#genuinely one of the most miserable experiences for me

[4trackcassette]

driving in silence for hours is like okay so do you want me to kill myself.

[wastemanjohn]

🔥 i don't have topic in mind just go off

oof that's dangerous lol. i'll leave the heavy unpopular opinions for another time.

so i'll go with a softer one - cw frank poo talk

people who say they have IBS bc they take a long shit after a heavy meal, or more than one shit a day: talk to me when you've attended your friend's wedding (as a bridesmaid no less) with like the worst stomach pain of your life, belly ballooned out so far you have to pose for pretty photos while looking eleven months pregnant, having to run to the bathroom at least once an hour but you just CANNOT for the life of you take that shit. so it sits in there and gurgles especially loudly while your friend's dad is giving an emotional wedding speech to the point where people around the table are looking at you like you can fucking control your gastric system singing the song of its people and you end the day feeling exhausted and feverish and STILL can't pass the damn thing. you spend the entire celebratory breakfast the next morning in the bathroom in this tiny cafe where its so obvious where you are and what you're (trying to) do, struggling through the two hour train ride home with cramps like hell, get home and go straight to bed and take five laxatives and pray for that shit to pass (literally) - still no joy, just more cramps, gurgling and what feels like the crown of a pineapple nudging at your arsehole. so you literally almost crawl to the pharmacist across the street and beg for something to get you going. pharmacist takes one look at you and goes into the back and silently places a box of sachets on the counter, tells you to take one "and wait." doesn't explain what they are, you're so desperate you don't care, you go home and mix that up with some robinson's squash and then go back to bed. and so intensifies the cramps, so grows the pineapple, and you feel so fucking ill you're convinced at this point that you're dying, so you look at the packet again and see that mr edgelord pharmacist has given you a PRESCRIPTION ONLY BOWEL CLEANSE intended to be given to people the night before a colonoscopy. AND IT STILL ISNT FUCKING WORKING.

so at this point you call 111 crying bc you're convinced the pineapple arse baby is going to explode inside you and you're going to die of poo sepsis which is just a really unsexy way to go and you can't deal with that being your cause of death, and they tell you to get yourself to a&e right away which you do at like 5am at this point, so you get an uber to the hospital and the receptionist TRIES to tell you to go home and wait for it to pass but you're not having any of it (your memory is fuzzy aside from being taken into the back and pacing around wailing bc you can't sit down, have you ever tried to sit down on a pineapple arse baby, it's like what i imagine using a potato as a butt plug without lube would feel like), and you are probably left pacing and wailing for like 2 hours, bc this is the UK at 6am on a sunday and there's probably one doctor in the entire hospital who (understandably) doesn't think your pineapple arse baby is comparatively important; and your vitals are all fine which buys you probably another hour of pacing and wailing, and when the doctor finally comes through they brusquely finger your arse without even buying you a snack first and declare that "the rectum feels empty" like you're here for fun, and then return with a box of movicol (powdered laxatives) and tell you to go home. in what is possibly your finest and coolest moment to date you beg for an enema because you already sank a half pack of movicol (you always have a supply in your IBS cupboard bc you have one of those) and a prescription only fucking bowel cleanse and the doctor looks at you like you've come to a&e with a cut finger and tells you "it's just your IBS, wait for it to pass and see your GP tomorrow."

so you go home in an uber crying your racing heart out and sitting on your thighs while the concerned driver asks if you want to go back to the hospital and you declare no because its JUST YOUR IBS AND YOURE OVERREACTING (you may have told the driver this) and you crawl back up the stairs to your flat and go to bed and wait to die

three hours later the things my bathroom saw - well, sensitive readers may find the details disturbing so i'll omit them. but the pineapple arse baby passed over a period of about four long hours and i did not leave that bathroom the same person i was when i came in. i am actually only half joking. this was such a horrendous experience i actually had a nightmare or two about it. and now every time i have a bad ibs-c flare up, i get so anxious about this happening again i have had actual panic attacks.

... do all of this THEN come tell me you have IBS. take some imodium for your carbonara, white wine and gelato induced loose stool and stfu you little bitch.

[steelycunt]

hello good morning beautiful friends!

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Are There Still Beautiful Things? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! This is a part two! I finally got around to writing a sequel to The Ultimatum! So do me a favor and read that one first. Thanks!

Word count: 16.7k

Trigger warnings: emotional abuse, manipulative boyfriend, anxiety / depression

The following morning, Bucky floated through the apartment with silent steps. He moved with the utmost caution, sidestepping the creaky floorboard in the hall. Closing the kitchen cabinets as gently as possible. Anything to avoid waking you. After the night you’d had- the fight, the long walk in freezing rain, the tears, the panic attacks- you needed all the sleep you could get. Knowing you, he figured you’d rise around ten. You always said that anything later was a waste of the day. 

But morning came and went without an appearance from you. He listened at his bedroom door for any sign of life and found only silence. He leaned against the kitchen counter, eating the omelet he’d intended for you. It wasn’t going to be good cold, anyway. 

He wondered what your year under Alex’s thumb had been like. Suffocating, he decided. Claustrophobic. Were you ever happy? In the last year, did you experience even one instance of genuine joy? Or were you miserable around the clock? Were you constantly aching, without anyone to turn to?

Bucky folded the blankets he’d used to turn the couch into a makeshift bed. When he offered you- implored you- to take his bed, he knew you’d refuse. He knew that you’d feel guilty, that you’d say it was too kind a gesture. But it wasn’t a gesture at all. He really wanted you to take it. You’d sleep better in his bed than on the couch. And he wanted you to feel comfortable. To feel safe. 

He even changed the sheets, so you’d have a fresh set to curl up in. 

But you still refused. How could you accept an offer like that? Bucky had already done enough for you for one night; and you didn’t deserve any of it. You told him, time and time again, that the couch was just fine. That you’d survive sleeping in the living room. That he didn’t have to give up his bed for you- but he did it, anyway. 

Around 3am, you couldn’t refuse anymore. You waved a white flag; there was no fight left. On your shoulders rested the weight of Alex’s emotional abuse. And for the last year, you did your best to pretend it didn’t exist. To carry on. You put on a brave face and muscle through it, because complaining would only mean more pain. More punishment. More weight. But as you leaned against the door of Bucky’s bedroom, you couldn’t fight the heft anymore. It split your spine and crushed your lungs. Finally, it broke you.

You were too tired to argue with Bucky about who should sleep where. Too tired to put yourself back together. But Bucky was there to pick up the pieces. 

He carried you to his bed and secured the blankets around you. And for a while, no one spoke. He simply sat on the edge of the bed, holding your hand. His thumb stroked your knuckles every once and a while. His free hands adjusted your blankets where he deemed necessary. It was the most peace- the most care- you’d experienced since the last time you saw him. 

After a while, he figured he should leave you alone; he didn’t want to keep you awake any longer. And so, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, gave your hand a squeeze, and headed for the door. He told you to get some rest. To wake him if you needed anything- and he meant anything. And then he was gone.

You didn’t have it in you to call after him and beg him to stay with you. He’d done enough. So, you toughed it out. Alone. 

Everything in you just wanted to slip into unconsciousness, to sleep for eight or twenty hours. And you should’ve. You should’ve fallen asleep no problem. After everything that happened that evening- everything that happened over the last year- you were empty. Drained. And your body and mind needed rest. 

But sleep didn’t come. 

With each closing of your eyes, you were haunted by fears of Alex’s wrath. Of his consequences and punishments. Of the venom in his voice when he spoke to Bucky about you. Of returning home to him. 

The waking nightmare rooted itself in your mind- or maybe it was always there. Surely, you’d had these uneasy feelings about him before. But this was the first time you really let them sink in. The first time you’d given them any attention. 

Over the past year, you’d simply swatted these kinds of thoughts away, treating them like a bothersome gnat. But deep down, you knew they weren’t there to bother you- they were there as a warning. 

With sleep out of the question, you opted to stare at the ceiling. In the scant light that weaved through the blinds, you took stock of its appearance. It was old. Textured. Yellowed in places from water damage. Cracks veined their way across the expanse of the room, starting in one corner and ending in another. Part of you wondered how stable it was. Wondered if it the whole thing might fall in the middle of the night and crush you. You’d be okay with it if it did.

When staring at the ceiling grew boring, you turned on your side and observed the wall instead. It had scuff marks and indents. Chipping paint. But it was Bucky’s wall. And you were just lucky to be here- in his bed, staring at his bedroom wall. A long scrape across the paint rescued a long-banished memory from your most secretive vault. A vault Alex could never know about. 

It was the day that Bucky tried to put in new blinds. He’d fallen from his rickety step ladder and braced himself against the nearest wall, marring the already chipping paint with his vibranium elbow. The two of you laughed at his clumsy attempt, at his claims to be a “handyman”. 

The scene played out inside your mind and managed to bring a weak smile to the surface. But it wasn’t strong enough to keep the dread at bay.

After a while, the wall no longer held your attention. And the ceiling called your name once again.

On and on the staring-cycle went: ceiling, wall, ceiling wall. Of course, you could’ve gone to see Bucky in the living room. Or even called his name; surely, he would’ve come running. But who were you to wake him? Who were you to bother him in the middle of the night? He struggled enough with sleep as it was, and you’d kept him up late. Very late. He didn’t need you further hurting his chances for a restful night. 

Eventually, the sun peeked through the blinds, and you rolled onto your back for your ceiling-staring shift. Throughout the night, you lamented your insomnia. Cursed the buzzing anxiety that kept you awake. But as you laid there, tracing the border of the room with your eyes, a change in perspective struck you. And suddenly, the crushing weight of exhaustion didn’t bother you anymore. Because you were in Bucky’s apartment, in Bucky’s bed. This was the one place you never thought you’d see again. The one place that Alex strictly forbade. The one place that felt like home.

And though you were so tired that you swore your organs would soon fail, you didn’t care. You’d choose a lifetime of sleepless nights in this bed over a restful eight hours in Alex’s any day.

Around noon, the sharp squeak of an old hinge woke you- and you realized that you must’ve actually fallen asleep. That your body must’ve finally given out. After blinking a few times and giving your eyes a moment to adjust, you discovered the source of the sound.

There stood Bucky, still as stone, watching you. 

“Hey… sorry about the-” he pointed to the door. “The hinges are kinda old.”

“No, it’s…” you let loose a long yawn. “It’s okay.”

Bucky took a few tentative steps in your direction, as though testing the waters. Over the past year, you’d been emotionally gutted. The wounds Alex inflicted were still flayed open, bleeding. Throbbing. Bucky could practically see them spilling crimson all over the bed. Maybe you wanted him close by. Or maybe you wanted your space. 

Either way, he still wanted to check on you. He took another slow step toward you. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing, see if you need anything,” he said.

Of course, he did. Because that’s who Bucky was- that’s who he always was. Kind and caring and thoughtful. Even when you overstepped your bounds. Even when you overstayed your welcome. Even after you pulled the plug on your friendship. He was there for you. 

You couldn’t fight the smile that stretched across your lips. “Oh, thanks- thank you. Yeah, I’m alright, I don’t need anything,” you shrugged. “You’ve done enough. What time is it?”

Bucky checked his phone, “noon.”

“Jesus Christ,” you ran a hand down the side of your face. Two hours. You’d gotten only two hours of sleep. And as you took a quick inventory of your body, you realized your estimate was probably a little generous. A dull ache pounded inside your skull. A heaviness sat on your shoulders. And a dense fog coated your mind. Every fiber of your being needed more rest. But now was not the time.

You’d already ruined Bucky’s Saturday night and stolen his bed, now you’d eaten up half of his Sunday. A jolt of alarm force you into an upright position. The room spun a little as a result.

“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” you pushed Bucky’s bedspread from your body. “I didn’t actually fall asleep till about ten this morning, so I guess I was just-”

Bucky couldn’t stop the ache that pierced his chest. He knew all too well what it was like to spend the night tossing and turning. The need for sleep and the simultaneous fear of the nightmares that followed. The soul crushing exhaustion. He wished he would’ve known that you were struggling to sleep. And he kicked himself for not checking on you periodically throughout the night. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I wish you would’ve come and got me,” he sighed. “I could’ve kept you company. We could’ve watched movies or talked or-”

It was sweet. It really was. But even the thought of waking him made you feel guilty. 

“Nah, I didn’t wanna bother you. And I…” Your eyes took on a far away, hollow quality. “I had a lot to think about.”

A long silence followed. 

A hurricane of emotions tore through you, drowning you in their downpour. The pain, the loneliness, the devastation, the anger, the self-hatred, the feeling of worthlessness. The last year showed you just how toxic, how isolating a relationship could be. And you grieved the life you could’ve had. The time you’d never get back. The people-the person- you lost.

But a sharp pain sunk its fangs into your soul, filling you with venomous questions. How dare you mourn? How dare you pity yourself? How could you let Alex manipulate you? How could you go along with his ultimatum? And how could you abandon Bucky? Did you ever care about Bucky at all? What kind of person puts their boyfriend before their best friend? Why did you show up at Bucky’s door? And why did you let him take care of you? Are you really that selfish?

 Who do you think you are?

You gave your head a small shake, freeing yourself from the sharp, deadly thoughts. “Anyway, I’m gonna grab my clothes and get out of your hair.” A quiet groan escaped your lips and you pulled yourself from Bucky’s bed. “I don’t wanna take up your entire Sunday.”

Bucky held a hand up, stopping you. “Woah, what? But you only slept two hours.”

“I’m okay! Really,” you lied. “And I don’t want to impose any more than I already have.”

Bucky gave you a pointed look. Oh, how you’d missed this look. It was the same look he used to give you every time you called yourself ‘an imposition.’ Every time you swore you’d worn out your welcome. Because he never, ever saw you that way. How anyone could see you as an imposition, as a bother, made no sense to him. But he knew of one person who thought of you like that. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Barnes,” you gave a breathy, tired laugh.

“I want you to stay for as long as you like. Honestly. I’m just happy to have you around,” he said. “So, if you wanna go back to sleep for a while, go for it. You’re more than welcome here.”

The words were too kind, the sentiment too genuine. And somewhere, deep down, something inside you broke. To know that there was, indeed, still kindness in the world shattered your remaining resolve. The entire time Alex had you locked away in his tower, you wondered if anyone else’s life had drained of all warmth and color, too. If there were still beautiful things. Or if it was only you who existed in a monochromatic hellscape.

And as Bucky wrapped an arm around you and helped you sit down on the bed, you got your answer. There were still beautiful things- and he was the most beautiful of all. 

The tears flowed freely over your newly destroyed emotional dam. And silent sobs robbed the oxygen from your chest. Hot tears dampened your cheeks, your neck, the collar of Bucky’s sweatshirt. Over the course of the year, you forbade yourself from crying like this. Every once and a while, you allowed a tear or two- but that was it. You knew that if you ever let these emotions free, forcing them back inside their cage would be impossible. But this was a true catharsis. True release. And Bucky helped you through the whole thing.

He rubbed your back, wiped your face, stroked your hair. He spoke soft, reassuring words. And he never tried to stop you. Not once did he tell you to calm down or to get yourself together. He simply let you feel what you needed to feel, what you prohibited yourself from feeling for the last twelve months. 

And when you finally cried yourself out, he wrapped your limp body in a blanket and helped you lay down. 

“Uh, I feel like you’re probably pretty dehydrated now,” he said as he got you situated. “So, I’m gonna go get you some water.” 

It pulled the smallest, most fragile laugh from you. He was right. You’d depleted your body completely, and you could already feel the dehydration headache blossoming between your eyes. But you didn’t care. Bucky took a step toward the door, only to feel your limp hand hook into his. He knew you well enough to know what it meant: you didn’t want him to leave. And he returned the feeling. Now that you finally found your way back into his life, he didn’t want to spend a second away from you. But the top priority was your well-being. 

“I’m gonna be right back, I promise,” Bucky knelt by the bed, meeting your eyeline. “It’ll only take a second.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, to your cheek, to your forehead, and then slipped out of the room. 

He was gone only a few minutes- five at the most. But for you, it was too long. After spending a year without so much as speaking to Bucky, you were desperate to make up for lost time. Hungry to spend every moment with him. And even a five-minute absence was enough to make your heart ache.

“Okay, okay. I’m back. Sorry,” Bucky swept through the bedroom door, an apologetic look on his face. “I figured you should probably eat something.” He offered you a plate of toast and placed two bottles of water on the nightstand. “Toast was the quickest option, but if you want something else, I can just-”

But the way you dove into the food was all the answer he needed. He sat on the edge of the bed, 

watching you wolf down the substitute breakfast, and wished he could’ve remade the omelet he prepared for you hours earlier. But you needed him. And he didn’t want you to wait. 

It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were hungry. You’d swallowed so much grief, so much pain- you didn’t notice your empty stomach. But Alex made you miss dinner. Your exhaustion made you skip breakfast. And your meager lunch from the previous day disintegrated long ago. 

But the smell of the toast brought your hunger into crisp focus. It gnawed on the inside of your abdomen and clawed up your throat. It echoed through the void. Sharp pains needled at your insides between waves of nausea. But the peanut butter toast quelled your discomfort. 

“Thank you,” you took a long swig of water. “I needed that.” 

“Anytime.”

“So, you… you don’t mind if I try to go back to sleep for a while?” Trepidation rendered your voice almost imperceptible. Had bucky not received the serum all those years ago, he wouldn’t have heard you at all. 

He encircled your hand with one of his, “I don’t mind at all.”

“Are you sure?” you said, louder this time. “Cause if you have plans or things you need to do, I totally get it. I can just-”

Bucky pulled your body into his, quieting your rambling. “This is all I’m doing today.” He held you there for a long moment. His hand smoothed up and down your back. His breath fanned the skin on your neck. And when your anxious heartrate returned to its normal pace, he released you.

“What plans do you think I had for today, sweetheart? Do you know who you’re talking to here?” Bucky laughed. “I’m not exactly Mr. Social Life.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe you were gonna to go a movie today. Or the farmer’s market, or something.”

“Nope. I don’t have any plans to speak of,” he said as he helped you get comfortable in his bed once again. “And I went to the farmer’s market last Sunday. So, I don’t need to go again.” He shot you a wink and brushed a kiss against your cheek. “You go back to sleep. I’ll be right outside if you need me. Okay?”

You nodded against the pillow that smelled like him and gave his hand one last squeeze. Everything in you screamed, begged, howled for him to stay. But you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t ask for another favor after all he’d done for you. Could you? No. It wasn’t right. He didn’t owe you shit. Everything he did to help you came simply from the endless well of goodness within him. And you were not about to ask for more. You couldn’t. 

But you did. 

“Buck?” 

He stopped in his tracks just as he reached the door. “Yeah?”

“Would you…” you rolled your eyes at yourself. Your neediness. Your greed. “Would you stay with me for a while?”

And just like that, he crawled into bed. No hesitation. No question. 

He sat next to you, his back resting against the headboard. “This alright?”

You nodded up at him. “Is it okay if I…” You lifted your head from his pillow and opted to rest it in his lap instead. And of course, he nodded in return.

Before things fell apart, before Alex’s ultimatum- this was a standard position for the two of you. When Bucky had a nightmare, or a panic attack, or a particularly bad flashback, he’d rest his head in your lap. When things got bad for him, it was the only way to remind him that he was real. That he was here. And that he wasn’t alone. Your fingers tangled gently in his hair. Your voice quietly called him away from the edge. And after a while, he’d return to himself. 

It felt almost blasphemous to co-opt his practice. To rest your head in his lap this way- especially after the way you abandoned him. There were, without a doubt, many instances over the last year when he’d needed this, when he’d needed you. And you weren’t there. Just thinking about it sent a lightning strike through your chest. What did he do in those moments? How had his soul broken through the haze and rejoined his body? Did he sit in this very apartment, all alone, waiting for the pain and terror to ebb on their own?

These thoughts tried to pull your head from Bucky’s lap. This wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair; not to you, not to him. You couldn’t commit sacrilege in this way. Couldn’t desecrate something that was once so sacred. But just as you attempted to move away, Bucky’s gentle hand rested on your shoulder.

“You okay? Comfortable?” He smiled down at you, awaiting your response. And you couldn’t find it in you to pull away from someone so beautiful and warm and kind. 

The rest of Sunday melted by without your participation. A dreamless sleep got its hooks in you and pulled you deeper, deeper, deeper. Bucky noticed you wake only a handful of times. And though he was sure you had to be hungry again when you woke in the evening, he didn’t push the issue. He let you sleep peacefully in his lap, with his hand smoothing gently over your hair. And when it was time for him to finally get some shut eye, he repositioned your head on his chest. 

That night, he slept better than he had in a year. 

In the morning, you woke to a cold, empty bed. And just as you wondered where Bucky could’ve gone, the smell of bacon answered your question. The aggressive hunger pangs poking at your stomach grew sharper as you took a deep inhale. Bacon, eggs, toast, coffee. Coffee.  You scrambled out of bed and found Bucky in the kitchen, leaning over the stove. 

“Morning!” He dragged his gaze away from the food to steal a look at you. Messy morning hair. Tired smile. Beautiful. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

But his words didn’t register right away. Your mind was too fixated on the stove full of food. And it dawned on you: this was the first time you’d ever seen him cook. Sure enough, a cutting board with the remnants of chopped tomatoes, green onions, and bell pepper sat next to the stove. And he was expertly presiding over bacon and two perfectly constructed omelets. 

“Um, what? Oh, no, you didn’t wake me,” you said. “Buck, you’re… cooking? You have groceries?”

He nodded. “I cook now,” he said with pride. “And yeah, I have groceries. I go shopping now, too.”

It was something so small, so normal to everyone else. But to Bucky- to you- it was a big deal. A huge deal. You crossed to the fridge and gave the door a pull, only to find it fully stocked. The back of your throat tightened a bit, a warm rush of tears blurred your vision. 

He’d always needed help with that kind of thing, with taking care of himself. When he was still trying to get acclimated to this world, to this time- he found himself in a hole. He’d fallen deep, deep down into a pit of depression and anxiety and existential dread. And menial tasks like grocery shopping were too daunting. Too overwhelming. So, you picked up the slack. You brought him groceries at least once a week, sometimes twice. You cooked for him a few days out of the week. And you did it with a smile. It wasn’t a hassle or a bother. It was something you did because you cared. Because you loved him. And if he needed help, you’d be the first to volunteer for the cause. 

He always swore he could handle it, swore that you didn’t need to stock his pantry. But without you, he would’ve gone hungry. Would’ve withered away to nothing. 

Over the course of the last year, you wondered how Bucky was getting his groceries. How he was getting his meals. If he was eating enough. Was he surviving on takeout? Or was he hungry? Picturing him alone in the apartment, his stomach and fridge empty, brought you to tears on more than one occasion. 

“This is…” You cleared your throat and forbade your voice from shaking. “This is great, Buck. I was worried that you’d been living off take out this whole time.”

“Well, I would’ve been,” he laughed. “But I didn’t have to. Remember that list you made me?” 

You wiped your eyes on the sleeve of Bucky’s sweatshirt and shut the fridge door. “What list?”

“A few weeks before Alex gave you his ultimatum, he got on you for being over here so much.” Bucky rolled his eyes at the memory. “Do you remember that?”

You grimaced and eventually nodded. 

“And you told me what he said. You told me you might not get to spend as much time here. And you wanted me to be prepared. So you made me a list- a grocery list- just in case.” He turned to face you and pointed at a drawer next to the fridge, “look in there.”

Sure enough, inside the drawer, you found a list. It was pristine, save for one slightly folded corner and a small water stain. Scrawled in your handwriting on a piece of notebook paper was everything Bucky would need from the store. It detailed everything- produce, dry goods, frozen ingredients. Everything you always used to buy for him. Everything he liked. 

“I still use it every time I go to shopping,” he said. “Even though I have it memorized by now.”

The list trembled like a leaf in your shaking hands. Maybe you hadn’t left Bucky completely destitute. Just knowing he’d had this life preserver to hold onto, knowing he’d been able to get himself groceries- to feed himself- because of you made your chest tighten. 

