fun, so he doesn’t get to have fun, either.”

You rubbed your cheek against your shoulder, fighting the desire to scratch at the itch with your grubby, dirty hands. “Are boys always at each other’s throats like this?”

“Yes,” he answered bluntly, earning a half-laugh, half-cough from you.

You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head as he got up, stripping off his yellow rubber gloves. “I’m not going to back out now after saying I’d help you. I’m gonna keep my word to you. But, I will go grab a drink and think about my life choices outside for a few minutes.”

You breathed out through your nose and waved lazily at him as he stepped out of the open front door, disappearing behind the wall. It was his idea to bring some options for hydration with him, and you lauded him as a genius for it. Even if a quarter of the options were cheap beer. 

Deciding you earned yourself a break, too, you tossed whatever else you managed to free from the floor away, along with your gloves, and got up, shaking out your numb legs with a wince. Ow.

Sure, you’d done next to nothing compared to Suguru, but, oh, your back and arms felt so sore. Poor you. He could forgive you, couldn’t he?

Figuring you should check on Satoru, you trod down the hallway and stopped in the open doorway of the room he was occupying. He was turned halfway towards you, hunched over as he scratched aggressively at the floor with something you could only tell was made of metal. Sweat stuck to his forehead in a thick layer, droplets beading and running down his temples and the curve of his jaw. White hairs were plastered to his cheeks and brow, pale lashes clumped together, lips pulled into a wide grin.

A shiver dashed up your spine.

He looked positively feral.

You should probably leave him be, you didn’t want to get caught in his crossfire, lest you end up the target of his destructive goal. 

You began to creep away, easing off the doorframe, hoping to avoid–

“Mochi!”

Damnit.

“Heyyy, buddy,” you greeted cautiously, meeting his gaze. His winter blues were alight with an untamed sort of fervor, sunglasses folded into the collar of his button-up. Had the moisture on the small of your back always been there? “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“It’s fuckin’ stubborn, but look!” He waved frantically to a boxy pile of…something. Vaguely tan and clumpy and gross. Listen, you weren’t very peeved out by nasty stuff as a kid, but even child you wouldn’t dare touch it.

Gojo, meanwhile, looked ecstatic, seemingly having figured out a method that worked. More or less.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a watery smile. Mainly because you were afraid that he’d pounce on you with that brutish glint in his intense stare if you didn’t show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his hard work.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, a smidge stiffly. “You’re doing a great job!”

Satoru ate that shit up. He glowed, preening under your praise, even if it felt like you were talking to a six-year-old kiddo wielding a hammer.

“I know!” He cheered. “This is fun!”

You questioned how long that zeal would last. You also debated whether or not you should tell Suguru that the maniac was having fun. You were curious to see what would happen, but you didn’t want to get dragged into the potential brawl they’d have.

The boy in front of you was panting, the collar of his shirt dampened by the droplets of effort he wiped off with it, and the temperature outside was rapidly rising. As hot as this image was, minus the eugh-factor of your house, you weren’t keen on him dying of exhaustion and leaving you short one extra pair of hands.

How noble of you.

“Wanna come take a break with me and Suguru?” You asked.

He glanced at where he paused his work, back to you, the floor, then you one more time before nodding. “Yeaaah, I did a lot, I deserve a lil’ break.”

He groaned as he pushed on his knees and rose up, absently dusting the front of his pants. You rolled your eyes at his show of theatrics, what with him stretching and whining. Not like you were any better, though.

“C’mon, you big baby,” you stepped out of the doorway, rotating to make your way down the hall. 

That was, until you noticed something on the wall beside you. A black dot, or speck you hadn't seen before. A stain, perhaps; a blotch, something dark stuck to the old paint. You could've gotten it dirty(ier) while you were cleaning at some point. You leaned closer to try and decipher it, squinting–

Legs. 

Not two, four, or six. Eight legs.

With a gagged gasp, you screeched and immediately booked it out of the house, adrenaline pumping through your system at mach speed. You nearly slipped as you banked the corner, your sights set on the open front door.

The blinding white of day was burning into your retinas, but you couldn’t care, you needed to get the hell out! 

Instinctively, you threw yourself into a surprised Suguru’s arms the moment you stepped past the threshold as he peeked into the house, concerned by the commotion. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, then released a humorous chuckle as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Sturdy, strong, safe.

“There, there,” he soothed, stroking a hand up and down your back, fingertips pressing into pressure points along your vertebrae. It was easy enough for him to figure out what got you so panicked. “You’re alright, it’s just a spider. I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Oh, my god!” You squealed and shook like a leaf, air whistling past your larynx. “Suguru! It’s giant!”

He cooed sweetly at you, obviously entertained by your frazzled state. “It won’t hurt you, you’re fine.”

“I am not fine!”

His laugh rumbled low in his chest, right under your ear as you squeezed the life out of him. “I can’t remove it for you if you don’t let me go, angel.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

Suguru opened his mouth to respond, only to get preemptively cut off by a girlish scream originating from within the house. Seconds later, Satoru was dashing out, colliding directly with you and Suguru. A mix of stifled noises of shock erupted, and all three of you toppled right over onto the hard-packed soil.

Suguru’s arms encased more firmly around your form when Satoru tackled you, one thick arm coming to cradle the back of your head while the other constricted your waist until you were pressed immovably to his front. He pillowed your fall, even though it meant taking the brunt force of the ground’s swift ascent by himself. Satoru collapsed on top of you, leaving you sandwiched between the pair.

This was not how you imagined you’d experience your first yukadon. 

Cheek pillowed by a rigid tit. Spine crushed by a dense body. Lungs utterly squashed. Lavender, cypress, and musk overwhelming your olfactory senses. Super sexy.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru?” Suguru hissed out, voice strained with pain, compression, and thinly-veiled anger.

“It’s fuckin’ huge, Suguru!” Satoru shrieked back. “Massive! Like, a meter long!”

Amber eyes glared over your head, still clutched to his pec. “Get the hell off, you’re crushing her. And me. You’re heavy as fuck.”

Gojo lifted himself up enough to peer at you, blinked, then laid right back down on top of you. Your wheeze of suffering did nothing to deter him. “But this is so comfy.”

“I will castrate you,” your personal airbag threatened.

Cyan eyes filled with spite as he finally rolled off of you and to the side, allowing Geto to loosen his hold until you could breathe freely. While Satoru was busy grumbling to himself and looking for his glasses, the pair having been flung off in the clamor, Suguru gazed down at you with worry pooled in his softened hues.

“You okay?” He asked.

You wiggled your toes and fingers, then nodded. “Thanks to you. I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he put away your disquiet with a smile.

You frowned at his attempt at paying no heed to the subject. “That was a pretty bad fall.”

He snorted. “I work on a farm and grew up with Satoru. I’d hardly consider that a fall.”

“Oi!” Speak of the devil. The snow-haired boy had located his glasses, it seemed, as they were resting on the bridge of his nose, free of dirt and dust by some miracle. “Get up already, lovebirds.”

Fire exploded across your cheeks and the tips of your ears as you realized the position you were in – straddling your friend’s waist, chest-to-chest, his strong arms enclosing you to keep you close. 

You yelped and scrambled out of his hold, keenly aware that you were only able to leap off of him and stagger away because he let you do so. He was laughing breathlessly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, endeared by your embarrassed reaction. He grabbed the hand his best friend offered him, their palms clapping as he got tugged onto his feet.

Meanwhile, you were fanning your face in a hopeless attempt to cool the steam lifting from your head, swearing up and down that it was the budding summer heat and not because you got stacked like pancakes by two unreasonably attractive men.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

The sun.

The literal sun, not the sun incarnated in the form of a man that was currently busy brushing off his pants, aided by Satoru clearing his back of debris.

Thank the gods you had tossed the murderous stepping stones off to one corner of the house just a few days prior. You did not want to think about what would have happened to Suguru’s pretty body if you hadn’t.

“You sure you’re okay?” The above-mentioned man with said pretty body called out to you.

You startled in place and cried out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hot!” Fuck. “I-I mean, it’s– it’s hot! Outside! Right now! We should, uh, stop here for the day!”

Good save.

Dumbass.

You would have smacked your own head with a brick if it wouldn’t attract their attention and make them think you were crazy. Or worse. Turned on.

Suguru and Satoru shared a glance, exchanging in a silent conversation, then Satoru was walking over to the bag of snacks the former brought along, digging around it for a can of soda. He retrieved a separate can of light booze for the other boy, passing it along as they both shortened the distance between you. 

“You sure you wanna call it for the day?” Geto asked, his drink opening with an acute crack and tss, shortly followed by Gojo’s. Thank God they seemed to worn to tease you for your slip up.

Breathing deeply to settle your nerves, you dipped your head twice. “Yeah, it’s starting to get too hot for me.”

For too many damn reasons.

He hummed, sipping his drink as he peered at the chalk-haired boy, who took a sizable gulp in comparison. “Fine by me,” he ground out past the tingle of carbonation, fingers threading through damp, white tresses. “I don’t wanna die of heatstroke.”

“How about we head to the park, then?” Suguru suggested as he stepped away to shut the front door, like that’d prevent intruders or something. The extra security was unneeded, the house itself was enough of a deterrent. “We can stop at Granny’s on the way.”

“Sure,” you assented rather easily. You liked the park. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the flora there, sounded like a wonderful idea.

Satoru was not as keen. “In this heat? No way.”

His best friend patted his shoulder, gulping down a swig of his drink before responding. “You gotta touch grass at least once in a while, dude. C’mon, it won’t be so bad.”

“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“You’re not gonna die, don’t be a drama queen,” he said pragmatically.

You simpered to yourself as you went to grab Suguru’s backpack, zipping it up to keep everything inside. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself more by spilling everything. You grabbed one of the straps, ready to hoist it over your shoulder, just for a big hand to grab it by the top handle and tug it out of your palms.

You didn’t even get a second to prepare to fight for it, the coarse material easily slipping from your grip in a pathetic display of weakness. Your guard wasn’t up. You never stand a chance.

Your head snapped up to find Geto himself, his bag resting against his back as he held it by that same handle, fingers half-closed near his shoulder. He gave you a charming grin, eyes squinted from the squish of his cheeks. 

“Hey!” You gaped, hopping up to your feet. “I can carry it, I’m not helpless!”

The hell you aren’t.

He tipped his head back to finish off his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing and causing more sweat to form on your brow, then tucked the empty can into his pocket to properly toss out later. “You aren’t,” he agreed, ruffling your hair affectionately with his now free hand, “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady do all the work?”

All the work? You barely did any work. But, you did like being called lovely, so you supposed you could let it go this once.

Satoru scoffed. “Gentleman? You watched Shoko lug a heavy ass box of shit up two flights of stairs just last week. Hardly call that gentlemanly.”

“You think I’m going anywhere near Shoko and her medical supplies?” Honey-toned irises shifted from you to him. “Hell no. She’d have my head on a pike if I even got close to them.”

“You won’t hold the door open for Utahime,” he accused.

“I’ve held the door for her before. The only person I wouldn’t hold the door for is you, Satoru,” Suguru’s hand drifted to rest below the nape of your neck, scorching the exposed skin there.

He pressed lightly, urging you to start walking with them in the direction of town.

The 6’3” child moped, his eyes drooping. “My own best friend hates me. Practically my brother, and he wants me to die.”

Geto rolled his eyes and bent down to stage-whisper to you. “Drama queen.”

“I heard that!” Satoru exclaimed.

“That was the point.”

You sighed with levity, shaking your head. “Could you two at least try to not kill each other until we get to Granny’s?”

“No promises,” they both responded in unison.

They bickered back and forth over your head, one using you as a shield while the other used you as an excuse to ‘behave’. Not that it stopped either of them from hurling immature threats and insults, each one making you think about how a butterfly felt more scary than either of them.

Or, your presence was taming them after all, and they were more vicious when they didn’t have someone standing guard. What would happen if you were on the other side of one of them? Would the result be the same?

Since when were you into psychology?

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into your cheek, bringing you back to the present, where your trio was crossing over the bridge. “Don’t zone out. Pay attention to me.”

You sent the offending boy a sidelong glance, meeting his intensely cobalt, insisting stare, yet he reveled in it all the same. Attention was attention.

“I’m not zoning out,” liar, “I’m just thinking.”

“About what? About us?” He teased, poking your cheek again.

He squawked and jumped back when you bluffed a strike at him, your teeth snapping dangerously close to his finger.

“Not like that!” He hissed, nursing his finger to his chest. He went as far as pressing the digit against the likely lukewarm can of soda he still had, exaggerating his obvious injury. You know, the one that didn’t exist.

Suguru barked out a laugh. “Like I said; drama queen.”

Satoru harrumphed, mumbling incoherent grievances as he pressed the rim of his drink to his lips, presumably to ‘politely’ muffle his quips with sips of carbonation.

You wanted to bully him a little more, ribbing him when you had the high ground was too much fun.

Geto would probably have more material for you to work with.

“Hey, Suguwu, do you–” you abruptly cut yourself off and slapped a hand over your mouth.

So much for high ground.

Satoru snorted his soda out through his nose and yowled, crying out in pain between guffaws as he clutched his hand over his lips in a hopeless attempt to catch any spare liquid.

Suguru raised a brow at you, a bemused smile spreading lazily across his face, turning his eyes into mirthful, mischievous crescents. “Pardon?”

Your entire face glowing a deep shade of vermillion. “I– can we just pretend–”

“Suguwu!” Gojo wheezed, arms coiling around his stomach, free hand grasping the side of his shirt for dear life. “Y’hear that, Suguwu? Think the lady has something to say, Suguwu. Hah!”

“Don't tease her so much, Satoru. I think it's cute,” he said, adjusting his backpack to hang on his back by one strap.

“Can you, please, just let me die now,” you grumbled, hiding your face with your hand placed flat along the side. You felt like you pulled the pin on a flashbang but forgot to throw it.

Gojo wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, coughing out whatever liquid had gotten caught down the wrong pipe. You could hear him crooning at you, but you were trying desperately to focus on your destination as it came into view, hoping and praying that Granny would save you.

Or someone, anyone, else.

“Hello!”

Prayers answered! For once!

Your head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice as you approached the store, and you were immensely grateful for the divine timing of your arrival. Candied reprieve kissed your skin, easing your humiliation right away.

“Iori-san!” You called back, returning the wave she sent you in greeting. Spotting a head of brunette hair next to her, you shifted your attention to her companion, lighting up further with both relief and joy. “Oh, hey–”

“Aha!” Satoru jogged forward and spun around, throwing his arm around a less-than-amused Shoko’s shoulders. “This is Ieiri Shoko, she’s the doctor I warn– told you about!”

“Ah, we already met,” you grinned at Shoko, who gave you a ‘can you believe this shit?’ look.

“Wait, what?” He blinked at you. “Really?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. She called you an idiot.”

Suguru snorted into his palm, briskly facing away to poorly conceal his swallowed back laughter. 

Satoru balked, blinking between you and your mutual friend when she shoved his arm off her. “When was this?”

“Uh…” You pressed your curved index against your chin, calculating. “Same day you and I met, actually.”

He looked completely aghast, utterly betrayed. “Wh– that was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

You lifted and dropped your shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “Didn’t cross my mind?”

Deflating with a wispy wheeze that imitated a sad balloon, he pouted and turned his back on the entire group. “Can’t trust anyone around here. Keepin’ secrets, callin’ me a drama queen and an idiot.

Shoko rolled her eyes. “You are a drama queen and an idiot, Satoru,” she grunted and shook her head, then shot a relaxed smile your way. “Thanks for the macarons, by the way. They were delicious.”

“Yeah!” Utahime bobbed her head. “You’re an amazing baker.”

You scratched your neck with one hand and patted Satoru’s back with the other to comfort him. “I actually only know how to make macarons.”

Utahime shuffled closer to you, mouth parted with disbelief. “What? No way! I bet you’d make a great baker! Nothing like that idiot over there,” the bridge of her nose wrinkled with distaste as she sent the whining baby a scathing side-eye.

“I told you she bullies me!” He was looking your way in an instant. “It’s her fault I’m like this! How is any of this fair?”

“She’s older than you, so she gets to bully you,” Shoko stated. “Sibling rules.”

“We are not siblings!” Utahime shouted, nose and forehead flushed red with anger. “Shoko! How could you say that!”

Satoru took that statement and ran. “By that logic, I get to bully Suguru!”

“You already do,” Geto responded.

You blinked, and found a face unexpectedly very close to yours. “What about you, huh?” Ocean blues pierced into the depths of your soul. “You bully me a lot, too. Does that mean you’re older than me– agh!”

He clutched the back of his head where Iori had landed an expert hit, delivered with a precision mastered only after years of training. “Jerk! Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age!?” 

“Why is everyone abusing me today? What did I do to any of you, huh?” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out as he pinned his watery, puppy-dog eyes on you.

Okay, now you were starting to feel bad. Letting go of a shallow, defeated exhale, you opened your arms to him.

His expression changed to glee faster than you could realize, and within seconds, you were being crushed against his chest. You didn’t give consideration to how strong he was, woefully unaware that his forearms alone could exert enough pressure on your limbs to make a few joints pop. 

“Yippee! I knew someone cared about me!” He stuck his tongue out at everyone else, then nuzzled himself deep into the crook of your neck.

Too hot, too hot, too hot!

“Yeah, yeah,” you hacked out, patting his back. “You can let me go, now.”

“No way,” he refused, breath tickling your collarbone. “This is the least I deserve.”

Shoko was in your peripheral, a wicked smirk on her lips as she stuck a cigarette between them. You mouthed help me to her, and gaped when she pretended to get distracted and miss your S.O.S. request. 

Screw Shoko, Utahime was your favorite person now. She was by you in a snap, prying the arms of steel keeping you caged off of you. Her strength was impressive, especially given that Satoru was actively fighting her on it. There was a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to duck down under their arms, and dash into the safe haven that was Granny’s shop.

Sweet, sweet AC.

You visibly shuddered as a blast of arctic air hit you. Heaven was in all the things easily taken for granted.

The chime of the bell summoned the old lady out of thin air – or it might have been her ‘you’ senses, she had a keen perception for when you’d be coming.

“Oh, hello!” She welcomed you warmly, wholly ignoring the second person with you as she scurried across the floor to reach you.

Granny grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you close, pressing a couple wet, loud kisses on your cheeks, right in front of your ears, making your eardrums pop. Your theory that the sound of kisses grew louder with age was gaining credence.

“How are you feeling, dear? You aren’t working too hard, are you?” She planted the back of her hand against your forehead, steamrolling right along and not giving you a chance to respond. “Oh, my, you’re so warm! Are you feeling feverish? Sick? I’m telling you, you should leave that house to the men who are used to working in those conditions.”

“Granny–”

“Sit, sit, let me get you some water,” she nudged you towards the familiar stool you’d taken respite on many times now, ready to zip away to retrieve that promised glass of water.

“Hey, Granny,” Suguru interrupted that plan by raising a hand in greeting, only to be subsequently pummeled by an angered grandmother. “Ow–”

“Some man you are, letting a lady get ill!” She shamed him.

You immediately hopped up, bolting to his rescue. “Granny! Granny, I’m not sick, it’s okay! It’s just hot outside today.”