“In all honesty, I had kind of a hard time over the last year,” Bucky admitted. He spoke with his back to you, keeping his focus on the food. He didn’t want to look you in the eye. “I missed you. I hated not having you around. But that list was… I don’t know. It made me feel like even though we weren’t friends anymore, you still cared. You know?”

Words didn’t come. And even if they did, you wouldn’t have been able to speak. The sobs you tried so hard to corral sat trapped in your throat, struggling to break free. You tucked the list carefully back in the drawer and leaned against the counter. Bucky deserved better. He’d already been through so much in his life. And yet, you’d given him yet another hard year. A year of heartache and loneliness. A year of emptiness. Of silent dinners. A year of self-soothing.

Bucky peeked over his shoulder and found you with your head in your hands. Your shoulders shook ever so slightly. A riptide of guilt instantly pulled him under.

“Oh, sweetheart, no-” he made his way to your side and wrapped you in a hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

Your arms snaked up his chest and wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer to him. He had nothing to apologize for, nothing to feel guilty about. He’d simply told the truth: he had a hard year. And that was nothing to apologize for. Especially after what you’d done to him.

But there he was, apologizing. Consoling you when you didn’t deserve it. 

“You deserved better, Buck,” you whispered against his neck. “You deserved better from me.”

Urgently, you recoiled from his embrace and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I never ever wanted to hurt you. It wasn’t fair to you. I-”

“Hey,” he took your face in his hands. “It’s all water under the bridge. Okay?”

He slipped his hand into yours before you could protest and pulled you toward the stove. “Come on, breakfast is ready.”

The two of you got comfortable on the couch with your plates; Bucky watched as you devoured your breakfast of bacon, toast, and the beautiful omelet he crafted. And he couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at his lips. This was a total role reversal for the two of you. For once, he got to take care of you. He got to be your rock, your support system. He got to cook for you, feed you. And he meant what he said earlier. Everything that happened prior really was water under the bridge. He just wanted to be there for you. To make you feel comfortable and safe and cared for. To show you the love you deserved. 

“Oh, hey, I don’t know if you need this,” Bucky grabbed your phone off the arm of the couch and placed it next to you. “It’s been sitting out here since Saturday night.”

After a few taps to the black screen, you got the confirmation you needed. “It’s dead,” you said. 

“Okay, I have a charger in the kitchen. I can-”

“No, that’s okay. It’s probably for the best,” you shrugged. “I just know I’m gonna have like, four hundred texts and ninety mean voicemails from Alex.

Bucky grimaced. “Oh. Well, if you change your mind-”

“It’s probably a sign, right? Like, if I’m dreading turning on my phone because I don’t even want to see his messages…” You took a swig of your coffee, wishing it was something stronger. “It probably means that I shouldn’t be with him anymore. Right?”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. You were absolutely right; it was a sign. A sign that you needed to evacuate your relationship. But he didn’t want to weigh in and push you to make a decision. This needed to be something you decided on your own. And so, he simply listened and let you work it out yourself. 

“I mean, just thinking about going back to the apartment makes me-” you gave strong shudder. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to live there.” The words came lightning fast, falling from your mouth before you could process or edit them. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to live with him- I don’t want to be around him. I don’t want to be with him. I don’t- I don’t want any of it.”

Bucky clocked the slight shaking in your hands, the tremor in your voice. He moved closer and enveloped you in his arms. “Okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. Alright?” He pulled away only slightly, searching for your eyeline. “You don’t have to be with him. If you’re done, then you’re done. And that’s that. Alright?”

The weight of the world suddenly vanished from its longtime perch on your shoulders. The pressure sitting on your chest evaporated. And you breathed a deep sigh of relief. The logical side of you knew that you didn’t have to be with Alex anymore. That you could pull the rip cord and free yourself at any moment. But somehow, doing so felt impossible. This whole time, the relationship felt like a jail cell. Like you’d been trapped inside puzzle box from which you couldn’t escape. But the second Bucky said it out loud, the walls of your cell disintegrated. He solved the puzzle box and let you out.

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. Um…” The smile brought on by your newfound freedom lasted only a few seconds. “But I- I do have to go back. I have to go get my stuff. I mean, my clothes, my work stuff – it’s all there.”

“So I’ll go,” Bucky said. “I don’t mind. I’ll go over there right now and get everything.”

Of course, he would. Of course, he’d drop everything and go get your stuff. Whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- he’d do it. No questions asked.

“Buck, that’s really- that’s so sweet. You’re really sweet,” You leaned into him once again, basking in his warmth. “But I- I need to be there, you know? You don’t know where everything is. And I need to make sure nothing gets left behind.” Dread filled your chest and crept up the back of your throat. If you never saw the inside of that apartment again, it would be too soon. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t go with you,” Bucky shrugged. “Let me help. It’s gonna be way too much stuff for you to carry alone, anyway.” His expression darkened a few shades, his tone grew gravely serious. “And I don’t want you there by yourself, just in case Alex is home. I don’t think you should be alone with him.”

It was a morbid thought, but you knew Bucky was right. And no part of you wanted to be alone in the apartment. Not when the ghosts of your heartache freely roamed the halls. And if Alex was there, or if he came home early, you thought it best to have a friend. A witness. 

After changing into your now dry clothes, you plugged your phone into Bucky’s charger and abandoned it on the couch. Surely, it was about to blow up with a barrage of texts and missed calls from Alex. And you weren’t going to be there when it did.

Together, you and Bucky boarded the subway and headed in the direction of the apartment you shared with Alex. Anxiety sparked in your chest and set you alight from the inside. A pit opened in your stomach. There was no getting around this; it was a necessary evil. But with Bucky by your side, it wasn’t so bad. The looming darkness parted each time you looked at him, each time he gave your hand a squeeze. He was going to get you through this if it was the last thing he ever did. 

But heartrate jumped once you disembarked the train. And it skyrocketed as you and Bucky turned onto your street. Only a few blocks away sat your nightmare, your personal hell.

As the apartment building came into focus, your feet turned to cinderblocks. 

“It’ Monday, so he’s definitely at work by now,” Bucky reassured you. “You don’t have to worry about seeing him. Okay?”

You nodded. But your feet didn’t move.

“It won’t take long. We’re gonna grab your stuff and get out as quickly as we can. And then you never have to come back.” 

He was right. This was the last time you’d ever have to return to this godforsaken place- and Alex wasn’t even home. The unpleasant memories hanging in the air couldn’t hurt you. And you were more than entitled to retrieve your things. Alex took a lot from you, and you weren’t going to let him take any more.

The doorman greeted you with a friendly smile and a familiar “welcome home” as he opened the door for you and Bucky and waved you inside. The gilded lobby never brought you much comfort. It didn’t have a homey feel, it wasn’t warm or inviting. To you, it always seemed a little obnoxious. A little full of itself. It was fancier than you ever cared to be. Alex thought it gave him status. Stature. An air of importance. The whole thing made you gag.

“Jesus, I forgot how swanky this place is,” Bucky laughed as the two of you got into the elevator. “You sure you don’t wanna live here anymore?” He let out a dramatic huff as your shoulder gently nudged against his chest. 

 “I’m more than sure.”

Sweat beaded on your palms as you approached the front door of the apartment. All you had to do was go inside, grab your stuff, and get out. It wasn’t a large task. It wasn’t even going to be that difficult. But your stomach turned at the thought of passing through that door. And just as you teetered on the edge of a spiral, Bucky piped up, saving you.

He stood in front of your door and leaned against the frame. “So, how are we getting in, exactly? You don’t have your keys, and-” But he stopped when he saw you crouching near an air vent. “What are you doing?”

“I’m retrieving my back up plan.” 

He watched as you loosened the screws holding the vent shut and reached your arm inside. 

“A couple months ago, Alex and I got into a big fight. I know, shocking,” you rolled your eyes. “I came out here to cool off and have a moment to myself, and he locked me out for… hours. So, after that, ” You removed your arm from the vent and brandished a key in Bucky’s direction. “I taped this on the inside of the vent, just in case. I never had to use it until now.”

Bucky gave you quiet round of applause, “Brilliant.” 

But it wasn’t brilliant. Because when you tried to slide the key into the lock, it refused to budge. You tried once, twice, three times. Nothing. 

“He had the locks changed…” you muttered.

“What? Already? There’s no way…” Bucky tried the key- just to be sure- and met the same end. 

The plan came crashing down around you. And your dream of never seeing Alex again shattered into tiny pieces. 

“I’m gonna have to…” You ran a hand down the side of your face. Your breaths grew sharp and shallow. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. “I’m gonna have to text him. I’m gonna have to ask him to let me in. And he’s gonna have to be here. And he’s gonna-”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky took your face in his hands, calming the panic rising in your chest. “Did you forget that I’m a supersoldier?’

“No. Buck, You can’t-”

“And why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to get in trouble,” You pulled him away from the door, worried he could break it down at any moment. “Because of your pardon. I don’t want you to risk it.”

Bucky scoffed. “It’s my pardon, doll, so, I’ll decide who I risk it for.” 

He resumed his position in front of the door and wrapped his metal hand around the knob. With one last glance over his shoulder, he ensured the hallway was empty. And when he found the coast clear, he gave the handle a sharp twist and forced his weight against the door with his metal shoulder. The wood gave a loud groan, and the new lock gave out a sharp metallic whine. But it worked. 

“Alright, let’s get inside, someone will have heard that.” Bucky ushered you inside and gave a cursory look down the hall- but found no one.

A sharp shiver crept up your spine. Goosebumps rose over your skin. The air inside seemed colder, more sinister than you remembered. But the clock was ticking, and you wanted to spend the shortest possible amount of time here. With a deep breath, you righted your mind and forced yourself to focus. When all was said and done and you successfully escaped with your things, you could fall apart. But not yet. Not now. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go grab my work stuff first. Can you…” You took Bucky by the hand and lead him into the kitchen. Under the sink, you found a box of trash bags. You freed them from the cabinet and thrust them into Bucky’s hands. “Can you go into the bedroom and just start putting my clothes in these bags? My closet and dresser are on the far side of the room.”

Bucky nodded and headed off for his mission- only to stop in his tracks. He’d only been here once, and it was far too long ago for him to remember his way around. “Um, sweetheart?” he called. 

“Down the hall, fourth door on your left!”

“God, this place is huge…” he said. His voice echoed down the hall and found you in the kitchen.

And he was right. As far as apartments go, Alex’s was massive. High ceilings, several spare rooms, a gigantic kitchen- it wasn’t anything like the shoebox apartments you’d lived in over the years. Alex insisted that you move into his cavernous home, and you obliged. But this space never felt like home to you. It was more like a museum- cold, quiet. And you always got in trouble for touching things.

In the living room, you searched for your work laptop. It always sat on the end table next to your side of the couch, but you didn’t find it there. It was unlike you to leave it anywhere else, but still, you weren’t perfect. Maybe you left it in the study, or the bedroom. Maybe it was-

Just then, something caught your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the shiny silver surface of your laptop. It lay haphazardly next the armchair, still half open. A pit formed in your stomach. And though you knew in that moment that this was Alex’s doing, what you found still knocked the wind from your chest.

Several keys were missing. The screen was cracked beyond repair. And pressing the power button brought no life. The charger sat next to your computer, having been severed right in the middle. Alex was never the destructive type- or so you thought. He never punched walls or broke things out of anger. No, he expressed his wrath through biting words that pierced your skin and made you bleed. This was a new low for him. 

Just as you’d begun to wrap your mind around the destruction, Bucky’s voice echoed from down the hall.

“Hey, doll. I think… um, you should come here.” The trepidation in his voice activated alarms inside your mind.

And though you did your best to steel yourself against what you might find in the bedroom, the reality was worse than you imagined. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Bucky draped an arm across your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “You don’t deserve this.”

Before you lay a sea of your belongings, scattered and strewn across the floor. Pages were torn from books and crumpled into balls. Large rips and tears frayed the fabric of your clothes. Feathers leaked from a hole in your pillow. Every single page of your journal had been shredded into the tiniest possible pieces. An overwhelming sense of grief punched you in the stomach. The small stuffed cat you’re your childhood had its head severed. The jewelry box your grandmother gave you in high school lay in pieces. It was all so disturbing, so demented. So purposefully and pointedly cruel.

You didn’t think it could possibly get any worse- until you decided to pop your head into the bathroom. All of your make up sat piled in the garbage. Broken bottles. Shattered compacts. Destroyed brushes. The rest of your beauty products- your skincare, your haircare, your perfume- rested on top of your make up. Every bottle had been opened and dumped out, creating a sticky, disgusting mess. There was no salvaging any of it, no saving even one item. And sprinkled on top of the entire muddied disaster was your anxiety medication- the medication you sought because of Alex’s reign of terror. He always mocked you for needing medicine, for struggling with your anxiety. Ironically, his torments made you up your dosage.

A sense of weakness crept up the back of your legs, and your knees began to buckle. If Bucky hadn’t reached you in time, you would’ve collapsed against the cold tile floor. But he saved you- again. He held you against his body as endless waves of pain washed over you. He told you time and time again that everything was replaceable, that these things were just things- and your safety was more important than any earthly possession. But his heart broke for you. These were still your belongings. They still mattered to you. And even though your life was more important, he recognized just how violating this was. How dehumanizing. 

A special kind of rage smoldered in his chest. Alex didn’t deserve you- he never did. And you didn’t deserve to be treated with such callousness. 

“We’re gonna get this taken care of. I promise,” Bucky whispered against your hair. “It’s all replaceable. And we can-”

A sudden bolt of concern hit you like a ton of bricks. You yanked your head from Bucky’s chest and met his eyes with your panic-blown pupils. And then you were gone. 

Bucky watched as you sprinted toward your nightstand, tripping over your destroyed belongings in the process. You knelt in front of your nightstand and pulled it from the wall, searching desperately for something- but Bucky wasn’t sure what. 

Relief flooded your face as you pulled a small manila envelope from behind your nightstand and held it to your chest. The two pieces of duct tape that had held it in place got stuck to your skin for just a moment, but you didn’t seem to care. Just to be sure, you opened the envelope and looked inside, breathing a deep sigh of relief upon learning that Alex didn’t touch whatever it was that you held so precious.

After that, the destruction didn’t seem to bother you as much.

The two of you stuffed all your belongings into trash bags, opting to go through them later at Bucky’s place. Surely, there was something to be saved. Something worth keeping. But determining that could take time, and you didn’t want to spend an extra second in this hellhole. 

Ripped clothes, broken shoes, and cracked picture frames- among other things- filled three large bags. And when you cleared the room, a sense of peace wrapped you in a hug. 

“Okay, what else?” Bucky asked expectantly. “Is there anything of yours in the kitchen, or the living room, or anything?”

You shook your head. “Nope, this is…” You eyed the trash bags. “This is it. This is all my stuff.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side and thought about the prized possessions from your old apartment. “Really? What about your stand mixer? Or your grandma’s quilt?”

Again, you shook your head. “All that kind of stuff is at my parents’ house. When I moved in here, Alex didn’t want me to bring any of my décor or my kitchen supplies- my stuff wasn’t fancy enough for him.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Alex seemed to be the personification of a red flag. How someone could treat another human being so poorly baffled him. And how anyone could treat you this way was beyond his comprehension.

“Okay, well, at least we know that stuff is okay,” Bucky offered. 

And he was right. When Alex first told you he didn’t want your “tacky” décor and “outdated” kitchen appliances in his home, it hurt. It made you feel small, less than. And from that day on you always felt that you needed to prove yourself to him, to show him that you were, in fact, good enough. But being good enough for him meant never curling up with the quilt your grandmother made you. Never making cookies using your mom’s hand-me-down mixer. Never feeling a sense of home.

Bucky double-checked the ties of the last trash bag, ensuring they were nice and tight. “Hey, what was all that about?” Bucky pointed to the manila envelope tucked under your arm. “Or is it a secret?’

“Technically, it’s not a secret, I guess- well, it’s not a secret from you. But it was a secret from Alex.” You freed the envelope from under your arm, “It’s not juicy or scandalous or anything, but it’s important to me. And-”

The sound of footsteps in the kitchen halted your words. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. A cold sweat appeared across the surface of your skin. And you feared the beautiful breakfast Bucky worked so hard to make you would make a reappearance.

“Hello? Hey, sweetheart…” Bucky waved a hand in front of your face. He’d been trying to get your attention for a few moments now to no avail. You were still as stone, completely frozen with fear. He placed his hands on your shoulders and gave you a soft shake. “Doll.”

“Buck…” Only your eyes moved. Finally, you met his gaze with your massive, terror-dilated pupils. “He’s here. I can’t- I can’t do this. I’m not-”

“Hey, hey- it’s okay.” His palms rested on your cheeks, “You’re fine. You’re okay. You don’t have to talk to him – you don’t even have to make eye contact with the guy, okay?” He waited, allowing your panic-struck brain to process his words. And finally, you granted him a small nod.

He swept his thumbs over your cheeks one final time before pulling his hands from your face. He lifted a garbage bag from the floor and handed it to you. 

“Here, you take this. And I’ll-” He picked up the other bags and tucked one under each arm, “I’ll take these. And we’re out of here. Okay? We’re just gonna walk right out.”

With another nod, you agreed to his plan.

But walking past Alex without speaking, without making eye contact seemed easier said than done. After being with him for so long, you knew he wasn’t going to just let you breeze past him. He wasn’t going to let you go without a fight- not because he loved you, but because his pride wouldn’t allow it. 

The anxiety made your head swim and left you weak in the knees. Your vision blurred; your chest tightened. You knew Alex was waiting for you, smug and impatient. You knew he was going to tear into you the second he laid eyes on you. But there was only one way out of the apartment. And if you could just make it out the door, you’d be free. And so, with Bucky gently encouraging you, the two of you headed for the exit. 

Bucky went first, hoping to take the brunt of the verbal assault. Putting himself between you and Alex and providing you with a shield seemed like the best possible plan to Bucky. He wasn’t going to allow you to go first, not when Alex could so easily lunge at you or throw something in your direction. And after witnessing Alex’s destruction of your personal belongings, Bucky knew there was a chance that Alex would try something. That he might be violent. 

Finally, the two of you made it to the kitchen. Bucky locked eyes with Alex first, eliciting a loud guffaw from your soon-to-be-ex’s lips. 

“Wow. How’d I know you’d be with him?” Alex let out a sharp laugh as you entered the kitchen. “How’d I know?” 

But you didn’t answer. You kept your eyes down, just as Bucky instructed, and allowed the sound of your best friend’s quiet reassurances guide you forward. Shuffling through the kitchen with a garbage bag full of your broken belongings, avoiding your tormentor’s eye contact- it all felt so pathetic. You’d never felt so low, so small.

“You look so surprised to see me, baby!” Alex teased. Your skin crawled. “Guess you didn’t realize that the neighbors like me better than you. And that they’d call me when the saw you break the lock.”

You refused to take the bait. Refused to let him get a reaction out of you. All he wanted was the satisfaction of upsetting you. The gratification of hurting you and twisting he knife. And you weren’t going to give it to him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Alex took only one step in your direction, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. “You’re not gonna- Hey! You look at me when I’m talking to you!” He dropped his teasing, taunting tone and adopted the sharp, volatile way of speaking he often used around you. 

Instantly, your gaze snapped in Alex’s direction. Muscle memory did its best to protect you, to remind you that obeying was always yielded better results than the alternative. He locked eyes with you, fury burning behind his stare. He took another step toward you, prompting Bucky to block your body with his.

“You’re not gonna break into my house, steal a bunch of shit, and get off scot-free,” Alex scolded. 

Bucky stepped closer to Alex, allowing you to make a path toward the front door. Seeing Bucky stand up to the man who’d made your life a living hell brought the smallest of smiles to your face. He really cared about you. Wanted to defend you. It was a new experience for you. On one occasion, a handsy, shitfaced man at a bar downtown felt you up as you waited for a drink. You looked to Alex for help, for defense, for something- but he didn’t care. He bought the offender a drink and apologized for your antics.

But anyone who hurt you hurt Bucky, too.

A debate sparked inside of you at the site of Bucky taking such a confrontational stance toward Alex. Half of you wanted Bucky to back off, to stay away from Alex, to protect his pardon. But the other half wanted nothing more than to watch Bucky tear Alex to shreds. To see Alex’s blood stain the brilliant marble floors. 

Once you’d gotten out of Alex’s reach, Bucky turned his back on the man and headed in your direction. Freedom was so close- you could almost taste it. But just as you reached for the door, Alex said something that stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Okay, sure! Have fun with the psychotic murderer!” 

Something inside you snapped.

Slowly, deliberately, you turned in his direction. The trash bag tucked under your arm fell to the floor, and all fear Alex previously elicited within you vanished. That anxiety, that panic vacated its spot, making room for a white-hot rage. 

Bucky’s hand encircled your wrist, “Sweetheart, don’t. He’s not worth it.”

But it was too late. No one- especially not Alex- was allowed to speak about Bucky that way. No one was allowed to disparage the kindest person you’d ever met. Over the course of your painful relationship with Alex, you stood up for yourself once. Maybe twice. It never seemed like it was worth the effort or the fight, but Alex speaking about Bucky with such blind hatred ignited a fire within you. Bucky was worth the fight. 

“First of all,” you said, “You don’t get to talk about him. You don’t know him- you’re not good enough to know him. He’s a better person that you could ever dream of being. Because Bucky actually has a soul. He actually knows how to care for people.”

Adrenaline rushed to your head. Speaking to Alex this way felt good- amazing, even. And without fear of consequences or retaliation, you let loose.

“And second, I didn’t break into your house if this is my house too- and you changed the locks!” You spat at him. His eyes widened a bit as your unexpected ferocity boiled over. “And this stuff-” you pointed to the garbage bags, “is mine! It’s my stuff that you broke because you had a fucking tantrum! I’m not stealing anything from you… you stole from me! You stole over a year of my life that I will never get back.”

You took a few more steps in Alex’s direction, much to Bucky’s dismay.

“You did everything you could to tear me down and fucking destroy my self-worth. You pulled me away from my family and my friends- and for what? Just so you could feel special? So, you could feel superior? Are you that insecure? Is your manhood that fragile?”

Alex’s bravado faltered every so slightly. His smug grin faded. His jaw tensed. But he did his best to recover. To seem aloof, bored. He rolled his eyes, “Well, I-”

“I’m speaking,” you hissed. 

Alex quieted. Fear flickered in his eyes.

“You controlled every fucking aspect of my life!” you yelled. “You made me believe I wasn’t good enough- that you were the only one who would ever love me. And you gave me a goddamn ultimatum that almost ruined my friendship the person who loves me most- with the person I love most.”

Bucky couldn’t help the blush that warmed his cheeks.

“Most of the things you did to me can be fixed. I’ll rebuild my self-worth. I can fix my relationships with my friends. But the one thing I will never get back is the time that I could’ve spent with Bucky,” your voice wavered ever so slightly, but the wrath burning inside you immediately fortified it again. “And for that, I wish you nothing but pain and suffering.” 

Satisfied, you turned on your heel and headed for the door. But Alex wasn’t done.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy cause I didn’t want you spending all your time with another man?” Alex scoffed. ”You were always sleeping over at his house- in his fucking bed. When you weren’t talking to him, you were talking about him. You always put him first- you’re IN LOVE with the guy!”

Neither you nor Bucky spoke. And you didn’t dare look at him. An intense warmth rushed into your cheeks. Your heart raced. And though you wanted to throw a rebuttal in Alex’s face, no words came. You hated to admit it, but he was right. 

You were, of course, in love with Bucky. You always had been- it wasn’t even a question. How anyone met him and didn’t fall in love with him was a mystery to you. He was so sweet, so thoughtful, so endlessly and overwhelmingly kind. He made you laugh harder than anyone you’d ever known. Loving him came instantly. Naturally. 

Bucky’s mouth ran dry at Alex’s accusation. And his heart stopped when you didn’t refute it. Never before had he ever rooted for Alex, of all people, to be right. But there’s a first time for everything.

“But, yeah,” Alex continued, “I’m the bad guy cause I didn’t want my girlfriend whoring herself out to some other guy…”

A past version of you would’ve teared up at a comment like that. Alex’s words would’ve broken your heart and left you bleeding all over the place. But this new you- the version that Bucky helped coax into the world- didn’t care. Alex didn’t have power of you, not anymore.