She stopped her volley of attacks on the poor, innocent man to take in your appearance. She lifted your arms, eyeing down your figure carefully, then hmphed.

“My apologies, darling,” she reached up to pinch Suguru’s cheek, which somehow looked more painful than the fairly weak smacks she delivered earlier. She was easily able to tug him down to be eye-to-eye with her. “But you have been taking care of her, haven’t you?”

Still, he put on a smile and nodded. “Of course, I have been.”

She smiled broadly at him and released his cheek, patting it gently twice. “My, what a good boy you are. But, if I hear you’ve been mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to beat you with my geta and bury you beside that fish of yours.”

Suguru grimaced as he rubbed the tender spot she had pinched, rising back up to his full height. “Ouch, Granny. Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

You planted your hands on your hips, eye twitching with irritation. “I’m right here. And, I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I carry extra bottles of water because you always underestimate how thirsty you get,” he fired back. “You sweat it out faster than you think you do.”

You coughed into your fist. That was fucking embarrassing. Now you were worried you had a sweating problem. “Maybe I’m a little forgetful, but it’s not that bad.”

This time, Granny was on your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“Granny–”

“What if you didn’t have such a dependable, strong, young man to take care of you?” She tutted in disappointment. “What about when your husband is away at work?” – HUSBAND!? – “Will you forget to drink water then, too?”

You half-inhaled your spit, looking up towards Suguru for help in getting out of your pseudo-grandmother’s scolding–

You almost questioned if you were imagining the flashing dots outlining him – or, rather, where he used to be. A quick twist of your head proved he had already sauntered off somewhere towards the back of the store, if the thump of a fridge door was anything to go by.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Holy shit, for being an older woman, her pinches hurt.

“Ai– yes, I’m listening,” you assured her, wincing. Looks like you had no savior to get you out of this one. There was some muffled yelling outside the glass pane behind you, implying that the three that didn’t come in were too busy squabbling to see you getting reprimanded.

Though, knowing Satoru, he’d just use this as ammunition against you.

She jiggled your cheek. “Very good. You’re a beautiful woman, you need to take care of yourself. Lots of water, avoid direct sunlight, make sure you eat well, all that. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assented.

That good-natured smile of hers was back, and you were pulled into yet another hug. “D’aw, I can’t stay mad at you, you’re too sweet. Don’t go letting anyone take advantage of that.”

There was only so much of the embrace you could return when your arms were pinned to your sides by your unnaturally brawny kinda-grandma, leaving you to awkwardly prop your chin on her shoulder. “I know, Granny.”

That was a lesson you learned a long time ago.

You observed Suguru as he walked between the aisles while he grabbed some stuff, his head sticking out high above the shelves. When he emerged back out at the front, you were seated on the stool that basically belonged to you at this point. He carefully set his gathered spoils on the counter next to the cash register, then slipped past you to go behind the counter. 

His hand briefly rubbed your knee, something you noticed he did from time to time. While he wasn’t nearly as touchy as Satoru, who didn’t know the definition of personal space, he did often give you comforting nudges like that.

You noted with curiosity how familiar he seemed with ringing up his products by himself, working swiftly to tally them. Based on Granny’s lack of reaction when she returned with a mug, she trusted him to pay properly.

Smooth ceramic was placed within your palms, and you brought it up to guzzle down the life-saving liquid within. Damn, Suguru was right, you had no idea how thirsty you were. In terms of hydration, anyway. You were painfully aware of your other shortcomings.

“How’s that house of yours coming along?” She asked, resting a weathered hand on your upper thigh.

You hummed past a gulp, then answered. “Good, I think. We’re still washing the floors, but we’ve already cleaned up a lot. Satoru’s been dealing with the tatami in one of the rooms. It’s been stubborn as hell so far.”

“Try soaking it for a while beforehand,” she suggested. “And ventilate well. Goodness knows what’s been in there.”

Comforting. “We have been, don’t worry. Suguru managed to get all the windows open, which has been a huge relief.”

The elder leaned in close to you, ‘whispering’ in what could have only been a singular decibel quieter than normal talking. “See? Reliable, strong man. He’d take good care of you, I’ve known him since he was a child. Very dependable.”

Wha–

Was she trying to set you up with him!?

You glared at him when you heard him laughing under his breath, having heard her suggestion. It’d be more shocking if he didn’t.

Instead of coming to dispel her wild offer, he stuffed his goods away into a bag and walked towards the exit. You got up to follow after hastily finishing your drink and letting her take the empty mug from you, fully intending to give them both a piece of your mind the next chance you got. “Thank you for the water, Granny. We’ll head out, now.”

“I left some extra cash for you, Granny,” Suguru said as he held the door open for you. “From my mom, paying you back.”

She clicked her tongue. “I told her not to worry about it. Be safe, you two. Suguru, tell your mother to sleep with one eye open.”

“Will do,” he agreed too easily for such a casual threat, pushing you out into the humid summer air, and you were tempted to return to the sanctity of her air-conditioned shop. 

“You’re back! Thank God!” Utahime ushered you further away from your salvation, to which you whined and peered back at it forlornly. “Come with me to the shrine! I found more mythological history books recently, and you promised to tell me about Sne– sneguh– snah?”

“Snegurochka,” you corrected.

“Yeah! Her!”

A limb wrapped around your middle, drawing you back into a board chest. “No can do, Utahime!” Satoru shut her down cheerily, pressing his cheek against yours. “She already agreed to go on a date with me to the park.”

Utahime’s appalled expression was mirrored in your own. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl directed at your captor and…date, apparently.

“Like hell! I’m not letting you corrupt my friend!” She growled.

“Corrupt?” He pouted, playing the part of virtuous maiden. “Me? Why, I’d never.”

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “With us, Satoru. Don’t forget about me.”

“Hard to when your head is so big,” the other boy snapped in return.

You gawked at Geto, disbelieving. He was supposed to be your savior! “It is not a date! Don’t go making Iori-san and Shoko think the wrong things!”

“Welp, I gotta head back to the clinic,” Shoko said as her name was called, beginning to walk past. She patted your bicep on the way. “Good luck.”

“Shoko!” You cried out after her. “Come back here!”

She merely waved over her shoulder with her cigarette pinched between her fingers, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Utahime cupped your face in her hands, expression taut with seriousness. “Blink twice if they’re holding you prisoner.”

You heard ‘blink’ and went with it, batting your eyes as fast as you could.

“I knew it!” She bayed, tugging at Satoru’s arms – but she couldn’t free you. “Let go of her, you dog!”

He jerked his head towards the hill her shrine sat atop and gasped theatrically. “Oh, no! Is that a fire near your shrine?”

“What!?” She whirled around in horror, opening up the opportunity for him to tow you away, one arm staying around your waist while he led you into an unwilling sprint.

“Ohp, so sorry, guess I was wrong!” He yelled back, giggling at the rage painted all over her twisted expression.

“Satoru!” She shrieked, watching with grit teeth as Suguru jogged to catch up. “Yeah! Get him, Suguru–” Her jaw dropped when he grabbed your hand with his free one, making you run faster. “Oh, Heaven’s sake, not you, too!”

What the fuck! You didn’t agree to extra exercise today! And poor Utahime! You really hoped she wasn’t assuming things about your relationship with the men.

“Hey– guys! Slow down, damnit!” You heaved out. “Ugh! You two are awful!”

They simply laughed, hauling you right along to the park. Their long ass strides made this hell for you, and you were certain that if the park wasn’t so close, you would have eaten shit and died from the amount of times you stumbled. Their tight grips kept you from falling, and you partially wished they’d just let you collapse.

Pavement gave way to grass, the impact of your shoes becoming dulled. After running a few steps further, they finally gave you mercy and let go of you, slowing their gaits to a stop.

You slapped your hands against your knees, greedily sucking in air through the ache in your throat.

“You two–” pant, “really–” pant, “fucking–” pant, “suck.”

Satoru snickered and smoothed a hand over your messy tendrils, ignoring your death stare, finding it humorous in your current state. “Aww, come on! That was fun!”

“You’re gonna give Iori-san and Shoko the wrong idea,” you groaned, wiping wetness off your brow.

He feigned innocence. “What idea?”

Bastard.

“That we– tch,” you took in one more deep breath to catch your breath. “Nevermind. Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that!” He purred, right on your tail as you trudged to a nearby maple tree.

With the impromptu run, plus the season, the heat was finally getting to you. For all of Satoru’s bravado, you took solace in the fact that it also looked like the temperature was affecting him.  

You flopped down under a maple tree you picked out and loafed back on your palms, trying to survive the immense wave of evil weather that chose to sweep across the valley. You felt like you were turning into a prune, or a sponge that got tossed into an oven set on broil, despite all the sweating. You weren’t a stranger to high summer temperatures, but this was asininity.

Somehow, you survived the trip to the park, mourning the glacial morning dew that had long since evaporated, leaving the grass tepid at best. But you’d take anything, whatever it cost to keep you from roasting like a fine crème brûlée.

Satoru dropped down beside you, not doing much better than you, and Suguru slumped against the bark of the hulking plant, taking respite under it.

The shrill songs of cicadas took presence everywhere, chirping and pestering the females in hopes of copulating and passing along their live-underground-for-17-years genes.

You were immensely happy that you managed to clear out most of your lawn before the true harshness of the season kicked into full swing. You would not have lived through that, and doing it at night would have been too dangerous.

Work was very far from what you wanted to think about, though.

“Why the fuck is Japan so hot in summer,” you lamented, lethargically fanning yourself with a slack hand. It did zilch to help. “How do you deal with this?”

You squealed when something chilly touched your forehead and squinted up to see Suguru holding out a popsicle to you. You grabbed it without a second thought and ripped off the plastic covering, stuffing the crumpled ball back in his awaiting hand.

Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.”

You chomped off a bite of your snack with your molars, flinching at the slight sting, then relaxed as the chunk rested on your tongue. Bless Suguru and his mother hen tendencies. Towards you, anyway. He seemed to find humor in his best friend’s suffering up to a certain point.

The newly purchased, refrigerated, highly-sugary fizz he bought while at the store showed he did care at the end of the day.  

Summer in rural Japan smelled nice. That was about all the praise you were capable of giving this hellish landscape when you were getting steamed like a damn dumpling. Winter you could deal with; in winter, you could just add extra clothes or blankets or whatever for more warmth. You could only get so naked in summer before you were melting into a gross puddle.

“I wanna skin myself,” you slurred around your icy treat.

Suguru snorted. “That’s morbid.”

You bored into him blankly, examining his clothes – light-colored long sleeves and full-length, loose pants versus your tank top and flappy shorts. “How the hell are you dealing with this so well?”

He simply shrugged and gave you that closed-eye smile that always had your insides doing funky things they flat-out were not allowed to do. “I’ve always preferred summer.”

Hm. It added up. You always associated him with the sun – warm, inviting, making you want to lay somewhere soft and bask in his glow. But that feeling was warmth, not sweltering fire making your muscles shed off your very bones. 

“You’re a beast,” you mumbled, unsure if you were admiring or fearing him. “What ‘bout you, Toru?”

“Ehh?”

“Season.”

“What about it?”

You whined and placed your head on his. “Pay attention, idiot.”

“Well, excuse me, princess. I’m busy trying to not die of heatstroke over here,” he pinched your thigh, making you yelp.

You flicked the back of his hand in retaliation. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Oh,” he pried his limpid orbs open and eyed you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Those glistening, forget-me-not hues never failed to whisk your breath away. “Spring.”

“Good choice,” you approved.

Suguru bent down from the tree, angling his head to the side as he pointed a finger at himself. “Oh? Is my choice not good?”

“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m evaporating,” you muttered, taking another bite of your ice snack and plainting at the sharp pain radiating in your teeth for a few seconds. He merely laughed in the voice that had you feeling twice as flushed, instantly soothing the pain away.

“Don’t eat it like that if it just hurts you,” the silver-blond grumbled, his eyes already closed again as he fought to fend off the temperature mentally, if he couldn’t spare himself physically.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you huffed pettishly.

You partially closed your eyes and lazed back on your free palm, absentmindedly licking up the melted drips before they landed on your hand and coated it in residue. More than they already had, anyway.

A welcomed breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees surrounding you, a relieving balm against scalding skin that had all three of you sighing in alleviation. It rustled the yellow of the leaves above your head, creating a mesmerizing show of dancing golden fans, their edges dipped in crimson.

The droning chirps of cicadas, the tweets of birds calling to their brooding mates as they brought back food from a successful hunt, the fragrance of blooming flowers being pollinated, having their nectar gathered in preparation for being turned into honey – all of it surrounded you in a deep serenity you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Your head was optimistically empty, merely taking in the ambiance in fine detail. The lush, fluffy grass underhand tickled your wrist and the back of your hand, and the pleasant silence with your closest friends made you…happy. 

You’d been happy for a while now, but never stopped to notice it until this moment.

You found two idiots and two other kind-of-normal people to call friends, and you always ardently anticipated hanging out with them, rather than dreading it. You were pouty when they were busy, and ecstatic when you could all gather together.

Especially these two dumbasses, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. You spent most of your time with them, doing things that reminded you of the nostalgic highschool and college years you didn’t recall having.

You ruminated on how different your life would have been if you knew them from childhood; if you went to school with them, grew up as neighbors, mourned when Satoru left for his studies, celebrated when he returned. Would you have still ended up like this, a paranoid kite that was running out of thread to cut?

Or would you have been normal – or, at least, normal-adjacent? How would being raised in Japan differ from your home nation?

…

Home nation.

What was your home nation, again?

All that came to mind was here, now, with your best friends on either side of you. You knew where you were born, but that seemed so far away, now. You didn’t remember what the sky looked like over there – if you caught a glimpse of it at all in the first place.

Reflecting back left an odd emotion welling in your chest, like you were forgetting something. You wouldn’t say melancholy, nor yearning. It wasn’t nostalgia, either, seeing as you were semi-nomadic for a good portion of your life. You didn’t stay in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone or anything. 

When you tried to think about your childhood friends, you saw Geto, Gojo, Ieiri, and Iori. The boys were smaller, childlike, with chubbier cheeks and brattier attitudes, but your boys regardless. You remembered how Satoru was the class clown that frequently set off your teachers, while Suguru egged him on from the backlines, purposefully getting on his nerves. 

Shoko was there, too, watching with a shit-eating grin and not doing anything to help. Utahime at least tried.

And then there was you.

You didn’t really know if you were there or not. Just a spectator, possibly, but it didn’t seem like that. Not an empty, silent, emotionless observer, no. You couldn’t put your finger on it. What you were was there, on the tip of your tongue, you just didn’t know the word for it.

These memories weren’t real, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to imagine they were, especially when they felt like they were.

You could see yourself growing up with them, spending days lazing under the shade just like you were now, losing half the water in your body under the unforgiving summer sun and turning into a sort of sad excuse for a cucumber. You could remember the sharp sting of a wadded up piece of paper hitting your temple from across the table, your head shooting up so you could glare at jubilant Satoru that concluded throwing notes at you from two feet away was a better use of his time than just whispering or, gods forbid, studying.

You were certain he did it specifically because it pissed you off, and because he was unafraid of repercussions from the teacher. Discipline didn’t exist in his dictionary. Suguru would grab the wad from your other side to toss it right back and nail his best friend in the center of his forehead, leading to a paper ball fight that you were, unfortunately, directly in the middle of.

Shoko and Utahime, the lucky bitches, were smart to choose seats a few tables back, safely out of the firing and collateral range. 

You tried to join the two several times, yet the boys somehow always managed to sit you right back between them. You were their ‘mediator’, even though you tended to exhort them rather than soothe. You did calm them down, but only after you, Shoko, and Utahime had a good show. It was payback for all the times they dragged you into their messes.

Other memories filtered in bit by bit, sporadic sections popping up as they pleased; dying on the track field together, sparring against one another, learning vague concepts in a classroom that scarcely had anyone in it. You and Satoru would crack stupid jokes until you were both in stitches, Suguru would be there when your thoughts became too much to handle, Shoko was the one to mend you with a touch that felt both toasty and mellow at the same time.

There weren’t a lot of you, but you had each other, and that was all you needed. You had your friends by your side, and you were complete.

You were pulled from your woolgathering when you felt someone pluck your popsicle from your hand, your eyes flying open to gawp at Suguru in disbelief as he took a sizable bite out of it, then returned it innocently, as if he hadn’t just robbed you blind.

“Hey!” You cried out. “Thief! That was mine! You said you were fine in summer!”

“I said I prefer summer, not that I’m immune to it,” he corrected you, licking off a spot of juice from the corner of his mouth. Such a simple action from him legally wasn’t allowed to be that devastatingly attractive, yet here he was, casually breaking the law and sending you into disarray. “Besides, I paid for it.”

“Unfair,” you pouted, staring down at your now half-gone heatstroke preventer. “You can’t just give me something, then take it back.”

He chuckled and knelt beside you. “Relax, I’ll buy you another one.”

You instantly perked up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Will you buy one for me, too, Suguwu?” Satoru flapped his long eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip.

“No.”

“What!?” He sprung upright. “Now that’s unfair! It’s favoritism!”

Suguru snorted and dropped the bag between your knee and Satoru’s, which the latter took to like a raccoon to a dumpster. He dug around inside the plastic until he located his drink and held it up like Arthur did with Excalibur.

Only Gojo could down this amount of sugar in a single day and not suffer the consequences, you mused, watching him greedily gulp at the borderline dessert. Maybe there was some merit to his body being godly, after all.

“Hey,” Gojo called out after chugging a solid 2/3rds of the soda. “What are those, uhhhh…maple syrup snow candies called?”

“I think they're just called maple syrup snow candies,” you filled in.

“Maple candy, or maple taffy,” Suguru enlightened you. “Popular treat in winter in Canada.”

Satoru gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Yeah, those. I want one of those.”

You lamented. “It’s the middle of summer.”

“But they sound so cold and good. Mm…I can taste it already. I just know they'd save me from this god awful heat. Thanks for the soda, by the way, Suguru.”

Geto hummed in acknowledgement.

An idea flittered into your mind and you sat ramrod straight, clapping your hands together and grabbing their attention. Satoru grunted, slipping partially off you. “Let’s go to the river!”

“Hm,” Suguru considered it. “Not a bad idea, might help us cool down.”

You celebrated at obtaining his approval and passed the rest of your popsicle to Satoru, who devoured it in a single chomp.

A large hand was offered to you in way of assistance and you grabbed it, getting pulled easily with a short ‘hup’ from your aide. He inspected your form for a moment, then plucked a fallen leaf from the top of your head, twisting it between his digits. When a gale lifted, he released it, letting the unseen hands of the sky carry it away.

Satoru was up on his feet, too, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling from the shift in position. “Let’s go!”

He took the lead, speed-walking through the park to reach the shallow slope that allowed easy access to the river. For someone who was about as dead as you minutes ago, he obtained an infectiously energetic zest out of nowhere. Motivation is a hell of a drug.

You caught up to him and skipped forward, unburdened by needing to carry anything like the pair. Already able to feel the refreshing bite of the water as it came into view, you picked up the pace, racing towards the cure to your ails.

You tore off your tank top in the process and threw it somewhere carelessly, stumbling out of your sandals as you neared upon the shoreline of the river. Leaving them behind on a boulder, you skidded down the bank to the icy waters and jumped in, dressed in your shorts and sports bra.

A shrill cry and jubilant hoot echoed in the valley as goosebumps coated your skin, prickling the hair on your arms and nape. Frigid liquid surrounded you, abruptly replacing torrid solstice with frozen tundra. 

“Fuck, cold!”

Satoru was rolling up his pant legs, his own button-up having been disposed of like your top. Just as eager to experience the same liberation you did, he toed off his shoes and ripped off his socks, then he was kicking up water next to you as he joined you. The crystalline liquid came to about mid-thigh for him, but that didn’t stop you being able to see all the hairs on his body stand on end all at once.

“Cold!” He echoed you.

You laughed, running your wet hands through your hair. “That’s what I’m saying!”

Not wasting a second, he threw a handful of water onto you, making you twist your body to avoid the splash. You shrieked from the pellets of frost raining down on you, his icy-toned orbs brimming with mirth at your reaction.

Suguru was still on the shore, more composed and patient than either you or his best friend. He went about methodically locating both your and Satoru’s shirts, setting them down on the ground beside the bag and his backpack, then focused on his own clothes. 

He slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and legs of his pants, and stepped into the river.

Just to get grabbed and pulled further in by Satoru before he could get acclimated to the pressure of the running stream.

He took in a shallow breath, bounding forward to keep his balance and not fall splat into the rapid. “Satoru!”

“Come on!” Lanky fingers pushed back ivory hair. “Relax a bit, would ya?”

Chestnut eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between relaxing and getting waterboarded.” 

Gojo huffed. “Yeah? How would you know what getting waterboarded feels like?”

“How many times have you nearly drowned me in your hot spring?”

“I wasn’t trying to drown you.”

“So, you admit it’s waterboarding, then?”

The two were distracted, arguing about drowning technicalities, which meant they weren’t paying attention to you.

Perfect.

You sank down into the flowing water, shivering from the hibernal wet as it surrounded you. Once you were absolutely certain they had no idea what you were up to, you made your move.

Crawling along the riverbed, you let the flow guide you, using the sound of water breaking to further creep up on your companions.

You could hear the Jaws theme slowly ramping up in your mind, each beat growing louder as you neared. Trembles wracked your body, caused by a mesh of the nippy waters and budding adrenaline.

A little further, you were too far…still too far…almost…

“Rrah!” You jumped out the moment you were within range of your target, unleashing your fiercest battle roar as you threw yourself onto Satoru’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The man choked in surprise, and based on the way he promptly lost balance and dropped like a rock into the waters with a heady splash, you could proudly say you caught him off guard. You both surfaced with deep gasps of breath, and you were on top of him as soon as he sat up.

Using your position of straddling his thighs to your advantage, you skipped past the torture and went straight for the kill.

Your fingers grabbed his sides and started lightly scratching at them. 

Satoru hiccuped and howled, writhing and trying to shove you off him as you attacked him with endless tickles. “Wait! S-Stop, no! That tickles!”

“Give up your throne, Gojo Satoru!” You demanded, doubling down on the siege on his crown. “Name me king, or I will never stop!”

He easily turned into a blubbering mess despite his attempts to stay stoic and strong. “N-No way! Oh, god– stop! Please!”

“Not until you hand me your crown!”

“Never! I’ll–” you pinched his hip and he yowled. “Okay! Fuck, fine, it’s yours, just spare me! Please!”

“Yes!” You released him at long last and threw your arms in the air in victory. “I’m the king of this valley! Haha, suck it!”

You climbed off Satoru as he took deep breaths to calm himself, turning your focus on Suguru, who was losing his shit on the shoreline. Wheezes slipped past his lips, the boy barely getting a chance to inhale before he was cackling all over again.

Standing with your legs shoulder-width apart and one fist on your hip, you pointed at Geto authoritatively. “You! Surrender to me now or face the punishment of one thousand tickles for defying the king! 

“Oh, god,” he heaved, arms clutching his ribs to keep himself together. Bunny lines formed on the bridge of his nose, brows pinched tight, tears springing to the corners of his amber eyes. “I can’t, the threat of tickles is too much. I surrender, I surrender!”

“The king is triumphant! All hail the king!” You thundered, throwing your head back to unleash a demonic chortle that soon turned into real laughter. “Mark my words, on this da–”

Powerful hands pushed against your side, and you went crashing unceremoniously into the river.

Poor Suguru was wiping away more tears at the point of you reemerging, flushed red from head to toe from the exertion.

“This is a coup!” Satoru announced. “I’m taking back the crown!”

“Wh– no fair!” You objected, wiping your face free of water. “I won that fair and square!”

He beamed down at you, summer skies reflected in his spring eyes. “Come and get it, then!”

An all-out war was waged then between you and Satoru, a motley of screams, hollers, and demands getting thrown back and forth at one another. The activity and sweltering sun kept your blood thermal within the oasis of the numbing waterway.

This pearl of time belonged to the three of you and the three of you alone. The seconds slowed infinitely, and though they never came to a true stop, they lasted longer than the birth, life, and death of a distant star. This, to you, was paradise. Your skin was frosty, but your heart was blooming as you skylarked and frisked with people you’d met only a short time ago, but treated like you’d known one another all your lives.

The limits of your joy seemed to shatter with each passing day, expanding more than you ever thought possible. Hell, you never so much as considered that experiencing exultation to this degree was possible in and of itself, but you basked in it all the same.

As long as it lasted, you would savor it.

The sun was beginning its descent when your trio chose to end your excursion, feeling sufficiently chilled.

“Brr,” you quivered as you made your way out, squeezing water out of your hair. “My fingers are like icicles.”

“Come on, ladybug,” Suguru offered you his hand, which you took gratefully, allowing him to guide you out of the river. “That’s enough for today, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go get you warmed up.”

You moaned in complaint at the thought of having to walk all the way back home. You really should have considered it before deciding to take a dip. Curse your spontaneity. “I forgot, Satoru’s house is on that damn mountain.”

“We’re going to my place,” he corrected nonchalantly, as if it’d been long decided. “It’s closer, and my folks are out for the weekend.”

A hand towel was dropped on your face by Satoru, probably one Suguru brought with him when packing his backpack earlier in the day. 

“Dry off, princess,” Satoru instructed you as he crouched down by Geto’s backpack, popping open a bottle of water to knock back. He tossed a second one towards the noiret, who caught it with ease.

He waited for you to finish rubbing as much water off your head as you could before he twisted the top of the bottle off and handed it to you with a pointed look. A veiled threat to drink before I make you.

Well, jokes on him, you actually did want to drink water. 

You took it from him and gulped down half the fluid inside it without hesitation. By some boon, you had the self control to stop before you got sick, and returned the water with a thank-you. Suguru took it upon himself to finish the rest of it.

Satoru snatched the towel from you, replacing it with your tank top (also placed on your head). You blew him a raspberry and tugged it on, cringing at the feeling of your dry (sorta) clothing getting caught on your damp skin. Maybe you should have considered bringing a towel. You would have, if you’d known beforehand that you’d be making a stop at the river.

You hooked your fingers into the back straps of your sandals when they were handed to you, the other two following suit. The village was kept clean, so none of you were worried about stepping on anything concerning, especially since Suguru’s house was right nearby.

“Ready to go?” He asked you, and you nodded.

His palm had returned to its normal calidity, something you noticed as he helped you up the slope. The boy’s body ran like a damn furnace, even after playing in the stream for a couple hours with you. Granted, he somehow managed to keep himself dry above the knees, but regardless.

All three of you were tired out, and you were looking forward to unwinding for the evening. The two boys didn’t bicker much, some light teasing in quieter tones, and – as promised – the trip to Geto’s home was short. You were standing within the genkan of his house in no time, waiting patiently while he disappeared further in to grab a couple towels.

His house resembled the buildings around the middle of town, sitting on the side of the river your house did. There was a stretch of land behind it, but you didn’t get a chance to see much, having been ushered into the cozy abode. 

Being a bit nosy, you peeked around. There was a staircase leading up that hugged the wall of a turn to your left, leaving only the bottom few steps visible to you. The hallway straight ahead was clean and minimalist, likely leading to a dining room, if you had to guess. 

Each home had its own unique smell, and his smelled of spices and something faintly earthy, like fresh soil.

“Here we go,” Suguru announced his return, rounding the corner with a few towels in tow. He tossed one down at your feet above the genkan, motioning for you to step onto it. Obeying, you moved out of the pit, allowing him to layer a second towel around you before tossing the last one to Satoru.

“You can shower first,” he said to you.

You grabbed at the towel, pressing it into your hips and thighs to absorb the water that remained in your soaked bottoms. “Are you sure I can go first?”

He nodded. “You can take a bath, too, if you want.”

“Just a shower is fine, I think. I don’t want to take too long, since you two need to shower, too.”

Satoru sidled up to you, his smug ass grin coming into view as he hovered his chin over your shoulder. “Or, I could shower with you.”

Frankly, you were too drained to let that statement fluster you.

Suguru placed the tip of his index between Satoru’s brows and pushed his head away. “Leave her be, creep. Dry your legs, dude, you’re getting water everywhere.”

“You’re no fun,” the towhead pouted, but retreated anyway.

“Come on,” Geto settled his hand on your nape, guiding you inside. “Don’t be shy, the walls don’t bite.”

You snorted. “New fear unlocked.”

He snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Relax, I won’t let any walls bite you.”

He took you around the bend, past the stairs, which opened up directly to the living room. While following a more traditional structural style, the interior was comfortably modern. A plush, gray couch was pushed against the wall, with side tables on either end. You immediately noticed that the place was littered with a bunch of plants. Some hung from the ceiling, a few were situated on floating shelves, and a potted shrub was situated near the flatscreen opposite to the couch.

You gawked around shamelessly with parted lips, intrigued by the domesticity of his home. “Your place is so nice, Suguru.”

He chuffed beside you. “Don't go making fun of me while you're my guest, now, angel.”

“I'm not!” You gasped, affronted. “I swear! I like it. Lots of plants.”

“My mom’s an avid plant parent,” he explained.

You hummed in appreciation. “It’s homely.”

He exhaled through his nose and pressed his thumb and first finger into your trapezius. “Thank you. Go shower; second door to your left down the hall. I'll lay out some clean clothes for you in a little bit.”

He pointed towards an open sliding door on the other side of the shrub, bumping you forward. You needed no further prompting, trotting off in the direction he showed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost on the way, his instructions easy to follow. Finding the bathroom, you went into it and closed the door. Your fingers hesitated over the lock on the knob, debating. He said he’d bring clothing, but didn’t mention where he’d put it…

You chose to leave it unlocked and hurriedly got to work shedding your drenched clothes. Placing the towel down on the sink counter, you unabashedly peeped the details of the bathroom while you dropped the pieces of your outfit onto the towel.

Just like the rest of his place, the bathroom was well taken care of, also adorned with a few plants, albeit smaller and out of the way. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mom liked plants.

The ceiling light gave off an inviting glow, subconsciously helping you relax. Naked, you fiddled around with the shower knobs until you got hot water to blast out. You squeaked in surprise, adjusted the temp to be your desired level, and hopped right in.

It felt like years of stress were dissolving right off you. His shower might not have been high-techy and super modern like the one you used back at Satoru’s, but the familiarity in its style brought you a kind of comfort you didn’t know you were missing. You melted into the rising steam, sighing deeply and simply doing nothing for a minute to unwind.

It was a good day, the chaos with Granny, Shoko, and Utahime included. You’d have to reassure those two later that Satoru and Suguru were just teasing. Well, Utahime. For Shoko, you’d probably have to convince her, and you didn’t have faith you’d succeed.

You glanced around, spotting a bottle of body wash that looked like it belonged to Suguru on an inset tile shelf. You grabbed it, hoping he wouldn’t mind you using it.

Reading over the label, you admired his choice in soap: lavender and green tea, both for scent and the benefits they provided. 

You couldn’t help the giddy little burst of vim you got knowing you were about to smell like him, too.

You squeezed some onto your palm and lathered it between your hands, then started rubbing it onto your body. The day’s strain, dirt, grime, and weariness lifted with it, washing off in thin and slow waves of white streaks down your figure. You felt lighter and lighter with each pass over your chest, waist, hips, and thighs. 

Tension thawed from your shoulders as you scrubbed your hands along them, muscles loosening with each bit of cleanliness you gained. It felt nice. Really nice, a calm time away to yourself to let go.

His shampoo also smelled like green tea, and you were occupied with massaging it into your hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You called out.

The door cracked open. “Just me,” Suguru responded. “Brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the counter.”

“Oh, thank you!” What’d you do to deserve a friend like him?

There were some rustling noises as he spoke. “It’s no problem, I’m not gonna leave you hanging without something to change into. Do you mind if I take your clothes to toss in the wash?”

“That’s fine,” you permitted. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, take your time,” he said, and then the door was closed once more.

Even if he told you to, you still didn’t want to hog the shower to yourself, knowing that Satoru got just as river-bathed as you did, and he was wearing pants to boot.

You rinsed off the shampoo and followed it up with the matching conditioner, using your fingers to delicately comb out any tangles. Though they weren’t your own products, they felt amazing, making your tresses silky smooth. You would have to ask him where he got his products.

You were out as soon as you were done washing your hair. You cocooned yourself in the clean, fluffy towel he also provided, loving the texture. It was soft yet absorbent, coaxing away any droplets that clung to your curves and planes. 

You wanted to steal it.

But, reluctant as you might have been, you refrained. You used it to dry your hair some, and folded it to set aside after you were sufficiently devoid of liquid. Checking the clothes Suguru provided you, you noted he gave you a pair of sweats with a drawstring, allowing you to adjust the waistline as needed. Ever the observant mother hen, you were grateful for his foresight.

You slipped on the t-shirt first, pleased by the material as it came to rest against your freshly washed skin. It was noticeably oversized, but in a sleepy-Sunday sort of way, big enough to be cute and snuggly.

The sweats were huge on you by comparison, what with his absurdly long limbs. You tugged the drawstring to your preferred tightness, then rolled up the legs until they were out of the way and you wouldn’t trip over them.

All dressed, you opened the door with your used towel in hand and walked out to find Suguru waiting for you, leaning against the wall beside the room. He smiled warmly at you and pushed himself off his support, holding out his hand to take the towel from you. 

A quick sweep over your form showed he was appraising your outfit with an approving eye, pride undisguised. “That shirt looks good on you.”

You were probably imagining the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

“Ehehe,” you giggled fiendishly, channeling your inner menace as you lightly tugged at the fabric of the top. “Mine, now.”

His expression softened into a smile that had little cupid wings fluttering on your back, a smile you only ever saw him give you. “All yours, angel. You can go sit down in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you nodded and followed his instructions, making your way back to the flora-infested room.

Settling down on the couch, you exhaled and closed your eyes. You heard the shower start up again before it became muffled by the door, presumably because of Satoru. You weren’t left waiting long, the five or so minutes you were alone flying by. The padding of feet signaled you to Suguru’s return, your eyes prying open halfway to peer languidly at him.

“Here,” he jutted his chin towards you. “Sit on the floor, I’ll do your hair.”

Finding no reason to object, you stood and let him take your place on the cushion before plopping yourself down between his legs. He tilted your head forward, then got to work. His touch was ever so gentle, fingers diligent in their movements as he treated your hair with a knowingness you didn’t expect him to have. 

Amicable silence filled the space around you, just the shifting of clothes and the slick sound of leave-in as he spread it evenly through your tresses. It gave your mind the freedom to drift away undisturbed.

As he was carefully drying and styling your hair, you thought about how Suguru often reminded you of a cat, considering his tendency to groom you. Or a bird, like a crow or a raven, that liked to preen you.

If you were all some sort of animal hybrids, you could easily imagine him being either some sort of corvid, a vulpine, or a big cat. A black leopard, to be specific.

If Satoru was a big cat, he would be a snow leopard. You refused to take any other suggestions. The tall freak was touchy, cuddly, and so proficient in hiding himself within an environment that did not suit him that he could be breathing down your neck and you'd be none the wiser.

The more you thought about it, the more you could picture them as their respective animals. Satoru would undoubtedly sunbathe with his belly up, paws curled, tail flicking side to side happily, unafraid of showing his biggest weakness. 

You compared and contrasted between your options for him. He did like to give you small, shiny things, and you'd never refuse because oooh, shiny! His hair reminded you of crow feathers when it caught the light from the sun. It bore a faint iridescence, a chrome that shifted between emerald and the time just between midnight and dawn, in the earliest hours of the morning where stars still sparkled brilliantly. You could picture him preening his feathers, plucking out the pins and fluffing the downy fuzz. 

Though black leopard might have suited him better. He tended to rub his cheek against yours or the top of your head whenever you embraced. You could easily picture him loafing under the shade, licking his paw to smooth out his fur and ensure it matched the rest of his satiny complexion. He had the personality of a laid back, lazy feline that could turn from a sweet teeny baby kitten into a merciless predator in the blink of an eye. 

You'd seen the way he behaved when he wanted something – the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the concentration in his brow. 

It made a tremor flit up your body, especially when he set his sights on you like that. He was capable of being a silent stalker, an expert in scaring the ever living shit out of you any chance he got, just like Satoru.

That soursop boy was surely the type to roll over and let others do things for him. Feed him, rub his belly, comb through his fur. You hadn’t seen him when he was prowling, searching for a meal to hunt down, but sometimes you got a flicker of something similar to it in his eyes. Like a passing rumination, where he considered if it was worth exhausting energy to chase down his prey. 

…Could the reason you’d had yet to witness his hunt be because of his ability to camouflage? Because he didn’t want you to see?

The concept gave you chills.

You suppressed your reaction at the introspection, remembering that Suguru was behind you, gently drying your hair with tepid air and tender touches. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by giving him the impression that he was pleasuring you.

Which he undeniably was, but he didn't need to know about the prickles and tingles traveling all the way from your crown to your tailbone.

You continued your train of thought.

Satoru the Snow Leopard would spend his days grooming you endlessly, licking at your fur until it stuck out in all kinds of wild angles. After that, Suguru would mend the spiky hairs until you were glossy and sleek like him.

What did that make you in comparison to them?

Standing side by side with them, it was clear you were prey – unless you were a black-footed cat. But given your dynamic and how the two of them liked to coddle you, you doubted you'd resemble any kind of predator.

If you had to be prey, then what? A doe, or gazelle? 

No, those were unfortunately too majestic, and you weren't nearly as graceful as those lovely creatures. Your habit of tripping over your own feet proved case enough.

Okay, so if you weren't either of those…you supposed you could still fit into the cervidae family. Pudu deer was a possibility. 

You tried to imagine it, but sadly, you couldn't put yourself into deer hooves.

Were birds prey? Some of them had to be, like doves, right? 

If you were a bird, then Suguru had to be, too. You only trusted him to primp and help you maintain your feathers. Satoru would just chomp on them.

Alright, so no-go on the birds, then. Field mouse?

No, too small. You were short, but not that short. They’d also likely accidentally swallow you whole if they tried to mend a stray whisker.