With a chuckle, you turned your back on Alex and strutted toward the door. He hollered insults at you- calling you a slut, a whore, a good-for-nothing bitch. But the words rolled off of you like water off a duck’s back.

“Good luck with her, man!” Alex called after Bucky, “You can have her! Please, take her off my hands! She’s all yours.” 

Bucky followed you into the hallway, beaming with pride. He’d wanted to speak up, to tell Alex off, to tear him apart for speaking badly of you. But this was your fight, not his. And he knew you didn’t need anyone defending your honor. Didn’t need him stealing your moment. After everything Alex did to you, you deserved to scream at him. To get everything off your chest. To give Alex a small taste of his own medicine. Bucky was only there for moral support. For protection. 

He placed your things gently on the floor and wrapped you in a bear hug. This was the version of you he’d known so well all those months ago. Before Alex stripped you of your confidence and whittled you down to nothing. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered against your neck. “That’s my girl.”

“Thank you…” You breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. Finally, it was over. But it still felt too early to celebrate, to revel in the victory. You were still in the hallway outside the apartment. Still in the building. Still, technically, in Alex’s clutches. “Let’s get out of here.”

“One sec. I forgot something.” Bucky turned for the door, but you caught his arm.

“Don’t,” you pled. “Just don’t. I know what you’re thinking, and he’s not worth it.” You just knew Alex would take such unbridled joy in Bucky physically attacking him. Knew he’d love nothing more than to have Bucky arrested and charged with assault. The thought made you nauseous. “He’s not worth your pardon.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt nim,” he promised. “I just wanna talk to the guy.”

For a long moment, you searched his face for any sign that he was lying. The twitch of a brow. The hint of a smile. But you came up empty. And so, you released him. 

“Wait for me downstairs, okay?” He brushed a kiss against your cheek and disappeared inside the apartment once again.

Bucky found Alex leaning against the counter, whiskey in hand. He barely looked up at the sound of Bucky’s boots, but Bucky clocked the eye roll Alex threw his way. 

“Let me guess, you’re back to teach me a lesson?” Alex mocked. “Oh, I’m so scared of the depressed, PTSD- riddled, lame-ass version of the Winter Soldier.” He feigned a fearful expression and made himself laugh before taking a swig of his drink. “What are you gonna do, therapize me to death?”

But Bucky maintained a calm aura- almost too calm. His hands didn’t shake with fury. His heartrate didn’t spike. He kept his breathing even. He approached Alex with a thin, tense smile, and even maintained the expression as his metal hand wound around the man’s throat. Before Alex knew what hit him, his body was pressed against the nearest wall. His feet dangled a few inches above the floor as he fought for his freedom, but it was useless. 

Bucky’s tone was composed, measured, even. It sent a chill down Alex’s spine.

“You know how much pain you inflicted on her,” Bucky said. “But you didn’t actually experience it yourself. You didn’t feelit. And as much as I would love to give you a first-hand recreation…” His grip tightened ever so slightly. “I promised her I wouldn’t hurt you. So, I’m just gonna tell you what will happen if you ever bother her again. You listening?”

Alex struggled to nod. A breathy “yes” was all he could manage.

“Good.”

Bucky’s voice grew lower, sharper, vicious. “I’ll break every single one of your ribs. One at a time. I’ll crush your chest so painfully slowly that you will feel the shards of your bones pierce your heart and lungs. And I’ll watch with a smile as you drown in your own blood,” Bucky said. “You will never speak to her or about her ever again- you won’t even think about her. And if you so much as mention her name- if you say anything less than gracious about her in your little douchey finance bro group text, I will make your life a living hell.” He paused a moment, relishing in Alex’s terrified expression. “You keeping up so far?”

Again, Alex struggled to speak. The lack of air and sudden influx of fear left him almost unable to think. But he managed a quiet “yes.”

“Excellent,” Bucky smiled. “You won’t call her. You won’t text her. You won’t harass her. You won’t stalk her social media or drunkenly call her at two in the morning. You’re going to leave her alone- forever. And if you ever- ever- contact her again, I’ll know. And I’ll be here. I’ve broken that door down once, I’ll be happy to do it again.”

With that, he released his grip on Alex’s neck and sent him crashing to the floor. Watching the man who hurt you sputter and struggle for breath filled Bucky with a sick, twisted kind of joy. Finally, it was Alex who was scared. Alex who was uncomfortable. Alex who felt pain. 

“The only contact you’re going to have with her,” Bucky continued, “is the Venmo payment you’re gonna send her for all of the things of hers you destroyed. Her clothes, her make up, her jewelry- all of it. And it’s going to be a very generousamount to make up for all of the sentimental stuff you destroyed, since you know damn well that she won’t be able to replace any of it.” He knelt next to Alex, getting extra close to the terrified man shaking on the floor. “And I know you’ve got the money. So, if it’s not enough, I’ll be back.”

He flashed a winning smile Alex’s way, “Have a nice day.”

Finally, he stood and stalked for the door, a satisfied smile stretching across his face.

The minutes dragged by without Bucky. You sat perched on one of the sofas in the apartment lobby, waiting for him to meet you. Every time the elevator doors opened, you hoped to see his tall frame and your other two bags of stuff. And every time, you were disappointed. It was nice of him to put his pardon on the line for you, to risk his freedom in order to get you the justice you deserved. But it was the last thing you wanted. After spending so much time away from him, your greatest desire was to simply be with him. To spend every minute with him. And you couldn’t do that if he landed himself in prison on assault charges. 

When he finally made his way to the lobby, you scanned him for any signs of a struggle. But his clothes weren’t out of place. And you didn’t find blood crusted over his knuckles. Nothing was amiss. He had the two remaining bags of your belongings tucked under his arms, and a calm, cool demeanor. But even though he didn’t seem riled up, you eyed him with suspicion. Surely, he hadn’t spent all that time upstairs just talking to Alex. 

“Hey, I’m gonna call us an Uber,” Bucky said as he met you at the couch. “That way we don’t have to bring all of your stuff of the train. Are you-”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What did you do?”

Bucky shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. I just wanted to talk to him-”

“Buck…”

“What?” He shot you a mischievous grin. “I just wanted to give him a piece of my mind. He’s still alive, still breathing, and all of his blood is inside of his body where it belongs.” A sudden seriousness eclipsed his expression. He dropped the playful attitude, placed your things on the couch, and pulled out his phone. “Anyway,” he tapped away at his phone, calling the two of you a ride. “Let’s get you the hell out of here. Sound good?”

He got his answer in the form of a long, nearly asphyxiating hug. The sheer force of your body launching into his knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him reeling backward. A deep laugh bellowed from his chest as he righted his footing and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Thank you so much…” you whispered against his neck. “For everything.”

Bucky’s lighthearted laughter vanished. “Of course, sweetheart.” He doubled down on the hug, pulling you tighter. “You know I always have your back.”

He refused to break the hug. Instead, he allowed you to rest there in his arms, with your face buried in the crook of his neck. Passersby threw strange looks your way, but Bucky paid them no mind. Only when his phone chimed, signaling the arrival of your car, did you finally force yourself to withdraw from his embrace. 

The ride back to Bucky’s was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of your garbage bags. And though you didn’t say a word over the course of the drive, you didn’t dare let go of Bucky’s hand. Your fingers remained so tightly intertwined with his that your knuckles ached- but you held firm. You knew better than to release your grip on a life preserver. 

“Alright, um, is there someplace you want me to set all this stuff?” you asked once you’d returned to Bucky’s. You eyed your overstuffed trash bags sitting in the middle of the living room floor. “I don’t want them to be in the way.”

Bucky just shrugged; he really didn’t seem to mind that your belongings completely encroached on his space. “I’m not worried about it, doll,” he shot you a reassuring smile, “You put ‘em wherever you like.”

But you couldn’t let your things take up the entirety of Bucky’s living room. After everything he’d done for you, you refused to be a less than perfect houseguest. With the toe of your shoe, you pushed the bags into a corner to keep them out of Bucky’s way. You sunk your weight into the large, overstuffed bags, hoping to make them as small as you possibly could. It was the very least you could do. 

“Alright, I’m-” You grabbed your phone off the charger and cleared Alex’s old notifications from the screen with a roll of your eyes. “I’m gonna go call my boss and let her know that a petulant man-child destroyed my work laptop.”

Bucky loved hearing you talk this way. Only a few hours ago, speaking about Alex made you shudder. It turned into a shaking, fragile shell of yourself that Bucky almost didn’t recognize. But you’d stood up to him. You finally fought back. And now, you were casually shit-talking him in Bucky’s living room. 

“And then I’m gonna start looking for a new place to live so I can get out of your hair as soon as possible,” you said as you scrolled through your contacts in search of your boss’s number. “I’m gonna borrow your room for a minute so I can talk with my boss. I’ll be right back.”

The stress of your current situation poked at the back of your mind. You did your best to shut it out and keep moving forward, but pangs of anxiety shocked you every few moments. Yes, you’d freed yourself from Alex’s shackles. And yes, you finally had Bucky back. But your work computer was a goner. You’d missed two meetings today already. And you were now without a place to live. 

Bucky listened to your footsteps growing further and further down the hall as your words buzzed inside his brain. You were going to look for a new place to live. You were going to leave. He didn’t mean to blurt it out, didn’t mean to make his offer in such a strange fashion- but he couldn’t help it.

“You could always live here,” he called after you. And it was too late to force the words back into his mouth. 

Once again, you joined him in the kitchen, a look of bewilderment on your face. “What?”

A nervous smile stretched across Bucky’s face. “I just mean, you’re more than welcome to live here. With me,” he shrugged. “I know this place isn’t nearly as nice as Alex’s, and it’s only a one bedroom- but if you wanted to live here, we could make it work. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

The absurdity of Bucky’s words made you shake your head. “Buck, I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch in your own home-”

“It’s really okay,” he insisted. “We both know I don’t sleep much, anyway. And if you moved in here, I’d want you to take the bedroom.”

His kindness gave you whiplash. After being with someone so callous, so cruel for so long, Bucky’s warmth was shocking. Unexpected. And though you wanted nothing more than to make a home with him, you couldn’t accept his offer. 

“I can’t do that to you…”

“Yes, you can. I want you to.” Bucky was resolute in his words. His voice didn’t waver, he didn’t break eye contact. He meant what he said.

A long silence filled the room. Of course, you wanted to say yes. You wanted to move in with him and start the next chapter of your life with your best friend by your side. But just as your ‘yes’ tried to slip out of your mouth, you stopped it. You couldn’t accept his offer. At least, not with the proposed conditions. 

“Counteroffer,” you said. “I move in here, and we share the bedroom.”

Your proposal threw Bucky for a loop- but he’d do anything you wanted. All you had to do was ask. 

“Okay, yeah,” he conceded. “The room’s kinda small but we could fit two small beds in there. It might be a little cramped, but-”

“That’s not what I meant,” you laughed. “We would share the bed. I mean, we’ve slept in that bed together more times than I could count. This wouldn’t be any different.”

Bucky’s heart soared. Not only did he have his best friend back- but you wanted to share a bed like the old days. The good days. It was all he could’ve hoped for. 

“And, that way, I’ll be right there in case you have a nightmare or a panic attack,” you said, satisfied. “I can wake you up and make sure you’re alright.” The smile on your face was warm, genuine. You looked forward to helping Bucky, to comforting him. “It’s a win-win in my book.”

It made Bucky melt. He extended a hand in your direction, “Works for me, doll. Deal?”

You extended your hand and almost met his- but an anxious thought made you recoil.

“And you’re sure that you’re okay with me being here all the time? You’re not gonna get tired of me?”

Alex always made you feel like a bother. He’d asked- practically begged- you to move into his apartment. But once you finally fulfilled his request, he looked at your presence with contempt. He made it known that he was frustrated, that he felt like you were always around. And regardless of your newfound freedom, that wound hadn’t healed.

“Cause I work from home, you know. So, I’m gonna be here a lot,” you told him. “I mean, pretty much all day, every day. And if that’s too much, I-”

“I want you to be here- all the time,” Bucky promised. 

And he meant it. 

Finally, your hand found his and delivered a firm shake. “Deal.”

With your housing arrangements taken care of, you once again headed down the hall to call your boss. Everything felt lighter, easier, less overwhelming. Only moments ago, you didn’t know where you’d be sleeping a few days from now. But Bucky swept in- again- and saved the day. He offered you the homelife you’d dreamt of every night since meeting him. He made your dream a reality. 

Bucky remained in the kitchen, silently processing what just happened. Did he really ask you to move in? And did you actually say yes? His heart pounded in his chest. This was the best possible outcome. The fantasy he’d envisioned for years. To have you so close by, to see you every day, to live under the same roof as you- it was all he’d ever wanted. His eyes drifted to the garbage bags that you shoved into a corner of his living room. When he said that he didn’t mind you putting them there, he meant it. He was just happy- elated, really- to have your things in his home. To know that this was their permanent residence. To know that this was your permanent residence. 

And though everything in those bags was mostly destroyed, you were okay. You were safe and comfortable. You were home now. 

When you finally finished your call, you found Bucky in the kitchen. He stood over a swath of sandwich ingredients, assembling a much-needed meal for the two of you.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said. “You in the mood for lunch?”

“I’m starving,” you told him. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you were hungry. The stress of the day muted your body’s hunger signals completely. But somehow, Bucky knew. He always knew what you needed.

The two of you sat on the living room floor, going through your possessions and eating your sandwiches. Bucky helped you comb through each bag of stuff as you determined what, if anything, could be salvaged. His heart broke as the ‘trash’ pile grew, and grew, and grew. It severely outweighed the ‘save’ pile- and you’d only been through one bag. Alex reduced your belongings by at least seventy percent. But you didn’t seem to mind much.

As you were made well aware, there were worse things in life than torn clothes and destroyed make-up. A volatile, loveless relationship, a partner who hated you, a year without the person you loved most; your broken laptop paled in comparison. 

Only one possession really mattered to you- and it survived the rampage. But as you glanced over at the kitchen counter in search of your manila envelope, your heart stopped. Every function within your body came to a screeching halt. It was nowhere to be seen.

Did you drop it in the apartment lobby? Forget it in the Uber? Was your most beloved personal item sitting on the sidewalk outside Alex’s building?

Bucky clocked the anxiety in your expression, the way your eyes searched every inch of the kitchen. He could always sense even the smallest of changes in your demeanor- sometimes before you sensed them yourself. 

“Hey, is everything alright?”

“I’m just looking for my-” A sigh of relief left your chest as your gaze landed on your envelope. It was tucked under a worn cookbook, with only one of its manila corners poking out. “Never mind, I found it.”

Bucky glanced over his shoulder and scanned the kitchen until he realized what had you so panicked. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t want to get anything on it while I was making us lunch,” Bucky said. “So, I just put it under my cookbook to be safe. Is that okay?”

With a breathless nod, you assured him it was just fine. But your heart still boomed inside your chest, and the sweat on your palms still left your skin slick. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal with that envelope?” Bucky asked, testing the waters. “If it’s none of my business, I completely understand. But I could’ve sworn you were about to tell me back at the apartment.”

“And someone just had to interrupt us,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain. “It’s not too personal, I just had to hide it from Alex. I want you to see, though.”

Bucky was right about one thing. You’d tried to show him the contents of the envelope back at Alex’s. But he had the rest wrong; it was his business just as much as it was yours. He just had no idea how personal the contents of that envelope were to him.

You ditched the pile of damaged clothes sitting in your lap and stood, offering your hand to Bucky. “Come on, let me show you.”

Bucky gladly accepted your hand and laced his fingers with yours on the walk to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what to expect from your special, secret envelope. But he didn’t care. Whether it was a child’s messy crayon drawing or the nuclear codes- it didn’t matter. All that mattered to him was that the contents of this envelope were important to you. And if they were important to you, they were important to him.

“Okay, so, a little backstory…” You slid the envelope out from underneath the book and held it to your chest. “After Alex told me to stop spending so much time with you but before he issued the ultimatum, we got into this big fight,” you rolled your eyes, “I know that comes as a surprise to no one.”

Bucky chuckled at your joke, but the words made his chest ache. To him, your time with Alex sounded more like active combat than love. More like a battlefield than a relationship. 

“And during that fight,” you continued, “he told me I had way too many pictures of me and you on my phone. He thought that at least three-quarters of my phone’s storage was just pictures of us, and he said it was disrespectful to my relationship with him.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “of course, he did.”

“So, he told me I needed to go through my camera roll and delete every picture of you and me. He said it needed to be done by the time he got home from work the next day, and they actually had to be gone for real. Not saved to the cloud. Not hidden in a private album. Deleted forever.”

Bucky grimaced, “That’s fucking vile.” 

It made Bucky sick to his stomach. He cherished his photos of the two of you. Over the course of the last year, he found himself scrolling through those pictures every day. Several times a day. It was a coping mechanism, a respite from the void you left behind. When his chest ached with the pain of missing you, he’d dive headfirst into the hundreds of photos of the two of you. The selfies from the zoo. The pictures from Sam’s wedding. The blurry snapshot of you braiding his long hair. And for a while, he felt like himself again. The pain would ebb, the soul-crushing grief would let up. It was his saving grace.

If he suddenly had to rid his phone of those images, he’d never know peace again.  

“I know. I thought so, too,” a disgusted look pulled at your features. “But I didn’t wanna cause any more problems between he and I, you know? I didn’t want to give him more reasons to be pissed at me…”

Bucky nodded.

“But there was no way I was ever going to delete our pictures,” you swore. “So, when he was at work the next day, I transferred every photo and video of you and me onto an external hard drive and took it to my sister’s place for safekeeping.”

Bucky’s heart swelled. You didn’t delete the pictures- you couldn’t. They were just as important to you as they were to him. He, of course, never doubted that you valued his friendship. But knowing that you couldn’t bear to part with the pictures of the two of you made him blush. He almost wished you hadn’t risked Alex’s wrath just to save those pictures. Hadn’t put yourself in such a dangerous position. But you did. And it filled him with an all-encompassing warmth. 

“There was one picture- my favorite picture in the world- that didn’t have a digital copy, though. It only exists as an actual, physical print. So, I couldn’t just put it on the hard drive and call it a day. And I didn’t have it in me to hand it over to my sister. I just- I love it too much.” It was a little embarrassing to admit just how much you needed this polaroid picture. But Bucky didn’t make a judgmental comment or laugh at you. He simply listened, happily awaiting the next part of your story.

“So, I put it in this envelope and taped it to the back of my nightstand so Alex would never find it. And when things with him were really awful- which was all the time- and I just needed an escape… I’d go into our room, lock the door, and just stare at this picture for a while.” You blinked away the tears forming along your lash line and swallowed the lump in your throat. 

Carefully, you opened the envelope and freed the polaroid from its hiding place. Revealing it to another person almost felt like stripping naked. This picture was your everything, your most prized possession. Sharing it felt like exposing the deepest, most secretive part of your soul. 

“It might sound kinda stupid, but this thing saved my life during the last year.”

And finally, you presented Bucky with the photo. He took in a small gasp at the sight of this relic of your friendship. Cautiously, he accepted the polaroid and held it with the utmost care. He hadn’t seen this photo in ages; part of him assumed it was long-lost by now. But you’d had it this whole time, cherishing it every single day. 

“Oh, I love this one…” He carefully drank in each detail of the photo, examining it one piece at a time.

It was a snapshot of a perfect moment, frozen in time. Confetti littered the floor, empty solo cups laid abandoned on the coffee table. And there you stood next to Bucky, with one of his arms wrapped lovingly around your shoulders. You were laughing at something; Bucky couldn’t remember what. But he remembered the feeling it gave him- the feeling of warmth. The feeling of home. His lips were pulled into a wide smile as he beamed down at you, drowning in adoration. Sure, it was slightly out of focus and tad bit blurry. But it perfectly illustrated the way you and Bucky felt about each other. The way you cared for each other. Cherished each other. 

Bucky traced the corners of the photo with his fingers, “I never knew where this thing ended up. I’m so glad you kept it.”

“Yeah…” A hurricane of memories hit you all at once, reminding you of all the times you sought solace in that photo. It gave you the comfort Alex withheld. The strength to carry on. The hope that, one day, you’d see Bucky again. “Me too. I just hate that I had to hide it, you know?”

“Hey, how about we do this…” Bucky took your hand in his and walked you over to the fridge. He freed his hand for a moment, only long enough secure the photo to his fridge with a magnet. His hand found yours once again, and the two of you admired your polaroid’s new home.

“I can go get you a frame for it tomorrow, that way you can display it properly. And you can see it every day. But I thought this would be good for now,” he said. “You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

And for a long while, the two of you just stood there in front of the fridge. No one spoke- no one needed to. Bucky freed his hand from yours and opted instead to wrap his arm around your shoulders, just as he’d done in the photo. 

The weight of this moment would’ve shocked a stranger. To anyone else, a blurry photo on a fridge wouldn’t require this much admiration. This much reverence. But to you, this was everything. Six months ago- even a week ago- you never would’ve thought this was possible. You never would’ve thought you’d be here, in Bucky’s apartment, with your favorite photo proudly displayed for all to see. A familiar stinging sensation warned you of the oncoming tears, but you didn’t make an effort to stop them. 

If a genie offered you one wish, you’d wish to go back in time. You’d want to warn your past-self of the slippery slope of Alex’s manipulation. Of the pain and suffering and heartache he caused. Of the way you lost out on a year with your most cherished friend. But with no genie in sight, you opted to simply live better. Love better. And be honest with people- with Bucky.

“Hey, by the way,” you broke the silence. “I wanted to talk to you about something Alex said to me earlier…” It was a miracle the words even came; you were too nervous to even breath. “I just think I should set the record straight and-”

Bucky held up a hand, silencing you. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to say anything,” Bucky assured you. “I know he’s just an insecure guy who was feeling threatened, or whatever. I’m not gonna hold you to anything he said.”

You took a step back, freeing yourself from Bucky’s embrace. You needed the space, the distance. If you were going to be honest with him, you needed a clear head. And being so close to him was enough to make you drunk.

“That’s not what I was gonna say.” You paced back and forth a little before almost shouting, “I was gonna say that he was right- I am in love with you. And I have been for a long time.”

A loaded silence sucked all of the oxygen out of the room. No one spoke, no one even moved.

Bucky felt his skin burst into flames. He feared his heart might explode. For so long, the only feeling he’d known was sorrow. Grief. Missing you became his constant state of being. But now, here you were. And you were saying things- things he’d always wanted to hear. Part of him wondered if this was some kind of very long, very detailed dream. But no, this was real. You were right there in from of him, baring your soul and confessing your love. 

“That’s…” he took a deep breath, “that’s not at all what I expected you to say.”

The seconds crept by until they became a minute. Two minutes. Three. But Bucky didn’t say anything else. He let his simple response hang in the air without elaboration. And just like that, your hope imploded. Four minutes of quiet past. And just when the fifth grew close, Bucky finally spoke.

“I bet you don’t know the backstory of that picture.”

A quizzical look pulled at your features. Frustrated hardened your voice. “Buck, I just told you that I’m in love with you, this is not the time to talk about backstory.”

Bucky just shook his head, “come on, humor me, doll.” He shrugged, waiting for you to tell him the story.

“Okay, I mean, I was literally there, so I do know the back story,” you huffed. “It was after Sam’s birthday party. Everyone else had left except for us, Sam, and Nat. We were all goofing around at like, three in the morning or something. And Nat took the picture.” You gave him an expectant look, “there you go. Backstory.”

Bucky made a dissatisfied sound but couldn’t fight the shit-eating grin creeping through his serious exterior. “Hmm, not Quite.”

“What? That is the story, what are you-”

“Technically, yes, that is the story,” the conceded. “But it’s not the full story.”

An irritated sigh left your chest, “okay, fine. What’s the ‘full story’?” You’d never been this frustrated with Bucky before. Never felt this much annoyance toward him; you didn’t like it. He was being difficult on purpose, and clearly enjoying it.