Fennec fox? 

You contemplated it, then mentally shook your head. You weren't high-pitched and energetic enough to qualify for that. Satoru would beg to differ, and you’d let him, because it’d be funny. Also, they were predators, anyway.

A brief memory flashed in your mind of something Satoru said, back when you first met Suguru.

‘I don't know,’ he hummed in deliberation. ‘I prefer bunny. Or mochi.’

Bunny.

Bunny…

A rabbit with floppy ears and an upturned tail. Fuzzy and velvety, obviously small and squishy, as much as you grimaced at those choice words of his.

Flumped right between either of their front paws, or stuffed in the middle of their bodies when they curled up to nap. Or chilling on one of their backs, your little paws on their head to watch the world from an angle you could never see on your own.

Bunny fit perfectly, a glove with no rips in the stitch.

You three together would consist of a snow leopard, a black leopard, and a small rabbit that they decided to keep as a pet and not dinner. For whatever reason that could be. Fish are friends, not food.

You had no idea why you chose to start daydreaming about being animorphs. Imagining being squished by their hulking forms in the afternoon rays, or being wrapped up in their fluffy tails for warmth on autumn nights. They were fun images to entertain.

“You seem to be quite deep in thought,” Suguru's breath brushed against the shell of your ear, spooking you. You hadn't even noticed he was finished. “Care to let me in?”

“Eep!” You squeaked, rotating partially to give him the stink eye for doing the thing he and Satoru always did. No way were you going to let him in on your weird brain doing weird brain things. “It's nothing important, just fantasizing a bit. Zoned out.”

Ohp. 

And there was that hungry gleam in his eye, the shimmer in his black tea hues. You hit the nail on the head with the black leopard comparison.

“Fantasizing about what?” He purred. Cat. “About me?” 

Your lashes fluttered and you whipped your head back in the other direction, tucking your newly dry and enviously soft hair behind your ears. “N-No?”

Man.

You were such a bad liar.

He, merciful god that he is, elected to only tease you and not try to dive into the unreasonably bizarre pool of thoughts that swirled and whirled in your consciousness like the godsforsaken mess you were. 

Nor ask about why most of them revolved around those two boys. Bless him, your hero. Satoru would have tormented you until you gave in out of desperation, just to make him shut up. Then, he'd tease you about those ideas for the rest of your days. Probably double down on the bunny related nicknames, poke right above your tailbone and make jokes about how he should make you wear a pair of bunny ears and a tail. And then make the tail option extremely not family friendly.

Heaven’s mercy spare you if you give him any more ideas beyond that. Like a skimpy outfit that barely covered your tits and had a crotch narrow enough to give you a wedgie-induced friction burn where friction burns did not belong and would not wish on your worst enemy.

Well, no, maybe you would, but that's besides the point.

You chuffed out your nose and let your head fall back against the cushion between Geto's legs. His fingers found their way back to your scalp, massaging and lightly scratching at it until you were pushing into his hands like a needy kitten.

“Comfortable?” He asked with an amused lilt in his voice, to which you chirped merrily in answer.

You really were. Limbs like jelly, squeaky clean, tired out after playing in the river with them. You felt good, truly and genuinely good.

Aversion to permanent routine or not, you’d welcome every day with open arms if they were like this. Peaceful contentment after a long stretch of sunlit hours, able to let loose and uncoil any strain in your body, it all sounded so…

Happy.

You were okay with being happy like this.

You were okay with forgetting your past and what drove you here in the first place. You didn’t mind having your eyes shift shut, lashes sweeping over the highs of your cheekbones. You were alright with one of your best friends playing idly with your hair, and you were fine with listening to him hum some melody to himself as he did so.

It was okay.

This was okay.

You were okay.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

taglist: @kimi01985

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 7, Unburdened - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, brutal honesty, mentions of some sexy stuff, but no actual sex-on-page, mention of m masturbation,

Word Count: 3k

Previously On...: Bucky spent the entire evening at Jade Carthage's side, and when he calls her "doll," you had enough and stormed off. The two of you have the very first argument of your friendship, and now Bucky says you need to talk...

A/N: I had a very shitty and emotionally draining evening yesterday, so I didn't get any writing done, unfortunately. But I need to make myself feel better somehow, so let's post Chapter 7! I think many of you will agree with me when I say "Fucking finally!" to what transpires here! Alas, though, there are plenty of emotional ups and downs still to come, because that's just life, isn't it?

Also, I finally watched Lisa Frankenstein to cheer myself up last night. What a delightfully messed up, fun, campy romp that was! Highly recommend if you haven't already!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321

The silence in your room felt deafening as you closed the door behind Bucky. For the very first time in your friendship, it felt awkward having him in your space, and you could tell he felt it, too. You crossed over to your sitting area and sat in one of your arm chairs, curling up into yourself. Bucky sat in the chair opposite you, leaning his elbows on his thighs to support his weight. The two of you just stared into space for a long moment, avoiding the other's gaze.

"You wanted to talk," you said eventually, "so talk."

Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, and you could see the sadness and defeat in them. "I'm sorry, Pocket. You're right, I've been an ass all night. I didn't do it with the intention to hurt you, but I hurt you anyway because I wasn't thinking about how my actions would affect you, and that's almost worse. I'm sorry."

You exhaled and looked away from him, afraid that if you held his gaze for too long, you wouldn't be able to stop the tears that would certainly come. "Listen, Buck," you said, swallowing hard, "if you're interested in pursuing something with Jade, that's... well, it's your life, you're free to date whoever you want. We never put any labels or rules on whatever this thing between us is, so I know I don't have any right to be jealous, but watching you flirt so openly with her right in front of me, like I didn't even exist? I can't begin to explain to you how worthless and small that made me feel. So, if you think you want to try for something with her, you have to let me know so I can try to move on, because I can't sit around and watch it happen. It's too painful."

When you looked back over at him, Bucky had gotten up and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you, practically beaming as he took you in.

"Why are you smiling like a lunatic?" you asked, an edge of concern in your voice. "You're creeping me out."

"Pocket," he murmured, cupping your face in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. For a moment, you considered pulling away, but the feel of his lips on your skin was such a comfort, you stayed still. "My absolute one and only doll, you've got it all wrong. I let you get the wrong idea and stew with it and I am so, so sorry."

You did pull away at that. "What are you talking about? How do I have the wrong idea?"

Bucky leaned back until he was resting on his heels. "I am interested in Jade, that's true." He took your hands in his as you felt your heart drop into your stomach. "But not in the way you think." He brought your hands to his lips and began placing kisses across your knuckles. "Doll, there's only been one girl I've been interested in pursuing something with in the last seventy-five years, and I'm sitting across from her right now."

You shook your head, sure you had misheard him. "I don't understand."

He chuckled and looked up at you through his lashes, the sight so beautiful, your breath caught in your chest. "Pocket, I have been crazy about you since the moment you made that god-awful 'unarmed' joke. At first I thought a girl as pretty as you, as smart as you, as good as you, you'd never give a guy like me, even without my history, a second look, and I'd be content to just watch you from the sidelines, you know? Watch you be beautiful and bright and I'd be happy my world was a better place just because you were in it.

"But you went outta your way to be nice to me. You talked Tolkien with me, you wanted to spend time with me, you wanted to be my friend, and I thought 'This is already more than you deserve, it's more than enough.' Then, when I had my nightmare, you didn't run away. You stayed. You stayed, and you understood, you let me hold you, and I-I was a goner for you. And that night...," he groaned at the memory, "God, that night you kissed me back, and you let me touch you, in all the ways I dreamed of touching you, all the ways I'd imagined touching you while I fucked my fist for practically a year, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to give you up after that.

"You'd told me about your past, how you were scared of relationships but, sweetheart, I was so greedy, I'd take any part of you you were willing to give me, your friendship, your body, even if it wasn't ever gonna be your heart. I'd take any crumb you offered me, and I'd be grateful for it."

You blinked your eyes repeatedly, dazed by his confession and unable to articulate words. Bucky's face fell as your silence stretched on.

"You don't feel the same way," he said, voice low as he stood up. "I'm sorry-- I-I shouldn't have dumped all of that on you. I'll go--." He turned and made steps toward your door, but you jumped up, reaching out to grab his arm.

"Bucky, wait," you turned him back to face you and brought your lips crashing to his with such intensity that he stumbled backwards a few steps before wrapping his arms around you to kiss you back.

"I love you," you gasped when you broke apart for air, breathing out a laugh when his eyes widened comically in shock. "I'm so fucking in love with you that it terrifies me, because it's an entirely brand new experience and I don't know how to do it. I'm so worried that I'm going to fuck it up and scare you away, or that you're gonna realize I'm not worth it and I don't even know how to live without you anymore."

Bucky held your face between his hands. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of deception. "You're not fucking with me?"

You shook your head emphatically, bringing your hands up to cover his. "No, no, I'm completely serious. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes." You laughed; the more you said the words, the more you realized how entirely true they were. "I love you and I've been so insanely jealous all night because I thought you were interested in her."

Bucky looked down at you with the brightest smile, like the sun shining after a storm, before pulling you toward him so he could kiss you again. You hadn't even realized you'd started to cry until, after Bucky had pulled away, he was brushing the tears from your cheeks.

"I love you, Pocket," he whispered as he began peppering kisses across your face. "I love you and I'm so sorry for everything I did tonight that would make you doubt that you're the most important person in my life and the best thing to ever happen to me."

The reminder of his earlier actions drew you out of the emotional haze his declaration had put you in. "Wait," you said, pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you, "if you've been in love with me this whole time, how come you've been weird about Jade ever since you saw her profile in those folders Tony gave us?" Bucky ran a hand down his face and sighed. Taking your hand, he led you back to the armchair you'd previously vacated and sat, pulling you down to sit on his lap and wrapping his arms around you.

"I told you that I am interested in Jade," he began, but when he felt you tense beneath him, he quickly continued, "but I'm not interested in dating her, or sleeping with her. You're the only girl who's got my attention in those departments." He paused to nuzzle at the junction of your neck and shoulder and you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.

"Go on," you gently urged him.

"I'm interested in getting to know Jade, in talking to her, because she's... well, she's like me, you know? She's got the serum, and I don't know anyone else who's got it that's still alive."

You put a finger on his chin, tilting his face up to meet yours. "But, Steve," you said, somewhat confused, "he's got the serum, too, and you talk to him all the time."

Bucky sighed and shook his head. "Steve's got Erskine's serum," he told you. "The one made by the U.S. Government. The one that they-- that Hydra-- used on me, it was similar, but not the same."

"It's the same one that was used on Jade," you said, understanding dawning on you.

Bucky nodded. "Not exact, but what's running through her veins evolved from what's runnin' through mine. And they never put her through cryo, she's never been wiped. She was conscious through everything they put her through, all the experiments, the tests... I was excited to think that there was someone I could talk to about it, who understood. Someone who could maybe help me fill in some of the blanks I still have. Answer the questions I've been too ashamed to ask Steve."

"Oh, Buck," you hummed, running your nails gently across his scalp, "Baby, why didn't you ever say anything?"

He arched into your touch. "Because you've already had to put up with enough of my shit," he said. "I didn't want to burden you with any more of it."

You stopped your scratching ministrations and looked at him. "Now listen here, Barnes," you began, your tone serious, "the last thing you could ever be to me is a burden. I have never met anyone who was funnier, kinder, braver, more selfless or caring than you. You're a fucking gift, Bucky. One that I am endlessly grateful for, everyday."

Bucky groaned. "Pocket, you can't just say things like that while you're sitting on my lap. I try to be a gentleman, but I've got my limits."

You laughed and leaned into him, resting your head against him. You picked up his right hand and began tracing his fingers with your own.

"If me talkin' to Jade makes you any kind of uncomfortable, doll, I promise I'll never speak to, or even look at, her again." He caught your eye and you could see the seriousness of his statement in them. You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'm never going to tell you who you can't be friends with, Buck," you told him with a sigh. "I admit that I don't love the idea of you spending one-on-one time with her alone or anything, but I'm also not going to stand in the way of you getting answers you need about your past. But you tell me the second she tries something," you warned. "Super soldier or not, she comes for my man, I'm gonna kick her fucking ass."

"You've got nothin' to worry about, darlin'. I told you, in seventy-five years, it's only been you. Seventy-five years more, it's still always only ever be you." His words made your heart swell in your chest and you leaned in to kiss him again. "Mm, but say that again," he told you.

"The part where I'm gonna kick her ass?" you asked with a smirk.

"No," he said, nipping at the sensitive skin at the pulse point on your neck, "the part where you called me your man."

You shifted so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs at the nape. You leaned in close so you could whisper in his ear: "You're my man, Bucky Barnes." A full shiver went through Bucky's body at your words and you relished in the effect you had over him. He ran his vibranium hand up under the back of your shirt, tracing gentle circles on the skin of your lower back.

"And you're always gonna be my girl, Pocket." His flesh hand came up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the motion, combined with his words, so tender your breath hitched.

Something seemed to shift in that moment, the air growing thick and heady between you, as if you were both just realizing the new depth of your relationship for the first time.

"Bucky," you breathed, voice barely a whisper, eyes pleading.

He nodded and, placing one hand at the small of your back and the other under your knees and scooping you up as he stood. With the utmost care, he laid you down on the mattress of your bed and rested his body over yours, careful not to put too much of his weight on top of you.

"This feels different," he said as brushed your hair away from your face.

"Good different or bad different?" you asked, bringing your hands up to cup his face, the stubble scratching your palms.

"The very best different." He leaned down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was unlike any you'd shared before-- sweeter, more languid, as though you'd been forced to rush every previous kiss and you were both finally allowed to take your time. Bucky tasted like smoked whiskey as his tongue made leisurely sweeps across your mouth, eliciting a moan from you when he sucked on your bottom lip.

You could feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as you kissed, Bucky's flesh hand roaming up the soft skin of your side. He shifted, pressing more of his weight against you, as if he were desperate to be closer, and you could feel the hard press of his erection against your thigh.

You rocked your hips up against his pelvis, drawing a guttural moan from Bucky's throat. He pulled back, drawing himself up on his haunches. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shirt, teasing the edges as he looked up at you, silently asking you for permission. You nodded, sitting up and raising your hands over your head so he could slide your shirt off. As soon as it was free of your arms, Bucky tossed it aside and brought his lips to your shoulder, kissing his way across your collarbone.

Reaching down, you grabbed the hem of his Henley, slowly rolling it up over his abdomen, placing soft kisses on the hard lines of muscles it revealed. Once you'd fully divested him of his shirt, you let your hands roam the broad expanse of his chest, your lips and tongue trailing open-mouthed kisses across the raised pink scars at his mangled shoulder.

"You don't have to," he said, subtly pulling his shoulder back.

"Shush." You pulled him closer, continuing to kiss his puckered flesh. "I love every inch of you, Bucky. You're beautiful."

He pulled away from you, blue eyes boring into yours like he couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him.

"How are you even real?" he asked, bringing your lips to his once again, his kisses growing more desperate. "I swear to God, Pocket, 'm gonna take you out, date you so fuckin' hard. Be the best goddamned boyfriend you've ever had."

He wanted to be your boyfriend. Not long ago, those words might have terrified you, but now, with the emotions you'd finally both let yourselves express, they thrilled you.

"You gonna take me to brunch, Barnes?" you teased, nipping at his skin as you rolled your hips up into his, your words coming out in gasps between the mewls of pleasure he was drawing from you. "We goin' to the farmer's market? Fuck--- Spend weekends at bed-n-breakfasts in Vermont?"

Bucky growled as he ground his hips down into yours, the length of his erection pressing down against your clothed clit and making you moan. "Sweetheart, I'll do anything you want. You wanna ride around the city on one of those tandem bicycles?" A dragging of his hips that had you arching your back. "I'm here for it. You wanna share a bowl of spaghetti like those dogs in that movie? I'm your man."

"Baby, I would never make you get on a tandem bike," you gasped, faux scandalized at the suggestion. "A swan paddle boat, maybe, but never a tandem bike. I respect you too much for that."

Bucky laughed as he buried into the crook of your neck. "I'd do it for you, anyway."

"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," you told him with a smile.

"Oh, baby," he moaned, licking a stripe along the side of your neck that had you shivering, "We gotta fix that. I'm gonna romance the absolute shit out of you." He moved his mouth, placing kisses down your collar bone, between the valley of your breasts, and down your stomach. You bit your lip as his hands reached the waistband of your pants, his eyes looking up to meet yours as he slowly, so agonizingly slowly, began unbuttoning them.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), Sgt. Barnes," FRIDAY's voice echoed across the room. Bucky groaned and dropped his head on your pelvis at the interruption. "Mr. Stark requests your immediate return to the common room."

It was your turn to groan now as you threw your head back onto the pillow. "How much trouble do you think we'll be in if we just ignore it?" you asked him, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled as he leaned over to pick up your discarded shirts from the floor. "We don't go, he's libel to come barging in, and I don't know about you, but I'm not keen on Stark getting a load of my bare ass as I'm plowing balls-deep into his favorite little protégé," he said, winking at you as he pulled his Henley back over his head.

"Ew," you laughed, "everyone knows Parker's Tony's favorite little protégé these days. Thank you for that mental image."

Bucky shot you a sardonic look. "Arms, smartass," he said, indicating for you to lift your arms above your head so he could put your shirt back on you. "You got some mouth on you. I ever tell you how much I love it?"

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[riality-check]

part 3 of... whatever this au is. here's part 1 and part 2 if you missed them. tw substance abuse. part 4 here. part 5 here. part 6 here. part 7 here.

ao3

"You ever taken a hit?"

"Excuse me?"

First, Harrington calls his songs "boring" and "repetitive." "Talking about all the same thing." And, yeah, maybe he does have a point. Maybe Eddie can't write about much else, but that's a casualty of not being able to think about much else.

Everyone says addiction is selfish, and they're right. No one talks about how recovery is, too.

So, sorry that he's consumed by notoriously all-consuming things.

But then, Harrington shows up late to the studio. Granted, Eddie was, too, but Harrington stumbled into the little room fifteen minutes after the time Chrissy set up for them, ever-present coffee in hand.

And now he asks that.

"Like a punch," he explains. "Have you ever been hit?"

Eddie lets out a breath. "Yeah, I've been hit."

He thinks back to being a freshman in high school, what feels like forever ago, and getting shoved and tripped and swirlied by senior jock assholes.

There were never any closed-fist punches, but Eddie thinks he gets the idea.

"So you know that it feels good."

Eddie stares at him. "Good is not the word-"

"There's a moment," Harrington interrupts, and Eddie wants to kill him, "between the impact and the pain. You feel everything: how their hand feels, whether they're wearing rings, if they're holding something. And that might not feel good, but right after they hit you, everything is warm. And it feels really good, right until the pain sets in."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, not really, so he mouths off. "Got a lot of experience?"

"Four diagnosed concussions," Harrington replies.

Well. Eddie wasn't expecting that.

Just like he wasn't expecting Harrington's music to actually be good. He stayed up with the band last night, listening. And, yeah, he didn't like the goddamn synth chords, but reading along with the lyrics...

It was impressive. Eddie was impressed, okay?

Harrington's lyrics are far-ranging and emotionally impactful. He writes about family and love and survival in these really compelling, sometimes upbeat, sometimes not, ways. He writes about getting better and getting back up and fighting and Eddie gets it. He gets why Chrissy got his help.

Because not only is Harrington a rising star with a voice that Eddie thinks could be a little grittier if he put in the effort, but he also knows how to write about a lot of stuff.

And Eddie, since - since all of it, has clearly forgotten how to do so.

So, maybe, just maybe, he should start throwing his expectations about Harrington out the window.

"You know what it feels like," Harrington says. "So write about it."

Eddie sighs and lets his head flop onto the back of the couch. He hears Steve shift in his chair, hears him yawn.

In the silence, he wonders if he's sipping his coffee or covering his mouth like he did last week.

Eddie thinks that if he finds out the answer, he'll need a cigarette to kill the itch that'll inevitably spring up.

"Or not," Harrington mumbles.

Eddie drops his head forward. "Give a guy a second, will you? I don't know how-"

"Well, I'm here to help, not spoon-feed you lyrics."

"I didn't ask-"

"Oh, believe me, I know."

"Then why the hell-"

"Write about losing," Harrington snaps.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. "What?"

"You write about-"

"I know what I write about."

"Then you should know," Harrington says, raising his voice, "that there was a point where you wanted to give in."

Eddie shuts his mouth, and, despite his better instincts, leans forward, toward Harrington, far enough that his knees hit the coffee table between the couch and the chair.

"Because when you're fighting monsters, a little part of you thinks, it would be so much easier if I just lost. If I threw up my hands and let them get me."

Eddie thinks back to waking up after blackouts. To being carried places and dunked under cold water to sober the fuck up before we go out there. To figuring out ways to stay higher longer, refusing to be beholden to the inevitable crash.

And he hates that Steve Harrington has somehow found that out about him, however vaguely.

"Lot of experience with monsters?" Eddie says because damn if Harrington gets to cut him without getting cut back.

Harrington leans forward in turn. "You have no idea."

He picks up the black ballpoint pen on the coffee table and shoves it toward Eddie, toward his blank notepad.

Eddie bites his tongue, takes it, and writes lyrics and a lead guitar part in the fastest time he's ever managed, with Harrington as a sounding board, offering his suggestions.

They're good suggestions.

It's going to be a good song.

It's too bad that Eddie can't stand Harrington's smug smirks and his terrifying assumptions and his little bit of spaciness. It's too bad that after he sees Harrington swipe at his nose - even though it's probably not like that - when they're done that Eddie has to go outside and smoke two cigarettes to stop thinking about it.

Otherwise, they might actually make a good team.

[papirouge]

This exchange made me realize that many of you tend to forget that Carmy is a late bloomer who never had any girlfriend before Claire which actually explains his awkward behavior. I know it because I too am an awkward late bloomer (around the same age as Carmy and sharing a lot of common with him) and his behavior totally made sense to me lol

I want you all to keep in mind that when you've been closed off romantic elationships for your entire life, you're not handling them the same way people who started dating in their teens or young adult years (Carmy is most likely in his early 30s and never got into any relationships before).

Carmy, like any late bloomer, was used to never being considered romantically, which explains why he freaked out when Claire started flirting with him and stopped thinking rationally (which is very unfamiliar for emotionally avoidant type like Carmy or I - we'll come back to this later). I understand Carmy's move of giving a false number to Claire yet still accepting to go out with her later may be confusing to many people, but as a fellow late bloomer I immediately clocked it : we are not comfortable with the attention people give to us, but we *know* this behavior is not normal/unhealthy so Carmy eventually giving in may be a way of eventually getting into the mold and abide to the "if you don't open up to others and give them chances, how can you expect building actual relationships?" mantra. Because deep down we want to be like others (because being so closed off all the time can become emotionally draining) and seek to find a way to fit in.

Another thing about people like Carmy/emotional avoidant type is that by being so closed off to the world, we are also extremely deceptive about who we truly are. It makes sense to me that Carmy hides his feelings for Syd and would rather project them onto Claire. That's definitely manipulative, but we'd rather do that than get "uncovered". We tend to think very rationally and our sense of self perseveration is incredibly strong. I just know that howing his bare feelings has to be one of the most terrifying and embarrassing thing for Carmy.

We also don't mind getting confused as someone we are not in which we feel some sort of relief because it keeps our real self away from others perception (if that make sense???). Carmy passing himself as "Logan" in that party -while being quite extreme- is totally on brand actually lol. I regularly get mistaken as a male (I'm lowkey gnc) but I never bother correcting people lol I'm fine being whatever they see me as, as long it's not the real me.

Talking about self preservation: we don't ask and don't tell. Carmy sister being mad at him for never asking her whether she was okay was extremely relatable because I tend to get the same reproach from my own sisters. Very typical of us. Fleeing to the other side of the globe to cope with a family member death is something I *get* because we are avoidant in nature. We can also be insane hustlers and tend to cope with grief or unhealed emotions through work.

On the positive side, we are extremely independent and self reliant. The scene in the fridge (last episode of season 2) where Carmy loses his shit and says he was mad at himself for indulging in all "this bullshit" (= love and relationships) I FELT THAT. Countless times I prayed to God to remove from my heart my "shameful" longing for love & intimacy that I always felt hindered me in my quest for excellence & satisfaction in any other aspect of my life. Because we are very rational & practical people and lowkey despise "useless" stuff like relationships and feelings. And that's where the messed up part comes up.

I wouldn't be surprised Carmy lowkey despises Claire for being so clingy and courting him so openly. As I just said, we tend to look down on (bold) displayal of love and emotion which lowkey repulse us. I think that's why Carmy dislikes his sister's husband when he's an all around good guy. He may have a resentment (and even jealousy?) against this man that has no issue showing affection - not only to his sister, but also the rest of the family. Which Carmy still struggles to do so far.

This may also explain why Carmy is suddenly so cold with Claire when he's serving her at the table (beside him allegedly previously making up his mind to break up with her). That's why the moment he hears that voicemail of Claire saying she "loves him" he THROWS AWAY his phone. Because that's disgusting.

I think the CarmyxSyd dynamic is unique because there's a dimension of respect between both. They share the same passion for cuisine, and Sydney constantly pushes Carmy out of his comfort zone. As an avoidant emotional attachment type myself, when I think of the type of people I potentially could be attracted to, I can only think of people I have deeply respect for, and bring objective value into my life AND skills. I've seen people criticize the fact that Sydney was pretty much a "warrior worker" for Carmy (and pretty much the whole Bear crew) and that's true. But regardless it's a good or bad thing, that's pretty much the type of profile that may attract avoidant emotional type of people. Bonding through work & shared passion is our safest field to build romantic connection through. That's why Carmy made Syd sign a partnership agreement instead of a marriage contract 💅🏾 that's the safest way for him to convey his feelings.

Again, we are very rational people and in every type of relationship, we instinctively jauge whether & how this person might be useful for us. It doesn't mean we built relationship with people depending on whether they can be useful for us or not, but that's definitely in a part of our head somewhere. Yes, that's fucked up (1/because we are 2/that's why emotionally distant people can become pretty unlikable - i.e Carmy carmying), but you have to keep that in mind to understand how Carmy moves. Which tracks back to Claire's actual purpose I've elaborated just before. He definitely uses her, but most likely unknowingly.

[buckyarchives]

Metal Arms and Short Skirts | Bucky Barnes [2.]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. while bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, you're more than happy to help him.

words: 4.3K

warnings; creepy men (+bucky fending them off) slight body dysphoria on buckys end

author note : HI I KNOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UP LIKE & DAYS AGO... aib came out and ive been hyperfixaed on that and my brother got frostbite so wump wump was at the hospital on chrimis. i have mixed feelings on this chapter, but i hope you enjoy. and im still taking request.

READ ON AO3 | masterlist

Bucky wasn't going to pretend to be completely oblivious and say he wasn't finding every and any excuse to visit you. Whether it be a tear in his muscle or the sound of the metal whizzing sounding off, something bucky would have ignored with absolutely no thought. Bucky maintained a comfortable distance between you two, physically and emotionally, staying at arm's length. But something about today seemed to be different. 

Bucky shifted nervously in his seat, he watched your stride around your lab. You finally got your own area after 2 weeks of staying at the compound. It almost put Tony's lab to shame, it was huge and decked out with technology far too advanced for bucky to even understand. 

Today, You wore a black bustier that seemed to shape your form, thick and sturdy paneling sewn into the shirt, if that is what you can even call it. The neck hung low, low enough to leave very little to the imagination. Bucky practically had to tear his eyes away from your neckline when he first walked into the lab.

Bucky's excuse today was a deep cut on the side of Bucky's flesh bicep. Coming back from a quick and easy mission, but Clint needed to watch his arrows since one slit past bucky’s arm on the way to the actual enemy behind him. Bucky had a sneaky guess it was on purpose. 

You gathered the plaster and made your way back to bucky, footsteps echoing as you walked. A sigh escaped your lips, but bucky only caught a small smile. “You know, bucky. You can't come in here every time you have a small cut.”

“Isn't that what you're being paid for?” bucky snarked back, watching your hands as they gently grabbed at his lower arm. Your touch was always so delicate, like you were going to break him rather than heal. 

“Ha, ha.” you mocked. “I could have been making some ground-breaking discovery or invention before you walked in.”

Bucky's eyebrow quirked up eagerly. “Were you?”

A closed-mouthed hum escaped your lips. Your all too perfect pedicured hand wrapped the white bandage around bucky's arm, he was just watching your face as you worked. Couldn’t– wouldn't tear his eyes away. 

“Not really, just researching some stuff about scarring and skin stuff,” you spoke, dumbing it down for bucky. 

During bucky's visit, he’d always ask about everything, trying to catch up with the technology of the 21st century, or maybe just to hear your voice. He didn't understand half the things you spoke about, though he never mentioned it, but you figured it out soon enough and started to simplify it the best you could.

“Scarring?”

“Helen has some idea about how to better rid of scars.” your hand smoothed against his bicep as you finished, and your touch sent a good burn through him. Giving him a warm smile like you always did when you finished.

Bucky's eyes glanced down to his left shoulder for a moment, the ugly scarring that single-handedly destroyed most of his bodily confidence. The permanent mark of what Hydra did to him as they chopped it off and made him part machine. Bucky scoffed to cover up the obvious self-depreciation in his voice, “need a test subject?”

You flinched at his words, surprised, being taken aback by his response. Only then when you looked him up and down, settling on his clothes shoulder, your face fell and a sympathetic look flashed. It was covered by his tanktop but you knew what was under there, you'd seen the photos, you'd seen him. 

You sat back down on your little rolly stool. “I'm surprised you’d suggest that, based on your history, I'd expect you to not be so keen on being poked and prodded.”

Memories flashed Hydra's methods at tearing his humanity, mind, and body apart, all those experiments. But they quickly subdued, how could bucky think of something so cruel when you stat right in front of him, which in bucky's opinion, is perfection. 

“I think I'd be okay with it if it was you.” bucky said quietly, honestly– a confession even. 

A fond smile rose to your face, one you quickly bit back. Narrow eyes met him when you tilted your head slightly, shying away. “Good to know you trust me.”

“Always.”

“But–” you sighed, “I'm going to have to decline, Bucky. For now, you'll have to live with what your shoulder looks like. Sorry.”

Bucky dramatically groaned, trying to mask the obvious pain and disappointment he actually felt. “You're killing me, doll.”

Your ears warmed at the nickname. Averting your eyes for a moment from shyness. You knew bucky despised the scarring that painted his left shoulder, the one that connected the man to metal. You could only lend him some comfort in the situation, no amount of medical technology right now could completely ease his worries.

“Bucky?”

His head perked up, a hum escaped his lips as he put all his attention on you.

“You wanna see something really cool?” you smirked.

Bucky noticed the slight smirk tugging at your lips, he could only react by biting back a smile of his own. “Sure, doll.”

You leaned down to the hem of your right pant leg, slowly hiking up the baggy jeans that hung low on your waist. Slowly revealing a large and messy scar on your kneecap, nothing as bad as bucky's many scars that littered his body. But something definitely bad happened for you to have that, even fully healed now.

“When I was a kid, I used to skate a lot.” you started, bucky's eyes bouched back up to your face. “I got on a gravel road and fell down and my knee landed right on a huge sharp rock and just logged itself right into my knee.”

You laughed looking back on the memory. “Hurt like hell for 14-year-old me and I had to get so many stitched, it was the worst.” a cheeky smile grew as you spoke through a laugh. “Especially for my dream of becoming a knee model.”

Bucky laughed with you as you dropped your pant leg, sitting back up to look at bucky. Bucky didn't say anything and hung his head low when a silence grew in the lab, only the sound of lab tech whizzing in the background. Bucky mostly just wanted to bask at this moment with you, letting himself enjoy the light-hearted nature of your conversations. The way you and he feel warm inside, lighter than ever.

You smacked your lips as you rose from your seat. Bucky's eyes begrudgingly followed you, “you have to learn to love every part of yourself, despite the bad memories. Because it makes you…”

Stopping in your place, turning to him as your eyes traveled up and down his body, the gesture weirdly didn’t make bucky cringe and crawl into himself the way most gazes did. 

“... you.” you smiled again and bucky felt dizzy. “And I think you're pretty cool.”

You turned away to continue whatever you were doing. Bucky muttered your statement under his breath, loud enough for him to hear it again but quiet enough so you wouldn't.

Bucky rose from his place on the workbench, after many visits he practically claimed this spot. As it sat right in the middle of your lab. Despite everything inside of him wanting to stay near you and soak up your presence. He headed for the door.

“Thanks, doc,” Bucky called out.

“Anytime, bucky. I'll be here when you come in with another excuse to see me,” you spoke coyly. Bucky's eyes widened and warmth crept up to his face. 

He sputters for words to save his pride, stumbling over his poor excuse of an explanation. “Maybe I just wanna see your cool outfits.” bucky's face scrunched up, cringing at his own pathetic words. He wondered what the 40s version of himself would say now, probably something sly and confident that’d knock you off your feet.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky.” he corrected, again. But maybe it was just an excuse to linger longer at your door.

You smiled at him and repeated, “bucky.”

“You're going on a date with her.” 

Bucky's eyes widened, his head snapping towards Natasha. “I’m what?”

A frustrated groan leaves Natasha's lips as she shifts in her uncomfy office seat. Half of the Avengers team sat in an office going over a mission coming up, but - like most things - it turned into them talking about anything but that, and successfully annoying the hell out of Steve. 

“I set you up on a date with her.” Natasha spoke, referring to you. “I cannot keep watching you get beat up during missions just so you can see her, so you're going on a date.”

Bucky was dumbfounded, to say the least, lost for words as he stared at the woman in front of him. “Why would I go on a date with her?”

Over the past week or two, Bucky began to deny his fondness towards you when you interrupted a meeting to talk to Tony, or popped into the common rooms to talk about new tech, or how you practically strutted through the compound like you own the place. 

or when you slowly build up bucky’s confidence without either or you realizing it. 

Always in short skirts, or colorful and dramatic tops, and in heels or boots that echo loudly throughout the halls. Bucky denies the way his eyes drag along your figure, always lingering on your face longer than he needs to, the way if you look close enough, Bucky's eyes light up a little when you enter the room. Bucky denies it, but he can't fake it.

And Natasha clocked that quickly. 

“the way you look at her tells me you want to,” Natasha spoke coyly. She always read bucky better than anyone else in the room— similar background and all. a defeated groan comes from bucky in return, followed by a slightly pouted lip. Natasha gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder

A scoff was heard from the other side of the table. “Is the cyborg cable of feelings?” Tony snarked, his head down looking at a sheet of paper. Chewing slightly at a pen. 

“Ha. ha. Very funny.” Bucky mocked. “How do you even know she wants to go on a date with me? I can’t imagine she agreed to this?”

self-consciousness slowly crept up bucky's spine, he can’t face rejection if he denies, denies, and denies.

Natasha went to speak but Tony Stark does what he does best and interrupts her. With a hefty laugh coming up from his chest, he dropped the pen and papers down on the table. Leaning forward to face bucky. “Are you kidding me? You’re like a wet dream to her, always injured and part robot. Hits all of her boxes''

“I'm surprised she hasn’t mounted yo-”

“Okay Tony, I think that's enough talking.” Steve interrupted before he could finish his sentence. Tony’s comment earned a choked laugh from both Natasha and Sam.

“Anyways.” Natasha continued. “I know because she already agreed to it. Everything is already set up.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, hoping his hair covers his growing red ears. Steve spoke up, “Just give it a chance buck. You might enjoy it.” oh steve, hopeful as ever.

“I’m sure you'll enjoy it, it’s very much your style,” Natasha spoke, her infamous smirk growing on her face. 

“That scares me.” 

*****

Turns out Natasha was right, it is very much Bucky's style. Natasha had planned (with the help of Steve, because of-fucking-course) a date at a fancy, old-style diner, and every Saturday night they clear the floor and play some old music for some swing dancing. Just bucky’s style, he knows this was Steve’s idea. more than sure after years of watching plenty of girls swoon over Bucky with just one twirl and one short dance, Steve would think this is right up his alley. And it was.

Now Bucky stands outside a busy and bustling diner, upbeat 40s music echoing to the streets. Flowers in hand and a nice black collared shirt under a vintage jacket (it was from the museum and Steve name-dropped at least 12 times to get it back), waiting patiently for you to arrive. Bucky fiddled with his hands a little, his eyes kept darting to his watch— is he too early? When are you arriving? Bucky’s now convinced you wouldn’t show up. Because who would honestly want to go on a date with h–

“James!” a cheery voice broke through his very self-deprecating thoughts. Bucky turned around and swore his heart stopped beating, just for it to speed up even faster when his sights landed on you.

You wore the same boots that caught Wanda's eyes in the common room that quiet day. His eyes followed up your legs, past your thighs as he saw the dress you wore. It was stripped and sparkly, bucky would see the shine from down the street. It felt like you wore the entire rainbow and more as every stripe was painted differently. It was sleeveless and high-necked. And of course, very short.

An excited smile greeted him as you waved your hand. Your pace sped up as Bucky met you, he wondered how you didn't trip in those high heels constantly.

 “Hi,” Bucky said, wanting to hit himself for how awkward he sounded. 

“Sorry for being late, I didn't mean to make you wait.” you stood before him, and he noticed your makeup. You painted your lips with a darker shade than usual and you had little shiny gems glued around your eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it, I just got here too,” Bucky spoke softly, bringing the flowers up to you. “For you.”

Your eyes instantly lit up at the sight, taking the bouquet from him “thank you! you didn't need to get these for me, James.”

 Bucky's heart fluttered slightly at the name, it was rare for people to use his first name nowadays. You brought the flowers to your nose, smelling them with a blissful look on your face. Laughing to yourself.

“What's so funny?” the super-soldier asked.

“Oh no, it’s nothing.” you looked back down at the flower. “I don’t think anyone has ever gotten me flowers before.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, “really?”

“Mhmm.” you rocked back and forth on your heels, “thank you for being the first.”

You smiled warmly up at Bucky as you did so often, but the aura of everything made it so much more this time.