“Well, it was after Sam’s birthday party. And it was only the four of us there, like you said. But…” he began, “After Nat took the picture, she dragged you into the kitchen so you two could take shots. And once you were out of earshot, Sam kinda shoved my shoulder.”

“Okay…”

“And he said I just needed to marry you already.”

Your heart stopped.  “I told him- I swore we were just friends,” Bucky laughed at the preposterous lie. “I told him things with us were strictly platonic. And Sam laughed in my face. He said- and this is a direct quote- ‘platonic my ass. You’re in love with her. If you two aren’t together one year from now, I’ll give you five hundred bucks.’”

He paused, trapping you in suspense. 

“And he was right,” Bucky said. “I was in love you- I am in love with you. I always have been.”

Thousands of thoughts crowded your already overwhelmed mind. Words refuse to string themselves together properly. Thoughts collided with each other and turned into messy, jumbled piles. Somewhere within you, a sense of urgency erupted. Something told you to act- act right now. Don’t give Bucky the time to take it back. Don’t give him the opportunity to say, “never mind”. 

But what were you supposed to say to that? It wasn’t what you’d expected- you hadn’t even let yourself hope for something like this. And now that your ideal scenario was playing out of front of you, you were completely and utterly unprepared.

A few clunky sounds fell out of your mouth; they didn’t even resemble an actual word. You thought it was maybe a combination of “wow” and “cool”- mixed with a healthy dose of unintelligible mumbling. It wasn’t like the smooth, well-crafted delivery that Bucky displayed. Your cheeks burned with humiliation as Bucky stared at you, awaiting your response. 

Everything in you wished you were cooler. Smoother. Less embarrassing. On rare occasions, you let yourself imagine what this moment might be like. And in your head, you always handled it with poise. With grace. In your daydreams, there wasn’t any awkward mumbling or charged silence. Instead, you and Bucky would fall together seamlessly after confessing your love in perfect, poetic sonnets.

This was not that. 

But this was better. Because it was real. Because the Bucky Barnes was standing in front of you, telling you that he loved you. 

Finally, you found your words. 

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear.” 

Bucky’s chest deflated with a deep sigh of relief. Because even though you’d professed your love for him only moments ago, your long silence forced his anxiety into overdrive. What if you were just making a weird joke? What if he’d taken it too seriously? 

But the way you wrapped your body around his confirmed that, yes, you did mean it. You did love him. 

“And hey,” Bucky wriggled free of your arms and took your face in his hands. He needed to make direct eye contact, needed you to know he was serious. “I know what you- I know some of what you went through over the last year. I know you have a lot to process. So, there’s no rush.”

And while it was sweet and thoughtful and kind of Bucky to say such a thing, you weren’t sure if it was true. Because there was a rush, wasn’t there? There was a time limit. A ticking clock. You couldn’t make him table his feelings for you even longer. Couldn’t make him wait. And if you did tell him to press pause, weren’t his feelings going to expire? Weren’t they going to run out? You needed to capitalize on his affections for you now before it was too late. 

But before you could lie through your teeth and tell Bucky you didn’t need to wait, he spoke.

“If you ever want to pursue things with me, I’ll be here,” he promised. “My feelings for you aren’t going anywhere. I’ve waited years for this, I can wait as long as you need.”

But that was just it. He’d waited years- making him wait any longer would be cruel, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it be unfair, especially now that he’d rescued you from your volatile relationship? 

It wasn’t that you wanted to delay a romantic relationship with Bucky. No, you wanted it now. The only issue was the heavy toll your ex took on you. You were littered with emotional wounds that were barely beginning to heal. Your anxiety was at an all-time high. And your trust issues reared their ugly heads. This wasn’t the version of you that Bucky deserved. He didn’t deserve the broken-down, mentally unwell shell of a woman that stood before him. And you owed it to yourself to rebuild.

The long silence brought on by your introspection set Bucky on edge. Maybe he really did misread the situation. Maybe you loved him but didn’t want to actually be with him. Maybe he overstepped. 

“And if you never want to pursue anything romantic with me, I’ll understand,” he said. “There won’t be any hard feelings. I’ll always be here for you, whether it’s as a friend or-”

“Shut up.”

Your lips melted against his. Your fingers weaved into his hair and pulled him close. His hands gripped you at the waist and pulled you flush against his body. Everything quieted. the noise from the city, your residual anxiety- it all faded. All that remained was Bucky. His hands, his lips, his stubble scratching against your skin. 

It was odd, getting everything you’d ever wanted. Never did you think this was possible- you didn’t even consider it. You resigned yourself to a life of unhappiness and heartache and longing. You assumed you’d die without ever truly knowing what true love felt like. But you felt it now; it felt like Bucky. 

No part of you wanted to pull away, but you had to. You had to set the record straight. Suddenly, your lips vanished from Bucky’s. He instantly frowned. 

“You didn’t seriously think that I was gonna tell you I’m in love with you and then not pursue a relationship with you, did you?” You threw a dramatic scoff his way, “Are you crazy?” 

“Hey, I don’t know!” Bucky laughed. “I guess what I meant is… I understand. And I just wanted you to know that there’s no pressure. I don’t ever want you to be uncomfortable.”

Once again, your lips found Bucky’s. This was his preferred way of existing now. Any moment spent without your lips on his seemed like a waste.

“I just need some time,” you said, breaking the kiss again. “I promise it won’t be long- I swear. I want to be with you more than anything. I just have some stuff to work through first.”

Bucky ran a hand over your hair. Your shoulder. Your forearm. Finally, he laced his fingers with yours like he had a million times before. But it felt different now. More permanent.

“Of course, sweetheart. You take as long as you need. I’m not worried about the time.”

An exaggerated grimace pulled at your features, and a joking air spilled into your speech. “Oh, good. Cause if I’m remembering correctly, Sam’s birthday party was September twenty-fourth of last year. And today is September twenty-ninth. So, I made you miss the one-year mark by five days, which means he’s not gonna pay up.”

Bucky’s laugh boomed through the small apartment. It bounced off every all, surrounding you with your favorite sound. 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Bucky finally said when he caught his breath. “But I’m not worried about it.” His bright smile and joking tone fell away, stripping his words bare. He grew gravely serious. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he said. The authenticity almost scared you. “I’m so happy to have you back where you belong.”

He enveloped you in a long, deep kiss that stole your breath. Only two days ago, you were a rain-soaked, broken-hearted mess. The world was bleak. Cold. Empty. You swore you didn’t see the sun the entire time you were with Alex. But now, the warmth of Bucky’s kindness and warmth perfused everything with bright, vibrant colors. The storm clouds finally parted, revealing the most beautiful, golden daylight. 

And after everything, Bucky was finally yours. 

But he always was. 

Everything you’d been through, all the pain and suffering and misery, brought you to this moment. And you couldn’t think of anything that could ever pull your attention from the way Bucky’s lips felt against hers. 

But something stole your focus.

A strange sound came from your phone- you swore it sound like a ‘cha-ching’. The two of you parted for a moment, allowing you to investigate. 

“Was that- I think that was a Venmo notification…” you said. “But I didn’t-” You pulled your phone from your back pocket and glanced at your screen, only to find the one name you never wanted to see again. Alongside that name, though, was a number- a large number.

“Alex just sent me three thousand dollars.” You narrowed your eyes at Bucky, “Did you do this?”

Bucky’s head fell back in a devious, almost maniacal laugh. “Baby, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @onewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @purpleshallot @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

(I don't know what the fuck is going on with my tags, they dont work apparently)

[spaghettioverdose]

I've never really talked on here about how I figured out my gender, and since this whole egg discourse is going on, I feel like I should.

I'm not one of the trans women who figured out their genders at age 4 and became fully confident of it. Up until around 16 I didn't even begin to consider that I may not be a cis guy and it took me up until almost 19 to fully realise I was a trans woman. Before this, at 18, after feeling particularly shitty for weeks (from what I later learned was definitely dysphoria), I attempted suicide.

I only really started to understand myself once I started hanging out with other trans people on discord servers. My perception of transness was the more mainstream-accepted version (at that time) of "I always confidently knew I was a woman basically from birth and I exhibited x, y and z feminine behaviours at all times etc." which I didn't fit in with, so I always thought "well I can't be a trans woman because that's not me". Being around other trans people, and especially having other trans women point out behaviours I had, and tell me "that's also how I thought before I realised I was trans" helped me immensely.

I didn't get any of the rigid online definitions and examples, nor did I get the perfectly sanitised videos from the handful of trans people who made it on youtube. None of that felt like me at the time. I didn't have any point of reference. I only really understood myself once I related to someone who used to be in the same position. If some trans girl didn't call me an egg, I might still be a completely miserable "cis" guy to this day still, or even dead.

I understand that others have had worse experiences when it comes to this, but we must recognise that the problem in these situations is outing or harassment. The porblem is abuse, and as with all things interpersonal, you can always turn it into abuse. As with all things interpersonal, you have to have some amount of tact and caution.

I don't think we should harass anyone into getting their egg cracked (and this happens vastly less often than people here seem to think but it does happen), but also we shouldn't be constantly agnostic about if someone is trans or not, because in the end not everyone is capable of coming to that conclusion by themselves, and by the time you've "let them figure it out" they might've spent several more years being miserable and not knowing why or they might be dead.

It is also very important to point out that this discourse is only really happening because there is a particular bias against trans women. This isn't a discussion of how to approach the subject, or a handful of people talking about their experiences with it, it's a discourse where one side is trying to problematize another aspect of the transfem community. Notice that people are arguing this when it comes to transfems and not cis gay people or even transmascs. Notice that this website always cycles back to attacking some aspect of the transfem community every couple of weeks.

Do you really think these arguments are being made in good faith? Do you really think it's worth adding to the sea of transmisogyny that is this website and most of the world?

As always, this post is meant for people who are genuinely well-meaning. The dipshits who keep jumping on any excuse they can to harass trans women can go fuck themselves.

[hatekawa]

Your art is so good and I really like your style! I was wondering, how do you draw backgrounds so well?

You probably mean that one background in the most recent part of the 3 months au comic which the making of was quite of a journey so im gonna explain it step by step

step 1. Pretend that you know what you're doing and practice (for example this background that I drew over a year ago for RinRee's comic "Broken Bonds" (the characters were drawn by her)), gain some experience

step 2. Get a minecraft reference (if you suck at perspective like me)

step 3. fail miserably

step 4. get more references

step 5. figure out what you did wrong, study (for ex. your references), practice some more (i cant show because my practice were other backgrounds for the 3 months au comic)

in my case what i did wrong was lack of warm up (the last time i drew an actual background was few months ago which is WAY TOO LONG), making it not look like an actual train and in general making the room look too organized and empty. Mikey is a chaotic and artistic soul so it's obvious that he'd have a mess in his room (it's important to think about what a character would have in their room, ex. art supplies, sticky notes/stickers, junk, posters etc)

step 6. try again

BONUS: I genuinely enjoy making backgrounds, so it's easier for me to stay patient and pay the attention to them that they need! :]

[catboybiologist]

About to fall asleep ramble time, this has been kicking around in my brain for a bit and I need to get some form of this thought out

I was diagnosed with ADHD and gender dysphoria one day after the other back in August. Extremely stereotypically zillenial of me, I know. Handling both of these has dramatically improved my quality of life. yes yes insert discourse about how much you need to have dysphoria as a diagnosis, it's just a tool for the medical system that's ultimately meaningless, that's not what this is about.

There's one thing that was really, really weird about the experience of getting care for both of these.

Most treatment and public talk of transition and motivations to transition are about misery. How much despair your birth sex gives you and how gender affirming care is the only stopgap against suicide (oftentimes, used as a barrier to entry that it should only be given when it's at the suicidal point). How crushing dysphoria is.

In contrast, most of the public perception of ADHD is this cutesy, "omg look I'm so quirky" kind of thing. People talk of ADHD "superpowers" and how neat it is to have hyperfixations (I'm low key starting to dislike that word, even though it's an accurate description of many things- it's very overused).

My actual experience has been almost exactly the opposite.

I absolutely had gender dysphoria, and still do, and misery associated with being AMAB. But is that what defines my trans experience? No, and in fact, it feels like a more incidental blip in it. My trans experience has mostly been defined by joy, by feeling my mind and body slowly make me more and more content with my default existence day after day. And the exploration of it all! The social roles, the romantic dynamics, the friendship dynamics, even small aesthetics like clothes and makeup, and again, the body and mood changes. It's incredible and it brings me joy so much of the time. That, more than anything, has defined my trans experience.

In contrast.... ADHD has objectively made nearly every aspect of my life more miserable. Working with my therapist and my pysch, as well as feeling what it's like to be properly medicated, have shown me extremely well how much the constant feelings of misery I always seemed to have were caused by ADHD. ADHD means being unable to receive a baseline level of dopamine to function under normal circumstances, so your brain starts looking for any way it can get new sources. And wouldn't ya know it, novel stimuli are a perfect way to do that. Keep in mind that dopamine isn't just "the pleasure molecule" it's a neurotransmitter with a broad range of functions. If you don't have ADHD, or even if you do, I want you to think about how miserable of an existence that is. Your default state is depression and inability to do things. It has been for me for most of my life. Additionally, anxieties creep into your head and distract you far more easily. You're less functional. You can't do simple things most of the time. You're distracted and have anxiety spikes easily. Continuous tasks are hard. And day in, day out... You are miserable. Almost constantly.

Oh also, you're easily addicted to extreme novel stimuli. For me, it was self harm. And when that stopped working... Well, I was in a state of mostly background depression that was only punctuated by spikes of massive, overwhelming anxiety that my brain hooked itself on. At a certain point, I just wanted it to end, by any means necessary.

It's been almost ten years since that day, and at this point I can genuinely say that I'm glad I'm still here.

But it wasn't dysphoria that did that (it contributed a bit, but still wasn't the biggest factor). Or a depressive disorder. Or bipolar. Or whatever the big, more "scary" mental illnesses or neurodivergencies are. They tried to treat me for some of them, and it ended horribly. My symptoms fit mixed presentation ADHD perfectly, including my physiological response to stimulants. They don't fit anything else. I likely don't have any strong comorbidities, unless you count the symptom-level anxiety and depression. ADHD did all of that to me. The "cute and quirky" one.

By the time I got around to a diagnosis, my pysch was astounded that I made it as far as I did with symptoms as severe as mine. Tackling ADHD has removed so much misery from my life, it's indescribable. Adderall has been the only thing that has ever actually gotten rid of my constant anxiety.

It's not fucking cute. Keeping with this being the flip side to my dysphoria, I do try to keep it light most of the time, and I join in on all of the classic "whoopsie doopsie my ADHD" trains and jokes. You don't have to stop making those, hell, they're fun. There are cute and funny parts to having ADHD, and ways it's made my personality what it is. But don't forget that this is also something that makes people genuinely suffer well beyond the "oopsie I'm such a procrastinator!!!" Type thing.

Idk where this thought is going. It's just kind of an observation that's been kicking around in my head for a bit. So uh. Hope it at least generates discussion? Feel free to add your experiences if you think it'll help you. But fuck I need to sleep lol

[anistarrose]

The thing about the Heart Attack segment in Wonderland is that they put so much aromantic subtext in it. They accidentally put SO much aromantic subtext in it, on behalf of multiple characters, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Let me tell you all about it.

Magnus is dropped into a dating game and literally leads with "I cannot stress enough how uninterested I am in this." Now, it's perfectly valid to read this as due to him waiting for Julia, or just him being plain old uncomfortable with having his love life put in the spotlight. However! I cannot stress enough the exchange that happens just a minute or two after that line:

Magnus (describing his ideal date): ... and we don't see each other again, ‘cause I'm really not interested in dating. Audience: [exaggerated] Oooooh! (cheers) Griffin: The silhouette is like, fanning itself. Lydia: Playing hard to get, huh? It seems like our contestant is into that.

And I just have to say: unfortunately, this is one of the most aromantic fucking experiences I've seen represented in fiction in my life. I mean — saying you're not interested in romance, then having those words twisted on you, like they're some secret coded way of saying that you are interested in romance? Not having a single way to express your disinterest that'll actually be believed? That's some aro shit right there. God. Fuck.

As an aside, it's enough to really tell that Heart Attack is not designed to be a reprieve from the pain, even though it's the "good outcome" of Trust or Forsake. It's designed to be uncomfortable. To funnel suffering to Edward and Lydia, just like all the other games do. (More on that later, in fact.) But in summary:

Magnus is a character who can be read as uncomfortable with romance for either aro-spec reasons or unrelated reasons. But in either case, his discomfort attracts reactions that reek of amatonormativity — and therefore, resonate with aromantic experiences. (Psst, I did recently write a gray-aro Magnus fic!)

Two more analyses below the cut (and only one of them is for another Horny Boy):

Obviously the next character I need to talk about is Merle. I've found aroallo readings of his character to be compelling for a long time (having sex with plants so you don't have to worry about romantic commitment, am I right?), but the way he describes his "ideal date" is another factor:

Merle: I volunteer to drive her vehicle, and tell her it's filthy, and so we go through the uh- drive through vehicle wash and she pays for that too. Um, and then I take her to have dinner with my family, and- Magnus: Wait, like your wife and stuff? Merle: She meets my ex-wife.

Merle's probably exaggerating as a joke, continuing on about both him and his partner being miserable, but I think the fact that Merle's mind goes here is genuinely drawing from a lot of poor romantic experiences in the past. He didn't get a choice about being on Heart Attack, and his marriage with Hecuba was similarly "arranged".

It's also worth noting that at this point in time, Merle is putting in the work to be part of Mavis and Mookie's lives again, but is not interested in doing the same for Hecuba — he instead just asks Mavis how Hecuba's doing. That said, given that Magnus is the one to put the focus on Merle's ex-wife, I think it's fair to read the "family" comment as Merle actually expressing that he'd rather spend time with his kids than give any special romantic attention to his date. Moving on to the rest of the "joke":

Merle: She's having a miserable time and she's really mad, she can't wait to get outta there. I take her back to her house, and so I lean up against the door jam and say, 'Sure you don't want me to come in for a few minutes?' and she slams the door in my face.

It's possible Merle just has a more roundabout, self-deprecating way of expressing a similar thing to what Magnus did: Merle just isn't interested in dating. To me, the last line implies he might not say no to sex, if offered — but overall, it reads as if Merle is putting minimal effort in because he's looking for an excuse to get out of this relationship anyway.

It's also possible that Merle's "rejection" of a suitor being so disguised as humor could point to him still coming to terms with his disinterest in dating. Particularly, in comparison to Magnus, who is so vocal and unashamed about it, while Merle might still be figuring this all out.

(Honestly, the self-deprecation Merle turns to here is actually kind of sad, when viewed in that light — he already lets himself be the butt of jokes so often, and now he feels like the way romance doesn't click for him has to be a joke, too? Oof. Someone give him a hug and tell him he's not broken this instant!) But regardless:

Merle views dates, and perhaps romance in general, as things that will inevitably turn disastrous for him and any party involved with him, and he would rather spend time with his children than repairing a relationship with an ex, or cultivating a relationship with a new partner. This is not an experience exclusive to the aro-spec umbrella, but you can't say that an aromantic reading of his character doesn't fit him like a gardening glove...

...which he wears while fucking his plants. Because plants don't demand emotional intimacy, nor take too much time away from the platonic relationships that matter more to him. And you know what? He's fucking valid for that! Fly your flag, nasty grandpa!

But moving on: I promised you aromantic analysis of characters outside of our protagonists, and henceforth, that analysis I will provide. And not just because I admittedly see Taako as the token alloromantic (though clearly an aro ally; if he hadn't chosen Forsake we wouldn't have gotten all this incredible characterization!)

I digress. So let's go on to addressing the lich twins in the room: Edward and Lydia.

Remember my argument earlier that Heart Attack serves the purpose of collecting suffering just like the rest of Wonderland does? How it's just a subtler way of making Wonderland's victims fundamentally uncomfortable?

...Using, of all things, romance?

How the vogue twins, for whatever reason, felt inspired to make people uncomfortable with matchmaking and adoration? How, some way or another, they noticed how much potential romance had to induce suffering? Being pressured into a relationship, being told that no matter how firmly you say you're uninterested, you're not really uninterested?

...Relatedly, I have always gotten the sense that Edward and Lydia projected relentlessly onto their victims.

Edward: This resolve, this desire to do whatever it takes no matter the cost to save yourselves — do you know who you three remind me of? Magnus: No? Merle: Who? Edward: Us!

I'm even going to go a step further and say that on top of projection, they want their victims to go through things they went through. Swallowing the guilt of having fucked someone else over to survive, of course — that's basically self-admitted. But possibly also... the feeling of not being able to get back what you lost (Keats). The feeling of not being able to heal (Keats).

So, where does that leave Heart Attack?

Lydia: It was the three of us, surviving against all odds. The world against us.

Their family of three was (is) indescribably important to them. I'm not necessarily saying that societal expectations of romance, especially of romance as a priority above that of family, left a bad taste in their mouths — if not downright contributing to their trauma — but, okay, I wrote the rest of this post and now that I'm back, I can no longer deny it. I'm definitely, absolutely saying that.

At the time of the podcast, we know Edward and Lydia's own relationship is heavily strained. Until the end, they are lying to themselves and to each other about the fact that they continue to be emotionally and magically reliant on each other. After all, Lydia wouldn't say "I guess we really needed each other after all" in her dying moments with such surprise otherwise.

This is the second reason that I... well, I wouldn't quite call it a "theory," but I find it most impactful to read Edward and Lydia as characters for whom the concept of Love has baggage. And always has, from their origins as youth in a tough spot in an already amatonormative world.

Maybe the constant societal devaluing of platonic, familial bonds left them with serious emotional scars. Maybe the constant conflation of Love and morality just weighed on them and weighed on them and weighed on them until they decided: well, we don't love the way people expect us to, so we might as well give up on being the good people they expect us to be. We might as well embrace this new fuel of suffering.

...And you know, I hope this gets across what I mean when I always say I headcanon villains as aromantic to make them more sympathetic.

Edward and Lydia, textually, are already tragic villains. As twins and liches, they're also textually foil characters to several of the Seven Birds. But I also like to think that they have a lot in common with Magnus and Merle, and the possibility that tugs at my heartstrings the most is the possibility of them all falling under the aromantic umbrella.

[stormblessed95]

Watching Are You Sure?! EP 6

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally they happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

Flying to Japan on Nov 25, 2023!

Jikook being the rich bitches that they are now, do you think they had the whole plane just for them and their staff? The way they BOTH got to enjoy the window seats and the whole row to themselves for most of the trip. Genuinely wish I could fly that way 😂 it has to make that experience a little less miserable lol

Jungkooks super informal tone, the soft way he spoke, the way he placed his hand over Jimin's nape.... Topped off with talking about how their first ever trip together was to Japan, Tokyo. And that's why he wanted to come back. Excuse me 😭 the romantic in you is escaping!

JK panning down with his camera and us getting to see Jimin gripping his sweater over his tummy. Such a consistent habit! Both of them! JK randomly panning to film Jimin, and Jimin holding onto JK. They are so sweet and cute. It's giving boyfriend. I can't lie lol

"We have arrived" they say, while in a moving car, and I'm pretty sure Jimin has to be in JKs lap to film the way they are. Or at least BASICALLY all the way in it. Lol and JKs smug ass little smirk and pouty lips. Bro, chill 😅😂

The zoom in on Jimins eyes randomly. Another habit consistently consistent!

JK saying yes of course he knew Jimin's album was coming out soon and yes of course he watched the SGMB video. He stays up to date on all Jimin content thank you very much

Not the kids making Jimin feel old by calling him Uncle 😂😂

Jikook hanging out drinking and eating snacks and just chit chatting so normal and regular that Jimin just completely forgets they are filming a show for a brief second there, walking away without his camera. There is something so endearing about that

Not them showing us JK falling on the ice from both Jimin and JKs camera perspectives 😂😂

JK being super whiny and bratty and Jimin going "why are you so angry these days?" With a laugh and JK going "it's for the show" basically to be more entertaining. Lol and Jimin just saying that he can handle all his anger. Handle all of JK. "I can handle you" is what it's giving. And it's giving so so much. Just wow

They way they reminisced about their first Tokyo trip while eating their midnight snack 🥰 Jimin remembered so many details. JK just remembered being worried about Jimin's feet hurting during their long walk to Shibuya.