“Let's head in?” Bucky cocked his head towards the diner. 

Nodding, “yes, please.” you threaded along, catching Bucky off guard when you swiftly grabbed ahold of his hand. Your fingers wrapped around his flesh hand, the warmth made Bucky feel funny in his stomach. Yeah, Bucky might have a crush on you.

You lead him into the diner, confident in your walk like usual. Your eyes spotted an empty seat and the both of you settled yourselves in a booth. You make quick eye contact and Bucky's mouth gaped like he's going to say something but is stopped when the waiter comes up. The waiter looks like she blends in with the scenery, with pinned-up hair and a bright red lip. She asks for your order and you both get water, and a milkshake. 

“I can imagine why Natasha picked this place out of everything,” you say, eyes off into the distance, Bucky follows your gaze and sees the dance floor of people together with large smiles. “Though, I don't know how to dance.”

Bucky's lip quirks up slightly, “I can teach you.”

“Perfect, let’s go then.” your smile widely, and your already getting up, standing next to bucky's seat and holding a hand out. Bucky’s surprised by your sudden willingness but despite the nervousness in his stomach - he takes your hand. 

Bucky may have been nervous standing outside the diner. May have been nervous as he greeted and met you outside. May have been nervous as you led him inside and watched you from across the table. But once he stepped out onto the swing floor, the soft sound of 40s music playing in the background. The sweet-talking James Buchanan – that seemed to flirt with every girl that met him – came back from the dead, and he had his arm around your waist in no time.

You noticed the sudden confidence and glint in his eyes suddenly, reaching up to grab his neck. Bucky held you at your waist, then he noticed the gold chain hung around your hips. His fingers grazed over them for a moment before they rested at the smallest part of your waist.

Your wide eyes met his and bucky swore for a moment, he couldn't breathe. “How was the mission?”

A groan escaped Bucky's mouth, playfully he rolled his eyes. Trying to sound annoyed, but his smile said otherwise. “Oh god, I don't wanna talk about work.”

Bucky’s hands stayed planted on your waist. You smiled as you continued to sway together along to the soft jazz in the background. You tugged nervously at your lip, “you know, I was getting worried when I heard you guys weren’t getting back on time.”

“You worry about me?” Bucky was stunned, an unfamiliar warmth shot through him as you averted your gaze. He took one hand to pull at your chin, so you were looking at him. Your mouth gaped open for a moment and your brain studdered before you just shrugged in response, a slight nod.

The familiar sound of the music speeding up, the upbeat sound of Harry James filled Bucky’s ears and for a moment Bucky was in the 40s again with a girl in his arms ready to be shipped out to war. A sentimental smile grew on his face.

“You ready to learn how to dance.” Bucky beamed down at you and before you could even respond, Bucky pushed your body away from him abruptly. Just to grab your hand before you could fall, twirling you around and back close to his chest. 

It all happened so fast and you yelped once your back hit his chest. His arm wrapped across your body and held your hand. You breathed and smiled widely. “I might step on your toes.

“I can handle it, doll.”

******

A few songs later and a couple of toes crushed, followed by a slew of apologies from you. You and Bucky ended up breathing heavily and slightly sweaty from dancing. Bucky swung you around like you weighed nothing - which to him - you probably did. Lots of music ranging from the 40s to 60s played throughout the diner, to which Bucky snarks at the fact he didn’t recognize the songs, always followed by light laughter.

The dancing came to a slow, but you two remained on the floor still. It was getting late and you hadn’t even eaten yet and most couples and groups of friends had gone back to their seats. You swayed comfortably in Bucky's arms still, your head laid on his chest listening to the soft beat of his heartbeat. 

Bucky Barnes is a more than qualified trained assassin with heightened senses. He's very aware of his surroundings at all times, so when he notices the man peering at your thighs and ass, his eyes narrow toward the man. A glimpse of the winter soldier showed, but the creep didn't seem to pay any attention to Bucky's gaze.

Every so politely, Bucky attempted to tug at your dress without it seeming like he was trying to grope you. Also, swiftly and smoothly twirling you around so the man's gaze would be fixed on bucky's broad shoulders. Effectively protecting you from perverted stares as his body towards over you.

You noticed the way Bucky's body stiffened when he spun you, looking up at him once again. “You okay?”

Bucky nodded and gave you a reassuring squeeze around your waist. “Let’s head back? I'm hungry.”

You agreed quickly and grabbed Bucky's hand, pulling him off the dance floor and guiding him back to the table where your two drinks sat warm now. You slid into the booth with a large exhale, sitting across from Bucky. The waiter decked out in 40s apparel and took your orders, your food coming in no time. It was a poor excuse for dinner per se, only ordering fries and cheese curds to simply snack on. 

“You make a good dance partner.” Bucky mutters, mouth muffled with fries. 

“Chew.” 

Buckys recoils in embarrassment and covers his mouth, face tinted red from dancing. He swallows and lowers his hand. “sorry.”

“Thank you.” you sigh, pushing your food away from you. “You did most of the work, but I'd like to keep practicing.”

Bucky stopped, and looked at you as you stared intently into him. Bucky flustered mix. 

“Are you gonna keep blushing or accept my offer on a second date.” you shoot back and Bucky feels the air leave his lungs. His ears are definitely burning red.

“I'm not bushing? What are you talking about? This is me worn out from all the dancing.`` Bucky plays dumb, throwing a fry into the basket between the two of you. Slowly pulling out his billfold from his jeans.

Your eyes roll dramatically, as a scoff escapes your lips. “Yeah, okay. Super soldier.” 

Bucky narrows his eye’s toward you, a grin plastered on his face. “I'd love to go on a second date.”

You bite back a grin. “Ready?” you asked, bucky puts down the money to pay and nodded. Bucky gives you a boyish smile that you'd only recognized from old war photos. It warms you to the core, leaving you flustered. He grabs at your hand as you let him drag you out of the diner, a secure arm around your waist.

The light breeze of new york hit both of you, your hands instantly going up to your arms to warm yourself. Bucky notices all too quickly and instantly wraps his jacket around you. 

“Oh, thank you. Are you cold?” you ask, seemingly genuinely worried.

“Doll.” he stares down at you, and bucky speaks like the answer is obvious, which– it kinda is. “I hiked through Siberia in less.” 

“Whatever.” you scoff and roll your eyes, tugging the jacket closer around your body. the corners of your mouth slowly creeping up.

The faint scent of bucky comes off of it, sandalwood and pine mostly. You're used to the smell when he's not coming into your lab sweaty or bloody from missions and workouts. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, filtered out by the busy city around you.

“So… I’ll see you tomorrow?” you speak awkwardly, unsure of where to go from here.

“Yep, tomorrow.” Bucky strings on the word, are also awkward. 

You could cut the tension with a knife.

“Or…” your voice raises a few octaves as you turn on your heels to face him, barely a foot between the two of you.  

Bucky's eyebrow quirks up, “Or?” 

“Or you could come back to my very, very nice and cozy apartment that isn't full of agents and superhumans.”

You flashed your best and greatest grin toward Bucky, and the way you were looking at him made Bucky want to crumble beneath his knees. You shouldn't have this effect on him, his heart tugged towards you in a weird, mysterious way that Bucky wasn't familiar with yet. He wasn't going to lie and say it didn’t stress him out a tiny bit.

Bucky let out a heavy, pained exhale and stepped a little closer to you. “Not tonight, doll. sorry.”

“It's okay.” your face dropped slightly, but then you looked up at him and a flash of something came across your feature and soon a smirk was replaced. “Then let me have this.”

“What–?”

Bucky was cut off by your warm hands cupping his face and lips as he received the most gentle kiss he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Initial shock ran through his body at the suddenness, and just as he accepted the feeling and went to melt into the kiss— you pulled away. Bucky felt so cold without you against him, he hated feeling cold.

“Wait, no.” he eagerly grabbed your face to pull you back in. Bucky didn't care if he sounded needy, because he did need this. noticing a glimpse of your more than satisfied grin before he shut his eyes and let himself feel your touch.

It was like you were meant for bucky, the perfect puzzle piece as your lips molded against each other. Slow and passionate, his hand ghosted above your waist before he pulled you full against his body. If it wasn't for your wedged heels, Bucky wasn't sure if you'd even reach his lips with the way you stood on your toes. 

Pulling away, Bucky felt dizzy, like he was drunk off of you. He swears he saw stars in your eyes, the street lights reflecting off your irises. Soft laughter came from you, you bowed your head as bucky stared at you. Practically mesmerized. 

To you, Bucky looked like he was in some sort of shock. Which wouldn’t be too far from the truth, which scared you slightly.

“Everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” you asked innocently, a pang of worry laced your tone.

Bucky frantically shook his head, “no, no– god no. just not used to that.”

“That?” 

“I mean.” Bucky thought for a moment, collecting his mind. “Being kissed. I've always been the one to initiate.”

You smiled sweetly, seeing hints of a flustered, young boyish version of Bucky. One that he, and everyone else swore was long gone. You had always thought otherwise, and tonight proves you right.

“I hope it wasn’t too jarring for you.” you nervously chuckled. 

“It was perfect.”

_

tag list;@matchat3a @sebsgirl71479 @heavenswrld @ivywasmaroon

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

finished re-reading the jewel arc & I have thoughts...

The plot is about Ranma making Shampoo "say she loves him," yet the climax says his heart is unwaveringly Akane's. Ahampoo shows interest? He pulls away. Akane's "interest" is way more intense, yet he pulls closer

Notably, all the fiancées tell Ranma they love him in this arc, but only Akane's declaration gets to him. It reminds him that love is supposed to be something you feel and not a mindless challenge to win

These two panels being only a couple of pages apart really spell things out. Look at Ranma being put off by just a "hot stare" vs instantly leaning in and ~staring~ at Akane after an intense love confession. Atrociously down bad.

Similar to Tsubasa calling him ugly, Shampoo's rejection is framed as an attack, not just on his ego, but on his self-worth (this time also tied to public judgment). He reacts to both as if it were a challenge, his fighting aura visible... but the differences are interesting

The challenge against Tsubasa is clearly about looks, but with Shampoo at its core is more about likability. She doesn't attack his looks, she says he's a scum (and so should be hated). Even if he's like "am I no longer irresistible?" he's focusing on love, not attraction

When he's looking for validation with Ukyo, he doesn't ask "am I attractive to you?" (which is what you would associate with "being irresistible") but "do you love me?" (am I the type of guy girls fall in love with? ... that's what he connects with "irresistible")

Much to say about Ranma being emotionally stunted but this is the kind of stuff showing that at his core, he's a soft, romantic guy, jerk-ness notwithstanding. Classmates might say it's about desire (because THEY're horny lol) but he never goes there. Freaks out at the suggestion even

You can see the contrast with the classmates from the beginning (horny talk) while Ranma is focused on Akane's smile... his fantasies with girls are always something romantic with Akane, and it's hundreds of chapters before his interest in seeing Akane naked is brought up.

Ranma's personal space is invaded with frequency, which affects him, but all interest for him is tied to romance. There's a certain distance in challenges and playing characters, but I don't think he's comfortable with being desired from up close... unless he's in love (Akane)

And even then it's difficult for him. You can see how much he's about romance when he does not react at all to Shampoo's bridal fit (the cutest she has ever looked mind you... and yet) and with Akane just the sigh gets a big reaction

I think it makes sense to be a soft romantic at heart and struggle with being disliked. Wanting space from someone who annoys you doesn't mean you want/can take actual hostility from them. Being "dumped" is also a form of "losing" and Ranma must win absolutely everything.

Every step of the way he frames this as a challenge, a matter of reputation, armor, strategy, etc... without ever processing there are real, actual feelings at play (love is a battle, a simple challenge, instead of.... you know, love... he's not associating any of it with feelings! ... until Akane "confesses"). Other characters misjudge him for the bit, but Kasumi/Nabiki as a duo usually get it right

Akane can get angry because of misunderstandings/insecurities, but sometimes she's angry because she's being more perceptive and mature than Ranma and simply sees he's being an insensitive dumbass. (Ranma telling her not to be jealous also indicates he's not processing/seeing this as wanting someone else)

Sidenotes: it hits me that Shampoo is really a cat lol only truly dangerous when she feels (emotionally) cornered but otherwise she's just fucking around. “She hates me fr” says the melodramatic guy whose examples of "cold" and "hatred" are juvenile annoyance

Shampoo's abilities are plot devices more than anything else. If you take it seriously the speed with which Ranma defeats her is frankly disrespectful lol only the boys get Serious Fights. The tone with the female fighters is just different, no point in fixating on abilities or the like with them

(says something interesting about sexism in-world though. Cologne ya girl is getting washed, stand up! alas, she's only interested in future husband as she's ensured Shampoo's survival in her village. Could speculate the same happens to Akane, where she's trained just enough to be able to defend herself in her peaceful world, but then is left alone as the future of the dojo is expected to fall in the hands of a strong husband) (Mostly is the shonen of it all, as we're expected to believe none of the female martial artists have a sustained interest in improving/becoming stronger like the boys have. I suspend my belief here because there's still plenty to like about these characters, how the female fighters can be used, and because it's funny. What can I say. A bitch is being entertained)

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day six

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : angst, fluff

length : 4k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3 @kageyasma

a/n : hope you're prepared for a bit of angst, I hope I managed to do it justice because it's definitely the genre I'm least used to, but here we go! enjoy and leave a reblog or a comment and I'll love you forever 🥰💗

•••

day six

I barely slept. One reason was the lingering alcohol in my veins making me so dizzy that closing my eyes seemed like a punishment. The other was the fact that my brain was desperately trying to make sense of everything that had transpired that night. I knew, I was fully aware, that this had been what I’d been wanting in a way. But fantisising about these things and actually going through with them were two entirely different things.

I had kissed Noah. I had kissed Oli. They had kissed each other.

It sounded perfect on paper or in a romance novel that was guaranteed a happy ending, but the more the morning light emerged and hit me through the curtains I’d never closed, the more the reality of it weighed on me. Last night, we had crossed some lines that we’d only been eyeing before. Kissing Oli had felt more intimate than all the stuff we’d gotten up to before. As far as I knew, last night also marked the first time Oli and Noah had gotten that close.

How were we going to behave around each other now? We could go and blame it on the alcohol, but I didn’t think that anyone in this constellation could honestly say that it wouldn’t have happened anyway, at some point in time. The temptation had been lingering between us for days. Maybe longer in some cases.

I turned off the alarm on my phone as it blared through the silent room. It hurt my head. A noisy reminder that life had to go on. That I would have to face both of them, without any idea of how they would react. If they regretted it. If they would pull back now. If everything would change for the worse. Or the worst.

My tired body dragged itself through the motions. Shower. Getting dressed. Packing my stuff. No flattering outfit today, just a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie.

I didn’t meet anyone in the hallway or the lift or the lobby. A few people were already around in the car park, loading in everyone’s stuff, mingling about, smoking another cigarette. I pulled the hood up into my face. I’d avoided the mirror pretty successfully this morning, but I just knew I looked rough. Some people knew I’d been out with Lia last night and they would no doubt love to get some mocking remarks in about my perceived hangover. I didn’t have the nerves for it.

A glimpse of Noah.

My feet immediately stopped dead in their tracks. It shouldn’t have been so surprising, really. Of course, he would be around sooner or later.

He looked just as beat up as I felt. I wished I knew if it was because of the late night or if he’d stayed up wondering too. He looked at me for a second, face paler than I remembered, dark circles appearing under his eyes, and gave me a wave. No smile, no urge to move toward me, no words, just his hand in the air without much conviction.

I waved back, unsure of how to proceed, but someone patted Noah on the back to get his attention. Free from the burning stare, I got onto the bus. I was armed with a few personal things, when I climbed the stairs and made a beeline for my bunk. There was no noise around me. Either everyone was still getting ready or people were being extremely quiet.

The curtain on Oli’s bunk was drawn shut. I tried hard to remember if he’d left it like that the day before or if it was an indication that he was here already, but I came up short. It didn’t matter, in the end. I slipped into my own bunk and closed the curtain. 

Unless Oli decided to go the route of “pretending nothing at all happened”, he probably wouldn’t talk to me anyway. I’d known him long enough. He was the type to battle things on his own for as long as the world allowed him to, before he would talk to anyone or ask for help. I felt like the three of us had that in common. It wasn’t the greatest mix of people when it came to bumps in the road.

I pushed the thoughts away, just like I ignored the slight lump in my throat that I refused to let grow. Picking up my phone from where it had burrowed in my bunk, I took the plunge to check my regular mails again, something I’d been avoiding since getting on this tour. It held the usual disappointments.

A rejection from a job I’d applied for that would have started right after tour.

A mail from my father which got deleted unseen.

Another rejection.

Spam.

An old employer saying they didn’t have any capacities for me any time soon.

More spam.

A mail from my roommate.

The last one took me by surprise, but the content cleared it up immediately. “Got a new phone, lost your number but found your e-mail address on some junk paper in the kitchen. Call me when you can.” With a groan, I put my phone away again. I didn’t know what this was about, but it couldn’t be good. We both weren’t terribly keen on each other, but it was the only place in London I could find that only had one other person living there instead of four, so it seemed like a good deal. I made a mental note to call her later, without much motivation.

Turning on my side, I snuggled into the relatively comfortable bunk. Exhaustion draped itself over me like a heavy blanket. I fell asleep, the hours awake finally catching up with me, and was granted a dreamless few hours.

•••

When I woke up, the curtain to my bunk was disturbed, not closed all the way anymore and I wondered if I’d moved it in my sleep or if someone had come to check up on me. If it was the latter, it was probably someone trying to figure out if I was actually on the bus or if they’d left me in Manchester by mistake. I thought that wouldn’t be all too bad. However, we had arrived in Glasgow, apparently, and there was work to do. With a heavy sigh, I heaved myself out of my quarters. Time to check in to the hotel, check on Oli, get to the venue, soundcheck, the usual.

I found Oli in the hotel lobby, getting his room key. I quickly waved down another receptionist to get my own, only half-heartedly listening to their introduction to the hotel and then legged it after him, only just managing to make it into the lift before the doors closed. I wasn’t going to take silent treatment for an answer. I’d accepted that kind of behaviour more often than I’d like to admit in my life, I wasn’t going to go down that road with Oli.

The doors closed behind me, leaving the two of us in silence. I mustered him, trying to figure out where we were at, where his mind was, how to approach whatever had shifted between us. He didn’t look overly stressed. Or like he hadn’t slept. But I knew he also had a talent to hide it well. My brain was fumbling over what words to choose when he finally looked at me.

Then, without warning or giving me time to prepare, Oli was on me, kissing me hard and fast, and I couldn’t do anything but wrap my arms around him and reciprocate. I helplessly moaned into his mouth, completely at his mercy, and then the lift dinged and both of us flew apart just as the doors opened to our floor.

I stepped out of the lift ahead of him, momentarily confused as to where to go, the sudden kiss having erased all memories of my room number, but Oli passed me by easily, walking into whatever direction I figured was probably the correct one for me too.

“Oli!” I called after him, but he didn’t stop until he was at the door. I watched as he unlocked it and shoved his suitcase in so it would stay open. “Aren’t we going to talk?”