JK sharing how special it was for him to get a short letter from RM when he did his showcase. That was so cute!!

Them arguing over the AC with one being hot and the other cold was so relatable for me. It was like watching me and my partner 😂

They went to sleep in separate beds and woke up in front of cameras in separate beds, but you can't convince me that JK didn't end up in Jimins bed for at least part of the night. Lol his sheets are still tucked in all nicely (Jimin's aren't and JK doesn't sleep that neat from what we have seen lol) and his water bottle is moved over to Jimin's side of the nightstand too. But what do I know 🤷‍♀️😂

Has there been an episode where Jikook haven't brushed their teeth together? Lol

JK being all romantic about remember this moment of watching the snow fall together in the morning. And Jimin popping the bubble by saying they'll have to shovel so much snow in the military 😂😂

JK going I want to cut my hair and Jimin immediately coming over to crack jokes with wordplay 😂

JK just turning to stare at Jimin wanting his compliments over the glasses he picked out to wear. Lol and Jimin immediately giving him said compliment. It was absolutely giving domestic couple vibes. Can't lie won't lie

Bathroom selcas!!

JK wearing a napkin under his glasses because his nose was sweating because of the spice 🤣

The vibes and tones they have when speaking about their service is so drastically different when compared to in the USA. They are about to enter into service together and they have no more doubts or fear of being separated and you can tell in how they talk about it now versus then.

The editors making fun of Jikook ordering in Japanese lmfao "using all the words they know"

The reappearance of "KooKoo-San" 😭😭🥰😍

I love the animated train station 🤣🤣

Jikook sharing air pods and music on the train and roleplaying saying it feels like they are in an anime. They said they were listening to a Japanese song and Jimin was getting really into when he started this role play. Lol what song was it?!!?

Jimin pulled a JK and went from filming scenery to randomly switching his camera view to film Jungkook close up too.

JK snuggling up on Jimin as they watch the scenery go by on the train is the cutest fucking thing. JK was living the dream. You can tell they were so content and happy.

Finally arriving in Sapporo and walking through the train station seeing an adorable little girl and Jimin getting all sappy about how he would be an emotional mess as a girl dad if he ever had a daughter. JK looked both nervous and excited about that idea 🤣🥰💜

Jimin saying JKs live vocals on Hate You were so good that he threw his phone. So relatable. The biggest fanboy!

Jikook singing Super Tuna!! So cute!!

Jimin saying he has to be the most normal on a team of weirdos and JK being like nah babe, you are a total weirdo freak just like the rest of us! (Personally, I think to make it as an idol, you can't be normal, you gotta have a little bit of freak going on to be able to handle all of that lol) But yes Jungkook! Speak that truth! "Who sets the standard for 'normal' anyway?" EXACTLY!!!

Not Jimin pulling up Christmas Day by Jikook circa 2014 to listen to on their snowy drive in Sapporo Japan?! The sentimentality and romance in the air that has to be happening?! Lol even with their younger voices 🤣 the cringe over hearing his 19 year old voice say merry Christmas 🤣😂😂

Impromptu self photoshoot in the snow!

The way they giggle together is one of my favorite things. Over anything and everything

Jikook roleplaying at the museum bar lol that was inherently flirty. So flirty. What the heck. That was first time meeting at a bar with cheesy pick up lines roleplay. That's like kinky foreplay for some people 😂😂 JK getting all flustered over it too and ending it with the "you're ridiculous" lol

JK this thing is cute, Jimin buy it then. Ah, rich people 😅😂

Their embarrassed faces when the staff told them as they were walking away that they didn't pay for their drinks 😂😂😂 Jimin running up to go pay but with JKs black card! Lol not even his own! But that's before they said Cash only, so JK comes to pay for it in cash lol I too, would've felt very embarrassed over forgetting to pay 😂

Jimin galloping through the snow. Lmao he is such a little weirdo 🤣😂 love him so much

Their cute little snowball fight with JK picking up just massive clumps of snow to throw lol

Not them calling ARMY out for just enjoying watching them just sit around and eat. They know we are down bad lol

What kind of carrots is Jimin eating that they are bitter??! 😂

Jikook constantly memeing together too lmao!

Them saying they would've been such trouble together as same age friends. They already don't have a normal hyung/dongsaeng relationship at all. Can you imagine if those lines that they already pretend don't exist actually never existed at all? Already attached at the hip. If vminkook were ALL same age friends, they would be even crazier together I bet! Lol

Jimin once again talking about the dumpling fight. The way he was actually ready to beat Tae up during that is still so crazy to me 😂😂 the way he Knows they (Vmin) were both being petty AF back then and they can laugh now.

Lmfao not them talking about JK kissing RM for his birthday and RM telling him he went too far and crossing the line. They wore him down to accepting their kisses eventually. Birthday kisses must've turned into tradition since then for Joonie 😂😂

They've come so so far. I'm so proud of all my members. I too can't wait to see the 7 back together again!

Shall we head to the hot springs?? Can't wait!

Wrap Up Thoughts:

Please ignore any and all typos in this post. My brain is so fried and I'm so sleepy. Lol

Anyone else notice they spent almost this entire episode in matching and/or coordinated outfits? Yeah, me too! How very adorable of them. It's so obvious and clear in this episode than it has been in any other. The thing I noticed most about their dynamics in this episode was the consistency in all their little sweet and cute habits together. Things they've done around each other for years and years. And they are still doing it!

JK spent the entire episode randomly filming Jimin. And he said "I love it" or "I'm so happy" over 30 times in just the one episode. Traveling with Jimin and just chilling together brings him so much joy. Everyone should rejoice in that. And Jimin spent the entire episode randomly bursting out into song, but specifically SNTY 🥰 the support!

And the way JK was filming Jimin, it's still that consistency man.

I said most of my "analysis" moments in all that stuff above, I don't really feel the need to repeat myself but if someone wants or needs clarification on my thoughts, please ask/let me know! This was a beautiful and very sweet episode. They were just purely enjoying each other's company! They were so happy together. Good food, good beer, good company, beautiful atmosphere. I'm so happy for them. And it reeks of domestic bliss so often in this episode too. Lol love that for them as well!

If anyone in Brazil wants to know what video from Twitter is under any of my purple links, please let me know which one and I'll try and download and post that specific video for you. Just send an ask. Sorry for the inconvenience!

[wrishwrosh]

hey, i find your posts about historical fiction pretty interesting, do you have any recs?

anon this is the most beautiful and validating ask i have ever received. absolutely of COURSE I have recs. not gonna be a lot of deep cuts on this list but i love all of these books and occasionally books do receive awards and acclaim because they are good. in no particular order:

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. of course i gotta start with the og. it’s 40 million pages on the tudor court and the english reformation and it will fundamentally change you as a person and a reader

(sub rec: the giant, o’brien by hilary mantel. in many ways a much shorter thematic companion to the cromwell trilogy imo. about stories and death and embodiment and the historical record and 18th century ireland. if you loved the trilogy, read this to experience hils playing with her own theories about historical fiction. if you are intimidated by the trilogy, read this first to get a taste of her prose style and her approach to the genre. either way please read all four novels ok thanks)

lincoln in the bardo by george saunders. the book that got me back into historical fiction as an adult. american history as narrated by a bunch of weird ghosts and abraham lincoln. chaotic and lovely and morbid.

the everlasting by katy simpson smith. rome through the ages as seen by a medici princess, a gay death-obsessed monk, and an early christian martyr. really historically grounded writing about religion and power, and also narrated with interjections from god’s ex boyfriend satan. smith is a trained historian and her prose slaps

(sub rec: free men by katy simpson smith. only a sub rec bc i read it a long time ago and my memory of it is imperfect but i loved it in 2017ish. about three men in the woods in the post revolutionary american south and by virtue of being about masculinity is actually about women. smith did her phd in antebellum southern femininity and motherhood iirc so this book is LOCKED IN to those perspectives)

a mercy by toni morrison. explores the dissolution of a household in 17th century new york. very different place and time than a lot of morrison’s bigger novels but just as mean and beautiful

(sub rec: beloved by toni morrison. a sub rec bc im pretty sure everyone has already read beloved but perhaps consider reading it again? histfic ghost story abt how the past is always here and will never go away and loves you and hates you and is trying to kill you)

an artist of the floating world by kazuo ishiguro. my bestie sir kazuo likes to explore the past through characters who, for one reason or another (amnesia, dementia, being a little baby robot who was just born yesterday, etc), are unable to fully comprehend their surroundings. this one is about post-wwii japan as understood by an elderly supporter of the imperial regime

(sub rec: remains of the day by kazuo ishiguro. same conceit as above except this time the elderly collaborator is incapable of reckoning with the slow collapse of the system that sheltered him due to britishness.)

the pull of the stars by emma donoghue. donoghue is a strong researcher and all of her novels are super grounded in their place and time without getting so caught up in it they turn into textbooks. i picked this one bc it is a wwi lesbian love story about childbirth that made me cry so hard i almost threw up on a plane but i recommend all her histfic published after 2010. before that she was still finding her stride.

days without end by sebastian barry. this one is hard to read and to rec bc it is about the us army’s policy of genocide against native americans in the 19th century west as told by an irish cavalry soldier. it is grim and violent and miserable and also so beautiful it makes me cry about every three pages. first time i read it i was genuinely inconsolable for two days afterwards.

this post is long as hell so HONORABLE MENTIONS: the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay by michael chabon, the western wind by samantha harvey, golden hill by frances spufford, barkskins by annie proulx, postcards by annie proulx, most things annie proulx has written but i feel like i talk about her too much, the view from castle rock by alice munro, the name of the rose by umberto eco, tracks by louise erdrich

[bvidzsoo]

Panic Switch

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warnings: light swearing here and there, awful parenting, the use of ‘sociopath’

 Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x female reader

 Word count: 13,647

 Summary:  You descend from a famous and ancient bloodline of empaths. Since the moment you were born, your mother knew you were different than them and that you would wreak havoc. And she was right in a sense. You didn’t feel emotions like others and, thus, your judgement wasn’t always the best. You grew up being called a freak by your own family, who were afraid of you and kept their distance, never showering you with love. And then, at the age of eight, you met Xavier, who was different, considered a freak too by humans...he seemed to be a little bit like you. This quickly lead to a long lasting friendship, but was it always genuine? Or would Nevermore change everything for the two of you? Were you ready to unveil your secrets to Xavier and those around you? 

 A/N:  Ohmygod! It feels amazing to be inspired again and to be able to write. Thank you Xavier Thorpe for your existence, you brought back the artist in me, hahaha. Share your thoughts with me, I love feedback, don’t be shy! I use the term ‘sociopath’ a lot and despite doing research, I might have gotten it a tiny bit wrong. But...don’t take my head off for that, this is a work of fiction after all. I might be a little bit crusty, it’s been a while since I wrote, but damn, does it feel good! I hope you enjoy this little story! Happy reading!

                        Nevermore Academy, a place for all the misfits, or what I like to call ourselves, freaks. This school is the only place where I don’t feel out of place or left out of things. Why would I say that? Because even to my family, I am a freak. I’m different than them, and they are scared of me. I am the black sheep of the family; somebody they refuse to speak of if asked. I’m half convinced I was sent to this academy because my parents feared what I would do at a regular school. After all, following my mother, I am the first one to attend Nevermore. I have four siblings, and all of them go to regular, normal, schools in our hometown. Our abilities aren’t something obvious as we aren’t prone to kill or turn into nightmarish monsters, so, we were deemed safe to society. Well…everyone, but me. We are, what one could call, an empath. Our abilities consist of recognizing others emotions and controlling them to a certain extent. When I talk about my family, they can only feel one’s emotions when they touch them and they can only induce calmness or happiness; their manipulating techniques are restricted. But when it comes to me…imagine it like this: there are mind readers, whom are able to constantly read one’s mind, and then there I am. I am able to constantly feel the emotions of those around me. I don’t have to touch them; all I have to do is be in their vicinity and connect to their frequency. If I’m accustomed to said person, it just comes naturally to me, without having to do anything. So that means: we intersect ways twice and from then on, I’ll always know what you’re feeling. And when it comes to manipulating one’s emotions, I can induce whatever feeling I’d like to. I’m not restricted like the rest of my family is, another thing which freaks them out. Over many generations, there hasn’t been someone like me in the family. And I truly think they would’ve accepted me the way I am, if I wasn’t a sociopath. Now, that is the part which freaks them out the most. The lack of emotions I experience and the lack of empathy I feel for others, which is quite ironic, isn’t it? And to top my day, it’s Parent’s Day. The day when our families come and visit us at Nevermore.

Everyone around me was feeling excited, the emotion so intense it was almost making me nauseous. Well, everyone except Xavier, who was feeling quite miserable and yearning, as he looked at Ajax and his family, who were hugging him and talking to him animatedly. Xavier’s father wasn’t coming this year either, and as much as Xavier would say he didn’t care, you didn’t have to be an empath to see how much his absence affected him. This boy almost always felt miserable and perhaps that is why I liked to stay around him, it wasn’t a cheesy feeling and it gave me comfort. Anything negative felt better than something very positive; if my parents were to hear that, they’d probably faint on the spot, especially my mother. I glanced at Xavier, who was leaning his weight on one leg than the other one, and sighed.

“Stop fidgeting,” I snapped at him, and gripped his arm as his hands were shoved into his pockets, “You’re making me nervous.” A lie, I can’t feel anything like it.

“Sorry,” Xavier cleared his throat as his deep forest green eyes found mine, “It just makes me anxious…seeing everyone’s families. My dad said he’d come, but…I don’t know, Y/N.”

“He probably won’t come.” I deadpanned and I felt disappointment seep through Xavier, truth was always better than lying. And I knew he hated people who lied to him, especially me. Someone who he considered a friend. Still holding his arm, I offered him a smile; one which was robotic, I had learned it a long time ago, and took a lot of time to perfect it so that it would look genuine; I felt a shockwave run through my body. I always felt that when I used my abilities, and as Xavier and I gazed into each other’s eyes, I felt him slowly calming down, my power influencing him. And what was fun in it all, was that they never knew when I used my powers on them. They always thought it was them doing it, but it was always me.

“No use wasting energy on him, right?” Xavier’s smile was half assed, until I felt a strong wave of happiness wash through him. I didn’t need to see the cause of it, I was used to my family’s auras and the feel of their emotions. Xavier saw them, that’s why he got so happy suddenly. I released my grip on his arm and turned my head forward, sighing quietly to myself. My parents were smiling sweetly at everyone who greeted them, they were quite famous therapists, and my siblings, who were walking after them very disciplined, were greeting people politely. One would say my family looked very fake at that moment, but they were actually genuine. They were always happy for the people around them and it was sickening. To me at least.

“Eliza!” Xavier exclaimed as he ran up to my mother and father, who were like his parents as well; we grew up together, “Brad!”

Mom and dad engulfed Xavier into a hug and greeted him with huge smiles, asking him how he was. Sighing again, loudly, I slowly approached them, plastering my generic smile onto my lips.

“Hello,” I spoke up, earning my family’s attention, “and welcome. How was your trip?”

My father smiled at me and was the first one to pull me into a hug, he genuinely missed me. However, my mother kept her distance and plastered on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t feeling disgust at the sight of me, just…disappointment, how lovely. Not that it was anything new to me.

“Long and tiring, but we got here in time.” It was my mother who answered me and my siblings stepped forward, to greet me. Kevin, the eldest of us, rarely spoke to me. For some reason, he was the most afraid of me and his cowardly amused me. Gemma, who was considered the middle child despite me being it, and was always on her phone, greeted me with a nod and then looked away, far more interested in the academy than me. She was jealous that I got to go here, while she had to go to that mundane, boring, high school. Alec, the youngest of us, ran up to me and tackled me in a hug. The top of his head barely reached my abdomen, he was still growing. Since the moment of his birth he seemed to love me the most. My parents feared he’d turn out to be another sociopath, but I knew he wouldn’t. What they didn’t know, was that he was the most empathetic out of them all, and that he felt pity towards me for the treatment I got from the rest of the family. Oh, and he kind of happened to really love me, for some unknown reason to me. Jason, who was just a year older than me, looked at me with a smug expression and chuckled. But deep inside he was just as scared as the rest of my family, and the funniest thing was, that he could never hide it from me.

“What a freaky place—” He sniffed loudly and glanced at Xavier, Jason never liked him, “Perfect for freaks like you.”

For an empath, Jason was an asshole. Xavier went to say something, but my mother quickly reprimanded Jason, only because he dared to insult Xavier as well. Her precious little boy, I know she secretly wished to have him as her son. She would’ve given me away at any time while I was growing up.

“Careful, Jason,” I let a wide, psychotic, smile spread onto my lips, “We might just devour you in a dark corner.”

Alec, despite the morbidity of my words started giggling, and my mother’s glare could’ve killed me on the spot. My father just sighed and with his eyes asked me to stop the attitude or a fight would follow, and mom would hate that. She hated her perfect little image tainted. Everything had to be perfect, and maybe that’s why she disliked me so much.

“Why don’t you show us around, sweetheart?” My father’s smile was kind as he gripped Jason’s shoulder and pulled him into his side, giving his shoulder a subtle squeeze. My mother went and crossed her arm with Xavier’s, not waiting for me as she started walking ahead of us. I rolled my eyes and held Alec’s hand as he quietly asked me to do so.

“I’ll stay here, my legs will later hurt if I walk around too much.” Gemma whined and before anyone could answer her, she took off towards a bench. Nobody minded her, she was always allowed to do whatever, spoiled brat. Fear was oozing out of Kevin and I let my eyes fall on him as the others took off, leaving us behind. Despite my dad asking me to show them around, my mother decided she’d do it herself. Not that I was surprised.

“Kevin, please” I sighed as my nose scrunched up when he jumped at the sound of my voice, “if you’re so scared, just go sit in the car or something.”

“Mom asked me not to make a scene.” He said while he scratched the back of his neck, “You know how she gets—”

“When things don’t go her way?” I scoffed and looked down at Alec, who giggled again, this little one loved to cause mischief and I might prefer him more over the rest of my siblings, “Go sit in the car, I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

A huge sigh of relief left Kevin’s lips and he showed me a small smile, suddenly his emotions changed and he was feeling grateful but incredulous at the same time, “Thank you, really, Y/N!”

For someone who was twenty-five years old, he really should’ve stopped fearing our mother a long time ago, “I’m not doing this out of kindness, I just hate the wrenched smell of the fear you’re oozing. It stinks, Kevin.”

Once these words, which some would consider harsh and hurtful just like Kevin, left my lips, disappointment seeped through him and he just turned around and walked off, sulking. I rolled my eyes before Alec and I started walking, trying to catch up with the rest of our family and Xavier.

I felt a light tug on my hand and I looked down at my little brother again, “You can actually smell the emotions we feel?!”

His exclamation and amazement amused me, I chuckled, but before I could answer him, he had more to ask, “What does my amazement smell like?!”

I acted as if I was thinking of it and just to amuse myself more, I sniffed the air around him, “Cotton candy.”

Alec’s mouth fell open and his amazement was replaced with excitement, “That’s so cool! I wish I could be like you, sis!”

Cotton candy was his favorite. And no, you don’t wish to be like me. I hummed as we finally spotted our family, who were just entering Ophelia Hall. I wish I was ready to spend the whole day with them, to feel like a freak once again. I hated acting nice, because it was fake, but around them I had no other choice. Unless I wanted mother to have a fit, which was always quite amusing. But not today, I promised dad I’d behave and show them the school had a good effect on me. Maybe it’s better if they don’t know about the attacks happening to students, I wouldn’t want to be taken to a normal school, Wednesday’s stories of them sounded horrible. I wouldn’t survive a day there.

            My parents knew from the very moment I was born that there was something wrong with me. As a baby, I would rarely laugh when they’d play with me and I would often enjoy hitting Jason, who was an easy target. Whenever Kevin was asked to watch us, I'd somehow lock him up somewhere, so he couldn’t see us and I’d take Jason’s toys away and either throw them at him or hit him with them. But really, these signs could’ve meant that I was just an evil kid and I’d behave better as I grew, but whenever my mother touched me, she felt nothing. I would stare at her blankly and when I’d feel the horror of the thought of her daughter being an abomination, a smile would spread onto my lips. After a while she just stopped touching me, too afraid of my emotions. Or lack of them. It was quite pathetic, really, how a mother was afraid of their own child. A little child, nonetheless. I was harmless, unless you’re asking Kevin and Jason. My father would try and calm my mother by saying that I would develop later and that maybe I was just masking my feelings to annoy them, but the desperation in him each time he’d grip my arm or shoulder to feel the emotions coursing through me, said otherwise. I was a lost cause in their eyes. I think the final straw for my mother was when I had turned five and they attempted to teach me how to control my powers and how to manipulate others, and I just told them that I already knew how to do all of that. The feeling of dread oozing from my mother surprised me, that’s why I still remember it, and it was then when I realized she saw me as a freak. Something she’d hate her whole life. My father gripped her arm and attempted to calm her down, but my mother realized what he was trying to do and started screaming at him that whatever I was, was dangerous to the people around me and that I was a monster. They couldn’t control me and that scared her.

“Daddy is shocked,” I remember I said with a little smile, “but you, mommy, you are scared. Horrified. Disgusted. Do you not like me?”

My mother’s lips quivered as I tauntingly pouted at her, she was on the verge of crying, “I thought you were supposed to love me. Like you love Kevin and Jason.”

“I can not love a monster like you—” My father gasped and his shock quickly turned into anger as his head snapped towards his wife.

“Eliza!” He exclaimed and looked at her with an expression telling her she shouldn’t have said that, “How can you say that?!”

“Look at her, Brad! Does she seem normal to you?!” My mother’s voice was raising and I continued to listen to them quietly, blinking from time to time. Disgust mixed with betrayal was what my mother was feeling and my father was just shocked, angry and disappointed.

“At least keep your thoughts to yourself, she’s just a child!” My father hissed at mom as he gave me a side glance and mom just shook her head in defiance. Before a big fight could erupt, I spoke up as if I was clueless.

“Mom doesn’t have to speak; I feel whatever she’s feeling. And they are never very nice, especially right now.” I said quietly and my parents looked at me both sharply, questioningly.

“I don’t have to touch people to feel emotions, like you all. I can just simply feel them, all the time.” I continued talking and shrugged. They remained quiet and I walked up to them, looking up with no expression on my face. My emotions were always simple, what I felt inside, was calmness. Numbness or nothing. That was my usual state of mind. When triggered enough, I would get angry or irritated, or some other negative feelings, but other than that, I was just…calm. When Alec was agitated as a toddler, he’d always come up to me and hold my hand. When he learned how to speak, he’d always tell me I felt so peaceful, like nobody else.

“What—what is happening?!” My mother stammered as I let them feel whatever I was feeling, numbness.

“This is what it feels like if you’re me,” I chimed up with a fake smile, I didn’t know if it was a moment asking for a smile or not, “and I can make you feel whatever I’d like you to feel.”

I barely finished talking, when my mother turned around and stormed out of the room, taking her horrendous emotions with her. My father sighed and asked me to stop channeling my emotions onto him. He took my hand next and walked me to my room and put me to sleep, reading a fairytale about some princess who got saved from a big monster by a blonde prince, who liked to draw in his spare time. The whole time he held my hand, despite being just five, I knew what he was doing. He wanted to see the roller-coaster of emotions any kid my age would feel during a story like that, and got nothing in exchange.