“What about?” I could practically see the shield he had put up. It was a sight that hadn’t greeted me in years, taking me aback and confusing me. Him being distant, hiding away, not letting me in, not letting me see the real him felt like a punishment. But it was exactly what he was doing, hanging about in the middle of the doorframe, an arrogant look on his face that I knew was nothing but a mask. I hated this side of him as much as it worried me.

“Last night? Starting with the fact that we kissed?”

He cocked his eyebrow at me with a smirk, but it wasn’t honest and it wasn’t reassuring. It was annoying. “Yeah, and? We just did again. Ain’t that what we’d been working towards? Having a little snog? Well, there you go.”

I swallowed my anger at the way he was presenting things, twisting what was happening, downplaying it. It took a deep breath to convince me to stay calm. He was doing this to keep himself from being vulnerable, not to be an arsehole, I tried to remind myself. Unfortuantely, it didn’t help that he sounded and looked every bit like a cunt in that moment.

“What about Noah then? Also just a game to you?”

There was a flicker of something on his face, something that was threatening to break through his facade, but he quickly regained his composure.

“What if it is?”

I didn’t have an answer to that, stunned by the audacity. Both of us knew that he was lying, but he was clinging to his version of things so adamantly it made me want to punch his face. I couldn’t tell where I found the strength to keep myself from doing it. Probably the idea of what this whole mess could do to Noah.

I needed to talk to Noah.

“Right, that it?” Oli asked, apparently bored out of his mind. “If you want a quick fuck, you’re welcome to come in. If not, I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

The door fell into the lock before I could respond. Fucking prick. I thought he had learned, in the past years, I really did, but this just proved that he was a stubborn as ever. With a noise of frustration, I harshly stamped my foot into the carpet underneath, just to rid myself of some of the tension. It didn’t work.

•••

Neither Oli nor Noah were anywhere to be found when I got to the venue. My messages to both of them had somehow gone unread, which frustrated me even more. One of them was supposed to be my boss which made my work impossible. The other didn’t seem like the type to not check his phone which was equal parts weird. It wasn’t until someone tipped me off that at least Noah had been seen getting back to his dressing room that I finally had some success.

Well. Technically, I had twice the success because Oli was leaving the room right as I reached it. I was about to ask him what was going on, why wasn’t he answering my mails, did he really have no need for me today, but he simply nodded in recognition and sauntered past me. One problem after the other, I told myself, knocking and letting myself into Noah’s dressing room.

Noah was sitting on the sofa, cross-legged, looking up at me with wide eyes. I let myself fall onto the cushions next to him, utterly exhausted by the day and it wasn’t even showtime. Without a word, Noah put his arm around me, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. The comfort spread through me like a hot cup of tea.

“Are you okay?” I asked simply because I was afraid he would ask me first. “What did Oli want?”

“Just checking if we were okay, I guess,” Noah sighed. I internally scoffed at the fact that he had bothered with Noah but not with me, but I pushed the thought away. “Wanting to make sure I still wanted to Antivist tonight.” He paused for a moment. “Do you know when someone is talking and talking but they’re not actually saying anything? Oli is an expert at that, isn’t he. I have no idea what he thinks about last night. I can’t even pinpoint if I asked.”

“Oli can be all smoke and mirrors and leave you more confused than before you talked to him,” I agreed. “How do you feel about last night?”

I didn’t lift my head. I gave both of us the chance to speak as freely as possible without having to look at each other. The same way the darkness gave you the freedom to reveal your secrets at night when you’re a kid, before you came to regret your honesty the next morning.

Noah’s answer began with a big sigh. “I liked kissing him,” he admitted. “I liked kissing you, too. I liked watching him kiss you. But I’m not…” I allowed him as much time as he needed to find his words. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to get involved… with anyone. I can’t give anyone what they need. I’m away and I don’t talk about my feelings and I’m a terrible partner and-”

I couldn’t help myself as I interrupted his speech, sitting upright and taking his face in my hands to force him to look at me. Even self-doubt looked handsome on him.

“You’re talking about your feelings right now, Noah, and you’re doing just fine.”

His head dropped low, now finding my shoulder as I awkwardly hugged him. The scent of his hair was in my nose and I had to actively stop myself from inhaling loudly. He smelled like comfort, I decided. Noah looked back up as I raked my fingers through his hair.

“What do you want to do now?” I asked, carefully.

“I just know I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

It was all I needed, right then and there. I kissed him with all the intensity, all the desperation, all the need inside of me, all the frustration about Oli, all the feelings I had for him but couldn’t or wouldn’t yet name. His mouth was starting to feel familiar against mine, familiar but never boring in the way it moved, the way he tasted. He held me close, pressing our chests together, my breasts heavy between us, his hands all over me in sweet gestures that still had me burning for more.

Both of us were breathless when we separated, but I couldn’t help peppering a few more kisses to his lips, short and soft but saying it all, until it came to a natural end. The smile on his face, directed solely at me, his brown eyes, so enticing, smiling along, was more than enough.

I didn’t want to stop kissing him either.

•••

Oli kept himself much less approachable. He finally read my message but left me without a reply. I managed to run into him several times before his band’s set, but he more or less sent me away every time, claiming not to need anything at all. Just relax and sit down somewhere, he had told me with a dismissive wave of his hand. He was stubborn, but so was I. The last hour before his stage time, I simply followed him around the arena like a lost puppy, just in case he found a use for me. He didn’t. But I felt stupidly pleased that I didn’t let him get away with whatever game he was trying to play.

Still, I was annoyed and felt the rage simmering inside of me. Oli managed to put on a good show, but I felt like his mind wasn’t quite in the right place. Mine wasn’t either. I quickly spoke to Bring Me’s tour manager when I caught him at the side of the stage, purely to let someone know, before going the long way round and finding myself on the arena floor among the fans. I had been a fan myself, long before I’d been working on tours, and that hadn’t changed, no matter how many I went on. I knew that being in a crowd, surrounding by people, screaming the lyrics and moving to the music, would help me clear my head like nothing else could. Besides, it felt about time I got to witness their show from the perspective of the audience, the very people everything from the setlist to the production to the sound design had been specifically made for.

I squeezed myself into the middle of the crowd, made easier by the amount of movement around me, and took a deep breath that was unfortunately filled with the sweat of people who never learned to use deodorant. It made me move a little further, just until the air was slightly more breathable. And then it felt like home.

I wasn’t Aubrey, personal assistant to Oli anymore and he wasn’t Oli, decade-long friend that turned into the most stubborn person on the planet when faced with his vulnerability anymore. I was nothing more than a fan enjoying the music of one of her favourite bands and getting positively lost in the experience. So I went crazy for Diamonds Aren’t Forever and Parasite Eve, kept my eyes on the screens for Antivist just to catch a glimpse of Noah, getting closer to the front of the stage through a number of moshpits, fought hard not to get emotional for Drown.

The fact that Can You Feel My Heart followed didn’t help. The words travelled through my body, taking hold of me, and I was sure I’d never quite felt them the way I did right then and there. And then…

And then Oli didn’t do the speech. His cheesy ass speech he did in the middle of the song, that he constantly joked about backstage but that I knew was so important to him. And he didn’t do it. Could he not bring himself to say the words? Was he too scared to be vulnerable tonight? Could he not bear the thought of baring his soul like that? Had I made it worse?

I hate to get close, and I hate being alone, I long for that feeling to not feel at all…

The world seemed to close in on me. Oli was being a dickhead, yes, but had I pushed him too far? Had I played his stupid game without taking into account that I knew how much he struggled with allowing that type of intimacy? I had been so preoccupied with my own need for him that I didn’t stop to think if I should check up on him instead of teasing him further and further, allowing him to escalate our friendship into something that could be beyond repair. My head was spinning so hard it made me feel dizzy.

I didn’t notice the moshpit opening up around me until someone crashed into my body, sending me flying to the floor. Someone’s hands were on me, possibly multiple, getting me back on my feet, checking on me. I felt something wet on my face but didn’t think to check, people were shouting at each other over the music, coming to an agreement that someone should get up and crowdsurf to the front where they would get help quicker. Me. They were talking about me. Something dripped onto my eyelid and I wiped it away in annoyance as I got lifted up. Blood? The crowd carried me easily. The song was almost over when a security guard caught me and I briefly looked up to see Oli staring down at me, worried. I wasn’t sure why.

Next thing I knew, I was backstage again, a medic shining a light in my eyes which was awfully annoying, Oli and Noah crouching next to me, being asked questions that were easily answered.

“She’s okay, she probably got a slight concussion, but that will be fine by tomorrow. The cut on her eyebrow is minimal and doesn’t need stitches, it just looks bad because it bled, but that’s stopped which means it’s not too deep. Just make sure it’s kept clean and it should heal just fine.”

“You okay?” Oli asked, carefully grazing his fingertips over my cheek. Awfully soft, really. “I need to get back on stage, but Noah will take you to the dressing room and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’m fine,” I hissed, still high on adrenaline but slowly catching up with what was happening around me. “You don’t need to suddenly care again just because I got injured.”

I could see that my words had hurt him but I didn’t care. Even if my heart pounded heavily. I allowed Noah to help me up and lead me to Oli’s dressing room where he sat me down on the sofa and inspected my wound.

“Do I look sexy all bloody?”

The laugh erupted from his throat out of nowhere. “The medic cleaned you up, but sure, very sexy.”

Silence settled over us as I leaned against his side. The exhaustion of the whole day was washing over me and I was suddenly glad for a little peace and quiet. Neither of us spoke again, simply enjoying the physical contact, until it got louder again from outside the door and we knew the concert had ended.

“Done with your ego trip, then?” I asked as Oli entered the room. He had the decency to look ashamed which I thought was a step forward.

“Never,” he mumbled, but there was no malice in his voice. I raised my eyebrow at him, which shot a dose of pain through my head. My wince softened him immediately. Idiot. “I’m sorry you got hurt. That shouldn’t have happened.”

I genuinely couldn’t tell if he was talking about my mosh pit incident or…

“I guess some people just need to be a little more careful with those around them. Just because they didn’t mean to doesn’t mean other people don’t end up with a headache.”

“You know, some people try very hard, but they’re also very slow learners.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor here that’s flying right over my head,” Noah interrupted and I couldn’t help but laugh, pressing a short kiss to his temple. Poor Noah, having no idea what he was getting dragged into with Oli and me, but taking it in his stride that neither of us was willing to let him go unless he genuinely asked for it.

I reached my hand out to Oli, deciding to be the bigger person despite knowing that it wasn’t on me to make that first step, but I was impatient and Oli would take forever to be brave enough to come crawling back. “I’m not saying this is over or that we don’t have things to talk about, but as long as you stop pretending to be this cruel and heartless version of you, you’re allowed back into the cuddle pile.”

Oli didn’t take my hand immediately, but looked at Noah, as if checking in with him if he was of the same opinion. I decided to give him credit for it. Noah nodded and in an instant, Oli had draped himself over both our laps, hot to the touch and rather sweaty. The tension between the three of us hadn’t vanished, but it had lessened. Questions remained unanswered and discussions were still to be had but maybe Oli wasn’t the only one reluctant to dive into the deep end.

He mouthed sorry, Aubrey at me and I hated the way my heart melted and my resolve slipped. Then Noah softly stroked his hair and I was sure that some other hearts in this room were melting just the same. I couldn’t help it. I was in love with the mess we were creating.

[the-dawn-star]

hi, can I please request a romantic headcanon for yandere Elijah Mikaelson? Thanks.

A/N: Hi! You asked for some hcs and I am here to deliver them.

-S

+400ish words

TWs/CWs: obsession, drinking blood, yandere stuff and again some yandere stuff that are not okay!

Elijah didn’t mean to become obsessed with you. He just wanted to love you and be loved back.  

But you were so perfect... Some would say it's too perfect for this world.  

You had dated for a couple of months when you started to see the obsessive side of Elijah. At first you didn’t want to point that out to him, I mean he was a perfect boyfriend, so you could live with a bit of protectiveness.  

The thing with Elijah is that he isn’t going to limit your movement as much as you might think. Actually, he loves to show off his lover but draws the line if someone who isn’t super close to you takes any contact to you.  

Elijah understands that you would be distraught if you were taken from your life, even if it was done by your boyfriend. And Elijah knows you would never be able to love him the same.  

But with all that I have stated, Elijah can be quite brutal at times. It starts as an accident, when he drinks from you and doesn’t stop before you are passed out in his arms. (He says that he meant to stop himself, but you both know it’s a lie.) Afterwards you will get a nice bath and an iron tablet.  

Elijah loves to mark you. Vampire or love bites, it doesn’t matter. Bruises from more intense nights (wink wink). It makes him swell with pride with the idea that everyone knows that you are his, and only his.  

Elijah can be really emotionally distant at times too. Most of the times when you are feeling emotionally unwell. He won’t belittle your feelings, but he just doesn’t know how to react in those moments.  

One day he would love to turn you into a vampire. The only problem is that then you would be closer to be his equal in power. But of course, he doesn’t want you to die, which makes him feel like turning you might be the better option in the long run.  

To Elijah it’s not going to matter if you want to turn or not. He is so much older than you after all so you should assume that he knows better.  

You are his and his only. You are too precious for this world, so why don’t you let him take care of you.  

[ben-drowned-me]

hi! could you write some general hc for Jeff and Toby? Also could you talk about more about your canon plsss?

✧.* gen jeff and toby headcanons

-aaa of course !! i love jeff and toby so much

for my canon, I like to think that i just kind of make the characters more real. For most of their original canon stories, or for the fanon versions of them, their characters are made to be just killing machines with a little bit of angst and the story of whatever caused it. I base them off my favourite versions of their stories (or combine), but i give them flaws and little quirks that make them into an actual character rather than a person. I also try to write in how they are all traumatized people because thats usually brushed off. I wouldn't mind going into more detail if you'd like :3

jeff the killer

 incredibly close with liu before everything went down, now he just feels guilty being around him

hardcore metal and punk fan. Screeching Weasel, Benighted, To The Grave. stuff like that

Has night terrors. Rooms with Ben because he's the only one who can calm him down when he awakes. 

Soft spot for animals (usually prefers cats but doesn't say anything to Smile)

Grew up in a very strict catholic family

Is the self-proclaimed "white boy" of the mansion but is hispanic

Pushes his emotions away until something really triggers him

When he finally gets triggered, it does not end well

Full breakdowns. Rage, Depression. He goes through all of it in the span of like 2 days. 

Everyone gives him space except Ben

No mirrors in his room. Avoids ones outside

phantom pain from the burns 

he looks absolutely atrocious. Probably the worst of all the creeps but to be fair he went through severe body trauma

For a grown man, he's on the skinner side 

still really fucking strong though

Can't sleep without noise. One of the reasons he rooms with Ben so much bc hes loud

Messy room. Does not clean, does not know where anything is

only really uses the top of his face to show emotion because he's scared of re-opening his mouth scars

He would spend hundreds of dollars at bath and body works but all the scents he picks up would clash so badly

the kind of guy to say no when someone asks for something but then get 3 of it

listens to british rap unironically

toby rogers

mentioned before, but hates waffles. Any classic breakfast food he dislikes but those are the worst

a collector. His room is filled with small little trinkets he's picked up. Has a rock or button collection

Probably the worst of the creeps emotionally

Was raised in a pretty toxic environment.. Never learned how to manage his emotions. Has too many of them and they change too often so he kind of just. explodes

Usually extreme rage or goes nonverbal

is autistic idc

very ! bad ! ptsd

nervous around male authoritative figures

initially refused to eat at the dinner table since it was a requirement of his fathers, but is getting better at it

soft spot for kids, will let sally dress him up and do his makeup

religious guilt though he was never religious

finds EJ to be very good company, he enjoys the atmosphere

speaking of EJ, he taught Toby a lot of medical care since he's not always available

sleeps on the floor pretty often

kind of an asshole sometimes

master of sarcasm tbh

[peachfruitcake]

did you hear about what Martin said about Susan and Linda on the Twitter space he hosted on the 27th? i thought of you instantly when he started talking about them and have been waiting for you to post your thoughts! :-)

HEHE YES IM THE ONE WHO’S QUESTION LED TO THAT!!!!!

Now for those who didn’t listen to that space, Martin said that Linda called her to say goodbye but never specified how it went of course. Besides “hey Susan I’m leaving sorry this is really impacting my mental health” “gaaaaaaaaaaey”/j

This is all a personal headcanon but I like to think that their friendship grew incredibly distant ever since Linda married Felix, Susan probably stopped talking to her altogether for a while and it would leave Linda very confused and upset. They might’ve started talking to eachother again a little bit as the series of events began to approach but only very brief small talk, maybe Linda complaining a little and giving Susan a few life updates and them both talking about stuff they’ve been noticing with others lately (especially Felix’s drinking), but nothing deeper than that.

I see Susan being extremely emotionally closed off to most people except maybe a select few that she knows very closely, so if you were to ask her what’s going on in her life she’d give you a very vaguely watered down version and not what’s actually going on or how she’s really managing herself emotionally.

So basically she used to be more open with Linda, but during that period she sort of just started treating her like a stranger.

So when Linda called her first to tell her that she’s finally leaving, Susan acted how she usually would, keeping it calm, understanding and respectful and wishing her luck, but she won’t really show any more than that. Or that she cried later and felt pretty bad that they couldn’t be so close anymore and that she’ll probably never be able to make up for herself acting so distant for the past many years again.

Of course this all comes from how I view Susan as a character myself though and also the fact that I refuse to pass up the idea that she has feelings for Linda. I like to think that she introduced her to Felix cuz Linda was getting more desperate to find a relationship and Susan was getting weird thoughts so in a panic she shoved her off to him so she could avoid the urges. They’ve been boiling within her since highschool and she always was able to push them aside or excuse them as “she’s just my very close friend I don’t have many close friends so she feels extra special” and as the years went by they began distracting her a lot from her work and were growing stronger and more unavoidable aaand they were really beginning to affect how she’d interact with Linda and you see Susan hates feeling like another has any control over her and Linda just wouldn’t shut up about hooooow badly she wants a relationship and hoooow many dates keep failing and Susan was at the point to where she was starting to get the kind of dreams that make you stare up at the ceiling in horror when you open your eyes in the morning so one day when she overheard Felix speaking about being single and wanting to start looking around, she decided to introduce her to him. Susan allegedly never finds a problem she can’t fix in some way so that was her solution.

They hit it off, Susan’s solution isn’t working for some reason cuz she doesn’t feel any relief at all and in fact feels worse but just sucks it up and just focuses on her work and looks the other way. Linda and Felix get married, Susan feels like throwing up the entire day and now feels somehow even more worse by now and suddenly whenever Linda wants to chat she’s suddenly always “busy” every time. Susan’s often busy anyways but you know yourself when there’s a difference between “shit I’m busy that day, let’s do Sunday instead” and “Sorry I can’t, I’m busy”, “I don’t know when I’ll be available.”