A few years went by and my relationship only worsened with my mom. She barely spoke to me and started running some harmless tests on me. Kevin was getting more and more scared of me, to the point where he’d start crying if I looked at him for a little too long. Jason would avoid being around me and would call me all kinds of disgusting names. It wasn’t like all of that bothered me, but I knew a decent human being shouldn’t have treated one of its own like that. It was basic knowledge. I was eight when one day dad walked into my room and told me to get dressed because we were going hiking. I wasn’t a big fan of long walks in nature; but nature, which felt just as neutral as I, was always a blessing. Living in a household where everyone’s emotions ran high was exhausting; and Gemma was only four years old, her emotions combined with mother’s would give me migraines on some days. So, after getting dressed, dad and I took off and walked for about an hour. He knew there were some animal attacks in the area, but we were safe. Father’s special power was creating a protective shield around him and whatever else he wanted to, his family lineage was a mix of mind controllers and empaths, they inherited some pretty cool abilities. Apparently, only Alec and I inherited the mind control abilities, but I decided to keep mine a secret, I knew mom would’ve had a heart attack if I were to tell them about that too. Alec could control one’s body to his liking, meanwhile I had the basic ability of moving things with my mind, but only if I concentrated hard enough on them. My father was a hunter as well, he’d seen many gruesome things in his life, yet he’d always feel so awful when he saw a dead animal. During one of his trips, he discovered an animal sliced in two and he knew it must’ve been the werewolves from the outskirts of the town. He wasn’t a big fan of said pack, but as long as they stayed away from my father’s hunting territory he remained civil with them. I was enjoying our walk as I ran up a smaller hill, but soon came to a halt. A lamb was torn in two and flies and other insects were devouring it. I felt my father’s disgust and sadness before I felt his hand on my shoulder, and he sighed. It was hard looking away from the scene. It was nothing like I had seen before. Murder was such a fascinating thing. I was snapped out of my thoughts as my father turned me around and we started walking back as he asked me to hold his hand. My mind was still on the dead animal I had seen, curious as to what happened to it, and how. Whatever killed it, was ruthless.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, sweetheart, it was terrifying and disgusting.” My dad said and I could feel he was sorry. I shrugged and looked up at him with big eyes.

“It’s fine, this is how nature works, right? Kill or get killed.”

My father chuckled, but I felt him shudder. For some reason, he was really calm and that was unlike him, “It feels inadequate to hear something like that coming from an eight-year-old girl.”

I shrugged and followed him wordlessly.

“Aren’t you scared? That we could end up like that too?” My father asked and I took a second to think before I shook my head.

“No, because daddy can protect us with his shield, can’t you?” I grinned at him, finding his power quite fascinating. He could’ve used that to his advantage in so many cases.

“Of course I can, and I would at any given moment,” He cleared his throat and I felt him looking at me, “Can daddy ask you a few questions?”

“Sure!”

“When was the last time you got angry or mad?”

“I don’t know.” My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember, but couldn’t.

“What about feeling sad? Your grandma died just a month ago, it was really hard on all of us.” He was right, it impacted the family harshly. Well, not me, but to them it was awful. And thus, indirectly to me as well, because they made me feel miserable with their awful feelings.

“I know, all of you were grieving and hurting, it was really bad.” I grimaced thinking back, even though sometimes they’d still feel quite depressed, “It was very overwhelming to be around you, your emotions were making me feel awful. It was very bothersome.”

“You didn’t share our emotions?”

“Other than the headaches mom would get, no.” I muttered and ducked down as we passed by a tree which’ branch was hanging really low. My father hummed as we were nearing the road.

“And happy? When did you feel happy?”

“I can’t remember.” My answer was quick and honest.

“What about love?” Suddenly the calmness disappeared and hope washed over my father, as I looked up at him. What was he hoping for? That his little daughter was suddenly cured after a walk in the woods? After seeing a poor animal sliced in two? I didn’t care. I felt nothing. It didn’t impress me or left me with trauma.

“I don’t know what love is or feels like. I physically can not feel it or experience it. Every human being has a different definition for love and they all feel it differently, so I don’t have an exact answer for you.”

My father’s eyes got a bit teary as the hope he felt was shattered by my words, “You don’t know what it feels like to love.”

“I don’t, and I never will, because I’m a monster.” Maybe it wasn’t the right time to smile, but I did as I looked at my father. And he felt disappointed, not at me, but at himself. But at least now he was convinced of what I was. An empath with no emotions of its own.

“I will teach you everything you need to know to live a seemingly normal life between humans, alright?” There was a newfound spark in my father’s eyes, so I just nodded. And quite ironically, I met Xavier Thorpe the next day as his father came to visit my parents. It was funny, how Xavier met the me, who didn’t know how to mask its true self, yet he seemed to forget the real me as we grew older and older. Maybe it was because I was a genuinely good actress. My father kept his words and taught me everything I needed to know about feelings, emotions, and how to act around people. He helped me asses a situation and react accordingly to it. He taught me how to comfort a suffering person and how to make others laugh with stupid jokes. He taught me how to have a genuine smile and what being kind and sweet to others meant. He taught me when to be sad or even mad, and what to tolerate from others and what not to. I became an excellent body language reader and knowing what people felt around me, it just turned me into a master manipulator. It was funny how everyone who didn’t know the real me loved me and wished to be around me, yet all my family wished to do was run as far away as possible if they happened to come near me. 

            The day was turning out to be horrible. So much happiness caused an almost unbearable headache. I was feeling quite moody and my family was just making it worse, especially my mother. At some point I stopped paying attention to her and would’ve been grateful to Alec, if I were able to feel that, when he kept asking questions about the academy and whatever he found cool or creepy. The statues were his favorite and he told me he would come to this academy too once he grew up, it was a secret, but he actually disliked normal schools. Too much normality for such a curious and mischievous boy like him.

Currently, it was lunch time and we were sat at a table in the courtyard, supposed to have some pleasant conversations. We were sat close to Ajax and his family and it was quite hard not to overhear his mother, who was loudly praising Ajax and his cousins for their achievements. It was funny, how I was a top-grade student, yet my mother uttered not even one word of congratulations or acknowledgement of them. Oh, but Xavier, fear not, was placed on a pedestal. He was sitting right across from me, next to my mother, of course, meanwhile I was sitting between Alec and Jason. Gemma, who was sat next to Xavier, would bat her eyelashes at him in a sensual way, and I’m pretty sure that subtle emotion I was almost feeling could’ve been called disgust, it did look disgusting and it was hard to watch. Dad sat at the head of the table and Kevin on the other side of the table as he tried to make himself small, jumping at the stupidest of sounds. He was terrified and I seriously couldn’t understand why, but it was getting so bad, that as I bit into the crispy chicken wing, I decided to put him out of his misery. He visibly loosened up as a strong wave of calmness washed over him, meanwhile my skin tingled. Alec accidentally touched my wrist and a huge grin erupted onto his face. Mother noticed and her eyebrows furrowed as I sent him a wink, she was suddenly feeling worried. Probably because she thought I was trying to corrupt her youngest.

“Alec, you shouldn’t sit so close to Y/N.” Mother’s attention was suddenly on the two of us, I closed my eyes for a second, ready for whatever was about to come. Today I was easy to irritate and I could feel my heartbeat quicken, “How many times have I reminded you to stay away from her?!”

Alec placed his fork down loudly, and pouted at mom, “Does it matter? She doesn’t even have to touch us to use her powers. I think it’s whatever how close I sit to her.”

Savage Alec was always satisfying to hear and my eyes almost widened when I felt the satisfaction oozing from my father as he subtly looked at Alec with a proud, little, grin. Sometimes I was sure even dad was fed up with mom, and rightfully so.

“Don’t talk back to me, young man.” Mom snapped as she reached forward to put some more salad onto her plate. I felt something push at my leg from underneath the table and I slowly looked up at Xavier, knowing very well it was him. Out in the sunlight, I noticed the dark bags underneath his eyes. It made his complex look even more hollow. He probably wasn’t sleeping well due to the nightmares. I raised my eyebrow at him and he motioned towards the orange juice which was closest to me. Ah, he was just thirsty. He was awfully quiet ever since we sat down to have lunch and it was because he was feeling uncomfortable and guilty. My mother kept praising him for his good grades and exceptional behavior. Then started blabbering on about his father and how they met up last weekend for a barbeque and it was then when I felt a spark of anger. How could she sit there and talk about seeing his father, when he promised he’d come and visit Xavier today, just to bail out on him. It made Xavier feel horrible and the instant hurt that washed over him, knocked me breathless. Everyone looked at me weirdly when I managed to take a deep breath and it made me realize I was hyper-fixating on Xavier’s emotions so that I wouldn’t feel my family’s, which made me experience whatever he was feeling a lot more intensely. So I stopped doing that and everyone else’s emotions hit me like a roller-coaster, making my ears ring for a second. The warm hand on my wrist and the sudden calmness which washed over me made me smirk as Alec looked at me with innocent eyes.

“You felt troubled so suddenly,” He whispered to me as he pretended to reach for a napkin, “Sorry.”

I hummed and offered him a tiny smile as Xavier handed Alec the napkin. He took it with a huge grin and Xavier chuckled, looking at me again. I raised my eyebrows at him and before he could speak up, mother opened her mouth, again.

“The Poe Cup is coming up, isn’t it?” She sounded excited.

“Yes, in about a week.” She looked at me displeased that I didn’t let her precious Xavier answer her. I smirked at her and her jaw tightened as anger flared in her. She quickly averted her attention back onto Xavier and I heard Jason scoff next to me. Oh, how much he hated Xavier, it was quite hilarious. A freak like him stealing the spotlight from attention hungry Jason, who was desperately trying to get mother’s validation? Such a tragic story. One I can only laugh at.

“And what’s that?” Gemma spoke up sounding very bored, which she actually was. But as Xavier cleared his throat, she sat up straighter and her smile got sweeter. Oh, God, there was that feeling again. Fluster and happiness that Xavier’s attention was on her once again.

“It’s a game,” Xavier’s smooth voice explained and I smiled softly, I liked listening to his voice, it often brought even more calmness to my already numb state of being, “Where we race each other on water, in boats. There are no rules and the winner gets the cup and brings it to their Hall. Bianca has been on a winning streak for a few years now, it gets quite frustrating.”

“What is Bianca?” Alec perked up curiously.

“A siren.” I answered him and he nodded eagerly, “Which makes it really easy to cheat, they are in their natural habitat.”

“How can you cheat when there are no rules, sis?” Jason asked mockingly. My family was becoming more and more irritating, isn’t it just fantastic?

“It’s about having common sense, Jason. Just because there are no rules, you shouldn’t knock your adversary out.” Xavier snapped at my brother, the two now glaring at each other. Oh, their hatred was mutual.

“If I were to play, I’d knock your head off without resentment.” Jason snickered and my grip tightened on my glass of water. I didn’t like it when he disrespected Xavier. Xavier’s jaw clenched and he masked his anger with a quiet laugh as he looked at Jason with a sudden smirk.

“I bet you wouldn’t last a minute; you’d probably get knocked out while paddling.” I snickered and shared an amused look with Xavier as my brother’s hands turned into fists. You didn’t have to be an empath to feel the anger radiating off him. Now, that eased my irritation a bit, it was quite amusing.

“I’m afraid he wouldn’t be able to even sit in the boat—”

“Now that is enough!” My mother snapped, giving me a harsh glare. She gripped Xavier’s shoulder and sent a wave of calmness over him, pissing me off. I think my limits were tested today, and now I was actually mad at them. Why wouldn’t she let Xavier feel whatever he was feeling? Let him be angry and smug, did he hurt someone with that? No. I looked into my mother’s eyes as I allowed my powers to give back Xavier’s initial feelings, body tingling, as my mother gasped. Her hand flew off Xavier’s body and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at my mother, realizing she was trying to influence him into feeling calm. The hatred my mother felt towards me would’ve made everyone else cry, but I couldn’t care less.

“Stop controlling everyone around you, mother.” I snapped, voice harsh and mask slipping for a second as I felt that terror wash over Kevin again. The calmness I induced in him didn’t last for long, I guess, “People were made to feel. So let them feel. Xavier’s feelings were justified, Jason is an asshole and we all know it. Maybe next time you should educate him better.”

“Your attitude is disgusting—”

“And questionable. Only freaks act like that.” My voice was raising, she didn’t want to cause a scene? Fear not, mother, I’ll cause a scene for you. “You should come up with something more original, something I haven’t heard before.”

My father was feeling uncomfortable and Xavier’s anger was amplified. Maybe now is the moment I tell you how much he dislikes my mother. I wasn’t the only good actress from this table, his acting skills are quite spectacular.

“This school was supposed to make you normal.” My mother snapped and my father’s head snapped into her direction.

“Eliza.” He warned, his voice deep as he glanced at me.

“I am normal in this school.” I fired back at mom, uncaring about the desperation in my father, asking me to stop adding fuel to the fire.

“Normal!” Mom exclaimed sarcastically, and her eyes fell on a short, dark-haired girl with two braids, pale skin and blank expression, as she just passed by our table. Our eyes met for a second and we nodded at each other in a silent greeting, but it was Xavier’s emotions which irritated me more. He was head over heels for Wednesday, it was quite sickening. The way he’d perk up around her and the instant happiness he’d feel at the sight of her. His quick heartbeat would make him blush sometimes and he’d even stammer. The most disturbing thing was the dreamy look in his eyes whenever he spoke about her, it was horrible, really.

“Look at that freak. You’re just like her, if she’s not worst.” Well, she shouldn’t have brought Wednesday into this. One, I enjoyed her personality. Two, she was nothing like me. Getting compared to her felt like an insult, or at least I imagined that’s what it is, since the sudden burst of anger in me made me stand up. I slammed my hands on the table, the loud sound made Ajax and his family look at us, as many other people.

My voice was low and menacing as I glared into my mother’s dark brown eyes. Terror overtook her body and I took the chance and amplified it, making her shake. Her lips were trembling and my father’s mouth fell open in shock as he stood up as well, thinking whether to approach me or not.

“She’s nothing like me, mother. Her feelings are the strongest I’ve ever come across. Don’t compare her to a ruthless monster like me.” Xavier was on his feet now too and he didn’t hesitate like my father did in approaching me, he was by my side in a second. He didn’t touch me, he just made sure to stay incredibly close. Kevin and Jason’s fear was fueling my rage and making me channel them more onto my mother, who had tears running down her cheeks now. Gemma was scared too, but she masked it well as she tried focusing on anything else but us. And Alec, he just watched without feeling much. He was actually happy that I was standing up for myself.

“St—stop!” Mom managed to whine out between clattering teeth and I started laughing, jumping a little when Xavier finally touched me. His hand came in contact gently with my cheek and he turned me away from my mother, his forest green eyes gazing deeply into mine. His calmness actually shocked me. My eyebrows furrowed as we looked at each other. How could he remain so calm in such situation? When he saw my mask slipping? Unknowingly seeing the real me?

“Y/N, please, stop it.” It was my father pleading with me, “I don’t want to force anything on you, so stop it right now.”

“You should teach her how to behave too, father.” There was spite in my voice as I looked at my mom disgusted before tearing away from Xavier and storming off. Enid, who was the purest person I got to know, jumped up from her seat when I stormed past her and wanted to take off after me, but thankfully Wednesday stopped her when we shared a glance. I wanted to be alone. I did not want to see my family for the rest of the day. I would not be seeing them off. Xavier will do that in my place, and I know everyone would be happiest if it was him instead of me. Well, perhaps not Alec, but I didn’t really care. He’d get over it. So I went to a place where I knew nobody would disturb me since only Xavier and I knew about it. His little shed, which he uses as his art studio. I had a few hours to spend alone.

            Feet dangling off the table, I started counting the planks in the ceiling. The shed was a little wood construction. After laying down on a half empty table an hour ago, I was getting sleepy, so I started counting to keep myself awake. Around three hours passed since I left the courtyard and I was enjoying solitary. It was calm out here, the wind had picked up and it would rattle the branches of trees, leaves falling off. Chipmunks would run around from time to time, making the dry leaves crunch. Nature was quiet and after the accumulation of emotions, it was exactly what I needed. I was back to feeling numb, except this time, it felt emptier, hollower. Probably because I was drained and I needed a copious amount of sleep. The scrunching of leaves caught my attention again, but before I could think it was just another chipmunk, a wave of relief hit me. Somebody was approaching the shed, and it was none other than Xavier. He knocked on the door before he entered and he let out a long, tired, sigh.

“Hi.” He said quietly and awkwardly stood in the doorway of his own art studio. I smirked to myself, still laid out on his desk, still counting the planks.

“Don’t just stand there, it’s your own place.” I spoke up and it amused Xavier as he took slow steps, approaching me. I should’ve been disturbed by a few of his paintings, they were of a weird looking creature. I just found them really artistic and visionary. It had a different touch to it; some were foggier than others. As if he couldn’t see the monster clearly. And then there was the other painting, of Wednesday. Of course, it came as no surprise. Xavier, like I said earlier, was head over heels for her. Sickening.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” Xavier muttered as he leaned against the table, hip brushing my sock covered knee. I hummed as I felt his eyes on me, but continued counting. I was at thirty.

“Your empty table was begging me to lay down on it.” I said with a shrug and Xavier chuckled, looking around. I glanced at him and saw as his eyes stopped on the uncovered canvas. The one of Wednesday. His cheeks flared and he was suddenly embarrassed. He tried to compose himself and avoided looking at me, surely feeling my intense and teasing gaze on him.

“I assume you had seen off my parents, since you’re here now.”

“Correct,” he cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Alec was quite disappointed he couldn’t say bye to you.”

“He’ll live.” I shrugged and sat up, back feeling a bit numb from laying on the harsh surface of the table for so long. I ran my fingers through my long black hair and looked at Xavier. He was still embarrassed and wouldn’t look at me, pathetic.

“I see you snooped around.”

“I merely looked at what was uncovered.” Well, that was a lie. But I figured I was trying to be funny…or sarcastic. I wouldn’t know which one, but Xavier took it as funny, as he chuckled.

“Right, like that one over there.” He pointed his finger at the one canvas’ of Wednesday and turned his head to look at me. One eyebrows raised, he acted as if he was hurt that I violated his privacy, when in reality he was just embarrassed and flustered. Of course, the thought of Wednesday made him feel many ways, and they all disgusted me.

“Oh, the one with Wednesday.” I said nonchalantly and he let his hand fall and rest on my knee, “I know you’re a great artist, but it surprises me how perfectly you were able to paint each detail. The facial expression is just…the same. Impressive.”

“I did get it pretty close, didn’t I?” His voice sounded dreamy and he looked at the painting of the girl. Xavier was feeling proud and love struck again. I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand off my knee before getting off the table. Xavier’s eyes widened just a little bit when I went to stand in front of him with my arms crossed in front of my chest. My proximity surprised him.

“You did, which is concerning.” I spoke up, faking confusion and worry, “You’ve been observing her really closely, haven’t you?”

“Sometimes.” Xavier shrugged, all of a sudden feeling uncomfortable. He looked into my eyes and pursed his lips, he didn’t want to talk about it, but I wasn’t letting go of the subject yet.

“I think, all the time, is more fitting, Xavier.” I chuckled and he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “You do know that she’s not into you, right?”

Xavier gulped and remained silent as he searched my face to see if I was sincere, which I was. I plastered on a blank expression and sighed loudly, as if I was tired of this subject. Which I truly was, but what I was about to tell Xavier, I haven’t told him before. Maybe it’s because today sucked and being alone for three hours hasn’t actually helped, but I was tired and annoyed by Xavier’s blind pinning on Wednesday.

“She doesn’t like you, Xavier. At all.” I continued speaking and his eyebrows furrowed, “When she looks at you, she feels nothing. Her heartbeat doesn’t quicken, like yours. She doesn’t get flustered, like you. She’s never embarrassed thinking she’s not looking her best around you. When you compliment her, it literally leaves her cold, Xavier. Sometimes she doesn’t even hear you. She prefers not paying attention to you and she finds you nagging and annoying. Sometimes even thinks you’re too soft, so that disgusts her. Maybe you should find somebody else, who appreciates you.”

Oh, Xavier was mad now. He was scowling and standing up straight, towering over me. I knew a few people who would’ve felt scared right now, but I just remained unmoving and unblinking as I looked up into his green eyes, which were glaring down into mine.

“And maybe you shouldn’t blabber around without being asked, Y/N.” Xavier snapped at me and I rolled my eyes.

“I just want to awaken you to reality and make you realize, that liking Wednesday won’t lead you anywhere.”

“How would you know?!” Xavier’s voice raised an octave and I clenched my jaw, I didn’t like being yelled at, “Are you a seer now too?”

“That’s funny coming from you.” I fake laughed, “You seem to forget I’m an empath, who feels the emotions of others!”

My voice raised a bit too as Xavier walked away, nearing one of the paintings of the monster. He was feeling hurt and angry. Well, someone had to wake him up to reality, right? I thought it was better sooner than later. It would only get harder later on for him to move on.

“And just because you’re an empath you can predict the future now?!”

“Oh, please, Xavier! She likes Tyler! A lot!” Xavier opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at me as if I told him I killed his puppy, he was beyond hurt. He felt betrayed, it almost made me laugh. It wasn’t even that serious, he just liked overreacting.

“Maybe you should get a life, Y/N, and stop being so obsessed with me!” I scoffed, but Xavier continued talking, “You follow me around non-stop and have no friends. Sometimes I feel like you’re forcing yourself onto me and the only reason we’re friends is because my father told me to keep you close to myself when we were eight, because you’re dangerous and you’ll hurt others.”

My eyebrows furrowed. That was weird, I knew nothing about that. I knew Xavier considered me his closest friend, but I never knew his father forced him into befriending me when we were little. Any normal person would be beyond hurt right now. I’m just surprised. Xavier has been lying to me for so many years, that’s quite impressive. Well…alright, maybe he didn’t lie, because his feelings were always genuine towards me. It’s just surprising from a command how far things got. I didn’t need friends, I was better off on my own, it was Xavier who needed me. And why did he stay around for so long if he knew I was dangerous? Maybe because I never let my mask slip around him, and made him believe I was a good person. That meant I was doing a great job. A smile spread onto my lips as dread oozed out of Xavier for the horrible things he said to me. I wasn’t affected, I didn’t actually care. If he’s had enough of me, I’ve had enough of him too.

“Y/N—” He quickly caught my hand when I went to walk by him, but I gently pulled it back and looked into his eyes, still smiling. I think this wasn’t the right moment to smile, but it was quite confusing. And it was making Xavier feel even worse. Seriously, we got here because I mentioned Wednesday, this guy needs to priorities himself. I walked off without a word, smile on my lips, leaving Xavier feeling horrible.

            Three days passed since Parent’s Day. Three days since Xavier has spoken to me. I haven’t realized before how fast friendships could end. It was a weird feeling being alone all the time. It wasn’t something which made me uncomfortable, I welcomed it with open arms, it was just something new. I would always talk about random things that came unexpectedly to my mind to Xavier, who was always next to me. Now I had no one to talk to, so I would keep them to myself. I tried talking to a few students, but they were weirded out. It didn’t take me long at all to realize that the only reason I felt normal at Nevermore was because of Xavier. He never failed to make me feel human and normal. It was peculiar, really, and made me ponder about it sometimes when I got too bored with myself. Did I miss Xavier? Well, truthfully speaking, no. Would I have missed Xavier if I were able to? Honestly speaking, probably yes. But then I would’ve also been very hurt and maybe then there would be no turning back. But if I had actual feelings, than our friendship would’ve been genuine from the very start.

I blinked and shook my head, focusing on the painted target up ahead. It was pathetic how the thought of Xavier could distract me so easily from mundane things, like archery. I loved archery. My father taught me how to use a bow and arrow when I was ten. He is a hunter, so he’s quite experienced with various weapons. Sometimes, just to feel the terror and amuse myself, when dad took me out hunting with Jason, I would point my arrow at him and pretend to release it. He’d freak out and start crying loudly, alerting the animals we were close, therefore ruining my father’s hunt. He’d always get angry at Jason and when he’d explain the reason, our father would just shake his head, ask me to stop and use his power to calm Jason down so we’d continue the hunt. Fun times those were. I took another arrow and pulled it back, zoning in on the middle of the target. The red dot. Just as I released it, I felt a presence behind me. I was concentrating so hard that I failed to notice their aura and emotions until now. Remorse. Embarrassment. Guilt. Longing.

“Hello, Xavier.” I spoke up before he could. I felt him turn surprised that I knew it was him without seeing him. I was used to the feel of him and his emotions.

“Hi,” He cleared his throat, almost hesitating in saying my name, “Y/N.”

I took another arrow and pulled it back, releasing it as it hit the red dot again. There were two days until the Poe Cup. Enid and Yoko were doing their best decorating the boat. Enid was very excited and convinced this year we’d win. Ophelia Hall. And I had to agree, I consider myself a very competitive person, therefore I’d do anything to beat the other teams. No rules meant total freedom. And I loved freedom.

“Can I help you with something?” I raised an eyebrow as I took another arrow and concentrated on the target.

“I just want to talk to you—” I released the arrow and Xavier sighed, frustrated, he wanted me to offer him my undivided attention, “Please, can you stop for a second and look at me?”

I stopped for a second and turned around, to look at him, “Just did it.” My reply was cheeky, but Xavier found it annoying as he was dying to talk to me, before I could turn back around, he grabbed my wrist to stop me. His hand was warm and his hold familiar, he was always very gentle when holding me. I cleared my throat and lowered my bow, finally placing my attention on him. Xavier smiled timidly as he looked down at the grassy ground and cleared his throat.

“Can you get more awkward?” I rolled my eyes and Xavier gave me a look, asking me to shut up.

“Listen, I—I’m a horrible friend. I’m embarrassed and I hate myself for the things I told you.” Xavier’s eyebrows furrowed and the intensity of his honesty knocked me breathless again, “I should’ve never said something like that. It’s a lie! All of it—well, not the part where my father told me to befriend you, but I actually like you a lot! It was never forced or fake! I genuinely consider you my best friend, Y/N. And if you hate me, I totally understand and I deserve it, wholeheartedly! I’m an awful person and I don’t deserve you. If you won’t speak to me ever again I totally understand you and deserve it, but I—I just want you to know, that I am very, very, very sorry. And I hope one day you can forgive me, because not having you around for the past three days felt horrible and I realized how much you mean to me and I just—I don’t know, I don’t want to lose you, even though I probably did when I said those awful things.”

I remained blank faced just to antagonize Xavier more, prolong his suffering. It was really amusing. He was trying to hide the pain, but he couldn’t. If not his emotions, his eyes said everything.

“Well,” I sighed deeply, biting my lower lip, “I guess you’re very lucky that I even listened to that whole speech of yours.”

“Yes, I am!” Xavier exclaimed and suddenly took both of my hands into his and pulled me closer, gazing deeply into my eyes. What the hell? His gorgeous forest green eyes brought peace to my mind, in a normal scenario I could said, I probably missed them. “I am aware how lucky I am, Y/N, that you are standing here, looking me in the eyes after that day, and I just—”

“Okay, seeing you miserable is—” I took a deep breath and released it slowly, eyebrows furrowing, “annoying and quite pathetic, so shut up. I’m speaking now.”

I paused to let that sink into Xavier’s mind and he nodded eagerly. A spark of hope lit up in him, but his self-hatred was still stronger.

“Yes, you are a horrible friend for the things you said. And in a different scenario, I wouldn’t forgive you. But you’ve always been honest to me and our friendship was never fake, so I can’t be mad at you. Maybe your father saw something happening in the future and that is why he advised you be my friend, which was a wise choice if he stopped something horrible from happening. You are my best friend, Xavier, and I don’t want to lose you either. So, please, stop the self-loathing and smile. I forgive you…like, actually, truly, without feeling any resentment towards you, I forgive you.” I said all of that in one breath, meaning I had to take a deep breath by the time I was finished speaking. Xavier was speechless as he watched me smile at him.

“You—forgive me? Just like that?” He was confused. God, this boy could be so annoying. Anyone else would be kissing my feet for forgiving them just like that, but he’s here, questioning me after my half assed speech.

“Yes, Xavier, I do. You’re forgiven, now let me go.” I shook my head at him in an exasperated way, “I’m here for archery.”

“Okay, but I—I’m confused.” His eyebrows furrowed and I rolled my eyes, pulling my hands out of his hold as I reached down for my bow.

“About what? Seriously, just accept what’s happened and move on with your life.” I muttered as I went to turn around, feeling a bit irritated, but Xavier stopped me.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful—”

“I know,” I snapped, glaring at him, “I can literally feel it, Xavier. Remember?”

He just rolled his eyes and ignored my comment, “I’m grateful, however, I’m concerned.”

“About what?!”

“About how easily you forgave me!” He exclaimed and a few people glanced at us, Enid too. Lovely, create a scene Xavier. It’s not as if the whole school wasn’t already talking about our falling out or me, due to my stupid family.

“Why is that concerning—nevermind, you’re giving me a headache.” Xavier tsked and pulled me in closer, leaning his head down to be eye level with me.

“Because you like me…” The silence around the two of us was deafening. I think the right expression would’ve been: what the fuck?

“Uhm,” My eyebrows furrowed, “yes, because we’re friends?”

“No, no—” Xavier felt awkward and I was just weirded out, “I mean it in a way…like…you’re into me. You know?”

“So, you’re saying I’m in love with you?” I asked confused, because I think I was actually confused. And well, amused as well.

“No! Not in love! Just…you know…infatuated or something.” I hummed and bit my lower lip, trying to stop myself from laughing. Poor Xavier, “Are you…trying not to laugh at me?!”

Xavier semi-exclaimed and I finally burst out laughing, breaking our proximity as Xavier released me, finally. He just watched dumbfounded and confused as I laughed and laughed, almost getting teary eyed. Even my belly started aching!

“So, sorry that might’ve been insensible, but—” I cleared my throat once I was done laughing and straightened my stance, “I don’t like you like that, Xavier. Nor am I infatuated with you. We are best friends, and that’s it. Cross my heart and hope to die!” I held out my pinky for him, but he really didn’t want to believe me.

“Listen, it’s fine. I don’t mind it; we’ll still remain best friends—”

“Of course, we will!” I scoffed.

“No, listen to me, Y/N.” He was very serious, “Ever since Wednesday showed up you’ve been acting jealous from time to time. You hate it when I talk about her and I really didn’t want to believe you liked me in that way at first, but after our fight...which started from Wednesday and her not liking me back—I just figured you like me and it’s hard for you to accept that I’m into someone else.”

Now, just for effect, I would’ve loved slapping Xavier over the face. But again, that would be inappropriate. However, it might’ve slapped the illusion out of him! I was beyond irritated. I wasn’t in love with him! Or infatuated! Or jealous! I literally cannot feel!

“Xavier, stop embarrassing yourself. I’m incapable of feeling anything like that.” I snapped lowly at him, irritated. His eyebrows furrowed, but he seemed to disregard my words.

“Hey, I told you it was okay—”

“No, Xavier, I’m serious! I can’t feel a thing!” I huffed and turned around grabbing an arrow more forcefully than necessary, “Now, forget whatever stupid illusion you have made yourself believe and leave me alone. I’ll have class soon and I want to enjoy archery for a little bit longer.”

“Yeah, sure,” Xavier sounded unsure, he was confused, “I’ll see you in class.”

I hummed and listened to his footsteps as he walked away. Human emotions and illusions can be hilarious…and dangerous.

            Our day ended with a thunderstorm. It was pouring down hard, the harsh wind rattling the hinges of my locked window. I didn’t have a roommate, my mother asked Principal Weems to place me in a solo room, so that I wouldn’t cause any kind of trauma to anyone from the Academy. It was quite irritating at first, but after a while I was content with staying alone. Saved me from having to deal with someone else’s emotions after a day full of just that. It offered me tranquility; therefore I could relax and thrive in the comfort of solidary. After taking a hot shower and combing my hair, I decided to sneak down into the Nightshades’ secret library and search for books which were written about empaths. I’ve been doing some research this past month, wanting to find out more about myself. I couldn’t be the only who was born like this, there certainly has to be at least one other person besides me. But so far I had been unsuccessful, and with a tired sigh, I grabbed the book which seemed most interesting and carefully, to not get caught, sneaked back up to my room. The lamp on my bedside table was the only thing illuminating my room, which wasn’t as big as Enid and Wednesday’s. You could define it the size of a bigger storage room, but it was perfect for one person. I made it feel homey, inviting, in case I had people over. I taped some green and red leaves against the walls, making it look like you were in a forest during autumn, creating the illusion of those falling on you. My desk was placed right underneath the big window. I had placed fairy lights all around it, and wall as well. A few sketches given by Xavier were taped above my bed on the wall, and I cut out quotes from books that I found interesting, or some would say, inspiring. Enid loved gifting stuffed animals to me, so in a corner of my room, I had arranged them nicely. Since I put them on display, she would always get happy when she saw them. The bookcase I had from across my bed was huge, reached from ceiling to floor and had a little bit of everything. All the books I owned, and little ornaments I gathered from around the world when I traveled with my family, and the jewelry boxes I bought not a long time ago from an antique store in Jericho. Next to it was my closet, and one of its door’s wasn’t working right, so I couldn’t fully close it. As you entered, right behind the door I had some plants which offered the room some fresh air and right next to it, in the corner, I had a dark green beanbag, placed in front of my body length mirror. Lightning struck again and illuminated my room as I finished reading the last sentence on the page. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight, that would explain why I was seeing all the words blurry; my eyes were tired too. I sighed, closed the book and placed it on my bedside table, stretching my back, cracking a few vertebrae. Just as I reached for the lamp, to turn it off, there was a soft knock at my door. I turned towards it and pondered for a second who could be at this late hour.

“Yes?” I called out and my door was cracked open as Xavier stuck his head inside. Uneasiness and anxiety was racking through his whole being, “Come inside, Xav.”

He felt relief flooding through him as he swiftly slipped inside and closed the door, locking it. He was wearing his pajamas: grey sweatpants and a burgundy t-shirt. His hair was untied and the ends were still wet, meaning he showered before going to sleep. His eyes were a bit red and the bags still haven’t disappeared from underneath his eyes. Xavier looked very tired; he was in need of a good sleep at this point. There was another strike of lightning and Xavier jumped at the loud thunder following instantly.

“What happened to you?” I asked with furrowed eyebrows as I threw the blanket off myself. The lower temperature of the room suddenly hit me and I shivered. Wearing a tank top to bed, in the middle of autumn, probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Uh,” Xavier averted his eyes as he licked his lips, feeling a bit embarrassed, “I had a really bad—nightmare. And I couldn’t go back to sleep—not when I know that haunting creature will come back for me.”

I hummed and patted the bed next to me, asking Xavier to come and sit. He was quick as he got onto my bed, pulling the blanket over his bare feet. “These visions have been exhausting me pretty badly, I’m quite sick of them.”

“And the storm isn’t helping you either.” I added with a knowing smile; Xavier hated storms, especially the thunder. There was something very calming in the raindrops falling down and hitting the surface, I enjoyed it quite a lot if I got to stay inside.

“It really isn’t.” Xavier muttered and ran his long fingers through his soft hair as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I chuckled and leaned closer to him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

“Well, since I’m feeling generous—” I cleared my throat and Xavier was quick to smile, turning his head ever so slightly to look at me better, “I think you’re allowed to sleep next to me tonight.”

Xavier chuckled and I pulled away as he turned his head fully towards me, gazing into my eyes. He felt lucky to have me in his life in that exact moment and I saw his fingers twitching. There was this sudden new wave of emotion, something I couldn’t define, and it was getting more intense the longer I looked into Xavier’s eyes. He was also confused and his eyebrows were ever so slightly furrowed, but he quickly pushed the weird feeling away and became even more grateful that I took him in tonight. Besides, his fingers only twitched when he was holding back from hugging someone.

“It’s been long since we did this.” Xavier muttered with an amused smile and he looked around my room, his eyes stopping on the sketch he gave me this summer. We were out in the forest and found a flower clearing. While I was gathering some flowers for Alec, Xavier felt inspired and started drawing. The drawing was of me as I was leaning down and picking at a purple flower; his sketch was rather successful. I also admired it a lot ever since he gave it to me.

“Yes, because I thought you grew up and got over your fear of thunderstorms and the dark.” I teased Xavier as I pursed my lips and he rolled his eyes, pushing my shoulder playfully. The push wasn’t forceful at all, but I let myself fall onto my back. I huffed as hair got onto my face and stared up at the ceiling, feeling comfortable. I was really tired; I had a long day.

“Let’s go to sleep.” I spoke up when I realized Xavier remained sitting and just stared at me wordlessly. He seemed to snap out of his thoughts as he nodded and he gripped my blanket, pulling it over his body and mine as he laid down onto his back. We remained in silence as we stared up at the black ceiling for a few more seconds, nothing particular on our minds.

“Good night, Y/N.” Xavier whispered just as I reached out to turn off my lap. Darkness engulfed my room and my eyes needed a few moments to adjust to the darkness, which was lit by another lightning. Xavier turned onto his side, back facing me and blanket pulled up to his chin. He shifted around for a few seconds before settling down, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He got comfortable and I could feel his body releasing the stress he’s been feeling, letting his body and mind rest for the night. I bit my lower lip as I stared at the back of his head, his familiar scent, murky but sweet, made me feel weirdly tranquil. Without thinking much of it, I turned onto my side as well and scooted closer to Xavier. I pressed my forehead against his back and circled an arm around his waist, molding my body against his. We rarely touched each other, but falling asleep while cuddling always just felt…nice, sort of. Not that I could actually feel that.

“Good night, Xavier.” I whispered into his back and felt my eyes get heavier and heavier as the rain continued pouring and the lightning illuminated my room, thunder rumbling in the distance. Sleep came easier that night, to the both of us.

             The day for the Poe Cup has arrived. And it was in full swing. Ophelia Hall managed to row through the river without hardships, all thanks to Wednesday, who stepped in for Yoko; she couldn’t make it today. I was more than sure that it was Bianca’s hand in it, but Wednesday, who also had the same hunch as me, remained silent and so we didn’t say a thing to Enid. We didn’t want to dishearten her before the race. Emotions were running high, adrenaline rushing through everyone as we were currently leading. We have pulled up with our boat to the deck of the little island, where our flags were. Wednesday was supposed to run for it, but she had hurt her leg the previous day, therefore the position was given to me.

“Go, run, Y/N, run!” Enid screamed loudly, excitement cursing through her veins as I got up and out of our boat. The team was cheering loudly for me, since we were leading, and with a chuckle I took off, just as Bianca’s boat pulled up to the deck as well. I didn’t want to disappoint Ophelia Hall, and Enid was so ecstatic about the whole thing, that I wanted to bring them victory. Even Wednesday, who obviously remained emotionless during the whole battle, was feeling excited and was enjoying the race. She was the most competitive one from our team and it made me grin. Enid having Wednesday and I in her team secured herself the victory. There were no rules, we could do anything. And I was more than convinced that Wednesday and I played dirty. Jogging through the forest, I heard another pair of shoes hitting the ground hard and realized Bianca was catching up. She was fueled with rage and desperation to get to the flag first and then row back to the shore. She really wanted to win, poor thing, I couldn’t wait to feel her despair once she loses.

“Hey, Y/N!” Bianca shouted after me, but I paid no attention to her as I started running faster. The latex suit Enid made us wear wasn’t very restricting and meanwhile it was a bit too much for my taste, I couldn’t say anything. The rest of the team were werewolves, besides Wednesday, and they wanted to represent that.

“Cat got your tongue?!” Bianca spoke up again, and I realized she was right behind me. I rolled my eyes and kept on running, feeling a weird change in the air. It’s like it got warmer, as if a sudden heatwave rolled in. Suddenly, Bianca was next to me and my legs felt a little sluggish.

“Oh, no, seems like your stamina isn’t as good as you imagined.” Bianca’s bright blue eyes stared deeply into mine and for a second, I felt mesmerized by them, “I think you should stop for a second and take a rest. Nobody would want you to get hurt or sick, Y/N, your health is more valuable to us.”

Before I could nod at her, I realized what was happening. I started laughing loudly and abruptly stopped, creating confusion in Bianca. She stopped too, to watch me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t think it would be funny what I said, but you should totally just sit down now and wait until the race is over—”

“What you said isn’t funny, it’s what you’re trying to do is that makes me laugh.” Bianca was weirded out as she watched me pat my eyelids, I got teary eyed from laughing so hard.

“And what am I trying to do?”

“Your siren powers don’t work on me, Bianca.” Shock, is what she felt, and her eyes widened. It soon turned into confusion and I smirked as I walked up to her, getting all up in her face.

“To manipulate someone with your powers, the person should have emotions and feelings first. Next time, you should check who you’re trying to manipulate.” I was irritated, I always hated it when someone in my family tried to calm me down or make me feel happy. And Bianca tried controlling me with her stupid siren song power. I did not appreciate that, however, the confusion my words created in Bianca offered me enough time to jump on her. She yelped as my legs circled her waist and my hands went around her neck. Bianca’s eyes widened as I tipped her over and we fell onto the dirty ground, a loud grunt leaving her mouth. That must’ve hurt.

“You want to play dirty?” I whispered with a smirk, lips close to her ear, “I’ll show you dirty.”

And then I started squeezing. Bianca’s eyes widened instantly and dread started coursing through her as she desperately tried to pull my hands off her neck. Only problem for her was…that one’s intense emotions only give me more strength, therefore, she had no chance of getting me off herself. She was trying to desperately breathe as I was squeezing her airways, her nails digging into my wrists, as I kept smirking at her and squeezing harder. Relax, I wasn’t going to kill her, I just wanted to knock her out. When she started trashing her body around I got fed up and induced calmness into her, body instantly relaxing. Her wide eyes slowly started to close and I chuckled as she went limp.

“Don’t worry, Bianca,” I whispered and patted her cheek, “we’ll see each other when Ophelia Hall wins.”

I chuckled and as I raised to my knees, to get off her, a body tackled me to the ground. My left shoulder started throbbing as it took the fall and I groaned loudly, scrunching my nose at the uncomfortable body weight pinning me down. I looked up at Xavier, who was feeling conflicted and scared.

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, eyes going to Bianca, who lay a few feet away from us, unconscious.

“Don’t worry,” I smirked, “I didn’t kill your lover.”

“She’s not my lover anymore, Y/N.” Xavier snapped, frustrated. This whole jester outfit made him look…quite handsome. The red lip paint stretched out his lips and when he smiled, the students around him felt creeped out. I didn’t have to look at Xavier to know that he was enjoying all the attention he was getting, I could feel his smugness. And there were enough people who were turned on by his outfit, that was the excruciating part that I wished to not know about. Plenty of girls were lusting after him, and even some guys too. Xavier and I shared a look before we each got into our boats and he was smirking at me. I fixed him with a glare and he bit his lower lip as he trailed his eyes over my body, holding back a laugh. He mouthed ‘hot’ to me and I flipped him off, straightening my back and turning my head away from him. But they were dressed as clowns, and suddenly, Ajax and him started fooling around, making annoying sounds. Enid was secretly enjoying the whole show and Ajax flushed when he noticed her looking at him, teenagers with their lovey-dovey feelings could get really disgusting. And Xavier felt triumphant when he caught Wednesday looking at him, except that she was just bored and judging his choice of outfit. I had to be honest, though, the colors he wore were a nice contrast against his skin color and brought out his deep forest green eyes.

“Don’t know how seriously I can take a clown, Xavier.” He huffed and his eyes went to Bianca before they fell back on me.

“Explain yourself be—because to me it looked like you were trying to kill her!” Xavier’s voice rose and he was panicking a bit, that’s amusing.

“And so what?” I raised my eyebrows at him and Xavier’s eyes widened.

“You—you can’t be serious, Y/N.”

“I already told you I have no feelings or emotions, Xavier, so why does it still surprise you?” I huffed and rolled my eyes as Xavier shifted a bit, finally taking his leg off my thigh, it was starting to go numb, “Get off now.”

Xavier shook his head, eyebrows furrowed, as he tried to understand my words, “No, not until you explain yourself, because I don’t understand you anymore.”

I sighed and stared up at the blue sky for a second before looking back at Xavier, who’s eyes were desperately searching for mine, so I gazed into his, “Fastest and easiest way to say it…I’m a sociopath. I have no emotions and the only things I can feel are basically irritation, anger, and rarely amusement. Everyone thinks I’m normal, because when I was eight, my father taught me how to act and react to the people around me. Besides, I’m an empath, I know what everyone fells around me, and it’s easy to act accordingly to it. People are very easy to manipulate, Xavier, even you.”

Oh, Xavier was very confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but I left him quite speechless, “Did you never notice I smile in situations which are quite inadequate?”

“I did—I just—I thought it’s because of your dark humor—” I chuckled and watched as Xavier tried to bring sense to all of it. I bet it was hard for him to understand me as he always thought I was just like everyone else. So I decided to show him. Numbness, my usual state of mind. Calm, and quiet. Xavier’s grip on me loosened a bit as I saw his eyes clear up, body relaxing a bit. I didn’t hold the emotion wave over him for long, I just wanted him to catch a glimpse of it.

“There…that is what it feels like to be me.” Xavier was, once again, speechless as he looked at me. He slowly shook his head and muttered a ‘no’. He was going through it, the denial and disbelief stage. It was fine, my father went through it too. Took him some time to accept it, however, I think it’ll take longer for Xavier.

Despite always expecting the unexpected, what came next is still something I never expected to happen. One would say I was shocked, which I probably would’ve been if able to feel. Xavier’s lips were against mine. He kissed me, out of the blue. What the fuck? Why? What—what is he doing?! And they started moving against mine, soft lips which tasted like berries. It took me a second to kiss him back, but just because I couldn’t decide whether it is alright to kiss back your friend, or you should pull away. And Xavier’s feelings weren’t a good guidance all of a sudden. He shut down. As if he built up a wall that I couldn’t sense through. I could still feel a hint of denial, but whatever the hell he was doing, was overpowering my abilities. And so I closed my eyes and pressed my lips more forcefully against his. One of his hand’s released my wrist and he cupped my cheek. He was still gentle, he always was, and despite me trying to dominate he kiss, I couldn’t. There was something in Xavier which always took the lead and so I gave up, following his natural rhythm. I was pretty sure that friends don’t kiss, but this didn’t feel so bad. He wasn’t a bad kisser and it was actually enjoyable. My hand, subconsciously, got tangled in his tied-up hair which wouldn’t bother his jester hat, but it was currently, quite irritating. I wanted to run my hands through his hair, but I couldn’t because of it. His hand slipped from my cheek to my neck and that was when it hit me. A wave of longing, quite powerful too, as Xavier pulled back for a small second. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to understand what he was feeling, but he wasn’t sure either. So I leaned up and kissed him, less gentle and more needy as I gripped his nape firmly and pulled him closer, making him grunt. He released my other wrist and instead supported himself against the earth as my legs wrapped around his hips. Was I seriously making out with my best friend, on a muddy forest floor, during the Poe Cup? I probably shouldn’t even have allowed him to kiss me let alone make out with me, but Xavier’s emotions were intoxicating and it was making my head spin. His hand slipped back to my head and he gripped my hair, pulling away. Out of instinct, I wanted to follow his lips and kiss him again, but Xavier didn’t let me.

“And you have no feelings?” He asked breathless, chest rising and falling faster than before. I licked my lips as I looked into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. His red lip paint got smudged and I was more than sure it was all over my face too.

“I don’t—” I cleared my throat when my voice came out raspy. We were in a forest, there are vines, right? “I don’t have feelings, Xavier.”

He shook his head feeling annoyed, “Well it didn’t feel like it when we kissed.”

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on the dead vines behind us, hanging off a tree branch, “Well…you’re the one to talk. Not only you kissed me, you were quite enjoying yourself too.”

Xavier got embarrassed and he gulped, averting his eyes from mine, “Well, I just—”

And I pushed him, my force taking him off guard as he fell onto his ass. The vines I have concentrated on so hard sprung forward and tangled around Xavier’s wrists, who was too shocked to react.

“What—Y/N—” When he realized I was tying him to a tree, he tried to stand up quickly, but I pushed him back down. He couldn’t even struggle against them, because with a flick of my hands, the veins clung onto him tightly, tying him.