While Linda and Felix were dating, Susan probably assumed that she was just jealous that she couldn’t have a little fun at her age herself. When they got married, Susan told herself that she’s probably so depressed over it cuz it’s making her feel like she’s fallen behind others her age and that maybe she feels bitter that all of these people are moving on and going through these important life stages while she remains behind. Which made no sense otherwise cuz Susan couldn’t give any less of a fuck about starting any sort of family or going out. But that’s what Susan would tell herself that she feels so she wouldn’t have to think about it any further. By the time Susan thinks she’s over whatever it was, she begins having brief talks with Linda occasionally. Not often and still a bit distant, but way better than before.

So yeah can you imagine how shitty and guilty Susan felt that whole time of her weird bitterness toward Linda being in a relationship and not being able to approach her much anymore or how Felix turned out to be such a shitty husband.

If this headcanon is aligned with twf’s canon, she’d probably be dead before she even gets to actually acknowledge and accept her feelings as they are. Such is life though. Not like she could’ve done anything about it.

[greengirllover]

Ok I want a mental illness lore, trauma lore if ur comfortable with and a whole chart of your exes.

BUCKLE UP EVERYONE

ok so i was diagnosed with insomnia, OCD and anxiety pretty young, at the age of 11 i would wake up at 3 am every morning and watch the news and have a few cups of coffee while shaking about hearing about violent crimes and laws being passed on the news, almost nothing i said when i was younger made any sense, i would talk in riddles i would say things like “the grass was gray and the streetlights were bright but it was dark and the wind” so then they started testing me for a bunch of stuff and the results were always inconclusive, i was then diagnosed later with depression and anorexia, i started drinking and smoking at 12 and i’ve been at it since

now for my ex’s 🤗

i’ve only actually dated two people bc i’m not a fan of relationships, i talked to this one guy in middle school, he came over and i wouldn’t fuck him so he ran outside in the middle of winter and walked around my neighborhood until he could get picked up, i talked to this other guy in freshman year and he tried to get me drunk so i would send him nudes and he called me mommy all the time and i’d just stand there like 🧍🏻‍♀️, after this most of the people i dated were drug dealers, the one who used to wake me up when i would pass out was a dealer, he would bring me to random peoples apartments, places under bridges and his dealers, he brought me to see someone’s kittens once but the people pulled out a katana on us and then their landlord chased us all out of the house, then his friend tried to fuck me, asked me to do his drug test for him so he didn’t go to jail but they randomly tested him and he got sent away, this one i almost forgot about bc he wasn’t a boyfriend he was a stalker, he would give me comics and stick love letters in them going in detail specifically about my eyes and hair, he said he wanted to peel my flesh off and eat it and he had a hair kink and would ask girls to send him videos of them shampooing their hair, also he brought a knife to school after he said he wanted to eat my flesh, then there is my ex girlfriend i actually dated her and she used to put me down constantly and used to bite me so hard that i’d scream in pain and beg her to stop and i would have bruises all over me but i’m not gonna lie she was really hot but crazy in an abusive way so ew, then we have the only man i’ve ever come close to loving, i met him freshman year, we had mutual friends, we were so close that if someone was trying to find me they would go to him and vise versa, he had the most beautiful smile i’ve ever seen and he was probably the funniest person i’ve ever met, we used to go on walks together all the time and i would normally end up almost passing out because i wasn’t eating at the time, he used to buy me apple juice and sit with me while i waited until i was okay enough to keep walking, but i was very sick then so i didn’t treat him very well (emotionally) i also thought i was a lesbian and i was scared that if we started dating and then i found out that i was a lesbian i would really hurt him and i was also terrified of any man touching me and he knew that, i ended things with him and it really fucked him up since we had been friends for so long and i was dismissive of his feelings for me, i found out later that he would talk about me all the time and he told his friends that he was happy just being near me and that he would be okay never even touching me, so then when i started eating again and was thinking more clearly i realized that he was everything to me but he said he would only date girls that were the opposite of me so he could never be hurt like that again and now he has a girlfriend who screams at him all the time and i still miss him that’s about it i have a few more but they were relatively uneventful

now my trauma lore 🙌🏻🙌🏻

so i’ll just go over a few things, there’s a long line of sexual abuse in my family and because of that most of the people in my family are practically dead because they are so disassociated from reality, i was assaulted by this one guy in his car and got blamed for it and was made to apologize to the people who forced me into that situation for “blaming them” and after i was assaulted the people i was with wouldn’t take me home and they instead brought me to another guys house and left me alone in his basement with him at midnight, it was my first time meeting him and he put his hands on me too, i got stalked a few times, once by a guy from school the guy i mentioned before and another time by this car of guys that would follow me every time i would go on a walk because they memorized my schedule, also my dad used to cry while holding me while i slept and thought i never knew, also i was left alone a lot all my life so most of my life was spent having to eat cold food (i didn’t know how to cook) and having to take care of my sister who is the same age as me

ok that’s about it if u read this whole thing i love you

[lover-of-mine]

anna now i'm having the awful thought of. their relationship is going to be a mess..... in a not fun way..... neither of them understand the concept of consent when it comes to themselves so really how the fuck are the two of them supposed to have a healthy sexual relationship......

Lex, baby, I'm right there with you. They have a very intense relationship emotionally already and I think when it turns sexual it would also get very intense, but both of them have a bad relationship with sex and will probably have next to none experience with men, assuming Tommy will be the only guy for Buck and and the very real chance that Buck will be the only guy Eddie will be with, you can have them be a dumpster fire sexually. Because Eddie knows Buck is a very sexual person, so there's that pressure, and Buck would never pressure Eddie but Eddie would pressure himself, and do we trust them to sit down and talk? Be like "hey this is a new layer, how are we navigating it?" Because I think they would go from zero to all the way very quickly, maybe not all the way but from just kissing to some sort of sexual thing happening quite fast, but once the intensity of a first time wears off, where are we putting them? And if that first time doesn't happen quickly, can we trust Eddie to bring whatever he's feeling about sex to the table? Can we trust Buck not to spiral if they're not having sex? I know that if either one of them were like "I don't wanna do it right now" the other would absolutely be like "great let's cuddle" and it would not be a problem, but can we trust Eddie to say no if he's not feeling it and can we trust Buck to not equate his value in the relationship with sex and therefore not freak out if Eddie sex drive is lower than his? Also does Buck know he can say no to Eddie and that wouldn't make him love him any less if he's not feeling it? Because I can see Buck freaking out at the idea of fucking up his relationship with Eddie with sex and being scared to do it, but can they navigate the emotional layer that's gonna be attached to sex with it comes to them? Can we really trust them to not let sex become a problem? Do they even know sex is supposed to be fun and it can be a great way to feel close to your partner and it's not just something you do with your body? Can we even trust the show to acknowledge they are creating problems that would have to be addressed? This is stuff I never thought to think about because them actually getting together was a distant dream but now it's a real possibility and I'm sitting here like "how would the switch from platonic to romantic to sexual actually look like with them?" and standing in the corner all 🧍🧍because i don't know

[sharpth1ng]

What do you think is mentally wrong with billy and stu other then being “insane”

I don't actually think they're insane, tbh. I'm going to give a long explanation of this but I just want to say I'm not judging you or the question. Terms like this get miss-used a lot in pop media (including in Scream) so it's easy to get the wrong idea.

"Insane" is a legal category, not a medical diagnosis. Legally, insanity refers to someone being in a state where they are so out of touch with reality that they can't be considered responsible for their actions. The way this works is complicated, but simply put if the crime was violent then it needs to be proven that the accused person didn't actually know what they were doing.

Successful insanity pleas are very very rare, both because the burden of proof is super high and because people with disorders that involve a break from reality don't commit violent crime that often at all. It's actually pretty rare.

So yeah, by that definition these two are not insane at all. They know exactly what they are doing and they intend to do it. They call themselves "psychotic" but that's also a miss-use of the term. They very clearly don't have psychosis, and aside from that people with psychosis are less likely to act violently than people who don't have it (this is a statistical fact).

On that note I just want to point out that the way media connects violence with psychotic disorders is a real problem. It stigmatizes and isolates the real people who struggle with this stuff. It causes others to judge and fear them, it makes them fear themselves, and it makes it harder for them to access treatment and care. So yeah the psychotic line in Scream is a real pet-peeve of mine, that's why I changed it in my writing.

Getting back to Billy and Stu I really don't think their issues and behaviours can be boiled down to any mental health issues. To be clear I don't think anyones bad behaviour can be boiled down to mental health issues. In some cases mental health issues can help us understand where behaviour is coming from, but they're never the only cause. So I'll talk about the way I write them in terms of the issues they deal with, but just keep in mind that these things not the cause of their actions.

I write Billy autistic partly because I am (but also because of the canonical horror movie special interest and third act meltdown) and I'd say my portrayal of Stu also indicates some type of neurodivergence- probably something like ADHD but I don't have any specific diagnosis in mind. Billy also has some attachment and trust issues- these aren't diagnosis or disorders but they are definitely things he struggles with. For his part Stu is dealing with parental neglect and struggles with loneliness as well as under-stimulation.

All of this stuff informs the way they behave with each other, the walls they put up, and the types of relationships they have with other people. For example Billy isn't emotionally open to Sidney at any point. Even if he wasn't gay there was never a possibility for their relationship to work out because he's completely closed off to her. He doesn't trust her.

In terms of what I think is truly wrong with these two it's the misogyny, the slut shaming and the self-centeredness. That's the kind of stuff that I think explains their behaviour for real, and none of it is related to their mental health issues or insecurities.

Stu is a rich white boy living in suburban California and the way I write him, so is Billy. They have shitty values and the kind of privileged upbringing that teaches men to see themselves as the main character. Billy literally has one of those scary tiktok boy moms, like when we see Nancy in Scream 2 she fully excuses all of his behaviour. He's been brought up not having to take accountability or consider the real effects of his actions. Neither of them have.

So yeah tldr: They aren't insane, they do have some legit mental health issues the way I write them, but none of that stuff causes their actions in the movie. Their actions are caused by a toxic combination of sexism and main character syndrome, which are not mental health issues.

I hope all that makes sense!

[neonscandal]

What are your bakudeku fav moments? And what are your fav personal headcanons about them?

Okie, so I may have done a few head canons like this (and forgot to link the last five in the SatoSugu ask just like this... also the alternating colors was admittedly gratuitous but I'm not changing it now. Just know that I have regrets.). Maybe even drafted some moments like this but let's light this BBQ anyway. 💥

Horikoshi truly doesn't get enough credit for how perfect this panel and subsequent animation was. It's actually hysterical? Earnest Deku and Little Shit Kacchan. It's so them, I can't even.

HEAD CANONS

The Bakugo's are the Have's and the Midoriya's are the Have Not's but Mitsuki and Inko are so close that the boys never really knew the difference. Mitsuki helps Inko out where she can which is why Deku is a staple in their house growing up (free childcare for Inko and necessary socialization for her brat, Katsuki). You should see their childhood photo albums, they are both equally as embedded in one anothers' family histories.

When the boys first came to understand their economic differences, it was because of the disparity between their All Might merch collections and Bakugo realized it long before Midoriya. Subsequently, he staved off this epiphany by making it a point to always ask for "one for Izuku" until they fell out which Mitsuki obliged generously and proudly, knowing their relationship was precious but also a good influence on her gremlin.

I say they fell out but.. they didn't. Not in the ways that mattered. Bakugo is as big a nerd as Midoriya, he just has the sense to be more lowkey about it. Even when Bakugo was being a bully, he'd begrudgingly ask Midoriya (if Midoriya didn't ask first) to any midnight releases of All Might/hero movies and merch drops. They absolutely are the kind of dorks to camp out for limited release stuff. It's a lifelong tradition. Even if things went back to normal at school the next day, they still had that in common and both knew not to bring it up otherwise to maintain the balance of their twisted relationship otherwise. It's why, even after all this time, they're still so in sync. Also, by that point, the "one for Izuku" custom is so deeply ingrained that Mitsuki does it anyway. The turnover between Bakugo to Midoriya is so begrudging and awkward. All unspoken but a deeply rooted fact of their relationship.

Bakugo absolutely got them lost in the forest once. I think he took that fear and pivoted it into a refusal to ever be scared in nature again which is why he persistently enjoys the outdoors so much. It feels like revenge every time he comes back from a hike.

They made a blood oath to never tell anyone about how Mitsuki used them as drop in models for the Bakugo child clothing line because there was at least one season where they both modeled girls' clothes (Midoriya doesn't really care but Bakugo does). It's not that Bakugo cares or takes issue with a persons' gender, orientation or expression. He knows clothes don't define a person, he's confident and masculine either way and he knows he'd be the best looking person in a dress. He does, however, take issue with the fact that the hag likes to coo and lord the pictures over him because he was incredibly and disarmingly cute (which he acknowledges as "damn right" but despises the principle of the matter wherein his mom has anything over him).

Class 1A all notice the weird tension between the fire kid and the brittle boned dude who looks like he's never slept but just... awkwardly avoid it because they're just as emotionally underdeveloped as these two idiots. I also kinda think the confrontation between the two isn't always as bad as Midoriya's narration suggests because, I would hope in a class of hero students, someone would have intervened? But everyone picked up, day one, that they're just little weirdos and let them do their own thing.

In fact, no one finds Bakugo as intimidating as Midoriya does. Literally, no one. He's loud but compliant with a self-imposed bed time. His words are violent but his hands are skilled and intentional, never reflecting the carnage he threatens. Plus, he's a big ole dork! They know he's all bark and that's why people don't react to his rampaging (based in canon if you look at the provisional license exam, culture festival, Christmas, and Deku's secret training with Tsu, Ochaco and Sero). He used to be really bothered by Class 1A's lack of reaction to his yelling. They just kinda manhandle him to put him in his place and keep it pushing (again, see also Christmas episode and culture festival arcs). But now he accepts it as they accept him and he doesn't feel the need to be so abrasive and put up as many walls.

Midoriya, of course, notices this transition. Hyper fixated on it in fact. While he's super happy that Kacchan is settling in and finding his peace, he resents (but only a teeeeny tiny little bit) Kirishima in particular thinking this change is because of their friendship which he covets. He doesn't comprehend his own impact on or inspiration for this change, however. He never gives himself enough credit.

When Midoriya went all Dark Deku, Bakugo spent exactly one day a la Bella in Twilight sitting forlorn and waiting in the dark for the idiot to return. After the first 24, he pulled his Hermione pants on and got to work on the plan of recapturing the nerd by any means necessary.

Without spoilers, Bakugo's prized possession is the All Might card they both have because AM remains to be the pinnacle for everything Bakugo hopes to accomplish. But Midoriya's prized possession and the thing he hid before everyone did room tours at Heights Alliance is a picture of him and Bakugo. No fanfare, no merch, just a picture of the two of them with a smile that goes cheek to cheek. It's what gives him strength and resolve to keep moving forward. Aoyama's totally seen it.

Midoriya knows why Bakugo goes to bed at 8:30PM. Yes, he's a sleepy little guy. But also yes, this is his private time to read his shojo romance mangas in peace. ✨ Midoriya stays abreast of his favorite stories waiting for an inevitable "!!!" text when something big happens because Bakugo can't download his... excitement? confusion? joy? with anyone else. (Technically, Kirishima is also aware of this habit, quite by accident, but Bakugo would never tell Midoriya that).

Doesn't seem like it but Bakugo totally spoils Midoriya. It's masked in the harsh way he tends to package everything but he makes it a point to always cook for him, he's really weirdly thoughtful about gifts (no special occasion required but he'll shove it in the nerd's chest), he nags to make sure Midoriya is taking care of himself, etc. When Midoriya falls asleep in random places, Bakugo is the one who covers him with a blanket, quiets the surrounding extras down and leaves him with an excruciatingly gentle thumb across his freckles.

Bakugo pays rapt attention to Midoriya's muttering. Generally, he's interested in the subject matter because he's also an overly analytical fanboy. But also, his attention will sometimes drift from appreciating Midoriya's face and fall to his lips. This is when he gets flustered and "loses his temper". Really, he's worried he got caught lacking and is pissed at himself. It'll happen again and again.

MOMENTS

Much longer series thats focused basically on their relationship so these aren't really moment moments but rather... pieces of the story.

Better in the manga, but Midoriya running into the slime villain fray was just... so momentous. Even before knowing it's impact, it was it was just so chest fluttering. Through and through, that kid has always been a hero. Quirk or not.

In retrospect, everything about the sports festival makes me want to swallow a throw pillow. From Bakugo starting to warm up to people, Bakugo being an eavesdropping little shit, Midoriya (and Aizawa) explaining Kacchan to onlookers, Bakugo unwilling to accept victory. So much of their individual personalities are laid bare but still, that unavoidable link to one another.

I hated the exam against All Might, too much tension/confrontation. But I loved when Bakugo took a hit meant for Midoriya and Midoriya subsequently powered up to sideline All Might AND recapture Bakugo's unconscious body. So on brand for them.

Midoriya still having a psychic connection with Bakugo's enigmatic ass in Kamino by sending Kirishima in for the rescue. I know that burned him up but he's so used to sacrifice.

Generally, every time Kacchan inspired the unlock of another OFA quirk because let's be so for real. Midoriya is Captain Save a Hoe when it comes to Bakugo and even simply Bakugo's honor. Like Bakugo can't defend himself.

Super Secret All Might Meeting in the gif above. It's just so comical, how different they are, but deep down they're so similar.

Dinner at the Todoroki's because that, too, was just so comical. You mean to tell me Bakugo can be considerate? He has manners? He's not always feral!?

First Shiggy Showdown, Bakugo's hero origin story revolving around his body moving to defend Midoriya just like Midoriya's revolved around him.

Bakugo risking further injury and limb to see Midoriya because that's the first thing on his mind as soon as he opened his eyes.

Super Secret All Might Training (with Tsu, Ochaco and Sero). The fact that Bakugo comes to terms with how shitty he's been but also that he cares so much about Midoriya that he can come to terms with the fact that his idol may be withholding stuff that could negatively impact his childhood friend. That reckoning when Midoriya still struggles to not put All Might on a pedestal is peak overprotective Bakugo.

Bakugo putting on his tie properly to appeal to Nezu and Endeavor about bringing Deku back in and how, just as Midoriya can speak to Bakugo's inner workings, Bakugo can speak to Midoriya's. Which is hilarious considering how they're both still pretty dense.

THE APOLOGY. No notes. Just kidding, one amendment. The apology followed by the forced bath of city rat smelling Deku, group project edition.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning through MHA Chapter 411.

The moment Bakugo takes the field against Shigaraki. He tells Best Jeanist to watch over everyone, as he knows he'll be abdicating that role, and he thinks about Midoriya. Which we now know he's been doing this whole time!?

Volume 29 manga cover.

Just as Midoriya has been a driving force for Bakugo, we see once again that Bakugo was a driving force for Midoriya with the way he absolutely loses his shit when he sees Bakugo's discarded body.

Volume 37 manga cover!

THE TELEPATHIC WAY THEY LAUNCHED BAKUGO TO ALL MIGHT'S AID. Featuring heavily: Bakugo and his Midoriya pickled mind. That success was so cathartic. But also Bakugo verbalizing what he felt he's always been hell bent on doing, looking out for Midoriya. Which again, kinda twisted but I'm interested to see how their story ends because I think we'll get some exposure to more of their background lore.