“Sorry, Xav, I have a Cup to win.” I chuckled and winked at him as the vines secured my best friend against the tree, making him hiss when they tightened more around his body. Having basic telekinesis powers was quite handy in times like this.

“Y/N!” Xavier was feeling incredulous and just to tease him more, I walked up to him and leaned down. His eyes went to my lips first and I smirked, amused by his behavior and conflicting emotions.

“Bianca will wake up soon and well…it’ll take a few good minutes to get yourself untied, Xavier.” I smiled sweetly at him, “See you on the other side, loser.”

And to put the cherry on top, I pressed a swift kiss against his lips before taking off running towards the flags, which were visible from where we stood. I could hear Xavier’s frustrated screams, telling me to cut the shit and release him. Would I do that? Never.

After all, it was a battle with no rules, and I’d use that to my advantage whenever given the chance.

↳Part2

[ilovereadingandstuff]

Izuku, I love you...but you're so complicated.

That’s what I got to say.

With the recent manga chapters…I’m emotional.

Back at chapter 401, I went through my gloomiest, saddest, most depressed state I’ve ever been since following this manga. At that time, I was already submerged in this whole atmosphere of ‘war’, and after Stain’s apparent death, I got a realization…It hit me like a brick: AFO was frightening.

I never measured the true impact and weight of AFO’s actions. I never understood Izuku’s perspective of AFO’s first appearance at the series back at chapter 88.

When I understood that, I really… I genuinely believed of the possibility of AFO’s winning…and I was waiting for AFO’ victory: I could hear his goddamn laugh. I could see the blood, the tears…I was drowning in hopelessness.

After all that I went through those few weeks, chapter 403 came…and I could breath. I smiled with the biggest grin I could physically do…I was excited with the panels of “the new beginning” and that bakudeku glance we had. Then, as if the sun never left our side, shining its light through all crystals of tears…Katsuki rose from death and saved All Might, along with Izuku’s help. He and All Might hit the roof of a building and, it that moment, we were blessed with one of the most beautiful smiles he have ever gotten inside this universe: Katsuki’s genuinely smile as the nerd he is by All Might’s compliment.

I can not express in words the gladness, the satisfaction that grin left me with.

Katsuki has always been a truly complicated character for me since the beginning. But I really like him. I think that he, as a character, has been through quite a lot of experiences that always left with a bittersweet taste of him never truly achieving what he dreamt of: being a hero. But he came to a new light, even after death…his smile, the first genuinely smile we got from him…It made me happy. It made me nostalgic, satisfied with the fact that he, who has suffered so much, finally was given the opportunity to shine, to be.

But then, immerse in that bliss…I could not help but think of Izuku. Compared what I felt for Katsuki in that moment with what I felt for Izuku…

and I felt so empty.

...

Izuku is so…miserable... right now.

I’ve loved his character since the first time I saw him back at that day when I was presented of the existence of Boku No Hero Academia. I remember beginning to read the manga and his character just made its space into my heart. I saw him overcoming obstacles, defying the prejudices everyone put him into, challenging and coming on top among his classmates, other heroes, becoming the true successor of the symbol of peace…but then, I saw the fog surrounding me.

At that point, back at chapter 256, I realized the situation we were: the beginning of the predestined and inevitable war.

Izuku was stronger than many, happier with his life...but there were traces of painful sadness in his words.

I could see that: there were so many things unspoken and unresolved topics about his character. What does he feel about himself? Did he feel strong at that point? How did he feel about the upcoming battle he had to face against AFO? What is the plan he has to reach out for Tomura? What about his self-sacrificial tendencies? Those are really gone or not? What about his health and body? What about gearshift and the deadly consequences it has to his body? What about his relationship with All Might? with Toshinori? Will he ever stop calling Katsuki by Kacchan? Does he still cling to that past he had with Katsuki when they were friends (before Katsuki manifestated his quirk)? There are still those insecurities he had before? Why does he insist so much that he must not cry? What about his father? Does he have any repercussions about the fact that he did not have a father figure for most of his life? Does he keep thinking of OFA as something special? What were those feelings about Katsuki that he felt that were ‘so gross’ and unworthy of addressing? What about his qurikless past self? How does he feel about his quirkless condition (reference to what he said to Kota back at chapter 72)? Has he ever thought about the bullying Katsuki put him through? What does he feel about that? Did he really forgive Katsuki?

Then, the war started. And I mean the totality of it: things were not being addressed: Everything become ‘battle’, ‘fight’, ‘live-or-die situations'...as it has to be, obviously. In the middle of a war, who in the world will rest for a few seconds to question their reality?

Everything was accelerating, moving.

Many died, many suffered. Including Izuku, whose pov was taken away from us. He went through his Dark Hero Era, his feelings were hidden at the most recondite space possible. He saw his friends and pro heroes bleed, his childhood friend thrown away there in the middle of the battlefield, presumably dead…His idol/father figure almost die at the hands of the greatest villain of all times while fighting with the most dangerous one out there who could touch the ground and destroy the whole world…then he saw how Katsuki got up and saved All Might, leaving him with more time and space to continue the battle…

At the newest chapter, we only got the scene where we see Izuku’s figure, demarcated and exhausted face, thinking how he can defeat ShigAFO.

I think that his character has gone through the correct path, but has cornered himself (or was cornered against his will) into this situation of exhaustion, with so many questions left unanswered, with his character left there with a hurricane of emotions that are not even explained and the readers have only actions to interpret from this.

While Katsuki has overcome his troubled-life and can smile, laugh af AFO's face proclaiming victory…Izuku can not.

Izuku was left behind, even though he was so far ahead of everyone. He can not smile, he can’t rest, can’t let his guard down, can’t even think for a moment what he has been feeling this whole time.

This is a situation, where sooner or later, Izuku will have to face all this things he never addressed even in the slightest…and I want to know how that situation will be.

I want to see him smile, see him become the hero, the symbol of hope he has always dream of to be…I want him to stand tall and strong, smile bright... next to Katsuki.. as it should have been all this time.

[many-but-one]

I used to think I was endogenic and got hate for it. Then I became exactly like the people that bullied me. Thankfully, I’m not anymore.

So I’m gonna get on here and do one of my rare syscourse posts because I have been seeing an undeniable increase of hatred on my timeline simply because I follow the did/osdd tags.

Those of you that have been around a while and have seen our posts talking about this might recall this, but we used to be very firmly anti-endo. We consider ourselves endo neutral these days mainly because we just don’t care what other people do with their lives and it’s not up to me to fake claim them or tell them how to live their life. People like to be angry at endos for spreading misinfo, when I’ve seen anti-endos do the exact same thing. Quite often, actually.

One of the biggest reasons I was anti-endo was because I was angry. I was angry at the fact that people would claim they created their system for fun when my existence as a system was full of misery and pain. Fun fact, I’m still full of misery and pain, but I was taking it out on people I didn’t even know. I was angry that I didn’t get to choose this and they did. I was angry that they got to “have fun” with it while I suffered. I hated my disorder, I hated my system. I was so angry all the time. I went on rants. I was mean. I was full of hate.

Then as I went through the therapeutic process and learned to not only tolerate but actually love my system despite all of their faults and despite all of the ways the disorder made me miserable, I realized I cared a lot less about endos. It felt less like a slap in the face that they existed. I realized that me being angry was the root of why I disliked them so much. I realized that me being angry and hateful wasn’t actually helping anyone.

However, there’s something else I want to talk about. I’ve mentioned this vaguely from time to time, but I’ve never spoken that deeply about it.

I used to think I was endo. I joined system spaces online for the first time when I was about 16-17 years old. I was the host at that time (Jules, though they have fused with like a bazillion parts since then due to therapy so now I go by Delphine) and I was having experiences of a dissociative disorder. I was dissociative, I was having amnesia gaps, I was hearing voices in my head, and it was the first time I ever had a flashback (though I didn’t really understand that’s what it was at the time.) I met the first parts I ever spoke to directly back then, parts that don’t exist the same way today thanks to healing. S, A, and “The Bad Man” (father introject) were the first three parts that spoke to me. I knew by then I had DID. But I didn’t know my trauma. All I knew was that I may have witnessed some DV when I was really young (couldn’t remember it though, I just knew my mother was severely abused by my father) and that my dad was abusive to me as a teen. I didn’t even consider the fact that I couldn’t remember most of my childhood before the age of 10-11, and everything else in my life was spotty at best. I remembered a lot of my childhood! Or so I thought. I thought my childhood was completely fine except for my dad being a bit of a dick to me when I was a teenager.

So I thought I was endogenic. I knew that I hadn’t created these parts on purpose (though A stole her name from a fanfic I had read a few years prior so I thought that maybe I did make her up) so I thought maybe birth trauma had to do with it (I was born 9 weeks premature) or maybe I had formed my parts way later in life than normal since I’d always been a “late bloomer.” I tried making friends in the system community, to try and understand what was happening to me. I had genuine traumagenic DID, but I didn’t know it. As soon as I said I was endo to anyone I would be met with such extreme vitriol that I was chased away VERY quickly. I was told I was crazy, I was told I was faking a severe disorder for attention, I was told to kill myself, I was told that I am a terrible person and stealing resources from other systems, etc. It was really bad. I never spoke about it again. I deleted my entire system-related online presence. I believed I was a horrible faker, I was crazy, everything.

Meanwhile I was actively having nightmares of witnessing extreme child torture, I was having huge gaps in my memory, I was having random bouts of extreme suicidality and was self harming almost every day. I was dissociating off my ass, I barely even got through my junior year of high school. I missed so much school due to my mental health that the public school system almost took me to court to court-order me to go to school. I didn’t even try to talk about any of this to a therapist or counselor because I was certain that I had been faking the DID and that I was actually just crazy and I didn’t want to steal resources from “actual systems.” I had multiple suicide attempts. I didn’t get help until my school ordered me to go to the mental ward and then was assigned a therapist shortly after. Then I jumped from therapist to therapist, one of which said that I must be bipolar due to my mood swings. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar I for years. Years.

Years that I could have been trying to heal from DID taken from me because I was so heavily bullied for thinking I was endogenic. I was completely convinced I had bipolar and I must have just been having a psychotic episode every time I was hearing voices or acting strangely.

I was diagnosed with DID at age 22, just a month or so shy from my 23rd birthday. I went 6 years thinking I was crazy and delusional because of the system community. The worst part? I let my anger get to me and I became exactly like them. A little less intense, definitely didn’t tell people to kts or call them names or anything, but I was angry. Angry at the fact that I’d been a system all this time, angry that it had affected my life for so long, angry that endos “made a mockery” of what the disorder actually was. Then as mentioned previously, I was able to get over that anger. It makes me incredibly sad that I used to be so vitriolic and bitter and that could have seriously impacted a system who was in the same situation I was.

This is not to say that all endos are actually systems who don’t know their trauma. Some of them are genuinely endo, and I don’t really care about that. However, there is no person on the internet who can truly decipher whether or not an endo is a traumagenic system who just doesn’t know their trauma or who is non-traumagenic. I genuinely thought with my whole chest that I had no trauma and that whatever trauma I might have had was nowhere near serious enough to cause a system, so I must be endo, right?

*Loud, incorrect buzzer noise*

Turns out I have RAMCOA related traumas and my system is made up of thousands of parts. I didn’t just have trauma, I had Trauma. Years and years of extreme and extensive child torture were hidden so well that I couldn’t have even begun to guess that’s what my trauma history was, even after I was finally diagnosed. (Though I should’ve known with how intense our gatekeeper was about never telling me Anything)

Moral of the story here is this:

Please consider that the endos you speak badly about could be traumagenic systems. And you would never know. Behind the screen they could be showing clear signs of a dissociative disorder, but you wouldn’t know unless they specifically described such experiences—and nobody is entitled to hearing about other people’s personal experiences or struggles. I didn’t get the help nor the community I desperately needed back then, a teen who felt like their life was turned upside down and shaken about at all times.

Be kind. Stop hating other people for stuff like this. It matters so, so little in the grand scheme of things. These internet dramas are so chronically online that nobody in the irl world would even begin to comprehend it. It doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. But what does matter is how you treat others, because that sticks with people forever.

That’s all I’ve got. Thank you, everyone.

[satoruuswife]

~𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾

The bane of my existence ~

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

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Status: Ongoing

summary:You’re a 17-year-old girl, who just entered her second year at jujutsu tech, your technique is spider threads, which are sharp threads which seemingly can cut through anything and everything, here you experience the hell that a jujutsu sorcerer has to go through, watching a loved one leave or abandoning a loved one due to circumstances not within your control, let's see what your future holds?

characters: Satoru gojo, Shoko Leiri, Utahime Iori, Suguru geto(kenjaku as well), Nanami(n) Kento, Masamichi yaga, Okkotsu Yuta, brief mention of Naoya Zenin, basically all the first and second years as well

pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, brief mention of naoya x reader, small mention of suguru x reader

CW: fluff, angst, maybe smut in the upcoming parts, contains manga spoilers, jerk! gojo, mentions being bullied, the use of pet names, the rest I will add as I keep writing.

words: 1.6k ish? sorry, I didn't have much time

Masterlist

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‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Late spring 2007

{Reader’s pov}

It was a surprisingly warm afternoon, considering it was the middle of October going on. Strolling around campus with no missions and no higher-up breathing down your neck was an unusual occurrence, especially with the surge of curses roaming about recently, other than you there was no sorcerer in sight it was a little off-putting as there were no classes supposed to be held today as the most of the students were on missions already, but nevertheless, the peace was appreciatable.

until it was not,

smack!

a basketball hits the back of your head causing you to stumble forward, wincing at the contact you turn around to see Satoru, peering at you from where the basketball came from with a shit-eating grin.

“sorry shortcake didn't see you there” he yells, snickering beside a sighing apologetic Suguru who comes to your aid. he pulls Satoru with him, holding him by the ear while lecturing him on how not to be an asshole.

“At least someone’s an adult between the two”, you think. in your eyes, geto had always been an understanding, ethical gentleman who always looked out for everyone. other than Shoko and Nanami he was the only individual you could stand being near for more than 5 minutes. you genuinely enjoyed his company but were forced to leave after a certain period due to his annoying shadow, namely Satoru Gojo.

Despicable, despicable was the word you would describe Satoru Gojo with. he was a pain in the ass always looking for excuses to disturb your peace and torment you ever since the day you joined. he is borderline a stalker as he seems to be everywhere you go on “accident”.

tch some accident

as Suguru helps you up, you notice Satoru just staring at the exchange with a shit-eating grin, as if thinking of more ways to make your life miserable.

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{Satoru’s pov}

It was afternoon, a surprisingly warm one considering it was the middle of October going on and arguably the most uneventful one this week. No Yaga or higher-up breathing down my neck, no curse to be eradicated, there was no one on campus, no one of interest that is……….or so I thought.

Suguru and I were playing basketball, the score was going 3-2. obviously, I was in the lead but before I could toot my own horn, Suguru rushed past me and scored. 1 couldn’t fret no, not for long that is.

Contrary to my assumption, there indeed was an object of interest on campus, a short and attitude-filled one walking by. I grin to myself as I intercept the ball after Suguru’s basket and “accidentally" lost control of the ball and flung it at her.

Now now, I'm not that big of a jerk. I hadn’t meant for it to hit her as hard as it did, I was only hoping it would brush past her and rile her up. I watched as Suguru ran to help her and unexpectedly dragged me by the ear with him., “Sorry shortcake didn't see you there” I yelled as Suguru bit my ear off.

All my guilt disappeared as soon as I saw that cute familiar little scowl directed at me, I grinned at her then stuck my tongue out, “All that lack of height for what? if the ball still reaches you.” I snicker and she scoffs at that, now clinging to Suguru’s arm who looked ready to kill me.

“Well, I've got a brain to compensate for my lack of brawn, you wouldn’t get it since you don’t have one” she huffs at me as she dusts her uniform and thanks Suguru for helping her.

I chuckle as she walks away from me, dusting her dress and limping

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{reader’s pov}

tch

who did he think he was making fun of my height when his own IQ was that of a five-year-old child, his looks and physique may be gifted to him by the gods but his shitty mouth sure did make up for it and god does he need to up his teasing game? He teases like a primary school child would despite being 17.

Thank heavens for his angel counterpart, Suguru. I'm sure he is the only sane person on campus everyone else including myself is a little cuckoo in the head. I really hope everyone especially Suguru stay with me, together. As for jujutsu sorcerers, there is no guarantee that the average person is a friend or a foe.

how naive I was,

He also seems to be the lifeline of Gojo that has kept him from going insane, he really is the best counterpart for that annoying little shit.

I snicker to myself as I make my way to the infirmary to see Shoko, “what’s got you so giggly today?” she asks as I plop down on the infirmary bed.

,” Nothing just had an incident with the devil-duo” I reply snickering, “ Suguru really is caring, the exact opposite of that dumbass, Satoru” I sigh as I pull up my skirt to reveal the wound by my thigh from the fall.

Shoko makes light work of fixing it up as she peers at me with a grin on her face and squiggly eyebrows, “what?” I ask and she giggles, “ I think you like Suguru” she replies and I go silent.

Wait do I like Suguru? no that can’t be, it's just admiration. yeah admiration

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‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

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late summer 2007

I landed a date.

A DATE WITH SUGURU FREAKING GETO.

I mean he was dared to take me out buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, a win is a win. now here I stood, in a frilly dress with the biggest smile on my face outside my dorm waiting for Suguru to show up, he was running late by 2 hours but it's fine right? must’ve been caught up exorcising a curse. Yeah that’s definitely it.

I wore a purple summer dress to match his eyes and black heels to go with it,’ I should make an effort to dress up,’ I thought, ‘as the person I'm going out with is a literal dreamboat. ‘

some dreamboat, tch

He didn’t show up

not to our date not to the Jujutsu tech campus

WHERE IN THE WORLD WAS HE?

——————————————————————————

It was a huge uproar as geto Suguru, a special grade sorcerer (and of course, my date but the higher-ups don’t know that) had apparently betrayed jujutsu high and was nowhere to be found. He had killed all the villagers in the village he was sent to survey and fled with 2 orphans who were mistreated there.

usual Suguru, of course, he felt bad for those girls……………….. Wait what? he killed an entire village? Suguru? the gentlest person to have ever set foot on this planet? Geto Suguru? our Suguru? That can’t be right……..right?

——————————————————————————

I stare at the reports in horror as reality sets in, Suguru had really annihilated that village and fled with not so much as a word to any of us and was declared a heinous criminal by the higher-ups.

‘it can't be true right? no, they are lying to me,’ I think quivering, as I collapse on the floor clutching my chest, holding back sobs. I don't get to grieve for a lot of time because soon Principal Yaga enters the room and,

tch

gives me oh-so-wonderful news,

I was being relocated to Kyoto.

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how is Satoru? why are you being relocated? why right now when your friend's need you? what about Satoru? will he be okay? what about Shoko? why? why was this happening?

there were too many unanswered questions and no time to think as the higher-up's decision was final and was set to completion immediately. guess we'll see next time yeah?

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‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

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sorry this is short, it's rushed because well the request had been chilling for about a month in my inbox and I felt guilty for not writing, I barely have time this month [exams}but I'll try to post more frequently.

masterlist

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‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

[weebsinstash]

Damn, imagine if all this YT drama was happening when Spot's situation was currently going on too. And, well, since our dimension is fucked and we just seem to jump through dimensions without the watch, what if we end up in Spot's place? (The blank void when he entered one of his own spots).

And, it would be funny to look at him, and for him to look at us and just... stare or wave. He is weird like that, and we are too.

Also, we can start bonding on feeling out of place? Sharing the same experience of everyone leaving us behind/ignoring us. Maybe we can even seek solace in his presence, and in his unique persona (even if he is supposed to be a villain).

And the fact that this is the only place we don't glitch out of? Maybe some bullshit physics as this place literally makes no sense, as well as us. It's like we belong here, with him. He could always teleport us somewhere else, but we look so tired, so pitiful and in so much need of some sort of care... he feels bad for us. And maybe, he can try and convince us to stay with him. After all, he *is* the only one who hasn't turned his back on us, right? He isn't a bad guy like those 'friends' of us were saying!

Meanwhile everything is going to shit in the society's HQ :)

I've actually had a few ideas involving The Spot where he's either the yandere or antagonist or a central character in some way and it's really just a matter of me getting around to. Writing the dozens of things I want to write lmao

But bro your mind 😩 you've just been exiled during the YouTwo incident amd you're glitching and, you know, slowly deteoriating over time, and, suddenly, you're in this weird literally nondescript place where you're suddenly... 'balanced out'? You don't feel like you're being pulled in a bunch of different directions anymore, and you look around and it's just some white void with black dots everywhere that you think you can kind of see and hear things out of if you get close enough, but, first and foremost, is that a person? Spot just like. Is staring at you with this very deer in headlights energy and, you both awkwardly wave to each other, "uhhhhhhh... hi?" "...hiiiii, uh, is this 'your place'? Thank you so much, dude, I've been zipping all over the place, i thought i was gonna die, you saved my life" and maybe you even hug him and he's not sure how to process this because you're clearly a variant of Spiderman but you hold no animosity or hostility towards him whatsoever and 👉👈 this is the most positive human interaction he's had in ages.

Not even his powers, but his knowledge alone would be extremely useful in this scenario because like, he could literally just warp around stealing whatever parts he needed to build something that would "hold you together", given his involvement with Alchemax and the colliders specifically

You're just so understandably and genuinely grateful and Spot feels GOOD about being needed, about being someone's savior. He really had been one of the only ones who could help you and he gets a little drunk off that fact. Whether your glitching is a mutation and is your own power or you're simply some weird anomaly, you two form a kinship, and if it IS some sort of weird ability, maybe he even decides to mentor you a little! Gives him something to do, and it totally isn't to help distract him from how lonely and depressed and miserable he is!

But similar to how the other villains discounted him, you kind of discount him yourself in the sense that you don't see him as a threat. Which, he doesn't necessarily want you to, and it's not some sort of disrespect thing, but, the linger he spends with you, the more he wants you to see him as a man, a man with needs, emotionally, psychologically, physically. Whyd you have to give him all those hugs when he hasnt had human touch in forever, huh?! Don't you know how lonely and touch starved he is?! And you just think you can--can walk away from him? Disrespect him after everything he's done for you, disrespect him like everyone else?

You can always try and 'outrun him' with your little glitching, but, even if you manage to lose him, he'll pick up your tracks again, and one day you wake up from finally crashing from exhaustion to find a pitch black figure at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling in everything around it like some sort of eldritch black hole. And Jonathan menacingly waves to you, "I don't think I'll have trouble keeping up with you this time. I made sure of it"

[iocity]

One of the things I love about One Piece is their depiction of pain. Even for Luffy. There are time when he is hit and he writhes and screams. There are times when he doesn’t, and he is stoic. It’s a really valuable lesson that feeling pain deeply is, at times, just as noble as concealing it. No matter how strong a character is, sometimes they writhe and scream and cry. Sometimes they fail miserably and feel as if their world is out of their control. It shows that even the strongest characters experience pain in the most excruciating of ways. I always was really affected by that, because despite how much pain a a straw hat is in, they get back up. When things look the worst, they come back stronger than ever to conquer it. It makes them so much more human to me.

I also like the concept that Luffy isn’t as used to pain as the others and has a lower tolerance. He has been a rubber man since he was a child, so he doesn’t really get cuts and scratches or broken bones. He never got to build up that tolerance. It makes the scene where he takes a beating for Ace and Sabo even more significant and emotional because this kid who sees pain as a concept that is somewhat foreign is willing to take amounts of pain that even regular adults couldn’t bear. I’m sure his tolerance has been building since the start of the show, but I genuinely think it’s something to consider. This kid who is virtually indestructible, who is relatively hard to hurt, and who is relatively unconditioned to being uncomfortable in his body (like being sore or pulling a muscle) and hurting, is constantly taking a crazy ass beating for those he loves, but also those he barely even knows. Pain is significant to him, yes, but he is willing to put all of his suffering aside for the sake of people who have done right by him. Whether it be saving his life in Alabasta, or buying him a few lunches with their last few cents in Dressrosa; he will always suffer greatly in order to do right by the people he values.